I mentioned on my various social media accounts yesterday that JJ, our 4-year-old, wished Brian a very happy “Fodder’s Day.”
It’s almost like he knew about this blog and that Brian provides me with an infinite amount of fodder for it.
The next time someone asks me what I do for a living, I’m going to pull out the following photo and show it to them.
I’m a mommy blogger. So, I basically force my husband and kids to do fun things with me so I can blog about them.
I don’t often have great ideas when it comes to parenting/housekeeping/life in general, but when I do, I have to publish them here for the rest of you to behold. So, if you’re keeping track, this is “Super-Duper Parenting Idea” number . . . sorry, there are so many I can’t keep track. This is probably number . . . let me think. Number . . .
Let’s just start with 1 to keep it simple for everyone.
Basically, in 19 months as a mommy blogger, I have had ONE good, original idea.
I promise I haven’t forgotten about y’all. And I know that I STILL haven’t finished telling you about our trip to Indiana and our surprise visitors. I will do that soon, God willing. But our world became much busier this week when we invited my cousin’s 3 1/2-year-old daughter, Ginlee (pronounced Gin-lee, just like it’s spelled), to stay with us for the summer.
How adorable is she?
If you’re keeping track, we now have a 2-year-old, a 3-year-old, and a 4-year-old sleeping under our roof.
I use the term “sleeping” quite loosely.
A few weeks ago, I got an email from a dear friend and former college roommate of mine, Genii. We lived together from 2003-2004 while we studied abroad at the University of Leeds in the UK. Despite our incredibly different backgrounds (she is Chinese), beliefs, and a minor language barrier, we became fast friends.
I think one of the most difficult aspects of blogging for me isn’t the writing, the photo editing, the video editing, or the constant need to be “in the know” technologically. No, the most difficult part for me is this black hole time waster called the Internet.
I spend at least 75% of my dedicated blog time asking myself the question, “Why in the WORLD am I reading this?”
[Funny, I often ask myself that same question while here on this blog.]
I got a two-sentence e-mail from my father-in-law last Tuesday that cut right to my heart. Now, a two-sentence e-mail from me would mean that 1) I am sad/disappointed/angry about something or 2) I am sending the message while simultaneously wiping urine off our bathroom wall and my face (true story). However, a two-sentence e-mail from my father-in-law means something else entirely. It means that he is reaching out without wanting to seem intrusive. It means that he took time out of his work-filled schedule to let me know that he’s thinking about me. It means that I had better get back to blogging.
So, when I read, “How are you? Haven’t talked to you lately,” I knew exactly what he was trying to say.
Well, friends, I’m back and bedder than ever.
[Typos already. Well, that's what happens when you take two weeks off without writing.]
No, that’s not a typo. It’s an explanation of where I’ve been these past two weeks. Allow me to elaborate…
Brian gave me a Fitbit for Christmas. It’s basically a device I wear on my wrist that tracks my movements (sleep and overall activity level).
First of all, men, I need to inform you that this is an incredibly risky gift for a man to give a woman for Christmas. Particularly if she has struggled with depression.
“Merry Christmas, honey! Here’s a nifty gift that will track how many hours you spend in bed and how stagnant you are even during your few waking moments.”
I just had a flashback to the Christmas where my dad gave my mom running shoes and fluorescent jogging suits. I’ll never forget the look on her face. It’s the look that says, “I know just the perfect place to put this bleepity-bleep-bleep shoe!”
It’s no secret around here that my dear husband doesn’t have much going on “up top.” He started balding around the same time we started dating back in January of 1999.
[That doesn’t sound like a coincidence to me…]
The poor guy hasn’t seen a full head of hair since we were in college. And, as the years go by and our children continually refuse to potty train, his scalp becomes more and more visible.
Yes, Brian’s hair is seriously thinning.
And, if you say it like Charlie Sheen—“THIN-ning”—it makes him laugh out loud.