Just don't call it Puppy Love

Lately, it seems I've been musing a lot on all my old high school flames. Not necessarily in the Brian Adams, Summer of '69, "Those were the best days of my life" sort of way, more of the Garth Brooks, "Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers" variety. I'll hear Blink 182's First Date (I know, I know, enough with the songs already) or someone who resembles an old boyfriend (I was at this tiny, hole in the wall, Chinese restaurant the other day and I saw some tall, skinny teenage boy who had a loping, swinging gait and it killed me how much he reminded me of my first love)...and I'll just remember. It's hard not to, I suppose, when you have all the typical high highs and low lows of teenagehood...and then some. You see, not only was I a serial dater, but I was the serial serious relationship kind of dater. I really, truly fell head over feet (nearly) every single time I professed I did.

I sometimes feel kind of sorry for the poor boys who wooed me so. They didn't know they were getting themselves stuck in a huge, boiling vat of tumultuous emotions. I know it's a cliche to say that girls are more emotionally mature then boys, but I'm still sayin' it. I was so much more ready for a Serious Commitment then the poor boys I fell for. So, when they said they loved me...I believed it. And then when they stopped saying it, I took it really, really, reeeealllly hard.

"So, what's your point?" some might ask. "Why the walk down memory lane?" Well, partly I just like to hear myself think out loud. But, aside from that, there are three conclusions I've come to in my recent musings on Exs.

#1. I'm really, really worried for my girls. I don't know if there are many mothers out there who stay up late at night worrying about when their toddler girls hit the dating years, but I do. They'll just be so vulnerable with their rose tinted glasses and their high, in the sky, apple pie hopes. And, well, teenage boys, with their raging hormones and just in the moment mentality, can be really (unintentionally or otherwise) cruel. I can only pray that my girls decide to ignore boys (other than the necessary Prom date, of course) for the entirety of their high school years. I have two very pretty, vivacious girls (if I do say so myself), so I know that's a slim chance. If they do decide to date and even *gasp* fall hard for a guy, I just hope they'll trust me to listen and allow me to help pick up the pieces of their spirit when it ends.

#2. Despite what it might sound like, I don't really regret 99% of those relationships. Here's another cliche for you, but I learned so much from those star crossed loves. Not only did I learn about relationships, but I learned all about myself and what I needed in the guy I was going to spend forever with. So, when I found a guy who was worth keeping, a guy who had the potential to be my better half, I kept him. There's a running joke in my family that I dragged my husband into marriage, kicking and screaming. While that's not mostly true, it's also not a complete falsehood, either. Basically I found a fabulous guy who actually thought I was kinda, sorta fabulous too and I hung on. I stuck it out and waited around for him to decide he wanted to marry me. I put up with all his temporary indecision because, after multiple doomed relationships, I knew I had found a guy worth waiting for.

Lastly...
#3. I'm really, reeeallly glad I'm on the other side of things. I'm glad that I can honestly say to all those poor, immature boys who crushed my heart under their converse-clad soles that I am so. happy. with how things ended up. That things are going smashingly for me. I have 3 beautiful, fabulous children who resemble my handsome husband, a husband that actually values me, who thinks I'm beautiful and wonderful...not to mention the fact that I look pretty darn good for having had 3 babies so close together. I loved those boys with all of my heart and soul, each and every one of them, but at the end of the day, I'm so, so, SO glad I didn't marry any of them.

How about y'all? Do you worry about your future teenage children? Any songs or sights that take you right back? Am I the only one who thinks about these sorts of things?

Manic Monday

Six o'clock already
I was just in the middle of a dream
Time to wake up and nurse
My baby just woke us with a scream
Toddler is up
So much for sleeping in
These are the days
When I change diapers again and again

Just another Manic Monday
I wish it were Sunday
Cause that's my fun day
My I don't have to run day
Just another Manic Monday

Breakfast and Elmo
My house is such a pigsty
Baby's screaming
Brother just poked her in the eye
Crying and fussing
Seems to be our new song
Something's burning
What else could go wrong?

Just another Manic Monday
I wish it were Sunday
'Cause that's my "hun" day
He can do the run day
Just another Manic Monday

Dishes, laundry,
"Please pick up all of your toys"
I wonder if messes
Are just inherit in boys
Playing, dancing
I guess I really don't mind
'Cause all of it
Is really just part of the daily grind

Mommy and Daddy Jobs

I had an interesting conversation with my oldest the other day (he's four). I was explaining how he wasn't allowed to crack the egg in the bowl while we were baking, because it was a Mommy Job (a fairly common term around our house). He clarified that cracking eggs was a Mommy Job and a Daddy Job (which is also a fairly common response of his). Curious, I asked him if there were any jobs that were just Mommy Jobs in his opinion, not Mommy and Daddy Jobs. He thought for a few moments and replied that there weren't, that there were just Mommy and Daddy Jobs.

This got me thinking. I'm raising my children in a fairly traditional household. I stay home with the kids, my husband brings home the bacon. He mows the lawn, I make dinner, etc. However, I think there are some strong differences from previous generations of parents and households. My husband is really and truly involved with our three small children. I don't mean he just waltzes in from work, plays a game of tickle, pats heads all around, and puts his feet up. Oh no, my darling husband is a 100% parent when he's home. That mean he deals with dinnertime tantrums, folds the laundry, bakes bread, puts the little ones to bed, and changes bottoms...and he doesn't even have to ask me where we keep the diaper cream and extra wet wipes. When I'm sick or have a new baby, he doesn't hesitate to step in and take care of everything. Even if my daughters' bows don't match their outfits, he still attempts. While it's true that I do a majority of the housework simply because I'm home during the day, there isn't anything he won't do, given the time and opportunity.

You know what, I gotta say I'm really, really glad that's the way it is in my house. I'm happy that I'm raising a son who believes that Daddys can do anything that Mommys can and vise-versa, yet with the most important traditional roles still in place. That was a huge priority to me when I started a family and I'm pleased that that's one thing I'm accomplishing on my to-teach list. Next up...world peace and potty training ;)



I promise this post isn't just to brag on my fabulous husband (although heaven knows I do plenty of that), instead I have a question for y'all. Is there separate Mommy Jobs and Daddy Jobs in your house or is there just Mommy and Daddy Jobs? Is there anything on you or your hubby's Won't Do list?