Back on the Mucus Merry-go-round

Well, I knew it was going to happen. Last week at work, there was a little boy, Simon, who was all snotty and cranky and coughing, and I took one look at him and I just knew I was gonna get it.

So here we are. Mr. Man, Da Boy, and I. Back on the mucus merry-go-round. Full-time workers at the snot factory. At 4:30 this morning Da Boy comes in our bedroom, goes to Mr. Man's side of the bed and say's...

Daddy, daddy?

I hear a low groan beside me sounds like "whhhaaaaaaaa"

Daddy, I has a issue! (and he points to his nose)

You have an issue? Huh?

I has an issue? Teeeease? (pointing emphatically at his face, with slime running into his mouth)




Poor guy, I really feel bad for him, both of them actually. Mr. Man has to work, so he's out there in the cold bringing home the bacon, while Da Boy and I sit here sniffing and snuffling, playing Cars bingo and being warm.

So, today I get to email the couples in our growth group and cancel the group meeting at our house on Sunday. There's no way I'm letting 2 families in here to get sick. Don't get me wrong, sharing is good, just not this kind.

Being a 50/50 Mom

Being a fifty/fifty Mom ain't easy. Millions of women do it, and  I can bet maybe 10 of them like it. Personally, I don't. It's terrible. Sure there are times when Da Boy is with his birth dad and Mr. Man and I can go out, or stay in (wink wink, nudge nudge) and not have to worry about Da Boy seeing or hearing something he shouldn't. But every moment he isn't here - I'm thinking of him. Hubby and I tell stories about him to each other, almost like he won't be coming back "Remember how Da Boy says "teesburbur?" Awww.

After he's been here for two weeks (and any mom on Earth will agree) he's made his mark on the place. There is a hot wheel car on the floor by the TV, a lone sock under the coffee table, a couple crayons on the dining room table. The stool is still next to the toilet, and his toys are in the bathtub. and there are at least 2 cups, half filled with strawberry lemonade sitting in various places. When he leaves... I have a hard time cleaning up. I feel like I'm removing all traces of him from our house, our lives - and I hate that! So, I don't. Yeah ok, I'll find and wash the cups, maybe (and I mean maybe!) pick up the sock. The rest... not so much. I like seeing a hot wheels car around, and I'll put his bath toys all together but I leave them in the bathroom, by the tub. I refuse to clean his room until the day before he comes back, because I can go in there when no one else is home and just sit on his bed and it feels like he's still here.

There are a few good things (I feel like a bad mom saying this) about him not being here for two weeks at a time. Chris and I can schedule things and stay out late, get up when we want, and not get dressed just to go get some water. We save money on food, and can eat tator tots and cookies for dinner if we choose. I have more time during the day for things like cleaning, blogging, and reading, and I don't have to take him to work with me.

But it's too quiet. And boring. And lame. I spend half the time depressed, the other half cranky and anxious.I miss him, Chris missed him and the cats ... well the cats actually enjoy it when he's gone for the most part since they don't have to hide up high or run for their lives when Da Boy decides he needs to carry them by their heads. However, I've caught them both sneaking into his room and they will lay on his bed to sleep (which they never ever do when he's here)

Ahhh, when he's here. Just typing it makes me smile. When he's here, life is good. Don't get me wrong, he's still four, and a boy, and my psycho kid, but he makes my heart happy when he comes home. He drives me crazy, and gives me headaches and makes me grind my teeth with cuss words I don't dare utter. But I get kisses, and he plays with my hair, and tells me I'm buuful. I get to be a "dinesorus" and a pirate, and we color and dance and sing. He helps me clean and cook and make lemonade. He tries my patience and pushes the limits, and cries when I don't read him enough bedtime stories. And just about the time we get into the groove and things start getting settled and into a routine... it's time to go back. *sigh*

Being a 50/50 mom sucks... but (like Chris says) "At least I'm blessed enough to have such an awesome kid for fifty percent of my life"

Home Sweet Home

I love my home... not 'just' my home, but my house. It's not massive or brand new or custom. It doesn't have a bay window, or a garden tub in the 'master bath'.  You know what it has? Way more than any of that...

We've completely re-painted the living room, dining room, Josh's room, and the guestroom. We've torn out all the carpet in the entryway and had pergo flooring put in - AND a brand new 'princess' style glass door. We've re-painted the bathroom cabinets and trim. We've painted and faux'd the fireplace. New doors on all the rooms and closets, with new doorknobs and hardware to match. We've poured our hearts and souls into this house, and you know what? It's better than any new house. Why? Because my family lives here. We've made memories here that will never be forgotten. I'm damn proud of this place, and when I look around the rooms .. I know I am blessed.

I am blessed to have such a kind, loving, understanding husband. I'm blessed to have a bright, happy, healthy son. I am blessed to be breathing, to have laughter in my life, to have my family, my friends, and my life. I am blessed to have the church I go to , that is teaching me to be in right relationship with my God. I am blessed to have this house... and everything that goes along with it.