'Fess Up Friday

It's that time of the week....time to fess up and post your link to Mr. Linky (seriously, why aren't more of you doing this? It is so dang fun, c'mon!).

My confession for the day:

Reason #974 why I hate Girl Scout Cookies: A box arrived at our house from my neice the other day. We only bought 4 boxes, there were 8 in there. 3 of them were shortbread, my personal weakness. I ate an entire tube of them in about 20 minutes. Damn Girl Scouts and their delicious treats.

Your turn!

Today

Today I just want to me Mom.

Today I just want to drink coffee in my PJs and play cars and barbies.

Today I want to be in sweats.

Today I want to unplug a toilet that isn't in my visitor center.

Today I want to eat Pixar Cars Mac N Cheese for lunch.

Today I want to curl up and read Dr. Seuss with two sweet little children who will snuggle up close and listen to my every word.

Today I want to tuck my little ones in for a nap so they can have an extra kiss, hug and an I love you from me.

Today I want to be home when they come wandering out of their rooms with their hair all messed up, rubbing their eyes perched atop their pink & warm I-just-woke-up-from-my-nap-and-couldn't-wait-to-see-you cheeks.

Today.

Time for a change

Why is change such a hard thing for people to accept? And why can't we as humans, easily separate our own personal desires from what is needed when it comes to change?

Me, I embrace change. Without change, I get bored. Sort of explains my resume I guess. But what I cannot handle are people who can't see the greater good beyond their own selfish perceptions of what is important.

I wish there was a manual for those of us on both sides of an issue to take a broader look at change and see it from the other person's perspective as well as what is best for the greater good.

I guess that is my learning for the day. The greater good. I suppose I need to take my own medicine and step outside of my selfish desire to be an at-home mom and realize that if not for being a working mother, we honestly wouldn't be able to live in this community.

Hopefully in this I can be an example to others who need to take a look at the bigger picture and understand that change, while difficult to accept and comprehend, can sometimes be the best thing that could happen.

Change is a roller coaster ride, you just have to know the risks but get in hold on tight anyways and see where it leads. You might end up feeling exhilarated and renewed for having taken the chance.

'Fess Up Friday

My confession today:

I am playing hooky and spending extra time with my kiddos instead of going to work. I didn't call in sick, didn't make up a lie, I am just spending time with my kids (well other than blogging right now) and I can hear them screaming and fighting in the other room so I best get in there to referee.

Your turn! Post your confession and link it through Mr. Linky to the right....

Uh oh, I think someone might be bleeding now.....

Life in a northern town

I finally figured it out. I figured out what my issue is. (well, one of the many that is) Life in a small town, for me, is a challenge. I often make fun of Sandpoint and its quirks...but in all reality I know now that it isn't Sandpoint that I don't like.

After all, what isn't to like about living smack dab between a giant mountain and a gorgeous lake? Why wouldn't you love the easy access to outdoor activities? Honestly, that is my favorite thing.

But yesterday I had a short drive out to Dover, all by myself. No sweet little kiddos to talk to, no Imagination Mover's CD to disturb my thoughts. Just me and the road. And the traffic.

Yes, I said traffic. And by traffic, I don't mean the quantity, because let's face it, we don't have a lot. It was the pace. Slow.

That is my issue. The pace of life. Things are slow, a "take it easy mentality." A feeling of "oh well, no worries" if something isn't on time. Why on earth would that bother me? Because it gives me time to think about all that I am missing out on.

In a city, everything is at a much faster pace. Hurry here, hurry there, get it done, make it happen. There's no time to reflect until bedtime, and then you're so exhausted you pass out asleep as your head hits the pillow. And why on earth would someone want to live that way?

Because you don't have time to sit back and realize that someone else spends more time with your kids that you do.

You don't think about the fact that despite your best efforts to the contrary, work puts itself in the front of the line and your family loses the race sometimes.

You don't have time to cry because you had to go to a 7 am meeting and you didn't get to see your kids.

You don't have time to realize that you haven't even taken an entire week off to spend as a family just because.

You don't have the opportunity to dwell on the fact that now is the only time to really spend time with your kids because one day they'll be in school, playing with friends all the time, in sports, and quite frankly they won't want your time.

But they do now.

And that is what occupies my thoughts in this town, every day.

Signs You're a Working Mom

• You have actually found yourself sleeping on the toilet after getting up to pee in the middle of the night.
• The only sound loud enough to wake you up is a blood curdling scream from the bedroom on the other end of the house.
• You consider 5 hours of uninterrupted slumber a solid night's sleep.
• The occasional Starbucks has transformed into a daily caffeine fix and you don't care where your coffee comes from, as long as its hot and highly buzz-inducing.
• You realize that the CD player is full of music about animals, the alphabet and the occasional cartoon character.
• You can't remember when it happened, but you enjoy the aforementioned music and know all the words.
• You accept the fact that no matter what you wear to work, you will have small handprints made of breakfast somewhere on your person.
• You can't remember the last time you willingly worked late.
• You can't remember the last time you didn't have fast food at LEAST once a week.
• You can't remember what life was like before you had children. And you don't care!

'Fess Up Fridays

In honor of the last Friday of Lent (also known as Good Friday) I am starting a new series:

Welcome to 'Fess Up Fridays, courtesy of Mr. Linky (you are gonna love this)!

My confession: Last night at Zips Drive-In (yes, mother of the year here bought fast food for dinner for the kids, but only really healthy corn dogs, french fries with a tootsie pop for dessert) and I ALMOST had exact change, I was only missing three pennies. I scrounged around my purse, cupholders and the car mats and found three pennies. One of them had a chocolate chip stuck to it (at least it LOOKED like one) and I gave it to the lady at the window so I didn't have to use the credit card. She quickly switched it out to a "clean" penny (I think she didn't believe me that it was chocolate, but in her defense it did kinda look like a terd).

Now it's YOUR turn for 'Fess Up Friday. Blog your confession for today and then post a link (with a comment) where it says "Mister Linky" and 'Fess Up Fridays. Can't wait to read all those confessions. If we confess, that means the Easter Bunny will bring us something right?

Just thinking

I am at work, actually working (I swear) and I kind of got a little sidetracked. I literally have a shrine of photos of my children all over my desk and computer (I count five photos alone just taped to my monitor).

Yesterday was a tough day for me. I won't go into details because my boss and boss-to-be read my blog (you know you do!) but suffice it to say that sometimes I need a reality check of what is most important in life. Those photos of my beautiful children are the reminder of why I'm here. They bring me back to earth when I feel I am being swept away.

Being a working mother is, at times, the most difficult and frustrating job. It's one that you can never get right. It's the toughest job you'll never love.

Remember when you were a kid and you played "Red Rover Red Rover"? You held hands on one end of the field, and if you were lucky enough you were on the end, so the risk of a broken arm was reduced 50%.

You stood there, holding on as tight as you could.

Waiting. Watching. Hoping. Praying.

Suddenly, someone comes screaming across the grass, running as hard and as fast as they can, 5 seconds seems like a lifetime.

You stare, wide eyed, breathless, waiting to see where they will smash their body in the hopes of tearing apart those arms, holding strong together.

The best possible outcome is that someone else's arms linked to someone else's arms are separated and broken apart.

But sometimes, inevitably, it's your arms that get torn apart, no matter how hard you hold on.

And so it is being a working mother.

Kids say the Darndest things

I picked the kids up Friday and drove them home. When I pulled in the garage and opened the back door to unbuckle Kaylee, the most ungodliest stench wafted towards my nostrils.

I asked both kids who "tooted" and neither one of them would claim it. I asked which one of them pooped their pants, and again, no takers. Finally I said "It smells like farts back here guys, which one of you was it?" and do you know what my angelic daughter said?

"It wasn't us Mom. That smells like one of YOURS."

I joined the "OMG I need a glass of wine or I'm gonna sell my kids" group on Facebook.