Thank you, my love

Who knew parenting 2 kids and keeping up with a blog was so tough? Oye ves! I was looking back and just realized it is has been forever since I posted again.  I blame my sleep deprived state that I am in most days.  Thank God for my hot roommate who helps out when he isn’t slaying the aerospace industry with his in-geniuses.

So here is to my baby daddy.  Thank you for driving an hour one way to work every day so I can tell people my husband works for NASA.  Thank you for working so hard day in and day out so I can hang with our tiny savages and peddle ATMs on the side.  Thank you for picking up Chipotle when I am too lazy to cook dinner because I spent my day arguing with our 4 year old sassy dictator.  Thank you for filling my water bottle 100+ times a day while I am trapped under our mama lovin little man.

Thank you for looking the other way when I spend too much money at Target, again… Thank you for supporting my breastfeeding journey with both of our kids.  When I decided to stop at 8 weeks with sass and when I decided that our son will wean when he is ready.  Thank you for supporting me in EVERYTHING I do.  Whether that everything is trying to eat better, trying to eat Paleo, weightlifting, running, yoga, making homemade Kombucha tea, making homemade jam, planting our own veggie garden, building our mini farm….  Thank you.

Thank you for loving me when I was 8 weeks pregnant and sicker than a dog.  Thank you for loving me when I was 9 months pregnant and miserable.  Thank you for loving me 8 and a half years ago when we met.  Thank you for loving me now.  Every day.  Even though I am covered in stretch marks and my boobs feel like they sag down to my hips. Even though I struggle with anxiety day in and day out.  Thank you for loving me.  Every day. Even when my hair hasn’t been washed in 4 days, I am in shambles, and I have bags under my eyes and am crying because our kids drive me nuts but good God do I love them so much.  Thank you.  I love YOU so much for loving me. Jana-66


Beautiful Girl

I like to think that I am a strong woman.  I like to think that I am instilling those traits in our daughter.  We tell her she is strong, kind, intelligent and beautiful, nearly every day.  We try to work with her to see how she can overcome obstacles and get past frustrations.  She is a strong willed child.  What is that part in the Moana song?  “You are your father’s daughter, stubbornness and pride…”  That is sass in a sentence.  She is growing and changing so much every day.  She is noticing that people are different, and like every 4 year old she states those differences very bluntly.

Wednesday evening while I was getting her ready for bed, she stood in her little undies and smacked the sides of her thighs.  I asked what in the world she was doing.  Her response was “Mommy, I am getting fat, I need to stretch and do workouts more.”  My heart broke.  It sank down into the pit of my stomach.  I nearly welled up with tears as I pulled her close to me and told her “No, you are not fat.  You are beautiful.  You are smart. You are brave.  Mommy and Daddy are so proud of the little girl that you are.  You have become such a great big sister and you are our favorite girl in the entire world.” She smiled but still seemed displeased with my response.

I wrapped my arms around her and asked her to look at her hands.  She did.  I said “Now look at mommy’s hands.”  She did.  I asked her what was different about them.  “Well mommy, your hands are big and mine are tiny.”  I then asked her about the other differences we have in our family.  “Mommy you are short and daddy is big.  Daddy is bald and Harrison has baby hair and I have long hair like Rapunzel.”  I kissed her on the head and told her she was right.  The next statement I said, I was hoping I would never have to have with our daughter.  Let alone at the age of 4.

“Honey, you are beautiful, you are not fat.  Fat is a bad word, we don’t say that word in our house.  Everyone is different.  Some people are tall, some are short.  Some are big, some are little.  Some people have blonde hair, like you, some have red hair, like Harrison.  Some people have blue eyes, some have brown.  Some people have different colors of skin, and guess what?”  She looked at me and smiled, “What mommy?”

I said “It is beautiful.  Everyone is different and it is beautiful.”  She seemed pleased with that response.  She repeated everything I told her back to me and assured me that we wouldn’t say the word “fat” anymore because it was bad.  Now if we could all remember that when thinking of ourselves and others.  Everyone is beautiful.  Everyone is different. That it is perfectly okay, too.  Mommies and Daddies.  Brothers and Sisters. Grandmas and Grandpas. Aunts and Uncles.  Please remember that our littles are sponges, they absorb everything they hear.  Some of the words are hurtful and can have a big impact on their little minds.


Welcome Back!

Hello everyone! It has been quite some time.  A little over a year, actually.  We became a family of four.  We have been finding time to adjust to all the changes of having two kids, basically it is an even playing field these days.  Two vs Two.  Bed time is typically a shit show, but I digress.  We welcomed our handsome, little man on May 19, 2016.  He is a joy and we are so blessed to have him in our lives.  Sass has adjusted I guess as well as any 4 year old can to having a brother.  We go through trials, we have ups, and downs, but seeing the two of them starting to play together (and fight) brings me so much happiness. It is why we had two.  Welcome back, and I look forward to sharing more chaotic stories in my life as a momma to two beautiful, little poop bandits.  CI6A7592.jpg

Shit Sass Says

Everyone always says “kids say the darndest things” and maybe I am biased, but sass says the most hilarious shit these days.  She has an opinion and a theory on EVERYTHING.  I was starting to get worried she maybe didn’t get my sense of humor gene but I think she just took some time to start expressing herself because she is HILARIOUS now.  Here is a run down of a few of the hilarious things she has said the past few weeks.

Eating cookies with my dad at the kitchen table she was nagging him to go play with her. My dad calmly replied “let me finish my cookie and we can go play.” Very seriously she looked at him and went “Pop you get a belly ache and poop if you eat cookies, come on!”

On the same belly ache story line, she had a little bit of a belly ache a few weeks ago.  I have apparently told her not to drink the bath water a couple 100+ times because she looked at me real serious, slightly in pain from her belly ache and replied “I drink the water in the bath, I have a belly ache and poop mommy.”  (I monitor her baths very closely, she never drinks the water anymore so I know it must have just been a little bug or something not agreeing with her) At least I know it’s not going in one ear and out the other!

A few weeks ago we took her to see her great grandparents and as we were walking in she screamed “ohhh mommy old people live here!!!!!”  I replied “It’s Grammy and Papa’s house, that’s not nice to say.”  And that was that!

I made the mistake of teaching her the “damn daniel” trend… It was really very hilarious and caused me to nearly pass out from laughing too hard.  Then she started running around the whole night screaming “DAAAAAMNNNN Oliver!” at our one pug.  I had to come up with a new catchy saying so we went with “woahhhhhh zo!” so she screams that at the other pug now.  Whewwww dodged a bullet with that one.

The first few weeks that we could feel baby brother kick around in my belly I made sure she got to put her hand on my belly to feel.  I just thought it would be the coolest thing for her to feel.  More often than not she was totally irritated that I made her take time out of her busy schedule to put her hand on my stomach, but a lot of times she was more or less just very curious about “what he doning in there???”  I explained he is growing and wiggling and kicking around.  Ever so seriously and completely disgusted with me she replied “Mommy he no kick a soccer ball!!! He a baby and too little!!!!” Obviously…what was I thinking?

We have a nightly routine before bed time, Sass gets a bath, she has a snack, has quiet time and watches a show or two on the couch then is in bed between 7 and 730.  Last night she did her nightly thing then said goodnight to her daddy and then she has to get really close to my belly and scream “NIGHT BABY BROTHER!!!”  (The poor kid will most likely stay in forever due to this activity, he is probably scared shitless of the chaos outside). After the 2 minutes of up close screaming at my belly, she stopped dead in her tracks and looked at me and went “Mommy when he come out?? He take EVERRRR!” (I assume she meant forever) I replied “Soon baby, he will be here soon.  He has to get a little bigger and stronger then he will be here.”  She seemed satisfied with that explanation then gave me a look of confusion and asked “Mommy how he get out of there???”  (I have been dreading this conversation all of my pregnancy and honestly was surprised we made it 7 months without any questions asked).  I said “Well he knows how to get out, he finds a way like all babies do.” She also seemed accepting of that explanation then I saw a light bulb go off . “MOMMY YOU HAVE A ZIPPER!!!!! Let me see your zipper!!!!!”  (She also says zipper like “zippa” as if she is British so it made the moment even more hilarious)

I can’t wait for all of the funny questions and statements that will soon come when baby brother actually does arrive and she realizes her downstairs is different than his! These past few months with her I will cherish so much and laugh for years to come at all of the funny things she has said, but nothing will compare to seeing her with her new baby brother in a few weeks and the fun conversations we get to have as she gets older!!

Here is sass with her post-gymnastics donut this past weekend!

ella march 2016

A Letter to My Daughter

I remember the moment I found out we were expecting you.  I was so overjoyed and wanted to shout it from the top of my lungs.  The months went by and soon I began to feel your little flutters, which then became big kicks.  I remember sitting in your nursery dreaming of what you would look like and who you would take after more, me or daddy. The moment they placed you in my arms, I fell in love all over again with daddy.  Daddy helped give me you and you gave me the name mommy.  The greatest job I have ever had.

You have grown so fast and some times I feel like life spirals around me so quickly.  You are 3 years old right now and the worst of your troubles is when your sock doesn’t sit right on your toes or when your play-doh snake breaks.  You look at the entire world with such inquisition and want to explore and learn so much.  You are as much of a little princess as you are a little grease monkey with daddy in the basement, passing him his different tools in your little hands with your ever so perfectly polished finger nails while sporting your frilly princess gowns.

You will never be this little again.  You change every day and it amazes me over and over again.  I worry I will forget the little things some days and it breaks my heart so much. Like the way your hair smells in the mornings when you curl up on my lap (in case you were wondering it smells like love) or the way you sometimes have a British accent when you pronounce things like “water” or “daddy” because you have watched your fair share of Peppa Pig.  I love when you get close to mommy’s belly and shout “hewwo baby brother, I wuv you.”  I love to hear you sing silly songs, forgetting some words and adding in others where they don’t belong, but it will always be my favorite version of the song.

I love that you still want me to hold you and pick you up.  I love that sometimes late at night or early in the morning you sneak into bed with mommy and daddy because “you miss me mommy?”  My favorite thing in the world is to cuddle you at night when you sleep, so quiet and peaceful.  There will come a day, when it will be the last time I hear your little feet come running down the hallway to climb in bed with us, but I hope it isn’t any time soon.  I love that when I kiss you and tell you I love you over and over again, you ever so calmly tell me “that’s enough” because at times I can be a bit overbearing.  I think I tell you 100 times a day how much I love you, because little girl, I do love you ever so much.  I love that I joke with daddy that you will never leave and go off to school and be a grownup, even though I know you will and that’s okay.  You will still be my little girl.

I love dreaming of all the amazing things you will do in your life and what your little hands will do some day.  Will you grow up to be a doctor, engineer, teacher, writer?  And no matter what you want to do, I just want you to be happy.  Daddy and I always say we never knew happiness until you.  You made mommy and daddy who we are today.  We can’t wait to see you grow and be the greatest big sister in the world soon to your baby brother.  We have never been so proud.  You will forever be our little girl and we thank you for making us into better people and for making us want to make the world a better place for you.

We love you so much more than to the moon and back again.




Photo Credit: Candystick Photography

A Beautiful World

ella dec 2015.2I was having a conversation this morning with a friend on how thankfully, the chaos of the terrible (cough I mean TERRIFIC) twos really does subside.  Sass is currently 3 and a half and I LOVE this age.  Granted we still fight with each other about silly stuff on the regular.  Last night my roomie was amazed that I wouldn’t just give up my seat for her to sit in.  I turned full on crazy, preggo and demanded sass share or sit in her own GD chair.  I am the boss, damnit.  You win some you lose some.  In early pregnancy when I was SO sick (I am sure you recall my ever melodramatic post about how I literally felt like the baby was sucking the life from me)…Anyways, I caved and let sass have more popsicles than I could count in one day.  It got me thinking that there really is no “cookie cutter” way to go through parenting (really no matter how many books you read, shit is crazy as a parent). Too bad we can’t look at the world and other people the way a 3 year old does, simply beautifully.  My lesson of the day is we should never look down on someone else because they don’t do things the way you would.  Unless that person is wearing crocs.  Don’t wear crocs unless you are under 7…or over 50. Thank you.

I read a post last week about how us mommies can be our own biggest judges.  I am so guilty of this.  I always wonder if we are raising our daughter the right way.  If I should limit her screen time more.  Force more veggies in her mouth.  I see people without children (or who have grown children) that judge us parentals all the time.  My favorite is “when I have kids my child will never act like that”.  Well I used to be that type of person and I will tell you now that that’s bullshit.  Granted I am the oldest of a whole litter of kids, so I have been around toddler temper tantrums and the smart ass tween stages, so I had some idea of what to expect, but you never really know until they are your own.  Some stages can be royally embarrassing and others utterly miserable.

Going out to eat with sass used to be torture.  It was more stressful for me than enjoyable. She is finally a civilized being and will sit with you at the table, but she used to be like a farm animal and climb on the table, fling food, and squeal.  It was torture for us.  We believe in discipline with her, but we don’t run a military training camp.  She is a little girl, she is still growing and learning.  She is sat down and talked to and now knows when she does something wrong and that we don’t act certain ways, but until kids are about 2 1/2 or 3 they really don’t have a damn clue what you are trying to explain to them.  So if you see me dragging my kid on her belly behind our shopping cart at the grocery store…in true Elsa fashion….let it go.  Turn the other way, chances are I wouldn’t let her slam a bag of M&Ms or throw a pepper through the produce section.  It is much easier to just carry on than fuel the tiny, blazing fire of a temper tantrum.

Like I said, I am totally enjoying the hilarious 3 year old stage we are going through.  Sass is so honest, literal, and 99% of the time incredibly blunt that I find myself having a hard time even explaining things to her.  She brought home a painting from school that appeared to be a bowl of blueberries.  I asked her about it and she replied with “No mommy, that is brown paper and blue paint”.  Totally disgusted with me and incredibly literal.

We have encountered a couple really awkward situations in public over the past few months as well.  Unfortunately more than once while shopping at our ever so favorite store, the red ball store (aka Target) sass saw a couple little women wearing bonnets in the dollar section. Immediately “baaaa-ed” at them and screamed “It’s BO PEEP MOMMY!!” Now how in the hell do you explain to a 3 year old that in certain religions and in certain lifestyles women wear bonnets?  You don’t.  You move on and bribe them with a toy just so they close their mouths.  “Hey look there’s an Elsa toy that you don’t have yet.”

Last week we were on our way home from the doctor’s office and the baby belly decided it really wanted a blizzard from DQ.  We stopped and got some ice cream and from the backseat sass is screaming “MOMMY WHO IS THAT LITTLE BOY WITH MY ICE CREAM CONE?”  No no, there was not a little boy serving us her ice cream in the drive thru.  It was a shorter woman with a very cropped, pixie type haircut.  I just ignored her and proceeded to distribute our ice cream.  We live in a world where you have to basically tiptoe around to try and not offend someone these days, I really didn’t want to cross that bridge with my 3 year old just let.  I will just let her live in her little world while she can, because the world through her eyes is so beautiful.


(The pic of sass is at DisneyWorld two weeks ago.  Sometimes you just have to let your 3 year old play in the splash pad and buy her new, dry clothes, because it made her SO HAPPY and that was totally worth it to me)

My Lovely Baby Bumps…

Saturday we reach our magic number of 12 weeks.  I am starting to grow a lovely (tiny) baby bump. To most I just look like I have been binge eating Chipotle double meat burritos for 3 weeks though.  I can VERY proudly say that I have passed my excessive vomiting stage as well.  6 days barf free.  I still get little waves of nausea, but it is like night and day to me.  The wonderful joys of pregnancy.  It is a beautiful thing.  I may just barely look pregnant but I sure feel it already.  I swear I aged like 15 years since my last pregnancy (which was only 3 and a half years ago).  I feel like an old, achy granny this time around.  I recently had a conversation with the nurse at my doctor’s office about the weirdest pregnancy symptoms.

1.) Shit.  Have you ever eaten a pound of cheese and not been able to use the bathroom for a week?  That is pregnancy.  (Don’t get all grossed out on me here, you have either a) been pregnant and can relate or b) you caused someone this shit – pun intended…and EVERYONE DOES IT)  Anyways, I am finally able to eat “healthy” foods so my diet consists of more than toast, poptarts, and mashed potatoes, so my fruit and veggie intake has increased drastically.  I ate 3 salads in a matter of 36 hours this week and nothing. If my sister would have done that she would be seat belted to the toilet.  Point blank, it is possible my baby “bump” is really just me being filled with shit.

2.) Knockers.  It is amazing how much can change in just a matter of a few weeks.  At 10 weeks pregnant I had to buy new bras because my girls literally look like I am engorged already.  I am to the point where I haven’t a damn clue what size comes after the size I am currently in….at 10 weeks!!! I am scared to death I will look like Dolly Parton in 10 more weeks.  My roomie keeps telling me “they’re big veiny bastards” (if you have seen Superbad you will recognize the line).  Gee thanks honey, I didn’t already know they were massive, they practically smother me in my sleep as it is.  Literally feel short of breath when I lay down because they crush me.  (sorry to any family members that are uncomfortable reading about my massive boobs)

3.) Nausea.  You all know about my barf issue that I suffered through for 6 weeks. Not much more to talk about there.  I only took a pregnancy test because I felt sick for 3 days and at first thought I caught kiddie crud from sass.  Amazing how fast that happens.  We now refer to that time frame as “the walking dead” and I only called our unborn child a small baby vampire…Call me melodramatic, but I mildly started to look like Bella Swan in the last Twilight books/movies.  I would not wish that on anyone.

4.) Sleep.  I am so hostile about my sleep right now.  Granted I kind of always have been, but any disturbance and I turn into a hormonal raging biatch.  Do not touch me while I am sleeping, if a foot crosses over on my side of the bed, my annoyance is heard immediately.  I have to be in bed early, and I prefer sleeping later than when the sunshine comes up, any less and I am a bear.

5.) Sensitive Skin.  While we are talking about bears, that’s basically what my legs look like.  I had the same thing while pregnant with sass.  I can barely shave my legs without my legs breaking out into a rash.  Yessssssssss I have tried different razors, different shave creams, nothing works.  So I am part time woolly mammoth. (I had to google how to spell woolly, thank you baby brain).  I bruise like it’s my job.  I used an all natural/organic goji berry face mask to help dry up my oily face and it looked like I had a sunburn for 4 hours.  I am not kidding, have you seen the episode of Sex and the City where Samantha gets microdermabrasion?  That was me.  FLAMIN RED FACE exactly where the mask was.

So other pregnant ladies, you are not alone.  I can assure you, these shitless months are totally worth it once you get to hold your tiny poop bandit!!!

Baby bump

A Family of Four

I began writing this blog to share funny stories about sass, while we still have many funny stories, I also wanted other mothers and fathers to be able to relate to the crazy stories of living with a toddler/preschooler and the struggles and joys that come along with being a young family.  To my surprise, when I post on the blog I get quite a bit of traffic.  Nothing crazy and noteworthy that may make headline news, but quite a bit in my opinion for being rather inconsistent.  So like all other stories and posts, I was hoping to relate to others again with this one.  Most people wait to announce their pregnancy until they have reached “the safe zone” and have just crossed over into the 2nd trimester.  We opted not to wait.

The roomie and I are thrilled to announce we are expecting a new bouncing baby.  Sass is so incredibly excited that she is going to be a big sister and will argue with anyone who tries to explain that there is a chance the baby could be a brother. She is convinced it is a “baby sista”.  We have had all kinds of questions on expanding our family for years now.  Once you pop one baby out of your nether region, it opens up all kinds of personal questions about when you will have another.  As stated in previous posts, we had a hard time adjusting to becoming a family of three so once we got our rhythm we figured we would take our time.  It also took a little bit longer to get pregnant with this bean than it did with sass as well and I would be lying if I didn’t get a little down and discouraged through the journey.  A week before I took a pregnancy test I was putting sass to bed one evening and she looked up at me and said “Mommy, me a sista.”  I smiled and said “Do you think you’re a big sister?” where as she simply smiled and said “I go to the store and pick a baby sista”.  Little did I know, she was absolutely right.  She was going to be a big sister and we just didn’t know it yet.  Granted we didn’t pick the baby from the store, but somehow she knew.

I am scared, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t.  I like routine.  I like being in control.  Pregnancy and growing your family is none of those things.  I am afraid I won’t be able to divide my time between sass and the new baby bean.  I am afraid my roomie and I will fall into old habits of not communicating and we will dislike each other again.  I am afraid sass will feel resentful and hurt that someone else will be getting my attention, but I am also so incredibly excited to become a family of four.  Just yesterday sass lifted my shirt up when I was on the couch and got really close to my belly and whispered “hewwoo baby sista” and then blew raspberries on my tummy.  I teared up and all my worries went away.  I know the love I have for my siblings and the memories I have made with them and I cannot wait for her to experience those things as well.

We shared our pregnancy news a little bit earlier than most.  In my opinion, women shouldn’t have to “tough” through those early weeks alone.  It is scary as all hell the first few weeks.   You’re praying and hoping baby keeps growing and your pregnancy progresses.  Heaven forbid something were to happen, I know I could not go through it alone.  No woman should have to experience it alone.  Every twinge of pain, every silly, little symptom just throws you over the edge.  You become a googling addict.  It just snowballs into one big horrible scenario that makes you believe you are growing a pterodactyl in your belly if you drink a half a cup of coffee or take a Tylenol because you have a headache from hell.

Once you get past the first few weeks after a positive test the good stuff comes on.  I have been puking for like a month straight, it’s so bad I have lost weight and I had to be medicated (insert googling addict tendencies that have now lead me to believe the barf medication will give my baby 7 eyes on it’s forehead).  For those of you who went to college, or have had one too many drinks before, the best comparison I can give you is “the worst hangover you have ever had in your life, minus the headache” (again I am trying to relate).  Smells are nauseating.  Noises irritate you.  You are so nauseated that you can’t eat, and then you are nauseated because you literally can’t eat and you’re so hungry.  It is a brutal cycle.  We ladies need lots of support in the early weeks!

Pregnancy is a beautiful thing.  Women can do what no man can do.  (I am still a little skeptical about that movie where Arnold is carrying a baby…so maybe some men can).  We endure so much.  Our bodies change immediately.  They shift and move and change and you don’t feel like yourself.  This is all my experience.  I know some women who LOVE being pregnant.  I would rather experience childbirth than be pregnant, but I have my eye on the prize.  We cannot wait for the joys of a new baby.  I can’t wait to see sass with her new baby brother or sister.  I can’t wait to see my husband light up seeing both of his kids when he gets home from work, in the mean time, I am going to take one of my barf tranquilizers, stomach a piece of plain toast, attempt to drink some water, and curl up with the 3 year old little lady who has my heart right now…until she shares it with a new baby in a few short months.

big sister ella

Man Crush Everyday

Want to know what chaps my ass?  Couples who boast about themselves on how they do not need to “post about their significant other for them to know they love each other”.  Yet you can post about your dog? #nationaldogday #cutestdogsintheland or you can post about your children (who if are under the age of 14 probably don’t have social media and can’t see that shit) but you can’t give a shout out to your spouse?  How selfless of you. (please don’t tar and feather me now)

Social Media is all about bragging.  “Check this 5 course meal I made!! #Emeril #Chef #Noms” or “Here I am on the beach. #blessed #lovemylife #beachin”  I am victim of it far too often, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t want a shout out on occasion.  Who doesn’t want a little bit of appreciation?  In my roomie’s defense, he is a very quiet, very reserved man.  For the longest time I didn’t even know if he knew how to operate social media, but on occasion I get a nice Woman Crush Wednesday thrown my way.  Awww thanks babe for putting me above celebrity women and giving me 24 hours of glory.  You da best.

Where am I going with this?  Right.  My roomie, husband, bestie, love….rocks (insert rocker hand emoji here). The man has become so selfless in the past (almost) 7 years.  He works full time, almost an hour from home so I can work part time and stay home with our sass to raise her.  He goes to school part time, and is working on his 4th degree so he can continue to better himself.  More often than not, during the school year we barely see him. Take last week for example, he has been working on a big project at work (sending spaceships into space or something) so he is working overtime and he has class Monday-Thursday until 8-9pm every night.  It is hard.  We miss him.  Ella saw him approximately 1 hour last week until Friday evening.  I feel like a single mom during the school year, but he is doing this to better our lives.  He rarely complains.  He is the bees knees.

I will admit, the man can drive me crazy sometimes.  He can get under my skin.  He tells me I load the dishwasher wrong.  I don’t recycle up to his standards (yea I didn’t know there was a guideline for recycling either). I leave my socks on the couch 99% of the time and it drives him NUTS, but I love him unconditionally.  It has taken a long time for us to be in such a good place.  Everyone grows in a relationship and with growing together comes growing pains.

We have never had a jealous relationship.  His past relationships are his past.  I am his now.  We are 100% honest, we have no secrets.  Which is why I have to buy gifts for him the day I intend to give them because I get so excited and I always spill the beans.

We have learned to compromise over things.  If he wants to have a night out alone or vice versa, that’s okay, we have FOREVER together.  We have a joint checking and we have separate checking accounts for spending.  I have never had to ask him “where did you get that money to spend?”  Although, more than once I have had to say “Hey I need more money to go to Target again…help me I’m poor”  (Remember I work part time from home) I try to not nag him about leaving dishes in the sink (even though I swear he breeds tupperwares in his car).  He works so hard to give us the life we have; a dirty dish is really small in comparison to other worldly issues.  (Not couple or relationship shaming – it took us a while to get here and I am damn proud)

He is SO wonderful with sass.  When she was first born it was like he was dealing with an alien (for most of the first year of her life it was like that) but he seriously is amazing with her now #bestdadever.  While cleaning up the dishes the other night she demanded he play barbies with her.  I peeked in the play room and saw the two of them laying on their bellies and he was carrying on “barbie convos” in a high pitched voice and she was giggling right along. I thought “this is my bliss”.  I will gladly clean up dinner dishes just to listen to our daughter giggle and play with her daddy.

Now that I have tooted his horn for approximately 800 words… I will just say “I love you, Grantie.” More than I could ever express in a Man Crush Monday post.  More than I could ever express in a Throwback Thursday or Flashback Friday post.  More than I could ever express in a simple, little blog post.  I love you to the moon and back just isn’t enough.

summer 2011