Homebody

I am a homebody. I love being at home. Sure, I have my times where I need to get out, but most of the time, my weekly grocery shopping cures any cabin fever I might have.
One Girls' Night Out can last me a month or more. I just don't need to be out and about. I love my house, even though it's not fancy. I love my kids, even though they drive me crazy sometimes. I even enjoy cooking, cleaning and doing laundry.
Sometimes I look at friends of mine and think "I'm so lazy." I think I should be taking my kids to Mother's Day Out or Little Gym. I should schedule more playdates. I should get them in more activities. But honestly, it wears me out just thinking about it.
I know it probably drives my friends nuts because I'm not really into chatting on the phone or always up for doing something. I like not having plans very often. I'm never bored. Honestly. If I have a time where there's not something to be cleaned or washed, someone to be fed or bathed, or wifely duties that need tending to, I don't feel bored. I feel blissful.
Right now, I'm sitting outside, on a blanket, while the baby I watch naps and Reese and Rhett run around on the sidewalk. I'm not doing anything, but I don't feel restless or bored. I feel content. The fact that we have gymnastics today bugs me more than the fact that I may not speak to another adult for 8 hours today.
My husband is going to play golf tonight and won't be home until after 9:00. I was irritated by this because he didn't tell me ahead of time and I'm a planner. And frankly, I don't want to have to take all three kids to Target, but I'm not upset that I'll be alone with the kids.
Maybe it's because I moved to Texas without a friend or family member to hang with, talk to, count on. I was home alone A LOT. I got very good at filling that time. Mani/pedis, books, magazines, computer, exercise (as a last resort). I find all kinds of ways to occupy my time if I don't have chores I have to do.
Maybe it is because I'm lazy. I hate buckling kids in and out of car seats just to run errands or "drop by" a friend's house. Maybe I just don't want to dress in something other than workout clothes or wear makeup, which I would feel the need to do if I wasn't at home all day. Maybe I am a control freak and when I'm by myself, I can watch what I want, eat what I want and boss the kids any way I want. Scratch the last sentence. Even when my husband is here and he's in charge of the remote and being picky about what we have for dinner, there's still no place else I'd rather be. (Ok, if I'm being honest, sometimes I'd rather be any place but here. The nights when kids are fighting and whining and the husband is being a turd; those nights feel a bit stifling, but fortunately, they are few and far between.)
Whatever the reason, I have decided to embrace it. I am a homebody. It works out great right now because I'm a stay at home mom with no money. The fact that it doesn't really bother me that my car may not move for 3 days at a time is probably a good thing because I can't afford to go very far anyway. Frankly, I don't do well with doing things I don't like to do, so if I hated being stuck at home or needed to be around other people all the time to be happy, I would probably be a beast to live with. (Ask Aaron what my personality was like when I had to work when Avery was a baby. I'm surprised he still liked me enough to have two more kids with me!)
So for today, I'm just going to be grateful that I'm a homebody. I feel blessed that the four people who live in this house just happen to be the four people I like to be with the most.

(P.S. How many times did I say the word 'lazy' in this post? Think I have a guilty conscience about sitting on a blanket in the front yard, jacking around on the computer when there's a floor to be vacuumed, clothes to be ironed and coupons to be clipped? Nah. No way I'm LAZY!)

Birthday Pics

Last Wednesday was Avery's actual birthday. Her friend, Lilly wasn't going to be able to attend the "official" party so we had her over after school for cake and play time.

I actually think Avery would have been fine with just this as her party. They played in the water, she got presents and cake, and we all went out to Peter Piper Pizza for dinner. Here she is, in the PPP parking lot. I let her choose her own outfit.

Yes, I think she would have been fine without an "official" party. But, we had one anyway.

Here's the "official" cake. (I think it's every bit as awesome as a fancy bakery cake...and it's a cheap one from the neighborhood Kroger!)

Obviously, we went with a Rock Star theme.

The kids dressed the part.

My mom said she thought the kids (invited to the party) were too young for Guitar Hero.

I say there's no such thing as too young to rock!

See?

Happy 6th Birthday, Doodlebug! We love you bunches!

Guess Who is 6 Years Old Today???

One of my favorites

I was going through some old stuff this morning and came across one of my favorite pictures of all time.


It's a picture of my brothers and I, doing God knows what, in the spring of '99. I love how young we look, I love that we're all grinning so big and obviously having a great time. We were camping at Ft. Gibson lake in Oklahoma...the only thing I can say about that trip is that I learned to enjoy beer for breakfast.
A few marriages, kids, and mortgages later, I'm not sure we could ever replicate that kind of carefree silliness, but I'm thankful to have memories like this!

(P.S. In case anyone is wondering why my sister wasn't in the picture, she had probably just turned 17 and was still in high school. My parents would have never let her out of the house with a bunch of nut jobs for a three day camping trip with no adult supervision. Wait. I was 26. That's technically an adult, isn't it? Is it possible I wasn't as mature as I should have been?)

He's TWO!!!!

I can't believe my baby is already two. In fact, I wouldn't believe it at all if he hadn't started yelling "NO!" at me and frowning at me at least 200 times a day.

His 2nd birthday was Saturday and we had a mini-party at home with just us and my dad, his Pa Pa. Here he is first thing Saturday morning, opening his first gift.

New shoes, which may not seem like a fun gift for a 2-year-old, but he loves shoes. Plus, they make him run super fast. See?

(He had pajamas when he woke up, but somehow, all three kids ended up in undies only.)

Here he is blowing out his candles on the ugliest cake in America. I saw a picture of an adorable cake on a box and thought I'd try to make it. I could tell early on that mine wasn't going to be adorable so we just threw some icing and sprinkles on it. The kids thought it was the coolest cake ever, but I'm extremely thankful that this cake was just for family.

His playgroup friends came over Monday and we celebrated again.

Here he is, blowing out the candle on his official cake. He said it was "Awesome," which is his latest new word and my absolute favorite. I make him say it at least 5 times a day.

Happy Birthday, Big Tuna. No matter how big you get (and how much you prefer your daddy and snub me), you'll always be my precious baby boy. LOVE YOU!!!

Wrapping Gifts

Tomorrow is Rhett's 2nd birthday. I've had his gifts for a few weeks, but just realized today that I hadn't wrapped them. I did fine until I got to the big present.
Notice anything strange about this bag?







I have tons of gift sacks in the closet. The problem is, all of the Happy Birthday ones were small and all of the bigger ones were pink "BABY" bags. I'm not going to load up three small children just to go to the store and spend $4 on a gift bag..
I settled on this one for two reasons: 1) He loves Dora; and 2) He can't read.
Feliz Navidad, Third Child. Just because I wrapped your birthday gifts in Christmas bags, does not mean I love you any less!

He's Just Organized

I happen to think it's precious that he's so precise about things like this. Plus, I love that he puts his dishes in the sink and keeps his cars lined up neatly and that he wipes up after himself when he spills something. Yes, I think it's precious, so I don't want anyone sending me a pamphlet on "Signs Your Kid May Be Rainman," or flyers touting seminars on "The Obsessive-Compulsive Child." I choose to believe he got my organizational gene and that it's my good fortune that this gene has made itself so obvious before he's even 2 years old. So there. Nothing odd about it.