SAHM

I am a stay at home mom. It is hard. Sometimes I love it but sometimes...well...I HATE it with the fire of a thousand suns! I realize that this is a choice and that Chris puts us in a fortunate financial situation so that I can do this. Regardless, sometimes it is really, really difficult, lonely and frustrating. Today, I let one child ride on the others back while hitting him in the head with a matchbox car just so they would leave me alone for ONE DAMN MINUTE!!  

That being said, I am about to make a bold and polarizing statement: I cannot fathom how someone survives as a working parent or a single parent. I absolutely beyond a shadow of a doubt would be a miserable person if I were either. I vaguely remember how tired I was driving home from work when I worked a full time job before I had Connor. I cannot imagine a day spent dealing with the stress and irritations that come with a full time job then coming home to grouchy, tired children who still have to be cared for no matter how much you want to collapse on the couch.

It is true when they say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. Chris has been out of town for less than 24 hours and I am completely exhausted and irritable. Not only I am missing Chris my husband but I am missing Chris my co-parent! No matter what happens during my day I know that he will be home at some point to help. Some days knowing that he will be there to relieve me is the only thing that keeps me from locking myself in my closet. Both of my sisters were single mothers – Kelli only briefly but Lea Ann has been for 20 years. You deserve medals. Truly. And working parents, God bless you. Bonus points if your children know what any of the appliances in the kitchen are for besides the microwave. If I were a working mom my children would survive on chicken nuggets and peanut butter sandwiches alone. Oh wait...they do anyway. Crap.

My hat's off to you.

Buy Her A Box of Raisins

My dear friend sent me a text this morning describing the dramatic if not slightly suggestive rendition of Taylor Swift's “Never Ever Getting Back Together,” that her not quite two year old daughter gave this morning. It made me laugh hard and reminded me of something funny that happened when Connor was about the same age. My friend has three wonderfully sweet children but this last one...she is a firecracker.

When Connor was about a year old his, shall we say, personality started to really come out. We were in Mississippi visiting Chris's family and he had a particularly messy fit in front of Chris's aunt. “Oh, Chris!! You should buy him some raisins,” she said. Or at least that is what I heard. Hmm. That one was confusing to me but in my still newish mom stupor I forgot about it and moved on. You see, ever since I met Chris I have been schooled on all kinds of new southern sayings and colloquialisms that I have never been exposed to so I assumed his aunt telling him to buy Connor some raisins was one of those. Mississippi people have a whole list of these sayings. One of them comes out of someones mouth, everyone in the room laughs and I just look around confused. I never ask what it means. I don't want to look stupid and I usually pick up on it at some point.

I try not to get drunker than Cooter Brown. When someone asks me how much I like something I tell them how much I have left until I am finished. And I certainly don't want my children to be spolt. If you are confused about any of this, ask someone from Mississippi. :)

Anyway, a few months later Connor pulled another doozie in front of Chris's family and his mother said, “Ooooooh Chris, this one will pay for his raisins.” Hmmm....there is that one again. What on earth does that mean?!?!? I racked my brain. Are they saying he likes to eat? Do they think he will grow up to be bad with money and pay too much for things that should be cheap? Is there some magical behavior managing properties in raisins that I don't know about? I could not figure it out but again I chalked it up to a Mississippism that I just didn't understand.

When Connor was two years old we had the Bass family at our house around Christmas time. Naturally, Connor was on his worst behavior and started throwing a fit about a toy that was not doing what he wanted it to. Again my mother-in-law, “Oooooh honey. This boy is going to make you pay for your raisin!” OK! What the hell does that mean?!?!?!

That night, alone in our room, I finally broke down and asked Chris. “Why does everyone in your family keep saying that Connor will buy raisins?!” Chris looked at me like I had a tree limb growing out of my head. “What are you talking about?” I relayed the instances to him and he chuckled. “Pay for your raising. They are saying that I will pay for my raising. Like, Connor is my payback child for all the trouble I caused my parents.” Ooooooooohhhhhhhhh. Well yes. That makes total sense!!

So dear friend of mine – that third child of yours – you better buy her a box of raisins!!!!

The Biggest Danger On Our Roads

You have all seen it.  The suburban in front of you is cruising down the highway at 75 mph when all of the sudden it swerves to the right and you brace yourself for the piece of debris they are trying to avoid to come flying at your windshield.  Seconds pass. No flying tires. There was no road hazard. It is just a mom who had to turn around for a brief second to see if the blood curdling screams coming from the back seat was her toddler being murdered or if he just dropped his snippy cup.  Those family stickers with the stair step stick figure drawings are actually warning labels. They secretly read, "stay back 50 feet. I am driving with toddlers."

I'm guilty of it. I have to admit. Driving with small children in your car should really require some kind of special certification or training class.  It is quite difficult to navigate the roads when toys are being lobbed at you and someone is kicking you in the side of the head.  Oh and the yelling and demands...

"Mommy, turn up the volume!"

"Mommy, my cuuuuuuuupppppppp!"

"Mommy, he's trying to bite me!"

"Mommy, he bit me!"

"Mommy, I'm taking off my shoes."

"Mommy, I need to go teetee right now!"

"Mommy, I see McDonalds can we go there please please please!?!?"

It is a miracle that I don't crash my car everyday.  Driving with toddlers brings multitasking to a whole new level.  Who else besides a mom can drive with her knees, eat a sandwich, blindly find a water bottle on the floor board behind her and keep the two small humans in the backseat from maiming each other?  Am I right?

Shoes: Can You Really Put a Price on Perfection?

I love shoes. I mean I LOVE shoes. They have been a constant in my life. Bad mood? Put on a nice pair of shoes and it is an instant pick me up. Gain too much weight to wear my favorite dress? At least I can still wear nice shoes. Skin look like a pepperoni pizza? Shoes!! They never fail me. They are art. For me, walking through the shoe department at Nordstrom is tantamount to a stroll through the Guggenheim.

Since my first pair of high heels I have had a serious problem. In junior high I would have sold my soul to the devil for a pair of Doc Martens to wear to school. In high school I am pretty sure I kept The Wild Pair in business. I strayed a little in college and went flip flop crazy. Blame all those hippies in Austin. Graduating and getting my first job fueled the fire. I am certain that at age 22 I had more value in shoes that what was in my bank account. My name is Kristy and I am a shoeaholic.

In another life I would have been a shoe designer. I have tried on thousands of pairs of shoes and have been looking for the perfect pair for probably 20 years. If the heel is too low you will look like a librarian. Too high, a hooker. The angle of your foot has to be just right in order to walk in them for an extended period of time. The heel height to foot angle ratio is assisted by the placement of a platform but there is a fine line between leg lengthening platform and stripper pole platform. If the shoe makes you arch you back, you are a goner. The shoe must be made of real leather. Synthetics will rub your skin off. We are talking childbirth pain levels. I'm telling you, shoe making is one of the greatest art and science combinations that ever existed.

I have had several pairs that came close to perfect over the years but this weekend I found the HOLY GRAIL of shoes. It fits perfectly, is a timeless style and makes my legs look the best they ever have. It is the best shoe I have ever worn. The problem is that it is also the most expensive shoe I have ever worn.

Hmm...according to the husband I should not be spending so much money on shoes. After all I don't “go to work” anymore and “don't wear high heels very often” Hogwash I say!! When you find the Holy Grail of shoes do you just admire them and leave them on the shelf for someone else to discover?! Heck no!! You buy those puppies even if it means you don't get another pair of shoes for five years (um, yeah right...did I mention I have a shoe addiction!)

And he is wrong. I will wear them every day. Even with my yoga pants.

Family

This Saturday was my uncle Manuel's funeral.  He was my moms older brother and passed away two weeks ago.  He had liver and kidney problems and was certainly not old enough to die.  It has been very hard on my mom and has been difficult for me to see.  

The past few weeks I have been reflecting on many aspects of life; taking care of yourself, forgiveness, happiness, making good choices but mostly the importance of family.  I am fortunate to have great families on both sides but I have been thinking mostly about my moms side recently. My mom comes from a large family.  She has three brothers and a sister, aunts, uncles and cousins coming out her ears and so many family friends who are called aunt or uncle that sometimes the relation is not even clear.  This weekend I was able to see many of them.  When I was a child we visited San Antonio often and I saw my relatives regularly.  As we have all gotten older, the family visits are less and less frequent.  In fact, I saw some cousins this weekend that I had not seen in years.  It is unfortunate that we can only find the time to gather when someone has passed away.  Sadly, this is the reality of busier schedules, more commitments and lots and lots of people.

When I was younger I remember dreading the car trip to San Antonio and sleeping in my grandmothers uncomfortable bed next to my sister and having to take a bath in the creepy green bathtub (which is still in the house by the way).  But now I cherish those memories.  I remember my grandparents floral printed velvet couches and their giant wooden television that, gasp, did not have a remote control where I would watch wheel of fortune with my Grandpa.  I remember the creaky floorboards and not being able to reach the lock at the top of the bathroom door.  I remember drinking lots and lots of Big Red out of Solo cups.  I remember playing in the backyard while my grandmother was inside cooking and my Grandpa sat outside in a lawn chair sucking on lemons all afternoon.  I remember one cousin crashing through a plate glass door, one walking across hot coals, one pulling out all my grandmas jewelry and one eating an entire pound bag of M&M's. Nothing can replace those memories.

I pray that I can give those same kinds of memories to my children. I want them to know their family. I want them to remember how much they hated the nine hour drive to Mississippi and sleeping in the bunk beds at the lake and getting in trouble for throwing toys with their cousins.  I want them to know how important family is and that it cannot be replaced by anything. 

You Get What You Pay For

I love party poppers. How can you not love something that explodes with confetti and streamers?!  Last week I was at Michaels picking thru all the 80 percent off Chrismas items and came across a package of party poppers for $.99. Anyone who knows my husband knows his rule: if it costs $1 we buy it. It doesn't matter what it is. Clothing, toys, glogg... And don't get me started on the time we ate Christmas tree shaped pasta for six months because, "it only was five cents honey!!!"

$.99. I bought the poppers. I hyped the boys up. "It's going to be so cool," I told them. "Confetti and glitter will fly out and it will be like out own private party in the yard.!!!!"

So two very excited little boys went out into the hard ready to pull the strings on their super cool party poppers. Connor had the first one. 

"Oooookkkkk honey, here it comes!  It's going to be so exciting!  Ready?  One, two, three, PULL!!!!!"

No party flew out. I saw one black glob hit the grass a few feet away so I felt around until I found it. 

Nailclippers. 

Seriously?!  I just hyped my children up for nail clippers?  

Perhaps next year I will buy the full priced poppers. 

It's a pretty sad New Years when your kids are wrestling over a pair of nailclippers.