Kentucky Mom to Twins and More

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Happy birthday to that guy...

So about 16 years ago I met this guy. He was basically the exact opposite of me - very introverted, reserved, very common sensical. He was so shy and I could hardly get him to talk. Such a challenge for me! But he was so cute. He was tan, had dirty blonde hair, was left-handed and had one blue eye and one green eye (he would later tell me - and remind me frequently - that only one in 8 million people have two different eye colors).
To make a long, complicated story very short - I married that cute guy several years back and we have four kids now.  

Today is his birthday, and so I spent the only spare three minutes I had this morning wondering how I got so lucky to find such a great guy to spend my life with and to call my husband.
There are many things about that guy that annoy me to death, but the list of things I love and cherish about him could go on forever. Off the top of my head...
Silly blue-eyed/green-eyed boy

* I love that no matter how 'neat' or clean I think I am, he is always just a little bit cleaner than me (his bath towels are always hung straight and perfect above mine on the floor).

* I love that he makes lists and household budgets and diagrams in this scratchy, childish, lefty writing -- and that he is more organized than any company or military leader (god forbid I pencil in an item on the grocery list that doesn't belong next to the dairy items!)

* I love that he lets me sleep in a few extra minutes Sunday morning while he gets pancakes cooking for four hungry, loud children.

* I love that he gets angry at me for packing my vacation suitcases like the Tasmanian Devil, and his are tightly packed and rolled to perfection -- and zip completely.

* I love that he can drive a boat -- probably even blindfolded.

* I love that he cares so much about the people he works with and treats them like they are family.

* I love that even though he is the president of a company and is all business at work, he can act like a silly, stupid puppet for me or the kids when he's home.

* I love that he's determined to find a solution to any problem he has at work or at home -- even during rough times in this marriage. He never gives up.

* I love that despite being a kidney transplant recipient on countless meds, he is determined to live a healthy, active life without boundaries.

* I love that he sings Itsy Bitsy Spider to the girls at night and they beg for him to scratch their backs before falling asleep.

* I love that his favorite thing to do is watch football with our son and loves reading him books before bed.

* I love that even though he always has the TV turned to those 'bang-em-up-shoot-em-up' movies, that it's not really twisting his arm to watch Steel Magnolias either.

* I love that he believes I can follow my dream to write books someday - it's his opinion I value and trust the most in life and he pushes me to think I can, too.

* I love that he loves my ice cold feet under the covers.

* I love that I'm the first one who gets to see him in the morning and the one who gets to sleep by his side at night.

I'm glad he's my challenge for the rest of my life! I couldn't dream up a more perfect person to be with.

Happy Birthday my dear Matthew, you are truly one in 8 million (at least). The kids and I are blessed to have you in our lives!



Friday, January 3, 2014

Hello to 2014

Each New Year people talk about all the things they want to do to better themselves. Some people make lists of life goals they hope to check off this year. Am I a horrible person for not making any resolutions?

Unless "stop saying shut up" or swearing under my breath in front of the kids can be valid resolutions for a grown woman? I know (you all know) I yell too much, I'm a little OCD and uptight and I may-- just a little-- get freaked out when the kids have peanut butter on their faces or powdered donut on their fingers. I worry too much about cleaning up, I get a little nuts if the kids don't have matching clothes or if their hair isn't brushed, I've got a short temper and I'm overall kind of a "glass half empty" kind of person. People tell me all the time how to 'better' myself: "pray more," "do yoga," "take meds," "let go"... I wish I could make it that easy, but I can't just switch off the switch that makes me, ME. I am not saying I'm giving up, but I'm just exhausted thinking about a change. I suppose it's easier this way.

My four little reasons for change.
I do get inspired reading other people's hopes and dreams, maybe sometimes jealous too, wishing I could have the same pure, happy and anxious heart and great expectations for who I want to 'be' this year. Each year I tell myself how badly I'd love to get back into playing the piano because, despite lessons for six years growing up, I'm not sure if I remember how to read notes. Each year I vow to get a manuscript done and sent off somewhere. I think maybe this will be the year I could have really great legs and a kickass butt -- if only I run more.
Maybe I could have a lovely complexion like Charlize Theron (who is the same age as me but looks 20 years younger than me by the way). But somewhere between my discovery of lowfat desserts on Pinterest and my vow to do the fitness magazine's 'butt blasting' workout every day is when I realize after all these years that I just may never change. Maybe some people just can't 'change.'

I'm happy that I have a husband who loves me (and stays!) despite all my failings, and somehow God blessed me with four beautiful, healthy perfect children (that I don't deserve). I look at them and I do want to be better, be happier, be healthier. I don't want to have regrets later in life that I wasn't the best mother and wife that I could be. I've got too much room for improvement. I also know that it doesn't have to take a brand new Jan. 1 to start. That no matter the date, each morning I wake up could be my fresh start. It could be the day I push myself to stick to something good -- maybe not eating a package of chocolate pretzels in one hour (oops) --- maybe letting the kids look disheveled and not freaking out when they spill chocolate milk on the table, or letting the vacuuming go for a day (ok, ok let's not get too crazy here)...

I don't know how far I'll get. It might take me a week, a month -- or who are we kidding -- probably til next Jan. 1. Where are the chocolate pretzels?