How do they do it?

How do these bloggers who religiously post do it and still have a functioning life?  I mean I have to admit, I'm somewhat constantly drafting a post in my head and am excited to have a few minutes to put something down, but between having a full time job that goes from nothing to crisis in a matter of minutes, to a full time mommy with a very intense 3 year old, a house, a husband, a side business, and don't forget the pleasure reading, blog surfing, and web shopping that one also must do...I mean how do you find time to post.

I've got to establish some good habits, as it is my goal to have a post every day ideally if not every other, that would only marginally be acceptable.  Right now, I just can't wait to get off work and go pick up my little man and snuggle and kiss and sniff him...yes, you read that right, sniff him.  I've had an obsession with smells since I was a child.  When I was little I had to have a blanket not for the feel and the security of the touch...but the smell.  The instant it stopped smelling like "home" which is the smell of Tide detergent and Bounce fabric softener, it had to be washed to refresh that smell.  Even now, if my husband comes home not smelling right I make him bathe and change!  He borrowed someone else's undershirt for work one day and not 1 minute after sitting next to him, I noticed the change in smell.  He even had the nerve to suggest that maybe we change it up, 'cause he liked the smell...I had a mini panic attack.

So even now, I ADORE smells...they are so sensual to me.  I love the way my husband smells, dirty or clean, like a man and his own smell on his skin. . .I LOVE how Roman smells too...this is kinda gross, but I even love how his slobber smells...he has a blankie, and it's for the tactile security, but I just love smelling that baby slobber on it.  And on my goodness, when he's been playing outside, the smell of boy and dirt and fresh air...there is NOTHING better!

It's the technicalities that really get ya....

Roman is obsessed with babies.  He is dying for a baby sister...and surprise, surprise, he wants to name her Spiderman.  I think it started when we were playing at our neighbor’s house and my friend, Tiffany, is expecting, but at the time wasn’t showing much.  Everyone had piled in her bed to wind down with a little Nick Jr and it was time for us to go.  He was crawling over her and I advised him to be careful because she had a baby in her belly.  He immediately wanted to investigate, and thus began our ever evolving conversation about babies and birds and bees.

I left well enough alone at the time and just told him that God made mommies where babies grow in our bellies...he seemed satisfied with that.  The next day he asked me if I had a baby in my belly, accompanied with lifting my shirt to investigate...No, there isn’t a baby in my belly...we went to lunch with Jasen and out of the blue he said “Mommy, Daddy, I want a baby sister.”  Um...Ok...Roman, you have my vote.  Jasen and I just looked at each other and giggled while Roman was oblivious to the shock factor of his statement.

One night this past week, I was letting Roman sleep with me...I was exhausted and it was easier than putting him in his own bed, yeah I know...I’m just making it harder for myself...anyway.  We were having some pillow talk as he was settling down for sleep and I was trying to read. 

“Mommy, I’m big aren’t I?”

to which I responded, “Yes you are!  You’re my big sweet boy!”. 

“Well, I want a baby in my belly.” 

“Roman, you what?” I asked

With complete seriousness, “I am big now and I want a baby in my belly.”  How was I to explain to my sweet little 3 year old boy that it just wasn’t going to happen??

“Well, Roman, honey, you’re a boy and boy’s can’t have babies in their bellies.  Only girls, who get married, can become mommies and have babies in their bellies.”  The look of shock and devastation that came over his face was just heart breaking. 

“But, Mommy, I WANT a baby in my belly, do YOU have a baby in YOUR belly?”  All of this is said with distress in his eyes and his voice.

“Well, when you’re married you get to help put the baby in your wife’s belly (yeah I know treading on thin ice here), and you get to feel the baby and see the baby...but it’s in HER belly, and you’ll be the daddy!  And I don’t have a baby in my belly right now, but one day soon, when I do, you will get to feel the baby and see it too.  We’ll have to talk to Daddy about getting a baby (heh heh heh).”

At this point I have tears in my eyes having to deliver this news to my little boy that he will never be a mommy. 

I must not have been convincing about personally not being with child, because he then proceeded to pull back the covers and lift my shirt to investigate my stomach for himself.  I repeated that there was no baby in there...He seemed somewhat satisfied.

He asked a couple more questions about babies, and then proclaimed, “Well, Mommy...I AM married”...laughing I said, “Oh, you are...to who?”  With the tone that indicated I totally didn’t see the big picture at all, “To youuuu, Mommy” Thinking he had just gotten around all the technicalities of being married, him not being able to have the baby, wanting a baby sister, I was the one who could have the baby...voila...we’re married, poof I now have a baby....DA TA, as he would say.  Once again, reality dealt a disappointing blow to such a little one... “Honey, we can’t be married, I’m your Mommy and I’m married to Daddy.”..... “Oh....”

He quieted down, though his wheels were still turning, and finally drifted off to sleep.  He never ceases to amaze me.  We still have to work Daddy into this conversation about the baby sister....

Why a Blog and Why Now?

Well...I’m really not much of a follower, in fact, I’m more of a rebeller against the popular, however....I have this book inside me.  Which now that it’s put out there like that it totally conjures images of this little tiny book embryo tucked away in my mental womb...I digress.  I really love to write and to read and have had a lot of interesting and dramatic experiences, as well as some that aren’t so much that are begging to be written about and not just shared in a snippet on face book or in conversation with a friend or even just horded away in my memory.  I also want to stretch my writers legs, and I know I’m not going to do it hand writing in a journal, nor am I going to keep some obscure file on my computer and journal away...I need some accountability and some sort of deadline...thus the blog. 

Not to mention, I’m interested to see if anyone will read what I have to say.  I mean...I religiously follow some blogs, but I mean...they are for crafting or for couponing (yeah we’ll talk about that later) and let’s face it...if they go off on some random diatribe that I don’t care about I navigate away.  So I’m kinda planning to see if I can get followers by word of mouth and other than one or two people...not say anything about my blog for a while...we’ll see how long that works.

So in setting some ground rules so you know what to expect, oh one single follower (thanks Tara), I LURVE stream of consciousness writing, which I affectionately call brain vomit.  You will be seeing lots of it here, though I promise to make it interesting and as non icky as possible.  My degree is in English but I can’t spell to save my life so I won’t judge you, you don’t judge me, but I will spell check as often as I remember!  Also this means that I’m VERY verbose, use big words, and have massive sentences with elaborate punctuation...it’s kinda like jewelry, sue me.  Sometimes my posts will be things that have happened in the past that I need to get on record and some things will be current. 

I’m really excited. . .Ultimately you are wondering what this will be about..... It’s about my journey...I started out running away from being a small town Southern girl to embracing it now that I’m older...I can’t wait to see how it turns out!

XOXO