Wednesday, February 22, 2012

They DO Exist!

It's a bird?! It's a plane?! No, actually it resembles something along the lines of...Big Foot! And "it" is me! That's right. I'm talking about my appearance. That once beautiful pregnant glow has faded into the unsightly image of sleep deprived, rarely showered, at-the-end-of-her-rope, new mama! It has been 4 days and counting since I basked in the world's fastest shower. Without another adult and 4 kids plus one demanding baby, showers have become a sprint! Things don't really get washed as much as it's an attempt at a less-than-thorough rinse to make myself feel better. It's been so long since I've properly applied makeup that I may have forgotten how to do it. And much to my chagrin, my hair has become much more "wash and wear" than I would like.

Have I ever mentioned that I'm not much of a natural girl?? Beauty, at least on my behalf, must be worked for...plucking, coloring, depillatating (not quite sure if that is a word...but in my overly sleep deprived brain it actually makes complete sense!), exfoliating, primping, blow drying, straightening, applying. You get the idea. I'm most assuredly a work in progress. "Beauty is skin deep" my a**! Looking good takes time and work...and lately time elludes me, and I'm too tired to apply the work necessary to show my face in public. The four walls of my house have become my prison...I mean my sactuary!

If anyone has the delusional idea that staying at home with your minion- um children- is glamorous...they should peak in my windows (actually...please don't do that.) Some days I can be found at 3pm still in my pj's from the night before...which were actually the outfit from the day before! Gross? Nope...just being energy efficient and cutting down on laundry. Let's use that reasoning for my recent tendency to avoid bathing: I'm just being environmentally conscious! My house is disheveled, my appearance is scary, and my once desperate attempt to control my portion of the world has flown out the window.

I'd cry for calgon to take me away, but we all know I'm not going to have time to sit in that bath anyway. So until I actually figure out how to duplicate myself, afford a nanny and/or housekeeper, or hell finally freezes over...I'm going to continue to scare the neighborhood children with my saskwatch resemblance!

Saturday, February 4, 2012

Can't Buy Me Love

I'd like to say that I can't be bought...but it turns out that I can! Actually I kind of have a sneaky suspicion that my loving hubby already knows that little tid-bit, but I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume that he is not "in the know" on this deep, dark, little secret. After all, gifts should be given without any expectation for "payment" in return, right?

Let me back track momentarily and explain to you that laundry (as mentioned numerous times prior) is an on-going to which I never, ever win! I'm constantly behind in that particular chore. Now one might say that our family is reaching the point at which it could be classified as "large". And with a growing, busy family comes piles, mounds, and heaps of dirty, smelly laundry. And baby has added to the laundry-quandary that has befallen my home (truthfully, how does something so cute and tiny make SO MUCH LAUNDRY?).

Even though my laundry (and family) continues to increase and washer and dryer have not. They're really designed for a much smaller family...of 2 or 3 maybe! They've been repaired several times, and even though they were trying their hardest, they were not able to keep up with my multiplying minion! Hoodies and jeans could only be washed at a maximum of three at a time. Towels were maxed at 4 or 5. And bedding would take an entire weekend...and STILL not all of the beds would be serviced! was time. Out with the old and in with the new! I am now the proud mama of a shiny pair of blue Samsung, front-loading, energy-efficient washer and dryer. It kind of turned me on, quite honestly (my hubby's gone for a year, cut me some slack!). Hubby set it up with another soldier back home who hooked me up. I would have kissed him...but that would have been all kinds of inappropriate. I left it at a "thank you"..the kisses (and then some *wink *wink) may have to be saved for hubby when he returns.

Oh yeah...I can totally be bought!

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Baby Got Back

I'm a firm believer that every woman should love and embrace her matter what the size or shape. Curves are the new black and sexy as...well, a 50's pin-up girl. Sexy, beautiful, and worthy of a bootie shake...except when I see them in MY mirror; that's when I no longer "feel the love tonight"! I like my boyish, athletic frame. It's a straight line from my shoulders to my ankles...and I like it like that. However, the baby bump that was once so cute is now lacking in its appeal. And I'm not sure who's backside keeps following me around, but it has got to go! The blue moon that's risin' scares the hell out of me, quite frankly! And what on earth happened to my thighs?! My sexy thigh-high boots aren't nearly as sexy when it looks like my thigh is going to eat them!

I know that the Kardashian/J.Lo booties are worthy of coveting thy neighbors "assets", but I prefer to be a lean, mean, fighten' machine (it might only be Laila Ali in my head, but leave me's  my delusion; let me have it!) I brag about push ups and pull ups and would accept most physical challenges. But my post-baby body is letting me down. The only exercise I'm getting is walking new babe around the house trying to get him to just...stop...crying! Carrying the over loaded baskets of laundry up and down the stairs leaves me winded. And on the rare occasion that I actually find myself laying horizontally on my back, I struggle to sit up or roll over without assistance thanks to my no-longer-existent abdominals.

All of that can and will be corrected once I am able to consistently work out again. But what bothers me now is the idea of hubby returning from war to a curvier, more voluptuous wife before I have time to get back into shape. I fear I may scare him back to the war zone! I pray that my hubby embraces "some cushion for the pushin'", but quite honestly I'm afraid I may hurt him. He's not used to handling so much woman!

My plan is to "trick the eye" with Spanx, cinchers, and layers...but what happens when we start removing "the ties that bind"?! I'm not ok with the jiggle or the cushion quite frankly. And let's be completely honest, my curves don't exactly resemble those of a Kardashian...the boobs are not for touching or even being unharnessed (those babies are loaded!), the bootie is about double what I would prefer, the thighs jiggle in a very unflattering way, and the tummy- well it just housed a 9 pound baby! Let's not forget the trauma that just occurred to my girly parts! She's still scared to death to have any visitors!

I hate to break it to my hubby...but I'd say this body is off limits for a good 8-9 months.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

The Devil Wears...Spandex?

Being a mama is tough; being a single mama, even if only for a year, is even tougher. However, I'm not usually one to admit defeat...or even accept it. But lately, with the addition to our family, I've started to doubt my "everywoman" status (you know..."Everyman"? the play about how you need to live to save your soul? Come on peeps! Get with the literary program.) Anycrazyplay, back to my delusional I-can-do-all-manage-all-handle-all mental state. What I once thought I could conquer is now my daily Everest, and it never goes away or gets any better. Clothes...always dirty; dishes...always needing emptying and reloading into the dishwasher; house...constantly in disarray; mommy...never showered, shaved or properly groomed! I'm sleep deprived, malnourished and on the brink of a mental breakdown!

Apparently, without my consent or knowledge, I was dethroned...about 5 weeks ago. My ruler is now 23 inches long, 11 lbs 14 oz, blonde hair, blue eyes and a dictator of the boobies. Milk must be constantly on tap and at his disposal...24/7! Not only are my breasts being held hostage (you DO remember what happens to the boobs once baby has staked his claim, right?), but my nether regions may never, ever recover from the natural disaster that blasted through them. Like Hurricane Katrina, that 9 pound bowling ball that came rolling out of my vagina blasted through and destroyed everything in its path. My hubby's favorite playground may be out of commission far longer than he would like! And my post-baby body (which my children so lovingly informed me looks like "another baby is going to come out"...seriously!?! I wasn't even in real underwear yet when they "complimented" my curves!) leaves me frustrated, annoyed, and ready to cry at the drop of a hat.

My older children have learned, unfortunately, that a sleep-deprived, malnourished (baby doesn't like ANYTHING that I eat...I've resorted to bread and water), hasn't had sex in 8 1/2 months (honestly, I'm totally ok not having sex while preggo but I AM starting to think that the possibility of my hymen growing back is highly likely), never gets to have a hot, regular shower mama...isn't one with whom you should mess, irritate, or disturb if eyes are closed!

Generally, I would say the devil wears Prada..or at least a red dress. But in our appears the devil wears size large yoga pants, granny panties, and a big, baggy t-shirt, void of makeup or groomed hair...and answers in a growl to the word "mom"!