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Two P’s in a Poop

I got suckered in. That is how it happened.

I’m sure the same has happened to you as you scroll through your newsfeed on Facebook and some silly post catches your eye. For me, it was – – type your name into Google with “is a” after it and see what comes up. Clearly I was avoiding working and jumped right on this humor train. Typing it in, I dreamt up all the cool possibilities, Jessica is a Rockstar, Firecracker, Comedian, maybe even a Genius…but nope, I got, Jessica is a poop. Too bad the search terms weren’t “is the” instead of “is a” but some day I will be the poop, it is a dream I will keep striving for.

Somewhere it amused me just enough to recruit my house husband to do the same and see what the google gods would spit out. Matthew is a poopyhead, is what we got. Jessica is a poop, and Matthew is a poopy head.

“Of course you would be the head poop, because you are so bossy” I say to him as I am flicking him – well poop. Then it hits me “We are two P’s in a poop, you know like two peas in a pod, but poop, oh my goodness there is two p’s in poop – get it?” At this point I am dying laughing, and he is laughing solely because I have obviously cracked myself up – and every time I say something funny, I follow it up with, “get it?” to which he always replies – “Yes, I got it!” Ah, this man gets me every time.

Goofiness is next godliness, it far surpasses cleanliness – trust me. Although, there was that one time they all collided at once.

Early one morning, I thought I’d slip into the shower and surprise Mr. Poopyhead, I just didn’t realize the kind of slipping that would be involved. At the time I slipped in, he was fully soaped up, and as soon as he turned, and saw me, he slipped and slid trying to maintain balance, which at that moment was none at all, and before I knew it, he was on his back half in and half out of the shower – with a look of humiliation and “why would you do that” all over his face. I DID NOT LAUGH, but I wanted to, so badly. Reaching for a place to grab to help him up was tricky, but we did manage it. After he dried off, he says to me “I bet that would of been funny to watch” and I erupted with the laughter I had held in. He quickly followed with “I’m guessing this will be on your page later, huh?” And, I fell in love with him a little more.

image

When you like someone, it’s cool, but when you like and love someone – its far better. His bad days are my bad days, and vice versa. When he wakes up cranky, I’m not above dancing naked and being a goofball to make him laugh. Or waiting until he gets all dried off from a shower to spray him with the shower hose, or after he washes all the soap off – to either rub my soapiness on him, or just squirt the bottle of soap all over his back. One thing I don’t do is sneak into the shower anymore. In fact, I loudly announce now that I am joining him, and to stop soaping up!!

We have fun, we laugh, we enjoy each other, and if I had to choose who to be two P’s in a poop with, its him, hands down every time.

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Being a Mom

Being a mom means more than having given birth to a child. Its loving and knowing a soul before you even see it. It’s carrying, and caring for a life completely depending on you for survival. It’s giving air to the lungs that grew with-in you, and sight to the eyes that will never see you as anything but mommy. Its sleepless nights, its nursing scratches and scrapes, its being stern and protective. It’s teaching them to talk, to walk and to eventually run. It’s learning to hand your child to a stranger to let them teach what you cannot at times. It’s bracing them for a fall, and dusting them off after they do. It’s seeing them cry, and not knowing how to fix it, so you sit on the floor and hold them and cry right along beside them.  It’s teaching them, that they are smart, capable, funny and giving them the security to do great things. Its building their self-esteem, supporting their dreams and loving them unconditionally. Its letting them go, letting them fail, and teaching them how to get back up. It’s going without, so that they don’t have to, and being okay with it.

awesome

Being a Mother, is a gift that is unimaginable to any woman who does not have a child in their life. It’s a connection that is unmatched and insurmountable in any form or other relationship.  It’s a love that grows continually, a love that always wants more and better. It’s being terrified that you can’t prevent pain, injustice, heartbreak, and at times even death.  It’s laughing at jokes that aren’t even funny, but the way they say it,makes its hilarious. Its listening to stories, that go on and on without a point. It’s always being available for the “mommy watch ME’s” and “mommy I need you”.  It’s drowning out the word MOM repeated over and over, in attempts to get your attention. Its songs sang out of tune, and settling squabbles with siblings. It’s being mean, and teaching hard lessons, that hurt you inside so deep you want to cry, but you must stand strong with resolve. It’s being strong for them, when you are weak. It’s smiling when you want to cry, and crying when you’re smiling with pride.

It’s looking through photographs and feeling your heart swell with love and happiness when you see the beauty, the happiness and life in your child’s smile and eyes.  Its confusion, mistakes, uncharted territory and blind folded guessing. It’s snuggling on the couch watching a movie, braiding hair till your fingers hurt, it’s being woken up early on Saturday morning because they want to crawl in bed and be close to your heart. It’s having the worst day, and having them hug you and tell you ”mommy I love you”, and needing nothing more.

It’s a blessing, a gift, a relationship that never ends, and a love that never dies. It’s the best thing I have ever become, the greatest love I have ever felt and the best part about being me.

I resolve to always change the bulb from here on out

bulbAnd he rubbed my back, he really did… Of course this an odd place to start and what might seem like something so insignificant that it shouldn’t be worth mentioning. However, you couldn’t be further off the beaten path. Truth is, before this, before the Love Dare – he hated rubbing my back. Okay he probably does still, but you know what I am saying. Prior he made excuses like ” my fingers hurt” or the wonderful Oscar winning performance where his hand slowly stops because he pretended he had fallen asleep; made me quit asking. It happens at your home too, I bet.

Now, don’t get me wrong, doing the Love Dare isn’t so you can get your spouse to do the dishes, or rub your back, but when things are better – we ALL tend to act and love each other better.

My husband and I both like playing cribbage, and we have the app on our phones. We used to get into bed, and play against each other, best out three all the time. However letting life, kids, fighting, schedules and whatever else get in the way, we stopped playing both the game and with each other. The Love Dare forces you to re-evaluate, to get involved, to remember to interact with your spouse. The night before last, I challenged my husband with a best out of three cribbage battle. He of course, as many men would, accepted the challenge. If we won, we got whatever we asked for – I chose a neck massage. He never verbalized his choice. Which come to think of it now – was odd. I figured it would be something in the unmentionable region – but I just let his silence lead the way.

Game two, I was in the lead, in fact, I almost skunked him even, but by one point, I lost. Game two, neck and neck, and again within a few points, I lost. Oh man, there goes that opportunity – not only did I lose to the “master of cribbage”, but the elusive neck massage would slip through his grasp and my relaxation yet again. However, this time that didn’t bother me like before.  None of that really mattered, because we had fun, we laughed, we competed and we spent time one on one. After placing our phones on their chargers, I rolled over and placed my head on his chest, feeling at peace, relaxed, and happy. And then it happened…

He started rubbing my neck, then my back – all on his own, without my saying anything. Within minutes I was sound asleep like a little baby – hopefully minus the drooling! It was by far the best night of sleep I have had in months. To him, it probably wasn’t anything major – to me, it meant the WORLD. He did something he really just flat out doesn’t like, to make me happy.  I thought he forgot how to do that, or  that we as a couple had forgot the importance of doing things for the ones we love. But, the truth is that when we take care of our spouse, in every way, they do want to, and most often will, return the kind gestures that aren’t an expectation.

I am sure there are many men who do this for their spouses all the time, and it isn’t this monumental accomplishment, however it should be. We need to remember our spouses chose to be with us, and its a choice to keep the romance, the little things we hate to do, the friendship and love alive. We forget to thank them, to acknowledge them – to love them in the ways we did in the beginning.

Little by little – we are falling in love again, reconnecting and recommitting to this life long process of give and take, expectations, sometimes heart break and disappointment – all which are parts of marriage that after the storm, create a closeness that couldn’t have been achieved without the trials and tribulations in the first place. It is a great feeling – to feel great. Its a loving feeling to love and be loved in return. We are all constantly learning and growing, what a great experience it is – to choose to do that together.

When was the last time you truly showed your spouse – they are special, appreciated and loved by you?

 

This time of Year – all breaks loose.

For the past three years there is about a month every year that just sucks. I say sucks because it is impossible to breakdown the details of all that exactly goes wrong, the pain that is felt, the anger, the love, the loss, just the everything is drastically off kilter or upside down.

Today is November 4th – and to you that may mean nothing, and to me for 29 of my 32 years is meant nothing as well.

Any that read this blog are very aware I have no connection, relationship or love for that matter for my parents. My father is passed- and oddly enough I couldn’t tell you what day that was, which makes you wonder how it is I know the day my husbands father, that I never met, did. Maybe its because the story of his family is something I dreamed of having growing up – maybe I am jealous of it, or maybe its all that and the fact that he is easy to remember, in that although passed, he is still here.

His picture stills sits on my husbands dresser, smiling with dark brown hair, wearing a blue collared shirt, and eyes that when he smiles his forehead all but disappears. Last year I wrote a tribute but this year I just want to share a couple things I feel like Donald has been present for and how life stands still for a month of hell in a sense – to provide a tiny flower through a crack in the pavement.

Last Christmas, my husband and I were watching Courageous (life altering movie) a movie about a fathers relationship with his children. A box of tissue and two puffy eyes later – I looked to my husband, who I could tell was moved by the story. We went home, and as I was taking my shoes off, he came out of the bedroom holding a frame, and said “Don’t take of your shoes.” Then he held up the frame, which was a family portrait of ours ans asked if he could have the photo out of it. Somehow, I knew what he was doing, I can’t explain how – but I knew this was a pretty big deal, so I responded with “You can have that one, just leave it in the frame.” He questioned me a little, but then happily said “Okay, lets go”.  Driving through town, we end up at Wal-Mart its about midnight, and he heads to the flashlights. My suspicions are confirmed even more, and yet I stay quiet and keep them to myself.

 

Driving through the winding country back roads, we pull into a little gravel drive in, that leads to a closed metal gate. Behind the gate are headstones, having never been here, I knew his father must be here. Still afraid to speak, still in shock – because my husband hasn’t been here since the service ten years before, I just follow him. We walk through the gate, and I am not gonna lie and say I wasn’t completely creeped out of my mind, midnight – graves, animal noises – I was terrified!! However, I maintained composure for the most part – seconds later I met my husbands father. We cleaned up around his site, and my husband placed our family portrait beside the headstone – I’m not sure what he was thinking in that moment or feeling but I know it was pretty intense since we were there. We didn’t stay for long, but we didn’t need to.  That night brought me closer to my husband, it brought my husband closer to his father and a moment that could never be replaced between the three of us.

 

Around this time every year my husband and I get into this end all – battle. Its hurtful, its difficult and we always come out of it stronger than before – I know subconsciously its fueled by today. What I don’t know, is how I become fueled by it as well. These past couple months have been hell for me, life has taken its toll, stress at an all time high, and most recently – my husbands family is faced again with heartache around this day.

My husbands grandmother, the mother of his father, is currently in ICU. Today is day 9 of being in a medically induced sleep, in efforts to allow her body to heal. Following blood clots, to almost loving a leg, to almost losing her life – she is holding strong. Yesterday, we sat with her for about six hours. My husband had a hard time with it, because he hates hospitals – but for about a half hour, she and I were alone. We aren’t extremely close, but I love her easily because she is funny, outspoken, not afraid to be crass or un-ladylike and takes nobody’s crap – she is strong. Arching her eyebrows, she stirred some and her eyes opened. Slipping my hand into hers, I spoke to her, feeling so uncomfortable, not knowing what to say, and almost wishing she wouldn’t waist her time in waking up on me – I wanted her to see someone more important to her when she first woke up. Although her eyelids were open here and there, I could see she didn’t “see” anything, so I sucked it up and just talked with her.  She squeezed my hand when I asked if she could, and I just let her know I was there, she wasn’t alone and that we all are ready for her to come back to us. Standing there making jokes, like squeeze my hand if you think Matt (my husband) is a pain in the @$$ – or him asking her if she thought he was funny – I couldn’t help but feel Donald in the room – or hoping maybe they were having a visit while she dreams.

Truth is, she is the families matriarch – she is the stone pillar that her husband clings too – this family would be destroyed to lose her. Today, on the day the family I married into, watched a loved one close their eyes, I pray to god, today she decides to opens hers. She will eventually, but what a blessing it would be, for it to mark November 4th in a different way.

See you next blog!

Being a Mom

Being a mom means more than having given birth to a child. Its loving and knowing a soul before you even see it. It’s carrying, and caring for a life completely depending on you for survival. It’s giving air to the lungs that grew with-in you, and sight to the eyes that will never see you as anything but mommy. Its sleepless nights, its nursing scratches and scrapes, its being stern and protective. It’s teaching them to talk, to walk and eventually run. It’s learning to hand your child to a stranger to let them teach what you cannot. It’s bracing them for a fall, and dusting them off after they do. It’s seeing them cry, and not knowing how to fix it, so you sit on the floor and hold them and cry right along beside them.  It’s teaching them, that they are smart, capable, funny and giving them the security to do great things. Its building their self-esteem, supporting their dreams and loving them unconditionally. Its letting them go, letting them fail, and teaching them how to get back up. It’s going without, so that they don’t have to, and being okay with it.

 

Being a Mother, is a gift that is unimaginable to any woman who does not have a child. It’s a connection that is unmatched and insurmountable in any form, fashion or other relationship.  It’s a love that grows continually, a love that always wants more and better. It’s being terrified that you can’t prevent pain, injustice, heartbreak, and at times even death.  It’s laughing at jokes that aren’t even funny, but the way they say it is. Its listening to stories, that go on and on without a point. It’s always being available for the “mommy watch ME’s” and “mommy I need you”.  It’s drowning out the word MOM repeated over and over, in attempts to get your attention. Its songs sang out of tune, and settling squabbles with siblings. It’s being mean, and teaching hard lessons, that hurt you inside so deep you want to cry, but you can’t. It’s being strong for them, when you are weak. It’s smiling when you want to cry, and crying when you’re smiling with pride.

 

It’s looking through photographs and feeling your heart swell with love and happiness when you see the beauty, the happiness and life in your child’s smile and eyes.  Its confusion, mistakes, uncharted territory and blind folded guessing. It’s snuggling on the couch watching a movie, braiding hair till your fingers hurt, it’s being woken up early on Saturday morning because they want to crawl in bed and be close to your heart. It’s having the worst day, and having them hug you and tell you ”mommy I love you”, and needing nothing more.

 

It’s a blessing, a gift, a relationship that never ends, and a love that never dies. It’s the best thing I have ever become, the greatest love I have ever felt and the best part about being me.

 

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