I am a SAHM. I should get used to it.

I am a working mom—yet find myself home nearly every day with my kids.  And it’s glorious but not glamorous.

I had a lot of fun one day documenting segments of my day with my kids.

Here is my glorious but definitely not glamorous life.

Get popcorn!

Xob

What you do for your children’s critters!

Is Cami finally happy 😉 ?  Nah.

Two kittens found their way into our basement.  The kids were thrilled!

Seriously—my bald baby has no idea how disgustingly dirty our basement floor actually is.  Gag!

If I wasn’t already the overly tired nearly 40 yr old mother of toddlers—I would have more energy for this 😉

Yes…to reiterate—I am wearing clothes.  Just meant I couldn’t head outside because was too chilly for my basketball shorts, tank top, and flip flops 😉

I actually filmed so many more but they refused to download.  Perhaps it was an electronic rebellion,eh?!

God bless—and kiss those crazy babies.  Glamorous or glorious—all moments are treasures.

Xo b

I am a consumer. And I like it.

I am a consumer.  And I like it.

Let me tell you why.

You see, I am a consumer of many things.  One, airline tickets.  We live in a foreign country, and we live in a day and age where we don’t have to take only boat and train.  We can fly.  And, therefore, to get where I am, I fly.

I am a consumer of medicine.  My son, very unfortunately, is one of “those” kids.  One of those kids that needs a bag of medical supplies when I even travel to the grocery store.  Gotta have emergency meds on hand at all times.  Gotta take daily meds without fail.  And gotta.  Just gotta do it.  No essential oils will heal this little man.  So we appreciate the consumption of medicine.

I am a consumer of diapers.  God bless throwaway diapers.  I live in a place that sells them.  I, precious people that use cloth diapers oh how I admire you, but I love taking off a diaper and throwing it away.  I am a happy consumer of diapers.  And I am so thankful I don’t have to wash my son and daughter’s dirty nappies multiple times every day.

I am a consumer of food.  Such yummy divine goodness.  Last night, we fed the kids breakfast for dinner (eggs, bacon, toast, fruit), and then we bathed them and put them down.  Then the hubs and I had a “date” at home.  Steak, salad, and sweet potato marital bliss.  He lit a fire, and we watched a Christmas movie.  It was relaxing, romantic, and a sleeping pill (as I fell asleep before the movie ended).  So, I guess I am also a consumer of wood and media.

I am a consumer of electricity, and coal, and internet (although no one really owns that—so I guess I am a consumer of companies that deliver it).

I am a consumer of coffee and soda.  And dog food (for I have 3 dogs).

I am a consumer.  And I like it.

But you know what I love to consume more than any of the above, including Christmas gifts from the store?

Love.

I love to consume hugs.

And kisses.

And tickles.

And backrubs.

I love to consume smiles.

And cheers.

And giggles.

And tears. Because that means at least I am there.

I love to consume wrinkled papers that come from backpacks with markings from school.

And half-eaten candy canes smothered in drool.

I love to consume wet towels and laundry and dishes galore.

I love to consume it all—and a little bit more.

For with all of these above that I consume, I am reminded each day that I live in a house full of love.

And as we await the holy night,

I know in my home that all is right.

After the bath, all cosy in bed, I cover my three with a happy gait.

And then I slip quietly off…

To sit and eat, sleep and wait.

Before I know it, tomorrow is here.

And I get to consume a little bit more.  It’s truly a dream, this consumption of mine.

But, no matter what it looks like in the heart, it does cost plenty of dimes.

For even though my love is free…

To feed and diaper and take care of my 3 takes a grocery store connected to a clothing store connected to a school supply shop.

And more.

But I gladly consume because I know what it’s for!

Adelyne.

Maxwell.

And Sweet Cheeks, Little Miss Josephine.

For these three, I would gladly buy out the store.

So, you see, I am a consumer.  And I like it.

But OH HEAVENS NO…there will be no number four!

My Rocky Balboa…I hope it’s not insulting.

Today is a GREAT day. It’s my sister’s Golden Birthday. November 16th. Except she did not just turn 16. She just turned…

Ah, what’s that expression?

I think it’s 40.

Over the hill.

Lordy, Lordy, Darby’s 40!

But she doesn’t look a day over 38. I would say 25, but I pretty much think all 25-year-olds look like kids at this stage of my life, so I will simply stick with the fact that she still looks like a lady in her 30s.

And who is this great 40-year-old lady with this wonderful name Darby?

Why, this woman is my Rocky Balboa. I really hope that’s not insulting.

Here. Let me explain.

My sister and I are 16 months apart in age.

If you have children, you understand. That’s close in age. So close, in fact, that at times you feel as if you have an extension of who you are.  Almost like a twin.

Except, I am not sure she feels the same way.  And this is why…

Before we returned to Poland, Darby and I were having a fabulous late-night chat.  You see, my husband left for Poland a month before we did, so I had the immense privilege of living with my sister and her wonderful husband and fabulous kids.  Which was also RIGHT next door to my amazing brother, his awesome wife and fantastic kids.

It truly was a dream month.

But back to my conversation…

My sister looked at me and said, “Do you remember all of those times you had to fight to wear makeup or high heels or pantyhose?”

“Do you remember all of those times you had to fight to go on a date or stay up late?”

“Do you remember all of those times you had to fight to drive a car or go to a movie with your friends?”

And I simply answered, “No.”

Because I don’t.

“Exactly.” She replied.

My sister.  She is the eldest in our family.  She was our Rocky Balboa.  She entered the ring first and fought all of those battles for us.

And for Darby, they were battles.

For my brother, Casey, and I, they were simply victories.

So, to my sister.  The one that turned 40 today, I just want to say…

I thank you.

I admire you.

And I love you.

Thank you for being the most amazing sister in the world.  An example as a wife.  A brilliant auntie.  A stupendous daughter.  And the most fabulous mother.

You are my Rocky.  And I thank you for being ahead of me.  Not just because you jumped in the ring for me, but because you have always been my steadfast fighter.

On your knees, before our awesome God, praying for me.  For my life—in health and uncertainty.  In my marriage.  And for my children.

I will never forget when you told me that God spoke to you in a dream and said, “Brooke, God told me you would have another baby.”

And then we had Max.  Miracle Max.

You, my sister, you are being celebrated a world away today because of a date that marks the birth of the start of your life here on earth.

But a world away, I will celebrate you.  Not because of your birth—but because of your life.

Thank you, my sister.

Forever I thank you.

And, to end it all, “Yo, Adrienne!”  Just because I couldn’t resist.

I love you, my Rocky.

Forever and always,

your B

***

Just for fun.  In case you have never had the chance to read another rather emotionally charged battle we had.  Except this time we were both in the boxing ring.  The opponents?  The other sister 😉  Enjoy a throwback blog posting.  xo b

Knockdown Drag out Fight in Costco