hound dog

i put the kids in bed and then went back downstairs to exercise. when i was done i headed back up to go to bed myself. i get to the top of the stairs and i smell something out of the ordinary. all the kids' bedroom doors are closed. i take another whiff...yep, unmistakable. i go into the bedroom and tell corey that i might need some help cleaning up barf in lyla's room.

"how do you know she barfed?" he asks.

i tell him "cause i can smell it."

"she didn't cry or anything...and how can you smell it? her door is closed."

"i'm not sure how i can smell it but i can."

sure enough, we sneak in there in the dark and find a nice puddle of barf. gross.

i think my husband is wondering if i am still pregnant to be able to sniff that out. i am kind of wondering the same thing. when does my impeccable sense of smell disappear, cause i can still smell evah-ree-thang! i'm getting a little tired of it. i feel like a mama hound dog.

even after 3 kids

so we are all outside playing. i hand the camera to corey and tell him to take some pictures. i hear him clicking away. i turn around to see the camera pointed at my rear. see you have to know my hubby... he does this all the time. takes silly {inappropriate} pictures, laughs about it, threatens not to delete it and then he always deletes them. it's like saying i love you in a teasing silly way.

so i download the pictures and i am looking through them. and there it is, still there, not deleted:

i show him the picture and ask why he didn't delete it. he says, "what, i like your bum. it's nice."

as i stood there with my mouth open i realized that this is one thing i really love about my corey. even though he says it in funny ways, he always let me know that even after having three kids he still thinks i'm sexy.

i say just you wait! i am working out now and soon my muffin top that hangs over my jeans will disappear (please!)....but i'm not sure i will ever be able to rid my stomach of the grandma flab that lingers and gets worse after each baby. oh well, at least i know he loves me with the muffin top and grandma flab.

i love you too corey. maybe i'll take a picture of your bum and post it on here so that you will know just how much.

one workout later

day 2, week 1 of exercise program completed.

report: it still sucks.

out with the old

i am feeling like an old lady lately. maybe it is because i am not old enough to have 3 kids. and by being a mother of 3 i feel older than my ripe age of 26. or maybe it is those sweety wrinkles that have formed around my eyes. or maybe it is because of the 17 year old boy in our ward who, when asked how old he thought the hubby and i were, said that i must be about 35 so corey would have to be in his late 30's.

i about vomited when i heard that.

wtf! i am not even 10 years older than this kid! and i swear i don't look 35! i wanted to tackle him or maybe kick him in the shins. doesn't he know that you always guess WAY younger than you think. i guess i set myself up by even asking the question. lesson learned...whatever.

to make matters worse, while sitting in the doctors office, i picked up a questionnaire: how to choose the right birth control for you. i think to myself, that is definitely something i need, as i start to answer the questions in my head. the final question: what is your age (please check one). the options are 18-25, 26-34....i got that far and realized that i can no longer check the 18-25 box.

i again thought about barfing.

i'm not the type to care about my age. it's just a number and i feel much younger than even 26. so tell me, how do i stop looking like 35? and is it okay if, just for my sanity's sake, i lie and keep checking that 18-25 box? and is it wrong to egg that kid's house for saying such a terrible thing?

as i answer these questions i am going to try very hard to keep my face expressionless, so as to not add any new wrinkles to my eyes and forehead...and to keep the need for botox at bay.

out of the closet

post pregnancy results...my butt is huge!

well, at least that is what i am hearing from my favorite pair of jeans that call out to me daily from my closet. they say, "erin, you have too much junk in your trunk. get your lazy self onto the treadmill so that we can see the sunlight again. someday. hopefully soon."

those poor jeans. i try them on weekly and i can hear them squealing in pain as i try desperately to get the button even semi close to the button hole.

well, i have had enough. i am tired of wearing flowy gaucho pants, shorts that are 97% spandex, 3% denim and pajama pants (sad, i know.). today i googled 5k training program and i clicked on the link that looked the best. it sent me HERE and i think this will be easy. right?!?

okay. babies are sleeping. the boy and i head downstairs to where we keep the dreaded treadmill. i begin with the training for day 1, week 1. it seriously only took me 5 minutes before my butt started itching. does this happen to everybody? the cookies that live there, i'm sure, are the reason my butt was itchy. they're comfortable and they don't want to leave. so they try to make me uncomfortable to thwart my desire to exercise. dang cookies.

...aahhhhh. to make this long story short the whole thing was a miserable experience. i can't decide what's worse: the itchy butt or my giant, milk-filled boobs hitting me in the chin (i swear!) between every stride.

i have come to a conclusion. strangely enough it is the same conclusion i find each time i get the drive to exercise...

i hate running. and walking. and just exercise in general. it sucks, but...

they really are my favorite jeans. and they deserve a little love in return for all the times they have made my butt (in its smaller days) look smokin' hot.

so, treadmill, we shall meet again. and soon.

a day in the life

we've been out all morning day. playing with cousins, chatting, eating. mostly just thoroughly exhausting myself and my kids. i make the 20 minute drive home. it was one of those drives where you get in the car and drive away and the next thing you know you are at home, wondering how in the world you got there safely. we pull into the garage and then the chaos starts...

get all the bags out of the car. get the baby out of the car. set him in a quiet spot in the house. back to the car. let the boy out. tell him to go in the house. grab the wet towels from the car (swimming). throw them in the door. back to the car. grab the sleeping toddler. carry her to the crib. back down the stairs. stop at the bathroom to pee. wash hands (of course). grab a drink for the boy. move the baby who is now crying. turn on tv for the boy. turn off tv. go outside. turn on sprinkler for the boy. lay out towel for the boy. shove a binkie into screaming baby's mouth. get diapers and wipes to change baby. stand up. notice that my pants just fell down....

...what???

of course for about half a second i heard the hallelujah chorus in my head as i thought those pesky 9 lbs of lingering baby weight had miraculously just melted away and that my pants fell down cause they were just to dang big. {smile}

but that wasn't the case. when, in the course of all the happenings at my house, did my pants even get unbuttoned? i review in my mind and then realize i did stop to pee during all that chaos. then i remember i went outside with my unbuttoned pants, my shirt that is up around my belly button and my holy underpants in full view to the world!

having three kids is making me lose my mind. in the course of doing everything for these 3 little ones, i seem to forget about myself and the stuff i need to do for me.

you were totally right mom!! having kids really is like being pecked to death by a duck. they peck and peck and peck until...well until you forget to button your pants after you pee.

but, i guess if i had to choose between being pecked to death by ducks or not having kids, i would choose the kids. they make my life...{thinking...thinking...thinking} hectic and tiring and exhausting and.....interesting.

now if only i could find a way to do all the stuff that needs to be done (for then and me!) AND remember to button my shorts after each potty stop then i would be golden!!

i think i am going to sit and ponder on the solution (for a minute) and give these beauties a little r&r. don't they look tired?? they really are.