Benefits to not being 'a hugger'

Don't get me wrong, not all hugs are bad.  I'm guessing that chances are I'll probably smother this new baby will hugs and kisses.  However, regarding the general public, I really appreciate my personal space..... and then some. 

And then there are times that I'm sure the general public does not want to hug me. 

Example?  Last Sunday, Wesley came in the house to see if I could help him for 20 minutes, max.  (That should have been my first clue.) 

Then he told me that I should put on some old, cruddy shoes (clue number two!). 

As time really holds no significant value to my husband, we spent the next "20 minutes" processing and doctoring cattle, feeding cattle in two pastures and scouting a neighbor's corn field for rootworm damage.  (Actual time?  Nearly 2 hours.) 

This left me roughly 13 minutes to get ready for church.  I love mornings like that.  Spit bath, mascara, chapstick and whatever I could find in the closet to wear.

As I sat in my pew at church I was very glad that our pastor never encouraged everyone to get up and exchange fellowship with one another that morning.  Not just for my benefit, and the fact that I'm not 'a hugger', but also for all the poor little old ladies who probably would have hugged me, wrinkled their nose in simultaneous surprise and disappointment and then managed to squeak out an awkward smile as they quickly shuffled back to their original pews far away from me. 

Moral of the story?  If you ever come in close for a hug, don't say I didn't warn you. 

Really?

Behold, a phrase I thought I could save until a few years into motherhood.  I never thought I would have to bust it out on my dearly beloved husband. 

Don't ask about the events that led up to my statement.  Just don't. 

"No, honey, you may not vacuum the top of the oven.  Ever." 

Baby Accessories

I know I've said this before, but let me reiterate.  Pregnancy brain is no myth, my friends, no myth at all. 

At this point, a snail could keep up with things faster than me.  A goldfish, with an average attention span of 3 seconds, can grasp things faster than me.  It's getting really bad. 

A very nice lady was quizzing me the other day about baby accessories that I already had or might possibly still need. 

"Swing, bathtub, bouncer, car seat, playpen, high chair... I think we're about covered."  I told her this with such confidence

"What about a shower?" she quizzed me. 

"WHAT?!  We need a shower?  Why in the world do we need a baby bathtub then?  This is the first time I've heard about this!  Why isn't this in any of the 47 books I've read?  It's not in any of the blogs, it's not on pinterest, this is awful!"  In four words she managed to cut me to the quick.  I was instantly convinced that I was going to fail at motherhood because I didn't have one vital accessory. 

"Um, I meant a baby shower.  I think you'll be alright with just having a baby bathtub."

Please pray for me and my poor, poor brain.  We're only in first gear and still on overload. 

Like Father, Like Fetus

I wake up often at night, most of the time due to someone pushing on my bladder.  (Sorry, TMI, I know, but it is an integral part of the story.)

I awoke Saturday night for the umpteenth time and I grumbled to myself because it felt like someone was stretching out in every possible direction in my uterus.  One of those big, super-long, feel-good stretches.  I was less than amused. 

I then glanced over to look at Wesley sleeping peacefully in bed.  He was taking up 80% of the bed in one of those big, super-long, feel-good sleeping sprawls. 

And they wonder why I woke up grumpy on Sunday morning. 

I Win

Do you ever have those days when you stick it to 'the man'?  You perform some act that is so genius that you're sure everyone should step back in awe and wonder at your actions while they watch you gleefully do a happy dance?

Yep, I had one of those days.

I stuck it to 'the man'.  Because I make homemade laundry soap.  Mwahahahaha.  (evil scientist laugh)

For kicks, I even write the date on the lid of the tub when I make a batch.  The last time I made a batch of laundry soap was January 13, 2012.  That would be one and a half years ago, folks.  Take that, man.  It costs me roughly $15 to make a batch, and I even purchase these items at our local grocery store where it costs me a bit more.  I can stomach paying full price for items when I only have to purchase them every 18 months.

I am a bit disappointed in myself, because I'm pretty sure I could have lasted at least another 2 months with the mixture I had left.  However, Wesley reminded me that in two months my priorities were probably going to change drastically and perhaps I should prepare in advance.  Point well taken, honey. 

If you would like to see a copy of the recipe that I use, please click on the link below. 
http://beingcreativetokeepmysanity.blogspot.com/2010/11/homemade-laundry-soap.html#comments

One note - when it mentions grating the three bars of soap with a cheese grater, don't.  I used a small food processor and it cut my time in half, plus created a finer product that I like more.

Now, go forth, save some money and stick it to the man.