27.

What a full 27 years they have been!

I’ve had a pretty good run at life (not that I plan on it ending), and I’ve very thankful to have 27 years of good health, a family whom I actually enjoy, a husband who I know loves me, two beautiful little girls, and a dog that causes mass chaos every time I walk in the door (even from getting the mail). Perhaps this year more than ever I find myself just reflecting on the happiness that has been consistent in my life. I’m a lucky girl any way you slice it.

I’m really just happy to be older. I’ve mentioned it here and there, but I’m just an old soul. I like to go to bed early. I love the Golden Girls. I don’t understand most of the latest fashion trends. I’m proud of my big, red minivan. And I like to talk about the weather. I’m not saying I want to be 60, but when I was 25 and had a kid I hated everyone telling me I was too young. Not that they stop now that I’m 27 (I blew someone’s mind the other day telling them that I had two), but at least I’m getting to an age that’s apparently more appropriate for child bearing. And watching the Golden Girls.

All those things aside, I have other things to tell you on this, the day of my birth. I write a lot about the kids (duh) and a good portion about the dog and some about my main squeeze – but never much about myself. Mainly because I’m fairly boring – see above ^^ for a reminder of examples. So I tried to dig up some things you probably don’t know. For instance:

I wear a $14 ring on my left hand.

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Pretty, right?

Not because Kyle never bought me a ring. Or because I don’t like the one he did buy. But because I’ve been pregnant a time or two and it has really messed with the size of my fingers. Apparently, and I wasn’t told this until too late, you can’t size a ring as much as you want. So when I got pregnant with Leah I sized it up some near the end, then sized it down some after I had her, then sized it down some more after I lost 70lbs, then sized it up some when I gained a portion of that back. And it really messed with the metal. Then Quinn comes around and I tried to start on the same sizing journey and they stopped me. Or at least warned me to be careful. So I said screw it. I just bought a ring that would fit for every stage, until I’m back to my normal self. I am maybe the least romantic person on the planet. It didn’t phase me at all to go pick out a big, fake rock. And I love that Kyle chose to give me a real ring, and I love that he sacrificed a lot of money for it – but this $14 one says all I need it to. It says I’m taken. It says I have a guy I’m not letting go of. Truthfully, he could’ve tied a little piece of rope around my finger and I would have been happy. I’m just happy there is something on my finger that speaks for my heart. Maybe I should just get the ring finger tattoo and call it a day?

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I shattered our kitchen window a year ago in June, and it’s getting fixed FRIDAY! Basically, I was watching Leah play outside from the kitchen and I saw that she was about to step in a pile of poop so I smacked the window with my palm, and… well. Crack. An ordinary person might have fixed it within a normal time frame – not me. Or not us, I guess. We just kind of enjoyed the spider looking crack for the better part of an entire year. I finally called a couple weeks ago – because it seemed like the right thing to do – and bada bing, they’re coming this week with a new piece of glass. I honestly barely notice it. Is that bad? When the guy was here to measure it for the replacement he let me know that the seal on the inside would be gray instead of the black that it is now, and he asked if I cared. I kind of stared at him blankly, trying to figure out why I should care. I think he sensed my confusion and went on to explain that some people like to match what they had. Then I really stared at him. I made sure to tell him, “sir, this window has been broken for a year… you could give me a yellow seal and I wouldn’t notice a difference.” Needless to say, I’m excited to see our new gray seal. And uncracked window.

Along those lines…

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You may notice that our water filter status is now in “good” condition. Well, Kyle and I like to live life on the edge, so again, for the past year it has been in “replace” status, beeping at us every so often. We decided the dirt in the water would only make us stronger, so why waste the time to replace it. So how did it get in good status? Well, two theories. 1) Good things come to those who wait. And it just magically fixed itself one day. Or 2) fearing for our health, the inlaws pulled a sneak attack while they were babysitting. Either way, I was planning on pairing this with the broken window story when I noticed the red light is now green again. Neato.

So what do those two things have to do with me? Well, just a glimpse into the inner workings of my brain. I just don’t care about stuff like that. Our couches have stains, there’s been a marker line on the carpet in the playroom for forever, Leah colored on the wall a month or more ago, and the list goes on. What you should know about me here is that I’m busy living in my house. There is time to watch movies, and cut paper, and read Brown Bear, and color, and make cookies, but there’s not always time to call a window repair man. The water filter beeping at me doesn’t take away from a game of chase that has been promised to a certain 3 year old. A blue marker line in the playroom means we were busy playing, and too busy still playing to clean it up. I live in my house. I don’t offer to model it.

Broken windows add character, no?

This doesn’t have a picture – but I could eat an entire package of Oreos in one sitting. I’m not kidding.

My guilty pleasure is the Wendy Williams Show. Ha. She is something else – but I’m a sucker for celebrity gossip when my kids are sleeping. And she delivers.

Our neighbor across the street is an older guy, and quite sadly, his wife passed away a month or more ago. Since then, every trash day I have seen him set mounds of trash out on the curb. Beds, plants, dishes, etc. He is definitely cleaning out his house. And it makes me really, really sad. So much so that I try not to look out the window on Friday mornings. I can’t imagine having a life with someone for so long and then suddenly there’s just one. And all of those pieces of life you built together find there way to the curb.

Depressed yet? Back to happy…

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Every night a pair of glowing eyes can be found at the foot of our bed. Duncan begs for permission to climb aboard, and then I beg Kyle for permission on his behalf. He can’t deny the both of us, so up 90lbs of fur come. And he lands on top of me. And it’s one of my favorite things. It feels so good to cuddle with him to end every day. Duncan and I go through a lot together in a day – Leah wears me down, Quinn tries to rip his ears off – we’re beat by nighttime. It feels so good to just relax with him beside on top of me. We rejuvenate before morning comes again. And then at some point, it turns into this:

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Yes, that’s his foot in my head. And the towel he’s supposed to be on.

Idonotwanttobepregnant. Idonotwanttobepregnant. Idonotwanttobepregnant. EEEEK! I totally want to be pregnant again! How do people stop having babies?! I swear I’ll never see that day. I’m currently dealing with this thought of, “there’s only two of them.” They say when you’re done you just know. And well, I guess I’m not done. There’s only two of them. I need more. Luckily, I married a guy who’s on board with a house full of babies. But for now, I will suppress this feeling until a later date.

I don’t use the “home row” when typing. Never did. I cheated in all of my keyboarding classes. I have my own system – and it’s just as good as the real thing.

I felt really old while I was at Leah’s soccer practice yesterday. I didn’t care if she was good at soccer or if she looked cute (but boy did she!), I just wanted her to listen to her coach and be nice to the other kids. What a mom thought! It was also the first time I didn’t have to participate in an activity with her. I just got to cheer from the bleachers! How fun! But how terrifying – I was still trying to parent under my breath, “Leah, listen.” “Leah, stand up.” “Leah, go get your ball.” Hopefully no one heard my under the breath mutterings. She did SO good, though. I was proud for sure.

My body is different after growing two little humans. With Leah, I popped her out and bounced right back. With Quinn, I lost the weight (and then some), but things are just different. Things are wider. Or looser. Or eeek. And there are stretch marks. Oh well, I suppose. There were two people living inside me for a while. But it is weird. A new normal.

I sometimes know more about sports than Kyle does. Honestly, every once in a while I tell him some news he hasn’t heard. Secretly, I know he’s impressed with my knowledge. I enjoy watching SportsCenter and the MLB channel.

That should about do it.

Have a good day.

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