Today I did something different and interesting that had nothing to do with my children. 

And all the people said … AMEN. Finally, something else to discuss. I agree that it has been far, far too long.

I visited Nicholls State University, where my friend Laure teaches a class called “Information Technologies for Mass Communication.” She teaches other classes too, and freelances, and mothers two small boys, and volunteers her time, and always looks amazing. Don’t ask me how she does it, because hell if I know. Some kind of voodoo that I haven’t mastered yet.

She asked me to come visit her classroom to talk to her students about blogging. And I thought, really? when I got the text because I was wearing stained yoga pants and had to wipe baby slobber off my phone just so I could type out a reply. I’m a mess and I have nothing to offer anyone outside of this house. That is what I thought to myself as I quizzed her about why on Earth she would want ME OF ALL PEOPLE to come talk to her students. 

And my thoughts were partially true, I really am a mess. But the not true part was that I have nothing to offer. 

I do have something to offer.

Thankfully for everyone involved, I managed to pull myself together and look like a normal person before I showed up this morning. My brain power was at about 50 percent, but there’s nothing I can do about that until I start getting more sleep in like 5 years. 

All I managed to prepare the day before were seven very simple tips, because my children wanted to make sure I didn’t do too great of a job. Then I might get excited about being around other adults and think I need to do it more often, and that would mean I would have less time to clean pee off the floor. But really they have nothing to worry about, because chronic lack of sleep means that I blank out in the middle of thoughts a lot. 

I just stop talking, or trail off …

… what was I saying? Anyway. Today I felt more like myself than I have in a really long time. 

Also, college students now call me “Ma’am,” and nothing in the Junior section fits me anymore. These two things do not mean I’m old. I’m so deep in denial about being old enough for someone to call me “Ma’am” … you just don’t even know. I kept giggling and looking over my shoulder, thinking surely they weren’t referring to ME.

I know. Bless my heart.

There are plenty of people out there who are much more knowledgeable, talented, and interesting than I, so I’m grateful that I got the chance to share my thoughts with young minds today. I don’t claim to know the ins and outs of being a “blogger,” but I do know that sitting down at this computer after an evening like I just had (read: curtains were literally climbed. Husband will have to repair the damage with a drill.) centers me. I write what I know, and what I know is absolute insanity. 

Right now I feel like the only mom in America willing to admit that the 4 snow days we have had in the past week were 4 snow days too many.

That is all I have the capacity to write right now. I’m going to pour myself a glass of wine.

I have a very nice landlord who, after my recent oven fire, brought over a gift. Too bad it was about four days too late.

It’s screwed to the kitchen cabinet as you can see, right in plain sight should there ever be another fire. He said, “Where can I put this so that you’ll remember to use it if there is another fire? But not somewhere where it could fall on one of the kid’s heads, because I know you all are accident-prone …”

Yes. He said that. Then he made me practice yanking it off the wall and verified I knew how to use it properly, which was a trip and left me laughing inappropriately the way I tend to do when MY SANITY IS CRACKING.

I was really hoping to get a new oven out of the deal, but it turned out that the heating element just needed to be replaced. And now that’s done, and I’m left with a mess. I really just want to shut the door and never look in there again … in fact, I might do just that. The whole oven fire ordeal really took a lot out of me, and the thought of getting down on the floor and cleaning this thing is too much for me to handle. We all have limits.

Yeah, no.

But … next time … I’ll be ready. Here’s a selfie of me with my new bestie.

It’s been 7 months today since the baby of the family was born and I closed my uterus for good. 

She sure does have some interesting big brothers.

 

Sometimes having 3 kids is AWFUL. Sometimes it’s awesome. You just never know what you’re going to get on any given day. 

Today happens to be a really great day.

Merry Christmas to all, from the Hobbs family!

It’s Christmas Eve Eve 2013 and I am in so over my head, but I’ve come to a place where I no longer feel frantic. It’s like a calm acceptance of everything that is beyond my control. At this point … whatever. Pass the eggnog.

You know what makes me feel grumpy? Burpees. I’m not sure if I ever want to do one again in my life, also, I’m fairly certain this is exactly the look I had on my face the whole time. Pure irritation.

If you don’t know what a burpee is, here is the Wikipedia definition:

The burpee, also known as the squat thrust, is a full body exercise used in strength training and as an aerobic exercise. It is performed in four steps, and was originally known as a “four-count Burpee”:

1. Begin in a standing position.
2. Drop into a squat position with your hands on the ground. (count 1)
3. Kick your feet back, while keeping your arms extended. (count 2)
4. Immediately return your feet to the squat position. (count 3)
5. Stand up from the squat position (count 4) ^[1]

In short, it’s like a lethal combination of a push-up and a squat and they make you want to die, but dying is not an option because then you would be lying on the floor in someone else’s way. Burpees lock you in workout purgatory, much like the Gravity machine. Part of the beauty of taking classes is that I don’t stop when I’d really like to because the peer pressure keeps me going. If the woman next to me who is clearly much older than I am can do it, I CAN TOO. 

While I was busy being tortured, here is what Pepper was doing:

I love people who enjoy working in nurseries. I can’t imagine doing it. I want to hug them all, each one, but I’m always too sweaty so I just say thank you and leave.

Christmas is in like 4 days and I am completely unprepared, but I have just accepted it as my truth for this year. We’re forging ahead anyway as if we own Christmas, because that is how we roll in this house. We’re nothing if not self confident. People are coming to my house to see our dead tree, sit on our disgusting couches and watch our children tear into presents, and hopefully we will all be so charming that no one will notice that we are in completely over our heads.

Yeah, right.  

I’ve already decided that my motto for 2014 will be Low Expectations. I got this idea from a friend who posted something recently on Facebook, and I’m totally stealing it. For once this family is ahead of the game on something because we have totally mastered the skill of low expectations.

Just leave us like this … I kind of like it.