It was one of those grocery shopping trips.

Just me and the baby. He sat contently, spreading gooey sunshine via teething smiles through the store.  Chatting away in a language that resembles Vietnamese. Strangers tilted their heads and smiled and I just knew they were thinking, “Now THAT is the cutest darn kid in the world!”.

I was strutting my stuff, full of pride over my nutritious selections that filled my cart. Whole-grain goldfish instead of those “regular” ones. Gogurts that I still pass off as popsicles to my 5 year old. Lucky Charms that are “NOW with more fiber!”.

Then it happened. Like Christmas in July I spotted those fluffy, pure white goodies. All snug in that bag looking so comfy and delicious. Hostess powdered mini donuts. I toss a pack in the cart. One from the back of the display. Because those are fresher. And I’m all about fresh. I eye the big bag that is on sale…oh no no no. That would be glutinous.

I finish and load up the conveyor belt. The checker asks every-so-politely if I’d like that little pack of pleasure for my purse.

Um.

NO.

Because THAT would imply that I intend to scarf these down the instant I leave this store.  And someone with my obvious nutritional values would never do such a thing.

Instead I take note of which bag he just put them in. With the bananas. Good call sir.

Out the door we go, just me and my cherub, full of anticipation.

At the car I unload and, like a ninja, slip those donuts into my purse without any passersby noticing.

Because I DO intend to devour those  perfect, soft dinghies of delightfulness right here in my car. Why? Because I have 2 children at home that I need to hide these from. The baby in the back? He’s young and still distracted by shiny things that make lots of noise.

So he plays with some fake keys while I sit ever so carefully eating the powdered goodness, listening to Richard Blade on the New Wave station, and remembering a time when I could consume an entire box of these bad boys and never worry about what my behind would look like the next morning.

Yeah, it was a good grocery shopping trip.

Usually people wait until New Year’s Eve to reflect on their year, but typically I’ve had too much champagne to reflect on anything.  So I use Thanksgiving as the time to look back over the year and remember what I have to be thankful for.  So while I was enjoying my very hot and luxurious timeout tonight (a bath kids, get your mind out of the gutter!) I came up with my Top 10 Things I’m Thankful For list.

1.  My husband and I celebrated our 13th wedding anniversary this year.  We still talk and laugh together every day.

2.  We have 3 beautiful children (inside and out).

3.  I gave birth without complications to a healthy (and hefty) baby boy.  He is now the center of gravity for our entire family.

4.  I can count on my two hands how many times the 5 of us have collectively been sick this entire year.

5.  My parents and Jers’ parents are alive and healthy.

6.  I have a brand new nephew, another one arriving any minute, and another one (from my sister-from-another-mister) arriving in February.  How sweet is that?!

7.  Even though there have been times (yes plural) over this past year when our bank account has been in the red, God has never forsaken us.  He has always made sure we’ve had a roof over our head, food to eat, and each other.  Our daily bread.

8.  I have amazing friends.  Some are tried and true and others are brand new.  I adore these women.  Each one of them is amazing and I learn so much from them.  I am truly blessed to have such beautiful women in my life and I thank God for them every night.

9.  I get to stay home with my “babies” every day and witness their awesomeness first hand.  I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

10.  This blog.  I know it sounds weird but it has lit a little fire in me.  I just wrote my first sponsored post (means I actually got paid to write!) and I am blown away.  Since I was little I have always wanted to write; poetry, short stories, books.  But I always just figured it would have to wait until my kids were older.  This blog has opened up new opportunities for me and I am so excited!  I have one of those amazing friends (#8) for pushing me to start it (you know who you are!) and to her I say a great big “THANKS!”

So there’s my Top 10 Things I’m Thankful For list.  I would love for you to leave a comment below telling me what YOU are thankful for!!!

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you!

Today I was totally surprised to hear that I had inspired someone with my blog posts.  Christina (yes, she’s a Christina too which pretty much makes her awesome) from Mommie Needs More Coffee gave me the best gift ever by stating in her newest blog post that she was fired up to start taking a little more time for herself.  I literally started crying while I was reading it.  Of course, I’m PMS-ing too so that probably didn’t help.  But knowing that there could be other mommies out there reading me who have also been inspired to pick up a book or organize a girls’ night is rad… like super rad.  And, Christina, if you are reading this…thank you.  You have inspired me to get back to my blogging.

I realized, after reading her post, that I have not been getting my “me time”.  I thought that once the kids started school I would have all this time to chill with Beeb and relax.  Not so much.  I feel like I’m constantly going, and I’m tired.  So tired that instead of doing something to rejuvenate myself I usually sit staring blankly at the computer screen.  I can’t blame the Beeb, he’s sleeping 12-13 hours a night (Woot!) and he’s a peach.  I wish I could bottle his chillness and take shots of it daily.  And the kids aren’t involved in any extracurricular activities other than church.  But someone always NEEDS something.  Or has a question.  Or is arguing.  It’s enough to drive a mommy to drink, which I do on occasion.  But just a little.  And always with food.

So here it is, my back-from-the-dead blog post.  Aren’t you excited?!  I am!  I’ve also joined a women’s Growth Group at church. I can already tell these women are going to inspire me.  And I have a weekly park date with some lovely mommies and their babies.  That may not seem like a timeout but the babies all sleep and I’m out with girlfriends and getting some exercise so I think it qualifies.  Some say a bunch of women getting together is hardly “me” time, but let me tell you something.  Being with the girls reminds you of who you really are when you aren’t wearing your mommy pants or your wifey pants (because, yes, I DO wear the pants).

It reminds you that you are still a pretty cool chick, you ARE fun, and, gosh darn it, people like you.

I became a Christian when I was 16.  I remember the precise time and place and who was with me.  But in the years between then and now I had never been baptized.  There was always something about being dunked in a pool of water in front of a church congregation that made be cringe.  Probably had something to do with my horrid body image.  I mean, standing dripping wet in front of God is one thing, doing it in front of hundreds of people I don’t know with all eyes on me is quite another.  But when my daughter came to me and said she had made the choice to be baptized at the beach I thought I should follow her example.  And to tell you the truth, the ocean seems like a much better place to be baptized.  So organic and more like how Jesus would do it.  So we took the baptism class at church and made the decision to, literally, be baptized together.  I will be honest here and admit that I had grand ideas of a larger-than-life bonding experience with my tween.  I realized, as she ran off with her friends to sing our worship songs, that I may have set myself up for disappointment.  But when the pastor asked for all who were being baptized to come up and share their stories I watched her turn and say, “where’s my mom!?”.  Those three words made my heart explode.  I walked up to her and said something sarcastic when inside I was overflowing knowing she still needed me to be with her.  We took our place in the line of 30 and after all the stories were told and a brief prayer was said we headed down to the (very cold) water.  Here is where fear sets in for me.  Fear of baptism, no.  Fear of everyone seeing me looking like a drowned rat, nope.

This is where my irrational fear of seaweed sets in.

My whole life I have lived by the beach.  And since I can remember I have hated, no, loathed seaweed.  I loved boogie boarding as a kid.  But that walk in to the shore when the seaweed wraps around your leg?  It would send me screaming like a banshee, kicking and flailing about like a crazy person, up and down the beach.  So the dreaded walk into the waves had me visualizing a dunk under the water and me emerging with a giant wad of that slimy green stuff attached to my head.  I had a bit of a panic attack.

But standing in that (did I mention, very cold?!) water, waves pummeling us, my daughter grabbed my hand.  (AMAZING!)  I could have been attacked by Jaws (another irrational, ocean-related fear of mine) and I wouldn’t have cared.  My eye-rolling, all-knowing, sarcastic (where does she get that from?) baby wanted to hold my hand!  The pastor quickly said between waves, “I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit”, and we went under, hand in hand, and popped up sans seaweed.  It was perfection.  An experience I will treasure my whole life.