Not Me Monday is one of my favorite blog topics for a number of reasons. What a great chance to be absolutely real and to relax into this crazy dance of life, parenthood and relationships. The burden in the Mothering world to always be perfect is very suffocating.

Its like going out to a fancy dinner wearing your skinniest jeans, barely breathing or moving all night. Thinking only about how amazing it will feel to get home, peel off those ridiculous jeans and let all your mommy muffin-top hang out in some big ol' sweats.

Not Me Monday is a pair of big ol'comfy sweats to me. Even though a week may go by that I think, wow, I don't think much happened this week to write about. If I just sit with that thought for a moment or two, flashes of the past week and all the 'oops' and 'oh shits' come flooding back. It is absolutely freeing to not only laugh about them, but to also share them with you, my Faithful Few, knowing that you are identifying and laughing too.

This week seemed to be the epic battle of the wills between The Child and I. I feel tense now, just thinking about it. There seems to be only a certain amount of time that your child can "talk back" and yell "NO!" to everything you say, before you as a human being (with feelings) begin crumbling. All I want as a Mom is to have him respond "Ok, Mommy."

Really, is that so hard to ask for?

Even if he didn't do what I wanted, to at least have him obey with his words would be so validating.

During such epic battle this past week, it seemed I desperately required a time of retreat (can we say "Quiet Time"?!?!) Unfortunately, The Child decided that Quiet Time would be his opportunity to create the most damage. To secretly plan his next move of attack. At one point I walked into his room during Quiet Time to discover him on the floor (he's supposed to be in bed, with books) with his lamp, that was turned on, NOT stuffing it full of kleenexes.

Apparently he planned to burn the entire house down.

A small amount of time later I heard more interesting noises coming from his room, and decided it would be wise to sneak up on the enemy. I opened the door to not find him on the floor again with his lamp, this time it was smashed into a bazillion, razor sharp pieces.

Oh Goodness!!!

I tried so hard to NOT think about what could, would, should have happened if I hadn't walked in at that exact moment. I'm thinking he did not pull the lamp cord, causing it to fall and smash against the side of his bed. I did not then proceed to scold him for a very long time while cleaning up the glass. Part of me was not extra sad to say goodbye to the lamp that he's had since before he was born. I did not find myself just a bit extra mad or frustrated as this whole thing was going down in his room, I was trying to nap. What kind of mother would nap when she knew her child was awake? Not me!

I did not put him in time out and tell him to not move until I came back. During said time-out I would never take a shower, making his time in the chair not around the 25min mark. Nope, not me!

Since this week was one of epic battles, I was not looking so forward to a double-date night with our neighbors on Saturday. Minutes before the babysitter was scheduled to arrive I did not notice how disgusting my toilets were. It was like my eyes were opened to what the outside world would see.... a brown, disgusting film.

EW.

It was not me madly scrubbing all three toilets in the house, scolding myself for not noticing sooner and how could I possibly be out of toilet cleaner, too? Nope, not me!

All I Want for Christmas.....

...Is to be able to pull out of my driveway, onto the street.

It only takes 3 or 4 neighborly men, 2 snow blowers, and a shovel to get the job done.

*Yes. I am the kind of woman who supports her man from inside the warm, cozy house.

The kind of woman who takes pictures through the front window to avoid the bitter wind and snow.

That's true love, I tell ya!

Bootylicious

The few years that I spent in a public high-school, I was never allowed to attend the dances. At the time I felt much like the odd one out, but thankfully my friends never held it against me and I was never ousted. But there is a deep need in every person to dance. Even when you think you are unable to bust a move, and are incapable of keeping a beat, you still will try... especially when you think know one is looking. Those moments are so perfect as you are being completely, wholly, truly yourself.

Since I was deprived of this venue as a teenager, I have made up for it quite a bit as an adult. Ok, yes I was allowed, encouraged guilted to dance in church. But really... you just can't 'get down' and shake your groove thang when your trying so hard to abstain from any appearance of evil. It is a completely different type of dancing you do in church, a good kind, a random shuffling of the feet, waving of the hands, and maybe some jumping or leaping. But sometimes a girl's just gotta get down. Feel the beat and shake her booootay.

All this to say.... I love going dancing. Blast that Brittany and Beyonce and let me work it out. I am not looking for anything else but a good beat with some great girlfriends and a fun night of breaking it down.

Although, I have encountered some weird things in this world of dark, sticky, sweaty, groovin' clubs. Most of those weird, yet absolutely hilarious, things come in the form of people, boys to be exact. Do you love to people watch? Hit the club. Its the best thing since Walmart.

This past weekend I took a little road trip to celebrate a dear friends birthday. After dinner, drinks and some fooseball we decided to do a little dance dance dance. The club we were at had a great atmosphere with a wide variety of people. Those kind are my favorite as they will always hold a random experience or two... and some fairly bizarre people.

Like the dude behind us who thought he was on top of the world as he played the "Air Bass Guitar" the entire night long. He probably could be a great bass player, if he actually had a guitar. You know all the ladies come a runnin' when you break out the air instruments.

Or the random dude (sporting a creepy mustache in support of 'Movember') who ran his hand through the back of my hair, then walked by and told me I have beautiful hair. Uhhhhhmmmm.... ok.

My favorite are the girls who've had just enough drinks to let go of just enough inhibitions and lose all sense of personal space. Yes. I love how you dance with your elbow banging me in the back of the head.

But then who am I to judge as I may or may not have broke out into the "Running Man" and other various old school rap dance moves (circa Fresh Prince of Belair) at some point in the evening. Like I said, sometimes a girl's just gotta break it down.

Not Me Monday

I missed this week, but check out one of my favorite Mommy bloggers who just tried her hand at it.

I'm pretty much in love with her story.

I Spy With My Little Eye....

While we were away and The Husband cleaned, organized and Christmas decorated, he moved our small, ancient TV from the main living room to our bedroom. Yes, I know what they say about a TV in a couple's bedroom.

But do those people have toddlers that wake up at the crack of dawn, only to snuggle kick, poke, bounce in bed with them? Do they know the magic that early cartoons (in bed) have for SAHM's?

I didn't think so.

Having the TV in our bedroom is a new thing, one that The Child has quickly grown to love.

Maybe a bit too much.

The other night we put him to sleep in his bed. Listened at the door for a few minutes, and then made our way downstairs, positive that he was fast asleep, dreaming of sugar plums. Retreating to our "Cave" (the basement which holds the very very large TV... and maybe a futon on the floor), we were confident in settling in for a cozy night of quality television.

About an hour and a half later, The Husband decides that its his bedtime and begins to make his way upstairs.

Only to not come back down again and say:

"Did you put The Child in our bed? With the TV on?"

(Hellooooo? Who is he talking to???)

Me: "No. Of course not!"

TH: "Huh. Well, maybe you should come upstairs"

We did not make our way upstairs to find a very clever child, zoned out in front of cartoons, not relaxing in Mommy & Daddy's bed, at 9:30pm.

Somehow, the little smarty pants did not find the remote, or the cartoon station, or think that it was an ok thing to do. The Husband and I did not have a hard time keeping a straight face while disciplining him. Nope, not us!

I was not crazy, frazzled Mom on Thursday morning, rushing around, trying to get The Child out the door in time for pre-school. We were not almost 15mins late, only to find the doors locked. The Child did not proceed to have a melt down (he was seriously looking forward to some time away from crazy Mommy) and I did not begin to create a fabulous story in my head as to all the possibilities as why the school was closed.

Did they close down and not call me? Do they not like my child? Did they have a field trip planned and forget us? Do they not love me?

Oh yes, I had a fabulous time on my little concocted pity trip.

Once home, I called the administrator only to discover that the teachers had not called in sick the week before. And one of the kids Mommy's had not called to inform the school that her child was not being treated for H1N1.

My insecurities did not instantly turn into a pat on the back for my impeccable timing of missing the 2 weeks of school that everyone was sharing extra special germs. Nope, not me!

The Return

After almost two weeks, I have returned to the great white north. Also known as home. The journey that I was on has really just begun. A whole new part of my heart has been opened, enlightened, some pieces still yet to be understood. But I received exactly what I was longing for deep in my belly. A shift, a change, a new understanding. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to tell the whole story, some pieces are meant just for those moments, held deep within my heart. But I will post pictures of my journey soon, they are still in the editing process.

Upon my return home, I realized just how amazing The Husband is. Of course, I've known since the moment I met him that he is not one to sit idle. The times that I have left home before, I've always returned to a clean home and usually a project or two finished, sometimes even a story or two about how he 'almost' bought this, that or the other thing. (He likes to make large purchases when I'm gone, thankfully I have friends spies who talk him out of it).

As we drove up to our house the other night from the airport, it sparkled with an array of Christmas lights, looking oh so cozy with all the garlands wrapped around the deck. Needless to say, I was impressed.

Then I walked inside.

The house was spotless. Even the closets were cleaned and organized. Any sign of clutter before (that drove me crazy) was gone. The Husband had gone on a different kind of shopping spree this time, a Christmas decoration shopping spree. It was like walking into a show-home. It felt absolutely amazing to walk into a clean, cozy, Christmas-y house. So I just had to share a few pictures with you, because we all know how much our partners love when we talk to our girlfriends about how amazing they are. :)

The wreaths were hung

Two trees are definitely better than one

This bookcase was a disaster before I left...

The last thing to be painted was our stairwell, and its now finished!

Closets cleaned, the clutter is gone.

The snowmen and baby Jesus are welcoming the Holiday season.

Happy Halloweeeeeeeeeeeeen

It all began with the hairy, scary monster cookie invasion!

Then the creepy, crawly spiders... ever watched "Arachnophobia"?!?!

Caught in tangled web....

Note the Ghetto Ride scarily parked in the background...

The big Daddy spider guards his lair....

Bwahahahahahahahahahhaaaaaaa.........