Well, here I am. I made it through the day...And truthfully, somewhere between picking up or dropping off a kid and having to wake the baby for the third time or something like that, I really wondered what I'd look at the end of the day...if I'd made it.
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(I just checked to see what I look like...It's not pretty but also not as super bad as I thought it might be. For example: Damnage*: I think my hormones changed (again) an hour ago and now I practically have a mustachio and eyebrows similar to that of Frita Kahlo's.

Consolation: my skin looks great. Damnage: my hair didn't get blow-dryed and it's cold, so it frizzed out. Majorly. Like the wig that Normal Bates used to put on to pretend to be his mom in Psycho. I'm not posting any pictures; it just simply hits too darn close to home. Google your own darn pictures of her wig and laugh all you want. I'm preserving the little dignity I can, here. Consolation: Um...My hair was...washed (emphatic nodding) and...I used...sulfate free shampoo...That smells really good...?

You know, I'm going to stop pretending: I finally have some time to myself and I hate to say it, but nothing truly eventful happened in this day. Now I'm hearing  in my head all those Miracle Mouths being all, "What?! But every DAY is a miracle!" Yes; that's true. I also believe that every Mass is Heaven on Earth but there is also life-reality in that because, thinking of every single thing so profoundly has to be funny at some point (at least in my life). And speaking of THAT, this makes me think that almost every time we are at Mass, it is always MY kids that are walking out of the bathroom completely naked saying, "Come and CLEAN MY TUSHIEEEE!!" Or it's MY kids that are throwing tantrums so big, I've already been asked not thrice but FOUR times if my son has seizures...Or why my second son (Faux-Seizure-Child) has to shake his head emphatically, psychotically in back and forth, right after Communion. (NO, he does not have seizures or is autistic so stop even thinking to ask.) He's just crazy is all. Plus, he's seriously jiggling his brains around when he does this, so I'm guessing he's slushing things around in there too *shrug*. So mostly, my day was normal like that, and probably not much different to yours then.

Mostly right now, I'm just...grateful. Grateful for being married to this devoted man; grateful to have a roof over our heads that heats the people in it; grateful for the snow...Yes, even the snow. It's funny because, the snow stresses me out. It means that I'll be dressing kids for half and hour, just to send them outside for five minutes. It means mud in the house. It means kids crying in shock and horror that they can't understand why they can't feel their hands and fingers when they've been eating snow with them. It means it's pointless to shave my legs because I'll just keep getting goose bumps and the hair'll grow back right then and there. It means...more work. And yet, it's just so...beautiful. I'm grateful for its beauty and that we are given something so beautiful just because we live here. I love that it falls so silently and yet fills up sometimes feet, of space. Kind of like, proof that beautiful things grow even in silence. (Like Love and Truth and also, people.) Ugly things can too (like zits in baaad places or mean people's thoughts), but this kind of silent beauty overpowers all the bad kind.

And this part I have to whisper, I'm also *procrastinating*...It's just that...It's so far from here to the sink to brush my teeth...and then my face will get wet and I'll be cold. Then that'll force me into washing my face and thinking of all of that makes me tired. (God, I'm lazy.) The other ugly truth is, I'm writing to all of you, to *distract myself* (more secret whispering! I'm just FULL of mystery tonight!) from eating frozen yogurt. Yup. I have a problem. It's called, I-Eat-My-Emotions. And by that, I mean my emotions are like the love-child of Joan Rivers and Richard Simmons. First of all, eww, and second of all, that's pretty accurate. This isn't like, when those "people" say, "Oh, I SUCK at Math!" and then proceed to explain the concept of imaginary numbers to me. Or those women that say, "I'm baaad with self-discipline" but then can cut themselves off and are like feigning, "I'm SO full!" This is like, I have to trick myself into thinking I'm full because dudes, I could seriously eat myself into a coma. I've conquered it before, and I'll get there again. It's all about discipline, and mentality, and all that jazz. It's always about hitting that "rock bottom" where suddenly things don't fit and you've walked by a mirror and have about had a heart attack because you thought a fat man was hiding in the bathroom and chasing you instead of a reflection...Not that that's...ever happened to me...And then it's time to do something. I hate to say it, but pregnancy totally messes with us Overeaters, as does nursing. It's not all, "Oh wow! Now I"m burning extra calories, losing weight, and feeling great!" Instead it's like, "SUHWEET! Now I can eat FIVE HUNDRED more calories mwamwamwahaha!" *insert maniacal fat-man voice laughter*.  I tell you, these past few years have been a seriously humble walk and it's hard to realize I've completely lost my figure. But...I think that while I struggle a lot with this issue right now, I really know I'll overcome it. It won't necessarily be easier but for sure, it'll get better (see how I connected the two...posts?...No??...Oh... (And by the way...I know frozen yogurt isn't all that unhealthy...it's not that. It's the STUFF I want to put ON the frozen yogurt...You know, like bananas and pistachios...and fudge and chocolate chips...Yeah. I have to stop typing about it. DRINK WATER, NOW, Nicole. NOW.)

Alright alright...let's talk about..."Mom's Groups." I'm terrified of them. They too, stress me out. I'm joining one tomorrow and I feel like it will look like this:

And I'll look like this:

And my kids will be like this:

It could happen. It might happen. The worst part is, the preparation. I'm trying to talk myself into washing myself an outfit for tomorrow so I can look "normal" instead of, you know, wearing granny-capris and a t-shirt but then the rebel in me says, "You shouldn't have to wash a fancy outfit to feel you fit in!" But then the logical part of me is like, "Reality check: Self, if I didn't have to be you, I'd be embarrassed by your schlubiness**. WEAR a cute damn outfit." Okay, okay. I'll wash one. But...there's spiders in the basement...where the washer and dryer are...FINE. I'll go but, if I get caught in a web by Creepo and his Minions, it's alll on YOU, my friends. 

Lastly, I just want to end this by sharing with you all that, when you search for pictures under, "kids misbehaving", you get this:

Apparently, my sound was turned way up and also apparently, when you go the the national geographic-type website, there's actual elephant sounds you can hear while they're uh...pro-creating. It was so loud it woke up Husband. He looked all around frantically (as if there was some burglar breaking through the window, trumpeting like a humping elephant) and slurred, "Wawawahaat's going on?!?" I turned it down quickly and said, "Oh honey, it's just two elephants humpin' it up. Go back to bed." He looked right at me with his not-really-awake-eyes and nodded and said, "Wow. They were reeeeally doin', it huh?" and went right back to snoring. Nice. And with that, I bid you adieu! 

Love, Hugs, & Other (healthy) Drugs...you know, like VITAMINS.

*Damnage: yes; I meant it as "damn-age" get it? See? I really can be funny but though it was just NOT funny and that I couldn't spell.

**Schlubiness: derives from "schlub" which is a made-up word from my husband or possibly his East Coast family meaning slobby in the worst way. I, am often a Schlub.