A Love Story

Well, it's been another week and you know what I learned?

A lot of things.

You know what I'm going to share right now?

Probably none of them. I'm tired. :)

Oh, but I will share this - - I learned that if I were a single mom I would have the cleanest house in the world.

JC went hunting last Thursday, rejoining us Saturday night. I missed him. With my kids in bed (Luckily, they were pretty cooperative) and nobody to share my evenings with, I moved my attention on to the next thing on my list of things that I love...having a clean house. Seriously. My house gets messy because life happens. It stays messy because I have a wonderful husband I want to just be with at the end of the day. Take that out of the equation and ta-da! Midnight rolls around and I find myself very satisfied with a very clean house. It was nice. Don't think I'd make the trade permantly though. :)

My friend, Katie, introduced me to a children's recording artist named Laurie Berkner a while back. The kids and I love her songs. There is one that always gets stuck in my head. I walk around the house singing it all day. The kids eventually ask me to stop.

But, having missed JC while he was gone and, as always, finding myself pondering the journey that is our friendship and marriage, I dedicate the lyrics of this mentally ever-present song to him.

Enjoy some illustrations (and notice that while my different "faults" are displayed quite well, it appears JC only has one that is ever caught on camera...repeatedly falling asleep while taking care of the kids. And now that the whole sleep apnea thing is under control, that rarely happens anymore...hmmm...think he got the short end of the stick here...)

I'm not perfect.

(sink overflowing with dishes...)

No, I'm not.

(Stretch marks very apparent on a very pregnant-with-Ben belly. Are they as apparent now? No. Are they there? Absolutely.)

I'm not perfect...

(This is what I have looked like much of the time since beginning my baby-having about three and a half years ago. Sleep deprived, puffy, ponytail, pjs or sweats, pale from never seeing the sun, etc. But, that smile is real. Baby-having, as much as it contributes to my imperfection, contributes at least as much to my happiness. Also, look how sweet Baby James is, so tiny!)

but I've got what I've got!

I do my very best...

(decorating)

...do my very best...

(gardening...sort of)

...do my very best each day.

(mommy-ing)

But I'm not perfect...

(A line of laundry waiting to be done. I'm not gonna lie. This has happened more than once.)

and I hope you like me that way!

You're not perfect.

(zzzz...)

No, you're not.

(zzzzzzzz...)

You're not perfect...

(ZZZZZZZZZZZ....)

but you've got what you've got!

(This sexy, masked man is my freshly-(temporary)tattooed husband who took me to the Renaissance Festival for my birthday. By the way, is it obvious that I lead a rather sheltered life when I don't think I can even SPELL tattoo correctly? I am unsure and unmotivated to spell-check it. Forgive me.)

You do your very best...

(getting James started on Harry Potter at an early age/holding the baby so mommy can get a rest/appeasing mommy by taking up reading a little bit so she will stop trying to explain the entire plot and how the book is different from the movie)

...do your very best...

(the kids' favorite thing to do - - play Bingo with Dad)

...do your very best each day.

(grilling something fantastic. always is.)

But, you're not perfect...

(ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ....)

and I really like you that way!

Love you, honey. There's nobody I'd rather walk the quirky road of imperfection with.