You want a good cry, watch a Disney Movie

I love Disney. I love everything about it. The magic, the wonder, the movies, the characters, the excitement, the high prices to visit their parks and resorts (ok I don’t love that part), but Disney is wonderful. I have seen probably every Disney movie (multiple times). Some movies I love, some I do not. I’m going to give you my expert opinion on each movie. Why? Because why not?

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No matter how hard I try, my house always seems a mess

I write myself to-do lists all the freakin’ time. I’ll be honest…I love writing lists and then crossing the chores I have listed off one by one when I finish them. Sometimes I even write chores that are done on my list, just to cross them off. I wonder if Santa gets the same satisfaction as I do when I cross things off a list? I really do not enjoy cleaning. However, once I start to clean or organize I get on a roll and I accomplish a lot. It’s just getting me to do it. 

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Bad Moms Night Out

So my friends and I decided to get a room in AC and go out for a night on the town. We called it our “Bad Moms Night Out”. Oh how times have changed. When I first arrived at the hotel, I immediately face-timed by baby (yes he is that advanced and knows how to work the phone lol). My husband then yelled at me and said he had everything under control and not to worry. I still texted more than I should have. Now it was time to get ready. What I noticed about myself when I was getting ready is that I really don’t care what the end product looks like. Ok, I do a bit. I want to look pretty but I don’t care as much because I have no one to impress. My husband wasn’t with me and I’m not trying to find a guy or look better than the girls around me because I’m a 31 year old mom. It is what it is.

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How’d I get so lucky?…Happy Birthday Matt!

Haha. A gift.

Today’s my husband’s birthday. It made me think about a few things as I watched him lay in bed as I got up for work because he’s off today. (Our spring breaks didn’t line up, but that’s ok I’m off next week.) It made me think about everything my husband actually does for my family. I feel like I’m the typical nagging wife. I constantly complain about how he leaves his crap everywhere (though he has gotten better since I threatened I was going to just start throwing shit away if it was in my way) but that’s really the worse thing about him. He’s messy. Seriously, the only thing I really complain about when it comes to him. Well except that I birth Fin faster than he does his bathroom business but I think that’s how every wife feels about their husband. Now I’m going to get a little sentimental in this post, so bare with me.

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Job requirements for being a parent

Personally, I think there should be job requirements for being a parent. No, I’m not judging the way anyone parents. As the young folk say, “You have to do you.” But I think that if you want to become a parent you need to know what it involves. Some couples have an unexpected pregnancy. They don’t plan for a baby. But God chose you to carry this baby. Therefore, you need to fulfill the same job requirements as those who planned for their baby.
And some women aren’t as lucky. They don’t just sneeze and become pregnant. They have to fight to have their baby. These women have to go through treatment after treatment just to conceive their precious gift from God. As a parent, your ultimate responsibility is to be there and care for your child no matter what! It’s a lifetime commitment. Not everyone is suited for parenthood.

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Raise your hand if your favorite job is being a mother!

 I’ve had many jobs in my life. I’ve worked at a candy shop on the boardwalk. And yes, here and there I would say, “Whoops, a piece of dark chocolate just popped in my mouth.” I have worked at a grocery store. And yes, I would shut my register light off and run to the bathroom when the old people bus would roll up. I worked for my dad one summer…well more like played snood on the computer and ate watermelon.

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Pump Your Fists, Pump Your Gas, Pump Your Milk…

So in the great state of NJ a lot of people pump their fists (I’ll admit I pump my fists when I’m out of the state), we don’t have to pump our gas, but a lot of women do pump their milk. Me being one of them! I have been an exclusive pumper since Fin turned about 6 months old. He started to refuse the boob. Not sure why. Fin is the type of kid that knows what he wants, does things when he is ready and on his own terms, and tells (babbles) you how it is. Hmm it reminds me of someone I know? Wink. I don’t really mind pumping, however, I feel my entire day revolves around when I have to pump. My famous last words are always “then I have to pump” or “I have to pump soon” or “OMG I have to pump”.

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