We Signed up for This

When I was in college, a sweet roommate of mine taught me an incredibly valuable lesson. I remember I was having a difficult time of some sort (everything seems to be a tragedy when you're in your early twenties), and in a moment of frustration, I yelled out in our apartment one day, "I never signed up for this!"

"Sure you did," she smiled at me.

It was one of those beautiful moments where my big mouth didn't have a thing to say; I knew she was right.

I've been thinking about her a lot this last month. We're presently in a rather uncomfortable unemployment situation for my husband (a story best avoided online), and I'm once again in the ranks of writers begging to write for $1 per 10,000-word story. I've been a little distracted lately, which is part of why this blog is again faltering.

After my husband left for another interview this morning, I found myself coping with a baby who's trying to steal the "Mayhem" title from that Allstate or Geico commercial, nasty colds that have taken over the house for the fourth time this winter, and more than a little anger when Mr. Mayhem dropped a can of corn on my pinky toe and I almost peed myself because of how badly it stung.

I started thinking again that this was not what I signed up for, and my roommate's words came back to mind. I exhaled, and 10 years later have been reminded again that she's still right. I became an adult, a wife and a mother, and sometimes, unemployment, Mayhem babies, colds, too much laundry, and lots of struggles are just part of the deal.

"It's supposed to be hard. If it wasn't hard, everyone would do it. The 'hard' is what makes it great."
~Tom Hanks, A League of Their Own

Is that how it's done?

This morning, Jackson told me he'd drawn a picture of the two of us "making love," and it actually caused me to choke on my breakfast.

I learned a lesson on perspective when I saw that the drawing was just of the two of us taking a walk and holding hands while hearts floated over our heads.

Toddler in a Small Pond

I'm convinced that children are cute in public because they never know when they've pushed too far at home and will need alternate living arrangements.

Today, Matthias learned that pencils will, indeed, write under water. He tried it in our toilet. My husband wondered why he caught the baby with a wet pencil this afternoon, but never pursued the answer to his question very seriously.

Turns out, we need a little more seriousness when it comes to answering questions regarding Mr. Matthias. He'd been upstairs alone for a few minutes today and we really should have remembered that "quiet" + "children" never equals anything pretty.

So, our toilet bowl is scratched. These toilets haven't gotten so much love from us since we moved in to this apartment. Baking soda, Clorox, CLR. Our ocean Picasso ain't coming all the way off, people.

Make room, Grandma and Grandpa. This little angel you keep cooing to me about is coming over.