Let's be Bloggy BFFs'

I read a lot of blogs. I have no less than 15 blogs in my favorites. I love getting to know the blogger. *By the way, I totally stole the term bloggy bff from Ashley at Little Miss Momma* Many bloggers have recently shared odd/random facts about themselves. I'm following in their footsteps. Here are some tidbits about me. I hope you still like me later :)

My parenting style: Flexible loving yet we have set rules. Monkey is only 19 months so....

Last meal I cooked: Super yummy pot roast

Weirdest thing in my purse: Um... a Lego construction worker.

Craziest thing I've done while sleep-deprived: I poured the baby's formula into my coffee instead of my creamer.

Behavior I hope my son doesn't inherit from me: Eye-rolling...

Last thing my child did that made me laugh: I'm constantly laughing at him. He is so funny but tonight he wasn't paying attention while he was "brushing" his teeth and put his toothbrush in his nose. I took it away and he clapped.

My favorite baby gear. Boogie Wipes! They are great when he has a yucky nose.

The song that best describes my parenting experience thus far: In My Life by The Beatles

Kid's Show I can't stand: Max and Ruby.. Where are their parents?!?!? And why is Ruby so dang bossy?!

First Word that pops into my head when someone says mom: Joy

One of my favorite smell: Books. New or Used Library or Store. And baked goods

Food I can't stand: Green Beans. I hate them. I just recently stopped gagging whenever I smelled them. I'm always trying to get Monkey to eat them.


Now that you know more about me. Tell me more about you. Oh, and come back tomorrow for my first giveaway!!!!!

What matters most...

Tonight I read a blog that moved me to tears. I picked up a sleeping monkey and held him while I cried. It was the story of a darling baby girl that was born with Down Syndrome. The pain and love I felt in her mothers words sucker punched me in the heart. I'm still crying. I am so blessed that Monkey was born healthy and is healthy. I worry everyday about his development and health.

My biggest fear is that I'll do something wrong somehow and he'll pay the price for it. When I was pregnant with him, I had nightmares that the Tylenol I took would give him a third arm. Now it's will this harm him somehow? If I don't make him use a spoon will he become a messy lazy slob? He's not talking now....will this mean he'll be behind other kids in school? Does it mean there's something wrong? Is he getting enough sleep? Enough good food? Enough water?

What makes me snap out of this?

When he smiles at me, claps his hands or says "amama" and snuggles in for a kiss and a cuddle. In the moment, I just know I'm doing what is right and what is best for him and me. I love him and I am beyond blessed to be his "amama".

What happened to your eye Ms J?

You know what I love about kids? They are honest. Oh so honest. I hear it almost weekly. "Ms. J what's on your face?" or "Ms J what's that on your eye?" I have a standard answer for kids. "It's just a spot where my skin is red sort of like a freckle or mole. It's called a birthmark. It's not an owie and it doesn't hurt."

It hurts sometimes. When kids point and ask and their parents ignore them or dragg them away from me like I'm Frankenstien's monster. I'm a grown woman I'm USED to the comments and questions. I've been asked if I was in a fire or if I was in an accident.In high school, one kids asked if my parents had burned me with an iron. Jerk. I hated it when I was a kid. It drew attention to me when I wanted to be invisible. I begged my mom to buy me make up to cover it. She told me I didn't need it. She said I was pretty just the way I was. She told me different is gorgeous. I begged more and she took me to Dillard's make up counter and purchased the stupidly expensive cover up. It was thick and hard to put on. But it covered up my birthmark. I wore it to school the next day. My friends shrugged it off. The cute boys didn't notice and the pretty popular girls didn't suddenly want to be my friend. It didn't fix how I felt about myself.

When I arrived home that day, I stared at myself in the mirror willing the birthmark away, praying the cover up was better than it looked to me. I wore it a few more times. It felt false and thick on my skin, like a mask.

I've finally learned to embrace my birthmark. C likes it and sometimes Monkey will touch it when he's rubbing my face. It's just part of who I am. Without it I doubt I'd be the same person.