My Wish

It has been several years since anyone has put candles on my birthday cake. I don't remember the last birthday on which I blew the candles out on my cake. Gone are the days of wishing for Strawberry Shortcake Dolls, Barbies, Pepe' Jeans or for some silly Jr. High boy to be "in love" with me. Although there aren't any candles on the cake (a great idea since the multitude of candles might start a prairie fire on a windy day out here), I still make a little wish. My wish isn't for a new car, a pedicure, great wealth or new clothes. All of those would be wonderful, but they are just material things.

Somewhere along the way, probably around the time I was married, my wish be came simple. My wish is for an average day. A day that my children are playing. A day that my husband kisses me good morning and good night. A day that my dog still barks at a stranger pulling into our driveway. A day that is filled with unplanned happenings. A day that I am just me living my life. At the end of that day, no matter how crazy or normal it is, my family is healthy and safe. A day that I can thank God for watching over us.

Today I have been so greatly blessed with birthday wishes, from my daycare families to my "friends" on Facebook to my three sweet, wonderful children. Today I am ok with being average. As I celebrate tonight, I will make another wish. A wish for another average year in my average life. And if I do, by chance, receive any monetary gifts, I may use it on a pedicure. Isn't that what the average Super Mom would do?

The Weight on My Shoulders

If I were to create a "To Do" list, I don't think it would ever end. Between my childcare business and being a wife and mother, I am swamped with things to do. I am a multi-tasking monster! Taking time for myself is rare. I have spent the last six years worrying more about everyone else than myself. And is shows. It is reflected in my eating habits and... my weight.

I was NEVER small. I learned some bad eating habits when I was younger and I've been fighting to change them my entire life. Today I am almost 60 lbs. overweight. The smallest I've been since high school is a size 12, about three and a half years ago. I've been on a roller coaster ride with my weight. I need to take control before my children learn these bad habits from me.

So onward I go. I'm going to pull myself up by my bootstraps and take control. I'm going to get this weight off my shoulders once and for all!

No way! Not Me!

I did not sleep in until almost 9am on Saturday morning, even though I knew I had a visitor coming. No, Not Me! And when I did finally drag myself out of bed I did not bounce around the house in a wild cleaning frenzy, even though said visitor (my BFF since Kindergarten) told me not to. Nope, Not Me! Also, I was not so darn busy doing "damage contol" that I forgot to feed my chlidren their breakfast. And I didn't let them watch TV during this wild frenzy, either. It was so Not Me!

My manic mind is so full of things I didn't do on Saturday, that I can't remember what I didn't do every day before that... or what I did do, for that matter. Didn't I what? Did I do that? No way! Not Me!

(Oh, and I did not refuse to cook on Mother's Day and enjoy it. I would never use any excuse like that to wiggle free from the kitchen. So Not Me!)

The Daycare Diaries: How Did I Get Here?

I care for up to ten children at one time. Three of those are mine. I have a daycare in my home. I am business owner, a childcare provider. I work at least 60 hours each week. I change diapers, wipe noses, and bandage boo-boos. (Yes, I bandage those that aren't real, too.) I provide two meals and two snacks each day. I rock babies, play games, plan activities and comfort children. I am their "second mom".

I never imagined myself as a childcare provider, much less a parent running a childcare program in my own home. In college, I majored in business administration with an emphasis in marketing. After college, I worked in the buying department for a major junior clothing retailer. Then I moved with my soon-to-be husband, a farmer, to a rural area in the midwest. I had a job as an office manager. It seemed I was following my dreams. I was working, paying off my college debt and happily married.

So how did I get here? We had a baby. We needed childcare. The childcare provider that I found didn't fit our scheduling needs. The next provider I found didn't fit our standards. I had another baby. I quit my job to have more time with my children only to find myself working for a childcare center. Eventually, I realized that the only person who met my standards was me. I decided that I would create my own program and offer it to other parents who were looking for quality a childcare program. Three years (and one more baby!) later, I have a waiting list of potential clients.

So here I am. I am a childcare provider.

My Baby is Not a Baby Anymore

I have three children. Six, Four, Two. Boy, Girl, Boy. When I kiss and hug my youngest son I always say, "Love you, Baby!"

He always replies, "Love you, Baby" or "Love you, Mom".

Today I was tucking him in for a nap and I said those words to him, "Love you, Baby."

He said, "No, Mom! Not ME baby!" and curled his bottom lip out in a sweet little pout.

I don't know where those two years, four months and seventeen days went!

We don't plan on having any more children. I've recently been asked by several people, "When are you having another baby?" Or, "Aren't you having any more kids?"

Really? Three isn't enough?

My husband only planned on two. I feel fortunate to have convinced him that three was a good number. (In all honesty, I would be happy with four. Please don't tell him!) I think my window of opportunity for making that happen has passed. Six straight years of buying diapers has taken its toll on me.

Still...

I love babies.

*sigh*

It may take me some time to get used to this.

It Was Definately Not Me!

In honor of MckMama's Not Me! Monday , I'm starting my own Not Me posting. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week. Since I am a newbie in the blog world, I must first tell you that did not link my entire blog to MckMama's sight, rather that just this post. That was definately Not Me!

I would never let my two-year-old eat fruit snacks for breakfast, especially on a Monday morning. Nope, definately Not Me!

I don't know who would tell their husband they were going shopping with a friend and then "accidently" go to a wine and jazz festival instead. Certainly, most definately Not Me!