Saturday Love

Being a full-time mother is one of the highest salaried jobs in my field, since the payment is pure love. ~Mildred B. Vermont

Saturdays are my favorite days. Aside from having the day off from work, its a day that I get to spend entirely with this guy:
That's right, my heart- well, a big ol' chunk of it- belongs to a two foot tall, pot bellied little boy. While I always wanted kids, I never realistically thought about it. I never sat down and said "okay, I want kids now". This Monkey was a surprise- to say the least.

I grew up quick when I realized he was coming (well, after two home pregnancy tests, panic attacks, sleepless nights, and tear-dropped tissues). I had to. And looking back, I'm thankful for it. Before him, I didn't think about anyone much other than myself. I had friends, and I loved my husband- then boyfriend. But kids are different. They depend on you entirely, completely. Even more so for the mother. I was the one that had to keep him safe and warm and fed from the get-go of existence. While its a magical thing, its a lot of pressure. Especially for a girl that considered a 7-11 Slurpee and leftover Subway cookies a balanced dinner (calm down, Mother). I had to change my ways, and immediately.

Now, Monkey is a year and a half old (18 months for those seriously counting), and I am very different from that girl who had the oops pregnancy. I have wipes in my purse and the backseat of my car has been taken over by toys. The living room of our house is rearranged just so, because Monkey likes to go where he isn't supposed to. My clothes are bigger than they once were, because my ass and tummy are bigger too. We have gates and diaper genies and a shelf in our cupboard full of baby-approved food. Now, instead of listening to rock or country or pop music at home, I listen to Disney songs or the Laurie Berkner Band (great CD by the way, for those with little ones). I have Blue's Clues memorized. I do anything to make my little boy laugh. And by anything, I mean dance, make funny faces, let him "cook" with all of the pots and pans, eat all my food, take my cup, sit in my chair, blow raspberries on his tummy, tickle, swing, carry, jump, cuddle...........

And you know what? My days are now full because of him. I'm exhausted, but I'm happy.

Monkey looks good in pretty much anything!