One of those moments

Today I experienced one of those moments where for just a split second, I couldn't believe where life has taken us. It was short, lasting less than a full minute, but oh-so-sweet. 

I was prepping for Chad and my pasta dinner by chopping up the goods, Carter was eating his little tot-sized dinner and Kota was satisfied in her exersaucer. As I was cutting the onions, my eyes started to water so I backed off from the counter for a second, shutting them to try to stop the burn. After a few seconds of me standing there in all my shut-eyed glory, I realized that we were all three existing in complete, sweet, happy silence, each of us inundated with the separate things that we were doing. 

I was chopping. Carter was examining his food with great intensity. Kota was calmly going for a world record in teething-toy-brutalization with those uncomfortable gums of hers.

I took a look around at the madness that had become the kitchen and had this thought exactly:

I love the chaos that is raising these two babies. I LOVE IT. Carter ramming the back of the couch with his push-along choo-choo from his early walking days, Kota clawing the left side of my face off with her perpetually overgrown fingernails, the two of them laughing it up like hyenas simply because Boomer walked by. It's wonderful. Unbelievably wonderful. 

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Completely unrelated, another kind of profound thing happened today, also. 

We have this little Bible book for Carter, and when we were at Target the other day he asked if he could get the "brother" book, which is a sort of how-to on praying for babes. I read it to him for the first time today right before his nap, and came across a prayer for patience and compassion. I realized that in that exact moment, I needed to pray for more patience. 

The half hour before nap time is by no means my favorite time of day. I genuinely get angry at how long it takes to settle Carter in for his daily snooze, sometimes resorting to yelling like someone who has a teenager instead of a two-and-a-half-year-old. The way I rationalize the rise in octaves is by thinking, It's okay, I never yell, so this will really sink in this time. 

Anyway, it got me thinking. God puts things like pre-nap time book reading sessions revolving around prayer in your life for a reason, and today the message couldn't have been more clear. So cheers to a calm day thanks to none other than the Big Man upstairs!

Oh, the inspiration

The house is quiet, the laundry is running and I'm devouring a slice of cake.

I can't think of a better way to spend these sacred moments of silent bliss than to rack through the wonderfulness that is pinterest.

Ahh, the joys...

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When Chad and I heave-ho out of this transitional living situation (in a few short weeks . . . Can you hear the choir of angels heralding?), this amazingness is either going to be gracing Kota's nursery or the play room. Well, if there is a play room, that is.


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If I didn't see myself botching those pretty poofs of delight so severely, they would be hanging over her crib, too.


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...and in a few short years, this is what I have to look forward to... Tear!


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Lastly, Chad doesn't know it yet, but we're also going to be painting Kot's crib this color come the new house situation. Yep, we are...

And I can't forget about Carts! Basically, this is what his room is going to be looking like, thanks to her fabulous expertise...




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ALLELUIA! ALLELUIA! ALLELUIA!
Beautiful, I tell you, beautiful!

Anyway, moving on from the babes, I would really appreciate it if Fall could just hurry on up so I can pretend to be good at things like...

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THAT. Or wear things like...


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THIS.

Anyway, Fall also brings back

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my favorite beyond favorite show, which can be watched after attending my newest obsession, Stroller Strides, where I will be wearing an outfit no less cute than


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...the likes of those.

Anyway! I'd love to keep racketeering, but the couch is calling my name so . . . You know what that means!
Real Housewives of New Jersey, baby!

The kids and I

Alright, obvious title, as that is the crux of my life during America's working hours, but I feel like I need to document the new plateau we have reached. It's the three of us. The three amigos, ying-yang-and-yong (?), compadres till the end. I don't know how to put it exactly, but somewhere between the potty training and insane amount of size 2 diapers lying on our dresser, the three of us have learned to just gel. A few months ago, I'll admit that it was either Carter-and-I + the baby, or Kota-and-I + Carter. Never a threesome, but rather a I can't give you both my full attention, so I need to focus on one but try my best not to leave-out the other sort of thing. Does that make sense?

Anyway, the combination of Chadly's new work day responsibilities (proud wife!) and my new status as a full-time stay-at-homer has led to this most pleasant of realities. Now Chad comes home to three people who have been letting down their hair in all that is domestic, something which has been quite enjoyable, to the surprise of moi. For example, today there was not one dish left in the sink. I KNOW! In fact, amongst the dishless kitchen, we made a cake. AND I made the world's most delicious batch of baby food (okay, I have to share this one: carrots, broccoli, butter, salt and garlic seasoning. OH. MY. GOSH). For some reason, reveling in such activities brings about a sense of balance and joy, instead of an I'm-about-to-pull-my-hair-out by the end of the day type of thing. 

Who knows what it is about calmly moving throughout the day that creates such cohesiveness! 

Anyway, another big development in three-amigo-land is this new active level of fun-having by the youngest C's. Carter has always sort of laughed and played with Kota and she would always laugh back and look intrigued, but now it's a two way street! They both just giggle it up all day long! The car is the best. All of a sudden I'll look in the rear view mirror and there's Carter, making funny faces at the baby! Yes! And she's only seven months old! 

In my opinion, the only direction we can go is up in the sibling camaraderie department, further affirming my thoughts that bangin' out the two was the right thing to do for us. 

Anyway, it has been nice. Very nice, in fact.

Now I'm going to go sprits myself with Skinnygirl's sangria and wait for Chadly to finish up his football draft tomfoolery. Oh yeah, it's that time of year again. 

Yay?

The smile comprised of clenched teeth

It's a rarity when Chad and I are the ones to push each other's buttons.

He never really bugs me and I never really bug him. It's just the way it is with us two. When we were dating I thought that something was majorly wrong with us because we never really fought. In fact, when the brewskies were flowing, I actually tried to pick fights with him because . . . well, I have no idea why, but it never worked because Chad would calmly say something along the lines of, "Okay, so what is this whole argument about, anyway?" A question I never had an answer for because my fight-pickin' was always so shallow. Luckily those ridiculous outburst were far and few between, since beer and the like seemed to bring out the giggly, beer pong champions that made up Chad-and-Nicole. Looking back, it kind of makes me laugh, but my mom told me that if a couple never fights, it might be because they are not communicating.

So when we got married, my number one priority (and still is) was to make sure that we communicated like pros. For a few months there, it was sort of hilarious because if Chad was quiet one night for whatever reason, I would always say something like, "Okay, babe, what's going on? I know you're thinking about something, you handsome dog! Come on, tell the ole' wife!" . . . in so many words.

But anyway, the other night I actually pushed buttons. Actually, I pushed THE button.

Chad had had the world's longest day at work and, after we ate dinner, had to finish up this test-like thing for the next day. Well, I decided that it was of the utmost importance to tell him about my newest plan for our near future before he embarked upon his late night work thing, but it was more of a one sided conversation since his mind was elsewhere. Well, APPARENTLY this was not okay with me, a fact which I vigorously informed him of. So there we were, calmly pushing our own points: me, that I was right and that we better hop-to on my plan, him, that he did not want to be talking about it at that moment. 

After fifteen minutes of our composed, weird argument, I looked at him and saw that his eyes were boring into my soul, his hands were neatly stacked one on top of the other and that he was wearing THE SMILE.

The smile he described to me when explaining how his boss had played a joke on him, telling him that he had actually been demoted instead of promoted. 

It was the smile comprised of CLENCHED TEETH!

Clenched teeth! 

Oh man, I knew I had pushed too far. In fact, I think my eyes widened by the mere sight of it! Quickly following the incident, he told me that he needed to go fill his car up with gas. What? Um, okay . . . Since when do us Cisneros's fill up our cars at 9:30 at night? Since when do we argue poignantly enough to warrant THE SMILE?! It was crazy town around these parts!

Anyway, after he returned from the gas trip, went to bed, woke up before me and returned to my lovely stir fry last night, he told me that the pit of his day was feeling bad about how mad he had gotten the night before. Then I told him how I could have taken it easy on him, considering he was trying to get some work done. 

So then we laughed, because we are hilarious. 

Isn't that just funny? It's like, when we do actually argue, we have no idea what to do with ourselves! We are awkward arguers! Anyway, in my opinion, it's not too shabby of a problem to have, but I had to document the occurrence of THE SMILE!

I wish I was...

I'm one of those people who uses this statement quite often:

"Seriously, wouldn't that be so cool if I . . . . Don't worry, babe, I'll look into that. I'm sure it wouldn't be too difficult to make happen!"

But the thing is, Chad is NOT worried about whatever fills in that blank. I mean, not anymore, I'm sure. Maybe at one point in our magical lives together he used to heed such words, but now they probably just fall flat on the floor. He's probably trained his mind to not even hear them. Or maybe the syllables resemble that of an annoying fly? I don't know. Either way, here was the latest seriously, I've got to make this happen thought:

To become the master of all photo editors.

Really. For quite some time I've had this thought, and there have been multiple occasions where I have truly thought about starting a blog comprised only of my outrageously wonderfully edited pictures with pops of wild colors everywhere. But when I really think about it, when the heck would I have time to execute such an undertaking? The minimal amount of editing I do for my pictures on this blog takes me entire nap time sessions, so when the heck was I thinking I could make an entire blog out of the same process (an entire successful blog, which, in my head, was the key word)? But about 5 minutes ago, I was about to sit down at this here computer to begin what would surely be the mother of all editing sessions!

Anyway, here are other frequent thoughts that, while in the moment, I'm totally serious about:

The ever pleasant fashion blogger.
I kid you not, I really wish that I was some trend-setting fashion blogger. Oh yes, I'm serious. (Says the girl who's hair has not been washed in three days, just dug out her white shorts from the depths of the laundry basket AND who would laugh like a hyena when forcing my husband to take my "fashion" pictures.)

The I-used-to-not-be-able-to-cook-so-if-I-can-learn-you-can-learn-too cook book creator.
Yeah, I know.

The I want to touch every corner of the globe with my own two feet planner.
Chad has told me many times that it would actually just be easier if I made a list of places I don't want to go, so that way we would be able to narrow down our next vacation destination easier.

The how-hard-can-it-really-be-to-start-your-own-dress-line gal.
Oh, I looked into this, let me tell YOU. I like to sew in straight lines, so naturally I need a dress line.

Anyway, that's all I can think of right now, but rest assured, there are millions more thoughts just like those milling around up there. Anywho, cheers to diversifying your interests!
(That's reason to "cheers," right? I know Chad would agree! . . . Right, babe! . . . ?)

Some weird fitness thoughts

Okay, so you know how people are always all stoked on some fitness trend or fad and then out of no where, completely loses interest? Well, I guess bodies and mentalities work in two week loops. Two weeks of awesomeness, then two weeks of horridness. Anyway, I think I hit a mellow sort of horridness, as walking my butt off sort of took a backseat to more important endeavors, such as lying on the couch.

Lying on the couch watching others perform outrageous feats, like manhandling uneven bars.

Not to worry, though, because apparently my sense of awesomeness in the fitness realm did not wane in the least when it came to telling certain men in my life what to do with their fitness regimens. Poor husband. Poor, poor husband. I wonder if it was obvious from my text messages that I was basically shewing him out the door to hit the pavement before he had even walked in the door from work. Aren't I a sweet wife?

Anyway, in a matter completely unrelated to my slovenly ways, I have a sad sort of announcement:

tomorrow is my last day at my beloved Purebarre!

Just one more measly class then I'm done for good, officially a stay-at-homer. It makes me sad because I genuinely love my Purebarre people! What am I going to do now that I won't be able to hear anymore about Anne's neighborly woes?! Who will listen to the debacle of how much a new homeowner should spend on landscape versus decor?! Truly, TRULY, it is a sadness.

But on the other hand, I'm super excited to not have to worry about the madness that is getting both kids ready just for a few hours of me heading to work (come hell or high water), to basically break even at the end of the day. It's too far a drive, one which doesn't warrant the small amount of hours I was working. 

Speaking of how small the amount of hours were, I don't think it matters how little or how much one works, it's just the fact that there's a commitment outside of the home that causes a sense of good, positive stress. Does that make sense? I don't know. I actually like having something going on outside of my little family, making the fact that I'm severing my remaining tie to the outside world all the more scary. It feels like I'm looking out over an abyss of nothingness, even though I'm perfectly aware of how absurd that is!

Moving on from that point though (anyone still there?), but still remaining within the topic of ties to the outside world, it's so, so, so, so, so, so, so, SO important to really make the effort to get out there and form relationships with people who are in the same world as you are - and who are not just in your family! I know, I know: obvious statement of the year, but seriously! Not only does it show your kids how to hang out in a group, but it's always a good time for you, which (let's face it), is the most important thing in the world. (Just kidding! But really.)

Anyway, of course Purebarre always gave me that outlet, and before/during my time there we were always doing some sort of mommy and me group and/or hanging with my other mama friends or with the sister and my niece, but now that we live out here in no-man's-land, I was majorly lacking a sense of cool lady friends WITHOUT having to make a 45 minute drive back to our old stomping grounds. 

All of which brought me to today's adventure: the kiddos and I went to Stroller Strides! Yes! We did and it was darn awesome. I was one of those women you see alongside the road doing awkward squats with a stroller in a large group. It's okay, no need to be nice . . . before I had kids I always thought that was sort of lame in a cruel and insensitive sort of way, but holy guacamole. I died plenty an early death while on that roadside. Literally. My muscles died. I died. It was hard as all getup, but the most awesome part about it was that we were out-and-about with some funny women.

So here's a recap: I hit a lull in the hubby and mine's walking regimen (yet still forced him not to lose steam like the Bossy-McBosster that I am), am on the brink of becoming a full time stay-at-home-mamacita (even though I have a totally cool thing going on, but don't want to say anything until it's written in cement as not to jinx it!), and last, but certainly not least, got an unlimited monthly package to Stroller Strides!

So woohooo!

Me. During nap time. In the summer.

Now, listen.

There are sites around these here parts which can get a gal sort of pumped, ya dig?

Especially when that gal is a mom. Of two sleeping babies. One of which who is threatening to wake up any moment, making her all jumpy and whatnot. So the over-the-shoulder glances are not so far and few between, understand? Anyway, such situation has resulted in some massive photo tweaking on one of those sites due to one of those bouts of over confidence in the I-can-so-edit-my-iPhone-pics department. You know what I mean.

Anyway, it's been fun, but my final glance-over-the-shoulder has resulted in the finding of a certain two-and-a-half year old staring me down from the banister. 

So cheers to entertaining myself and to that big hunk of burning love right there pouring those glasses of champagne!

SO, SO, SO, SO, SO, SO, SO PROUD OF YOU MY LOVE!