Some people are addicts. There are internet addicts, Pinterest addicts, and Facebook addicts. I am a blog addict. Hello my name is Sheena, and I am a Blogaholic.
Why do I love blogging so much? I am not sure. I definately appreciate compliments on my blog. I love it when someone tells me they really got a kick out of something I wrote. I am also flattered when some random person, who I didn't think knew how to turn on a computer, tells me that they read my blog. But the biggest reason I like blogging is probably because I make myself laugh. Literally, I will be sitting here writing and totally crack myself up. As I writhe in fits of giggles, Wayne will calmly look over, sigh, and say, "What are you blogging about now?" If I really get going laughing, Wayne usually gets suspicious and asks to proof my post. This is bad news, because once I show him, he usually vetos the funniest ones. OK, he says they are a bit 'innapropriate' or 'embarrassing'. But at least I get to roll in the floor laughing for a while.
It is also theraputic for me to blog. On those rare days when Penelope decides to take a nap longer than an hour, I can be found making a cup of coffee and sitting down at my laptop. It is likely much cheaper than the shrink I will need after 4 more kids.
Now that I have picked myself up off the floor from laughing about that last sentence, I have several smaller subjects I have been meaning to blog about:
My husband does everything I tell him!!
Wayne is such a good husband he does exactly what I tell him! Case in point has to do with the cats: 1) I tell him the litter box is stinking up the laundry room - He moves the litter box to the garage. 2) I tell him the cats are going to make a mess in the house - He moves the litter box inside of the door. 3) I tell him the litter box doesn't allow the door to open all the way, thus not allowing easy access while carrying a car seat - he moves the litter box from behind the door to right in front of the door. 4) The litter box is just inside the door, so even though you might accidently step in the litter on your way in the house, the door does fully swing open. And he did everything I asked!
Sleeping Through the Night
I recently ready somewhere that according to the medical field, babies that sleep through the night are sleeping at least 5 hours non-stop. I don't know about you, but if I sleep 'through the night' I am going to sleep a whole lot longer than 5 hours. I'm talking pre-baby here, as my definitions for sleep, nighttime, rest, and sanity have recently changed. Babies are supposed to get around 15 hours of sleep per 24 hour period, and the medical field thinks that 5 at one time constitutes as an entire 'night'? Perhaps doctors need to start going to college for more than 8 years.
It all blends together
After I wrote my post about what is in a diaper, I realized that I didn't really know how or at one point the diaper got tangled with the bed sheets. Once I started thinking about it, I realized that most nights are a huge blur. On the weekends, Wayne and I will discuss at what time Penelope woke up, how many minutes she cried, when she nursed, etc. It will take a half hour trying to come up with the correct order of events and we still don't agree on the timeline.
This reminds me of an experience a couple years back. Relatives were staying with us with their three children. During the night, I awoke to a very loud thump, followed by the baby screaming. In the morning, I was relieved to find all three children unharmed, but still asked what happened. Both parents looked at me with blank expressions. I elaborated and told them how I heard what sounded like a baby falling out of bed onto the floor, followed by screaming. The dad had no recollection of the event at all. The mom said something like, "oh yeah, I think the baby was in the car seat sleeping still at that point, well, I'm not sure, maybe he was in bed with us. Yeah, I just picked him up and went back to sleep."
At the time I was horrifically flabbergasted that both parents would have vague recollections of the nights' events, when I was awakened with heart pounding in the next room. Now I can empathize - it really does all blend together.
Carry a big stick
Frequently while driving down our road, we see a man out walking. This isn't a big deal, but we have noticed that he is always carrying something. At first I thought it was a ski pole, or whatever those poles are people use while walking. A walking stick I guess, except he never really used it. He just carried it. Then I began noticing that it wasn't a walking stick at all, it was a golf club. It got to be somewhat of a highlight on the way to town. ("Look! It's the golf club guy!") We finally decided that this weird guy was paranoid either about cars running him off the road, or a very ferocious dog, and we gave him plenty of space as we drove by.
Just recently, however, we were driving and saw a woman pushing a stroller and carrying a baseball bat! No, we don't have a baseball field anywhere near us. So the mystery is still to be solved. And I am considering carrying a rifle when I go out walking. For what, I'm not sure, but there must be a really good (bad) reason.
I am glad you like blogging because I like laughing and your blogs always make me laugh. Every night Scott gets home and after he eats claims the computer til he goes to bed. I always say Sheena has a new blog, Scott eyes gleam and when he reads it laughs out loud and says this is good! I could never get him to read facebook except maybe to look at his sisters posts and pics. Thanks for blogging, it's better than jogging..which I can't do anyway.
ReplyDeleteWhew, this post makes me feel a little bit better about being the stalker-ish person that always comments on your blog. But your posts make me laugh, and I make Evan read them sometimes, and I'm glad you have the gumption to post frequently. I love blogging, too, although I have been bad about not posting as much as I used to. I will also admit that I get a self-satisfied smirk on my face when someone posts something about how they like what I wrote. And amen to the blurriness of the nights. The doctor would ask how many times the baby nursed in the middle of the night, and I would just stare blankly at her. As long as the baby and I were alive in the morning, I figured it was all good.
ReplyDeleteJust for the record, since I finally figured out how to comment on your posts, I find all of them wildly entertaining! I love reading them, and they are the highlight of my day, next to caffeine, and Laurel's smile. :) P is so, so cute! Thanks so much for keeping us in the loop, and allowing me to giggle at your fabulous life! xoxoxoxo Angela
ReplyDeleteI have this sneaking suspicion that the relatives who calmly let their child thump on the floor would be us. Not that I remember.... ;-)
ReplyDeleteAnd your posts do crack me up, so yay for blogaholics! And tell Wayne that censorship is SOOO last millennium. I want to see these embarrassing and inappropriate posts that are rolling on the floor funny. ;-)
And hey, I am interested in your prenatal video. But what is it? :-)