How guilty is your conscience? I have a fairly guilty one. It keeps me in check. I confess misdoings, miscommunications, mistakes, etc. And I usually blurt out my confession with little-to-no prodding. It's really annoying. 

I wrote a long time ago about my compulsion to project honesty in an article I called "Impulsively Mean." Basically that article says that I speak the truth - sometimes it's not what you want to hear, sometimes its a useless truth. Most of the crap I confess is stupid, pointless junk. But I have to always have a clean conscious. If I feel dirty or tarnished in any way, I will clear the air. 

I was going through pictures and videos yesterday and found a gem. 

*This is the article I was beginning to write as this year's Mother's Day post.

I became a Mom early one morning in December 2007. It was the scariest morning. I didn't sleep a wink the night before. I had a scheduled c-section and was told to be at the hospital at 5am to prep for the operation. I cried when I heard my baby for the first time... I hadn't yet laid eyes on her, but I could hear her. When the doc held her up over the blue sterile curtain, I could see only her little hands. I fell completely in love instantly. --- Although I believe I may have had a bit of post-pardum depression. I realized this when it took me a few days before I would have killed to protect her. 

Fast forward 2 years. 

Buddy was different. We had a scheduled c-section for him also. It was on the calendar for February 2010. But he decided to join our family in the middle of January.

I was terrified - this time for different reasons. With Rea, the fear was of the unknown, hoping all would go according to plan, just being scared about the surgery in general. Nothing super specific. But because Buddy was nearly 6 weeks early, I was terrified about his health, his chances, his life. When I was at the hospital for Rea, my fears were selfish. My fears were centered on me. Two years of being a Mom had shifted my focus. I wasn't thinking about me. I was a nervous wreck for the tiny human I hadn't even met yet. 

I'm not going to get into Buddy's birth, if you want to read about it, click here. 

This is not about Buddy. Well, not him alone. 

I am in love with both of my monsters. They are so incredible. They are the coolest kids I know. And I think they are on their way to being pretty rad grown ups. I really am grateful to be their Momma. 

I was going to write a great post about the time I became a Mom, about what a blessed event that was, and how everyday I thank the Lord he sent me these two precious humans. 

But I erased it. Because as I am typing this, I am being yelled at from another room about Lunchables. Yes, that disgusting, prepackaged garbage they sell at Publix. My oldest, most precious daughter is screaming about how horrible I am because I will only let her eat ONE of the chicken nugget Lunchables - the pizza ones she LOVED last week are no longer her favorite, she simply MUST eat the ones her brother likes. 

The backstory is that last week, Rea ate ALL of the chicken nugget Lunchables we had in the fridge. Buddy cannot eat the pizza ones (food allergies, has few options). Buddy freaked out when he went to grab one. Lots of crying. He told me to get more, but this time to hide them from Rea. I think he may have been onto something. 

So, here I sit - Only a half hour after opening up awesome home-made gifts from the kids - wishing it was bedtime. 

Happy Mother's Day everyone! 

Ok, maybe not ever. I mean, we have had some really great times at the Walt Disney World Resort in Florida. I could spend days talking about some of our past trips, and I could share literally thousands of StuCrew pics from WDW. But I won't. This is not about that. It's about me and Rea.