It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like....Christmas?

I love, love, LOVE organization! Now that I have 16 kids....what? I don't have 16 kids? Well, it feels like I do. Anyway, now that I have 4 kids (that can sometimes be 4 times as much work and feel like 16!), I'm an even bigger fan of organization. I love my lists, I adore planning, and my budget is my best friend. It's the only thing that keeps me sane with the chaos of juggling family, work, and home. Well, that and my 2 year pocket planner. (And to be fair, not even those three things are keeping me that sane. It's a very fine line.)

So it's a no brainer that I apply this love of organization to my other love....Christmas! Santa's not the only one making a list and checking it twice. Nope, I'm all about the lists baby! I love to plan out who I need to buy for, write down potential gift ideas, shop for bargains over the year and have all my shopping done by November so that I can actually slow down and enjoy the holidays for once. Plus, it takes the sting out of the pocketbook by spreading out the expenses over the course of 12 months instead of the 6 week frenzy all those non-organized people endure between November and December.

Well, that's the theory at least.

In reality, I cannot get my family to cooperate with me. I usually don't ask them for ideas until the calender flips to November. (I'd love to ask them in January but apparently that's "too soon to think about Christmas".) You'd think I'm asking them which organ they're willing to part with. Most of the time I get "I don't know".

What?
How is this possible?

If you ask me, at any given moment in time, I can tell you a minimum of three things that I want. (Four if you count a single, silent hour to myself.) Granted, I usually don't buy myself anything because I'm too busy being the National Bank of Mom and that could be why I have a huge stockpile of wants and/or needs. Or maybe I'm a tad too gullible with those commercials that show me all the cool things my life lacks. Or perhaps I'm not in touch with my inner chakras and haven't fully realized that earthly possessions don't make the inner eye happy. (Or something like that.) Um, nope, I'm pretty sure even my chakras wanted that kindle gift card. After all, those e-books don't buy themselves, am I right? It's not very often you ask yourself why your family can't be more materialistic.

But seriously, why can't my family be a little more materialistic? Is that too much to ask? Give me a Christmas list in July dammit. Just one teensy gift idea. Otherwise you might end up with a fruitcake. (On the upside, I hear they make lovely door stops.)

Uh, yeah, looks delicious.

Oh Dahling, You MUST Try The Spa!

Picture this: It's the end of a long week. You haven't slept an entire night in months, you're hungry, tired, and stressed. To top it all off, you're not speaking to your family and your job is emotionally exhausting. You decide a day at the spa is truly the rejuvenating experience that your life is lacking. After all, it's rough being three months old.

That's right, there's a spa for babies. It's called FloatBabies (http://floatbabies.com) and it's geared for infants aged 2 weeks to 6 months. Because it's super stressful eating, sleeping, and pooping all day. (Just ask the dog!) Luckily, the nice people at FloatBabies saw this void and filled it. Now your baby can escape their cares and float in a neck doughnut for twenty five minutes.

I don't know, that one baby looks a little pissed off if you ask me.

I tried to wrap my head around the concept of a baby spa and I just can't. Don't get me wrong, I know there are benefits of massage and water therapy and all that hippie dippie hoo doo. I think yoga and walking and centering your chakras are great. When you actually have something to be worried about. I'm just not getting what my four month old would be going through that he would need to relax at the spa. Teething? Soggy diapers? 

Also, I'm one of those worrywart moms who thinks of all the possible things that can go wrong and then tries to take precautions against them. (A.K.A. Overprotective Crazy Mom) So I look at this picture with the babies in the neck floaties and worry that the baby's going to slip out and go under water or that there's going to be some sort of neck damage or that my kid would be traumatized and not be able to even eat a Lifesaver's candy without calling his therapist.

But I went to their website anyway and checked it out for research purposes. The testimonials were amusing and I felt bad that I was amused by a parent who was genuinely happy that their baby had a huge bowel movement and slept through the night after a "movement session". (Oh.....that's why it's a movement session? Eww.) According to the website, water therapy can improve lung development, benefit the cardiovascular system, and increase muscular and skeletal strength. They'll also be able to play Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata with their toes by age one. (Actually, I made that last one up. I bet you couldn't even tell.)

So since we don't live anywhere close to Houston, I guess my poor child will just have to continue living his stressed out, non-water therapy life. The poor thing will have to suffer with regular lung development and skeletal strength like his siblings. If he starts to feel left out I can always throw him in a swimming pool in a few years.

The Jolly Green Giant In Training

I think I'm raising some Amazonian woman's son. Or maybe The Jolly Green Giant is part of my extended family and the genes skipped some generations just to activate in this last baby. Only, instead of green hulk like hues, he's tending towards his mom's pasty blinding white pigment that ultimately means keeping the sunscreen business afloat with our purchases alone. (Two thirds of my family are Casper the Ghost look-a-likes.)

This boy likes to eat. Sometimes I wonder if he's a mid-western farm boy in training. You know, those strapping lads who can carry pails of milk and bales of hay in one hand while wrangling a cow in the other. They eat like a lumberjack because they work sixteen hours straight. I think he might be planning his career early. Fortunately, breast milk is free because I'm pretty sure we'd have already had to take out a milk equity loan to cover formula costs. Forget college savings, we'd have a fork oh one k plan.

Maybe babies stress eat too. I know I start to crave chocolate or cheeseburgers when I'm stressed. (Oh who am I kidding? I crave all types of junk food when I stress.) Maybe he's worried that his stroller isn't cool enough or that his onesies aren't from Aeropostale like all the preppie babies. Maybe he's a little self conscious that his thighs are chubby, his teeth aren't coming in yet, and his bald little head, that once had downy soft dark hair, now resembles Uncle Fester's shiny, bald pate. (And where does the hair go anyway?)

All these worries make him turn to the food fountain for comfort. But you know it's a vicious cycle once you start and no amount of cooing, arm waving, and tummy time exercises seem to get rid of that pesky baby fat. Luckily, in another 6 or 7 months he'll find his religion in running which will help him tone down. Until you introduce those Gerber cereal puffs. (They're like crack!) And since they haven't yet formed the Gerber Graduate Overeater's Anonymous group, he won't have anyhere to turn for this puff addiction. Before you know it, buying one tube a week turns into two, two into three. Before you realize what's happening, he's a toddler puff junkie, eating a whole tube daily.

Or maybe it's more like, "Hmmm. I like sucking. Yum, pacifier. Mmm, my fingers. Yee haw, magic milk makers!"

I can stop anytime I want to!