The Act of Hubicide

I've recently begun to toss around the word "hubicide." It's a term I coined a few weeks ago when I found myself saturated in pure frustration with my hubs. I guess the official definition, should Merriam-Webster ever allow it to be included in the dictionary, would be something along the lines of this: the killing of one husband by one wife. While I know I would NEVER commit such a terrible act, I think most wives have been able to relate to this thought process at one point in their marriage or another. They may have even fantasized about it. Flashes of hubicidal thoughts come and go as we wonder how he can't hear the baby crying or why the trash hasn't been carried to the curb for two weeks. Mostly, I speak figuratively about this and not truly about the reality of killing my husband. Well, maybe just killing off the annoying parts of his behavior!
The truth is though, God made men and women to be different. I'm not always sure why. But I'm sure they want to kill us sometimes too. I'll leave them to come up with their own word for that!

An ADD SAHM

I'm making my to-do list for this morning. I've meal planned for the next 7 days. I've listed all of the other tasks I need to accomplish. And as I sit here and type this blog entry, I realize that as more and more minutes tick by, my chances of getting these prioritized things accomplished are dwindling. I seem to suffer from SAHM ADD at times. For the lay-person, this is Stay-At-Home-Mom Attention Deficit Disorder. This is a unique strand of ADD that only affects those of us moms who are trying to substitute Maxwell House for sleep, can't seem to stay on top of the laundry, and have snot spots on our shoulders. I start the day with the noblest of intentions. I have my own agenda of tasks and seem to get distracted by, well for one, the internet. This diversion is most certainly followed by something as pressing as a bodily function of one or more children or pets. Before I know it, dirty dishes, snacks, the Directv bill, and assorted phone calls have snowballed into a mess of disorganized productivity. I am, in fact, usually getting something done. However, my organized plan for the day flies out the window, and I begin a process similar to crisis management.
One would think that this chosen affliction (I say chosen because I did, in fact, choose it.) would be enough to send moms running back to the work force. Instead, I feel blessed to be able to be with my children and bond with them. I am honored that when they wake up from their naps, I get to be the first face they see. It is my privilege to provide that consistency for them. Hopefully, these moments create an unbreakable bond. It's either that, or we are bonding due to surviving the chaos together like soldiers in battle. Either way, I wouldn't trade it for anything.

A Happy Place

This morning, I find myself reflecting on the trials and tribulations of the last year. This is something I have done often over the last several months. When I look back, however, I don't think about the pain and stress. I am grateful. I look at the life of my family now compared to then and see such blessing. God has poured out on us over the last several months. It was unexpected and came out of a terrible situation. Nevertheless, I rejoice at our new closeness, daughter, financial peace and look forward to what is in store for us next.