Too Blessed to Be Stressed

Did I mention I'm moving next week? Life is a little stressful right now.

Packing, mothering, wife-ing, packing, working, friending, packing.  It's a lot.  

You'll notice that blogging wasn't in that list.  I'm not funny right now, I'm stressed.

Even so, there are so many things for which I am thankful.  

I really am too blessed to be stressed.  

Today's Challenge:
See how many blessings you can think of and focus on them all day, rather than your stresses. 

Oreo Therapy

Sam here.

I'm having Oreo therapy tonight. You know how it is.  It starts with a nice, "healthy" dinner like chicken from a can and after the the kiddo goes to bed you find a package Oreos in the pantry.  It goes downhill from there.  Sure... start out with one.  Just one.  A little taste.  Then it turns into three on the coffee table.  And then it just goes downhill from there.

I'm moving in two weeks.  Out of the house in which we began our family and into the house ... in which my in-laws live.  Yup, we're moving in with my in-laws. {Who are, incidentally, pretty fabulous.}  Nevertheless, two adults, one child, and one polka-dotted dog are moving in with the in-laws for four months while our new house is being built.  The third adult in our house is moving in with other folks, because simply adding the four of us to an already established house of adults and dog are one thing, but adding THREE adults, one child, and a polka-dotted dog to an already established house is just plain crazy talk.

So that means I'm packing up an entire house to put everything in storage and move into another, already established home, for the rest of the school year and the entire summer.

Tell me I don't deserve Oreo therapy and I will cut you.

No, I'm not kidding.

Crisis + Oreos = Crisis averted.

Now, please excuse me. I'm going to Pinot up and prepare for more moving boxes.

Up tomorrow: Little Red Randi-hood and the Big Bad IEP.

Who We Are

We're moms.  We're wives.  We're independent women.

We came together as friends when we realized we all had a piece of each other inside of us.  Over time, we got closer and decided to give ourselves a name.

In our discussions (around a bottle or two of pop...or maybe wine), we said wives and moms should be given badges like Girl Scouts when we do certain things in our lives.  And with that, The Badges were born.  Seriously - if Girl Scouts can earn a pretty badge for their sash when they learn enough about birds, why shouldn't we earn one when we get pooped on by a child? 

We became a Sisterhood when we realized we all inadvertently became members of the same sorority when we birthed special needs children.  It's a sorority of which none of us wanted to be members, but now that we're in it, we're making the best of it.

We were the Sisterhood of the Badges.  We had four founding members, but knew there were so many honorary members out there.  We quickly learned that there were other women out there who were just like us who didn't have special needs kids... some of them didn't even have kids.  But we're the same inside. 

Now we're the Gammas: the sisters of Beta Delta Gamma. We're moms, wives, sisters, daughters, full-time workers, stay-at-home-moms, a little bit of everything, all at once.  We're as close as Georgia and Florida and as far away as Montana. 

We're a little crazy, but not entirely cray-cray.

We ARE the Mommies of the Year.