Nine years ago today Eric asked me to marry him.  When I tell people this, they almost always ask why February 15 th  and not February 14 th .  The answer is pretty simple…we’re really not big Valentine’s Day people.  We usually don’t even do presents. Instead we save our money and take a trip together, which is the best tradition ever and gives us something to look forward to every year.  Enough about that, let’s get to the story.  Eric and I had a bit of a whirlwind romance.  We met in May, started dating in October and were already talking about marriage by Christmas.  By the time Valentine’s Day rolled around, I knew that a proposal was coming because we had looked at rings, talked about a date, and my parents were acting w eird, so I was pretty sure that Eric had already asked for their permission. He kept telling me that he wasn’t going to do it on Valentine’s Day, so I was sorta anticipating something the following weekend.   February 15, 2008 rolled around o

Sometimes I feel like a grownup cheerleader. Not a literal cheerleader because I can’t even clap on beat much less tumble across the floor, but like a “life” cheerleader…an encourager. Every personality test or work skills survey I’ve ever taken has validated this feeling.   The problem is that I’m really under-qualified to be giving advice.   I blow it with my kids every single day. We run late, I raise my voice, and they survive on chicken nuggets, frozen pizza, and spaghettiOs.   I’m just so grateful that they have a variety of shapes because so far I have successfully convinced them that they’re eating something new. So, yeah… I’m probably not your gal in the parenting department. When it comes to marriage, you might want to steer clear of my advice too.  I mean,  someone at work asked for my husband’s full name so that they could add him to the prayer list at their church because they feel bad for him having to deal with me. I think they were joking, but either way, I won

If you’ve been around this blog for very long, you know that the Watson home can sometimes be like the famous Scottish Poem, “Things That Go Bump In The Night.”   No, seriously.   The kids are underachievers when it comes to sleeping, but I’m not complaining.   Heck, after 6 years of sleepless nights, I can’t complain when someone wakes up to potty or has a bad dream.   Even now, it’s not unusual for someone to be up at some point during the night.   Ellie is a sleep-walker, which is interesting to say the least. And Eli has a thing about making sure his curtains are closed.   If there is so much as a tiny crack, he summons me to close them. Anyway, this week has been particularly interesting in the sleeping department and its only Tuesday.   Sunday night into Monday I woke up in the wee hours of the morning and went to check on the kids before getting back in bed.   I forgot that the metal dog cage was folded up and leaning against the wall in the hallway, and when I turned to le

I'm still behind on blogging, but I'm itching to write something with substance, something more than a highlight of family events.  It's been a while since I've been in a place where I have felt like I could share my heart, and that's ok because not everything is meant for the internet...can I get an "Amen?" As my children are getting older, I am moving from the "surviving" stage of motherhood  and into the "thriving" part, if that's such a thing.  Can I just stop right here and encourage you Mommas with little bitty ones.  I started this blog back in those days, and I am so glad because it has served as a reminder of how difficult that season of life can truly be. I used to be sentimental about the kids growing up, but I'm sorta over that now.  I promise you that one day you will sleep again, and one day you will shower again, and if you're really lucky, you might even get to do that in private. I want to share tha