The Simple Things

I don’t think it takes much to make me happy. I am sure my husband would disagree, but I swear I am not that difficult to please. I like the simple things. Just so we are clear, these simple things are not always cheaper things. Sometimes people (ahem, my husband) get these words mixed up in their minds. Which is probably why he sometimes refers to me as high-maintenance or as he likes to say, Jana-maintenance. Ha-ha, he’s a real knee slapper that one.

I think he has no idea how bad I could be. If only he could see that I am pretty easy-going, he would realize he is really, truly, lucky. I am a delight!

The way I see it, generally speaking, high-maintenance women don’t go camping for long-weekends with their two small boys. They don’t pee in the woods, ride ATV’s in the mud or take walks in the woods with the hopes of spotting some deer or a few turkeys.

They don’t help their 2-year-old pee all over said camping area (and by help, I really mean hold it and aim, if you know what I mean) all weekend long. Potty training while camping is so much fun. I think I had urine run down my hand and arm no less than seven times and had my shoes peed on at least three. If I were a boy, I would have the whole grab my boy-parts and pee thing down pat. I guess some learn faster than others.

A high-maintenance mom doesn’t return from a 4-wheeler ride to learn that her potty-training toddler took a shit on her Dad’s lawn tractor, proudly. Only to be told that the “log” must have rolled out his pant leg. If I were truly high-maintenance someone else would have cleaned the poop-smeared child.

But, I am not high-maintenance so I did all those things. I do a lot of un-fun not so fancy stuff everyday.

I am easy to please and prefer the simple things. Things like cold Mountain Dew in the fridge, clean sheets on the bed, and a clean-ish house make me happy. My kids’ happy and squeaky-clean reading books with me, joyous! A shopping trip to Target or an occasional trip to the Gap or Banana and I am content. Add in a nice, thick body butter, some chap stick and a good book and I am in heaven. My husband snuggled up on the couch with me watching TV and ice cream in the freezer, happy as a clam. All simple things.

So the next time my wonderful husband refers to me as Jana-maintenance I am going to hand him the toilet brush, the peed on sheets, the diaper rash cream for the toddler’s red, rashy ass and head over to Tiffany’s to do a little shopping before hitting the spa. You want to see high-maintenance? Baby here I come!


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