Mama Sass

Confidence

2011-10-09T10:01:00.000-07:00

Confidence is something I'm lacking lately.

I hate to admit it, because it sounds completely shallow (and maybe it is), but I'm pretty sure it has something to do with how I'm looking since the birth of my daughter.

I feel heavy. I feel puffy. I feel unkempt. I feel like no matter what I do, I'm not going to look good. I don't want my picture taken (which is going to really stink in a few weeks when we have family pictures)...heck, I honestly don't even want to go out in public.

The way I move? I swear the only way to describe it is 'lumbering'. I am uncoordinated - more so than usual.

I see other moms who look so put together. Their hair is done in some other style than a thrown up ponytail and it isn't doing the nasty postpartum shedding thing. Their clothes are crisp and actually have waistbands that don't result in a muffin top.

They don't sweat profusely doing mundane things like grocery shopping.

They get time in the day to take care of themselves (I bet they even get to go to the BATHROOM by themselves...jerks!).

I know I have a lot to be thankful for, and believe me, I am.

I would give so much to feel good about myself again. I hate how much my physical appearance ties into how I perceive myself.

But it does. That's an unfortunate fact.

I don't remember feeling this poorly after my birth of my son. After he was born, I went back to work. Though I am thankful I have the opportunity to be a stay at home mama, there was something affirming about having a job outside of the home. I dressed up everyday. I got to speak with adults on a daily basis. My brain was used for something other than housework and playing Thomas the Tank Engine OVER AND OVER.

I guess I can't have it both ways. And if I had to choose, I guess I'd choose to be exactly where I am right now. At home with my children. I know raising them is the most important job I'll ever have.

What needs to happen is me finding a way to thrive in my current situation. And when I figure out how I'm going to do that, I'll let you know.

Right now? I'm going to figure out how to get in a LONG shower. You know, maybe I'll shave my legs AND wash my hair.

Extravagant. I know.

And I Have a Preschooler.

2011-10-01T10:30:00.001-07:00

As I write this, I am hiding in the bathroom. This week...no scratch that...last few weeks have been rough. Nothing I can't handle, but I have shed a few tears, which is quite the feat through my Zoloft armor.

Last time I bitched...errr WROTE...it was all about the woes of potty training. Then lo and behold, one day G just runs into the bathroom, climbs on the big toilet and announces 'Mom, I'm pooping!'

And that was that. He is fully trained now. Even wakes up dry, though I'm still putting him in a Pull Up at night. You know, just in case.

Once he got the whole potty thing, I thought we were home free. We started preschool for three hours, two days per week. And those three hours? Glorious. I was able to run all my errands, even grocery shop and use coupons effectively (this seriously requires concentration, it's no joke).

My happy little bubble was abruptly burst when I received a call during a doctor appointment for the babe. G was having a very difficult time, and had been since he started. Screaming, crying, ignoring the teacher.

And not making eye contact. That right there freaked me out the most.

After meeting with the teacher, we decided that either me or the hubs would gotpreschool WITH G.

So that's what I've been doing the last few weeks, wearing the babe in the Moby wrap.

A few colds later, G's teacher said I could try leaving him there last Thursday. And THANK GOD, he did okay. Not great, but he made progress.

Whew.

So thats what I've been up to. Fun, right?

Being a parent is hard sometimes. But when you see improvement? All the tears and work are totally worth it.

- Posted from my iPad! I know!

The Poop Chronicles

2011-08-20T21:37:00.000-07:00

I would really love to be able to say I have more to talk about than poop.

But I don't. My life revolves around poop right now.

Potty training is going really well. Except for number two. G absolutely refuses to go in the potty. Not even for chocolate chips. Not even for TWO stickers. Not even for a chance to go to the train store.

Clearly, I'm not above bribery.

The other day while at my parents, I had the bright idea of letting him go in their raspberry patch and eat to his hearts content. I mean, there's no way he'll be able to hold it once he's eaten his weight in raspberries.

Right?

Wrong. He held it and held it and held it. He ran around the yard clutching his little bottom. He begged for a diaper.

I finally convinced him to go poo poo in the yard like a doggy. Then I followed him around with a shovel. Not one of my proudest moments.

And yes, I know this is questionable parenting. But seriously, I can't deal with the poopy undies. Beyond gross. (I did see Thea's suggestion on my last post to let G change his own poopy undies and I've taken it under advisement).

Preschool starts in about three weeks. Admittedly, I don't think we're going to have him fully potty independent by then, we may have to postpone enrollment for a month or so.

But good lord, I could really use those three hours, two times weekly to chill. And by chill I mean run around like a madwoman trying to run all the errands that are nearly impossible with two kids in tow.

And I also fully realize that if my son ever reads this post, years down the road, he will be mortified and will probably be putting me in a horrible nursing home.

But really? He really should be changing MY poopy underwear. It's only fair.

I'm Really Reaching Here, People

2011-08-07T22:40:00.000-07:00

I need to write and I am so, so stuck. The term 'writer's block' is so cliche. But yeah, I think I've got it. That, or I'm brain dead from my ingenious idea to do potty training bootcamp whilst juggling a super cute yet super needy baby.

The potty training. Oh. My. Stars. Talk about frustrating. We've been working at it for about a week now, and only in the last four days have I seen progress. Except yesterday was a total regression and cleaning poop out of underwear now nears the top of my list of possible tortures for P.O.W.'s. Nasty.

But I charge ahead...the only way G is going to preschool is if he's fully potty trained. We toured a preschool on Thursday that I really loved and I think will be a good fit, but he's got to be fully independent in the bathroom. Oy. My great hope is that his desire to go to school (and he talks about it constantly) will override his stubbornness over toilet training. I know he can do it. The kicker is if he WANTS to.

Up until last week, I was going mellow route. Asking everyday if he wanted to wear big boy underwear. If he said no, well, that was that. But now we're going whole hog. I'm OVER changing a 3 1/2 year old's diapers. Barf.

Er. So after that HUGE digression, yeah, I'm needing to write, for my sanity, but all that is on my mind is, well, poop.

In an effort to try to break out of my brain lock, I'm just going to do one of those random posts. Yes, I'm totally indulging myself. Whatever. And I'm doing bullet points, cause I like them and I'm the boss of this blog.

Let the randomness begin!

- I'm in love with quinoa. I make a bunch and mix it with roasted veg and balsamic vinaigrette. So good, hot or cold. The rest of my family won't touch it, of course.

- Can I just say I am SO tired of this post pregnancy body? Nothing fits. I know I need to exercise. I'm planning on starting the C25K program. I just need to figure out if I can take the baby in the jogging stroller yet - I think she may still be too small. But back to the body hate thing - getting dressed is such a chore. I used to love putting outfits together. Now I want to wear muumuus. Waistbands are torture.

- A few weeks ago I had the realization that I haven't worn heels in forever. I used to wear heels to work everyday. Now? They are all sitting in my closet blanketed in a layer of dust. It's tragic. And yesterday, I considered dragging out my fifteen year old Birkenstocks because my feet are killing me with all this baby pacing. It's official, I'm going crunchy. If I wear wool socks with my Birks, please track me down and kick me in the shins. It's just not acceptable.

- I got my first crown last week, narrowly avoiding what would have been my first root canal. The saddest thing is that I actually enjoyed my time in the dental chair and found it relaxing. It must be a 'mother of young children' thing.

- My son accidentally watched the Honey Badger on YouTube. It was an accident, but now he is obsessed with honey badger. I will let him watch it, with the sound off. Mother of the Year, right here. I'm balancing it out with the Duggars. He is also obsessed with them and can name all the kids, in order. So proud.

And that's all I've got. I'm so tired and my brain hurts. If anyone has any questions or ideas for posts, please share. Seriously. Inspire me, I'm begging you!

My Dogs are A$$holes

2011-07-19T16:18:00.001-07:00

Before I had children, I scoffed at people who unloaded their pets once baby arrived. Our dogs slept in our bed, enjoyed doggy day care, thought nothing of climbing up on the couch.

Basically, I was an idiot. And we created two monsters. Stinky, hairy, loud monsters.

We have two dogs and two cats. The cats know their place. They have acclimated to moving even further down the totem pole quite nicely.

The dogs are going down kicking and screaming. Make that barking and whining.

Sadie, the elder and supposedly 'smarter' (according to my husband, I have
my doubts) of the dogs is the ringleader. She has coordinated several jailbreaks from the backyard that have resulted in a trip to doggy jail. You'd think we had them chained up or in a 5x5 pen.

Oh no. No no no. Our dogs have our ENTIRE backyard. And it's not small. What have they done with this expanse? Dug it up, destroyed landscaping, crapped on every square inch. Thrown themselves at the gate until it splintered and they could squeeze out. Littered the grass with the plush dog bed they disemboweled.

Then, when they finish their rampage of destruction, they camp out against the sliding glass door. For hours. Forget playing or running out some energy.

Since they can't be left outside when I'm gone under threat of escape, leaving the house becomes a huge exercise in dog proofing. No diapers, clean or dirty, can be accessible, or said diaper will be shredded and strewn about the living room. This also goes for nursing pads and used kleenex.

They are walking purveyors of filth. I sweep, I'm not even kidding, at least five times daily. I need to buy stock in Swiffer. If I do something as stupid as mop, they will track in mud immediately. Even if it hasn't rained in days.

The dogs have recently taken to pacing up and down the hardwood floors, scratching at their collars, shaking and incessantly licking their genitals (loudly) JUST as the baby is about to go to sleep.

This is what is going to push me over the edge, I swear. If you've ever had a fussy baby, you know the all encompassing rage that overtakes your being when someone/something messes with that babe's sleep.

Of course, we won't get rid of the damn dogs. My husband thinks they keep me and the children safe. My son adores them.

So they stay. Even though I might accidentally shave all their fur.

- Posted from my iPad! I know!

Live from Tissueville, It's the &:$;@!@ Summer Cold!

2011-07-14T14:09:00.001-07:00

I swear I don't just come here to complain.

Okay, maybe I do.

But ugh. The plague has descended upon our house. First G had a runny nose last week. Then the husband had a cold. Then me. Mine consists of a gross phlegmy cough, a faucet for a nose and sore throat.

So I figured we were all done.

But this morning, G woke up and five minutes later put himself back to bed. I knew right away that a) the apocalypse was imminent or b) he was sick.

One wrestling match and armpit temperature later, it was confirmed. Fever. It hit around 102 and at that point I employed the perennial mom move - the Tylenol full nelson. This kid is not compliant in taking medicine, ever.

We're now hanging out at around 100.

The little prince is splayed out on the couch, demanding 'babies' - this is the Duggars. And clearly another post where I explain why he knows them AND ALL THEIR J NAMES is forthcoming.

For now, I'm crossing all my fingers and toes that the baby stays healthy. A two month old with a fever is panic inducing.

And also, G must be feeling better cause he's back to annoying the heck out of me.

Lay off, kiddo. I still feel like garbage. Thanks, your momma.

Happy 4th and Stuff (Mainly Stuff About Screamy Baby)

2011-07-04T11:21:00.001-07:00

It's July 4th already. This summer is going by way too fast and with far too little sun for my liking.

But today, it's perfectly gorgeous outside. Which for Northwest Washington on the 4th of July is extremely rare...possibly a sign of the apocalypse.

The explosions in our neighborhood have been consistent for about a week now. Nothing says patriotism like blowing stuff up, yeah? I'm so glad neither my children or my dogs seem bothered. Cause then I'd totally be that neighbor calling the cops.

Funny how lack of sleep and a fussy baby will make you the crazy, stick in the mud neighbor.

Just so you know, I've been blogging in my head for weeks. It's just that none of it makes it here. Typing whilst rocking a screaming baby is impossible.

I have still yet to pinpoint why my babe is so screamy. I'm off dairy, she's on reflux meds. I'm considering going gluten free for a while to see if that helps. I know that MY body seems to function better when I'm not eating wheat.

Here's what I'm scared of: she's simply a high need baby. That's Dr. Sears' nice way of saying super duper don't ever put me down fussy. (I'm reading The Fussy Baby Book right now and it's like it was written about my child. Shoot.)

The best way I've found to cope is to wear her. All. The.Time. It works, and it frees up my arms. I've been using my Moby Wrap, which G calls the 'pocket.' If the babe is crying, G says 'Mommy, put baby in her pocket.'

And I do.

So basically, I'm totally morphing into a crunchy mama.

Breast-feeding, co sleeping, cloth diapering, baby wearing. It's kind of awesome to realize that getting back to the basics is do-able, even for a domestic flunky like me.

And cloth diapering is saving us so much money. Which rocks.

I have so much to write about. Probably boring stuff, but I get to do a lot of thinking whilst pacing.

And I'm mastering typing on the iPad while moving.

Multitasking is awesome.

- Posted from my iPad while baby wearing!

Houston, We Have a Screamer

2011-06-05T22:50:00.001-07:00

Apparently I jinxed the heck out of myself by proclaiming I have an easy baby.

Yes, my sleepy little angel has been replaced with Fussy McScreamerson. It all started a few weeks ago. I mentioned her fussiness at her two week well child visit, thinking maybe I'd have to give up dairy or that the doc would recommend gas drops.

But he whips out a prescription for an antacid. Thinks she has reflux.

I was not convinced. Her symptoms simply don't show reflux. But I told him I'd try it. Two weeks in and nothing. In fact, I'd say it's (whatever 'it' is) worse.

Last Thursday I called and left a message for the nurse asking if I could stop with the reflux meds.

The great news is that the nurse that called me back is also a lactation consultant...I didn't know my pediatrician's office even had one. I spoke with her at length.

Here's the thing: I've always been an overproducer when it comes to breastfeeding. Sounds like a great thing, right? Yeah, not so much. The lactation consultant directed me to an article on the La Leche League website that addresses problems surrounding overproduction of breast milk. The basic take away is that baby gets too full on the lactose rich fore milk and never gets the fatty hind milk. This leads to gas, horrible poops and overall fussy baby.

And seriously? Reading the list of symptoms and effects on baby? It was like reading a word for word description of both of my kids.

So, since Thursday I've been following the article's advice on how to make sure baby gets the right balance of fore milk and hind milk while trying to curb my crazy Bessie boobs.

I've noticed a little improvement in baby. She still has a witching hour...okay, hours. So I'm not ruling out colic.

But I'm hoping once I get the milk factories to stop working overtime, we will see more improvement.

Cause I know I'm not cool with the colic. Eff the colic.

- Posted from my iPad! I know!

Hazy

2011-06-03T21:19:00.001-07:00

Hey there.

Um. Hmmm. What day is it? Where am I?

I need to face facts. Newborn bliss has faded. I am tired and my life revolves around boobs and poop.

Don't get me wrong. I adore my wee babe. But good god, I forgot how annoying massive boobs are...seriously. Ouch. And how little sleep I can have and still (kind of) function.

And last week, I hit a big wall and ended up calling my doctor, sobbing. I actually scared myself...anxiety like I'd never experienced, crushing anxiety. And I was so irritable and impatient. Forget about a short fuse...I had no fuse.

Suffice it to say, my doctor immediately wrote me a prescription for antidepressants and scheduled me to come into the office asap.

At first, I was absolutely gutted that I needed help. That I couldn't handle things on my own. I don't like to ask for help.

To be honest, I'm still struggling with it - I didn't have PPD with my first child. Why now? What's different?

Logically, I know that this is something I can't control. It's an imbalance. My hormones are all out of whack. And my doctor assures me it'll get better.

Emotionally? I'm kind of pissed. I'll get over it, and I know I made the right decision in seeking help.

For now, I just want to enjoy this precious short time that Baby C is sweet and tiny. I need to remember to soak it in...time is fleeting. I don't want to wake up from this haze and realize I've missed anything.

- Posted from my iPad! I know!

That's It. No More Books.

2011-05-26T23:37:00.001-07:00

I knew this day was coming, but I wasn't prepared. I knew the time would come that my child would open his mouth and say something embarrassing. In public.

Today, upon meeting a woman with gray, curly hair, he exclaimed "Hi old lady!"

And then, just in case she hadn't heard him the first time, he referred to her as "old lady" for the next twenty minutes.

I tried to brush it off...he thinks everyone over the age of 30 is old, I said. But I knew that he was calling her "old lady" because she had the same hairdo as the Old Lady in Babar.

I won't be telling her that. Cause I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be taken as a compliment.

- Posted from my iPad! I know!

I Left the House With Both Kids...Where's My Medal?

2011-05-24T22:31:00.001-07:00

Yesterday, I attempted my first solo two child outing. First to the pediatrician for Baby C's two week checkup, then to the drugstore.

Honestly? I'm still breaking out in the sweats just thinking about it.

I literally tried to plan everything out on Sunday night. I laid out all of our clothes, packed up the diaper bags with snacks and bribes. I got up before the kids and got a shower. Everyone was fed and dressed and out the door on time.

Once we were at the pediatrician? Uh, yeah. G was in full on three year old drama mode. And? We got the evil nurse. We've had her before, and it's clear she's not a fan of children. She's asking me questions about the baby, none of which I'm actually able to hear, let alone answer. She's giving G the stink eye. I'm contemplating kicking her in the shins.

Somehow the pediatrician fails to notice G is being uncooperative and does nothing to speed the visit along. He does, however, give the baby a prescription for antacid since she's seeming to have some screamy, gassy tummy issues.

Which means we have to hit the drugstore on the way home.

Sweet.

The baby is crying inconsolably upon leaving the doctor. Once we made it to Rite Aid, I found the most deserted place in the parking lot and nursed her. She did not fall asleep, but she stopped crying.

Okay. I can do this, I told myself.

I got a shopping cart. But here's the thing...the carts at this store are miniature. As in, not meant for more than one kid, especially not my three year old who is the size of a five year old, and my massive infant car seat.

So the infant seat is perched on top of the cart, by the handle (don't worry, I made sure the seat clicked onto the cart. Safety first.) And G? He's scrunched up in the lower part of the cart, his knees by his ears.

The pharmacist takes the script and our insurance card and tells me 15 minutes. I set a timer. Seriously. I did. They've tricked me into 25 minutes before. Ice got two ticking time bombs and I'm not messing around.

We walk around for about 10 minutes. I'm strategically avoiding any aisle with toys or candy. So we basically hung out with the maxi pads.

At this point I've got a whiny little boy and a newborn whose upper lip is starting to quiver. I am paged to the pharmacy where I'm informed my child is not on my insurance.

Forget the preschooler...mama's going to throw herself on the floor and have a tantrum.

It's game over at this juncture. I haul the kidlets back out to the car and we go home. I eat peanut butter straight out of the jar then call the insurance company, then my husband. Paperwork for baby's insurance? Never submitted. Stab.

(Insurance is all straightened out now, meltdown averted...and I didn't eat the frosting sitting in our fridge...yay me!!)

This morning? I woke up determined to show that drugstore who's boss. While I was at it, I decided to give the grocery store a go.

And I survived. No baby, little boy or mommy meltdowns. Okay, I resorted to animal cracker bribery. Whatever gets you through the shopping, you know?

So I guess my first outing with both the kids was pretty much a fail. But tonight, baby has her tummy meds and we've got milk and bread.

I feel so accomplished.

Little victories.

- Posted from my iPad! Typing with your thumbs is NOT FUN.

Happy Berfday to Me!

2011-05-19T14:53:00.000-07:00

Thank God for Facebook because I pretty much entirely forgot today is my birthday.

I've been a wee bit busy.

But I logged on this morning and was floored by all the birthday wishes. Lots and lots of love. And yes, I cried a little. Are you surprised, really? I figure I can't listen to the radio, watch sappy commercials or any episodes of Glee or Extreme Home Makeover until my hormones stabilize.

What am I NOT teary over? Getting older. Today I'm 33. I don't want to be perpetually 29. And my early 20's? Fugeddaboutit. You couldn't pay me to do that again. Except for the sleeping in part. Yeah, that would be okay.

Right now is good. It's where I'm supposed to be, I can't imagine things differently. I don't lead a glamourous life. Things are most definitely not perfect. But I'm content. Content, for me, is way better than over the moon happy. Super happy makes me nervous. I walk around waiting for the other shoe to drop. Am I a pessimist? My preferred term is REALIST.

Today has been nice and mellow. It's sunny and beautiful outside. My husband is home and planting my vegetable garden (awesome gift, no?). Baby C had a newborn photo shoot this morning. G has been helping Daddy outside and is covered head to toe in dirt. I'm thinking we'll barbecue tonight.

To some, this may sound boring. But I think it sounds perfect.

Happy birthday to me, indeed.

blink

2011-05-16T20:49:00.000-07:00

Today I woke up and realized that my little girl has been here one week already.

And cue the postpartum tears...

I'm thrilled to report that thus far, many of my fears about going from one to two kids have been unfounded.

Knock wood.

Honestly, the transition has been fairly simple. G has embraced his baby sister and has been so loving and protective. He has his acting out moments...but don't all three year olds?

Baby C has been, in my opinion, and from past experience...ahem...dare I say it...easy.

I may have just totally jinxed myself.

She's a great sleeper, barely fusses and just seems to have a mellow temperament. I have to actually wake her to eat, most of the time.

I'll be honest, I've still had my moments. Don't you just LOVE hormones? Gah. Honestly, I kind of didn't want to leave the hospital last Wednesday when I was discharged. I mean seriously, they have a menu and you can sit and order room service and I got to laze around in bed all day and not worry about dinner and laundry and it was SO quiet. And I had amazing nurses who didn't even piss me off when they woke me up every two hours to take my vitals. Then I realized the hospital was like staying in the most expensive hotel ever. So, I came home, to reality. As soon as I got home, I was happy to be here, to have my entire family intact and under one roof. Plus, my husband has been really amazing and supportive. I feel very lucky this last week that he's home and able to take some paternity leave.

For the most part, I feel calm and like somehow, I have my stuff together.

Then again, I'm still on narcotics. So I'll let you know how I'm REALLY doing in a few days when I totally stop taking them. I know there will be that moment at my one week post surgery check up when the nurse asks how I'm doing, how I'm really doing, and I'll burst into tears. And then they'll offer me the happy pills.

Believe me, if I though I was for reals experiencing PPD, I'd have no problem with the pills. But by and large, I'm a happy tears person at the moment.

Like right now, I'm looking at this picture...

Totally crying. And this one...

Come on.

Then I think about how fast this is going. Already. And that? That kind of makes me sad. But I'm excited. Even a little proud of myself for soldiering through this first week. Having the realization that I might be able to pull this mother of two thing off...for reals.

Mama of Two

2011-05-10T20:58:00.000-07:00

We arrived at the hospital at 5:30 am yesterday. After changing into my super sexy hospital gown and answering a battery of questions, I was hooked up to an IV and the fetal monitor.

My in laws arrived at about 6:30 to keep us company. My step mother in law was engrossed with the baby's heartbeat. It was going from about 160 bpm to 120 bpm every few minutes.

Guess what? I was having contractions. Which I think is pretty awesome for two reasons...I could hardly feel them AND whether or not we had chosen the date for the planned C section, yesterday would have been baby's birthday.

At 7:30, I was wrapped in a blanket and shuffled across the hall to the OR. I was sick with apprehension over getting my spinal. I sat on the table, clutching a pillow, tears streaming down my face. B held my hands and the anesthesiologist talked me through the procedure. The worst part? In all honesty, it was the anticipation. My anesthesiologist was a total rock star. I started having major anxiety because I couldn't feel my chest raising when I took a breath, and she showed me that if I placed my hand on my chest while breathing, I could show myself I was, in fact, taking big, full breaths. It was like magic. Seriously.

The surgery began, and at 8 am on the dot, our beautiful daughter took her first breath.

And screamed. Best sound ever.

As I write this, she's snoring softly next to me.

She has a head full of dark wavy hair. Deep, dark inky blue eyes. Long, delicate fingers and toes. Her Daddy's full, heart shaped upper lip.

In a word? Delicious.

I wondered what she'd look like as I carried her around in my belly. Now I look at her and I can't imagine her looking any other way.

Tomorrow, we go home. And begin life as a family of four. We are complete now.

This little angel beside me was our missing puzzle piece.

Just Add Baby

2011-05-06T13:15:00.000-07:00

I saw my doctor for the last time yesterday before we meet again in the O.R. on Monday. The appointment went well. Except for when he had a sharp intake of breath when he measured my belly. I am measuring 42 weeks. WHAT? I'm delivering a little shy of a week early.

I've got a big baby in my belly! Doc guessed close to 9 pounds. Feel free to add your guess in the comments. Please DO NOT guess how much weight I've gained. Or I might have to track you down and scratch at your face.

If you're wondering, the nursery is finally (CLOSE to) done. Done enough, I guess. The walls still need a little something. And I could have organized the drawers a little better. But considering the state my house was in last weekend, I'm feeling pretty good about what we've accomplished, and there wasn't too much yelling involved.

Also? G is happily settled in his new room and doesn't seem a bit bothered that he has been displaced by the baby.

We'll see if that continues next week.

So finally, here are some pics of the nursery. I pieced this sucker together on NO budget. Lots of hand me downs, lots of re purposing.

And I'm totally okay with that. In truth, it's more gratifying to pull something together out of almost nothing rather than just order an entire nursery out of a catalog.

The bedding IS from Pottery Barn; my lovely sisters and mother-in-law gifted us with this set at my shower. I adore it. So bright and cheerful.

We re-covered G's glider with watermelon hued minky dot fabric. I really wanted to paint the glider white, but never got around to it. The pieces on the wall were originally corporate art from my old job. They were being thrown out and I rescued them and covered them in quilting fabric.

We ditched the changing table idea and went with a regular dresser. I don't like changing tables much, they seem like such a limited piece of furniture. This dresser is from Ikea. The pad had non-skid material underneath.

Baby shoes. Love.

And the only stuffed animal I bought for the little (warrior) princess. I couldn't resist. The colors were too perfect and I adore the whole owl trend that seems to be everywhere in nursery decor.

Three days till we meet this little babe!

P.S. If anyone has any ideas for wall decor, let me know. I already thought about putting her initials somewhere, but they are C.R.D.

Which is a little too close to crud for my taste.

Missing Pants With Waistbands...

2011-05-03T22:28:00.000-07:00

Okay, truthfully, I am missing pants.

We are t-minus six days till delivery and I can no longer deal with waistbands of any variety...regular OR maternity. And lets not even talk about shirts. Nothing is covering the belly at this point in time. I've slipped into the realm of maxi dresses, tunics and leggings.

Folks, I'm huge.

Yes, the water retention I'd staved off for so long has reared it's ugly head. Hello, cankles! I will say I'm thankful they waited until now to show up. I remember sitting in the tub at 7 months during my first pregnancy and screaming out to my poor husband, "Get in here!"

Poor guy came racing in to me pointing tearfully to my legs.

"I have elephant ankles," I sobbed.

And from that day on, it was all about the Crocs for me. That was all I could shove my poor swollen feet into...and was a GREAT look for work where I was required to dress office casual.

So this time, I'm trying to take it in stride. This too shall pass, hopefully at the hospital, in the form of pee or sweat...

I'll tell you what I'm not looking forward to - losing the baby weight. After my son, I didn't even really start losing the weight till a YEAR after he was born. And even then it was a struggle. Honestly, the factors that finally helped me drop the weight were: losing my job, caring for my dying mother in law, quitting breastfeeding after two years and training for a half marathon.

Two of those things I don't care to repeat. Stress as a diet is not a great option, trust.

So on to the ending breastfeeding - you might be like "Well, doesn't breastfeeding help you lose weight?"

In a word (or two) : eff no.

I am in the lucky .05% of women who hang onto pregnancy weight while breastfeeding. At least that's what my doc told me. Maybe he was just trying to soothe my borderline PPD.

Regardless, I will be breastfeeding this baby. I'm hoping against all hope that this time around, I can be one of those bitches who breezily says "I breastfed and the weight just evaporated."

I'm looking at you, Gisele.

Otherwise, running, here I come. Just call me Forrest Gump.

On Blogging

2011-05-01T09:34:00.000-07:00

When I try to explain to some of my 'in real life' friends (and family) about the friends I've made through blogging, I get blank stares back. Crickets. Maybe a 'that's nice'.

To be quite honest, before I got into blogging, I probably would have reacted the same. In fact, I KNOW I would have been skeptical.

Over the last two-ish years, I can honestly say I've made some of the greatest friends online. Many of whom I've gone on to meet in real life. I've actually gotten on a plane and flown away to stay with people that I know nothing about, save our email conversations and what I've read on their blogs.

Thankfully, they were not ax murderers.

In my former life - meaning the life I had when I worked out of the home from 9-5 and didn't have time to email, let alone blog - the whole concept of online community was foreign,. and let's face it, WEIRD to me.

But strange things start to happen in your head when you're suddenly laid off and a stay at home mom. You feel isolated. Adult conversations are few and far between. And in real life? I'm a little shy. So meeting other moms, or even women I could relate to at all, was difficult. I'd go to the playground and try to strike up conversation, but that would usually go nowhere. My son and I had fun at playgroups...but playgroups usually consisted of me running around like a madwoman after my child. So there's not a whole lot of opportunity for meaningful conversation.

Online? I'm free to jump around to different sites. Meet people that have common interests. Have long email exchanges that fill a bit of the void I sometimes feel socially. So now, what started out as a way to feel less lonely, has blossomed and grown into some true friendships. Real life friendships.

It's pretty awesome.

This week has been stressful. I've been struggling with being super uncomfortably pregnant, tired, stressed over being prepared for baby. Things were not coming together in a fashion that was making me happy - meaning, perfectly.

On Friday morning, I was running around like a madwoman and I got an email alert on my phone. I opened it up and started crying.

My girlfriends, my online girlfriends, had gotten together and sent me the BEST baby gift ever. A gift certificate to Dream Dinners.

Why was I crying (happy tears of course)? Because these women, some whom I've never laid eyes upon, know me so well that they knew WHAT I needed, even though I had no idea.

I needed something taken off my plate. I needed to be taken care of.

And more than that, I know they put a ton of thought into that gift.

More than the gift itself, can I just say that knowing I'm loved is the best? I needed that too, so much.

I am not discounting my wonderful, long time, real life friends in any way. Because I adore them more than anything. They are my family. My sisters.

But it is so beautiful adding to that family. And I truly believe that in the last few years, the love and the friendship in my life has expanded exponentially. And it's real.

So when I get the skeptical looks over blogging and 'online' friendships, do I get upset? No. Because I know what it means to me and how it's brought so much good to my life.

Twelve Days & I'm Officially Panicking.

2011-04-27T22:13:00.000-07:00

Please standby for a nervous breakdown, in:

5. The nursery isn't ready.
4. My house looks like it vomited on itself.
3. Did I mention the nursery isn't ready?
2. My three year old is sensing imminent and huge changes in his up until now blissful and unchallenged princedom. It's not going well.
1. And yeah, the NURSERY IS NOT FREAKING EVEN STARTED.

So.

I'm kind of going back and forth between acceptance and HUGE, irritable 'I'm 38 and a handful of days pregnant and things aren't just the way I want them and someone MUST PAY' rage.

I know my body is ready to be done being pregnant. I hurt everywhere. I have heartburn so bad that it makes my ear canals burn when I belch (which is all the time). Clothes are uncomfortable and I may start wearing caftans. Mrs. Roper chic...it's the hotness.

Mentally, I'm not ready. For some reason, my surroundings - i.e. my house - have to be completely prepared before I will let myself accept we're bringing another baby home. Logically I know that she's coming home no matter what and will not care if all she has is a bassinet, clean diapers and a boob.

But I care. Mucho.

Tomorrow, I have my second to last OB appointment. Yes, folks, this baby is coming whether I'm ready or not. And the way I'm carrying? I have a sneaking suspicion she may come early. Hold on, little girl. I need you to stay put till May 9. Do not deviate from the plan.

Looky here...mommy and daughter already butting heads. Yikes. Hopefully not a sign of things to come...

Couponing. For Real.

2011-04-19T21:23:00.000-07:00

The other day I ran to the grocery store to pick up a few ingredients for a birthday dessert for my husband. His favorite is chocolate mousse. Pretty simple: heavy cream, semisweet chocolate, butter, sugar, eggs.

So I head over to the dairy case and am about to grab a quart of heavy cream off the shelf. Then I looked at the price and nearly pooped myself.

Are you ready for it? EIGHT DOLLARS AND FIFTY CENTS. For heavy cream.

I audibly gasped as I put the quart back on the shelf and reached for the pint.

Seriously, groceries. What is going on?

Okay, so I'm married to an economics major, so I have an idea, but that doesn't make the sticker shock any less, erm, shocking. I mean, between food and gas, I feel like we are bleeding cash.

All I've been hearing about these days is couponing. The show on TLC baffles me. Those people walk out of the store with a thousand dollars worth of groceries for like, thirty bucks.

Part of me would love to try couponing and be successful at it but I have to point out a few things:

- Anyone else notice that these people fill their carts with a bunch of processed food? I spend most of our grocery budget on unprepared food.
- I feel like I'm watching a glorified version of Hoarders. Cause really, who needs 65 bottles of mustard?
- Couponing seems to be a full time job. Honestly, these people are making 5 hour shopping trips, on top of clipping newspapers and printing stuff online and sorting and organizing. Yuck.

So, I have to ask, is couponing a valid option for someone like me, who doesn't do a lot of processed food and is short on tome? Is it worth the effort?

I'm totally curious, but I also have a short attention span. I need to see results, asap.

Anybody have any luck? Advice? Success? Or is it a huge waste of time? Talk to me.

Stupid Things People Say #19029379003081209371987

2011-03-08T13:22:00.001-08:00

People say the most idiotic things to you while you're pregnant, but I may have the one that takes the cake.

A little background...my son was born via emergency c-section. So this new baby will be delivered via planned c-section. And yes, we do have a date. May 9.

I thought about trying a VBAC (vaginal birth after C, for those not in the know)for about two seconds. Then I remembered how harrowing my first experience was. And I spoke to my doctor, who made me feel good about my decision to deliver via C. I know that some women like to try, but for me, I just feel better about safety, for both me and the babe, going with the C. I'm not too keen on my uterus bursting during a contraction.

So, in short, yay for people who want to give natural a try after C, but it's not for me, and it's my decision.

And with that I'll hop off of my soapbox.

So, back to the asinine things people say...

Back in December during a holiday gathering (and I can't believe I didn't think to write about this until now), I was talking to a family member and they asked when I was due. I told them the estimated date, but also that we'd pick the date for the C. He didn't know I'd had an emergency C with G.

He made some comment about how that sucks (he's REALLY articulate) and I agreed, but jokingly said, 'At least I don't have to go through labor again.' And let me just say, if I could, I would have my children naturally. I've beat myself up over it, and struggled with many feelings of failure after my first attempt.

And he looks at me, dead serious, and says 'Well, that's cheating.'

Most of the time, I'd take that kind of comment as a joke. But if you knew this guy, and that he has no capacity for sarcasm and that he probably thinks facetious has something to do with the temperament of a dog, I knew he was not at all joking.

Yeah, I pretty much wanted to kick him in his ignorant nuts.

Because he is married to someone who has NO tolerance for pain, got an epidural at 2 centimeters dilated and basically sneezed her children out.

Because he's telling me I'M CHEATING BY HAVING MAJOR ABDOMINAL SURGERY.

Seriously.

SERIOUSLY.

You can't make this stuff up.

We're only related by marriage. We're only related by marriage. My children do not have any of his genes.

And that is a huge relief.

I Love Sugar But This is Ridiculous.

2011-02-25T10:19:00.000-08:00

I am sitting in the waiting room at the OB with three other pregnant women. We are watching the Ambush Makeover segment on The Today Show and all of us are crying.

In our defense, it's a really happy/sad story (they made over a woman suffering from MS who is wheelchair bound).

Oh, hormones.

So, I'm not just hanging out at the doc for fun. No, I'm here cause I flunked my first glucose screening. As of this moment, I am a little over halfway done with my three hour screening. What does this entail? Fast for twelve hours, get blood drawn, drink a God awful glucose drink, which I'm pretty sure is similar to what they put in hummingbird feeders, wait an hour, have a blood draw, wait an hour, have a blood draw, wait an hour, final blood draw.

Did I mention you can't eat? And that the Today show featured Paula Deen this morning?

Baby girl is going absolutely insane from all the sugar. It's a orange glucose drink fueled dance party in my uterus.

This test is to determine whether or not I have gestational diabetes. Fingers crossed I pass this test!

In the meantime, I am meticulously and obsessively planning what food I am going to hoover in exactly two hours...

Because Gestating is Not Enough...

2011-02-20T08:35:00.000-08:00

To Do List Before #2 Arrives:

1) Play Musical Bedrooms. G's room will become the nursery. Our room will become G's room. The front guest bedroom/office will become our room. Did I mention I have to clean out all three rooms and purge all the junk? I've been chipping away at it, but I have no idea how we've accumulated so much crap in five years.

2) Decorate Said Rooms. Paint. I think that's about all I can handle. I've picked out the nursery theme after about two months of agonizing. I wanted something girly but not over the top. Mostly, I didn't want all pastel - and this is what I chose:

[Yes, it's Pottery Barn. I tried to go all indie, but PB kept pulling me back in. Don't judge.]

You see that tiny bit of aqua in the corner of the bumper? That's the wall color. I think. So yes, there's a little pink, but the red kind of toughens it up a bit. At least that's what I'm telling myself.

3) Convert the Garage into a Family Room. I'm actually laughing at myself as I type this, because I think the chances of this happening are comparable to winning the lottery. We need the space so bad. But I'm thinking this will stay firmly on the to do list.

4) Have Some Kind of Garage Sale. Or, in alternative, rent a Uhaul and make a trip to Goodwill. Or have a massive bonfire in the backyard. This last option may become more viable the more stressed and crazy I get.

5) Potty Train G. Just kidding. This is a pipe dream. I've read all the books. I've tried several methods including just putting underwear on him and watching him like a hawk. Inevitably, I turn my back for five seconds and there's an accident. Am I getting judgment? Yes. Mostly from older relatives who are like, JUST FORCE HIM. Yeah. That's a great idea. I love the idea of scarring my child for life so things can be more convenient for me. Plus? I'm guessing even if I got him 'trained' by the time baby arrives, he'll regress. So potty training goes on the back burner. I'll just keep telling myself that he won't go to Kindergarten in diapers.

6) Pick Baby's Middle Name. Okay, I don't usually put my older child's name in this blog, but I'll this one time tell you (or maybe when she's born too) baby girl's name: we're calling her Charlotte. This has been our girl name for long before G was born. So now we need a middle name. I have a few in my head, but usually my ideas are poo-pooed immediately. I'm thinking maybe I won't bring it up at all and just use the one I pick when I fill out her birth certificate info? Cunning, I know. But I'm open to suggestions. I grew up with a super vanilla middle (and, let's face it, first) name, so unusual is good. Just no crazy spellings. That drives me nuts.

7) Stock the Freezer. I did a pretty good job of preparing and freezing meals before G was born and it was a life saver. I need to do the same this time, but I need some ideas. I usually do turkey chili, spaghetti sauce and a bunch of soups. If anybody has any easily freezable recipes, sent them to me...please! I'll love you forever. Not that I don't love you already...

I know there's much more I need to tackle. Those are the biggies.

Oh. I forgot something.

8) Try Not to Lose My Mind. It might be too late...

Blame The Social Network

2011-02-05T23:58:00.001-08:00

This is one of those posts where I have a million things going through my head but can't settle on one to write about.

My brain won't stop. It started about an hour ago, this unsettled feeling. I don't know why. What happened. Today was a really good day. Only a few meltdowns (from toddler), a birthday party for one of my dearest friend's son. Overall, laid-back busy. If that makes any sense.

After my son went to bed, my husband and I actually watched a movie together, which is super rare. We picked The Social Network - which was fantastic. (And I'm sure they took a lot of artistic license, but has Mark Zuckerberg been officially diagnosed with Aspergers or what?)

When the movie was over, the husband cut out to play World of Warcraft (I'm not even going to start on this...I'm such a WOW widow) and I got REALLY antsy. As in, it's 11:30 and I really should go to bed, but I need to clean the kitchen and put away laundry and start another load and, and, and...

All the while, I'm having a conversation with myself and it's going something like this:

"Wow, that kid is a billionaire and he's like 26 or something.You will be 33 in May. What have you accomplished.No seriously. What?"

And I'm beating myself up in my head while scrubbing the hell out of the kitchen counter.

Listen, it's not like I feel the need to be a billionaire. Not at all. Even though not having to worry about money would be a welcome change.

It's more the principal of the thing. Let's just say the dreams I had for myself when I was fresh out of college have very much gone by the wayside. So much so, I honestly can't remember what they were.

Yes, part of my plans included having a family. But I've never been one of those people that was like 'all I want in life is to be a mom.' It's just not me. I can't pretend that I'm okay with just dissolving into my family, becoming nonexistent.

I'm sure I'll feel better in the morning. I really hate when I get into these funks and start questioning everything. I think about jobs. I think about getting laid off. I think about choosing the wrong college. The wrong major (cause honestly, an English degree without a teaching certificate is really doing me NO good).

Then I tell myself I did one thing right. I picked my husband. That was good. And that wouldn't have happened if I'd gone to another college.

I guess it boils down to the feeling of being purpose-less. Okay, semi-purpose-less (how many hyphens can I fit into one word). I know that my main purpose is being a wife and a mom. And I love that. But then what?

You know, I completely blame The Social Network for tonight's insomnia. Next time I'm totally picking something that will make me feel like a winner.

In fact, I'm putting Joe Dirt on RIGHT NOW.

Purge 2011 aka I'm Crazy Pregnant

2011-01-30T08:20:00.000-08:00

In a little over three months, I will have a newborn. Scratch that...I will have a willful, 'busy' three year old (whom I adore) AND a new baby.

What was I thinking? Panic is setting in.

How do I deal with panic? Apparently, this time around it's manic organizing. Like today. Today I went through my spice cabinet. Chucked a ton of stuff. Things I never use (whole coriander seeds?) that I'm not sure I even bought, maybe they came with the house? Spices that didn't smell liken anything anymore. That can't be good.

Then I got really crazy. I pulled out my giant box of photos from high school, and purged it by half. Yes, I tossed photographs. Which is generally against everything I believe. But I've got the pregnancy crazies, and by God, I do not need 30 out of focus photos of my sophomore prom date.

A side note, I found a receipt from The Gap in that box from 1994, for a pair of jeans. Guess how much they cost?

$34. I kid you not.

Anyway, I'm kind of scaring myself. I'm worried I'll end up throwing something important out in one of my fits. Then again, it would probably be wise to just roll with this newfound ability to shed unnecessary crap. Since in real life, I'm a few boxes of twist ties away from Hoarders.

Mother of the Year

2011-01-27T16:15:00.001-08:00

Ugh.

I can't believe I let my little man's birthday pass with out a post!

Don't worry, at least we celebrated in real life. Which I guess is the important thing.

So, a few days late, Happy Birthday, G-Rex!

I love everything about you. I love that you're 'busy'. How you are so sensitive and always asking how I'm feeling.

How you say 'grayby' for gravy and 'eyegrows' for eyebrows.

How you will pick fruit and vegetables over junk food every day of the week.

That you love Wall-E and seem to understand it better than a three year old should.

That you watch ESPN with Daddy and know who Kornheiser and Wilbon are.

And your obsession with Thomas the Tank Engine? Oh.My.Goodness.

I just love you, kiddo. You've made me a better person. It is absolutely my privilege to be your mama.

I just can't wait to see you as a big brother and watch you grow.

Late Breaking News: Va Jay Jay Wand Works!

2011-01-11T15:22:00.000-08:00

So I'm reading the title to this post and it sounds a lot like I'm writing about a sex toy. But I'm leaving it, cause I want people to be all disappointed when they come here to perv out and I'm talking about the gender of my unborn child.

You all are sick. Sick, I say!

Anyhow, I'm very late getting here to report that we are, to the relief of many family members, having a girl child. And don't get me wrong, I'm beyond thrilled. Over the moon (gag). But I have to be honest...all the boy hate had me a little up in arms and indignant.

Moving on, though. Moving on. I'm a little over halfway through this pregnancy. I don't know if it's the extra girl fetus estrogen, but I have to admit, I've been a weepy mess. Yeah, I know pregnant ladies are emotional, but I can barely even turn the television on these days without getting verklempt. Have you seen those 'Foundation for a Better Life' spots? Brutal. BRUTAL.

My little G has been sick since Sunday. There is nothing worse than the look of terror on a little kid's face when they throw up. I think he's on the upswing. Now here's to hoping I don't get sick. Where's the Purell?

This little post is going to be, well, little. Cause little dude is waking up from a nap and I've got to resume coaxing him to eat. Next up?Popsicles. For him too.

It's Almost Christmas and I Haven't Kicked Anyone (Yet)

2010-12-16T12:33:00.000-08:00

Something very strange is happening to me this year.

I'm enjoying the holidays.

Maybe it's because I actually feel pretty prepared this year. I don't think I am actually more prepared than usual, I just decided to give myself a break this year.

It probably has more to do with my son actually getting excited over Christmas this year. He loves the tree and is showing it by letting it remain upright, rather than pushing it over and removing the ornaments. We read 'The Night Before Christmas' every night, and he has it memorized. He plays constantly with his nativity scene. We went and saw Santa and he was SO excited he actually behaved.

It is so cliche, but so true. Reliving Christmas through your children can somehow smother the Grinch.

Admittedly, I'm still dreading some family functions, but honestly? There are relatives I dread seeing no matter what time of year. Like the one who eyeballs me in horror and wonders out loud how I've gained so much weight (uh, I'm pregnant?). Or the one who compares my son to her grandchild who is three months younger and potty trained and why isn't G potty trained and you really need to get him potty trained before the new baby arrives.

I would like to add that that particular relative will bombard me with this 'advice', then in the same breath add that her daycare potty trained her child because she couldn't handle it.

And then, we have the numerous family members who are obsessed with me having a girl this time round. Not even joking, I think they will be literally angry with me if I have a boy.

I'll see what I can do. Monday is the 'big' ultrasound, so maybe I can wave my magic wand and guarantee a vagina.

If not, I'm seriously considering calling in sick to a few upcoming functions.

Back in the Warm Glow of the Internets

2010-12-05T07:56:00.000-08:00

Just as I'm all 'Hey world, I'm going to blog more!', my computer goes belly up.

That was two weeks ago. A trojan took me down. I have no idea where it came from. And honestly, I was stunned it got through all the security on this computer. But hackers are assholes. Crafty assholes.

Thankfully, my husband is some kind of IT whiz. And yesterday, he got this hunk of junk back working. I don't know how. Basically it required wiping the entire hard drive and reinstalling eleventy billion updates.

But thank you, husband, for your tireless efforts to get me back online!

You don't know how much your rely on the Internets until you do not have access. I didn't miss stuff like email or Facebook, probably because they're on my phone. But things like banking, bills, SHOPPING. You know, the important stuff.

You should have seen me on cyber Monday. I was climbing the walls thinking about all the unmissable deals I was losing out on.

Tragic.

Now I'm doing a mad scramble to finish my Christmas shopping online. I honestly tried the old fashioned way, but me (pregnant) and my toddler (worst shopping partner EVER) epically fail at at real shopping.

I even went out at midnight on Black Friday. The deals weren't that great, but I was childless and managed to check off almost all of my nieces and nephews.

But it wasn't the same as sitting on the couch, with a cup of tea, clicking away, NOT waiting in line and having stuff just show up on my doorstep.

I'm in my pajamas, unshowered, with coffee. And I'm going shopping.

Internets, I love you and lets not be apart again.

Not to Complain, But...

2010-11-11T09:33:00.000-08:00

So I've already gone over the barfing. Which seems to be subsiding (knock wood).

But dude, this pregnancy has been so completely different from my first. Which was mellow and relatively easy.

I think it's a dirty trick. Cause now I have a toddler to chase.

A toddler who likes to run into the bathroom while I'm vomiting and turn the light on and off as fast as he can. Nothing makes barfing more enjoyable than doing it under a strobe.

My first pregnancy, odors bothered me, but not to the point where I'm nearly homicidal over my dogs standing by me (THEY REEK) or where I'm tempted to punch the lady in the grocery store who bathed in White Diamonds.

About a month ago, I went insane and decided I needed to deodorized the carpet in the living room. I used a powder for 'pet odor'. It was described as a 'fresh scent'.

For me, 'fresh scent' brings to mind clean air, fresh laundry, you know, stuff that has a pleasant aroma.

Arm & Hammer's idea of 'fresh' is more like junior high boys locker room...musky and sweaty and foot fungus-y coated in cheap spray deodorant and a touch of Drakkar.

The next week of my life was devoted to getting the 'freshness' out of my carpet. Incessant vacuuming. Then I steam cleaned. Twice.

It's almost gone, but once and a while, it will waft up from places unknown and I want to burn the carpet and all the living room furniture in a big bonfire in the backyard.

So my nose is going crazy. I wonder if I can get my hands on some of that stuff medical examiners smear under their nostrils while performing autopsies?

Just a thought.

I'm Going to Try to Write This Between Dry Heaving (Urp)

2010-11-04T15:27:00.000-07:00

Blogging has been on the dead bottom of my list for a while. I've clicked over here, looked around for a minute or two, thought about writing something. left.

It's hard to write about stuff when you've only got one thing on your mind and you're not supposed to talk about it.

But as of today, I'm talking.

I'm pregnant, knocked up, in the family way. About 12 weeks, so just about in my second trimester.

And I am so ready to be in the glorious second trimester. That promised land where you're not supposed to feel like you're dying every waking second. This pregnancy has been NOTHING like my first. My first, I had a little nausea, but nothing that couldn't been soothed with well timed snacks.

This time? Well, I'll put it this way...my OB gave my a prescription for the same nausea meds they generally give to chemo patients. On top of that, unbelievable fatigue - so bad I could literally lay down in the middle of the living room and sleep after only being awake for a couple of hours. And dizziness. And headaches.

It's been the pits, for serious.

But I see light at the end of the tunnel. The other night I told my husband, well, it will end. Maybe not till the baby is out, but it will end (please God, let it end SOON).

Of course, the drastic difference in this pregnancy has led to all kinds of speculation on the baby...IT'S A GIRL. Or, are you sure it's not twins? Yes, I had the doctor triple check. So unless someones really good at hiding, the Nugget is a singleton.

I'm calling it Nugget, by the way. For now.

So, there you have it...I haven't died, though to be honest, some days I've thought the end is near. I won't be such a stranger. Promise.

Now excuse me while I go sip on some damn ginger tea.

Attention. Attention, Por Favor!

2010-09-09T17:03:00.000-07:00

Hey!
You!
Are you looking to lose a little (or a lot) of weight?
Do you love Survivor?
Do you want to win some kick ass prizes?

Okay.
Go here now.
And sign up.
That is all.
Carry on.

This Post is Not About the Duggars. Really.

2010-08-29T08:57:00.000-07:00

Since I've obviously hit some kind of rut and have nothing interesting or funny to write about, I'm in the process of a blog redesign. Because I'm pretty sure if my blog looks cooler/cuter I will miraculously be inspired and the words will pour forth and I'll have the popularity of Dooce.

Or not.

But I am redesigning - with help, of course, cause I'm technologically worthless. I'm okay with that. I'm just glad I have friends that have got my back on that front. It's give and take; I keep them honest about punctuation and grammar. It's all good.

If I had to focus in on my 'writer's block' (I seriously hate that term) and figure out what the root cause is, I'd have to say...well...um...

How about this: if I knew, I'd effing fix it? Right?

Some days I have a lot to say, but I have to self censor. Cause honestly, if I wrote everything I thought, you all would think I was crazy. Funny, possibly, but probably crazy and most likely mean and snarky.

I've thought about just letting loose and seeing if I start getting hate mail. I posted ONE TIME, long ago about the Duggars, and got quite a bit of negative feedback. Which was the most bizarre thing - Duggar supporters literally materialized out of nowhere and commented on my blog. Which leads me to believe there is a Duggar army that sits on Google all day long searching for anything Duggar related (which I completely understand, they are kind of fascinating).

I bet I'll get a bunch of Duggar hits just from this post. Watch.

Anyway. I'm trying to figure out my image.

Bear with me.

Right Now

2010-08-21T12:32:00.000-07:00

For the first time in a long time, I'm content and peaceful.

My mom is home from Alaska (she's been up there for 7 weeks) - I have a feeling that was the first piece of the puzzle. She lives an hour and a half away, but its nice to know she's THERE, you know? Plus, she has the patience of a saint with my child, who has decided to be Whiney McWhinerson as of late.

He's still cute though. I'll keep him, I think.

So my mommy is home.

My husband and I are getting along really great. Like, actually having fun together. Not that we don't generally get along, but you know, life is stressful.

I've gotten to spend some time with old friends. Ones that have known me since I was in grade school. Something about reconnecting with people that have seen all phases of your life is so soothing.

Especially if they like to laugh.

Summer is winding down. I'm sad it's coming to a close. Not that it's been the best summer...the weather has been less than ideal and I've struggled with so many ups and downs.

But like everything in life, seasons change and we start fresh.

My mother-in-law has finally been placed in her final resting place. It was excruciating for all of us to revisit that grief, but we know now she's where she wanted to be...and that is comforting. Now I hope the healing can finally begin.

The rest of this summer? I plan to soak in as much fun as possible.

Starting now.

Unease

2010-08-14T10:10:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, when I'm really nervous, or dreading something, I get this strange sensation where my legs start to feel numb and my heart races.

It also happens when I realize I may have just cheated death/injury/witnessing something horrible/getting a ticket. Like when you're driving and someone starts aggressively coming into your lane...and then notices you and jerks back over? Or when brakes squeal and you see a couple of cars just miss nailing each other at a red light. And just once and a while, when I am exceeding the speed limit and I pass a cop and just wait for them to pull out after me (the only time it's okay for a cop to follow you is if they're on a motorcycle and look like Ponch).

So I've never been able to put a label on what exactly it is I'm feeling. I could say maybe it's relief, but it never feels GOOD. Just weird.

Lately, I've been getting that feeling when I have to visit with certain people. As I near wherever we are meeting up, a really dark feeling descends over me. And then I get the numb legs and the pit in my stomach and the angry thoughts creeping into my head.

I brace for whatever I'm going to have to deal with.

What is this? I was thinking fight or flight. But it's like anticipatory fight or flight. Like I know I'm going to be offended, pissed off and sad. Before it even happens.

And it usually happens.

I think there is a lot to be said for intuition. I think that maybe I'm sensing something is VERY wrong. Never in my life have I had such morbid thoughts creep into my head.

It's disturbing. I question whether the universe is trying to tell me something. Very frankly, I don't think my mind would be going the places is has been without a reason.

Time will tell. I hope I am wrong, and maybe, after a while, I can get rid of this uneasiness.

Pat, I'd like a F for $1000.

2010-08-11T15:04:00.000-07:00

This is probably not what my mom intended when she sent these magnets to my son.

But it pretty much sums up my week. Hoping it gets better.

Summer Here

2010-08-05T06:00:00.000-07:00

Summer here?

It's messy, muddy, grimy. It's all boy.

Our summer is in our backyard. We spend a lot of time back there. It's not perfect. It would make Martha Stewart curl into a ball and cry 'Hold me!' Toys everywhere. Some broken. A pool my child won't go in. Grass that is in need of a mow. Half eaten dog toys.

Yeah, it's not exactly classy.

But you know what else it has? Memories. And I kind of love that. Dirt and all.

For more summer, breeze on over to I Should Be Folding Laundry for You Capture.

Nap Please

2010-08-04T14:10:00.000-07:00

Have I mentioned that I am tired today? The kind of tired that I feel as if my eyelashes have tiny weights tied on them with tiny little strings. Serious, narcolepsy type tired. So tired I scared myself driving to and from the post office.

And? My toddler is on day four of NO NAP AT ALL. Which I hesitate to admit, but is probably a sign of the extinction of the daytime nap.

!*@*)#^&*%.

He's faked me out a couple of times in the past, but the last few days have been different. As in, I put him in his room and all he does is remove every toy from its basket, every book from the shelf and every article of clothing from the drawers. All while screaming at the top of his lungs.

Things aren't looking too promising.

I tried to get him lie on the couch with me for a rest, but all that accomplished was me being half awake, feeling even more groggy and him hitting me with books he wanted read.

Right now, he's alternately watching Yo Gabba Gabba and trying to hijack my keyboard.

I still need to work out today, clean and make meals.

Time to brew some coffee and pray for an early bedtime...for him and for me!

Frolic!

2010-07-29T05:00:00.000-07:00

My cousin and her family are up this week from California. My grandmother lives right on the 'beach' (mudflats). While a lot of people think mudflats are kind of gross, they are PERFECT kid beaches. Sand forever, not a lot to hurt your feet on, and the water (when you finally reach it) is nice and warm.

We got in some great playtime.

On the way home, G said 'I had a great day today.'

We did. We really did.

For more play, jump on over to I Should Be Folding Laundry for You Capture.

Dewey Decimal is An A-hole.

2010-07-28T14:38:00.000-07:00

I've been working on budgeting better and was looking at expenses - and noticed that hoooo doggies, I spend a lot on books. Too much.

So I decided to get me a library card. I found our local library system online and signed up - and the card came in the mail yesterday. It said all I needed to do was show up with picture i.d. and my card and I'd be golden.

Here's what I forgot about public libraries. Since I actually haven't set foot inside one in um, ten or so years.

You can't find shit.

That is, unless you're good friends with Dewey Decimal. And believe me, I would have no problem getting reacquainted with him, but stupid me, I brought my toddler to the library with me. I thought he'd be awestruck by all the books. That he'd sit down in a little beanbag chair and pore over all the wonderful picture books.

[Not my kid]

I had a rude awakening when I was reminded that my child is not, and will never be, that child. A library child. He's more of a let 'em loose in WalMart child. A park child. A circus child. Not a 'quiet place' child.

Especially a quiet place with a ginormous fish tank.

FIIIIIISSHHHHHH!!! Fish! Mommeeeee, fish!!

Yeah, I see them.

I figured out pretty quickly that the little list of books I wanted to find, so neatly tucked inside my purse, would be staying put. No books for me today.

We went directly to the children's section. Where my son decided to lie down on the floor and roll around. I grabbed for a couple books that looked semi interesting, scooped him up under my arm and made for the checkout counter.

All the way there, he made a racket. Mommeeeee! Books!! BOOOOOOKKEEEEES! Even the men at computers hunched over the free internet (porn) stopped and looked up.

My saving grace was that there were a few 'recommended' books right by checkout. And one was, in fact, on my little list.

Thank you God. I hope you don't mind me picking up a book that has 'blue balls' in the title. It's been a rough day.

Shelved

2010-07-26T08:26:00.000-07:00

For some reason unbeknownst to me, I have been on a organizational tear recently. This is far from normal for me. My house is all sorts or random and cluttered. Let me rephrase that - certain ROOMS of my house are straight out of Hoarders.

So I've been slowly (very slowly) tackling one project after another. I'm gearing up for a garage sale (hopefully soon) and am pretty proud of myself for getting rid of stuff. I come from a long line of collectors and it's hard for us to part with, um, everything. My grandma used to rinse out plastic baggies and foil and reuse them. I suppose you could say she was a pioneer of recycling. Or just that she was super frugal.

The latest room I'm trying to tackle is our office/guest room/scary catchall for the entire house that is like those closets that you open and a bunch of crap topples out - except its an entire room.

Last Fall, that room became my mother-in-law's, when she was undergoing chemo and radiation. Really going through everything, not just tossing things into boxes, like REALLY delving in - I'm not going to lie, it was really sad. Bits of her were still here. The informational booklets about lung cancer and quitting smoking. A binder full of information for caregivers. Tons of hand sanitizer. The flip flops she borrowed from me when putting shoes on became difficult. The flannel sheets my sister in law brought for her.

I got through everything that was for her. I threw out the information on cancer. I know enough about that asshole right now. Her sheets, I folded and put in the back of the closet. I put on the pink flip flops.

And I got back to work.

I dug in even further. Into the things I shoved into storage bins when she came to live with us. Things that I was working on, getting into, when we discovered she would be staying with us.

Everything on that's been on indefinite hold.

I found a packet from Seattle University with application materials for their accelerated teacher certification/master's program. Honestly, I had completely forgotten about looking into going back to school.

Also? All my 'craft' stuff. Not that I'm super crafty, but I have been known to make cards from time to time.

Then I pulled out all the fabric and thread I'd purchased because I was going to start sewing. My sewing machine was shoved underneath a desk.

I pulled all the sewing stuff out. I think it's time to take life off pause.

Last week, I signed up for a Sew Along over at my friend Andrea's blog (check it out!). I'm making the Daphne dress. The precut fabric came in the mail today. No excuses. Not sure who will benefit from my first attempt at sewing clothing (ha ha ha), but I'm thinking my niece will be the lucky recipient.

It's time to start ticking things off the list.

Black. And White.

2010-07-21T21:27:00.001-07:00

Black and white. I just love it...it's so, well, CLEAN. Crisp.

We got out a lot this week, and I captured some wonderful moments.

At the zoo...kissing the hippopotamus statue.

At home, modeling the new big boy haircut.

Visiting Thomas the Tank engine...hanging out on the train.

For more black and white shots, scoot on over to I Should Be Folding Laundry for You Capture.

A Frat Boy Trapped in a Thirtysomething Mom's Body

2010-07-20T09:59:00.000-07:00

The other night I was on Twitter, having a conversation with some girlfriends. Whoever follows me on Twitter, well, they probably think I'm mental. Because I won't go on Twitter for DAYS. Then, one night, I'll have like 50 tweets about random, random stuff.

Anyhow, the other night, the conversation somehow got to drinking (imagine). And I brought up beer bongs. And luges (I had to explain this one...you carve a 'luge' in a block of ice, then pour shots down the luge into a waiting mouth). And keg stands.

Then I made the suggestion that my friends make a beer bong and let their kids do hits off of it with root beer, then have a burping contest.

And with that, I nominate myself for the trashy parent of the year award.

Reading all my drinking suggestions would probably lead you to believe I was (or am) some kind of crazy partier. But I wasn't. For reals. The height of my partying was for about one year in college (okay, maybe two). The rest of the time, I was working 40 hours a week while taking 15-18 credits per quarter. Not a lot of time for fun. Or hangovers.

Still, I seem to have a wealth of information on drinking games/stupid methods of getting obliterated. Let's just say I'm observant. Maybe it's where I'm from. There wasn't a lot to do out in Podunk, WA except drink, go four-wheelin', and get knocked up. None of which I actually DID in high school. Cause I was SO SO SO boring. Not that getting knocked up is a good way to be interesting. Let's just say I wasn't even doing the things to get knocked up.

So, just in case you were following me on Twitter that night, I'm not a raging alcoholic, and I promise not to train my child on the beer bong. I'll wait till he's at least 12.

A Time Where Something Sucking is a Good Thing

2010-07-13T18:42:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago I was vacuuming and noticed the little red light come on, the one letting me know that the bag is full.

I was out of bags.

Of course.

Then I got to thinking...I have never owned a NEW vacuum cleaner. Like, ever. Every single one has been a hand me down. And I'm not complaining, not even a little, because this girl loves hand me downs. Big time.

But I had been noticing I vacuum and vacuum and vacuum and there is ALWAYS still dog hair in the carpet. Nasty.

I decided instead of buying new vacuum bags, well, I was just going to buy a new vacuum. Always logical, this one.

After doing quite a lot of research (okay, I sorted by highest stars on Amazon), I settled on a Bissell Pet Hair Eraser.

Promising.

I ordered it up and waited (only two days, love that Amazon Prime!).

And it arrived a few days ago.

You know when the vacuum box has a picture of your pet, you've got a big shedder.

Vacuum Box

Carl - and honestly, I'm kind of pissed at him for holding out on the proceeds from that modeling job.

I know you're just dying to know how well the vacuum worked. (Okay, maybe not. But I'm still going to tell you.)

Ohmycrikey, DID IT WORK.

And? GROSS.

I got this much, out of an 8 x 10 area of carpet. Twice.

Barf.

By the way, this post was not sponsored in any way, shape or form by Bissell, but if they want to pass on Carl's commission check, that'd be fab.

This vacuum? It totally sucks.

Well Read

2010-07-01T21:47:00.000-07:00

I adore reading. As long as I can remember, I have devoured books. The library was one of my favorite places to go as a child. In the summer, we'd go every few weeks, and I'd walk out, barely able to peer over the teetering stack of books precariously perched in my arms.

My mom stopped sending me to my room for punishment, cause to me? That was like heaven. I could just go read and read and read.

Judy Blume was my favorite. Of course, I would get in trouble for reading her. Cause they were 'sexy'. All that talk about breasts and periods. Um....

I guess Forever was a little racy. Maybe.

I do remember getting my hands on a copy of Elvis and Me, Priscilla Presley's autobiography, when I was about ten. Totally inappropriate, and the person who lent it to me? My eighty year old great grandma. My mom didn't catch me with that one till I was done and re-reading it.

Then I moved on to Sweet Valley High. I always pretended like I liked Elizabeth better, because she was the sweet twin, but I always really wanted to be Jessica. And I bet you did too. Liar.

And those really awful Christopher Pike murder mysteries? Read those too. Those were like soft teenaged porn, really. Our parents had NO IDEA.

In college I majored in English and actually hated reading for a few years cause I had to do it, all the time, and then listen to a bunch of bespectacled (but they only wore the glasses to appear intellectual) blow-hards yammer on about Proust and Thoreau. And I had to read poetry and I know it's sacrilege for an English major to admit this but OMGIHATEPOETRYWITHTHEFIREOF1000SUNS. This stems from being forced to try to find something meaningful out of a bunch of words some dude wrote while he was doing copious amounts of opium or whatever. I do, however, enjoy a good dirty limerick.

When I worked outside of the home, I actually had time to read during the day, and read and read and read. On the train, at lunch, in traffic (just kidding, kind of...have you been in Seattle traffic?).

And then, when I became a stay at home mom? The reading came to an abrupt and grinding halt. But I have figured out how to work in some reading time. Usually it occurs in the bathroom. In the bathtub or the other place, whatever, don't judge. And I try to read before I go to bed. Usually this concludes with me passed out, drooling, the book on my chest.

Have I read any good books lately? Lots! I'm in love with the Girl With the Dragon Tattoo series. And yes, I have been reading the Sookie novels, the ones True Blood is based on...brainless? Yes. But so fun.

Also, my friend Andrea sent me a wonderful book called Cold Tangerines when I was having a rough time - it's about finding the small joys in life. It's a perfect little book, you can read a chapter at a time, and it is just, well, uplifting (thanks again, Andy).

On my nightstand, I've got The Help. That's next. I've heard wonderful things about it. Can't wait to dig in.

What have you read lately? I'd love some suggestions. I need to keep the nightstand stocked.

Green

2010-06-30T21:46:00.001-07:00

This week I was lucky enough to get to play around with a zoom lens. I haven't mastered the zoom, but oh, how I loved it! This is an expensive hobby I've gotten myself into. Crikey. My capture for the week? Green. Very green.

For more You Capture, zoom (ha) on over to I Should Be Folding Laundry.

On the Ground

2010-06-24T06:37:00.000-07:00

Things look different, down on the ground.

And I'm sure my neighbors enjoy the crazy lady rolling around in the lawn with her camera. Got to keep the masses happy, right? Every neighborhood needs a nut. I guess that'll be me this week...

There's so much to see, though. And the weather, well, it wasn't raining. So we'll call that GOOD. That's actually fantastic. And someday, I'll stop bitching about the weather around here. Like, when I'm dead.

While on my tummy, I snapped: Some flowers that we thought were gone, but came back to life. And they're so special, because they came from my mother in law's hospital room.

And do you know what this is? Thyme. I thought it was edible thyme and was informed by my husband that it isn't. And I was like, for goodness sake, why would you plant a herb that isn't edible... This is why...
Oh!

It's flowering thyme. A gorgeous little purple-y carpet in the flower bed.

Then I had a visitor, our first baby, Bridget the cat. She had been rolling around in the dirt and looks, well, homeless.

I think she needs a haircut. But I'm terrified of the claws of fury.

Finally, I had to include a shot of someone who is on the ground all the time. Her whole world consists of things under two feet tall...

My gorgeous little cue ball niece at her first Father's Day gathering. Baby cheeks. Num.
For more shots at ground level, crawl on over to You Capture at I Should Be Folding Laundry .

B to the ORED

2010-06-23T13:44:00.000-07:00

I am bored. Bored. Bored. Bored.

Don't get me wrong. There's plenty to do. Plenty of stuff that's no fun. Like organizing and cleaning and laundry and such.

The last six months have been filled with so many highs and lows and things to look forward to (and things that I dreaded) that now I'm just all funned/sadded out. (Do you like how I make up words as I go? Yes, nice work, English major. But let's face it. I graduated almost 10 years ago and that good old degree has not been put to much use. )

So I guess I've turned into somewhat of an addict. An addict who needs something to look forward to - anticipation is my crack. For a long time, I had travel and a race to dream about. Now? Well, for a few months, nada. I do have a wedding to attend in September, very excited about that...but it's in September. I need something NOW. (Megan, can you move the wedding up a few months? KTHANKS!)

Then, after the wedding...uh, Christmas? And if you know how I feel about the holiday season, well, not so much.

I know, a lot of people are telling me HAVE A BABY!

Which is a really good idea, you know, having a kid cause you're bored? Yeah. I like it.

Having a baby is not off the table, but you know, even if I got pregnant today (AND I'M NOT, even if the guy at Costco thinks I look it) , I'd have to wait nine months. Actually, ten. 40 weeks = 10 months.

And then some other people are like, hey, run a marathon. Well. Hmmm. No thanks. The training that goes into a marathon is just not something that would fly around this house. Bye honey, I need to go on five hour training run, catch ya later! Um, no. I do like to see my husband, you know, every once and a while.

Plus? After seeing all the poop carnage during my half? Holy crap. For reals. Those porta-johns would have made a sewage worker cringe.

So yeah, bored. Inspired? Yes. Motivated. No. Not such a great combination.

What to do? Any suggestions are welcome. Except those ideas from the effing spammers, who still think I'm into some kinky stuff.

And Blogger, why in the hell does word verification not work? I'm going to cheat on you with Wordpress, I swear.

Race Recap, My Style

2010-06-17T14:12:00.000-07:00

Two weeks ago I was packing frantically for San Diego. Making checklists. And checklists for those lists. Double checking...shoes, GPS watch, running clothes, fuel belt.

And, and, and.

Little did I know what was going to happen to me three days later. I knew that I was going to run, or attempt to run, 13.1 miles. I knew that I had to get up at 3:30 am. I knew that it was going to be grueling.

What I didn't realize was how this race was going to affect me, as a person. How it would touch my heart and my spirit in so many ways that I didn't think running a race could. Yeah, it was a lot about running, but even more? It was about being part of something greater than myself, knowing that I'd played a part in an event that was bringing good to a lot of lives.

While I could do a play by play of how much it hurt, or what each mile was like, I want to actually talk about parts of the race that really moved me, emotionally. Cause there were a lot. Christy and I decided to pace together, and for me, that was so incredible. To share so many things with someone over a physically challenging course is something that I will always treasure. And I'm glad she's a sap like me - there were many times we were crying while we were running. At one point, Christy said she was hyperventilating from crying. Running and crying do not combine well. But there were so many moments:

Running by men in the military who were SERVING US WATER. Oh, my goodness. They already do so much. Them standing there, handing us those little cups? Seriously, that really got me.
On the freeway stretch, we ran by a little person. She was maybe up to my waist, her legs were bowed, and running looked painful for her. But there she was, pushing her limits. I mean, how can I EVER complain when someone with the physical challenges she has is running a 1/2 marathon?
Passing a woman who had clearly done chemo recently. Her hair was starting to come back in, downy and soft. She was walking, head held high, with a shirt that exclaimed 'SURVIVOR.'
The blind woman, walking the half, and I'm pretty sure she was on her own. She was using a cane, feeling her way along the pavement. She was small and her shirt read 'Little Giant'. When someone who literally is missing one of her senses can get herself out there and do a half...well, that's pretty freaking amazing.
All the supporters lining the route. A sea of purple. I could not have asked for better motivation than people yelling 'GO TEAM' and high fiving as I passed.
Whenever we hit a hill, I'd say 'WE OWN THIS HILL.' I'm sure that didn't get old (ha ha).
At mile 12, when I was running out of gas, I looked to my left and out of nowhere, I saw the mom of one of my high school friends. She is a Team in Training coach. She gave me a hug and ran with me for a little bit, and I so needed that.
Crossing the finish line with (okay, almost with, she beat me by a second) with Christy. What an incredible experience to share! Half mary sisters for life, girlfriend!

Celebrating afterwards with all my girls from Team Shrinking Jeans. So amazing to get to see everyone in real life. They're all in my heart forever.

So I guess that's not a traditional race recap, but out of everything, these are the things that stick with me. Not the pain, not the damned slanted freeway (okay, that sucked), not the heinously disgusting porta-johns and how gross runners are with their pooping. Not how I thought I lost my driver's license through the entire race (thanks again, Christy, for talking me down) only to find it in my checked bag at the end. Not Christy forgetting sunscreen and having to holler 'SUNSCREEN?' at every TNT coach on the route.

Not the guy who ran in Batman briefs. Okay, maybe that.

When I signed up with Team in Training, I was thinking, yeah, I'll train for and run a 1/2 marathon. That's awesome.

And it was.

But I didn't bargain for how I'd feel differently inside, how this would change me. For the better, I think.

GO TEAM!

Low Tide

2010-06-16T21:47:00.001-07:00

Last week, for a few days, the sun came out. And, coincidentally, we had a record low tide. I'm so glad someone alerted me to this fact because I'm clueless.

Off to the beach we went. It was not even 70, and people were in their swimsuits. Hey, if it's over 50, Washingtonians are in shorts - 70? Yeah, that's tropical.

I do complain about the weather here in Washington A LOT. Like, all the time. But, seriously? It can be pretty breathtaking when we have a respite from the rain.

Yeah, I kind of love it here.

When it's not raining.

For more water shots, float on over to You Capture.

Gift Cards Are Good. Land's End Gift Cards Are Great!

2010-06-12T07:51:00.000-07:00

I triple heart Lands Ends, and real quick like, I wanted to let you all know about a really super duper easy way to enter a drawing for a $100 gift card to Lands End. You know, for school shopping (or an outift for yourself, ahem). So, here are the deets:

Take the Lands’ End 2010 Back-to-School Survey at http://www.surveymonkey.com/s/XKS6ZZ9. Participants who complete the survey by 12 a.m. EDT on Sunday, June 13 will be entered into a drawing for one of five $100 Lands' End gift cards. Winners will be selected at random and will be notified on or around the week of July 5, 2010.
Bloggers who complete the survey as well as include the link in a post will receive one additional entry into the drawing for the gift cards. To receive your second entry, please send a link or screenshot of your post to Katie at katie@fedorukinc.com.

That's it. Super easy. Ten minutes, max. You can do it!

Go forth and pass it on!

Fun? YES.

2010-06-10T09:00:00.000-07:00

I went to San Diego last weekend with Team Shrinking Jeans.

We raised over 43K for The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.

We ran, ralked or walked 13.1 miles.

Then?

We celebrated.

There was 'burrowing',

And laughing,

And dancing, lots of dancing,

And Irish Car Bombs (Christie forced Melissa, for serious),

And a ride through the Gaslamp District on a pedicab. The poor driver. I think we scared him.

So fun? Yeah, we had some fun.

You want some more fun? Head on over to I Should Be Folding Laundry for You Capture!

Best

2010-06-03T09:58:00.001-07:00

So I finally managed to get my hands on a Nikon D40 for my birthday/mother's day. And in the nick of time, cause I was ready to run over my point and shoot.

I've been having SO much fun with this new camera. It is incredible how much better the quality is, how much more clear and vibrant. So. Much. Fun.

My favorite photo so far with my new camera has to be this one:

My son on my dad's fishing boat, just before he left for Alaska for the salmon season. What is it with little boys and CB radios? I swear he automatically said 'Breaker, breaker...roger that.'

The cuteness.

For more best shots, head on over to Beth's and check out You Capture.

Why Can't I Just Not Care?

2010-05-29T13:34:00.000-07:00

Do you ever wonder what it would be like if you could just not care? Seriously. Like just walk away, not care, turn a blind eye?

Sometimes, I think my life would be a lot simpler if I had that ability.

Recently, I tried to turn over a new leaf and be more open minded, loving, accepting. To be more helpful and less judgmental.

Because deep down? I like to help people. So I tried my hardest. I tried so hard it made my head hurt and my heart ache. I tried so, so hard.

But, I've come to realize, some people do not want my help. They don't want help at all.

Also? I've realized that no matter how hard you try, not everyone is going to like you. There may be no good reason, but it is what it is.

My personality type really takes issue with being disliked. I've never done well with people not liking me, especially if I dig deep and am really honest with myself and I still can't figure out why they don't like me.

Yes, I'm whining. But I truly struggle with this.

And some days, I really question the value of empathy. Don't get me wrong, I value empathy, but can you care too much? Is it a waste of energy and emotion to make kind gestures towards people who continually throw it back in your face?

Hot Mess

2010-05-19T14:12:00.000-07:00

Today is my birthday - I'm the big 3-2.

Woo. Hoo.

No, I'm not all freaked out about getting older. I just don't get so excited about birthdays anymore. I really can't remember the last time I did anything for my birthday except maybe go out to dinner.

Which is fine.

No, really. I promise.

But sitting here today made me think about where I was ten years ago on my birthday. England. Having way too much fun. WAY TOO MUCH. As in, if you look up pent up, goody two shoes set loose in a foreign land with lots of booze in the dictionary, there's my picture.

See?

That's me on the left. Yes, I am standing on a table (I was wearing a miniskirt standing on a table, cause I totally am classy like that). Yes, I am doing 'rock on horns' with my fingers. I can tell you that I remember that night and it didn't end pretty. Oh no.

Did I mention I drank a lot? Yeah. This drink in my hand? It's called a Snakebite and it is pure evil in a glass. In fact, many pubs over there will not serve this concoction because people end up doing stupid things after drinking a few...YOU DON'T SAY. The bartenders never had a problem serving those bad boys up to us silly exchange students.

Which brings me to this day,exactly ten years ago.

The birthday celebration extraordinaire. My twenty-second birthday fell at the end of the school year. I'd made some great friends and we were ready to cut loose.

I decided that I wanted to cook dinner for all my roommates. Nice gesture, no?

Except for the fact that I started drinking around noon. So, by the time dinner time rolled around, let's just say my knife skills weren't so great. I did not cut myself, but I'm pretty sure I grated some knuckle with the parmesan.

We hit the pub, stayed there till it closed, then hit the local disco. I remember pretty much everything that night, which is amazing, because I counted how many drinks I had and I hit 22 between 5pm and 3am. 22 for my 22nd.

Wow. Maybe I should be proud? Or not.

Here is the sole photo I have from that night. It is blurry. Kind of fitting. (OMG, I'm totally drinking peach schnapps.)

There are times I get nostalgic for that crazy time in my life. Cause I've for the most part lived a pretty down to earth, responsible existence.

But for a year (or two) I was a bit of a (FUN) trainwreck. I made it through, unscathed.

That hot mess? I miss her. Carefree, LOUD, probably obnoxious as hell.

But would I go back to that? Um, no. Not in a million years.

This morning, my husband brought my son in to me to snuggle at 7am. He got right under the covers, rolled over and hugged me and said 'I wuv you mommy'.

I'm pretty sure that no birthday party could EVER top that.

Memoriam

2010-05-16T20:43:00.000-07:00

This last week - no make that two weeks - have been really rough.

You may or may not know my mother in law passed away early Wednesday morning. The lead up to her passing was...God...I don't even know how to describe it. Overwhelming. Scary. Unbearably sad.

And now that's she's gone, there is a sense of relief, not because she's not with us, but because she was suffering so horribly. I had never witnessed someone dying from cancer. And it is beyond awful.

But wedged in between the sorrow, there were little glimpses of the woman we love, gifts to us, things we can look back on and smile.

Grief comes in waves. I will forget for a moment that she's gone. Then it hits again.

My mother in law loved to ride on the back of her husband's Harley and today, when I was out on my run, a pack of Harley's roared by me. I stopped, there on the side of the road, sobbing. And then, for the rest of my run, I just talked to her in my head.

Thanking her. Asking her for forgiveness for any way I'd hurt her. Telling her funny things G had said and done in the last few days. Promising her that I would take care of her family.

And I think she could hear me.

Spam Belongs in a Can, Not in My Comments.

2010-05-07T08:20:00.001-07:00

I need some help, users of Blogger!

I get the WORST spam in my comments. I won't even tell you what it is because I swear when I talk about it, more of them come and spam me - I will just say that it has to do with young women of Asian descent scantily (or not) clad. It is driving me absolutely insane.

For a long time, I blogged here and didn't turn on the word verification in the comments because, let's face it, I don't get a ton of comments and word verification is a further deterrent.

But, after dealing with all the garbage I've been finding in my comments, I figured anyone who is truly interested in commenting would put up with the hassle.

And that the spammers would not. WRONG.

No, for some reason, the damn spammers are not only patient with word verification, they are verified blogger users.

So, if anyone out there who reads this has any advice for getting rid of the creepy commenters, please say so in the comments.

I'm begging you!

We Ran. We Ate. We Drank. We Cut Hair. (Texas, Part II)

2010-05-03T11:46:00.001-07:00

I fell behind in my Texas posts, but I'm BACK. On to day two:

After falling asleep listening to the craziest thunderstorm I've ever witnessed (and listening to Christy and Lisa yelling 'STRIKE' in the next room when thunder struck), I awoke to a bright and beautiful, albeit, VERYEFFINGEARLY Saturday morning. By early I mean 6:15 Texas time and 4:15 Washington time. Yes, that's A.M. There was coffee. So I didn't complain (I don't think. I can't be held responsible for any early morning whining that may have escaped). And then? We ran. Lots of miles. I did 9. NINE. What? And it didn't hurt, for the first time in forever.

I ate a PowerBar Shot. It was seriously the grossest thing I have ever ingested. I'm not even kidding. It tasted so horrendous it burned. But it worked. The last two miles went so fast.

Big ups to Amanda, the best pit crew ever. She drove up and down and up and down the road, making sure we were hydrated and all that good stuff. Plus, she took some amazing photos.

Like this one.

Christy, Amanda, Lisa, Thea, Me, Kirsten, Elaine

After our run, we all went and hunkered down in the Frio River. Best post run icing, ever. Miss Molly the dog came with us and spent some quality time fishing for the minnows that were nipping at our legs.

Next? A haircut. I think all of us were freaking out a little bit about cutting Kirsten's hair...except Kirsten! That hooker couldn't wait to be freed of her flowing locks! We measured the her hair to make sure it was long enough to donate, then Christy went to work with, um, KITCHEN SHEARS? Yeah. It was pretty awesome. Jonathan Antin is crapping his pants right now.

See? Don't eff with Christy and her kitchen shears. For reals, yo. She'll cut a hooker(s hair).

All done! Kirsten is one brave lady. And now? I can't even picture her with long hair...short just suits her perfectly.

The night continued...how many hookers does it take to open a bottle of wine?

And there was wine. And margaritas. And shots. And lots of amazing food.

We had a favorite things swag bag - each of us brought a little something to share with the group.
So much fun - and a great way to get to know each other even better!

It gets surprisingly cold at night in Texas. We gathered round the campfire, had s'mores and laughed. A lot.

You know when you wake up in the morning with a sore throat from gabbing so much you've had a good night!

Spring, Ya'll

2010-04-29T08:30:00.000-07:00

Spring...courtesy of Leakey, Texas.

And Fredericksburg, Texas!

Happy Spring, ya'll! It's freezing up here in Washington, but gall darn is it beeyootiful down in the Texas hill country!

For more Spring, mosey on over to You Capture at Beth's place.

No Axe Murderers Here. (Texas, Day One)

2010-04-28T17:26:00.000-07:00

If you'd have told me a few years ago that I'd meet a bunch of people online and eventually travel halfway across the country, by myself, to meet them all? I would have laughed in your face. Heartily.

Especially because I'd made a hell of a lot of fun of my poor brother in law when he was in the wedding of a couple he'd met online playing World of Warcraft (okay, that is still pretty high-larious).

So Friday morning, when my husband dropped me off at the airport, his concern was almost palpable. But, I assured him, I have pretty good intuition. And every bone in my body told me that I needed to go. To Texas. To B.F.E. Texas. Where there was no cell phone reception. I told him that if they were all axe murderers, it was like the most elaborate axe murdering plot in all the history of axe murderers and I had to go because it was that good. He didn't think that was so funny.

I sat in the airport, nervous, but so excited - giddy, even. My flight was delayed. And the asshole who checks your boarding pass made me check my carry on. It wasn't too big, there were just a bunch of other assholes who took their TOO BIG carry ons onto the plane and I think he thought I wouldn't put up a fight. I barely avoided a Meet the Parents situation (bomb bomb bomb bombbomb bomb bomb bomb). But after six hours at an airport or on a plane, I was there.

Lisa met me at the Austin airport. We loaded my luggage into the 'minivan that can' and off we went to San Antonio, chatting the whole way like we've known each other forever. And we met these hookers for dinner.

Clockwise from left: Christy, Lisa, Amanda, Me, Tiffany, Kirsten, Thea (OMG, I just realized Elaine is not in the photo...she must have taken it.)

I'm pretty sure I had the best fajitas I have ever had in my entire life. Did you know that they put melted garlic butter on their tortillas in Texas? True story. Manna from Heaven.

And there was a mariachi band. Unfortunately they were only playing sad mariachi music. It was kind of pissing me off.

We rolled ourselves out of the restaurant and took off on the two hour trek to Christy's in the hill country. Leakey, to be exact. After following the wrong black Tahoe for a bit, we were finally headed in the right direction.

And, I witnessed the most amazing thunder and lightening storm I've ever seen. Crazy. CRAZY. Kudos to Lisa and the minivan that can for delivering us safely to the banks for the Frio River.

Our long anticipated Hooker Retreat 2010 weekend had officially begun...

Yippee Kay Aye!

2010-04-27T15:44:00.000-07:00

Okay, I'm tired, and my son is really wanting my attention.

And I missed him SO MUCH, so I love that he wants to cuddle. LOVE.

But, quickly, here are a few quick takes from my trip to Texas. And trust me, there are lots of stories to be told and photos to show... be patient. They will come. Trust.

For now:

My first glimpse of Texas.

I got to stay here! I don't think it gets more beautiful, for reals.

There was a haircut. With kitchen shears.

And I think I may die if I do not obtain one of these for my living room.

I'm not kidding. I'm on eBay right now.

Daddies + Sidewalk Chalk =

2010-04-17T13:51:00.001-07:00

Cute, possibly innappropriate chalk body outlines on patio.

It was a massacre. Person, dog (I think) and cat.

At least I intervened before they became, ahem, anatomically correct...

Dear Nick Junior nee Noggin

2010-04-09T16:20:00.000-07:00

Does anybody out there watch Jack's Big Music Show? Anybody? Bueller? Bueller? *crickets*

Well, my son is OBSESSED with Jack, his dog, Mel and his 'super swell friend', Mary. Or, as he says, JACKMELMARYANDMEL! Most of his words and phrases seem to stem from this lovely little show on Nick Jr. (formerly Noggin). We only let him watch it once, maybe twice a day (on THOSE days). But there are only about 25 episodes total, so he's seen them all multiple times.

The show was canceled a few years back - I seriously don't know why they don't bring it back. In my opinion, it's probably one of the most innovative and educational shows (as far as music goes) out there for toddlers. Bonus - it's parent friendly. I honestly don't mind it at all. And that's saying a lot.

Jack's Big Music Show is basically a puppet show, focused on music (duh) - with a couple of kid friendly music videos thrown in, and sometimes a guest. Jon Stewart did an episode. And Lisa Loeb has been on it too (oh 1995, how I miss thee!).

Yeah, it's cool. I'll admit it. I kind of love it.

Except for these musical guests. I find them, well, disturbing.

I did a little research and found out this group is called The Trachtenburg Family Slide Show Players (and yes, they are a family - dad, mom and daughter) and they're from Seattle ~~OF COURSE THEY ARE~~ . While they have an interesting thing going - the slides they show are randoms they pick up at garage and estate sales and flea markets - I TOTALLY CANNOT GET OVER THAT GUY'S MUSTACHE. There I said it. I'm shallow. Get over it.

ANYhow.

What I really want to know is why Jack's Big Music Show was canceled? Can someone please get their shiz together and bring it back?

Cause if my alternatives are The Upside Down Show and Wow Wow Wubzy and Lazytown (okay, maybe Sportacus is kind of hot if you can get past the pencil thin mustache...yes, I have mustache issues) I might need to pop someone in the nose.

Hoarders: Accessory Edition

2010-04-07T16:27:00.000-07:00

It started about a month ago. I was up visiting a friend in Bellingham (My hometown - or the largest town nearby to where I grew up. Also known as the city of subdued excitement. I'm not kidding) and after we got our hairs did, we had a nice little lunch and ended up doing some shopping.

We were in this adorable, trendy little shop and I was feeling terribly old. And out of style. I decided then and there I needed to update myself somehow. And that somehow was accessorizing.

Truth be told, I suck at accessorizing. I have my ears pierced, twice, yet I never wear earrings. I had a brief tryst with necklaces that came to an abrupt halt when I realized that I didn't want to be strangled by my toddler while trying to be fashionable. I will not wear watches or bracelets because they make my wrists look weird...in particular, they bring attention to my hairy arms (I am convinced they are so hairy because I tried to shave them once when I was 7).

So basically the only accessory I wear regularly is my wedding ring.

For some reason, that afternoon, a little voice in my head said YOU MUST START WEARING SCARVES.

And so it began. Introducing my first scarf.

Hi, I'm a dork. That is all.

Since then, I've kind of lost the plot. Old Navy has reasonable, super cute scarves and I can't seem to control myself. Like, at all.

Last count I was at twelve.

Intervention, please?

New Employee

2010-03-29T14:03:00.000-07:00

Costco is always an adventure. For me at least.

Rule 1 of Shopping with Toddler Club - Do not talk about shopping with toddler club.
Rule 2 of Shopping with Toddler Club - Come well equipped. I'm talking a Mary-freaking-Poppins like bag full of ~~bribes~~ distractions.
Rule 3 of Shopping with Toddler Club - Be prepared to evacuate. Full shopping carts may be left behind.
Rule 4 of Shopping with Toddler Club - If you still have any, be prepared to dismiss all preconceived notions of pride and dignity. There is no dignity when your toddler is having a knock down, drag out tantrum or screaming fit. Which brings me to today...

We're at the checkout line. G-Rex is in the cart, surrounded by two new books, his blankie and his snack trap full of crackers. I don't travel lightly when it comes to child entertainment in public - see Rule 2.

He had done amazingly well throughout the excursion. I was hopeful, but like most cases where your children are unusally quiet, there's usually a storm a-brewing.

The latest trick in his arsenal is screaming like a banshee when strangers talk to him. And by stranger, I mean anyone he hasn't seen in 24 hours.

So, the sweet checker lady says 'Oh look, a Thomas book? Do you like Thomas?'

'AIEEEEEEeeeeeeEEEEEEE'.

'George, we've talked about screaming. We don't scream. It's not nice.' I'm leaning across the checking area, trying to get his attention. Not working.

'AIeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEE! Mommeeeeeeee! AieeeeeeeEEEEEEE!'

I'm turning about 12 shades of red, trying to catch his attention. Not working. Not working.

About two rows down, I hear this very thick Eastern European accent. 'YES! Keep screaming! Mommy loves it.'

G-Rex stops mid-screech and wheels around.

'Yes, yes. Good job. Keep screaming.'

Silence.

The man, I'm guessing in his late-50's, gave me a wink and said 'Reverse psychology.'

And for the rest of checkout and all the way to the car, by child sat in stunned silence.

Now I want to know where I can find this guy and hire him. For reals. I have never had someone silence my child so swiftly and effectively. He is the Screaming Toddler Whisperer.

Rule 5 of Shopping with Toddler Club: Find a gruff sounding Eastern European man who will mess with your child's head. Hire him.

Never a Dull Moment

2010-03-24T22:26:00.000-07:00

I suppose I get my fill of touching moments around here, but for the most part, I pick up my camera and weird stuff happens.

Like my toddler having a total freak out over 'sticky' chocolate ice cream. He was screaming 'BATH! BATH!'.

Or catching him mid-yawn. But he looks totally angry. Snarling. Probably because I made him get his hair cut and it kind of looks like Lloyd Christmas (Google it, kids).

And finally, my nut job cat, Boris, who at one point had to be on kitty Prozac (yes, they make it). He has decided the bathroom sink is a great place to sleep.

Till I turn the water on.

And you know I did.

For more moments, click on over to I Should Be Folding Laundry. Don't forget to wish Beth luck - she's having a baby in a few days!

Tales from the Hometown

2010-03-22T15:28:00.000-07:00

I feel like I haven't been here forever. I have opened up my Blogger account multiple times, stared at the computer, and then closed down wistfully.

Not that I haven't been busy. I have. Mostly mundane, everyday stuff. But also, I had some fun. Like this weekend, for instance.

My brother, his girlfriend (H) and her son are visiting. This weekend, we all headed up to the parents house - some highlights:

* Friday night I accompanied my bro and H to dinner with his friends. At Olive Garden (A side note? I don't think I've ever consumed that much salt in one sitting, ever). Dinner conversation included stories of people pooping themselves. Funny. Even funnier? All recent stories and all said ~~boys~~ men are 28. But I laughed till I cried. I think the margarita helped.

* Later that night I was lectured by one of the guys about how unfair it is that hot chicks are immediately judged as bitches by normal women - like me. He was so fired up about it, I swear he had TEARS in his eyes. Ouch. I'll take it with a grain of salt as he arrived on the back of a SCOOTER, not even a motorcycle, all Dumb & Dumber style.

* Saturday morning I went for a run - my weekly long run for Team in Training. My parents live out in the country - I was SO looking forward to fresh air. I didn't take into account that THEY LIVE IN THE COUNTRY, so I instead enjoyed the stench of freshly sprayed manure. Oh shit, indeed.

* Before said run, I nearly had a nervous breakdown because my GPS watch battery was dead (it turned on in my bag and drained), and I had no charger. I didn't realize I was so dependent on that thing, but I was pretty much rendered helpless. How can I run if I don't have a timer, know my distance, and my speed? Breathe. Breathe. Then I remembered my brother had his iPhone, and there was, thank goodness, an APP FOR THAT. I wrestled the phone out of his hands and took off.

* I ran 6.5 miles. I completely misjudged my distance and by the time I hit the 6 mile marker I was AT LEAST two miles from home. I considered cutting through a field and the woods, but then I remembered where I was, that people have guns, and that I'd probably either sprain my ankle in the field or run into barbed wire or get attacked by a rabid raccoon in the woods. So I called for a bailout. Again, good thing I stole my brother's phone.

* H needed to return some stuff to Old Navy. Upon walking into the oh-so-flattering fluorescent light of the local mall, my darling little bro says ' WHOA! When did you get so gray?' I bought two new scarves and some cardis to make myself feel better. It worked.

* We got pedicures. When I say we, I'm including my brother. I think he *might* have enjoyed it the most considering he nearly fell asleep during the foot/leg massage. P.S. My pedicure is purple for Team in Training (GO TEAM! Even my toenails are on board!).

* Later, on Saturday night, I took H to my girlfriend Rachel's for Rachel's birthday party, an all ladies affair which she entitled 'The Real Housewives of Whatcom County". There was lots of booze, lots of food, and the best part? A Tarot card reader. Oh yes. She was amazing - doesn't do scary readings - tends to make whatever you draw, even death, a potentially positive thing (such as, death can mean you will have your first baby, which is 'death' to your childless self). I won't go too much into it, but my birth and year cards are Emperor/Emperor, which basically means I am bossy and in charge. And I am a 'leader'. And my card for the year is the Hermit, which could mean this should be an introspective year for me. I should write a lot. INTERESTING.

* At the party, I got to catch up with so many friends, some of whom I haven't seen in almost 10 years. Loved it.

* When I told my mom we did Tarot her eyes got really big and I assured her that I wasn't worshipping the Devil or even worse, considering becoming Mormon. (Bless her, she is so cute).

That's what I've been up to, at least some of it...still trying to fit in all my running and desperately clinging onto my sanity (it's a slippery little sucker).

Team Shrinking Jeans Bash!

2010-03-15T08:00:00.000-07:00

For the next 2 weeks over at the Sisterhood, we are having a Team Shrinking Jeans Bash! What is this Bash I speak of, you might be asking? It's a HUGE party with door prizes and an awesome Grand Prize of $400 cash! Yes, cash!

What is Team Shrinking Jeans anyway? Well, a group of 16 Sisters and one Brother are training to run the San Diego Rock N Roll 1/2 Marathon through the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's (LLS) Team in Training Program (TNT). Through TNT, Team Shrinking Jeans will be training for the race AND raising $48,900 for LLS. Isn't that amazing?

You can read more about our amazing team here, and find out why each of us is doing this here.

How can you join the Bash? Simple! Donate to Team Shrinking Jeans through our secure online team fundraising page. For every $5 you donate, you'll be entered to win one of over 30 fabulous door prizes. If you donate $25, not only will you get 5 chances to win door prizes, but you'll also be entered to win the granddaddy of all prizes: CASH!

Did you know?

Every 4 minutes one person is diagnosed with a blood cancer.

An estimated 139,860 people in the United States will be diagnosed with leukemia, lymphoma or myeloma in 2009. New cases of leukemia, Hodgkin and non-Hodgkin lymphoma and myeloma account for 9.5 percent of the 1,479,350 new cancer cases diagnosed in the United States this year*.

Overall incidence rates per 100,000 population for leukemia, lymphoma and myeloma are almost identical for data reported in 2008 and 2009 [(leukemia 12.2, 2009 vs.12.3, 2008); (NHL, 19.5, each year); (Hodgkin lymphoma, 2.8, each year); (myeloma, 5.6, each year)].

Leukemia, lymphoma and myeloma will cause the deaths of an estimated 53,240 people in the United States this year. These blood cancers will account for nearly 9.5 percent of the deaths from cancer in 2009 based on the 562,340 total cancer-related deaths.

Every ten minutes, someone dies from a blood cancer. This statistic represents nearly 146 people each day, or more than six people every hour. Leukemia causes more deaths than any other cancer among children and young adults under the age of 20. In general, the likelihood of dying from most types of leukemia, lymphoma or myeloma decreased from 1996 to 2005 (the most recent data available).

*Facts and statistics from Leukemia, Lymphoma, Myeloma Facts 2009-2010, June 2009.

Those are some pretty eye-opening statistics, huh?

So head on over and join in the Bash! Check out the fabulous prizes, click on over and donate, and be sure to check in everyday for Happy Hour!

Mix Tape (Ok, CD)

2010-03-10T16:18:00.000-08:00

Last weekend, I met up for lunch with my girlfriend Rachel. Sans kids. It was so nice - refreshing. We don't get to see each other much so when we do, I savor it. We've been close friends since we were both duped into playing the baritone horn in junior high band. Seriously, we must have both been pretty stupid. Because I really don't know how you get convinced that playing a miniature tuba is cool.

At the end of lunch, she pulled a mix cd out of her purse - that our other friend, Megan, had made me for Christmas. Megan lives in San Diego, and I wasn't able to meet up with her when she was up over the holidays. I instantly knew I would love it - she has great taste in music, and always has introduced me to new stuff. Okay, new to me.

I was listening to the compilation on the way home, and these lyrics jumped out at me:

Don't push so hard against the world.
You can't do it all alone
and if you could, would you really want to?
Even though you're a big strong girl,
come on, come on, lay it down,
the best made plans,
come on, come on, lay it down,
are your open hands.

[From Deb Talan's Big Strong Girl]

I don't get all sappy about music very often, but damn. Megan knows me really well. So well, in fact, that she knew that three months from when she made that cd, I'd need to hear that song. That exact song.

I am really bad at taking on too much. Internalizing too much. Feeling overwhelmed. Taking things personally. Getting wrapped up into impossible situations that I can't, no matter how hard I try, fix.

You know when a song makes you cry, well, maybe something. somebody, is trying to tell you something.

And you'd best listen.

I Hope

2010-03-04T10:04:00.000-08:00

I hope, today, I can make it through my training run, swift and strong.

I hope the sky is blue and the sun shines on my face.

I hope my running partner will allow me to finish my training without a tantrum (I think I'll bring some bribery cookies).

I hope I can make it up this one last hill.

(I did it. A sweaty, happy mess.)

I hope that Team Shrinking Jeans raises colossal, record breaking amounts of money for The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. The LLS brings so much hope to so many that feel hopeless.

I hope that my hope blossoms and grows into something bigger and more wonderful than I ever imagined.

For more hope, head on over to I Should Be Folding Laundry.

For more information on The LLS, Team Shrinking Jeans and how you can help give hope, click on over to our Team Page.

Does This Make Me a Cougar?

2010-03-02T16:43:00.000-08:00

I'm not even sure I want to admit this in writing, but the way I see it, maybe my massive embarrassment/confusion will help somebody else. Somebody else who is struggling.

So, after totally berating a friend of mine (I do have to add this is a MALE friend) about six months back for watching and enjoying 17 Again, I found myself sitting on the couch this last Sunday, flipping through HBO and there it was. My husband was deeply entrenched in World of Warcraft, so I was like, hey, why not? I never get to watch chick flicks (okay, I never get to watch anything besides Sci Fi or Action - blurgh).

I settled in and after a while, I realized I was entranced. And not with the fine filmmaking (even though admittedly, it was pretty funny).

No, I was entranced with the FINE boy.

Are you kidding me? Is he real? I realize I am about five years behind here, but I never had the misfortune to watch any of that High School Musical tomfoolery, so this is my first Efron experience.

It kind of hurts my eyes to look at him, he is so perfect. I can even get past his painfully tousled hair. And the fact that I'm pretty sure he's wearing makeup.

He's that strange kind of good looking where he's almost TOO pretty. Like Rob Lowe. In the 80's.

I mean, really, Rob Lowe? Your beauty is searing my retinas.

And now that I think about it, he bears a striking resemblance to ~~Jordan Catalano~~ Jared Leto. Oh my goodness, how I swooned while I watched My So Called Life. I really GOT how Angela kept going after him, no matter how douchey he was. I mean, HELLO?

Okay, so clearly, I have a type. Which is prettier than me. Dark hair, brooding eyes. I was told, back in the day, my husband strongly resembled Freddie Prize, Jr. By my mother.

How does my mom know who Freddie Prinze, Jr. is? That is something to ponder. Or maybe not.

The Skinny

2010-02-28T16:52:00.000-08:00

From time to time, I'm pretty sure I made some comments about skinny jeans and how I'd never wear them. You see, I try to live by this motto:

If it's already been in style once in your lifetime, you're too old to wear it again.

So you'd probably be surprised that yesterday I got a package in the mail from J Crew with a pair of gray matchstick cords. And they fit. No spillage over the top. This may be some kind of miracle.

I wore them in public today. With motorcycle boots. And my big sunglasses. That's how I roll. If I'm wearing something that I'm unsure of, I rock the glasses. To hide the fear in my eyes.

Also: I purchased skinny jeans about a month ago, and they've been seeing regular rotation in my wardrobe. Unbelievably, they are comfortable. And, most of the time, skinny jeans are NOT low rise. Which I'm SO over. Nobody needs to see my crack when I bend over - which is all the time, wrangling the toddler.

To wear said skinny pants/jeans, there are a few rules, for me at least:

1) Under no circumstances shall scrunched down socks or puffy Reebok Freestyles enter the equation.

No.

(True story, my cheer leading coach in high school had a pair of these babies to match every outfit. However, she was totally allowed because she was in a Paula Abdul music video - I think. And she taught us some sweet 80's moves. I can totally kick ball change like Pat Benetar in Love is a Battlefield.)

2) The correct size must be purchased. Trying to squeeze into too skinny skinny jeans is absolutely not a good idea. Unless you want your uterus in a vice.

3) I always wear my skinny bottoms with long tops. At least past the hips. On that note, if anybody ever catches me in a half shirt, have me committed because I've gone insane.

I still have not succumbed to acid wash. And I saw a photo of HAREM PANTS the other day and yeah, I can pretty much guarantee I'm not going there. I'm just not that cool. Um, I was NEVER that cool.

And they better not bring back the Hypercolor. Because I'm a heavy sweater and nothing is more uncool than drawing attention to the fact that you are sweating like a hooker in church.

The Shape of Things

2010-02-25T00:44:00.001-08:00

One of the best things about being told to go out, get behind a camera and LOOK for shapes? All the sharp points and curves and slopes you've walked by a million times before and never noticed come into brilliant focus.

The square benches at the park.

The gentle triangular curve of the rings.

The sloping, steep bowl at the skate park down the street.

The leaf imprint in the sidewalk that you've walked over again and again but never saw. Till today
.
For more shapes, head on over to I Should Be Folding Laundry.

A Few Notes on Facebook

2010-02-24T12:21:00.000-08:00

My name is Heather and I'm a Facebook addict.

But over the last few years of using it, certain things have gotten under my skin. Here are a few:

* Do not post creepy, suggestive things as your status to your spouse and then go back and forth with naughty banter. That's what text messaging is for. I don't need to know how you 'can't wait for the hot tub this weekend, wink wink' or anything of the sort. I'm not kidding. You just made me throw up in my mouth.

* While I'm impressed that you pressed a button and joined a group, or cut and pasted and reposted a status about how you hate/support [fill in the blank], that doesn't mean you've actually DONE anything. Once and a while, fine, and hooray for showing support for X cause. But once in a while, it's good to put your money (or time) where your status is and actually do something. And yes, I'm completely targeting this at one person. And I'm pretty sure she doesn't read this. Whoops if she does.

* Those applications who are supposed to tell you who is looking at your profile? Yeah, pretty sure they don't work. And if they do, it's probably not something you want to know. That hot guy from college? He's not looking. The guy who wrote you lame poems that were totally copied lyrics from The Cure? More likely.

*Doppleganger week? Wishful thinking for most. I did have a friend who was dead on (ANDREA. Good call on Fairuza Balk!). I'm guilty too. I look like Elisabeth Shue...in an alternate universe.

* Please post at least ONE photo of yourself somewhere in your profile. Your shots of your kids are precious, and I really love that one of your dog dressed up like Yoda, but I like to see a face - YOUR face ~~especially because I'm not sure I know you~~.

* There is this one guy who friended me over a year ago. For the life of me, I can't remember him. I have chatted with other friends who have accepted his friend request too, and they can't place him either. No photos, no identifying information. Never updates status. Why do you have a Facebook account if all you do with it is join groups/take quizzes? I'm kind of creeped out by the fact that you joined the 'I Love Morning Sex' group. That's nice. Thanks for sharing. Plus, there is no photo of you. Are you real?

* For the love of God, before you repost things about Facebook being a pay site, or that someone by the name of 'X' is really a pedophile trying to get pictures of your kids - check Snopes.com. Great site, and can really save you from looking like a jackass. Has saved MY ass many a time.

* If someone you know is pregnant (or has other personal news) - LET THEM BE THE ONE TO LET THE CAT OUT OF THE BAG. Maybe they want to wait till they're out of the first trimester. Maybe they haven't told other people in their life that will be hurt they didn't hear it directly from the source.

* Status updates about poop, pee or any other bodily function are always hilarious.

What drives you bonkers about Facebook behavior?

Let's Call A Spade a Spade

2010-02-19T13:07:00.000-08:00

Generally speaking, I don't get too much into current events on this blog.

But really, I just have to say something after that train wreck press conference Tiger
~~douchebag~~ Woods held this morning. I mean, awful. I had to turn the channel about half way through.

What I need to say is this: PLEASE STOP ATTRIBUTING YOUR BEHAVIOR TO SEXUAL ADDICTION! What ever happened to accountability? Do you mean to tell me your penis is magnetically attracted to the same type of woman, over and over and over again? If you were a little more, say, diverse with your 'indiscretions', I'd be a little more inclined to believe you. But continuously choosing women with implants, lucite heels and drawn on eyebrows leads me to believe you have a distinct type ~~porn stars~~ - I don't think sex addicts have a 'type'. I think they'll pretty much nail anybody with a pulse.

Come on, now.

You are a man whore. You were caught. Back when I was in college, we had a name for you: an asshole.

End of story.

Your poor wife is standing by while you pretty much place blame on something other than yourself.

Shame shame shame.

A Kiss is Not Just a Kiss

2010-02-18T08:07:00.000-08:00

I don't remember a lot from kindergarten. I vaguely remember a few outfits I liked to wear (a Little House on the Prairie pinafore comes to mind) and the way we couldn't have our coats in the coat closet because someone always had head lice.

Itch. Itch.

And a day that caused me major anxiety. The day Mrs. Campbell announced during circle time she was going to give each of us a kiss.

What?

I remained composed (or as composed as a 5 year old can be) and waited. Was she going to make us line up for the kiss? Was she going to kiss us on the lips or the cheek? Time dragged by - even though it was probably only a minute - it felt like forever. I was one freaked out little kid.

Finally, Mrs. Campbell reached under her chair and pulled out a brown paper bag.

And proceeded to give each of us a kiss.

That kiss was a kiss I was okay with.

For more kisses, head on over to I Should Be Folding Laundry. Today, Beth's fabulous link up turns one! Happy Bloggy Birthday, Beth!

I Can't Stop

2010-02-17T16:32:00.000-08:00

For Valentine's Day, my very sweet husband brought me flowers. Which is a very big deal, because:

a) My husband is one of those guys who doesn't 'do' Valentines, because it is a commercial, Hallmark holiday (likely story)...

and

b) Being in the nursery business, he thinks cut flowers are a waste.

But darn it anyway - he done got me flowers!

Okay, not real flowers. They ARE fake, but they are apparently a very huge seller. And, they light up.

Here they are in the light...

And the dark...

(P.S. I'm REALLY hating my new camera, so excuse the out of focus-ness. I'm working on it).

So, two years in a row, he has come through on Valentines, being all super sweet and thoughtful.

What he didn't bargain for, I'm pretty sure, is the crazy ass redecorating bug I caught as a result of his gift.

For some reason, the colors of the flowers (red with brown stems), really spoke to me. As did the Pottery Barn catalog.

I love our new bedding SO MUCH. Of course, my bedroom looks nothing like the catalog, but it sure beats the tired old sage toile bedding we had. Which was nice, but I was freaking tired of looking at it.

Now, I'm kind of obsessing over painting. I'm thinking chair rail. Or an accent wall. I brought home a bunch of paint samples. The red and the chocolate brown were not well received. I can't bring myself to do the gold...or maybe I can...

Today, the new decor received the toddler seal of approval. He climbed right up on the bed, grabbed a book, got under the covers and pulled them up to his armpits.

He's reading The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo. Such a literature fiend.

But most importantly, the bedding passed the jump test.

This was imperative.

So, that's the story of how a thoughtful little gift snowballed into a full on redecorating frenzy.

Yeah, I'm not done. I'm eying G-Rex's room and the kitchen. And the bathroom...

Shrinking Jeans Olympics

2010-02-12T08:36:00.001-08:00

Today marks the start of the most revered, gut wrenching sports event in the world. Yes, the Olympics...THE SHRINKING JEANS OLYMPICS.

We just wrapped up our Rethink Your Shrink challenge (bye bye five pounds and HELLO to normal BMI!) and during the next two week, we will test our athletic prowess (and yes, we're totally doing Wii Fit Hula Hoop) in many feats of strength and endurance.

This mini challenge is open to everybody! If you've never joined us for a challenge, this is the perfect time to hop on board. You can participate in all events, or just a few. You are driving your own bus.

So, head on over to The 'hood (You haven't joined? Dude. It's free. DO IT.) and sign up for some events - and for a broader outline of how this mini challenge works, read this.

Today, I am participating in both the Three Mile Run and the Wii Fit Hula Hoop. So, I need to get going! I hope you take the chance to go check out this super fun challenge...and join in!

Here I Am

2010-02-11T10:39:00.000-08:00

One year ago today, I was laid off.

I won't lie and say I knew it was coming, because I didn't. I knew it was a possibility, but I also knew that my job was between me and another person - and logically, I was the better choice to stay. I was better at the job. I had a better attitude. Period.

She also knew I was the right person to stay. After I covered her to go on a month long vacation (which meant I couldn't use my vacation days - so they were forfeited upon my termination. NICE.), she spent the last month before I was laid off looking for jobs. While she was at work. While I covered everything else. While I trained someone new that was brought in from another region so they could go back and do their job effectively. I listened to her whine every day about the lay offs. I stayed positive and did my job. It wasn't just a job to me, either, by the way. I truly enjoyed it - I felt like I had actually found a career where I could grow.

How naive. Seriously.

I should have kept my job, but that's not the way things worked out. I have since found out there was nothing I could do to keep my job.

Certain things I didn't want to believe about the company I had (HAD) so much respect for turned out to be true.

For a long time, I was really angry. REALLY ANGRY. Okay, I was sad first. Then I felt rejected. Then angry.

I slowly started to feel normal and actually relish being a stay at home mom. I won't lie and say I didn't (don't)miss my income. Being supported by someone else takes some getting used to. As does going days without real adult conversation. Though Thomas the Train and Diego and saying 'no' ten thousand times a day is lovely, the urge to talk about something other than kid stuff is still there.
Which led me to make several new friends - here - of all places. If you can't get out and meet people, I say bring them to you - via the internets.

Summer was amazing. It was the first summer since I was a kid that I remember playing outside every sunny day. Going to the beach. Gardening.

Then, at the end of summer, life happened, in a bad way, in a cancer way, and everything that had made me feel so hopeless and rejected all of the sudden seemed minuscule.

How I embrace my life and what I have been given has greatly changed. Priorities have shifted.

Things I thought I understood,ideals I'd embraced, definitions of normal - all those things have been obliterated. Some in a good way, some in ways that are so ugly and disturbing that getting my head round them has been difficult.

But. Here I am. One year later. February 11, 2009, I sobbed hysterically. Asked myself why. Sat in the dark and worried.

Today? I don't even think I'd cry about losing that job. There has been a tremendous shift, I have been forced to be an adult - REALLY be an adult. Not just a girl posing as one.

Mamarazzi

2010-02-04T08:25:00.001-08:00

Last night we had a little photo shoot at bath time.

Getting smiles out of this kid (at least on demand) is a nearly impossible feat.

We can do 'surprised'.

He'll give me profile (work it).

He'll give me somber (and the signature 'I will not make eye contact' shot).

Oh! Almost a smile. Not quite.

Mom...really? I'm trying to take a bath here. I have serious water pouring issues to attend to. And squirty toys. Lay off.

Okay, fine. Here you go. Happy?

And there you have it. At the age of two, he has mastered the completely fake, almost painful photo smile.

No matter what he's doing, he's my favorite face to capture.

For more faces, jump on over to I Should Be Folding Laundry.

Like, Totally

2010-02-02T15:30:00.001-08:00

We're working on his 80's vocabulary.

He already knows AWESOME! And GRODY!

Next up? I'm thinking gnarly...

Ready. Set. GO!

2010-01-31T11:24:00.000-08:00

Today, January 31, officially kicks off my training with Team Shrinking Jeans and Team in Training for the San Diego Rock & Roll Half Marathon.

OMGthisisreallyhappening!?

Am I scared? Uh, yeah. But not as much as I thought I'd be. Our coach, Coach Joe, is so awesome. In fact, the whole Team in Training support team is - um - AWESOME. We have guidance through everything: the training, the fund raising.

With that much backup, it's hard NOT to feel confident.

Today, I visited the site of my honored hero, Shelby.

I am running this race in her honor. She has an amazing story - diagnosed with Acute Lymphatic Leukemia at four, three years of chemo and considered cured in 2007. Today, she is a beautiful, vibrant fourteen year old. Unfortunately, she does suffer from lingering effects of her treatment - but through it all, she maintains a positive outlook.

Perspective, people. If Shelby can beat ALL, and remain positive through her day to day struggles, I can train hard, finish the race and raise a ton of money for people like Shelby - for research, to aid in their treatment, to make THEIR lives better.

So.

You know it's coming. And I'm going to become more and more obnoxious as the fund raising deadline approaches.

Do you have a few bucks to spare? I know money is tight right now, but it's TAX DEDUCTIBLE.

You need more? Here are some reasons you should consider giving to LLS:

An estimated 912,938 people in the United States are living with, or are in remission from, leukemia, Hodgkin lymphoma, non-Hodgkin lymphoma or myeloma.
Every four minutes, someone new is diagnosed with blood cancer.
Every 10 minutes, someone dies.
Leukemia causes more deaths than any other cancer among children under the age of 20.
Lymphomas are the most common blood cancers and incidence increases with age.
The survival rate for myeloma is only 37.1 percent.

What does the LLS do with the funds raised? Glad you asked - here's a snippet from the Team in Training website:

The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (LLS) is the world's largest voluntary health organization dedicated to funding blood cancer research and providing education and patient services. We have invested more than $680 million in research since 1949 - over $69 million in 2009 - specifically targeting leukemia, lymphoma and myeloma. Last year alone, LLS made 4.9 million contacts with patients, caregivers and healthcare professionals.

Wow. How humbling and inspiring to be part of this effort!

And. And and and....

I'm going to sweeten the deal. Every donation between today and the end of February (that's the 28th) will be entered into a drawing for either a $25 dollar gift card to Amazon, or an amazing coffee gift pack of my favorite Seattle coffees! Winner gets to choose!

How to donate?

Make a secure credit card donation here, on my Team In Training fund raising page.

Send me a check made out to the Leukemia and Lymphoma society - email me at heather@shrinkingjeans for snail mail info.

Lastly, if you own a business - The Sisterhood of the Shrinking Jeans is offering amazing advertising opportunities - and all proceeds go directly to LLS. Please email me if you'd like a copy of our media kit.

Whew! Thanks for reading. That is all...for now.

Faking It

2010-01-29T02:00:00.000-08:00

It's been a while since I've done an angsty post. So brace.

I have a question. It's not rhetorical - you can definitely give me advice.

My question is: if someone tells you news that is so incredibly beyond belief screwed up - but to them it's 'happy' news - how do you react?

Do you say 'I'm so happy for you!' or 'Congratulations!'. Do you bite your tongue and bury all the things you really want to say? Do you simmer inside till you feel like you're going to burst with sheer incredulity?

When I get super duper angry, I have this reaction - maybe you get it too - I think it might be fight or flight...adrenaline. My legs tingle and almost go numb. My energy surges. My stomach aches.

That's how I feel right now. I have spent most of my life biting my tongue when something is not right. It's only been recently that I've spoken up. And mostly to deaf ears.

Ugh. If this 'news' were just affecting the person that is sharing it, well, I wouldn't mind so much. People can do WHATEVER they want - to themselves. But when it starts affecting innocent lives. No. No no NO.

I will go for a run. I will clear my head. I will decide how I should have this - handle myself - handle my feelings.

I wish I didn't care.

Color

2010-01-28T06:54:00.000-08:00

Just as cabin fever was about to set in and we were all about to lose our minds, mother nature decided to throw us a bone and the weather turned absolutely beautiful (what up, El Nino?)

We've been sitting comfortably in the mid 40's to 50's, with sun. In January. This time last year? Yeah, I don't want to talk about it. It was a rough winter.

With all the sun, we've been hitting up the park as much as possible...not our usual haunt, but another park about a mile and a half from our house - so mommy gets a three mile run in, and the kiddo gets to run amok and let go of some of that endless energy.

Win-win.

And even in the bleakness of winter, there is color...

natural color...

artistic color...

playful color.

The promise of spring is in the air, and many, many more afternoons at the park. I can hardly wait!

For more colors, check out You Capture over at I Should Be Folding Laundry.

Share the Happy!

2010-01-26T09:08:00.000-08:00

Aw, shucks! My darling Lissa over at Whooo's That Girl tagged me with this sweet award! And, she doesn't know it (till now) but I owe her big time, cause it gave me something to write about today. Muah!

So, here are the instructions:

1. Copy the image and display it on your blog.
2. List 10 things that make you happy.
3. Try to do at least one of them today.
4. Pass on the award to 10 bloggers who brighten your day.

What makes ME happy?

Coffee. I know it's probably a caffeine addiction, but I can't sub soda or tea for my beloved coffee. So maybe it really IS the way it tastes. The way it smells. How my temperamental coffee pot grumbles to life as it brews that sweet, sweet nectar...

Farmers Markets. Probably because they coincide with spring and summertime. And the best part of autumn. All the colors and smells. Getting to eat produce that's actually local and in season, rather than imported from places I'll probably never even go in my lifetime (not that I wouldn't go to Chile, but I'm not sure the opportunity will ever present itself).

Footie Jammies. ON CHILDREN ONLY (don't get me started on the creepiness of adults in footie jammies. And if you wear them, sorry. But it's creepy! More so on guys. Ok, rant over). There is nothing more snuggly than a baby or small child in footie jammies.

Soup. There is something super comforting about having a huge pot of soup simmering on the stove top. I love making a ton so I always have soup in the freezer. It's a go-to meal for me. When I feel like I've overindulged throughout the day, when I'm chilly, when I'm down in the dumps. Soup is healing. I'm convinced.

Little Kid Voices. I love listening to my son talk to himself in his crib, sing songs read himself books, or say 'Watchu doin', Mommy?' I'm relishing it now, before it turns into marathon whining. He's so sing-songy right now. Love it.

Reading in the Bath. Two of my favorite things, combined. Especially after a hard run. Hot bath, lavendar essential oil, tea or water and a good book or magazine. I find it's the only time I really read - if I'm in bed, I'm either passed out or watching Roseanne reruns (Nick at Night, holla!) and if I'm in the living room I'm on the computer or reading No No Yes Yes to my son for the 500th time.

Extreme weather. Okay, not weather that puts anyone in danger...but if it snows, I want it to be DEEP and stick for a while. I want to be stuck at the house. If it rains, I want a torrential downpour. If there's a river to watch flood, count me in...and I'm not dumb enough to actually drive through the water acros the roadway. I just like to watch it. If it's sunny, I want the sky to be perfectly blue and the temperature to be over 80. I want to complain about how hot it is then miss that heat when the weather turns gray and nasty. Wind? As long as there aren't any huge trees to fall on my house, bring it on. I don't even mind if the power goes out...we can cook in the fireplace!

Music. Life needs a soundtrack. That is all.

My family and friends. Without them, I'm lost. My husband keeps me grounded, and loves me when I'm not doing a very good job loving myself. My son is truly the light of my life. The rest of my family, my friends...well, I keep them around for a reason! They're amazing.

A clean, organized house. This is aspirational for me, to have both. But, some days, when I manage to pick up all the Hot Wheels and Legos, vacuum, bleach the kitchen and bathroom and wash and fold and put away all the laundry? I love those days. My house is never perfect, or even close to it, but my version of clean works for me.

And now to share the happy - I'm passing this award on to ten bloggers who make ME happy!

Have fun, ladies!

Hey Duff, Check It.

2010-01-25T16:53:00.001-08:00

I think I have found my new vocation.

I'm going to go work at Charm City Cakes. I think Duff would totally hire me.

Okay, maybe not.

However, I did learn a few things from my foray into cake making.

1) The professional grade food coloring is the bomb. And it also will stain your skin for a very, very long time.

2) I need a spinny platform thingy to frost properly.

3) It does not take very long to get tired of eating frosting.

4) There are a bazillion different types of decorating tips. I have a headache just thinking about it. I did manage to find one that makes grass and then found one to edge the cake and a wee one for writing. Writing, by the way, was the hardest part, by far.

5) A homemade cake - you think it would save you money - um, no. Not after purchasing all the fancy decorating tools. But at least I have them in my arsenal. They'll pay for themselves....in about 15 years.

6) Worth it? Oh, heck yes!

Look at that face! I'll go elbow deep in frosting ANY DAY for a smile like that.

Two Years Ago Today: Part II

2010-01-22T10:41:00.000-08:00

On January 22, 2008, I started the day (or VERY early morning) staggering into the maternity ward at the hospital. But not after getting lost because we did not know where we were supposed to check in.

Did I mention we didn't take a baby class or a hospital tour? Yeah. Whoops.

Luckily, I did manage to pre-register, so when I waddled up to the check in desk, in the midst of a mind bending contraction, B was able to tell them my name and I was admitted right away.

And as soon as I got into the room, I puked. Again. Tater tot casserole. Mmmm.

There really wasn't much of a question as to whether or not I wanted an epidural, especially since I was in so much pain at 4 centimeters. I had all intentions of seeing how far I could go without drugs. For reals. But between vomiting every time I had a contraction, and the fact that I didn't seem to have any lull BETWEEN contractions (I found out later I was having back labor), I was pretty much asking my husband to draw a target on my lower back with a sharpie.

Epidural. NOW. Ahhhh.

I could have made out with the anesthesiologist.

My doctor came about an hour later and since I wasn't really progressing, he ordered pitocin. The pitocin, well, it made my contractions worse. As in I could feel them through the drugs.

Four to five hours later, I had just finally made it to an eight. They broke my water, and I was supposed to get more pitocin. But the head nurse (who was a major pain in the ass, and treated my husband like he was an idiot) made the executive decision to hold off on the pit because I was 'non-emergent'. Meaning, my baby wasn't crowning. I guess the full moon had brought in laboring women in droves. Thirteen women were admitted after I was and their babies were born before I delivered.

So, my pitocin was put on hold. And I'm pretty sure she forgot about it. Another nurse helped me roll to my other side, and then the fetal monitor sounded funny. As in, it slowed way WAY down.

I was in a haze, between the epidural and sheer exhaustion, but the look on my husbands face and the fact that my sister in law had tears in her eyes, well, I knew something was wrong.

The baby's heart rate had dropped from 160 to 80. And it wasn't coming up.

The nurses flipped me back to my other side and his heart rate came back up, slowly. Whew. But, at this point, the doctor made the decision that the baby had to come out. Immediately.

I was prepped for surgery. My mom and sister-in-law helped B get dressed in his scrubs. Poor guy - he was terrified. As was I.

The doctor who was to perform the surgery was not my regular OB, but I had met with him. And I knew I liked him - and I discovered I liked him even better when he straight off started cracking jokes in the operating room and tried to put me at ease.

It worked. Well, I'm sure being numbed from the chest down didn't hurt either. Something about being completely numb was strangely comforting for me. I know some people don't like it, but after all the previous pain, I was relieved.

Within 45 minutes of the decision to perform a C-Section, we met our little boy for the first time.

Even though the birth was disappointing, nothing could take away from the magic of the moment. He came out screaming, and peed all over the doctor. My first glimpse of him told me that he looked JUST like his Daddy.

Our George.

I can still smell that delicious baby smell, and hear the little tiny baby coos.

Today, my baby turns TWO YEARS OLD.

The sweet baby smell has been replaced by little boy smells - not bad, just different - and the little coos are now full fledged words.

'No, Mommy.'
'Mommy, watchu doin'?'
'Are you kiddin' me?' (I kid you not, he said this last week).

He's a little boy who loves dancing to Jack's Big Music Show. He jumps more than he walks. He spends a lot of time coloring at his easel...and on the walls. He's slightly obsessed with Diego. He tries to hug and kiss his dogs. He gives his Daddy high fives and is a champion snuggler. He won't eat chicken nuggets, but devours avocado, green beans and tofu with gusto.

He's the G-Rex. He's ours. He's two (Sob!).

Happy Birthday to my little man!

Two Years Ago Today: Part I

2010-01-21T14:13:00.000-08:00

Two years ago today, I was very pregnant.

I told you. VERY PREGNANT. Ouch. Just looking at that photo makes my lower back hurt and my feet swell up.

That morning, I had a doctor's appointment where I was told I was 1 centimeter and 50% effaced.

'When?' I practically begged.

To which my doctor cheerfully replied 'Could be up to one or two weeks. We will induce you in two weeks if you haven't delivered.'

I have never been so irrationally angry in my life. I had high hopes. I'd had a weird crampy stomachache all morning - the drive to the doctor was particularly uncomfortable. Since I'd had no Braxton Hicks the entire pregnancy, I wasn't sure if that's what I was experiencing.

After getting dressed in my horrid gray velour sweatsuit (the only thing that fit me), I stormed out to my car and proceeded to call my husband, sobbing.

He didn't seem phased. I think he was used to his crazy pregnant wife at this point.

I calmed down, went and got a latte and a scone, and started feeling a little better. And incredibly nesty.

First stop, Lowes. I picked up light bulbs because I remembered we had a bunch of lights that had burned out in the house.

Next, Fred Meyer, where I picked up some totally unnecessary jammies for the baby, and stuff for dinner. I was making tater tot casserole (don't judge!), one for that night and one to freeze.

Once home, I proceeded to act like a total freaking nutjob and, on a ladder, 10 months (YES, 40 weeks is TEN months) pregnant, changed out about 12 can lights. Stupid? Totally. Did I feel like if I didn't change the light bulbs, the world would come to an end? Yes.

My mom dropped by with a glider rocker she'd picked up off of Craigslist, which was the final piece of the nursery. We unpacked a bunch of baby gear, put it away and she took care of the mountain of cardboard for me - cause if she didn't, I would have been outside in the freezing cold breaking down the cardboard with a box knife.

The whole time she was there, I was whining and crying to her. So pleasant!

She left, I cooked dinner, and froze the extra casserole. B was home soon after, and we ate - it was about 8 pm.

I wasn't feeling so hot, so I decided to sit in the tub. I got in at about 8:30. At 10:30, B came in and woke me up. The water was cold. And I felt awful.

Twenty minutes later, I was in the worst, gripping pain I'd ever had in my life. And the casserole? Yeah, that was spewed all over the bathroom.

By midnight, I had called the doctor and confirmed I was in fact, in labor. B did not know how to time contractions (we never took classes, doh!), but we figured the hospital was a good place to be, so he packed up the car, and we were off ...

Scary how vivid that memory is - but then again, I was embarking on the most amazing, rewarding journey.

More tomorrow!

Purr.

2010-01-21T08:59:00.000-08:00

When my husband and I first moved in together, a little over eight years ago, we decided we wanted to adopt some kitties. One night, he came home from work with a 'surprise'. His jacket had two lumps in the front - that were purring.

He pulled down the zipper to reveal two of the most adorable but sickly looking kittens I'd ever seen. A little tiger striped boy and a black fluffy girl with orange eyes. He had rescued them not from a shelter, but from the family of his little sister's boyfriend. The kittens and their mother had been sorely neglected (believe me, I was NOT impressed). I was immediately attached, but scared they weren't going to make it through the night.

But they did. And a vet trip, shots, worming, de-flea-ing and lots of kitten food later, they were thriving.

Boris and Bridget. They were our first children.

Now, they are eight years old. They still snuggle like they did when they were brand new. I've often wondered if animals have the capacity to love.

I'm pretty sure they do.

For more love around the home, click over to I Should Be Folding Laundry for You Capture. Even better, link up and join the fun!

Showered

2010-01-18T14:43:00.001-08:00

This is my youngest sister-in-law.

Her name is Rachel. And in six weeks, give or take a few days (or weeks!), she's going to be a mama. She is having a little girl.

She's got the whole 'glow' thing down pat.

Yesterday, my oldest sister-in-law, Julie, and I threw her a shower. Now, Julie and I are old hat at this shower business. We've thrown ~~too many~~ several showers in the (gulp) eight years I've been with her brother. Baby showers, wedding showers, bachelorette parties...you name it. And to be quite honest, we usually end up in a crumpled heap on the floor afterwards. Why? Because we have a problem with doing things for people who have entitlement issues...not thankful, not grateful. No. They think they deserve it. End of story.

So, suffice it to say, we've grown a bit bitter on the whole shower thing as of late.

Until yesterday. This shower yesterday? Lovely. All around. And the very best guest of honor we've had to date.

I don't expect a huge dramatic thank you, or anything over the top. It was just, I guess, the feeling, the warmth Rachel exuded throughout the day. She was just happy. I LOVED IT. EVERY SINGLE MINUTE.

And the food? Yeah, I have to say it was amazing. And, since I wasn't in charge of the camera during the food portion - I only have one shot. The cake, a five layer bad ass of a cake. Julie made it, and it was insane. We literally only had a few crumbs to sample. We ran out of cake just as I served the last guest. Whew!

If you could pan out on the table, we had some pretty fine eats. And somehow, we had JUST the right amount of food.

We had each guest decorate a onesie for the baby. So fun (and messy). We ruined a few tablecloths - whoops.

Love this one:

And these are so sweet:

But my favorite was decorated by a seven year old - we deemed this the one that will NEVER dry what with the five pounds of paint on it. Can you read what it says?

"Littel Miss Messy." I think this may have to go in a frame. It even has strategically placed orange paint in the diaper area.

At the end, we 'sisters' got together to commemorate the day. Me, Rachel and Julie. A few years ago, this whole event may have never happened. If there was a shower, Julie and I may not have been there. But now, we're together, as a family, and we're all better for it.

Yesterday was exhausting, but incredible. My heart is full, Rachel's nursery is stocked, and I can't wait for my new niece to arrive!

Hibernation

2010-01-13T21:42:00.001-08:00

So, yeah. We don't go outside much in winter here (the beautiful Pacific Northwest). It has poured rain for days.

What do we do during winter?

We hang on the couch in our jammies. We hibernate, till winter is over.

See? Even the dog doesn't want to go outside. It's nasty out there.

For more You Capture winter, head on over to I Should Be Folding Laundry.

'P' Fix

2010-01-13T11:41:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I noticed the 'p' key on my computer was sticky. As in, I had to mash it down with all my might to type a 'p'. Eventually, I avoided words containing 'p'. Logical, no?

Last night I was leading the Tworkout (twitter workout, cleverness!) for the Sisterhood during the Biggest Loser and the 'p' issue was coming to a head. It's probably not advisable to bang a key with your fist, but I was getting to that point.

This morning, I said to myself, 'Self - there has got to be a way to fix this 'p' roblem.' I googled 'how to fix a sticky key.' And a multitude of information poured forth. I chose e-How and within a few seconds, had a strategy. By strategy, I mean I popped the key off with my fingernail, blew the disgusting detritus that had built up away, and popped the key back on.

Yeah, I'm pretty handy like that.

I love the Internet. You can find a fix to ANYTHING.

Like a few months ago, I came home from shopping and realized the store had forgotten to remove the security tag from something I'd bought. GAH. Usually, not a huge issue, but it was something I'd purchased specifically for a trip, and we were leaving the next morning. I didn't have the time to go back to the store for proper removal.

Enter Internet. Within minutes, I'd found a YouTube video demonstrating how to remove security tags using two sets of pliers. No damage to the clothes. Awesome. And probably made for and totally intended for use by juvenile delinquents.

Whatever. It worked.

And the best one Internet fix yet? Homemade salve for dog ear infections (our golden retreiver has chronic ear infections - we've spent probably a grand at the vet - and the vet has yet to come up with a better solution). One tube monistat, one tube polysporin, and one tube cortaid. My cousin actually told me about this one, and I'm about to mix some up and try it - I'm at my wit's end with the vet bills and infection. Poor dog!

See? The internet's for more than blogging and playing Bejeweled...

Satan Shoes

2010-01-11T18:19:00.000-08:00

We've been back from Vegas for almost two days now. I still don't know what day it is or where I am.

And no, it's not because I got super wasted (seriously, I didn't), or partied my ass off. No. No, everyone, it is because, officially, I am now old and boring.

There, I said it.

We were in Vegas for thirty six hours and just BEING there has completely thrown me off kilter.

I do have to cut myself a little slack - we flew out of Seattle at 6 am, which meant we had to leave our house at 3:30 am. And I couldn't get to sleep the night before till about midnight. So, we arrived in Vegas on about three hours sleep. Bad idea. Note to self - do not sleep deprive yourself BEFORE hitting the party capital of the world. Just saying.

When we arrived at our hotel (the Stratosphere, LAME, but more on that later) it was 9 am. And we were informed we could not check in till 3 pm. Six hours to kill. We left our bags with the bell desk and set off on foot to the Consumer Electronic Show. (by the way, we had to clarify WHICH convention we were in town for - there was also a huge porn awards show/convention in town - more on that later too).

The Consumer Electronics Show? SO FREAKING COOL.

LOOK:

The best part of the show, for me at least, were the 3-D televisions. Except the glasses you have to wear. They're very Buddy Holly. Which is okay, if you're Buddy Holly.

We hung at the show for a while, then walked and walked and walked. And walked. It was at this point that we decided we'd be taking taxis because walking in Vegas sucks. Outside, we had to navigate crazy traffic and a zillion pedestrian bridges - and the weather was pretty cool. Inside, we ended up walking in circles and getting hopelessly lost in the casinos.

Around 3:00 we returned to our hotel, which was at the VERY VERY END of the strip. With no free shuttle. We took a nap, had some snacks, and got ready for a night on the town.

I had picked up a great LBD before we left town and grabbed a strappy pair of silver heels out of the closet - I'd worn them in a wedding when I was pregnant, and I didn't recall them being uncomfortable...

[The shoes in question]

WRONG. Oh. My. Actual. Lord. About an hour in to walking around casinos looking for a fun place to have drinks and dinner, I was actually considering taking them off and walking around barefoot IN VEGAS where godknowswhat is on the ground. My feet hurt THAT BAD. We went to Walgreens looking for moleskin/cushions/painkillers. We dropped $30 on foot comfort paraphernalia (B's feet hurt too).

Did it work?

Heck no. Not even close. I was pretty much convinced my little toes were going to be severed by one of the straps of the Satan shoes.

Not to mention that the dress I wore must have looked like something the porn stars were wearing because we were invited to a party hosted by Ron Jeremy.

Here's the dress...I don't know. Maybe if I were wearing Lucite heels? (sorry for the photo quality - my old camera croaked and I don't have a handle on the new one yet - or maybe it's from that yard long daiquiri in the right of the shot).

Thinking back, we totally should have gone to the Ron Jeremy party. THAT would have been a story, for sure.

Anyhow, the night went on, and I was getting desperate about the imminent toe severing and or rage I was about to enter over the excruciating pain. We were walking out of the Bellagio (where we'd JUST MISSED the fountain show) when I saw it...

AN OPEN STORE. Urban Outfitters. Once inside, it was a veritable shoe mecca. I wanted to make out with the cashier who gave me a knowing nod when I rushed up to the register with a pair of flip flops and volunteered to take the tags off for me.

[The shoes sent from Heaven]

I felt like a new woman! I could have partied all night!

But instead, we played a little video poker, had some drinks, went back to the hotel and watched Zombieland (cool film, by the way).

WE ARE SO OLD AND BORING.

The next day, more CES, more video poker, and we flew home at 8 pm. We both missed our kiddo so much. He, of course, was just fine with us gone. Typical.

I wish I had some fabulous, exciting Vegas story, but hey - I'm a pretty low key gal. I can live with that.

I cannot, however, live with the lady who spread out potty pads all over the public bathroom in the airport and was trying to coax her little dog into pooping. True story. In the human bathroom. I guess it's probably necessary before a flight - but really? REALLY?

I wish I'd snapped a picture of THAT.

My Faves of 2009: Photo Year in Review

2010-01-07T20:02:00.001-08:00

I can't believe I've been participating in You Capture since last March. Crazy. This year was the year I really picked up my camera and made an effort to be more creative - catch different perspectives. As I click through my albums, I am so thrilled at some of the fabulous stuff I've snapped this year! Behold:

This photo is from one of my first you capture challenges. I love the photo (I still can't believe I shot this - the reflection? Wow.), but love even more where doing these challenges has brought me - I've made so many new friends, and discovered I'm a wee bit artistic - who knew (not me!)?

This was for the black and white challenge. I love all the shells! This was G-Rex's first experience at the beach. We were there for one of the lowest tides of the year. Absolutely incredible.

Last summer was the best I've ever had. One of the perks of being laid off was getting to hang with my kiddo and play in the sun! We had SO MUCH FUN. This captures our summer so perfectly!

The tea shot. I love tea. I love the colors in this photo. Now I want tea...

Hands down, my favorite shot of the entire year. A boy and his dog. And a tennis ball. LOVE.

Thanks, Beth, for making us stretch ourselves. I can't wait to see what we all capture in 2010!

For more year in review shots, head on over to I Should Be Folding Laundry.

Revolution.

2010-01-06T14:35:00.000-08:00

I'm over here today.

I haven't been blogging about weight loss much or at all over here since I started contributing over at the Sisterhood, but I just have to say that I'm about 3 pounds away from losing 20 since March.

I KNOW.

It's not going super fast, but it's going. I'm starting to see the outline of my former self. Even though I know my body will never get back to exactly where it was pre-baby, that's just fine with me.

So, that said, I just wanted to once again spread the word about our new challenge over at the Sisterhood of the Shrinking Jeans. It's called Rethink You Shrink, and it. is. amazing.

If you want to lose some weight...if you're trying to work on your self image...if you're trying to get in shape - check it out.

Seriously. I'm not kidding. This is some good stuff.

Milestone (Maybe)

2010-01-04T21:50:00.000-08:00

So, guess what?

I'm going to Vegas in three days! Woot! The hubs is letting me tag along to ~~biggest nerd herd gathering on planet earth~~ the Consumer Electronics Show. I joke about it being all geeky and stuff, but honestly? I'm wicked excited.

On the flip side, I'm kind of freaking out because we are leaving the G-Rex behind. He is staying with my parents. It will be the longest we've ever left him. I'm sure he'll be fine. I'm the one who will be a wreck.

Did I mention I haven't fully weaned him yet? This may be the end of the nursing. Again, I'm sure he'll hardly notice, but I'll be crying...INTO MY COCKTAIL, FLYING TO VEGAS.

I can't believe I've made it this far with breastfeeding. For a long time, I wanted to at least make it to a year. Then, I decided 18 months. Now that he actually walks up and tells me 'NURSE RIGHT NOWWWWW' while yanking down my shirt, I think it's time to call it a day.

And I will be sad. I won't lie - a few anticipatory tears have already been shed. The last remnant of him being a baby will be gone. He'll be a little boy.

I don't know if I'm ready.

Can I stop time? For a little bit, at least?

Please?

Feats of Strength and Endurance

2010-01-02T19:45:00.000-08:00

If you have a toddler or have ever cared for a toddler - or even just observed a toddler - you know they are crazy unending founts of energy. As a mother of a 'busy' child, I more than fully understand the phrase 'run ragged'.

A while back I was chasing my monkey around and was thinking there should be some kind of official competition for moms. Especially since it seems that every playgroup/family gathering/et cetera has some mom who seems to completely have her poop together.

I want to see HER under pressure.

I want to put a bunch of moms in a competition and make them actually PROVE their parenting prowess.

This matching of wits and wrangling shall be called - wait for it - the Mamalympics.

Some potential events?

- Getting toys out of packaging. There is a special place in hell for whoever is responsible for twisting for all five hundred of those little ties in those Little People sets. Necessary? Really? As my cousin's wife called said, it must be a prison job.

- Carrying a diaper bag, all the groceries and a child all at once. Whoever can get everything from the car to the house in one trip wins.

- Eating dinner while simultaneously doing ninja hands to protect your food. No distracting child with a sticker book or a favorite tv show. The evening news must be on the television.

- Diaper change for speed and accuracy. Children will be fed a fiber heavy diet prior to this event. A pee pee only diaper is an instant disqualification.

- Cleaning the entire house during nap time. Two hours to clean as much as you can, laundry, prep dinner, crochet. Or, you can sit on your computer like I do.

What would your event be in the Mamalympics?

Resolve

2010-01-01T12:13:00.000-08:00

I'm not huge on resolutions, because, in all honesty, I am terrible on the follow through. My craft/office/sewing room is full of unfinished projects. My elliptical trainer now resides at my parents house and is now doubling as an extra closet. There remains a 2 x 8 foot of wall in the kitchen that remains unpainted...two years after we originally painted.

Even now, I'm having a staring contest with all the bins, baskets and organizational products taunting me from across the living room. I went out yesterday, feeling all virtuous. I hit Target and Storables (I want to live in that store. It is everything my inner type A aspires to be). I even picked up brand new cleaning products.

And we're 12 hours into 2010 and my house still looks like Christmas vomited all over. Pine needles, loose bulbs, errant pieces of garland. Ugh. At least I've got the tree outside - but not after dumping 2 gallons of water all over the wood floor. Whoops.

But, I know FOR sure there are two things I WILL do this year.

1) I will complete my Team in Training program and run an entire 13.1 miles in June to benefit the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (here's my fundraising page if you're so inclined). I'm doing it with my girls at the Sisterhood, and I could not be more excited. Plus, we've just started an awesome challenge. So many exciting things happening over there!

2) I do my darnedest to blog everyday, here, or at my poor little food blog, which has been disastrously neglected. Not sure what I'm going to ramble on about, but I want to throw myself back into this blog, full stop. If you have any ideas or questions for me, please comment - any inspiration would be so helpful! Mwah!

Okay, 2010, let's do this thang!

Decade

2009-12-31T10:55:00.001-08:00

Do you remember where you were on New Years Eve, 1999?

I do. I was back from England on Christmas break. Single. A functional alcoholic...uh, probably. I say that affectionately. It is up for debate how I survived that year, learning to drink like a Brit. Rough.

My girlfriend Christine and I rang in the new millennium together at a house party. And I am straight, but she was truly my girlfriend that night. We gave each other a nice smooch at the stroke of midnight. I mean, there weren't any guys there except for Christine's brother and his friend. And we were not kissing them. There was no tongue, okay? Sheesh. Plus she's pretty cute. See?

And that concludes my college 'experimenting'. Anyhow...

When I look at that picture it boggles my mind that was ten years ago. I look like such a baby. No gray hair. A lot thinner. Apple cheeks. (By the way, Christine looks totally the same. I am glad she is so awesome or I'd have to hate her).

Ten years, a wedding, a baby and much, much more later. Crazy. I can't even imagine what the next ten years will bring.

Not so crazy? My new years celebration this year. I will be surprised if I make it to midnight. Maybe I will celebrate New Years with my east coast friends...and head to bed at 9 PST. That sounds doable.

Happy New Decade everyone!