Wow, you guys. I am really bad at this. THIS. You know! *gestures vaguely around*
The last weeks and months have been a blur of capital BUSY. I wake up, I get the kids to school, I run around and do errands and chores and start my work day, I pick Toby up, I work all afternoon, pick Jack up from school, settle the kids in with snack, get dinner started, eat, put kids to bed, and end my evening in a vegetative state in front of the television.
Lather, rinse, repeat - 5 days a week.
And the thing is, really, truly, it's fantastic. I'm frazzled, I'm exhausted, and I'm having trouble keeping straight the day of the week or remembering when I last put on mascara... and I honestly feel like I am in my element, at last. I really do. I'm earning a paycheck and helping support my family, I have purpose every minute of my day, and despite the fact that nearly all of my favorite pasttimes have had to be put on hold for the moment, I am about 99% content. And still managing to love and smooch my charming offspring and spouse and not yell nearly as much as I usually do.
I am also 100% in need of a way to find time to update this here blog regularly, because my brain pan is getting pretty full and I really do require the exhaust valve of WRITING. Even bad writing. And technically speaking, I *could* have spent Midnight to 3am last night doing that - the writing thing - but it was otherwise earmarked for... (*looks around to be sure we are alone, then leans in and says in semi-shamed whisper*) the Twilight - New Moon movie.
THERE! I said it. Also, in case you are interested, the award for best acting officially goes to Taylor Lautner's abs because OH-EM-GEE. I think I had my first cougar moment. Seriously, thanks a lot Chris Weitz for throwing that in my face and reminding me that I am too, too old to be drooling over jail bait. JAIL. BAIT. And yes, if a 30-year-old man was drooling vocally and publically over a 17-year-old actress I would be totally disgusted and probably call him bad names. I feel the appropriate level of shame for squealing like a tween at several key (and usually shirtless) moments in the movie. And I have to live with myself now!
And yet ...still totally toying with the idea of making a cafe press shirt that says "Team Jacob....'s Abs" because HALLO 8 PACK! And while we're at it... Hallo the rest of you shirtless werewolf types! And, uh, a casual nod in the direction of Edward's shirtless torso because.. meh. Rob? Honey? We both know I've been faithfully adoring you from afar these many months... But, Sugar? I REALLY hope you did a few sit-ups between New Moon and Eclipse. Pasty White is not easy to wear well -- trust me, I'm an expert on the particular subject -- but my eyes are still kinda sore from the glare of Shapeless Shirtless Edward after basking in the glow of the Honey-Rich Buffness of the aforementioend shirtless werewolves for the other 2 hours of the film.
Also, note to self, apparently there is a very good reason I don't usually go see movies after 11pm. That is obviously prime "Crazy" time for developing inappropriate crushes on teenage movie actors and composing abstract monologues to fictional vampires with sadly non-six-packed fishbellies.
Aaaaaand... at least for now.... that's all she wrote.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
The Facts of the (Married) Matter
The curse of the broken mag charger looks to be broken today, thanks to my awesome husband who is picking a new one up for me at Best Buy this afternoon. (In spite of the fact that I got a ridic speeding ticket yesterday - one which I truly didn't earn. That would make this my second bogus ticket this year, but the last one I paid because - while I was NOT doing the speed the officer stated, I knew I was speeding and I wasn't going to quibble over the difference between the 73 I was doing in a 65 and the 80 he claimed I was doing "based on his visual estimation".) (I was hoping for good karma for my honesty in paying the price for my speeding.) (My estimation of karma's fairness was highly inflated, obviously.)
So I got a ticket yesterday for going 38 in a 25, only I was not going 38 in a 25. My van won't even get UP to 38 between stop lights, which is where I was supposedly doing this mythical 38mph, and apparently karma wants to bite me where the sun don't shine because now this 2nd offense = double fines and Hooray, kids! Christmas is officially CANCELLED! OY.
*pause for deep breathing exercises*
SO! In light of the fact that I have the worst habit of falling into bad luck, and also of PMS'ing approximately 25 days out of each cycle, I figure I owe it to the HubCap to publicly thank him and maybe fill out an entry on my sad, neglected corner of the web by admitting some things I would never admit to him in person.
And with that... away we go.
5 Things I Really Hate To Admit To My Husband But Are True.
1) It doesn't really bother me when you grab my boobs while I'm washing dishes. I would have told you so sooner, but I was waiting for you to recognize that it does not, in fact, constitute actual foreplay.
2) You snore a lot less than you used to. That said? When you DO snore, it is still akin to jackhammers clearing out a lot in my skull. But still, not nearly as common an occurrence as it was a decade ago. I just like to tease you about it because it's one thing you can't prove me wrong about one way or another. (Unless you secretly set up a recording device in our bedroom, which I'm fairly certain would be grounds for divorce in any state. Plus, my brothers would woop you but good.)
3) Your butt? Still looks just as cute in those jeans. I just don't like to admit it because my own arse is officially the size of Texas. But that's petty of me, so I'm letting it go. (It helps that I finally started to lose a few baby pounds and am now merely wearing "Ridiculous Size" pants instead of "Ludicrous Size".)
4) You probably haven't noticed, but I'm working on enacting the principle that me having a bad day does not, in any way, get improved by making your day worse. I'll keep working on it, and next time you can totally have the last beer from the fridge. And I promise not to pout about it - not even a little. Also, I will try to stop hogging the remote.
5) When I said "I'm not sure how we would work it out" and "we can talk about it more later" what I really meant was "Yes, of COURSE I want to go on a free trip to Arizona with you, but I am too exhausted to work out the particulars". I was hoping you would pick up on that and take care of all the arrangements, but I ran out of things to fill out the last number on this list, so I am translating from Wife Speak for you. You're welcome.
So, Baby? Thanks (in advance) for the macbook charger that will allow me to get all caught up on the rest of my laundry list of computer chores, and let me dust the cobwebs offa this place.
**Not to mention upload the photo of me in my smokin' hot "Mominatrix" shirt from the super-hawt Kristen Chase , otherwise known as "She who makes being the mother of 3 look way sexier than it actually is".**
Cuz, Baby? You are, and shall continue to be:
the monkey to my banana
the black mask to my ninja
the peg leg to my pirate
the Orb of Inquisition to my cloak of +5 agility
You. Complete. Me. (and my laptop, Angelina, who also thanks you.)
So I got a ticket yesterday for going 38 in a 25, only I was not going 38 in a 25. My van won't even get UP to 38 between stop lights, which is where I was supposedly doing this mythical 38mph, and apparently karma wants to bite me where the sun don't shine because now this 2nd offense = double fines and Hooray, kids! Christmas is officially CANCELLED! OY.
*pause for deep breathing exercises*
SO! In light of the fact that I have the worst habit of falling into bad luck, and also of PMS'ing approximately 25 days out of each cycle, I figure I owe it to the HubCap to publicly thank him and maybe fill out an entry on my sad, neglected corner of the web by admitting some things I would never admit to him in person.
And with that... away we go.
5 Things I Really Hate To Admit To My Husband But Are True.
1) It doesn't really bother me when you grab my boobs while I'm washing dishes. I would have told you so sooner, but I was waiting for you to recognize that it does not, in fact, constitute actual foreplay.
2) You snore a lot less than you used to. That said? When you DO snore, it is still akin to jackhammers clearing out a lot in my skull. But still, not nearly as common an occurrence as it was a decade ago. I just like to tease you about it because it's one thing you can't prove me wrong about one way or another. (Unless you secretly set up a recording device in our bedroom, which I'm fairly certain would be grounds for divorce in any state. Plus, my brothers would woop you but good.)
3) Your butt? Still looks just as cute in those jeans. I just don't like to admit it because my own arse is officially the size of Texas. But that's petty of me, so I'm letting it go. (It helps that I finally started to lose a few baby pounds and am now merely wearing "Ridiculous Size" pants instead of "Ludicrous Size".)
4) You probably haven't noticed, but I'm working on enacting the principle that me having a bad day does not, in any way, get improved by making your day worse. I'll keep working on it, and next time you can totally have the last beer from the fridge. And I promise not to pout about it - not even a little. Also, I will try to stop hogging the remote.
5) When I said "I'm not sure how we would work it out" and "we can talk about it more later" what I really meant was "Yes, of COURSE I want to go on a free trip to Arizona with you, but I am too exhausted to work out the particulars". I was hoping you would pick up on that and take care of all the arrangements, but I ran out of things to fill out the last number on this list, so I am translating from Wife Speak for you. You're welcome.
So, Baby? Thanks (in advance) for the macbook charger that will allow me to get all caught up on the rest of my laundry list of computer chores, and let me dust the cobwebs offa this place.
**Not to mention upload the photo of me in my smokin' hot "Mominatrix" shirt from the super-hawt Kristen Chase , otherwise known as "She who makes being the mother of 3 look way sexier than it actually is".**
Cuz, Baby? You are, and shall continue to be:
the monkey to my banana
the black mask to my ninja
the peg leg to my pirate
the Orb of Inquisition to my cloak of +5 agility
You. Complete. Me. (and my laptop, Angelina, who also thanks you.)
Monday, November 02, 2009
Hallo.
Hello, internet people.
Why are you looking at me like that?
Oh. That. Yeah, I know I haven't been around lately.
No! It's not you! It's me! Totally me!
The last month has been a blur of new routines, soccer practices, cub scout meetings, neighborhood drama, birthday parties, and whathaveyou.
Basically I've been running around here like a chicken with a bad haircut, and using my new phone to do all of my internet communications. (If anyone knows how to set up blogger to work on the iphone, I can send cookies!)
I didn't realize how long it had been until I got the advertiser notice that it had been 2 weeks since I posted new content.
2 WEEKS. Let's just let that sink in for a moment, shall we? I honestly had no idea - NO. IDEA.
So here we are and I feel like I should offer you a cup of coffee and a danish, and we can sit and kvetch for a bit, except that I really don't have the time this morning.
Tobin is now in preschool 5 mornings a week which is.. yeah, I can't really talk about that, but he is. He's 4 now! And everything he does comes complete with action poses and sound effects and Lots! Of! Exclamation! Points! Everything he does is the MOST - EVER! (Mom! I just jumped the most highest jump ever! Off of the bathroom counter!)
Jack is kicking first grade's arse. He got straight A's on his first ever "letter grade" report card. I just sprouted 3 new gray hairs. (On my chest, most likely.) He earned his "bobcat" rank at cub scouts. He is seven kinds of awesome.
And Milo. He is 1. He is pulling up on everything in sight, and will be walking momentarily. Because everything happens at once, obviously. He naps while I work every day, which means I did something amazing in a past life to deserve a kid so accomodating. He is fully weaned, which - we're not going to talk about that. Because if we talk about the fact that my baby is really pretty much no longer actually a "baby" in technical terms, I will start thinking about how we were pretty sure this would be our last kid, and then I'll be back to where I was whenever the hell I was talking about maybe possibly trying one more time for a girl or just for another baby because BABIES! and I will now pause to take a mental breath because that might be the most disturbing run-on sentence in history and my therapist (if I could still afford one) would totally have something to say about how I go on and on and blab when I'm trying to run over a topic that I really don't want to talk about but fortunately for me my ADD gives me a good exit because -
Hey! Look! Something shiny!
To sum up, I am back... -ish. It's November, which means NaBloPoMo, and obviously I missed day 1 yesterday, so I can't technically participate, but in honor of the month I will attempt to at least get back to posting on a normal basis. Posting regularly will be much easier when I manage to get a new mag charger for my macbook. (I've gone through 2 of them now. Not excellent.) Until then, I will be light on photos and probably heavy on the sarcasm. Which, you know, lowest form of humor and all that, but I go with what I have. Welcome back! You missed me desperately, didn't you? heh.
Why are you looking at me like that?
Oh. That. Yeah, I know I haven't been around lately.
No! It's not you! It's me! Totally me!
The last month has been a blur of new routines, soccer practices, cub scout meetings, neighborhood drama, birthday parties, and whathaveyou.
Basically I've been running around here like a chicken with a bad haircut, and using my new phone to do all of my internet communications. (If anyone knows how to set up blogger to work on the iphone, I can send cookies!)
I didn't realize how long it had been until I got the advertiser notice that it had been 2 weeks since I posted new content.
2 WEEKS. Let's just let that sink in for a moment, shall we? I honestly had no idea - NO. IDEA.
So here we are and I feel like I should offer you a cup of coffee and a danish, and we can sit and kvetch for a bit, except that I really don't have the time this morning.
Tobin is now in preschool 5 mornings a week which is.. yeah, I can't really talk about that, but he is. He's 4 now! And everything he does comes complete with action poses and sound effects and Lots! Of! Exclamation! Points! Everything he does is the MOST - EVER! (Mom! I just jumped the most highest jump ever! Off of the bathroom counter!)
Jack is kicking first grade's arse. He got straight A's on his first ever "letter grade" report card. I just sprouted 3 new gray hairs. (On my chest, most likely.) He earned his "bobcat" rank at cub scouts. He is seven kinds of awesome.
And Milo. He is 1. He is pulling up on everything in sight, and will be walking momentarily. Because everything happens at once, obviously. He naps while I work every day, which means I did something amazing in a past life to deserve a kid so accomodating. He is fully weaned, which - we're not going to talk about that. Because if we talk about the fact that my baby is really pretty much no longer actually a "baby" in technical terms, I will start thinking about how we were pretty sure this would be our last kid, and then I'll be back to where I was whenever the hell I was talking about maybe possibly trying one more time for a girl or just for another baby because BABIES! and I will now pause to take a mental breath because that might be the most disturbing run-on sentence in history and my therapist (if I could still afford one) would totally have something to say about how I go on and on and blab when I'm trying to run over a topic that I really don't want to talk about but fortunately for me my ADD gives me a good exit because -
Hey! Look! Something shiny!
To sum up, I am back... -ish. It's November, which means NaBloPoMo, and obviously I missed day 1 yesterday, so I can't technically participate, but in honor of the month I will attempt to at least get back to posting on a normal basis. Posting regularly will be much easier when I manage to get a new mag charger for my macbook. (I've gone through 2 of them now. Not excellent.) Until then, I will be light on photos and probably heavy on the sarcasm. Which, you know, lowest form of humor and all that, but I go with what I have. Welcome back! You missed me desperately, didn't you? heh.
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