No I am Not Really This Granola

Oh, internets.  It has been a while, hasn't it?  My black thumb and I have been busy.  Busy being sleepy, not keeping up with chores, pretty much killing the container garden, and boring my children with my lack of motherly awesome.  (But! We went to the Cool Pool! The one with the Frog Slide! And there was ice cream! And apparently lots of exclamation points!) 

That trip to the pool, by the way, cost me 2 days of recuperation.  Because while my thyroid appears to be fine, the Chronic Fatigue continues. (Which, by the way, is most likely exactly that.  Apparently I had mono at some indistinct point in the past and it is probably dragging me down like a lead balloon. So yay for that.)

But lest you think it all be doom and gloom around the Casa, allow me to relieve your brain.  There are games afoot, and after adding magnesium and B12 to my vitamin regimen, I am beginning to feel a bit of energy come back.  Enough that I went for a walk/jog last night with Gizmo the WonderDog.  We did 2 miles.  (You're appropriately impressed, aren't you.  You should be!  Please?) Hmm that sounds a bit needy.  Okay, FINE then. Don't be impressed.  But when me and my pasty-legs-of-iron bust into the not-so-skinny-but-still-smaller-than-the-maternity-pants jeans, who will look silly THEN, huh?! I ASK YOU.

*cough*

I'm sorry, where were we?  OH!  So, yeah. After pretty much killing all of my carefully tended food plants (and decidedly killing the peach tree sapling purchased on a whim at Walmart for fifteen bucks. Oh, I killed it dead, y'all) I have discovered the glory of the local CSA.  I am now waiting to hear back from our local farm to see if they allow buy-ins mid-season.  Otherwise we will buy in for next year, and I'll spend the rest of this year attempting to not feed the kids a steady diet of grilled cheese and chicken nuggets.

So there's that.

Pretend I have a clever segue here as we move on to talk Vacation.

Finances being what they are, we knew we would be driving somewhere for vacation this year.  We talked about several possibilities -- Philadelphia and the Please Touch Museum (I'd link to it, but I'm lazy.  Google it.  Also, don't make the mistake we kept making and call it the "Touch This" museum if you are describing it to other people, as it sounds oddly pornographic and will likely garner the same looks of confused horror.)  We looked at the Deleware Beaches, but that was cost prohibitive.  Also, we waited too long and everything was booked. But mostly the cost. (ahem.)

Finally, Big Daddy had a lightning strike of brilliance.  The Family Aum will be heading to CANADIA!  Lock up your mounties - Mama is headed for the border.  Well, not immediately; we're going in August.  The trip will take us through the wilds of Upstate NY, into the (assumably) bustling metropolis of Montreal and, finally, up to the French-Canadian Frenchness of Quebec City.  (Hey, Monsiour Fisher! I'll finally have an excuse to use my High School French! You know, for something besides swearing in front of my kids!)

So the summer is shaping up to be a little bit of crazy (Oh, yeah, I did 3 cakes in 2 weeks! Because I am a masochist!) and a lot of awesome. (Energy returning. Sun Shining.  Bonjour, Canada! and such like.)

And if this post has come off as a rambling stream-of-consciousness bit, you'll have to be forgiving.  I haven't slept in 3 days, courtesy of Milo.  I'd work up the energy to cry, but when I realized he cut his first tooth all was well.  Funny how a little tooth (or a reason to finally get my passport) can change the perspective, isn't it?

Now just pretend there's a witty closing here that wraps this all up into some sort of neat thesis, and we'll call it a day.  

What, You Didn't See Me?

Because I was so totally here.  I just, uh, wasn't posting.

Yes, it is November again and this marks the first time in 3 years that I have decided NOT to participate in the insanity that is NaBloPoMo.  (National Blog Posting Month for the uninitiated).  And I thought I would feel a lot more guilty about it, but mostly I feel relieved - like a kid on a snow day who didn't study for a test.

I have not been feeling my blog mojo lately.  I think this is likely due to sleep deprivation and perhaps a touch of the blues.  Oh, and also due to pathological home improvement, but I'm not posting photos of my finished living room floor yet... Oh No, I am not.

You see, my darling husband, Mister Big Daddy, got called away at the last minute to the Czech Republic and I'm tormenting him by making him wait until his return to get the full effect of my efforts.  So all y'all will just have to wait until after tomorrow to see what my crazy hath wrought.  (Trust me, though, it's pretty spectacular. I am officially In Love with the TrafficMaster vinyl flooring planks.  Like laminate - but cheaper! Also can be installed by a crazy person, such as myself, wielding only a box cutter and a pair of flat-nosed pliers.)

Dear TrafficMaster, I just gave you the most awesome recommendation EVER.. on my website.  Because I installed your stuff in a fit of post-partum nesting frenzy and I still managed not to screw it up too badly and it looks quite nice.  How's about you send me a few gajillion dollars because, really, who doesn't want a positive review that includes words like "Crazy" and "Box Cutter"?!  

Sincerely, 

Crazy Mother of 3 Boys (and yes, I realize the "crazy" is redundant there.)

So.

Um. Wait, what were we talking about again?  I seem to have lost that train of thought somewhere between removing a soaked pull-up from Toby and sipping at my cold coffee while eyeing his Cheerios.  Is it wrong to steal breakfast cereal from your toddler when he's not looking? I figure he'll never miss those 3 pieces, unless he smells them on my breath.  He's sneaky that way. I think he's going to be a detective some day.  Or maybe a train conductor, what with the Thomas & Friends obsession.  But hopefully not the creepy guy who asks all the neighborhood kids to come over and play with the trains in his basement.

I'm suddenly realizing it's probably not a great idea to post in my current condition.  And by "condition" I mean when one's husband is across an ocean and very likely enjoying himself some Viagra gingerbread.  No, really.  Here's the photo:

Apparently Czech gingerbread is famous.

I'm hoping it's not for the reason this would indicate.

Thankfully, Big Daddy is now on his way to Prague to catch a flight that will eventually bring him home again.  I'm pretty sure he packed half my brain in his suitcase when he left.  I'm hoping he remembers to bring it back again, and that it hasn't been displaced by souvenirs for the boys and suspicious gingerbread wrappers.

Have You Ever Seen The (Frog) Rain?

We could talk about how Jack woke up at 2am this morning, wide awake and ready to party.  

We could talk about how Jack fell asleep this afternoon and took his first nap in about 4 years.

We could talk about how Jack woke up from his nap in order to vomit copiously.

We could talk about the lovely surprise baby shower the neighborhood gals threw for me this afternoon, wherein I was showered with kindness and presents galore.  Milo finally has some BRAND! NEW! STUFF!  Because, this being my third pregnancy, the sum total of what I had procured for him consisted of a couple of onesies from the local consignment shop.  No more! He now has a plethora of items that will be his and only his.  One of these items is a flannel set of bib, burp cloth, and satin-edged blanket lovingly hand-crafted by my friend's 85-year-old Grandmother - whom I have never met.  My own Gram passed away last Thanksgiving weekend, and my other Grandma just moved into a care center at the age of 90.  There aren't great-grandmas around to make blankies for Milo, and so he gets to be the lucky beneficiary of a woman with enough love to spare for a third little baby boy.  So, yeah, that's the point at which I nearly cried.

We could talk about how I finally broke down and got the Twilight series, and swore never to admit it... and how I got so wrapped up in the vampire world Stephanie Meyer created that I read the whole series in a week.  Twice.

But no.  Instead? Instead let's talk about how I finally screwed my courage (or stubbornness, depending on your perspective) to the sticking place and determined to shave my legs after six weeks pregnant neglect.  Let's talk about how I squeezed myself into a warm bath and determinedly wielded my pink Lady Bic until my wookie-like gams were finally smooth.  

Then we can talk about how I used my foot to open the drain and let the water out, then reached back to lift myself up and discovered several inches of standing water remaining in the tub behind me.  Because? Because my ginormous ass had made a watertight seal with the bath tub.  

We can talk about how this discovery was quickly followed by the realization that I was firmly wedged into the tub.  I was completely and undeniably stuck.  

And so I pondered my predicament for a few moments, then sighed and turned on the hot shower.  I sat like that, wedged into the tiny tub with the hot water running over me, for a few minutes before Big Daddy wandered into the bathroom after mowing the lawn.

"Are you okay?" he wondered.

"Yeah... not so much.  I'm stuck."

"Were you planning to call for help?"

"Definitely No."

"Can I help you get up?"

"I think you're going to have to."

On second thought... let's not talk about that either.  

Let's talk about you.  How are you doing?

Nothing Doing

I woke up this morning, ate breakfast with Big Daddy and the boys, got Big Daddy out the door and on the road in his shiny new silver car (no sign of mining gnomes yet, but I'm keeping a vigilant eye), and then I sat down in one of our wing chairs with the most recent Entertainment Weekly while the boys settled into their play for the morning.

Two hours later I woke from a sound sleep to find two angelic children playing quietly at my feet.  I think they might have been mine, but since my boys are not famous for quiet play I can't be entirely sure I didn't hallucinate the whole thing in that semi-comatose state between awake and asleep.  

But really that's neither here nor there, except to explain that I lost 2 hours today and got a much later start than anticipated on the grocery shopping and house chores.  And I still can't seem to find the cable for my camera, so I have no photos for you.  I'm so far behind the power curve that I might officially be upside-down by now.  Which would explain the hair, y'all, because today I resemble a horrifically pregnant Lyle Lovett.  

Which is all really getting at the point that I probably have nothing to say today.  I know! One of "those posts" where the writer is all "I'm just posting to say I have nothing to post".  Did you know those posts can be quiet helpful for the writer if they are, say, extraordinarily worn out and looking for a good excuse to procrastinate the starting of dinner?  

I am a champion procrastinator.  I also happen to have a ridiculous case of ADD, which helps because it's quite easy to delay doing things if you can't remember exactly what you set out to do in the first place because - ohh! Lookit that, I really need to redo my pedicure, don't I?  

I'm sorry, what were we saying?  Something about me being an exhausted procrastinator with the attention span of a coked-up ferret?  Yeah, that might have been it.

So strictly for your entertainment, here is a list things that distracted me today- which will also serve as the perfectly reasonable list of excuses why I didn't accomplish 90% of my "To-Do List" today.

-"What's that smell?" (in order: the dog, Toby's diaper, something still unidentified in the fridge)

- "Oh, look! I haven't seen this episode of Blue's Clues..."

- "What was that crash?" (Toby tipping over the heavy table in his room, Toby flipping the laundry basket over in an attempt to ride it down the stairs, Toby knocking the step-stool over while trying to wash his hands for the 54326 time today)

- Things I noticed that completely derailed me en route to something else: 

- the 4 dead flies we have trapped on the fly paper in the kitchen

- my empty coffee mug

- 3 empty packets of fruit snacks

- the entire section of fake Crocs at Walmart

- a forgotten package of unopened bacon in the crisper, discovered while searching out the aforementioned mystery smell, which I have been fantasizing about all afternoon

- Things I need to get done but were NOT on my to-do list for today, which didn't stop me from spending precious hours obsessing over them while accomplishing exactly nothing this afternoon:

- packing my suitcase for the Birthing Inn

- packing for our trip to the beach next week

- finding Big Daddy's swim trunks for the beach trip

- shopping for new school clothes for Jack

- bringing up the box of "newborn to 3 months" boys' clothes from basement storage to wash and put away for Milo

- installing the infant car seat into the van

- cleaning the van out for the beach trip

In fact, the only serious task I accomplished today was scheduling the dog for a visit with The Vet From Hell for this weekend so he can get up-to-date on all his vaccines before we deposit him at the boarding kennel next week.  So acute is my fear of this horribly nasty man, I got off the phone with his very pleasant receptionist and almost wept with relief that the only available appointment was Saturday morning.  This means that Big Daddy gets the honor of dealing with the whole thing, and I am saved from being lectured on: the evils of Any Pet Food That Is Not Science Diet, being a horrid mean dog parent who refuses to get my dog vaccinated for anything that isn't a documented risk in our area (no, I don't want the lyme disease vaccine for an extra $50, thanks), and allowing the nice vet at our boarding kennel to administer a rabies vaccine because it was more convenient for us at the time.  

All things considered... well, I mean, the whole vet thing? It's pretty traumatic.  So when you put that into perspective AND realize that I am also incredibly busy with the growing of a small human being, I really accomplished quite an impressive lot today, didn't I?

Thanks, I'm glad we had this talk.  I feel much better now.  Was it good for you?

Extremes of the Waking Spectrum.

This is the difference between the toddler who wakes up, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, at 4am and the Mother who had to get up with him.  By 9am he is ready to conquer the planet, whereas I am still looking for the license plate on that tractor-trailer that ran me over.

This Is Your Brain On Motherhood.

We had a great time yesterday and today, visiting Grandmommy last night and going to two very different birthday parties today.

The first was a kid's party - my niece turned 2. It was cuteness and sweetness and light-hearted adult conversation. It was pink cupcakes and mini quiches. It was... restful.

The second was a grown-up's party - an old co-worker friend of mine. It was raucous and sometimes loud (as people kept playing with the volume on the iPod) and I had a chance to catch up with a lot of people I worked with in another lifetime. It was strange, and made me a bit nostalgic for that old life - the life where I worked and laughed and had working lunches and inside-office-jokes. I was called "Bubbles" (An old office nickname. after Bubbles the Power Puff Girl. It's a long story) for the first time in nearly 6 years. People who knew me when I was single and carefree and putting toys all over my cubicle got to see me again -- married and chasing after the boys and generally being responsible and grown-up and whatnot.

One of the young office guys (one I would not have expected) has grown up nicely, married a lovely woman, and now has a spectacularly gorgeous 5-month-old baby boy who I very nearly smuggled out to my minivan to take home. He was THAT cute, people.

And, in case you can't tell from the rambling, half-coherent nature of this posting, I have driven somewhere between 250 and 300 miles in the past 30 hours. 6 hours of driving since yesterday afternoon. My leg is killing me and my head is swimming.

Add to this the fact that the boys took turns not sleeping last night (alternately taking the opportunity to scream bloody murder as I trudged up and down the stairs from guest room to downstairs recliner) and I am fried. I am literally oozing around my house, staring vacantly at chores I will need to do tomorrow. Realizing the dog will have to be picked up from the kennel in the morning. Bargaining Jack into his bed with promises of a special breakfast tomorrow.

Cheerios are "special"... Right?