Midwest "Mom"ments

Unemployment Isn't for the Faint of Heart

2012-02-14T07:00:00.001-06:00

This isn't a lovey post for Valentine's, so I included heart in the title to make it a bit more palatable. I mentioned I'd had trouble with my unemployment being rejected at the beginning. It turned out that my SSN was wrong for some reason (which is crazy to me since I double checked it, but whatever). So a week and a half ago, I called the KS Dept of Labor and got it fixed. But she had to unfile my original claim and file a new one, so I was a week behind on getting my benefits.

Last week I got a letter confirming my benefit amount - yea! So Sunday I logged on to file for the week, and it gave me this error:

Seriously? So I had to wait til Monday morning to call. When I did I explained the situation. The woman said she didn't know why I was getting that error but that she would file it for me. She said I needed to file for the week before last as well. I told her I had already done that over the phone, and she said there was no record of it. I asked if that meant that the distribution would not be available for another week. She said it would hit my account tomorrow, but that they would be mailing out the debit card for it and I should receive it in another 7-10 days.

Are you freaking kidding me?

I told her I knew it wasn't her fault and she probably hears this stuff all the time but this is now three weeks I've gone without getting payment, and it's getting a little stressful.

January/February is when we have a lot of extra bills due: the girls' health insurance, our life insurance, etc. We were waiting to get my unemployment check to sign me up for new health insurance, but I also need brakes on the van. And I have bills to pay from the OB from everything that went on in January plus a stray urgent care bill from last April that just showed up (???).

I realize it shouldn't be a simple process, but when you do everything you're supposed to do and it doesn't work, how do people living on a single income survive? We will be able to borrow from the girls' savings to tide us over, and it will work out, but I feel for those who don't have that option.

Baby R and the Terrible Twos

2012-02-13T07:00:00.003-06:00

Source: spdbloggernetwork.com via RGs' on Pinterest

Baby R is in the throes of the tantrum phase. It seems like everything makes her whine/cry/scream. Instead of saying what she wants done, or done differently, she melts down immediately. It's incredibly irritating. Sometimes it's the standard hungry or tired reaction. But sometimes, it's partially my own fault. When they are playing, if I'm doing housework or in another room and don't realize a disagreement is happening, I don't respond until there's screaming. I'm trying to be better about that, and I've been pretty firm about not letting her get her way when she tantrums.

The one thing about it is that she is very quick to forgive. Once she settles down, she will cry, "Mama! I want you!" I'll say, "I want you, too, honey. Are you done?" Sometimes she's not, and I let her know she needs to finish before I will pick her up. But after the storm passes, she'll sniffle and say, "Yeah" in her adorable little girl voice. I hold out my arms, and she climbs into me. "I love you, Mama." Heart. Melting. "I love you, too, baby."

I'm ready for the tantrums to end, but the making up part is so lovely, I wouldn't mind if they last a little bit longer.

Fun Houzz Stuff

2012-02-09T21:19:00.001-06:00

I found out about a site today, www.Houzz.com, that has a lot of home improvement/decor ideas. As my For the Home board on Pinterest suggests, I'm pretty fond of such things. They have an idea book section, and the enticing thing about it is that they've partnered with several other big names like This Old House and realsimple so it's not like Lowe's where you only see their ideas. I could probably spend a week just in that section of the site!

There's also a product section with links to cool things like this Scrabble mug for my Words with Friends playas

Source: houzz.com via Jaborandi on Pinterest

and this library embosser for the bibliophiles in my life

Source: houzz.com via Jaborandi on Pinterest

Finally, if you are wanting to do more than just DIY projects, they have a significant list of professionals in various fields of expertise, from specific areas such as pools and spas, to general contractors. They are broken down into different regions - including KC! - and highlight companies. Excuse me as I leave here to drool and pin some more fun stuff!

Bright Bloom in a Gloomy Space

2012-02-09T20:49:00.000-06:00

Source: google.com via Jaborandi on Pinterest

Today I met with the Regional Manager for Plum District. When I first heard about Plum District last summer, I couldn't wait for them to branch out to the midwest. It's a daily deal site like Groupon, but by moms for moms. I think it's going to be fantastic! The manager here is really enthusiastic and is excited about getting feedback from local moms to ensure the site works best for our area. Please "Like" the Facebook Page and if you have anything you want to see listed there, post it. I'm going to be adding a button to my site soon, too, so of course it would be lovely if you'd be willing to click on it to access their deals.

Depressed

2012-02-06T22:56:00.001-06:00

I've had a lot of feelings over the past month or so with all that's gone on, but even though there were times of sadness, it passed. Until this weekend. It wasn't a huge thing, but it felt like the final straw. It's a little complicated, but to summarize, I need to spend over a thousand dollars on software to continue my Etsy shop in the vein it's currently in. Clearly, this is not an option at this juncture. I feel like every attempt I make at carving a new path is met with monolithic roadblocks.

And now, I just can't seem to get out of this funk. I feel helpless and hopeless. It didn't help that the 5-10 minutes I heard on the news tonight was about a father and young sons murder-suicide, a teen slitting a youngster's throat and a kid killed by a neglectful bus driver. (All of which reinforced the validity of my decision to stop watching the news in the first place.)

I know things could be worse. I know I should be thankful for all I have, and I am. I looked at Facebook tonight and prayed for friends who are having biopsies, and those who have lost parents to cancer, and those who have kids with devastating diseases, and I think, "Suck it up!"

And to be honest, talking it through with a dear friend tonight and blogging about it has helped. I've asked God to close doors before, though not in this area, but maybe that's what's happening now. I know the one He opens will be fuller and richer than any He closes. So I'm going to go to bed, and pray for peace about life and not worry. I'm sure this, too, shall pass.

It's Been A Week, And I Have a Question for You

2012-02-03T15:33:00.000-06:00

Source: attemptingaloha.blogspot.com via Deb on Pinterest

Today is the last day of my first week of unemployment. I registered online for my state benefits on Sunday night. I read through the directions, got all my information and entered it accurately. (By the way, they ask for you to have pay stubs from the last 18 months, and then you only enter information from the last 12 months. Um, hello, annoying? Why do that?) Anyway, it said I would receive a booklet with information within 5 days. Yesterday I got a letter from them that said:

No wages found, you do not qualify for benefits.

Interesting. I must have imagined the last 8 years of my life or grown money on a tree. So I need to call them today. Sigh.

My last post was about not having a schedule yet and not worrying about it. But now I'm needing to figure it out. I haven't been online much this week, partly due to not feeling well and partly due to just not seeming to find the time. I need to take a poll:

If you are a stay-at-home-mom, how do you find time to do your online work?

Part of my problem is that I don't have a smart phone, so I can't do Twitter while monitoring the kids playing outside. Not that I want to be one of those moms who ignores their kids while they're playing, but to spend ten minutes on my phone doesn't seem unreasonable.

Also, I thought I'd be able to get stuff done during nap time, but so far this week, I'm 0-4. The first couple of days since I was sick, I napped, too. Then there was a day when one of the girls wouldn't sleep, and one day I spent nap time on the phone with a Jaborandi Grove client and a friend who called who had just read my blog and found out about the craziness that's been my life this last month. Today my mom is here, so I ended up with a few minutes to myself, but that won't be the norm.

I end up getting online at night, but I feel like I've missed everything that happened during the day. Do you feel that way, too, or do I just need to get used to it?

Looking forward to hearing your thoughts!

Loan Options

2012-02-03T15:32:00.002-06:00

With my newly unemployed status and DH's impending unemployed status, we are reviewing our mortgage options. Unfortunately, we refinanced last fall, so I don't think we're eligible anyway. But we do need to talk to the bank about possibly making some kind of adjustment. Thankfully we do have a bit of savings to get us through a few months, but it would be better if we could reduce it and extend that out a little longer.

While looking things over, we ran across some VA loan refinance rates. It doesn't apply to us as we aren't military, but it might help you or someone you know. To find out if you are eligible, you can click here. For market forecasts, mortgage rates and other real estate news in your area, the Housing Predictor is helpful.

This was brought to you by your friends at www.militaryvaloan.com.

Scheduling

2012-01-31T07:00:00.000-06:00

Yesterday was my first unemployed day. It felt like a long weekend. Or maybe a day I decided to call in sick because I was slightly under-the-weather (because I was) and wanted to spend more time with the girls. I intended to put myself on a strict schedule immediately so that I wouldn't be a slacker, but since I had a sinus headache that felt like my brain had swelled beyond the capacity of my skull, I decided to take it easy on myself and just do what had to be done.

One of those had-to-be-done things was finish an order for Jaborandi Grove, these letters for my friend Katie over at Sluiter Nation for her newest addition who is due in a few weeks. Another of those things was to bake cookies for S to take to preschool tomorrow because yesterday was her half-birthday.

I always wanted kids with summer birthdays because I was jealous of my friends who had them since I have a December birthday. But the downside is that they don't get to do any birthday stuff at school. So I have to remember her half-birthday. Which really is almost impossible since I stopped counting her age in months - she's 54 months today!

S decided she wanted to make sugar cookies with the Easter cookie cutters that I bought on clearance after the holiday last year. So we have little baby chicks, eggs, churches and bunnies that have been doused in sprinkles of all kinds by eager toddler and preschooler hands.

Today will probably be another play-it-by-ear day as I'm still not feeling well - this warmer weather is fun, but it's wreaking havoc on my allergies - but I'm not going to feel guilty about it yet.

Movie Review: Albert Nobbs

2012-01-28T07:00:00.001-06:00

Image from the IMDb link below.

In case you haven't heard, there's a new site around that measures your influence. It's called Swaylo. They let me know that I have sway (you heard me!), and I got free passes to a screening of "Albert Nobbs" starring Glenn Close.

To be perfectly honest, I had never heard of this film. Granted the last movie I saw in the theater was "Cars 2" in July. (This is due to several factors including being a mom to 4- and 2-year-olds and being married to a man who worked at a theater as a teen and went for free all the time so he refuses to pay the $12 for a ticket.) I got to bring a friend with me, and when we got to the theater, they let me know that since I was with Swaylo, I had a seat in the roped off section of the best seats with my name on it. I felt pretty special. Particularly since, as I mentioned before, I hadn't seen a movie in six months.

I didn't watch the trailer or anything, so all I had to go by was the poster image shown above.

I'm quoting IMDb's synopsis because it's succinct, and I couldn't have said it better myself:

Glenn Close plays a woman passing as a man in order to work and survive in 19th century Ireland. Some thirty years after donning men's clothing, she finds herself trapped in a prison of her own making.

Glenn does an excellent job portraying her character; the details with which she executes her mannerisms to appear masculine are amazing. The makeup artists also did a fantastic job. The supporting actors were good, too. The plot was... meh. An interesting concept, and I liked the setting of Dublin in the 1800's, but it was a bit slow. The end had a nice touch with connecting things back together. I think Glenn's performance was well done, but I'm glad I got to see the film for free.

Last Day

2012-01-27T07:00:00.001-06:00

Today is my last day at my job. It's weird - I've been there 8 years. Longer than I've ever lived in one house. Longer than I've been a mother. Longer than I've been married. It will be quite an adjustment. Putting my trust in God. I know He will provide.

It isn't Christmas until we watch a cheesy holiday rom com on TV

2012-01-26T23:56:00.000-06:00

Guest post written by Kathleen Powers
One of the best parts of the holidays to me is watching all of the really cheesy romantic movies on TV. There is definitely a different breed between the ones that come out in theaters and then the ones that are on TV. But there's nothing wrong with that. I think that the holidays with all the excitement and happiness is the perfect time to take advantage of that and watch some bad movies without feeling bad about it.
Normally I don't really like romantic comedies during other times of the year. Maybe it's the bright Christmas lights or all of the joyful music. But either way, those movies work their magic on me. While I was online looking up some ideas for cheesy movies to DVR, I ran across some info on miracle ear and after that I decided to go and get fitted with some hearing aids.
I was glad that I did because I've found so many great cheesy movies to record on my DVR so far. The thing is, I'm kind of worried about having the time to watch all of these. But I've still got a good amount of time for that.

Final Notes

2012-01-26T07:00:00.004-06:00

Flowers from my Sis and BIL

This is the final entry of a 4 part story. For part 1, please click here. For part 2, please click here. For part 3, please click here.

January 21, 2012

Considering the stories I had been told, it seemed to me that the bleeding was never much more than a regular period. Until today. Which I thought was odd since it's been several days since it happened.

I was visiting my friend who was in that horrible air show accident in Reno last summer. She's doing really well. She's been working from home but will be going back to her office next week. Her prosthesis should be ready in the next couple of weeks.

Anyway, while I was sitting there chatting, I felt a surge of blood. It soaked through my pad, and I could feel it spreading across my jeans within a couple of minutes. I excused myself and went to the bathroom, got cleaned up, and thankfully, stopped bleeding.

When I got home I decided to call the doctor. He told me that it's normal after the medication I took on Wednesday to have a gush. If usually happens between two hours after to a few days after. I felt much better. Well, mentally anyway. Physically, I was wiped out. I finally told the girls I just needed to rest for a little bit on the couch. Then I started having pains, so DH got some hydrocodone for me, and I ended up staying there for the rest of the day. I felt better after dinner though.

It seemed fairly simple - not that I want to do it again, but it wasn't as physically painful as I had imagined. Granted, I also knew it was coming so had pretty strong drugs to help me through it, not to mention supportive family and friends, and God's peace surrounding me when I needed it most.

It's amazing to me how different people and things were put in my path in this time. The opportunity to meet with my friend - she's been through the most horrific thing imaginable, and still has an incredibly positive outlook. She's been back in KC for a couple of months, but the date we had set to meet was today. I had no idea last week when we planned it that between making our plans and actually meeting up I would go through this. Seeing her today couldn't have been at a better time.

Also incredible is that I just finished reading the book "The Hiding Place" by Corrie Ten Boom. I had never heard of this book, even though it is 40 years old. My best friend told me about it at Christmastime. I tried to check it out from the library before New Year's, but there was a waiting list. It wasn't available for me to start reading until - you guessed it - a few days before my miscarriage. It's about a woman who was in the Nazi concentration camps for hiding Jews and was able to give thanks for everything in spite of the unimaginable atrocities she endured. So inspiring.

And so I am trying to give thanks for everything - "even the fleas" as Corrie and her sister did. I know God has a plan, and everything will work out. Thank you all for your kind words and support.

The Miscarriage

2012-01-25T09:50:00.000-06:00

This is the third of a 4 part story. For part 1, please click here. For part 2, please click here.

January 18, 2012

Yesterday, I decided to go to my regular night job shift a little early since my FIL was taking the girls to the airport to drop off my SIL who has been visiting the last few days. I spoke to my boss and let him know what was going on and that I may not show up to work one night for obvious reasons. I left there and stopped by my office because I needed to print off some personal emails, but couldn't access them because my account had been hacked earlier in the day. I thought I had fixed it by resetting the password but Hotmail locked me out anyway. Frustrated, I headed back home to meet friends to carpool to bunko.

One of them, SJK, knows what's going on. I had called her last night to tell her while I was downing half a pint of Ben & Jerry's Phish Food that DH was kind enough to run to the store for. (I'm a comfort eater.)

Anyway, we carpooled with two other ladies, so I didn't get to talk to her about it much. But I was so grateful she was with me because around 8pm, I started cramping. At 8:30pm, I had to run to the bathroom. I was bleeding pretty heavily, and I heard a loud "plop" - it was starting. I kept it together surprisingly well, though when I came back out to the kitchen, I couldn't look at SJK, because I knew she would be able to tell from looking at my face, and I would break down. I asked her if she had any ibuprofen, and swallowed four quickly.

We had just finished a round and were debating starting another one, so I begged off. We had dessert and wrapped things up, heading out into the bitter cold.

When we got back to my house and the others had gone, I told SJK what she had already surmised. She hugged me and wished me well. I headed in to the house.

I let DH know. He asked if there was anything he could do for me, but there wasn't yet. I couldn't find our heating pad like the OB had suggested, but I did find a lavender wrap we have that can be warmed in the microwave. I got into bed, and prepared myself for a few hours of pain and sadness.

Oddly enough, they didn't come. I was uncomfortable, but not curled in a ball moaning. And though I bled, it was more like a regular period than the gushing I'd been expecting. I finally fell asleep.

This morning, I woke up and felt like there was still unfinished business. I wasn't sure what to do. Call the doctor? Wait and see if anything more happened this morning once I was up and moving? Go to work?

In the end I decided to go to work mostly because I needed to tell my boss what was going on and meet a friend for lunch.

Lunch ended and still nothing more had happened. I called the doctor, and they said to come right in. I let DH know and was sure they would have to do a DNC to finish the job that Mother Nature had started.

The nurse did a sonogram to verify, and it all looked clear. Since I felt weird, though, to be positive everything was completely cleaned out, she sent me home with a med to do the job and hydrocondone for the pain that would go with it.

I waited to we got the girls in bed, then took the pain meds before placing the prescription under my tongue. She had said it would take about 30 minutes to dissolve and get started, so I watched "Modern Family" to keep my mind in a semi-vegetative state, distracted from the process my body was going through.

The lavender wrap and hydrocodone helped, but it was severe enough that I got out my iPad for multi-tasking distraction. DH rubbed my lower back while we watched "CSI," and that helped, too.

At 10pm, I took 3 ibuprofen as directed to overlap the hydrocodone doses and help with the interim. But even though I set an alarm for a second dose of the heavy stuff at midnight, I was afraid of falling asleep and missing it and being in too much pain to get it back under control. So I started writing today's entry. And wouldn't you know it, the alarm just sounded. Time to take my meds, read my Bible and pray, and to try to sleep.

Telling the Girls

2012-01-24T07:00:00.001-06:00

This is the second of a 4 part story. For part 1, please click here.

When I called DH from the doctor's office, I knew he would be in his morning meeting. I left him a message and told him I'd be home around 10am, and to call me as soon as he could. He called around 10:15am and was already in the car on his way home. I have never been so thankful for him.

When he got home, I filled him in on the details. He choked up when he asked if they could tell if it was a boy or a girl. I told him it was too soon to tell. He asked if there was anything we could have done differently. I told him no, and even though I know it's true, I had briefly thought, except maybe if I hadn't worked out Saturday, or if I hadn't let myself get so stressed. But part of me had wondered last week if we were trying to force something that wasn't meant to be. The OB had even said that sometimes when our hormone levels are low, it's just our body needing a little help. But sometimes they are low because our body is trying to resolve something that's not going to work on its own.

DH and I sat on the couch, holding hands and leaning on each other. I can count on one hand the number of times I've seen him cry. I was a little surprised that he had gotten so attached so quickly. And so, so very thankful that I wasn't going through this alone.

I had texted a friend who has been through this - a couple of times, unfortunately - to ask her what she had told her girls as they had been around the same age as ours with her last loss. She called me as soon as she had a break at school. It was wonderful to hear her voice and advice. She told me it would suck for a long time. Then it would get better. Then August would come and DH wouldn't understand why I was upset. I would tell him because it was the baby's due date, and he wouldn't get it. And I told her that's when I'd call her. Though, after how emotional he was today, I might be surprised by him again when that time comes.

He went to pick up the girls at lunchtime. By then I was able to be calm. While we were eating, I told them we had some sad news. We weren't going to have a baby after all. S asked why. I told her that it just wasn't the right time. I was prepared for her to be upset, but I should have known she would just want to know more. She asked me where the baby was, how it got out, couldn't it just stay there and start growing again when it was ready, etc. Thankfully, she wasn't as upset as I had feared. She's definitely disappointed, but it's not as bad as I thought it would be.

After lunch we all napped. When S got up, she wanted to play with the neighbor boy, P. DH took her outside and chatted with P's parents while they were on the swing set while I stayed in and waited for Baby R to wake up. Apparently, S told P that we weren't going to have a baby anymore. He said, "What happened to Baby R?" Leave it to kids to bring the funny to a seemingly humorless situation.

Secrets

2012-01-23T09:33:00.003-06:00

I apologize for the length of this entry. I have broken it up going forward, but due to the nature of the outcome of this portion of the story, I felt it necessary to contain it in this first post.

December 21, 2011

I'm not good at keeping secrets. I mean, I can keep other people's to myself, but my own secrets - those are hard for me. Especially this one. It's been wearing on me. I feel so many emotions about it, and I want to talk it through. I haven't even told DH yet. Writing is the only catharsis available to me now, so that will have to do.

I'm late. My first reaction was panic. I'm about to be laid off completely from my main job. I won't have insurance. Things are already tight financially as it is. Will DH be mad at me for letting this happen? Then I think, it takes two to tango, honey. But I still feel like an irresponsible teenager.

At the same time, I'm ecstatic. We've been discussing a third baby but had put the idea on hold because of my job situation. But I'm not getting any younger, so I'm excited that it's happened.

Which brings me to my next emotion: guilt. I feel terrible that I'm even having this inner dilemma, because I have so many friends struggling with infertility, and I should feel nothing but blessed.

And then there's the fear. Fear that something will go wrong. We're messing with fate. We have two beautiful, healthy baby girls. What if something happens with this third one? What if it is the boy DH wants, but it has a serious health problem? What if we should have just been content with our perfect foursome?

Part of me knows it's the hormones. But part of me knows it's true.

• • • • •

December 25, 2011

Last night while DH and my brother-in-law were dropping off a new couch at my parents' house that we had gotten them for a Christmas gift from Santa, I took a pregnancy test. It was positive. I knew it would be, but the finality of the results was still a little unnerving. I wrapped it with a note and laid it on DH's pillow.

When we finally got to bed at 2am after a flat tire on the way home from his aunt's house, getting the overnight casserole I found on Pinterest put together and doing our Santa duties, he saw it. I told him I was giving it to him then because I wasn't sure what his reaction would be. He opened it and said, "I'm not sure what my reaction is either." But he was smiling. I imagine he feels the same way I do. Then he said in his fake, tough-guy voice, "It better be a boy this time." I knew everything was going to be ok.

• • • • •

December 26th, 2011

We told the girls at dinner tonight.

Me: "Girls, Mommy and Daddy have some exciting news. We're going to have another baby."

S: Groans. "Another baby?"

Me: "You don't want another baby?"

S: "No."

Baby R: (Has to follow whatever big sister does.) "No."

DH: "Would you rather have another sister or a brother?"

S: "Another sister!"

Me: "It's fun having a sister, isn't it?"

S: "Yeah!"

A few minutes later.

S: "Who's tummy is it going to come out of?"

Me: "Mommy's tummy, honey."

S: "Aw, I want it to come out of Daddy's tummy!"

DH laughs.

Me: "Well, sweetie, babies only come out of mommy tummies."

• • • • •

December 30th, 2011

I've been spotting the last couple of days. I'm debating if I should call the doctor to see if I can have my blood tests done today instead of waiting til my appointment next Friday. All the stuff I see online says it isn't unusual, so I'm going to wait for now.

• • • • •

December 31st, 2011

S wants to name the baby the same first name as her with Santa as a middle name. I told her we'd talk about it. She wanted to know when we could feel the baby kick, and I told her it wouldn't be for a few months. She asked more questions so I got out my "What to Expect" book and showed her the sketches at the beginning of the first month and second month and read the description saying that the embryo is only 1-inch long. She put her hand on my stomach and told the baby she loved it. My heart wanted to burst with love for her.

• • • • •

January 1, 2012

DH has been under the weather the last few days, so we had vacillated about what we were going to do for New Year's Eve. Yesterday afternoon, he decided he felt well enough for us to go to a party we'd been invited to, but we couldn't find anyone to watch the girls on such short notice, so I stayed home while he stopped by for a little bit. When he got home, we watched a couple of episodes of "Criminal Minds" because we're trying to clear off the DVR since we're switching our cable back to Time Warner next week. It was a super exciting evening. Especially when I started worrying about the spotting since it seemed heavier and pinker.

Today, I called the OB about it. She told me to come in first thing Tuesday to have some bloodwork done. At first, I was thinking, "Tuesday? That's two days from now. Shouldn't I go to an ER or something?" But then she eased my fears by saying that since I wasn't cramping or gushing blood, not to worry too much as 50% of pregnant women do bleed through their first trimester. She told me to take it easy - not bedrest, but no unnecessary activity. That alone seemed to help.

Last night I was up until after 1am, not because it was New Year's, but because I was worried and playing out horrific scenarios in my mind. But this morning I remembered to give it over to God, and I've had a great peace about it. Why don't I remember to do that in the first place?

• • • • •

January 4, 2012

The doctor's office called today with my test results. My progesterone was low: 7.2 (supposed to be between 9 & 47), and my HcG was also low: 5,252 (should be 7,650 - 229,000 for where I think I am in my cycle). They want to check my levels again tomorrow, but in the meantime put me on a progesterone script that seems to be helping. I'll be 8 weeks Friday when I go for my first official checkup. If I can just get through 4 more, I should be in a more stable place.

DH and I hatched a plan last night that incorporates our current situation, and if we can make it work, would be ideal. He suggested telling my boss that I don't need to go back to full-time status if I can keep my benefits the way things have been, and offering to change my hours from Monday/Wednesday/half-day-Friday to everyday from 10am-2pm. That would be better for my clients if I was there every day, and it would probably be easier on my parents to only have the girls half days (part of which corresponds with nap time). Then we talked about him taking over my part-time night job since he could probably work 15-20 hours/week in comparison to my 12, so I could focus more time on my Etsy shop.

When I dropped the girls off at my parents' house this morning, I mentioned it to my dad and he said he doesn't think they can watch the girls much longer. It's just too hard on them; they're 70. I understand, but was feeling a bit deflated.

Then I got to the office and one of my co-workers said he'd discussed the state of the company with the owner Tuesday, and the long and short of it is that if we don't get one of the projects we're trying to cultivate to come in soon, we'll be closing the doors at the end of the month. That completely knocked the wind out of my sails.

All I can do is laugh.

• • • • •

January 5, 2012

DH came home today and told me his boss let him know the owner wants to go in a different direction. DH will be let go sometime between tomorrow and three months from now.

All I can do now? Is cry.

• • • • •

January 7, 2012

Yesterday I had my first actual OB appointment. More blood, but at least she got it on the first try instead of the third. My arms look like pin cushions after three days of blood draws! The sonogram looked like I was only 6 weeks so they want me to come back in 2 weeks to verify. Currently my due date is August 21. The nurse and I had a good laugh over the fact that when I went to my yearly in October we talked about getting me on birth control. And then I cried when she asked me if things were better at work. She gave me some more hormone samples and prenatal samples and told me to just get the cheapest script for vitamins with DHA.

Today I went to pick up my prescriptions and the cheapest prenatal was $40/month. And my insurance doesn't even cover the hormone script, so it was $300. I bought the vitamins but passed on the hormones and will call the doc on Monday to see if there's anything else I can take instead.

• • • • •

January 15, 2012

I was able to get a different prescription, but I have been spotting again. I tried to workout one day, but that made it worse. I think it would be better if I was less stressed, and working out helps that, but it didn't seem to help my uterus as much as I would have liked, so trying to take it easy.

S has suggested a new name for the baby. Bug Belle Santa. She is so funny!

I decided I love the name Amelia, but I can't bring myself to use it since it was the third most popular name last year. Sigh. Of course, if it's a boy, we won't have to worry about it. We'll see. DH likes Madeleine for a girl, but we already know several kids with that name.

• • • • •

January 16, 2012 (Martin Luther King, Jr. Day)

The spotting turned red around 1am. I had a mild cramp and passed two tiny clots. I went to bed, and tried to lie very still in the hopes that maybe I had just overdone it this weekend. Maybe if I just rested, the baby could hold on.

As I fell asleep, the chorus from David Crowder Band's song, "He Loves Us" ran through my head. We sang it in church yesterday:

Oh, how He loves us, so
Oh, how He loves us
Oh, how He loves

S came to our room around 6:30am. I told her it was too early to get up, and she could snuggle with me or go back to her bed. She crawled under the covers, and we laid on our sides facing each other. She wrapped her tiny arm and leg around me, because she wanted to "snuggle with the baby." She cooed at my belly and told it how much Big Sister loved it. It took all my strength to hold back the tears. "You would have been so loved," I thought to myself.

I dropped the girls off at my parents' house, and called the OB's office on my way to work. After I told them what was going on, they told me to come right in.

As I sat in the exam room waiting for the doctor, I focused on those lyrics. I'd been hearing them every waking moment this morning. It was a great comfort.

The OB came in and started the sonogram. As soon as the image appeared, it verified what I already knew in my soul. My perfect bean-shaped baby was nestled in its little home. Motionless. There was no heartbeat. Tears were already sliding down my temple into my ears when the doctor spoke the words.

She let me know my options, then gave me some time to call my husband and get dressed and cry. I decided to let the miscarriage just happen on its own. In the meantime, I have to figure out how to tell S. It will break her heart.

Food!

2012-01-19T21:16:00.002-06:00

Source: chiquitabananas.com via Jaborandi on Pinterest

I've been on a homemade food kick again. Partly because I know it's healthier, partly because I thought it would be cheaper. Sadly, the awesome waffles I made today turned out to be much more expensive than the box of Eggo's DH brought home from Costco tonight. I finally made those homemade granola bars, but no one liked them but me, so that doesn't really help. And the homemade bread is de-lish to everyone, but even with my new slicing guide I got for Christmas, it's a little bulky for sandwiches, especially for the girls since they rarely eat half a sandwich each anyway. So it's somewhat impractical to make the bread. I made a smoothie yesterday (see the image above) which was pretty good. Would have been better with a little chocolate syrup, but yes, I realize that eliminates the healthy part of it!

Until our recent job situation, I always felt like it was worth the extra money to make the food from scratch because it doesn't have all the preservatives, I know exactly what's in it, etc. But we are getting to a serious money crunch, and when it comes to deciding if we should make homemade waffles or buy the Eggo's, I'm truly at a point where I feel like we have to go with the Eggo's. Part of me thinks it's not a big deal, it's only temporary. We'll all survive if we don't eat the absolute best things for a year. (I realize all the examples I gave are not the healthiest choices, too.) Trying to focus on the positive. Thankful that we have the option to eat whatever we want, and not whatever is available, or worse, nothing at all.

Linking up with Elaine for Miss-Elaine-ous Monday!

Update

2012-01-16T08:42:00.000-06:00

I started freelance blogging and am looking into a freelance logo designing gig. We'll see how those pan out. I also started a new line of products on my Etsy shop, R.S.V.P. It's invitations and paper goods. I'm signed up to be a vendor at a luncheon expo in a couple of weeks, so hopefully that will bring some traffic in. I'm also planning to partner with a couple of Etsy friends to do some cross promoting. Unfortunately, there just aren't enough hours in the day, so while I want these ventures to be successful, I'm praying for a good balance.

So Far, 2012 Sucks

2012-01-10T22:47:00.000-06:00

I have been off the grid a bit lately. That's mostly due to the following things happening the first week of the new year:

January 3rd - I found out my company will likely be closing its doors at the end of the month.

January 4th - DH found out his slimeball boss is going to let him go sometime between now and the end of March and replace him with his assistant.

There were some other crazy things that happened that I can't go into right now. I have a long summary post that I'll publish in a few weeks. For now, suffice it to say, that I was so stressed I got a tongue ulcer. It's as gross as it sounds, but I'll wait while you Google some pictures of it. In conjunction with that, I also had some canker sores, so I literally could not eat on the right side of my mouth for about four days. Which you would think would be awesome since it's the beginning of the year and everyone is dieting, but all I could eat were foods that weren't acidic, spicy or salty, which left soft, sweet stuff.

Anyway, after an embarrassing breakdown in front of my boss at my part-time job, and an a-ma-zing sermon at church on Sunday that pretty much summed up my spiritual life right now (in a desert in my relationship with God, being put through trials for Him to be able to refine me, knowing He will carry me through to victory), I'm on the other side of last week, and in much better spirits.

I hope all of you are having a much, much better start to the new year.

Baby Bullets: 6th Edition

2012-01-06T09:06:00.001-06:00

If you watch Storage Wars, there's a guy, Dave, who irritates the crap out of us. He's known for yelling "Yeeeeeep!" when he wants to bid. The girls have adopted that cry. It was funny at first. Now it's becoming irritating.
Baby R has started saying "The end!" when she wants something and won't give up on it. Like the other day, I told her to leave a toy at my parents' house, and she said, "No, I'm taking it home. The end!"
We went outside for a bit last week since it wasn't too cold and the sun was out. The girls wanted me to push them on the swings. Baby R asked for a hot dog. I asked "You mean an underdog?"
Unfortunately, S had her first tumble off a swing landing on her head. Scared me to death, but she was ok.
S was talking to me animatedly, then paused and said, "Hold on, Mom. Let me rephrase that." Oh, my little mini-me!
On our way to drop the girls off at my in-laws before work last week, we drove past a construction site that was all muddy. S said, "Ugh! I don't like mud. It gets all over my shoes." Baby R piped in, "Ew, mud! Blech! That's disgusting." Perfectly enunciated. At two-years-old. Love that kid!
In that same vein, I went upstairs to get my sweatshirt, and she didn't want me to. I asked her why not, and she said, "Because... because... it's impossible!" and crossed her pudgy little arms over her chest. I couldn't help but giggle.

My Favorite Thing About a New Year - At Work

2012-01-04T16:03:00.001-06:00

Source: simplemom.net via Mandy on Pinterest

I'm not much for New Year's Resolutions. They never stick. Check out my post from last year, and you'll see what I mean. I did accomplish a few of my goals though: I did find a new church home, I did set up a new email account, I did take the girls to St. Louis on the train, and I've been better about the desk in the kitchen (not sure DH would entirely agree, though!).

That said, I do love the idea of a fresh start. What's better than a brand new notebook with sharpened pencils that still have their original eraser in its pristine condition?

In that vein, my favorite thing about a new year at work is that I clean out my email. I always start out the year so well! You can tell, because everything through about March is filed. Then it happens. I'm out sick, or we start a huge project or something makes me slip. It starts to spiral out of control. Pretty soon, I give up. I file the easy stuff, but anything that requires thought/effort/memory gets left in the Inbox. Things slow down a bit, and I try to be retroactive, but I never quite catch up.

I left on 2011 with 776 messages in my Inbox and 2,406 in my Outbox. (Ouch! I'm so much worse about filing sent ones.) But once the calendar flips to January, I move everything into folders. Last year's are called "Inbox 2011" and "Outbox 2011."

I love having an empty Inbox and Outbox. So what if I just did the equivalent of hiding everything in the closet? I feel better now. And I will continue to feel good about it. Until March.

2011: The Year in Review

2011-12-30T07:00:00.006-06:00

A lot happened in 2011. It was the 10th anniversary of 9/11. And we finally found and killed Osama bin Laden. Natural disasters included a tornado in Joplin, MO and a tsunami in Japan. On a happier note, it was also a year for a royal wedding: Prince William and Kate Middleton. On a more personal note, this year our babies turned 4 and 2, S mastered a balance bike, we took our first train ride, Baby R grew in leaps and bounds hitting all her milestones and then some - speaking in compound sentences already. DH enjoyed playing softball, season tickets to the T-Bones (our local minor league baseball team) and winning the fantasy football league. I started creative writing again, opened my Etsy shop: Jaborandi Grove, got cut to part-time at work and discovered Pinterest. That said, here's a look back at some of my favorite posts of the year:

Storage Wars at Home
Lines
The Proposal
Saturday Morning
The One Where Our 3-Year-Old Threw Up the Devil Horns
Non-Bloggers Just Don't Understand
Slow Down and Breathe (featured on Studio30 Plus)
Things I Like About Me
Lamentations of a Working Mother
Ten Years Ago Today, America Was Attacked
Morning, Baby R
Sleigh? Santa Drives a Minivan

Oh, and today is my little sister's birthday, so quick shout out to her!

And I'm not really following their directions, but I'm linking up with Four Plus An Angel & My Front Porch Swing. :)

And I'm also linking up with Natalie's Best of 2011.

Blast From the Past:Peek-A-Boo

2011-12-24T10:28:00.002-06:00

Source: bing.com via Alicia on Pinterest

This post was originally done in January of this year, and is being republished for your viewing pleasure.

It's funny how people in the same family remember the same events differently. Or in my case, how my sister, J, just doesn't remember them at all. It's really hard to enjoying reminiscing when 90% of our conversations go something like this:

M: "Oh my gosh, J, you'll never guess who I ran into yesterday! So-and-so! Remember her? We both had a crush on you-know-who! Wasn't that hysterical? That time we took you to such-and-such a place was so much fun. We were so dorky! "

J: Pauses. "Um, no, I don't remember going there."

M: "Oh. Well, you remember her, though, right? The one with the really long blonde, curly hair and huge bangs?"

J: "That pretty much describes every one of the girls at school."

M: True. "Yeah, but so-and-so was tall and had that jean jacket?" Wait that doesn't really help. "She had a sister who was in cheerleading with you... what was her name...."

J: "You know I don't remember anything from our childhood."

J: Sigh. "I know."

So on Christmas Eve when we were filling the stockings and eating Santa's cookies, we started talking about one Christmas in particular that stuck with both of us. I was excited to relive those memories with her. It's rare for that kind of thing to happen, and I was shocked at the details she could conjure up. But I also understood why. That Christmas was different. It was the one year we peeked.

Our mom is from Manitoba, so we never took vacation per se; any traveling we did was to visit family. The trip to Mom's hometown is a 14-hour car ride, and we usually went in the summer to escape the sticky midwest heat, but occasionally made the trek twice a year and braved the bitter cold around Christmastime as well. Since dad was a mailman, he didn't get time off at Christmas, so when we started talking about this specific trip, he insisted we were mistaken. I imagine there were years we went before or after the holiday, but one year, my sister and I both agreed, we were definitely there on Christmas Eve.

We stayed at Grandma's house like we did with every visit until her stroke when I was in high school. The aunt and uncle who had cousins closest to our age were there, too. All nine of us kids slept in the basement. We, of course, stayed up as long as we could to try to catch Santa. I think I was 10 or so, and J would have been about 8, so we were of an age to be in on the secret that he wasn't real, but we played along knowing he wouldn't bring presents to those who thought he didn't exist. And we were sensitive to the presence of our younger cousins.

Inevitably, we all fell asleep. My sister remembered that one of our cousins set the alarm clock for 2 or 3am. Everyone got up and stealthily crept up the old stairs that had chips in the brown paint. We leaned against the worn railing and paneled walls to avoid the creaky spots. I remember it feeling like it took forever for all nine of us to get to the top. Whenever someone made a noise, we all froze and held our breath, afraid we'd get caught.

Finally, our anticipation having reached a fervor, we arrived at the kitchen and silently made our way across the linoleum floor, past the counter laden with Grandma's delicious baked goods and the curio containing tchotchkes. Our feet found the soft carpet of the living room that had yet to obtain updated furniture so it was like a time warp to the late '60's, early 70's. There were so many of us that the presents almost filled the room. Though it was dark, there was reflection from the snow to send enough moonlight through the big front window that we could see which presents belonged to each of us.

Oddly enough, though I'm the one with the better memory in general, I don't remember what presents we got that year. I think our cousins got Cabbage Patch kids, but maybe that was the year we got them. (That would have made it 1984 since '83 was the year of the craze, and our parents refused to succumb to the insanity.) Anyway, the specifics of that part of the night are lost on me. I had thought we just checked the stockings and big, unwrapped presents. J, though, distinctly remembers carefully unwrapping her gifts, a locket in particular.

We were all giddy with the adrenaline of doing something forbidden and the joy of discovering which of our wishes had come true. Shushing each other and prodding everyone to finish re-wrapping gifts, we snuck back to the basement. It was tough to settle down and get back to sleep, but we eventually did.

Christmas morning we got up and joined our parents. I don't know how our cousins felt, but J and I were incredibly disappointed. It was such a let down to already know what we'd gotten. We all put on a fake smile and tried to be excited, but J remembers being unable to convince our parents that she was as thrilled with the locket as she should have been and giving us away. I don't think we were in trouble really, but even if we had been punished, it wouldn't have mattered. That disappointment was the best instrument in teaching us not to peek. We never did it again.

Merry Christmas, 2011!!

Baby Bullets: 5th Edition

2011-12-22T07:05:00.000-06:00

S told Auntie E that she wanted to play with her but she wasn't available then, and they would need to reschedule.
S was "reading" her Action Bible to Baby R.
The girls are making gifts for their aunts and uncles for Christmas, and when S asked why there were 8 of them, I told her who each one was for. And then she said, "And we need one for Judy." Judy was her daycare provider from two years ago who we keep in touch with. "And one for Miss Joy." Our most recent provider who we had to leave in September when my job situation got messy. Such a sweetheart!
S was talking about the pictures hanging up in her room and she said, "I certainly want to keep that one."
Baby R - how old are you? I four! No sissy is four. You're two. Oh! How old are you? I four!
We went to Lowe's for the Build and Grow clinic and were insane enough to take two friends of the girls with us. Yes that's 2 adults, 2 four-year-olds and 2 two-year olds. It actually went really well. Mostly because S did her entire project by herself! She read the picture directions, put all the pieces together correctly, hammered all the nails in. I kept telling her I'd help her, but she wanted to do it herself. And she did. I was really impressed.
I got Harry & David cocoas at my Bunko gift exchange, and S wanted to have some. I told her maybe for a special occasion. A few days later she mentioned she could have some of the cocoa on our next trip to St. Louis to visit Aunt J and Uncle K. Perplexed, I said it might be easier to make it at home. She said, "But you said I could have it on a special vacation!"
Lately when Baby R has been "talking" on her phone, she's been calling Aunt D. But it's not just that she calls her, it's that she "has to" call her. It's very important.

Yep, Still Alive... Barely

2011-12-21T09:57:00.000-06:00

So sorry for the absence. It started out with me just being a slacker. But it ended up that all of us girls got the stomach flu. :( Thankfully I had the worst of it, and luckily we are all better now before Christmas. I have some cute stories to share - Elf hiding places, S misunderstanding me because I used an unfamiliar word, etc. - so I hope to post a couple of times before Christmas, but due to being under the weather, I'm WAY behind on everything. So much to do, so little time. Will catch up soon!

Memories Captured

2011-12-05T10:42:00.000-06:00

I find that the best photos of the girls occur when the set is the least favorable. As in this image of them sitting on the desk with messy cubbies behind them. If I were to have put them in front of a blank wall or a backdrop of some sort, I could have taken 100 shots and not one would have them both looking at the camera with their eyes open and smiling (though Baby R was at the end of hers here). But that's why it works well for the memories captured project because the words cover up a fair amount of the junk (and the Elf in the background which is why they were on the desk to begin with). Please link up with Galit and Alison and check out everyone's pics!

Dear Santa

2011-12-05T10:00:00.001-06:00

S's list for Santa this year, verbatim:

- Another Memory game [we have 2 already] that's easy-peasy for Baby R

- Another elf because I love elves

- Books we don't have to take back to the library [which makes us sound nearly barren of books, yet we easily have over 100 between her bookshelf, Baby R's bookshelf and the shelf in the playroom]

- My own, OWN TV [you are your father's child]

- A TV for Baby R's room [so, sooo your father's child]

- A special library book light for Mommy that Mommy doesn't have to take back [I'm a bit perplexed by this one, as I have a book light that I've never had to return...]

Then you signed your name, and it was really well done. So you signed it again. Then I asked if you wanted to write your last name since you worked on that at school last week. So you did. But now when I look at it, all I can think of is Rosanne Rosanne-a-danna from SNL because of the repetition of your first name.

My sweet girl. You are so precious. You may have asked for your own TV in your room, but half the things on your list are things for others. I love you.

Storage Wars at Home

2011-12-04T15:07:00.001-06:00

Source: thehouseofsmiths.com via April on Pinterest

I heard the water turn off, then the shower door click open in the master bath upstairs.

"What did you do with the clothes you were folding last night?"he yelled.

"I put them away," I called back, mischievously, from the living room couch where I was playing with the girls.

"Where?" he groused.

"Somewhere I thought would be more convenient for me," I smiled.

I went to the kitchen cupboard to the right of the sink and picked up a pair of Fruit of the Looms that lay between the pint glasses. The pint glasses that until two weeks ago - a day or two before Thanksgiving, mind you - had been in the cupboard to the left of the sink. At that time, plates had been in this cupboard. Where they belonged. Where they made sense. Until he switched them because the plate cupboard was "too crowded."

On the stairs to our bedroom, I thought, "He thinks he can mess with me," and almost laughed.

He was in the closet putting on a shirt, and trying to look mad at me but failing. If the girls weren't wide awake downstairs, I might have attacked his half-naked body right there. Another time.

When I handed the underwear to him, he asked, "So where did you put them?"

"Oh, downstairs somewhere," I teased. "Think of them as your own little Elf on the Shelf."

Thanksgiving

2011-11-28T00:23:00.000-06:00

Design from Jaborandi Grove

Wednesday

I've posted about my love of Thanksgiving before. This year was wonderful, too, and I'm continually amazed at the blessings in our lives. Unfortunately, my SIL's BFF's mom passed away suddenly this week. My SIL had not planned to come home for the holiday until she found out the funeral was yesterday. Wednesday night, S went with my FIL to pick up Auntie E from the airport. I think E was glad as her presence lightened the mood. They ended up having a conversation about what DH wears to bed. (Not sure how that subject came up. Not sure I want to know.) Anyway, here's the general idea:

S: Daddy sleeps nakeypants.
Auntie E: What do you mean? Does he where a shirt?
S: No.
Auntie E: Does he wear shorts?
S: No, just panties.

DH about died, and I cracked up when we heard about it. Can't blame S for not knowing that shorts are boxers or briefs, but clearly we need to have a conversation that explains the nuances of underwear terms.

Thursday

I always enjoy going to DH's family's Thanksgiving. It's his dad's side of the family, and about 30 of the 50 or so relatives were able to be there. Now that the cousins are having kids, there are little ones around to play with. S didn't want to leave when it was time to go because she was having too much fun. Love that!

The best part was when we said Grace before dinner. Everyone held hands in a huge circle that wound through the kitchen and dining room. I was holding Baby R so put her little hand in her teenage cousin's. DH's aunt began to say the blessing, and Baby R whispered "God is great, God is good, mumble mumble mumble food, Amen. God is great, God is good..." So sweet!

That night, Auntie E came over and chatted. We drank way too much wine and hung out with the neighbors for awhile by their fire pit. The weather was absolutely beautiful. I stumbled to bed around 2am. Oy...

Friday

In the morning, as expected, I was regretting my bedtime as well as the bottle and a half of vino I'd consumed. Small children have no ability to sleep in. Plus I needed to start baking since my family was coming over for Thanksgiving Round 2.

I realized I was missing an ingredient for the pumpkin pie, so I took the girls to the store for the fastest yet longest trip in my life. We walked in, I put them in the cart, and literally in front of me was the evaporated milk I needed. It was all I had come for, but decided to swing by the in-store Starbucks as I was in desperate need of some caffeine. While in line, the girls whined for apple juice which we had at home, and since we were leaving right after getting my coffee, I told them no.

And it began.

Huge tantrums by both of them. I finally got S calmed down, but then when it was time to get out of the cart, Baby R threw herself on the ground, kicking and screaming. I wasn't angry or embarrassed. I simply didn't have the energy to care.

I started walking toward the door and tossed a nonchalant, "Bye-bye!" her way. If it had been S, she would have come running. But Baby R didn't buy it. I stood by the automatic door, the heater blowing to push the cold air back outside, and looked at her for a minute. A cashier came over and asked if she was all right. I said, "She's fine. She's two. She's having a tantrum." I wanted to let her work it out, but I knew the employees didn't need to deal with it, so I snatched Baby R up and headed out.

For those of you who've never tried it, I don't recommend walking through a parking lot holding a hot cup of coffee, a grocery bag, a purse, the hand of your 4YO and a thrashing toddler. I'm just thankful none of the coffee spilled on the girls.

Thank goodness the Elf on the Shelf is back; S didn't remember her at first, but now that we've re-read the book and reiterated the correlation between good behavior and Santa bringing presents, she's back on board. Hopefully we can avoid a repeat of Friday morning.

Saturday

Nothing too exciting. My sister and BIL had spent the night with us Friday, so we had breakfast and then left for STL. It would have been nice if they could have stayed longer, but they had had a rough week. Their cat was hit by a car, my sis had a terrible week at work in NYC and was stuck on the runway of her return flight for a couple of hours, and she had to go back to NYC today. I don't blame them for wanting to get home and relax for a little bit.

DH and I finished cleaning up the house. I went in to my PT job for a couple of hours to make up being gone for the holiday. I did a little bit of work for Jaborandi Grove as it was the biggest shopping weekend of the year with Black Friday and Small Business Saturday as well as Cyber Monday coming up. It was hard to coordinate stuff for Etsy with the family stuff, but I'm still a small enough shop that it didn't matter much.

Sunday

Today we missed church as we had brunch with my in-laws for one last hurrah with Auntie E before she heads back to Cali tomorrow. We also drew names for Christmas presents. Tonight we put up the Christmas tree and some of the decorations. We all napped this afternoon so we were a bit late getting around to it. We'll have to finish up tomorrow.

It's fun to watch S start to remember things and see Baby R really take it in now that she's bigger. Though S is getting tricky with her questions about Santa already. Not sure how well I will do answering them.

While I did the dishes after supper, S was "talking" to Auntie E on the phone. She said she was sorry we hadn't invited her over to eat, but it was too late now. She chatted a few more minutes and then told me after she hung up that C (Auntie E's boyfriend) didn't want her to come back to Cali tomorrow, so she was going to stay with us tomorrow night and go back Tuesday. So funny!

Sleigh? Santa Rides in a Minivan

2011-11-21T11:07:00.001-06:00

Source: automobiles.honda.com via Michele on Pinterest

Saturday DH took the girls to have breakfast at Chick-Fil-A with Santa. S was super excited. She wanted to know if she could see his sleigh. I had to be quick on my feet.

"Well, honey, it's probably too big to park at Chick-Fil-A. Their parking lot is pretty small."

"Oh," she said, disappointed. "How will he get there?"

"Maybe he'll park somewhere nearby and walk over?"

"Yeah, or someone can give him a ride."

"Sure," I said, thinking I'd dodged that bullet.

But then her face lit up. "He could park here and ride with us!"
Crap.

"Well, honey, that is so sweet, but he probably already has a ride for today. But you could ask him when you see him if we can give him a ride next year."

"Ok!"

Please let that elephantine memory of hers fail on this so next year we don't have to invent a reason why he didn't accept our invitation...

This is linked to a monthly meme with Not Just Another Jen. November's word of the month is "Give". Though not exactly used in the sense I think she was looking for, it does appear here, and it's a cute story. :)

Pinterest Project #1

2011-11-14T07:00:00.001-06:00

This title is a bit of a misnomer as I talked about doing some Pinterest-inspired projects on my Etsy blog, Jaborandi Grove. But this is the first one I've done here.

Baby R wanted a Winnie-the-Pooh birthday party, and when I saw this pin for Tigger Tails, I thought they would be a cute, feasible (ie, I could actually do it) alternative to decorating a cake (which is not my forte).

Source: disneyfoodblog.com via Jaborandi on Pinterest

If you actually click on the link in the pin, it takes you to a site that talks about the best food at Disney, and it turns out these are caramel-coated large marshmallows dipped in orange-colored chocolate. I decided to make mini-cupcakes, line them up and frost them together. I think they turned out pretty cute!

I've decided that I've now completed enough pins to create a new board called "I Did It." It's pretty fun to see it grow...

This post is linked to several places:

Miss Elaine-eous Monday

Dutch Being Me's 52 Weeks of Pinterest

Happy 2nd Birthday, Baby R

2011-11-13T23:13:00.000-06:00

My beautiful girl. You are so amazing. You insist on keeping up with big sister, of course, like most younger siblings. But unlike most babies of the family, you don't let her talk for you. You talk more than she does at times. I think to show you can do just as much.

You like to go for the reaction - pretending to be a kitty cat, pretending to be asleep when it's time for me to get you out of the car, screeching an earsplitting cry when you are unhappy, hiding under Blankie Boo for as long as it takes for someone to ask where you are. Most of the time it makes me laugh. Reminds me of your Aunt J.

And you are so very sweet. You say Grace at every meal - often times more than once. You say, "Sorry, Sissy," when S is the one who is supposed to be apologizing. You said your baby had a wet diaper and started to take yours off to use for her. You offer to help pick up your toys. (I'm sure that won't last, but I'm enjoying it for now!) As a general rule, you are very agreeable. You don't even mind going to bed (though lately, the stalling has kicked into high gear).

There are definitely Terrible Two moments when you throw a tantrum for an inexplicable reason and can't be talked into calming down. No matter what we say, you answer negatively: Do you want to stay? No! Do you want to go? No! The fit you threw outside on Halloween that the neighbors several doors down heard - inside - was a doozie. But it turned out you were getting sick. And you still managed to last through the whole trick-or-treating excursion, saying "Trick-or-Treat!" and "Thank you!" at every door, and carrying your green, monster bucket which was so heavy it was dragging by the end of the night. I offered to carry it for you several times, but your teeny voice piped up, "No, I got it, Mama!'

Sometimes I'm better at being patient with you because I've been there before. Some days I am less patient because I'm being pulled by your sister, too. It's difficult to treat you both equally, but I'm trying. I love you both so very much. I'm enjoying having a crazy schedule right now, because I get Tuesday and Thursday mornings to spend one-on-one time with you. It's been such a rare opportunity until now, and often we spend it running errands, but it's fun to listen to you sing along with Veggie Tales and Laurie Berkner.

I love you, my sweetheart. I wish you happiness and joy in the coming year. Happy birthday.

Baby Bullets: 4th Edition

2011-11-09T11:59:00.000-06:00

Update on Baby R.

Counting some jelly beans: 1, 2, 3, 2, 1
She was "reading" her Pooh & Eeyore book and said, "Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday" followed by some more counting, "2, 3, 7, 9"
That was about a month ago. Now she can count to five pretty consistently.
She also sings her alphabet, though she sometimes misses T, U, V.
She knows her colors.
And my favorite? She can put on her Dora Velcro shoes all by herself.
Baby R's new favorite is crawling around and meowing like a cat, and then saying, "Pet me! Pet me!" The funniest part is that she usually starts panting like a dog at some point during her cat act.

Update on S.

When DH or I leave the house, she says, "Be careful out there!" I feel like I'm leaving the precinct with the Captain ending roll call on "Hill Street Blues."
Now when I go to my part-time job, she says, "Don't get dirty! Don't get stinky! Have a great day!" I think it came from when I was playing volleyball this summer and she'd say, "Don't get any sand on you!"
She knows our home phone number. Yay!

Stephen King's "On Writing"

2011-11-07T09:15:00.002-06:00

On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft by Stephen King by BookRags

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This book was amazing! I have never read anything by Stephen King because I don't like scary/sci fi stories. But I do love these movies based on his work: Stand by Me, Shawshank Redemption, The Green Mile, The Stand and even Misery. After having read this one, I'm going to go back and read these stories. And maybe branch out into some of the scarier ones.

The first half of the book is memoir. It gives a brief glimpse into the events in his life that affected his writing. The next third is his advice about how to be a better writer. He's frank, informative, entertaining - and incredibly helpful. I checked this book out from the library for a book club, but will be purchasing it to reference.

The last bit was an updated biography - it was published around 2000 and he had been hit by a car while in the middle of writing it. At the end he included an update on how he was.

I had never heard of this until my Write On Edge group suggested it and I'm so glad!

View all my reviews

Cross-Promo Post

2011-10-31T11:51:00.001-05:00

I'm linking up to Miss Elaine-ous Monday with this post that links to other posts in a crazed attempt to do more than I can possibly do right now.

:)

Please check out my Etsy blog, Jaborandi Grove, and today's post about projects that were completed that were inspired by Pinterest.

There are actually two posts about that - I've linked both to Simple Organic's From Pinterest to Real Life post.

I also wanted to give a shout-out to Gigi who has a link up going on right now for Fall Food Recipes. It ends today, though, so get on it!

Mystery Guest

2011-10-25T07:00:00.011-05:00

When the clown first entered our annual Halloween party, we each assumed someone else knew who it was.

"Creepy! Nice job!"

"Wow! Where'd you find that orange jumpsuit?"

He (I assumed it was a man as he stood about six-feet-tall) slowly wove through the crowd, his steps deliberate, giving each person a penetrating look with his blue eyes that had a slightly bloodshot appearance due to the white face makeup used in conjunction with the mask. It looked very professional. Not surprising since our costume party had raised the stakes every year for quality and originality. One year a guy sewed his own Sam-I-Am costume.

But this was different. It wasn't incredibly original - the clown mask was standard "It" variety; the prison jumpsuit was shapeless; the black gloves could have been OJ's Isotoners. It wasn't the costume. It was the character who embodied the costume.

The friendly chatter gradually slowed as party guests began whispering amongst themselves trying to figure out who this stranger was. We searched his eyes for something familiar. We joked that maybe he really was a mass murderer. But under the lighthearted banter lay tendrils of fear that threatened to blossom into panic with the slightest encouragement.

Whispers of conspiracy theories rose and fell until we exhausted the possibilities.

"Ok, I give up. Who are you?"

Silence.

"Do you work at Sprint?"

Head shake.

"Did you go to KState?"

Nod.

We continued the 20 Questions format, but were still stumped. A head count had been done for those we were expecting, and no one was missing. The mood shifted again.

"Seriously, man, this if freaking me out. Who are you?"

Not a word.

My friend, Christy, and I continued to discuss possibilities off to the side, unready to confront the stranger. After reinspecting him, she gasped. "Wait! It's not a guy. It's a girl!"

"What?" I said, skeptically.

"Look at her shoes."

She was right. They were definitely women's boots. It wasn't obvious at first because the chunky 2-inch heels were mostly covered by the pant legs.

We ticked off the list of girls who hadn't arrived yet. None of them were tall enough, though, even with those boots. The only one we could think of who would have fit the body type was Brenda, but she was out of town and wasn't due back until the following day. But it had to be her.

"Brenda, is that you?" Christy asked.

Finally, the clown laughed. "Yes! I thought you'd never guess."

This was written in response to NotJustAnotherJen's Word of the Month: Fear, and the Write on Edge Remembe(RED) prompt: With Halloween approaching, many of us are revisiting fond memories of trick-or-treating, favorite candy, and parties. For Tuesday, reach back to a costume that made an impression. Was it yours? A friend’s? Maybe it was a costume you never got to wear. Show it to us with your words, draw us into the emotions it evoked at the time. Word limit is 400.

World Premier of "Tom Sawyer" Ballet

2011-10-24T07:00:00.004-05:00

The "Tom Sawyer" ballet world premier at the new Kauffman Center was fantastic! Magnificent sets, lights, costumes - it was very professional. They seem to have stepped it up a notch from when it was at the Lyric Opera House.

The opening scene with whitewashing the fence was a bit long, but other than that I LOVED the first act. It was highly entertaining. The second act I would have eliminated except for the firefly dance and combined it with the third act. And the courtroom scene in the third act was not very good. I spent a good part of the time trying to remember the plot (I think I was mixing up "The Adventures of Tom Sawyer" and "Adventures of Huckleberry Finn"). I wish the whole thing would have been as good as the first act, but overall it was still excellent.

And the Kauffman Center is gorgeous! It reminds me of the Sydney Opera House on the outside, the Guggenheim on the inside and the Sprint Center with the angled windows.

The terrace outside Balcony 7 where our seats were.

Looking down from the terrace.

In the auditorium, I love the purple curtain and the red seats. I could do without the orange seats and the weird multi-colored panels on the walls behind the blind-like elements, but it didn't bother me that much when it was full of people. We have seats in the top balcony, but they didn't feel really far away - just really high. But the view was still fantastic.

The view from our seats.

Oh, and they don't sell snacks - only beverages. It wasn't a big deal Sunday since we went in the afternoon, but we used to go on Thursday night, and we would go to dinner first, then not get dessert, so we could split something during intermission at the Lyric. I understand why they would want to limit that kind of thing, though, since it's so clean and beautiful now. We're going to have to be on the ball from now on; late arrivals will not be seated until intermission. However, they do have a screen at the door so you can at least see it on TV. If you get a chance, I highly recommend you visit the Center and catch a performance by the Kansas City Ballet.

"A Better World"

2011-10-22T21:28:00.000-05:00

I was contacted a few weeks ago to check out a new Facebook game called "A Better World." It's a do-good game by the company ToonUps. It's set up similarly to other games in that there's a town and you can invite people to play with you. The driving force behind this one, though, is to promote positive activity and emotions.

Each day you log in, you are given a Daily Missions list. You earn "do-good gold" for completing the items on the list. There are different areas of the World: My House, Town, Countryside, Village.

One of the stopping points is the Sanctuary of Hope. Here you can type out your hopes and dreams to share with the rest of the World. Others can light candles to show support for you.

Sanctuary of Hope

Another section is the Gratitude Grotto. There you can type things you are thankful for.

Gratitude Grotto

There's also an arcade area where you can play fun games like variations of hangman, whack-a-mole, bejeweled and more.

In general, I like the concept of the game. It's much less violent than Mafia Wars, for example. And it's definitely a positive atmosphere. The only thing that bothers me is that ultimately you are still earning "money" to buy clothes, furnishings for your house, etc. It seems more self-centered than I had hoped. It would be nice if what you earned was used for charity or something. But compared to other games on Facebook, it's definitely more uplifting. It's a game I would be comfortable with my kids playing.

I'm not a big gamer, but I do like the Arcade section since it's a throwback to the old school games I like. Check it out and let me know what you think! Play "A Better World" at http://www.facebook.com/ABetterWorld

Disclosure: I was given the opportunity to share my thoughts and opinions on A Better World. ToonUps provided a $50 donation to Cedar Ridge Christian Church as a thank you for my participation. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

Fear

2011-10-21T14:04:00.002-05:00

I'm FINALLY participating! It's been way too long. I really don't have time this week, either, but it's so simple, I just HAD to do it. This week's prompt was "to compose a text–160 characters–that would either elicit or express fear." So here goes:

The last image to flash in front of her eyes before the blade severed her brain stem was her murderer reaching for her daughter.

• • • • • •

Guest Post: An Easy Recipe for Parents and Children

2011-10-21T07:00:00.019-05:00

A few weeks ago, Dan Gilbert, the Communications Coordinator for Primrose Schools®, contacted me about doing a guest post relating to early childhood education. He sent me the following article about teaching kids how to help in the kitchen, and then I went to the site to check out the school, and I realized, this is the preschool I had fallen in love with when looking for one to place our oldest in! I love the Balanced Learning approach and the Helping Hands community service initiative. Since I'm blessed with a best friend who runs a preschool less than a mile from our home at a ridiculously affordable price, I couldn't bring myself to enroll her at Primrose, but under different circumstances, I definitely would have.

Please read the following article and click on the link to the school site for more information. There are 200 schools in the country, so there may be one near you.

• • • • • • • • • •

An Easy Recipe for Parents and Children
by Dan Gilbert

The kitchen can be a magical yet dangerous place for young children with the delectable aromas emanating from it. However, don’t let the potential hazards scare you from having your children help out when it comes to preparing a delicious meal or a scrumptious dessert together. Spending time in the kitchen is a great way for families to connect and spend quality time with each other.

The kitchen has always been a popular room in the house to come together as a family, says Dr. Mary Zurn, vice president of the highly accredited education for preschool students at Primrose Schools. It’s a place where families can communicate about the day’s events. It’s also a place where children can take on their share of responsibility by learning daily tasks to help out.

Teaching children about nutrition can be a daunting task. By incorporating healthy foods into recipes you make together you will be able to teach your child healthy substitutes in a discrete way. The whole cooking experience shouldn’t be about nutrition, but it is a great way to begin teaching children healthy eating habits.

By following these simple tips, parents can keep the kitchen a safe yet fun environment for children:

1. Assign Simple Tasks: Children like to help out, so choose simple tasks they can do solely, but with your supervision. Assign simple jobs like rolling out dough, mixing batter, or decorating cookies. Even young children can get involved, so give them pots and a wooden spoon so they can pretend to cook and mix together ingredients. This gives them a sense of responsibility in the kitchen, yet you will know they are safe and out of harm’s way.

2. Establish a List of Rules: Children need the guidance and supervision of adults when in the kitchen, so put together a list of rules to follow. Teach them the importance of cleanliness by washing hands before touching food and the reasoning behind this. Make sure your children know what utensils are safe to touch and which ones are dangerous. To ensure that your child doesn’t accidentally get burned or hurt, take an inventory of the kitchen while working together making sure pot handles are turned inward and knives are out of reach.

3. Learn the Basics Step by Step: Children can master essential skills like counting out bread slices or by helping follow a recipe. As they accomplish the easy tasks, give them chores that are more advanced. Teach older children the basics of learning to use a knife by having them start out with items that are soft like cheese or soft bread and can be done with a dull spreader. When they are ready to move on to a bigger challenge, give them a plastic knife where they can practice slicing vegetables and fruit.

4. Make it a Fun Experience: Cooking with your children can be a messy and chaotic experience; so don’t stress the spills and mistakes. If eggs end up on the floor instead of in the bowl or the recipe doesn’t turn out quite right, offer your child guidance and let them try again. Teach your child the responsibility of cleaning up, while still having fun together.

When the meal is finished, make sure to tell them what an outstanding job they did. Let them be the first to sample a taste of what you made together and ask them what they would like to make together next time. Maybe instead of a dessert you can try making an appetizer?

• • • • • • • • •

Nightmares and Reality

2011-10-19T14:51:00.001-05:00

For those of you who haven't heard, Baby Lisa has been missing for two weeks now. Now that I have children of my own, I can't watch news stories about these things anymore, so my source of information has mostly been people recounting a tiny bit of what's going on here and there. In other words, I don't know much.

What I do know is that she is gone. Regardless of how or why or who took her, the point is she's gone. I have insane fears about something happening to our girls. I think all parents do to a certain extent. With the recent abduction of Baby Lisa, it's been on my mind more than usual. Coupled with the fact that I was re-reading David Baldacci's Hour Game and had serial killers on my mind, I've been having crazy nightmares. I don't think it helped that I was sick with a fever the last three days.

It's a fine line to walk in today's world between being safely cautious and paranoid. It's hard enough to negotiate that field as a single woman. But adding kids to the equation makes it almost impossible. I try to remember not to worry, and pray for peace and protection, but sometimes my mind works itself into a frenzy.

I think it's interesting to see how people react to situations, too. I know what I think I would do when you ask me how I would respond to a carjacker or mugger or kidnapper. But were any of those things to happen in real life, would my reaction be the same? I hope I never get to find out.

Two of my friends have had terrible experiences in which they didn't respond the way they thought they would. One was leaving a concert late at night and was carjacked by a 14-year-old who put a gun in her face. Instead of giving him the car, she told him she'd take him where he wanted to go but he wasn't getting her car. I could NOT believe she did that. She couldn't either. She said she thought it was because he was just a little kid and she wasn't intimidated by him.

Another was mugged in the parking lot of a restaurant in broad daylight. She had stopped there with her 7 and 5 year old kids on their drive from Kansas to Oklahoma. A couple of guys tried to steal her purse. She held onto it for dear life, kicking and cursing as they dragged her along the pavement. They finally gave up and left her and the kids unharmed, but shaken. She was operating on Mama Bear instinct though; her fear was if they got her whole purse, they would know their names and address and could come find them. I don't know that I would have had the presence of mind to think of that in the moment.

What about you? Have you ever experienced a nightmare that became a reality? If so, how did you react?

This is linked to a monthly meme with Not Just Another Jen. October's word of the month is "Fear".

I have Klout!

2011-10-13T23:32:00.000-05:00

I got my first Klout perk in the mail - a sample of Axe hair gel. DH is a pomade fan, but I thought he might like to try it out, so I was excited when it arrived. Unfortunately, Baby R wanted to try it out first.

"I squirt it, Mama!"she claimed, proudly.

"Uh-huh, that's ni– Wait, what? What did you squirt, honey?"

"I squirt it, Mama!"

"Where did you squirt it," I tried.

"On the table." She pointed to the playroom table.

I walked in and saw it smeared over a quarter of the tabletop. Oh boy.

After I cleaned up the outside of the gel container, the top of the table, and Baby R's hands, I hid the gel. This weekend I'll let DH know where so he can test it out and I'll let you know what he thinks...

Wordless Wednesday: Autumn

2011-10-12T07:00:00.013-05:00

Some pictures of the trees on the way home from church Sunday. Another gorgeous 80-degree day. We spent most of it outside.

And now for a shameless plug in conjunction with the season, stop by my Etsy shop, Jaborandi Grove, and pick up the Autumn Seasonal Set before it gets cold and snowy.

Of course, then you can get the Winter Seasonal Set, but let's not get ahead of ourselves...

The Calendar Says It's October, But...

2011-10-09T23:08:00.000-05:00

It's hard to believe when we've had temps in the 80s for the last week. Don't get me wrong; I'm enjoying our Indian Summer. It made our trip to the pumpkin patch yesterday very comfortable. Though, it was really dusty as it hasn't rained in three weeks. But I'm ready for slightly cooler weather, just enough for jeans and a light jacket, a little nip in the air so the fire pit sounds inviting instead of just hot.

My sister was in town over the weekend, so we were lucky to have her and my mom join us on our quest for the best pumpkins. Here are some pics of our fun!

Morning, Baby R

2011-09-27T21:22:00.000-05:00

You are asleep with your knees tucked under your chest and your bum up in the air. The right side of your hair is sticking out wildly; a knot has formed on the back. I stealthily creep to your closet to get a set of clothes and shoes, then gently quiet the babbling brook emanating from the machine on your changing table. You become aware of my presence and pop your head up. A smile brightens your sleepy face.

"Good morning, pumpkin," I whisper, crossing to your crib. You stumble to your feet, tripping over White Blankie, Pink Blankie (previously known as "Two Blankie"), and the latest addition, Checked Blankie, as well as your musical, glowing Seahorse and Pillow Pet, Duckie. It's a wonder there's room for you to sleep in there.

A smile blossoms on your petal-soft lips. "Time go, Mama?" your teeny voice queries.

"Yep!"

You reach for me, and I lift you to my chest. You bury your head in my neck, and I gently squeeze you and breathe in your scent - no longer a baby, not quite a little girl. You are getting too heavy to lift out of there, but you haven't quite made the transition to your Big Girl Bed. Nap time, occasionally, but only once or twice for Night Night.

"Sissy?"

"Sissy is already downstairs. We've got to take her to preschool."

Your precious mouth makes a perfect "o" shape and you suck in air with a genuine look of surprise, even though we do this every Tuesday and Thursday. "Oh! Sissy go school!"

I quickly change your diaper, and you insist on closing the diaper cream and putting it in your drawer. As I place your favorite Elmo shirt on your head, you challenge me, "I do, Mama! I do!" Together, we finish getting you dressed and head down to the kitchen. Some days you want me to carry you, and some you must walk down on your own, holding my hand and the spindles of the railing for support.

Your eyes light up at the sight of S. "Sissy!"

S is glad to see you, too, most mornings. "Hi, Baby R!"

I set you in your booster seat and you ask for "email" which is oatmeal to the rest of us. You're getting better at using your spoon successfully, but you love to tip the bowl and drink the milk. Which you don't always wait to do until the end. Inevitably there's oatmeal in your hair. It adds a lovely dimension to your bedhead.

You could not be more beautiful.

Blessed

2011-09-23T09:41:00.000-05:00

This has been a crazy week. I had a phone interview Monday, and then they asked me to come in for an in-person interview on Thursday. The position was not what I had originally built my resume for, and I needed a portfolio for it, so I spent a frantic Wednesday putting one together. I came into my office that night to print off some elements for it, and the printer was literally in pieces on the floor. Thank goodness the FedEx/Kinko's is 24 hours - I was there at midnight. I think the interview went pretty well. We'll see what happens. Trying to give it over to God and not worry about it!

I am so thankful to be the featured blogger on Studio 30 Plus this week; I wish I could have offered up a great new post already. Hopefully this weekend. As I mentioned before, please stop by my "5 W's and an H" tab for some of my favorite posts.

Another amazing happening this week is that This Blogger Makes Fun of Stuff gave my Etsy shop, Jaborandi Grove, a rave review and is hosting a giveaway for a letter. And what's even better is that if you don't win the giveaway, you can get a special discount for ordering with the coupon code they listed on the review. So stop by!

Featured Blogger on Studio30Plus!

2011-09-18T11:12:00.000-05:00

Hey! I'm excited to let you all know that I'm the featured blogger at Studio30Plus this week! Please click on my "5W's and an H" tab to see a list of some of my favorite posts. I'm also going to have one this week about how amazing the online community is, so please stop by later.

Writing, I Miss You

2011-09-15T10:13:00.001-05:00

I realize I took a break from writing after college for about a decade, so this hiatus is nothing in comparison, but now that I've been away from it for a couple of weeks, I'm having pangs of desperation I didn't experience before. Maybe because I didn't realize how important it was to me back then. Suffice it to say, I have a LOT of things floating around in my noggin that I want to share. Hopefully my crazy schedule of three jobs will start to become a routine soon and I can find a time to fit it in. One of the first posts I want to write is about the enormous support system that can be found in the blogosphere/twitterverse. I get choked up thinking about it. For now, it will remain in my heart. Hope to write some this weekend. We'll see.

Guest Post Product Review: Diaper Cream

2011-09-12T08:46:00.000-05:00

Hey guys! I'm hanging out at This Blogger Makes Fun of Stuff today. I reviewed a diaper cream, so stop by to see what I said!

10 Years Ago Today, America Was Attacked

2011-09-11T07:00:00.010-05:00

Today is the 10th anniversary of the September 11th attack on the United States. As people reflect on where they were that day, I thought I would copy my diary entry here. I was surprised at how long it was, and how many details I had forgotten. I tried to minimize annotations to keep it as much like the original entry as possible.

9/11/01
Today has been the most devastating day in the country in my lifetime.

I woke up to my radio alarm clock around 7:45am. I intended to go in early to work but I was tired so I lay there listening to the morning show poll people about which of them needed therapy the most. After a few minutes, they said they had just received news that there had been an explosion in one of the World Trade Center Twin Towers in New York City. At that point it was uncertain if a plane had been the cause. I listened for a few more minutes, and then they said that a plane had crashed into the other Twin Tower for certain.

I jumped up and quickly got ready for work and went downstairs and turned on the television. There was footage of the first building on fire and while everyone was watching that, a plane could be seen flying directly into the second tower, completely demolishing a large chunk of the 150ish story building. With the first one, it was possibly a fluke, but the second was obviously deliberate. It was a beautiful, sunny, clear-skied morning. The worst part was that they were both commercial airliners. My stomach turned and I couldn't eat breakfast.

I went into the office and everyone was crowded around a TV in L's (the HR person) outer office, watching the horrific footage being replayed, over and over again. I went back to my desk to try to start working and turned the radio on. All the stations were feeding from their TV affiliates. I heard that a plane had also crashed into the Pentagon and my heart jumped. I went back to the office to see the TV. It had very poor reception and was difficult to make out but you could see the billows of smoke from one side of the Pentagon. Teary-eyed, I returned to my desk to try to focus on something else, but of course that was nearly impossible. We soon found out that the planes had been passenger flights from Boston and Washington, DC that had been hijacked. Later we leraned that the terrorists had stabbed several of the staff on board before turning their kamikaze missions on to their targets. Many people made cell phone calls to loved ones from the planes. Things had sort of settled down by afternoon when we learned of another plane crash outside of Pittsburg which apparently missed its target, and another plane that had been destined for Camp David but was apparently shot down. President Bush had been in Florida and given a brief statement in the morning soon after the initial attacks and then boarded Air Force One to return to DC via an undisclosed route that wound up including Shreveport, LA and Omaha, NB.

Then the second twin tower that had been hit collapsed. Not long after it, the first one did as well.

I was supposed to have had lunch with [former co-workers] today but we cancelled due to the tragedy. [One of them] said that it looked like a banana peeling down the sides as the building disintegrated. It wasn't until later tonight that I saw the footage and had to agree.

At one point there was supposedly a car bomb outside a government building in DC and some kind of explosion betweene the Old Executive Offices and the White House, and another plane was forced to land in Cleveland full of bombs. People began to feel we were at the brink of war and panicked to fill their gas tanks and get groceries. I needed both anyway. Luckily I filled up at the station at lunch for $1.64 - $.10 more than yesterday in Martin City, but not an unusual fluctuation. Then I went to Hen House around 4pm and became nervous and stocked up on nonperishables and water. It felt like Y2K all over again only more real. By the time I got home from work, traffic was backed up from the long lines at the gas stations. In Texas gas was reportedly $5/gallon. Later I talked to my dad who said that Casey's General Store in Basehor was at $4.50/gallon and they ran out of gas.

[My roommate] had been sent home early from the Jewish Community Center [where he worked] and [his girlfriend at the time] had been in a building next to one that received a bomb threat so they were evacuated. I decided to cancel my ticket to fly to St. Louis to visit [my sister] on September 22 as the airlines were giving full refunds for all flights, so I went to Mom and Dad's for the confirmation information [I didn't have a computer at the time] and the streets were very quiet for 6:30pm on a Tuesday. The malls were closed, the Royals game cancelled, any venue for large populations anywhere in the country - including Disney World - were shut down.

I came home (unable to find the ticket info) and Mom and Dad called - they have been in Manitoba with Dad's cousin and her husband visiting Mom's family since Saturday. Mom and I talked quite a bit about the situation and Dad insisted that they come home tomorrow. I argued that they should stay there but Dad's worried about gas prices getting worse and everything else. I don't know if they can even get across the border at this point. I think it could get worse if we declare war on someone tomorrow, but it could calm down. It's hard to say, but everyone is telling people not to travel. All flights are cancelled until further notice, and all those that were in the air were diverted to other places, one of them being KC. All international flights have been deferred to Canada. I'm worried about my friends in Colorado Springs where the Air Force base is, and my friend, Tracy, who's a flight attendant for United – two of the planes that crashed were United planes.

I lived in a bubble that kept me safe from any idea of possible war; the three greatest tragedies of my lifetime were the Challenger explosion, the Gulf War and the Oklahoma [City] bombing. This was the greatest attack on America since Pearl Harbor and a much greater magnitude. In some ways it's almost seemed like a movie – we've become so desensitized to violence – but at the same time, it's so shocking and unbelievable. [My boss] and I were all trying to figure out why today, and her theory was that it's 9/11, or 9-1-1 – emergency. That was echoed by reporters on the news tonight. We don't know much at this point, however, since no one has come forward to take responsibility, and Bin Laden has denied any link at this juncture. God bless America.

Wordless Wednesday

2011-09-07T13:56:00.000-05:00

Glad for cooler weather. And a little cross-promoting never hurts, right? "Autum" seasonal wall letter sets are now available at Jaborandi Grove.

Guest Post: Divorce

2011-09-02T07:00:00.051-05:00

This is a guest post of a friend of mine who has been through hell and back in the last year. She has her own blog and has been about to boil over, keeping her story safe inside for fear her ex will find it and use it against her in court. I told her she just needed to get it out, and offered space here for her to vent.

• • • • • •

I didn’t hate the father of my children a year ago on this date. On this date in 2010, we were fine. Seriously dating other people, a year since our do-it-ourselves-friendly divorce (and three since we had separated), we were still the model of How To Co-Parent Correctly. I had believed for a long time that he agreed with me that our marriage was an unintentional, immature mistake; one made by two dumb kids unprepared to really know what forever and ever actually meant. After all, we spent more time choosing our majors in college than we did choosing each other as life partners, so as longtime friends I was confident we both wished each other happiness and peace in our future journeys.

I was wrong. Because while I wished for him a future with someone who could appreciate the great qualities he had, he apparently didn’t reciprocate, and I am still learning this in a very expensive, immeasurably painful way. So mea culpa.

And $@& him. Because three weeks after he got engaged, I got hit with the first two court issues.

What I’ve learned since the divorce about that never-met-a-stranger easygoing fella, is that he is a man who had been lying to me about how much his new job was paying him, and when his salary and commission quadrupled, he decided to stop splitting the costs we had always shared. So despite that I had stayed home with our children for seven years, spending a year trying to find a job that still paid less than any before kids, and was receiving less financial support than I could have asked for initially - he informed me he was done. Perfectly logical. And I’m sure it had nothing to do with the fact his 24 year-old fiancee (let’s call her Other Mother* from here on, shall we?) soon quit her job. Surely.

However, The Courts disagreed, and awarded me more. Lots more. But.. nearly a year later of games and appeals and overall legal asshattery, he still owes me tens (is twentys a word?) of thousands of dollars in back child support. Meanwhile my home has one working car currently, because we can’t quite shoulder the cost of a new car payment with childcare and full-day kindergarten expenses and kids’ therapy and autism specialists and medicine with no reimbursement.

Last spring my boyfriend and I bought a house in the radius of the kids’ school, so they could be guaranteed placement, and a month ago we were told by a little birdie that it was going to be used against me in court that I wasn’t legally attached to the house (since I wasn’t on the title), so we called an ordained friend that Tuesday, and got married over pizza and wine on our Thursday lunch break.

The tiramisu was better than any wedding cake I’ve ever had, but I sure could use a honeymoon eventually.

I learned in the last year that this gem of a guy is more than willing to block me from doctor appointments, and authorize medical decisions without my consent. That he will go so far as to pull one paragraph out of a blog post I’d once written, twist the context, and have his Decepticon attorney try to obliterate my character in court; refusing to look me in the eye while I sat on the witness stand and cried from shock. And hurt. And humiliation. Because I literally didn’t understand what the hell would possess my once-best friend to be so cruel.

I know he supported Other Mother telling my sweet baby girl, my soul, my heart, my mini-me, that it’s a grand idea to call her Mommy, because she is her new Mommy, dontchaknow. Which makes perfect twisted sense if you hear that after the daycare provider and my daughter called me in May to tell me, giggling, that I’d need to pick up my Mother’s Day gift after work, Other Mother decided to take it home instead, saying there had been a mistake and it was actually for her.

I’m going to let that

sink

for just a bit.

I learned that this man, this father who in theory was there to battle through the heartbreaking first couple years of our son’s autism diagnosis, would inexplicably, inexcusably, unforgivably, wait until the end of summer to file a motion to try to move the kids to the school by his new house. I mean, we had to have visits and social stories and months of preparation for our son to transition from Kindy to first grade in the same school with the same people. Yet this Pile of Parenting Fail wanted to wait until there was one week to the beginning of school to announce a new educational galaxy.

There literally isn’t enough teeth-clenching-barely-controlled-rage-disguised-as-witty-sarcasm to explain how wrong that was. I had nightmares for weeks about it. Weeks.

So that is why I recently found myself in court again: in the fourth motion on our docket, at the sixth hearing in nine months, not crying. This time I was pissed and totally ready to Chuck Norris him by pulling his heart out through his tear ducts. Because at this point I was done wishing him well or trying to understand what happened or what boundaries are being obliterated or why mediation didn’t work or what I could have done differently or how it was possible he could still

BE SO VENGEFUL TOWARD ME IF HE'S OSTENSIBLY MOVED ON WITH HER.

Because it doesn’t matter anymore. It is what it is what it is, and all I can do is keep trucking until it’s over.

So, because as sheer logic should follow, I won. Big. And my ex, my ulcer, my kids’ sperm donor, got a serious tongue lashing from the judge. Which was glorious. But not before I added another couple K to the eternal bill I owe my attorney. Who as of now doesn’t seem as willing to call our deal done if I just name a future child after him. Hmph.

So as you think about your upcoming Labor Day weekend, have second thoughts if it includes an invite to a lavish Midtown wedding replete with trolleys and chocolate fountains and (apparently) a smallish orchestra: you may be friends with the peach I just told you about, and you never know if there might be a surprise guest. Because karma surely is saving up a grandaddy of an event to visit these two, and I’ll give every mythical unicorn cent I’m supposedly owed if she unleashes it then. I have no doubt karma is a mamabear, too.

* Have you seen Coraline? Yeah, it’s my life, totally. No joke.

• • • • •

After hearing all she's been going through over the past year, my heart hurts for her. So please give her some love.

A Guest Post About Guest Posting… And Cake

2011-09-01T08:00:00.004-05:00

I'm excited to say that Jen from Dear Mommy Brain is visiting today! And after you read this, you will wonder why she questions her brilliance when you read this and this. She's a working mom, in the trenches like many of us, and not afraid to share it. So please go peruse her site when you finish reading here.

A Guest Post About Guest Posting… And Cake

When Jennifer invited me to her home to guest post, my first reaction was, “YAY! A new blog friend!”

Then as time wore on, I started to get more and more nervous.

And just like in real life, I started to worry that what I had to offer wouldn’t be good enough.

What if I wasn’t funny enough?

What if I looked like a shlub?

What if my cake tasted like sawdust?

I worried because this writing gig is tough.

I read lots of blogs and I’m amazed at how easy they make it look. Bloggers that are making appearances all over the interwebz, cranking out quality material as fast as McDonald’s cheeseburgers... While I’m sitting here staring at a computer screen for two hours trying to string together 250 words.

In school, I was always pretty decent at writing reports, but when it came to creative writing; my mind went blank. My Type A personality just isn’t capable of making stuff up.

So, when I started my blog nearly a year ago, I thought I would post about practical tips for working moms. It would be like writing a research paper. Piece of cake.

But the reality is, as I got more involved in the blogging community; the more I realized that wasn’t where my heart was. Sure, I still love to post recipes and the occasional household tip, but what I’m really passionate about is sharing the struggles (and joys) of life as a busy working mom.

And it still isn’t easy. But I guess sharing your heart never is.

#ProjectFindANewJob

2011-08-31T07:00:00.002-05:00

First, I just want to apologize for not responding to comments this week. I'm struggling. Monday I found out that my company needed to cut my hours in half. It wasn't a complete surprise. It could have been worse; another colleague was laid off. I was feeling pretty ok about it at first. "It will be rough, but we can get through this." And then support I thought I could count on wasn't there. And then I had to tell our part-time daycare provider that we had to stop going. Which made me realize how sad the girls would be. Ironic since I've been feeling guilty about sending them to daycare! But they have friends there, and I know they will miss them.

The decrease in hours is temporary (hopefully only three months). But too long for me to wait. We have slowly depleted our reserves since last November. And every month the cost of gas and groceries goes up. The Etsy shop will help - I hope! - but I will be getting a part-time job and updating my resume tonight.

I'm sad to the point of exhaustion. I could use prayers - and leads if you've got them. :) I know it will all work out for the best. Actually I really hope we can figure out a way to make it work so I'm part-time all the time - that would be my dream. But as long as the economy continues this way, it's not going to happen.

In the meantime, I need to take a break from blogging and tweeting as often. I will have a wonderful guest post tomorrow, so be sure to stop by for that. And I'll try to at least update you once a week. Thanks for your patience!

#ProjectMommyLips

2011-08-30T12:43:00.000-05:00

It started out as a joke:

And then turned into a full-blown project. First, Alison @MamaWantsThis got dolled up for a dinner date with her hubs. Wowza! Hot stuff. My DH was out of town over the weekend, so going out wasn't an option. But I knew I had to keep up with the challenge. So Saturday morning, when I took the girls to Lowe's to do their Build and Grow Clinic, I threw on a t-shirt and shorts. And lipstick:

That is my favorite shade. But clearly, it's too pale for this project. So during nap time that day, as I was sitting at the computer in our office/playroom working on my Etsy shop, I thought to myself, "Self, something is missing..."

It took a few minutes and then I realized - of course! I needed some hot pink lipstick. For this Kodak moment, threw my hair in a quick, messy up-do and snapped away in Photo Booth. Prom 1987, here I come!

Join us! You know you want to...

I Can Do This

2011-08-26T11:18:00.001-05:00

I imagine my announcement, swelling with hope, expectation, joy. Then I picture everyone's reactions. They are kind, but lukewarm. "Bless her heart"s are murmured. No one "likes" me on Facebook. No one follows me on Twitter. No one comments on my new blog. I falter. I look at all the other products that are available. So cute! Such talented artists. Why would anyone want my stuff? It's not the best. Maybe I should scrap this whole idea...

But then, a little voice buried in my heart behind old rejections and insecurities speaks up. "You can do this."

Can I?

"You're good enough."

Am I?

There's only one way to find out.

I wrote this in anticipation of opening my Etsy shop today. Please stop by if you get a chance:
etsy.com/shop/JaborandiGrove?ref=pr_shop
facebook.com/JaborandiGrove
JaborandiGrove.blogspot.com
@JaborandiGrove

Have you shared your story of being enough with Just.Be.Enough. yet? This is the 2nd of a 4 week campaign with Bellflower Books, who will donate one $75 gift certificate per every 20 links on the site, up to 120 links total. These gift certificates will go to families of women who are fighting breast cancer and will be used to create memory books on their behalf. Help us spread the word of this remarkable campaign so we can send even more love their way.

Exciting News!

2011-08-26T09:49:00.001-05:00

No, I'm not pregnant - sorry to disappoint! But I will have a new baby in my life - I just opened an Etsy shop! It's going to require a lot of care and some sleepless nights, but I'm hoping it will be worth it. Jaborandi Grove offers customizable letter wall decor like in the samples below. Please stop by and check it out! Also, you can find me on Facebook as well as Twitter, so if you have a minute and could "like" and "follow" I would really appreciate it.

Without It

2011-08-23T10:20:00.000-05:00

Today's remembeRED prompt from Write On Edge (previously The Red Dress Club):

We all have them.
Memories that we wish we could forget…things that we wish we could banish from our minds.
Imagine that writing down your worst memory will free you of it.
What is it?
Why does it haunt you?
What could you have done differently?
Write it down and let it go.
Let’s keep it to 600 words or less.

Would I take it away? My first reaction is always yes, yes, please make it so it never happened. It's painful, it's embarrassing, it ruined relationships. There are still mornings when I wake up in a panic after dreaming about it.

It's fading, though. Slowly. Writing is definitely cathartic for me, so I have started to write about it several times. I can't seem to put it into the right words yet. The day will come.

For now, I will just say that though it was awful for me, so many people experience much, MUCH worse things. I'm thankful that in the scope of life, it was something relatively painless. And thankful for my husband who loves me, flaws and all.

I still wish it hadn't happened. But in retrospect, if it hadn't happened, my life would probably be completely different right now.

Without it, I wouldn't have seen the love that was in front of me.

Without it, I wouldn't have a hilarious, beautiful, toddler with an incredible appetite for learning.

Without it, I wouldn't have a brilliant, gorgeous, red-headed preschooler whose tender heart makes me smile every day.

Without it, I wouldn't have married my best friend.

So, no. As much as I wish it hadn't happened, I would never take it away.

Patience and Princess Paranoia

2011-08-22T14:29:00.000-05:00

And this is where I ask my readers for a little patience. I'm working on a new project, and once I get it up and running (hopefully this week), I will be back to my regularly scheduled programming. In the meantime, here are some posts for you to look forward to:

• Chapter 3 of our Love Story
• More Baby Bullets
• A synopsis of my trip to Joplin
• Memories of 9.11
• A guest post

And an oldie, but goodie for you to enjoy in the meantime:

Princess Paranoia

• • • • • •

I was a tomboy as a kid. I liked my Hot Wheels and Legos, and cringed when I had to play Barbies with my sister. As an adult, I was afraid I would grow up, get married, have a baby girl and have no idea how to play with her.

I didn't just have a little girl; I had two. YIKES.

Initially I was determined they would not have anything princess related, because all that teaches them is that women can't be happy on their own, and they need a knight in shining armor to rescue them. What a load of crap. Not to mention it just contributes to the Barbie ideal of beauty. I was convinced that a lot of the reason girls have that type of personality is a reflection of the kinds of toys/games/media kids are exposed to, so I decided shielding her from that for as long as possible would keep her from being sucked into that mindset.

The first couple of years with S went fine. She got a lot of hand-me-downs with princesses on them, and a dress-up gown, but it didn't really seem to be something that caught her attention. She has very well-rounded interests - Legos, books, babies, trains, singing, Hot Wheels, playing on her swing set, painting, dancing, playing with her mower and her wagon. She loves Hello Kitty and playing with her purse and jewelry, but also Curious George, Sid the Science Kid and Shrek. She has sports paraphernalia for soccer, baseball and golf.

Then she started daycare with a sweet little girl who is very girly. You know, the kind who always shows up in adorable outfits with her hair in braids and bows. (I'm lucky if I can get S out the door with clothes on at all, much less matching ones since I let her choose what she wants to wear. And I had to cut her hair into a bob because she won't let me brush it.) Her little friend is all about princess stuff. She had a princess-themed bday party in the spring. I thought my fears of S being corrupted were being confirmed when I asked her what kind of party she wanted to have this summer, and she said "Princesses!" My heart sank. But when I asked her who she wanted to have on her cake, she said, "Elmo, Cookie Monster, Grover...." Whew!

Of course I want her to be friends with kids who have other interests, and her friend is such a sweet girl. She is very blessed to have met her. And after having read other blogs about this type of thing, I've decided that if DD goes through an obsession with princesses, it will be ok. Because I will do what a lot of the other posters have suggested - focus on the positive aspects of their characters and let her know that a real princess doesn't need to be rescued by a knight - she can be successful on her own.

Fiona in Shrek is a good example. Though she is initially rescued, her fairy-tale idea of being kissed by her savior when he arrives is shattered by the reality of Shrek shaking her awake and telling her to get up. Then when she's abducted by Robin Hood and his thieves, she does some Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon/Matrix/Charlie's Angels moves to save herself. And of course the big moral of the story is not to judge a book by its cover. I love how at the end her true self is an ogre which shows that you don't have to have a certain look to be a princess.

I have learned a lot through this experience, faced some previously unknown prejudices and grown as a person. It still amazes me how much trying to teach my own kids teaches me!

New Clothes

2011-08-17T07:00:00.031-05:00

My stomach ached. I was perspiring. My breath came in shorter, faster bursts. I thought about leaving. My chest was tight. What put me in this physically distraught circumstance?

Clothes shopping.

I have not bought new clothes in about two years. I am at the heaviest I have ever been in my life, and I didn't want to buy anything new until I lost weight. So I've been wearing old clothes that are too tight or maternity clothes. But I'm going on a girls trip this weekend, and I needed something cute and comfortable to wear.

I've never been a fan of clothes shopping, but it's never bothered me before, either. I met a friend over lunch last week to get a new outfit for our trip. I got to the mall before she did, and had a mild anxiety attack in the department store. I've never had one before. Certainly not about clothes.

When she arrived, I chattered nervously to her, trying to hide my paranoia. (Who gets freaked out about shopping?) All I could think about was that nothing was going to fit, and nothing would look nice on me, because I'm not a very good version of myself right now. It made me so sad, I didn't want to shop.

As we wandered through the sale racks and grabbed tops and pants, I forced myself to take deep breaths, to calm down. At one point, I literally thought to myself, "Just. Be. Enough." I felt a little silly about it at first. Then, empowered. "This is exactly what Elena is talking about," I thought. "This is what I'll write my post about."

No, I'm not the size I was five years ago. I need to continue to strive to be better - eat better, exercise more, take better care of myself - but I also need to recognize the worth of who I am now, too. I am a woman. And I am enough.

Not Right

2011-08-16T07:00:00.004-05:00

Today's guest post is from a bloggy friend who has words to share that need to be said, but can't be said on her blog. My heart hurts for her. Please show her some love!

• • • • • •

A few weeks ago Child 2 had a birthday party; in attendance were his best friend and his friend’s older brother, who has been diagnosed with ADHD and sensory issues. He had spent a good deal of time at the party off to the side, away from the other kids, doing his own thing.

Earlier today I was talking to my mom on the phone and we were talking about these kids. “What’s going on with the older one?” She asked. “I watched him for a while and I could tell there was something not right about him.”

I don’t remember my reaction, but I instantly felt defensive. She was saying she thought he might be autistic, which may be true although he has no diagnosis; but that doesn’t mean that he’s “not right.”

I thought about it for a while and decided to email her. I asked her to be mindful of her choice of language when talking about autism, particularly around my kids. Saying he’s “not right” because he has autistic tendencies is the same as saying “there’s something wrong with him” because he has autistic tendencies. This is not a message I want either of my kids to learn.

My child has autism, but there’s nothing wrong with him. This is how he is; who he is. I don’t want him growing up thinking that he’s defective because of the way his brain works. I think our generation has an opportunity to change the way the entire world thinks about autism; like I told my mom: “being autistic isn’t a negative thing, it’s just a different way of thinking.”

Choice of language when talking about these things is a lot more important than people realize and I think it’s my duty, as a parent of an autistic child, to educate people about this. After all, if I don’t, who will? But most importantly I don’t want my child to think that there’s something wrong with him. Because there isn’t.

jillsmo blogs at yeahgoodtimes.com and is the mother of 2 boys: Child 1 is 9 and has autism; Child 2 is 6 and does not.

Chapter 2 of A Love Story: The Beginning of... Something

2011-08-15T07:00:00.009-05:00

*If you missed Chapter 1 and would like to catch up, you can read it here.

Chapter 2: The Beginning of... Something

A month or so went by. Remington and I were lazing in his room in his parents' basement looking through the summer course catalog. He, too, was planning to enroll in the junior college, though his path to get there was different than mine.

When Remington had been in high school, he had been, for lack of a better word, a punk. He was kicked out of two parochial schools before finally ending up at my rival public school. He turned 18 in April his senior year and moved out of his parents' house that day. He was living in an apartment with his friend, Brad, when he graduated.

He stayed out on his own for two years, working, partying, getting into trouble. Finally, he realized his life was going nowhere fast. Even though he dreaded the idea of going to school, he knew he would need to get a college degree to ever have a chance to make something of himself. So he swallowed his pride, made amends with his parents and moved back home.

A month before I met him.

As we debated whether he should take Comp I that summer or not, the phone rang.

"Hey, Brad. How's it goin'?"

Remington's end of the conversation was riveting.

"Yeah."

"Uh-huh."

"Really?"

"Wow."

"Huh. So what are you up to?"

Remington paced the 8-foot-width of his bed while he talked. (Some things never change.)

"Just hanging out with Jenn."

Brad said something that caused Remington to look over at me with a sheepish grin.

"I don't know if she would let me call her my girlfriend."

I smiled and teased, "Well, maybe you should ask." Secretly, I was surprised there was even a question. To be his girlfriend would mean we were dating exclusively. Which made it seem as though I could have been dating other guys while he and I had been seeing each other thus far. Me? With multiple suitors at once? It was so preposterous, I almost laughed at the thought.

But with him, at least the possibility existed. It hadn't with David. Remington and I were interdependent instead of co-dependent. He encouraged me to spend time with my girlfriends. I didn't have to justify where I was when I wasn't with him. This was different than my previous experience. Everything about our relationship was different.

With David, even though I knew it was silly to think it, I had been convinced he and I were truly in love, and his promise ring to me meant we would be together forever. Whether he followed me to Colorado for college or we dated long-distance, nothing could keep us apart. We were a pop love song.

I had no such immature notions with Remington. I knew I would be moving 600 miles away for school in year and a half. I was happy with my life as it was and decided to just take things one day at a time and not worry about it. It's not like I was ready to get married. My best friend and I had a Five Year Plan: Go to college. Meet Mr. Right. Graduate. Live on our own for a year. Get married. I wasn't about to start thinking of Remington as my future husband while I was still at junior college.

Not only that, but David and I had had instant chemistry. Our whole relationship was so... intense. Lust and envy, love and hate, drama, drama, drama. While I didn't miss the histrionics, I expected my feelings about my soul mate to be as extreme as they had been with him. I thought I would be overwhelmed with emotions.

I was definitely attracted to Remington, don't get me wrong. I got butterflies when he looked at me. I couldn't wait for him to call me every night. His kisses - well, I need to stop there before the keyboard melts. But the hormones of teen angst were my only reference point, and though they had resulted in real emotions, they were nothing like the true love I labeled them as. And from that viewpoint, my new relationship did not appear to be love.

And so, as I mulled it over in my head, I decided I didn't want to encourage him if I wasn't sure yet. So after he hung up the phone with Brad and asked me to be his girlfriend, I told him no.

Baby Bullets: 3rd Edition

2011-08-13T07:00:00.002-05:00

I love our kids. They crack me up. Every. Day. The first three bullets from today's update are fairly old - I thought I'd posted them a couple of months ago, but I don't see them here.

Baby R started saying "No, no, nooo" in the sing-song voice my mom uses. Ha!
She also started saying "I bee bu" which is toddler code for "I love you." Heart... melting....
She bit a chunk out of a bouncy ball. I try to keep them away from her since, clearly, it's a choking hazard. S is terrible about leaving them out and about. She's a little better about it now that one has been ruined.
S got a new backpack from my MIL last weekend when my SIL was here. She was playing with it last night and Baby R wanted it, so I asked her if she could give her old Pooh backpack to Baby R. She did, so they were off to school. S dropped Baby R off at preschool and said, "This is your teacher Miss B; she will teach you A LOT of stuff!"
Then S shouted out, "Going to high school! Bye!"
S: I need my keys. I know they're around here somewhere. (Wonder where she's heard that before.)
On our walk Tuesday night, S said "I have to fly to Canada to work on my exercise." Then as we were headed back to the house she yelled, "I'm going to miss my plane! (running) Wait! Wait!"
Baby R loves Farkle in Shrek 4 (Yes, I know - lovely movie choice for the little ones). Farkle has no lines. He's in it for probably 5 minutes total. Felicia and Fargus are both discussed more. But she's got a soft spot for him.

Betrayal

2011-08-12T05:00:00.000-05:00

"You're hands are so small," Jeremy said, as he threaded his masculine fingers between my dainty ones.

"Maybe yours are just big," I teased back, glancing up at him shyly.

It's harmless, I told myself. We're just talking. Friends hold hands all the time.

• • • • •

It was Friday night after finals, and I was at a house party. Everyone was in the basement playing pool and Wii "Just Dance." I had channeled my inner MC Hammer and gotten the high score for "U Can't Touch This" before going upstairs for another beer. I was on my way out of the kitchen when I ran into Jeremy leaving the bathroom. We had stood in the hallway chatting for about 15 minutes before he suggested sitting on the couch.

I had thought he was cute from a distance all semester, even though he was a jock. I tended to prefer someone my size, someone I knew I could take if I had to. It didn't matter anyway; my roommate, Sarah, had called dibs on him the first day we saw him. Like most college guys I knew, he seemed to want to keep his options open, dating girls a few times, but never getting serious. We were friends through a group, so I knew him, but not very well. This was the first time I'd had a chance to talk to him alone.

As we chatted, I felt an instant chemistry with him. I watched his soft, full lips form the words to a story, his chocolate-brown eyes giving away that it was a joke. I laughed and touched his arm, tucking my foot under my knee so I could face him more easily. Just some light flirting. He got up to get us fresh drinks, and when he sat back down, he had closed the distance between us by half. No big deal.

"To the end of finals," he said with a lopsided grin, clinking my bottle with his.

"Amen," I agreed, leaning back into the sofa. I took a long swig and felt the alcohol tingle down my throat before I set it on the coffee table next to his.

"Those are cool earrings." He reached over and delicately held my earlobe. I inhaled his crisp, musky scent, as my breath caught in my throat.

"Thanks." I reached up to feel them. Our hands brushed against each other, and mine lingered for a moment before settling on the pearl stud. "Oh, these were a present from my sister on my 21st birthday."

He let out a low whistle. "Nice sister."

I smiled. "Sometimes being the youngest has its perks. She's been in the real world long enough to actually have money."

As my hand fell back to the couch, I let it land beside his. He slid his pinky on top of mine sending a shiver through me.

"You're hands are so small," Jeremy said, as he threaded his masculine fingers between my dainty ones.

"Maybe yours are just big," I teased back, glancing up at him shyly.

It's harmless, I told myself. We're just talking. Friends hold hands all the time.

As he manipulated my fingers, we shifted closer to each other so that only a space of electricity was left between us.

I fought to control my breathing, my chest tight with desire. His breath was warm on my fingertips. I closed my eyes and let my head tilt until it was scarcely touching his shoulder. His lips skimmed across my knuckle, and I was glad we were already sitting as my knees went weak.

"Grace."

I knew he wanted me to look up at him. I wanted to look up at him, but I knew what would happen if I did.

"Yes?" My skin was tingling and the butterflies in my stomach made it difficult to speak.

"Grace."

I took a slow, trembling breath, and opened my eyes before tilting my face toward his.

"Yes?" The word was whispered so quietly, it was simply a puff of air in the inch between us.

Stop. You have to tell him you can't.

He leaned down toward me, seemingly in slow motion, yet too quickly for me to say the words I knew I needed to say.

His lips were warm and gentle, and suddenly the world fell away, and there was no couch, no party, no Sarah, just Jeremy. His arm around my back, his other hand squeezing my thigh, his curly brown hair enmeshed in my fingers. His fingers, spanning my shoulder blades as easily as he could palm a basketball. Our kisses became deeper and more urgent until I found myself wanting nothing more than to feel the weight of his body on top of mine.

Reluctantly, we came back to reality, and slowly, achingly, disentangled ourselves from each other. I slid my legs that had found their way onto his lap back down on the couch. My hand plaintively shifted from his six-pack abs under his sweater to my own lap. He angled back to look in my eyes and swept the hair from my cheek. Gently he kissed my nose, then my forehead, before pulling me to him. I leaned my head on his chest as he enveloped me with brawny arms. The euphoria faded as I realized I would have to go back downstairs and see Sarah.

This week's prompt was:

Let's get all steamy up in here and write about sex. But you know us. There's a twist. You can't write about the act. I don't want to read about any heaving bosoms or girded manhood (please tell me someone else giggled besides me). There are so many other possibilities. And I hope you have fun finding them.Limit is 600 words. It can be fiction or non-fiction. Come back here and link up Friday!!

I decided to write about the intensity that leads up to sex and the post-coital snuggling, skipping the act itself. I suppose there was a bit of heaving bosom involved, so I'm not sure I completed the assignment entirely within the parameters. As always, concrit is welcome!

Shell's Summer Link Up

2011-08-11T07:00:00.001-05:00

Shell has another fab link-up all about recapping our summer in photos. Here are a few that sum ours up for me:

Broccoli from the garden

Barbecue

Baby R enjoying watermelon

Baby R at The Magic House in St. Louis

Our first train ride to St. Louis

Bubbles in the July 4th parade

Sprinkler time

Family get together

Sidewalk chalk face (sideways)

Birthday presents

I'm having a terrible time getting my pics to line up, but I think it looks fun this way. Right? Right?

Link up your Summer Fun for a chance to win prizes from Ubisoft!

Joplin

2011-08-09T09:59:00.000-05:00

Aerial photo of Joplin, MO, circa 2009

Joplin after the tornado hit in May, 2011

I'm a suburban Kansas City native, meaning I grew up in Tornado Alley. I've never been in a tornado myself, but I have been blocks away a few times - don't believe the old wives' tale that it won't hit a city! Many towns close by, though, have been greatly damaged, such as Lawrence and North KC, or even experienced complete destruction like Greensburg and Joplin.

Tornadoes are a powerful enigma to me. A flood, an earthquake, a tsunami, a blizzard, a volcanic eruption, a hurricane, an avalanche, a drought - pretty much all natural disasters I can think of have a ground zero from which everything is equally damaged for the most part. But a tornado can seemingly pick and choose what it wants to destroy.

A story that illustrates this is one my dad shared with me many times growing up. He had a friend who got ready for bed one night and left his wallet lying open on the dresser. There were two $20 bills partially sticking out. In the middle of the night, there was a tornado, so he and his family took shelter. (I can't remember where - in their neighbor's cellar maybe?) After the storm, they emerged to find that their house was completely gone. All that was left was the slab it had been built on. Everything else had disappeared.

Except for the dresser.

And the wallet.

And the cash which hadn't been disturbed at all.

Can you imagine?

Sunday, Dan Mitchell, a pastor from Joplin and head of their outreach program, The Bridge, was a guest speaker at the church I attend. He walked us through the first few days of life after the tornado in Joplin. It was an amazing service. I've included the link to it here. If you get a chance to listen to it, you really should.

(I'm also including the link to his CNN interview. Please don't watch it until after you've listened to the service; the background story is what makes this so incredible.)

As we all know, there is a constant supply of happenings in the news, and an event from a few months ago is quickly forgotten. Unfortunately, for those who live through a catastrophe, day to day existence is difficult for much longer than that time. The town of Greensburg is still rebuilding after a tornado literally wiped it off the map in 2007. It's a long road to recovery for those in Joplin. But what can the rest of us do?

1. Pray. In general for the city and the government and the people and the rebuilding process.

2. Pray for the spiritual leaders of Joplin. Before Dan spoke Sunday, our staff gave us a startling statistic - 75% of clergy give up on being church leaders within two years of a calamity of this magnitude. The intense need of their flock plus their own dire circumstances can be too much to bear. Pray for strength for the pastors of Joplin to be able to minister to the needs of their parishioners as well as to remember to keep focusing on God. It's easy to get sucked into the immediacy of a disaster and try to take care of it as a human and forget to seek God's will first.

3. Volunteer. Though they are thankful for those who want to help, random everyday people showing up at this point is not very helpful. The needs they have now are very specific. If you are a skilled tradesman, they can really use your help.

4. Donate money. Our church collected clothes, toys, food, etc. the first week after the tornado, and our pastor and a couple of others headed down to drop it off the following week. When they got there, the distribution centers were overflowing with the outpouring of donations they had received. They didn't have room for any more. How amazing is that!?! So now what they need is actual money to fund the rebuilding. If you can make a donation, make sure to use a reputable organization such as The Red Cross or the Salvation Army.

Also, there's a Facebook page that has updates on specific needs as well.

The Joke's On Us: A Love Story

2011-08-08T07:00:00.000-05:00

This post has been in the works for awhile. On April 1st, Alex from Late Enough asked us for our best Fool's Day pranks. Which prompted a discussion on Twitter where Kris from Pretty All True encouraged me to write about how I've been married only six years but known my husband for 17. And of course, Ali at My Suitcase Full of Tricks joined Life with Baby Donut Rach's link up "So How'd You Meet?" and shared how she and her husband started out going to Homecoming "just as friends."

The story of DH and me and our winding path to marriage is kind of complicated, and I want to do it justice. While I could shorten it enough to fit it into one post, if I'm going to tell it, I may as well tell all of it. So I decided to post it in segments. My first novella, if you will. Enjoy.

(Note: To ease the burden of anonymity on this one, I'm going to alter the names from first initials to pseudonyms. R will be Remington, because I had a huge crush on Pierce Brosnan back in the day. Plus it sounds all soap-opera-y.)

Chapter 1: Timing Is Everything

When I was 17, I was convinced I would die a virgin. I was skinny - no boobs, no butt, knobby knees, shaped like a boy. My crazy, frizzy, big hair had yet to meet a Chi and never stayed soft or styled, no matter how much VO5 or hair spray I used. In the decade when people couldn't get enough sun, my lily white skin was embarrassing. My outgoing personality was overshadowed by my nerdiness - rules were made to be followed, and good grades must be achieved. I had never had a boyfriend. I had never been kissed. If only Drew Barrymore's movie had come out back then, it would have given me hope.

But then I met a boy, we'll call him David, and he was cute and funny and charming, and I fell for him. Like a rock. And the short version of this part of the story is that he fell for me, too. We dated for a year - which in high school, is the equivalent to being married for five and having two kids. Then he broke up with me. I was devastated. It took me forever to get over him. Read - another year. Quid pro quo, what felt like five more in teen-land.

By then I was a freshman at junior college, or as I like to think of it, post-secondary education purgatory: a holding pattern between high school and real college. I couldn't afford to go to the out-of-state university I had set my sights on yet, and I wasn't quite ready to let go and move out of my parents' house anyway. It was just the middle ground I needed at that point in my life.

By the beginning of the second semester, I felt like I had found my rhythm again. I had gotten used to the friends who had left being gone, a new schedule of school and work, and being single. I had finally started to feel content just being me, on my own, spending time with old and new girlfriends, without a desperate need to find another boyfriend. Comfortable with the idea that I would someday find love again, and in no rush to search for it.

One Friday night that February, a friend I'll call Andrea invited me to sleep over. We were lounging on her couch, decked out in sweats, hair in ponytails, wearing our glasses instead of contacts, no makeup on. While flipping through magazines and chatting, the phone rang. It was her friend, Remington.

Andrea had mentioned Remington to me several times in the two years I'd known her. They worked together, and one day when I picked her up after her shift, she gave a hasty introduction in which I tossed out a perfunctory "Hi," and he responded with a nod, and a "How's it goin'." We ran in occasionally overlapping social circles. At a house party when David and I were still dating, David and I had a knock-down, drag-out screaming match in the kitchen, and oddly enough, I remember Remington being there, caught in the corner, only able to sip his drink and pretend not to notice us. Another time, a group including Remington had gone to the Steve Miller Band concert, and I was planning to attend, but got sick and had to miss it.

So that night when Remington called Andrea, I thought nothing of it when he asked us over to his parents' house to watch a movie with him and another of their co-workers, Brad. I even remember a fleeting thought along the lines of, "I look like crap, but who cares? It's just that Remington guy." I expected to spend the majority of my time vegging out watching the movie, and chatting a little with Andrea.

Thinking back, I have no idea what movie was playing that night. Or speaking much to Andrea. I just remember that once Remington and I started chatting, we never stopped. My mom says I came home the next day and told her I thought we could talk to each other forever.

After that night, Remington and I started to spend a lot of time together, though I didn't consider us dating quite yet. I enjoyed his company and could sense he was wanting more than friendship, but I didn't know what I wanted. Part of me wanted to keep it casual; I wasn't ready for romance. But I really liked him.

One evening, we went to Pizza Hut and played a motorcycle video game before going to a movie. Maybe it was the pepperoni talking. Maybe it was the competitor in me. But that night seemed different. I count it as our first date.

Blogging Personality

2011-08-05T15:39:00.000-05:00

With the BlogHer conference this week, the Twitterverse was all, well, atwitter. Some people were excited to go. Some were apprehensive. Some said they didn't do conferences and liked to keep their online lives separate from their "real" ones. It seemed that a lot of what it came down to (aside from being able to finagle travel/kids/work/finances) was personality. So after tossing the idea around a bit with @jillsmo, I thought I'd do a little poll to find out how people view themselves.

Here are some of the responses I got:

@Fourplusangel I'm WAY more extroverted when I write. I wouldn't say half this stuff out loud.; If we could all just tweet each other from across the room I would be fine.

@HouseUnseen I'm not a conferencer either! Just thinking about being in a room full of people I don't know...; I am definitely more extroverted in writing because I can delete and think and wait and not accidentally spit on anyone...

@varunner7 I'm an INFP myself. Idealist through and through ;-)

@TwinsMa I'm less reserved online. I talk about & say things that I don't necessarily share with others in person.

@MamaoftheFisch I am an introvert...which is weird b/c I am a teacher. Just pretty private irl.

@TLanceB ENTP, same same same- extroverted, anxietied, engaged

@TruthfulMommy Im a social butterfly big mouth talkaholic..pretty much everywhere :)LOL

@MothersHideaway it really depends on the situation. People say extroverted, but depends on the crowd. Same mix online?

@SuitcaseTricks Totally an extrovert. I know, shocking. I'm exactly the same online, but I curse less because I can edit.

@SurferWife Extrovert. Both. Surprising?

@ErinMargolin honestly? i am easier to get to know online. more open. in person? i can be really shy at first.

@HonestConvoGal Introvert via testing. However, I like people. I just have to have time to re-charge my batteries after hanging out

@elainea I'm a totally extrovert. Will talk to anyone who will listen. Much like on my blog. :)

@vic39first I'd like to think I'm the same in my blog as I am in person... only taller and with better grammar.

I thought the results were pretty interesting. So much so that I decided to make a chart. And @SurferWife and I decided it should be a pie chart. Chocolate. With whipped cream.

On the one hand I thought people who are extroverts IRL probably make up a large part of the blogosphere because we're already so outspoken. But then I thought, blogging really allows introverts to express themselves. And my horrifically unscientific experiment ended up with fairly split results that mimicked my impressive grasp of sociology.

As for me, I'm pretty outgoing in real life. And online. Though, I do say things differently in both realms. In some respects I'm more cautious with my blog than in person because it's documentation of the crazy. In others, it allows me a more open and honest venue because I'm not as nervous about a person's face-to-face reaction.

How about you? Are you the same online as you are in person?

What Helped Me Grow My Blog?

2011-08-03T14:54:00.001-05:00

Advice for Others, Prompt 5:
What activities, practices, features or events have helped you most in terms of blog or social media growth?

I feel a little silly doing a prompt under this category; I'm no expert. But I will just share my tale, which is kind of the point of this blog, and you can take it as advice or simply as a story.

So many things have helped Midwest "Mom"ments grow. It started as an online journal. Then I slowly did each of the following steps and found myself getting a few more comments, another follower or two, a request for a piece here and there. My blog still is not huge. And that's ok with me. I had a fleeting dream of bloggy stardom once, but realized that wasn't my destiny. Because as much as I love this space I've carved out for me here, it's not my top priority right now. And I would need for it to be in order to do all that was necessary to get famous.

That said, I don't want to disappear into oblivion either. There are little things that can be done to nurture it along. Here are the ones that worked for me. (I imagine they aren't very original, but that's also probably why they work.)

1. Submit posts for publication. Mamapedia, BlogHer, Studio30Plus - find a group in your niche, who you can speak to, and submit, submit, submit! Even if your pieces aren't selected for publication, going to those sites can help you find your tribe. Which brings me to #2:

2. Read other blogs. Comment on them. Let them know how you found them. Include your email address and site. Many of them will come back to visit you.

3. Engage. When those new visitors comment? Respond. Let them know you appreciate their attention. They'll be more likely to remember you. There are gazillions of blogs out there. Set yourself apart by developing a direct relationship.

Also, when you have an opportunity to post on something that legitimately allows for you to link back to someone, do. (Note the links in this post.) Don't force it, but be aware so you don't miss out on chances, either. This helps foster community.

4. Join a meme or link-up. The first one I found was Kludgy Mom's Back to School/Back to Blogging workshop. That not only introduced me to a bunch of bloggers who were on relatively the same level as I was, it gave me lots of tips to improve my blog so people would want to come back.

A few months later, I found The Red Dress Club, a fiction and memoir writing group, and that was a huge gateway for my blog to grow in a different direction. As was Bloggy Moms.

And thanks to Liz from A Belle, A Bean and A Chicago Dog and Jessica from Four Plus An Angel who set up this #SummerBlogSocial link-up, I will find more people to connect with.

5. Have your blog reviewed by professionals. I was lucky enough for Eli Rose Social Media to take a peek at this humble abode, and they cleaned house! I have yet to institute some of the changes, but I've gotten a few done. Hoping to complete the bulk of them by the end of the summer.

6. If you don't know much about blogging, find someone who does. Whether it's Gigi's B2S/B2B or Eli Rose or any number of sources, get schooled! The Internet is your oyster. It's covered in pearls for you to find. And if you don't know where to go for the answers, just ask. Which brings me to #6:

7. Join Twitter. Twitter is the da bomb. It's fun, it's informative, it's real, it's fluid, it's supportive. Granted, when you first join, it's also weird. You have stilted conversations as if at a cocktail party where you don't know anyone. But once you find quality people to follow (avoid egg avatars!), and you witness how it works, you'll find it's more like long chats at a slumber party with old friends. And a few perverted peeping Toms on occasion. (Yes, @moooooog35, I'm looking at you.)

8. Advertise. The free kind. Set up a Facebook fan page. Tweet your posts. Guest post on other blogs and invite them to guest post on yours. Set up an RSS feed and email subscription, and post links to those and your Twitter and FB accounts at the top of your blog.

9. Then write, re-write and re-write some more. My first posts were just typed out and posted without a second thought. Most of my family updates are still that way, very little editing. But anything that has real content should be proofread. Multiple times. You want your visitors to become fans. And they will - if you give them your best. But if you offer mediocrity, they're less likely to consider you worthy of their undivided attention.

To be fair, I don't do that as well as I should. There are times when I've felt I was too busy. But as a great John Wooden quote I saw from @Sports_Greats on Twitter today said, “If you don't have time to do it right the first time, when will you have time to do it over?” (And now I'm paranoid that I've missed a typo in my 17th round of editing this post.)

There you have it. As I said, I'm far from an expert, but I hope this list is helpful to someone out there. And now I'm off to check out everyone else's suggestions!

S's 4th Birthday Party: Cars

2011-08-01T13:08:00.002-05:00

Saturday was the big day for the bday party. It was supposed to rain Friday night, so I decided that I (and by "I," I mean DH since I hurt my back the day before) would set up the chairs and tents in the morning. About 7:45am, I headed outside to start hanging things up. Within a few minutes, it started pouring. So I grabbed everything and threw it back into the garage.

• • • Aside • • •

For those of you not living in the Midwest, it's been in the 100's for the last few weeks. So the idea of rain was not wholly unwelcome. Everything is really dry - ironic, considering the rivers are flooding - so we needed it. And I hoped it would cool everything off. But I was also afraid it would just make it more humid. And afraid that the "spotty shower" the meteorologists incorrectly predicted for Friday night would turn out to be an all-day thunderstorm of ark-like proportions on Saturday.

Thankfully it turned out to be short-lived, and we ended up with beautiful weather! The tents gave us shade, and there was a breeze. The kids were actually cold at times playing in the water - crazy!

Decor

I didn't do a lot for decor since we were outside. I had planned to draw a road on the driveway in sidewalk chalk, but it was still wet, and time was limited, so I skipped it. I bought a racing pennant/banner at US Toy, and used it in conjunction with some poster board orange cones to guide guests around to the back of the house. I made a sign that looked like the Cars logo with S's name on it and attached some balloons.

The welcoming committee: Grandma D and Baby R.

Entertainment

The party went well! We had about 35-40 people I think. The older kids played on the slip 'n slide while the younger ones took a dip in the kiddie pool. Everyone enjoyed the swingset. I was going to play Red Light, Green Light with the older ones, but decided to leave them to their own devices since they seemed to be content with unstructured play.

I feel like I work as an editor on "Cops" blurring out everyone's faces...
And S appears to be a zombie from "Thriller" in this pic. ??

Favors

As the guests trickled in, I had intended to hand out their Pit Passes, but since they were getting wet right away, I waited until later to give them out. For those I included the Cars logo with S's name and then just wrote Pit Crew, followed by Event: S's 4th Bday Party, Date: July 30, 2011, Crew Member: (Guest's Name). Most of the kids can't read yet, but they recognize their names, so they thought it was cool. I just used 3M laminating sheets for 4x6 photos and cut them in half, then used red lanyards (also from US Toy) to hang them from for the older kids.

The favor bags were just plain red bags and I printed out a checkerboard print that I cut into triangles and then attached personalized names with a pop-dot. They turned out really cute, I think. Inside the bags I just put a mini crayon set with two coloring pages, a toy car and some stickers.

Cake

The party was early - 9:30am-11:30am - because of the expected heat. So I waited til about 10:30am to have cake and ice cream. (It's never too early for cake, right?) Let me preface this by saying that I have zero skillz in the cake decorating department. None. I had gone round and round about what to do for S's cake, and finally decided to make a 1/2 sheet cake of Funfetti for the bottom layer and a chocolate 8" round for the top. I frosted it green for grass and with a fudge frosting circle on top for the racetrack. Hy-vee had these sugar Cars shapes of Lightning and Mater, so, with the help of my sister, I threw those on top. I had made a Piston Cup cupcake topper that read "Happy Birthday" on the top with S's name at the bottom.

No, it's not a ring of poo, it's a racetrack.

I certainly didn't love how it looked, but it tasted good so I guess that's the important part! Will definitely do cupcakes for Baby R's bday in November. I rock at cupcakes.

S actually opened her presents this year, and was very good about being appreciative and patient with her little friends who all wanted to help, of course. Though, my brother-in-law apparently heard her mumble under her breath to one of the boys that he already had his party, and these were her presents. Thankfully, I don't think anyone else heard. :) Overall, I think everyone had a great time. And then it was time for a nap for everyone...

Happy Birthday, S

2011-07-30T09:00:00.030-05:00

Last Saturday we told you your bday was a week away. Every day since you've asked if it's your birthday. Not like last year when you were excited but moved on because a week was just a concept that was still beyond you.

We went to Chick-Fil-A on Tuesday night when the AC was out. I watched you quickly, confidently scale the play area, rushing around, head back, laughing, carefree. The hesitation you used to show, gone. You encouraged Baby R to follow you. Helped other kids down the slide. In these moments, my heart swells with pride.

You love to watch your Little Learners Preschool Spring Show DVD. You squeal with delight when you see yourself and your friends. You sing along with the songs. You already look so much bigger, older, than two months ago. At least once a week you ask me if you get to go back to school yet. I'm thrilled that you love learning!

You are fully potty trained now - you wore Pull-Ups at night longer than you probably needed to. I was scared for you since bedwetting runs in the family, and didn't want to push you too fast. You would get so upset when you did have an accident when you tried to stay dry on your own. Sometimes you would insist you had just had a sweaty sleep. You didn't want to make a mistake. A perfectionist. I try to let you know it's ok for mistakes to happen, but you don't want to hear it. Hone that trait. Use it to be the best you can, but let go a little so it doesn't destroy your world when you have failures.

Though the tantrums are fewer, your defiance has increased. We had a horrible night a couple of weeks ago. I lost my temper with you. Multiple times. Screamed at you. Need to remember I'm the adult. Pray for patience. I don't know how my mom did it. I don't remember her yelling at us. My dad and I got in screaming fights, but I don't really remember any of them, just that they happened. But that's not the first thing I think of. My impressions of my parents from childhood are loving and happy and blessed. Will your memories of me be so muted? Will the love outshine the yelling?

One of my favorite things you like to do right now is try to knock me over. You are playing, but also testing the waters. When I squat down to your level or sit on the floor, you go as far away as you can, then run at me full speed ahead, and dive into my arms, knocking me back on the floor and smothering me with your hugs. Full of trust and reckless abandon. And, sometimes, a little passive-aggression when you've been upset with me.

You amaze me with your imagination and creativity. Problem-solving is a skill you already excel at. I am in awe of you. I try so hard not to lament your messy/inconvenient experiments and innovations; I don't want to squelch your curiosity. I want you to have the freedom to learn from experience and mistakes in a safe environment. To encourage you, empower you, instill self-worth and confidence. Those are the gifts I most want to give you.

Happy birthday, beautiful baby. I'll love you forever.

Baby Bullets: 2nd Edition

2011-07-29T09:00:00.010-05:00

Baby R likes to dunk her bread in water. Future hot dog eating champ in the making?
S has been having weird dreams about sharks. Wha? She had another one Tuesday night.
Last weekend, S had a fake phone conversation with her best friend's mom, hung up, yelled “Unbelievable!”, stomped upstairs to her bedroom, and slammed the door. Le sigh.
It's been 100 degrees (heat index of 112 at times) for the last few weeks. Our AC was out on Tuesday. We had to fix it immediately. For $700.
Baby R has hit the "I do it!" stage. When I change her diaper, she wants to take it off. She wants to wipe her bum. She wants to close the diaper cream. She wants to put the tabs of the new diaper on. She wants to put her shorts on. All by herself. No helping Mommy. Just her. She does pretty well with putting her shorts on, actually. Though she usually ends up with both legs in one hole. :)
Took S to see "Cars 2" a couple of weeks ago. Her first time to the movie theater! She really enjoyed it, but was ready for a nap by the end. :) It was ok - much more violent than the first one. But had a good message about friendship.
During the thunderstorm a few weeks ago, S said that the thunder was "disgusting." Apparently we need to redefine that word...
Baby R has been asking to use the potty seat. Yay! Not quite there, but interested.

It's a Secret

2011-07-28T09:00:00.000-05:00

Sunday, S was riding around on her Winnie-the-Pooh car that she's much too big for now in the living room. She rolled into the kitchen. I reminded her that toys need to stay in the playroom and she said she was on her way out of town. She was going to visit Aunt J and Uncle K in St. Louis.

When she came back, I asked how her trip was.

"It was good. J & K had some toys they wanted to get rid of, so I brought them home."

"Well, that was nice of them."

"Yeah, and they made me a puzzle." She showed me her Melissa & Doug Rainforest Jigsaw Puzzle.

"Ooh, I like those colors!"

"Yep, they painted it themselves."She set it down and picked up my old Samsung. "And they made me this phone."

"Wow! They are really talented to be able to make that phone for you," I said, suppressing a smile. "So how are they doing?"

She made her concerned face. "Not very good. Both their doggies and their kitty died."

What? "Oh my. How sad. What happened?"

"Well, not really, they thought they were dead, but this guy took them, and then J & K found out and they wanted to kill him."

"What? I don't think that's a very good thing for them to do. I think it would be better for them to call the police."

She looked at me defiantly. "Well, this is my story."

"You're right. Sorry."

"But yeah, they did, they called the police and the firemen, and the police went to the guy's house and got the dogs back, but not the firemen, just the police. But the kitty was still dead."

(She threw a "Seriously?" in there, too, at some point. I really need a built-in recording device in my palm that I can turn on and off discreetly. I always miss the best phrases.)

"Well," I said, "I should probably call them and let them know how sorry I am that all that happened."

"No, you can't call because they are really sad. Nobody can go anywhere because they are all sad. And it's a secret. But I'm going to tell everyone in town." In town?

"I thought it was a secret?"

"It is, but just for you. Not for me."

Lamentations of a Working Mother

2011-07-27T13:06:00.002-05:00

Bright pink chalk handprint on the hip of my black dress pants

Photos and artwork blanket my office

Crying on the way to work after spending a long weekend together

Rushing home over lunch to have a few extra moments with the girls

Constantly recalculating the cost of living and the cost of loving

S says she wishes she was sick so I could stay home with her

At drop-off, she cries and says she wants to go home

She sees things I wouldn't let her see at home

She does things I wouldn't let her do at home

She eats things I wouldn't let her eat at home

Thankful for the care providers, knowing they are great

But nothing is as good as mom

Grabbing a banana and granola bar to eat for breakfast at the office

Needing to workout but not willing to spend another hour away from them

Dreaming of whipping up healthy homemade organic creations

Throwing another frozen pizza/chicken nuggets in the oven for supper

Using food prep time for cuddle and play time instead

Tripping over piles of dirty clothes that spilled out of the hamper

Lamenting the dusty ceiling fan as it spins above me in bed

If only I was at home I could

Have a clean house

Have the laundry done

Have dinner on the table when DH came home at night

Have happy children

Knowing that being home wouldn't solve all those problems

Feeling guilty just the same

.

Clever Girls Collective

2011-07-26T13:47:00.000-05:00

Last week I received notice that I've been accepted to the Clever Girls Collective. Woot! For those of you who may not be familiar with it, the Clever Girls Collective is

a social media agency founded by women who decided to use our combination of traditional marketing experience and knowledge of social network “secret handshakes” for good.

As experienced new media professionals and nationally recognized, award-winning bloggers, we know first-hand what motivates someone to write a post, share love for your product in 140 characters, and Like your brand on Facebook.

Our network of vetted, professional and brand-safe influencers is ready to amplify your message immediately.

You know I'm all about sharing my opinion, so this seemed like a perfect fit for me! I'm excited to see where this road takes me.

Kids Birthday Parties

2011-07-21T09:00:00.002-05:00

I always thought we would keep our kid's parties low-key. I would hear of these insane parties with 100 guests, live ponies and a bounce house and think, "Those parents are CRAZY! And spoiling their kids!"

I used to think my birthday parties were typical for the time. From kindergarten through 4th grade or so, we celebrated my December birthday with kids just coming over to our house. We played a couple of games, I opened presents, and we ate cake. I think that part of it is/was pretty normal. But I never thought about how many kids were there before. Each of those years, I invited the whole class. That was around 20-25 kids. My mom had to corral 25 kids - in her house - for a couple of hours. Insanity!

We are planning S's 4th birthday party. The big question is who to invite. Last year we had a crazy thing happen where every single person we invited actually came to the party. And since the kids were 3 or under, their parents came, too, often with siblings. Which meant that even though she only invited about 8 kids, by the time you added in their families and our families, there were 50 people at this party.

And because Baby R was only 9 months old at the time, she was still taking a morning nap, so I had to schedule the party between naptimes, which meant it overlapped lunch. So we ended up feeding those 50 people hamburgers and hot dogs.

How did something so small turn out so big?

This year, hubs and I are determined to keep it under control. Being able to shift the time a bit will help. But inviting fewer people is clearly the biggest factor. I know, everyone says to only invite the number of kids equivalent to your child's age, so for S's 4th birthday, there should only be 4 kids. That's a great idea in theory. But what do you do when there are kids from preschool, daycare, our friends' kids and neighbors? She sees all of them on a regular basis.

I've come to grips with the large quantity. We have to have the party outside to accommodate them. My fear now is that it will either be record-setting hot next weekend or raining, and then we'll have 50 people in our house. Pray for nice weather...

Baby Bullets

2011-07-20T15:57:00.000-05:00

I'm stealing the idea of a bullet point update from my friend KLZ at Taming Insanity. I'm so behind, I'll never catch up if I try to actually, I don't know, WRITE what we've been up to. But there's so much, bullet points would even be too long, so this is just an installment. (Keep in mind the days referenced are relative. These are notes from the last month or so.)

S yesterday singing: Twinkle twinkle little star, How I wonder what's in my tummy. ?
S kicked the back of my seat while I was driving, and I asked her politely not to. She was making vroom noises, so I asked if she was driving. No, I'm vacuuming with my leg. Of course, you are.
We lost Baby R's blankie for a couple of days. It was NOT good. Luckily she has adopted a second one which she lovingly refers to as "Two."
I had a nightmare that coyotes took Baby R when we were playing in the unfenced back yard. Woke up, terrified. Finally got back to sleep. Then I dreamt they attacked us in the playset. Not a good night's sleep.
This morning S said the thunderstorm must have broken the water on the refrigerator so we needed to call the water helpers.
S playing that she was running a store and had to close up shop for a bit. "If you need anything, just call me, ok? My phone number is 913-69."
This morning Baby R woke up asking to play with the neighbor boy, P. Awwww....
S, driving her Cozy Coupe, put her arm on the back of the seat and turned around so she could back out.
This am S was talking about the tantrum she had last night when I left, and I told her I was sorry she was so upset. She said, "Oh it wasn't you, it was me."
Baby R has started putting things in her "pocket," i.e. down her onesie. So now when I change her, interesting things fall out.
She has also started walking down the stairs. And now can turn doorknobs. Look out!
S asked if I could wash off her drumsticks after she ate, and she could use them to play drums. I've decided maybe we recycle too much.

And there you have it, folks. The first Baby Bullet update! More to come...

Labor

2011-07-19T16:52:00.001-05:00

"Go ahead and get some rest now. You might as well sleep while you can." The nurse smiled and gathered her clipboard on her way out of our spacious birthing room.

"Sweet!" DH leaned back in the recliner and closed his eyes. I shook my head, amused, and tried to relax amid the excitement. The hurried pace of our independent life would soon be replaced with something slower, deliberate, though busy in its own way.

The epidural had taken its effect, and I felt more comfortable, weightless, relaxed than I had in months. Within a few minutes, my heartbeat had slowed, and I was breathing the deep, even breaths of childless sleep.

About an hour later, subconsciously, I noticed the steady beeping of the monitors had changed, and then I was startled fully awake by the nurse rushing in and flipping on the lamp directly above me.

"Are you light-headed? Do you feel ok?" she asked.

"I'm fine," I mumbled. Or at least I was, before you woke me up, I thought to myself.

She slipped the oxygen mask over my face. "Your blood pressure has dropped to 90/40." She increased the saline drip on my IV. "We've got to get that back up." She checked the monitors, looked at her watch, and typed some notes.

I glanced over at DH still sawing logs as the nurse quietly left the room. I figured I'd let him be. There was nothing either of us could do right then.

Feeling like I sounded like Darth Vader with the mask on, I eventually fell back into a light sleep. It wasn't long before the beeps changed again. I turned up my mouth in a slight smile in expectation of an adjustment to the oxygen mask as a couple of nurses raced in. The shock of being flipped on my side and and having a hand unexpectedly - and surprisingly painfully, given the epidural - thrust between my legs caused me to gasp aloud.

"The baby is in distress. We need to check to make sure that the cord isn't around its neck."

My breath caught in my throat, and my heart pounded in my chest. I looked over at DH, blinking back tears. I wanted to call to him, but I knew I wouldn't be able to get the words out. Plus I was enveloped in scrubs; there was no way for him to reach me.

"Your contractions are too intense for the baby. Its oxygen rate dropped dangerously low. Things are ok now. We'll keep a close eye on you. The doctor may have to do a C-section."

A pit formed in my deadened stomach.

The nurses left. I took a few deep breaths and steadied my voice. This time, I woke DH up. We watched the monitor, the peaks and valleys indicating the undulations my uterus made to bring our precious child into the world. There were points that rocketed off the chart, and I was thankful I couldn't feel the contractions associated with them.

The rest of the night was filled with rest punctuated by alarms from the monitors. The doctor arrived. She determined that my blood pressure was not responding to their attempts to raise it, so the epidural would have to be turned off. Lord, give me strength.

She also knew I didn't want a C-section if it could be avoided. She gave me a drug to reduce the intensity of the contractions, hoping they would still be strong enough to birth the baby naturally.

By 6am, I had stalled at 8cm. We decided the safest course of action was surgery.

A whirlwind of prep, fear, additional drugs, surprise and awe rocketed us through the next hour as we welcomed our first child, a healthy baby girl. The cadence of our lives was changed forever.

This week's prompt was to write about a time that rhythm, or a lack thereof, played a role in your life. And don’t use the word “rhythm.” Concrit is always welcome!

Coda

2011-07-15T07:00:00.039-05:00

Emeline tilted her skinny-jean-clad hips toward the wall of glass, watching the 747s approach the orderly runways with seemingly illogical markings. Obviously the pilots had to learn what those meant, but it just looked like sidewalk chalk gone wild to her. She fidgeted impatiently with the cameo locket whose chain perpetually encircled her slender neck. Her twin sister, Jasmine, was coming to visit for the first time since they had both fled home for college. She to the West to major in music history at USC; Jasmine to the East to study at Juilliard.

Emeline wiggled her toes from excitement in her TOMS. They were a parting/good-luck gift from her sister. Emmie loved them. She wasn't one to spend much on clothes; these shoes were by far the most expensive item in her wardrobe. But it was just like Jazz to choose something so perfect for Emmie, without regard to cost and at the same time, with a company that was philanthropic in its own right.

She imagined the look on Jasmine's face when they first saw each other. Emeline had chopped off her long, wavy, blonde hair into a straight bob and dyed it bright red, wearing it in a mussed, bed-head style. Would Jazz even recognize her? Emmie smiled to herself; of course, she would. The connection between their souls was such a tight bond, Emeline believed Jasmine could find her in the middle of Times Square on New Year's Eve.

Emmie's vintage gingham top reflected back at her in the window as she squinted her eyes and tried to figure out which plane was her sister's. The aircraft that were circling above appeared to be tiny models in the sky, but as they approached the runways, they became larger, and she could make out the logos on their tails.

American,
United,
Delta,
United,
United,
American,
Frontier,
American,
United,
Southwest,
Southwest,
Southwest,

Jet Blue.

That must be it. Emeline smiled, unable to contain her joy. She had so many things to tell Jasmine; they had decided to save their limited cell minutes and wait to talk in person this week. Emmie was debating what she would ask Jazz about first when she noticed the Jet Blue plane seemed to be going faster than the others she'd seen land. She looked more closely. The wheels didn't appear to be down. Her heart caught in her throat.

Emeline's hand formed a fist around the pendant she had previously caressed as she watched, horrified. The nose of the plane hit first, the clamor of screeching metal perceptible through the glass, not only as sound, but as physical vibrations. Her fist pounded forward against the window in defiance, breaking the clasp on the necklace as it hammered again and again in syncopation with her screams, willing the catastrophe to end. The body of the plane was next, pitching the tail up and forward before falling back and collapsing as a trail of dominoes, flames erupting in staccato explosions.

Despondent, Emeline felt her body start to give out, and she leaned her forehead against the window for support. Plump tears fell in a cadence down her cheeks as she closed her azure eyes behind her Buddy Holly-style glasses. The muscles in her hand relaxed, suddenly exhausted, and the necklace slid from her grasp. The locket bounced as it hit the industrial carpet and sprung open, revealing aged photos of two towheaded girls. The chain continued it's descent, coming to its final resting place on top of her left shoe.

This week's prompt was to write about your character (or yourself) and a pair of his or her shoes. Those shoes can be real or symbolic, they can hurt or be super comfy but I want to see what they say about the life of the person wearing them. Concrit is always welcome!

Things I Like About Me

2011-07-14T07:00:00.001-05:00

I've seen several tweets and blogs around this week about a link Elena at Ciao Mom has started where we list things we like about ourselves. Those of you who have followed me for awhile are familiar with my insecurities in that area, so I'm always hesitant to do a post about such things, though I find it empowering to do so. I think it's awesome that BlogHer started the Own Your Beauty campaign as that led me to write this and this. And since it's been several months since I've done something in that vein, I thought I would link up with Elena and the other fabulous women who've joined in.

So here's my list:

I like my friendly, outgoing personality.
I like my ability to forgive fairly easily. It's difficult for me to hold a grudge.
I like the color of my hair. Maybe not everything else about my hair - I have a love/hate relationship with the curls/frizz - and sometimes I wish it would stop getting darker, but in general, I like the auburn.
I like that I'm loyal. It takes a lot for me to give up on a relationship.
I love my C-section scars. They are like badges of honor for me. Especially the second one since I knew exactly what I was going to have done to my body, but I did it anyway because I knew it would be worth it.
I like that even though I may not be the best at being a Christian, I make an effort, despite obstacles, to grow in my faith.
I love that I sing and dance with my girls with no regard to how silly I am being. In fact, I like to think that when they are my age, they will look back on their childhood and find that times we danced around the kitchen singing were some of their favorite memories.
I like that I really make an effort to nurture friendships that are important to me. Though I may not be as available as I was before I got married and had munchkins, I try to call, visit and organize get togethers as often as I can.
I like that my calves are still well-toned. Apparently you can't undo 20 years of dancing with 15 years of slacking and gaining weight.
I like that I still have an appetite for learning. I always envisioned myself taking classes for no credit at college just for fun. I did that for awhile, but haven't had the time or money to continue. But then I realized that the world is my classroom. And having kids lets me re-learn a lot of things I'd forgotten.

So there you have it. Now what about you? What do you like about yourself? Link up!

To Blog, Or Not To Blog; That Is the Question

2011-07-13T07:00:00.028-05:00

Today's Working Mommy Wednesday prompt was to explain when I started blogging and why, and if I still blog the same way/for the same reasons.

I have always loved reading. I would devour books as a child, just like my mom. I would re-read my favorites over and over again, hiding under the covers with a flashlight after bedtime eagerly anticipating phrases and scenes. Words have always been fascinating to me - I love to say "Lolita Davidovich" just because it sounds cool. (And I like her as an actress, too.) Spelling and grammar came naturally to me, though I must credit my teachers and phonic reading techniques, too.

Once I was of an age to begin to write stories myself, I dove in with glee. Writing became an integral part of me. So much so that when I became eligible for the advanced honors English class, I declined to enroll in it because there was almost no creative writing element to the curriculum. I ended up minoring in creative writing in college.

After I graduated, I started working full-time and didn't really have a reason to write. I kept a journal, and occasionally jotted down ideas or paragraphs for stories for "someday", but that was it. I found creative outlets in other areas: scrapbooking, card-making, graphic design.

Then I got pregnant with S.

I wanted to chronicle my maternity for posterity, and a friend had found a website where you could upload photos and stats and make diary entries. Cool! So for the next nine months, I did just that. And after S was born, I continued to update it for the first year. At that point, I decided it wasn't really the most appropriate place for us anymore considering it was called "Babysites.com". What was I going to do - keep it running until she was out of high school?

I didn't write anything in cyberspace for a few months, just keeping handwritten notes around. As a New Year's resolution the first of the following year, I decided to open a private account on Blogger, still using it simply to post updates about our lives for ourselves and our family. Over the next few months, I began incorporating more emotion and voice to my posts instead of just updates on daily life. I became more familiar with blogs and joined Mamapedia. I saw that they were accepting submissions for articles and sent in a post. They accepted it!

I hurriedly started a new blog that was open to the public and had pseudonyms to resolve my privacy concerns. At this point I still concentrated on family stuff because I didn't have any followers which was fine with me. I just needed to have a public blog to link to for when I submitted posts. Which I started to do more often.

That fall, I found Kludgy Mom's Back to School/Back to Blogging tutorial and really got into blogging and working at developing a blog others would be interested in. I was kind of fumbling for focus at that point. I still wanted the blog to be about my family, but I wanted to do more with it than just make it a diary. And at the start of the next new year, I found The Red Dress Club. And I felt I'd come full circle. A reason to write other than just to chronicle our lives and occasionally get up on my soapbox.

So that's where I'm at now. Still blogging for the same reason, but letting it encompass all of who I am as a woman, not just a mother.

I Could Have Been On the News

2011-07-12T07:00:00.001-05:00

I literally chuckled to myself at my desk when I read that today's prompt is to talk about an embarrassing moment. My life is the inverse of most people's; it's always embarrassing with occasional normal moments. Where to start? So I'm going to cheat a bit on this one. KLZ and I did a top-10-embarrassing-moments blog swap last year, so I am using one of them today. I've expounded on it a bit here, though.

• • • •

You know how you see news stories and think, "What an idiot? Who would do something so dumb?" This is one of those stories.

After I graduated from college in December '97, a friend of mine got engaged. Her wedding was to be in Portland in February, and I had gotten a plane ticket to fly out the Wednesday before and spend a long weekend helping her with preparations and celebrating.

The Sunday before I was to leave town, I went to bed with a headache. Monday morning I woke up and had a full-blown head cold. But I was in serious denial. You can't fly with a sinus infection, people, you just can't. At least, not without wanting to die. So I did what any delusional person who had spent money she didn't have on a plane ticket she couldn't change.

I took drugs. Lots of them. I tried one brand when I got up at 8am. It didn't put a dent in my symptoms by 10am, so a friend suggested a different cold medicine. I took it. Immediately. By 4pm, I was feeling worse instead of better, so I tried something else. After what felt like 800 hours instead of 8, the workday was over. I slogged out the door into the freezing cold.

You know how "friends don't let friends drive drunk?" Well, they shouldn't let you drive whacked out of your mind on cold medicine either. To make things worse, I had to stop to get gas. (I’m the kinda gal who waits until the light has been on for a few days before filling up. What can I say? I like to live on the edge.)

I pulled into a gas station near home. It was rush hour and the place also did oil changes, so it was crowded. It was killing me to wait my turn; I just wanted to go home so I could get warmed up and sleep.

Finally, I pulled up to the pump, left the car running and started the gas pumping. I engaged the gadget that keeps it flowing, then got back in and closed my eyes for a little catnap in the warmth of my car. (This was before the days of exploding gas stations from static electricity/cell phone use.) After a few minutes, the tank was full again. I opened my groggy eyes, put the car in gear and pulled away.

KA-CHING!

Oh. My. GOD. I looked in my rearview mirror, expecting to see gas spewing out of the stand. Thankfully, they invented an auto-shut off for morons who forget to take the nozzle out of the tank.

Everyone at the station had stopped what they were doing and was staring in my direction, mouths agape. They knew they were witnessing something most people only hear about or see on AFV.

Dumbfounded, I got out of the car, gathered up the hose, thinking, "This isn’t really happening. How much does a new pump handle cost? A thousand dollars? Two? Ten?" As I was trying to figure out how I would pay for to replace it, I saw that I had parked on the hose. So I set down what I had gathered so far, got back in my car, drove forward 6 inches, then got back out to resume my humiliating clean-up.

I hefted my load toward the convenience store, unsure what to say, when an employee met me halfway looking irritated. "I got it," he grumbled.

"I'm so sorry," I said, almost in tears.

He turned and walked away, and I slinked back to my car, spending the whole ride home in complete disbelief.

Rockin' the Baby

2011-07-11T13:07:00.001-05:00

(Click on the icon for the link to her post!)

As a follow up to Shell's fun link up, Rockin' the Bump, she decided to take it to the next step so we could show off our cute baby pics!

My kids are CLEARLY the cutest babies ever, so it was tough to narrow it down to just a few of each of them, but I wanted to spare you the thousands of pics I have of each. Not to mention to incredible ones our professional photog, Miss Rebecca, shot (including those on the masthead here).

Without further ado, here are my fave amateur pics of S:

Happy girl!! Big smiles at 8 wks.

The sitter sent this to me at work. I was having a tough time going back to work after maternity leave.

Getting ready to go for a walk with Mama!

This one always makes me laugh because I think she looks like a pirate with that headband on.

And of course, not to be outdone, here are some pics of Baby R:


Brand new - buckled in for the car ride home from the hospital.

Our little princess's first Christmas!

Big smiles at 8 weeks, just like her sis.

Checking out her first parade on the 4th of July.

Slow Down and Breathe

2011-07-06T11:16:00.000-05:00

We had a fantastic time in St. Louis for our Fourth of July, but now I'm playing catchup, so I'm going to recycle a post that some of you may have missed. It was featured on Studio30 Plus a couple of weeks ago. Hope you enjoy it!

• • • • • • • • •

She runs away from me, squealing, as I try to put her Pull-Up on.

"S, come here now!"

Frustrated, I chase her down and thread her legs through the night-night diaper as we call it.

"What book do you want to read?"

Still laughing, she starts baby talking to be silly.

"S, choose a book or we aren't reading one!" My pulse is racing by this point.

"Ok, ok. Umm, this one."

Inwardly I groan. "Hop on Pop" is longer than what I have time for tonight. I'm supposed to meet the neighbor out front in 10 minutes to go for a walk. I need to start exercising again and finding a partner to walk with is a huge step in the right direction.

"All right." I begin reading quickly and skip a few words here and there.

S interrupts me, "Why did they fall off the wall?"

"I don't know, honey." I continue reading, and S continues peppering me with questions. "Let's just finish the story, ok?"

The day's unfinished tasks scroll through my mind. Finally, the book is over. I turn off the light and turn on her music. Currently, she's fond of listening to Journey's Greatest Hits. I lie down with her for two songs, our agreed upon timeframe.

"Let's snuggle," she says, wiggling over to me.

"Ok," I say, a bit surprised. Lately she's more interested in Daddy than me.

She puts her arm around my neck. "I love you, Mama."

My heart melts a little, the beat slows. "I love you, too, baby. So, so much."

"Don't Stop Believin'" ends. The iPod shuffles. "Who's Crying Now" starts. Lying still, I decide to just go for the walk and not worry about the laundry tonight.

"Mama?"

"Mmm-hmm?"

A long pause. "I..."

"What is it, baby?"

"I really love you."

"Aw, honey, I really love you, too."

A small, three-year-old hand reaches for mine in the dusk. I remind myself to savor these fleeting moments. I breathe in her freshly-washed hair, feel her soft fingers tracing the shape of my hand as I used to do to my mother. I knew Mom's hands as well as my own and wonder if S will remember mine when she has a child someday.

The second song ends. I kiss S on the forehead, and start to get up.

"Mama, could you please stay til I fall asleep?"

"Of course, baby."

The walk will have to wait.

Wordless Wednesday

2011-06-29T09:38:00.004-05:00

What says "summer" better than this?

This Little Light of Mine

2011-06-26T13:45:00.000-05:00

At church they are starting a series about the sermon on the mount. Today we talked about how God is light and we are supposed to let that light shine, like the old gospel hymn says.

Fromt he Scripture:
John 8:12 "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life."

Matthew 5:14-16 "You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone else in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven."

What does it mean to let our light shine?

2 Corinthians 5:20 "We are therefore Christ's ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us."

James 2:17 "Faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead."

I've heard preachings on this concept many times. I always felt like this was an all or nothing concept. There are the real Christians - the ones who are involved with the church, people you can count on to pray for you, though imperfect, really seem to have their walk with God under control. Those people are the ones God wants to let their light shine. They are the reflection of God that He wants the world to see.

And then there's me, and others like me. Those of us who are better at some things than others. I don't really have it together, and I'm not a good example of a Christian. I lose my temper too often and swear too much and pray too little. God doesn't want me to reflect Him. At least not yet. Not until I get it down. I'm still a work in progress.

But today, the pastor said something that shattered that idea. He said, what if God's light isn't a spotlight shining in the darkness? Maybe it's like a disco ball with many different hues and shapes. God created us differently, so it makes sense that we would reflect him differently. We can't all be outspoken and called to be pastors. Maybe the world would be a better place if we all just learned to dance together under the disco ball. Some people may shine a little light and some people may shine a big light. We all need to work on our light in our own way.

And of course that makes sense. Even the real Christians are flawed, as are all people. It's hard to look past my own flaws because I have so many of them. I need to focus on the light I do have, nurture and cultivate it, shine it with all my might. And as the rest of the sermon said, be a peacemaker. God can't physically be here, so he wants us to be His hands and feet. The moment we recognize God as our Father, we become a light to someone else. I need to remember that, and really make my light count.

Featured on Studio30 Plus!

2011-06-23T10:14:00.000-05:00

I have to say that when Studio30 Plus tweeted me a couple of weeks ago and asked if I wanted to be one of their featured writers, I was a little (A LOT) taken aback. I mean, I love writing, and I think some of my stuff turns out ok, but to have something as huge as S30P take an interest in me? Completely unexpected.

Surprisingly, I got a huge creative boost and felt inspired to write three different posts about three different subjects as potential submissions. But, nothing was really coming together the way I wanted. Sigh. The deadline was approaching, and I had zero results.

As usual, my kids came to my rescue. Lately I've been getting to caught up in the "need to do this, need to do that" part of life. And S reminded me that what I need to do is Slow Down and Breathe. So please jump over and check out the post before Studio30 Plus realizes I'm not worthy of being featured!

Perspective

2011-06-21T17:16:00.000-05:00

I started taking dance lessons in August, 1980. Back then, public smoking hadn't been banned yet; there were ashtrays at the end of the aisles in the grocery store. No one wore helmets or pads when they rode their bikes. Pay phones were on every corner. We had one television (without a remote) and only four channels to choose from.

And in the car? Kids didn't wear seat belts or even have to sit in the back seat.

A five-year-old's perspective through the windshield is quite different from that of an adult. When sitting correctly (which, let's be honest, I rarely did), the dashboard prevented me from seeing cars in front of us. My view was at an upward trajectory. I saw the stoplights, and beyond them, cerulean skies with cotton candy clouds. Gabled rooftops and leafy tree branches occasionally passed by as well. I would reach my fingertips up to the open window and feel the soggy air envelope my skin as it rushed by.

If When we were running late to dance class, or I was being stubborn/whiny about putting on my leotard and tights before we left the house, I would change after we got to the studio. Wearing shorts, the backs of my twiggy, pale thighs would stick to the vinyl seats of our white Chevy, and I could feel the perspiration form at the nape of my neck and slither down my back. The 10-15 minute ride felt like it took forever in that heat, and I would eagerly anticipate seeing the landmark that told me we were almost there.

Halfway down the last block before we got to the studio there was a tree. A pine or evergreen of some sort. It was uneven at best. At the top, instead of having the conventional Christmas-tree, single, pointed top, it made a "V". That "V" was my sign. The sign that came to stand for joy, escape, competition, discipline, elation and freedom being around the next corner.

For six years, several times a week, I saw that tree. Then, when I was 11, the dance studio owner's granddaughter hung herself. That was the last of a string of reasons my parents felt it was best that we move to a different studio. I no longer had occasion to traverse the road that passed my inspirational sign.

The first time I drove by that tree after leaving the dance studio was about twenty years later when I got a job in that part of town. I was taller, just like that tree; I had to lean over the steering wheel, the seat belt resisting against my shoulder, to catch a glimpse of it. Over the years, it had grown and become even more scraggly. It's attempts to thrive had been squashed at every turn. A section of branches was cut out of one side to accommodate the power lines that it had spread into. Summer microbursts had ripped limbs away. Winter ice storms had bent and cracked it so it no longer reached out and up, but down and around.

But, at the tip, it still had that "V." It continues to reflect my life, now as a symbol of continuity and perseverance. I drive past it every workday. Whenever I'm running late or irritated by traffic, for one moment, when I pass the tree, I pause and look up, and regain my perspective.

This post was written in response to a prompt from The Red Dress Club: "The first time I ________-ed after _________-ing."

My First Time

2011-06-20T17:01:00.000-05:00

I was afraid to say where I was going. And a little nervous when I got there. Felt a bit like an online-dating virgin would have ten years ago.

I was a few minutes late when I walked into the restaurant. There was a long table with about 15 women seated at it. I debated waiting to ask the server or walking straight over to the table. What was the worst that could happen? If it wasn't the right group, no one there knew me.

I took a deep breath and walked toward them. "Hi, is this the KCBlog group?"

• • • • •

To be honest, I had heard about people meeting IRL, but didn't entirely understand the allure. Though it would be fun to chat it up with a couple of people I know through blogs and Twitter, in general, I like the anonymity of the Internet. And going to BlogHer or TypeA would be fun, but I can't afford to do anything like that right now, so it didn't seem like anything to worry about.

Then a few weeks ago, a woman I used to work with who has a money-saving blog told me about a group of local bloggers who were getting together.

I had mixed emotions about going. On the one hand, I was looking forward to seeing ex-coworker again. On the other, I didn't know any of these other people, or their blogs, so what was that going to be like? Were they all going to be full-time bloggers with way more experience and talent than me? Were they going to be talking about stuff I didn't understand? Were they going to be rich housewives with time on their hands I couldn't relate to?

It ended up being a lot of fun. One of the girls who organized it explained that she was interested in setting up a support group so we could help drive traffic to each other's sides, give each other feedback, and help each other with questions. And it's exposed me to a whole bunch of blogs I probably wouldn't have found on my own. We plan to meet once a month, and in July, I'll go without all the nervousness that goes with the first time.

Raising a Savvy Eater

2011-06-16T10:55:00.000-05:00

Broccoli from our garden

When I was a kid, we were a meat and potatoes family. We also had a garden with fresh fruits and vegetables in the summer. That we loaded down with butter, sour cream and other yummy stuff. Then when I was 14, my dad had his first heart attack. Our diet changed dramatically. So much so that it literally divides my childhood in half in my memories. We started eating chicken and fish, very little red meat. And no more butter or salt. Everything was plain.

I was a bit of a picky eater and not a big fan of condiments, so plain was ok with me. And since 14 was around the time I started to really learn how to cook for myself, that’s how I learned to make meals. So for the next 15 years, I mostly ate bland, repetitive food, rarely venturing outside my comfort zone. And since I was single, I ate A LOT of frozen, processed foods.

Then I got married. And my poor husband was not loving my cooking. But his solution was to go to the opposite extreme – Hamburger Helper was a staple. I started trying new recipes to meet him in the middle. I looked for quick and easy things that wouldn’t be excessively fattening. It wasn’t until we had our first child that I really started thinking about WHAT we were eating. I realized most of what we ate wasn’t really good for us. It may have been low-fat or low-cal, but it was full of additives, chemicals and who knows what else.

I decided to make our baby food from scratch. It was so easy! And I wanted our daughter to get to try as many different foods as possible, so I bought things for her that I never bought for us before, like mango and avocado. Because of that, she’s been very good about eating a variety of food.

Now that she’s 3.5 and has an opinion that she likes to share with everyone (just like her mama!), she will sometimes say she doesn’t want something. I don’t force her to eat anything, but I do ask her to try everything on her plate each time. I tell her that her taste buds change every day, so something she may not have liked yesterday, she could like today. And I remind her of her favorite foods and what she would be missing if she had never tried them. Most of the time, she tries something and she likes it. And that encourages her to try more new things.

Of course, now that she’s been introduced to sugar, she often wants candy. I don’t oppose it, though I try to limit the kinds that have excessive dyes. I don’t want her to think that she can’t have it, I just want her to understand that it’s important to eat mostly fruits and vegetables, and teach her to make smart choices about treats.

Love Is Patient

2011-06-14T14:13:00.000-05:00

When I left home for college, I moved 600 miles away. I left everything that was comfortable and familiar. My parents. My sisters. My friends.

And my boyfriend.

I didn't want a long distance relationship. I had seen a friend who had tried that, and it had ended in disaster. Plus I wanted to break out of expectations that had cradled me, find out if I had what it took to be on my own and find contentment. I knew I wouldn't be able to do that if I had a safety net that tethered me to my old self.

My ex and I survived the breakup. The distance actually made us better friends.

Fast forward eight years. I was back in Kansas City and finally at a stage in my life where I felt confident about who I was. Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. I knew what I wanted in a husband, and I was keeping an eye out for him without being on the hunt. It was a liberating feeling.

My old boyfriend and I were still close friends. Actually, closer than we had ever been. We spent a lot of time together and spoke on the phone at least once a day. Gradually that summer I could sense that his intentions were on a different level than mine. I tried to back off a little bit. He said he wanted us to try dating again. I was shocked. Perplexed. Confused. Uncertain.

I told him I needed to think about it.

He was patient. He was kind. He was protective, trusting, hopeful and persevering.

A couple of days later while we were hanging out watching TV together, I was lying on the couch. He sat down, put my head in his lap, and stroked my hair. This man who wore bravado every day and felt awkward hugging family and friends let down his guard. Let his love flow through his fingertips. Let me begin to feel love for him in return.

And in that moment, I knew we would spend the rest of our lives together.

This post was written in response to a prompt from The Red Dress Club: "This week we would like you to write about how the show of affection has played a part in your memory."

Rockin' The Bump

2011-06-14T06:54:00.003-05:00

Shell at Things I Can't Say thought it would be fun to post pics of our preggo bellies. Too fun! I was digging through ones that were about four years old and found these:

Me with two girlfriends who were due within weeks of me.

Me in the nursery/spare bedroom. I think I was 36 weeks here?

Dad and me comparing belly sizes the day I went in to be induced.

And not to be left out, of course I had to find a few from about a year and a half ago:

S and me on Halloween. My bump is sort of camouflaged here.

Dad and I had to reenact our belly pic. I think I won this round!

Check out the others in the link-up on Shell's site!

My First Vlog

2011-06-13T10:50:00.000-05:00

**I was so nervous about this, that I got the dates wrong and missed the link up for this last week! Aack! I'm going to try to get one done for this week, too, but wanted to post this anyway since it's been sitting in my queue waiting to post. I'll get it together next time...

Uh, yeah, that's what I said, vlog, people. Vlog. Y-to the-IKES!

First, I just want to say that I'm not excited to be in front of the camera when I am all gussied up, much less at the end of a long day when I'm trying to be quiet so I don't wake up the kids. So while I'm quite positive I need some con crit, save it for the next one, k? I'm just proud of myself for doing it at all at this point.

Second, I know nothing about webcams, video editing or formatting for blog use! Kudos to Seth from iRockMyMac who helped me on Twitter @irockmymac to figure out how to upload the dang thing.

Jessica at My Time As a Mom started this vlog meme with Elena from Mommy is in Timeout and Kate from Mommy Monologues, so I thought, why not? I haven't tried anything new on here for awhile. Let's give it a shot. Um, clearly I had a momentary lapse of sanity due to points one and two above. Oh well, right?

So without further adieu, I present to you my first vlog based on the prompt, how I met my spouse.

Check out the other links, too!

Non-Bloggers Just Don't Understand

2011-06-10T15:01:00.000-05:00

So I was Tweeting with @DonutsMama and @suitcasetricks about their entry in @fourplusanangel 's #TwitterTwin contest and @DonutsMama mentioned that her family thought she was crazy. I told her DH thinks I'm weird when I talk about my blog/Twitter friends. And THEN @DonutsMama said this:

Ok, what's the first thing that pops into your head when you see that? Well, if you're in your late thirties like me, it's Will Smith, baby. (If you are crazy and don't remember that song, here's a link to it.)

Then I thought of @KelleysBreakRm and how she does awesome song parodies - she even did a Will Smith (Hottie McToddie!) one recently - The Fresh Prince of Bel Air theme song which of course ROCKED. So I said I was considering doing one myself. Then @bellebeandog jumped on board and encouraged the idea (as did Kelley!). I jumped in with gusto! And then I remembered how long that song is. So I only did half of it. (You'll thank me for that later.)

So without further ado, I present to you, "Non-Bloggers Just Don't Understand."

You know people are the same
No matter time nor place.
They don't understand that bloggers
Play for high stakes!
So to Tweeters and bloggers all across the land
There's no need to argue,
Non-bloggers just don't understand.

Oh-kay, here's the situation:
My family went away on a week's vacation, and
I brought my iTouch so I could Tweet.
Would they mind?
Umm, well, of course not.
I'll just Tweet for a little while
We're in California - Tweet about style!
And maybe bring my laptop to Hollywood.
Well, maybe I shouldn't...
Yeah, of course I should!

Pay attention, here's the thick of the plot:
My family asked me to get offline - I think not!
Just last week, on the Twitter I had heard about
A cool stat program I needed to join that's called Klout.
It's the latest term I've learned in the Twitterverse.
Tried to get a handle on the Blogosphere first.
Gigi from Kludgy Mom started me on my course
With a B2B program I finished without remorse!
Then I learned about SEO from Aunt Becky -
John Meyer must admit she's not your average mommy!
Support in the blogger world is unparalleled:
Eli Rose Social? My hand they have held!
SITS Girls, Theta Mom, Mamaped - ia,
Studio 30 Plus, BlogHer, TRDC! Uh!

Not to mention all the fun I have with my Tweeps!
One I know has an avi that looks like a sheep!
There's Liz, Kris and Shell, Angie and Lori,
Rachel, Jen and D, and of course, KLZ!
Not to mention Cheryl, Nichole and Katie,
Tim, Erin, Alex, and then there's Natalie.
Jen, Sherry, Kelley; Julia and Yulia.
Wait, hold the phone - did you say Julia Goulia?
No, don't be ridiculous! These people aren't fake!
They're funny and witty and their tweets take the cake!
Some I've grown to know so well it seems like they're kin.
Jessica says some of them even look like twins!
I'd name more, but I must pay some attention
To my fam I'm with since we're on vacation.

It was time to head home, back to KC,
Had the windows down - "Road trip!" - nice and breezy.
Instead of family vacation memories,
The thoughts in my head were re: my online peeps.
I found myself laughing about a tweet or story
That I read on a blog, a forum or a linky.
I 'd tell my hubby and my kids and they would say,
"OK, but you don't really KNOW them anyway."
I tried to speak, I said, "I want to plead my case!"
But my hubby and my kids just made a weird face.
That was a hard ride home, I don't know how I survived it.
The kids just laughed while my husband was driving.

Well, people are the same
No matter time nor place,
So to Tweeters and bloggers all across the land
Take it from me,
Non-bloggers just don't understand.

Invisible Woman

2011-06-09T14:53:00.001-05:00

Sometimes I feel like I could disappear, and no one would notice.

At work this week, a colleague asked if he should make a phone call to a vendor I was having trouble with. I said no. He said he didn't mind. I explained why I didn't want him to make the call. I specifically went of my way to iterate how important it was to me for him NOT to make the call. Less than five minutes after I left his desk, he made the call.

I felt myself beginning to fade...

Last night my summer volleyball league started, the only extra-curricular activity I'm partaking in this year since we are trying to save money. I had told DH several weeks ago when the start date was. I sent him an email on Monday outlining the activities for the week for the whole family - including my volleyball date and time. Yesterday he called and asked when I would be home from work because he needed to go get the meat for a catering job he's doing this weekend. I reminded him that I would be home for a few minutes before volleyball, but then I wouldn't be back until after the girls were in bed. He said he didn't know I had volleyball that night, that I had never told him about it, and he was annoyed with me.

Fading...

This morning I was trying to get the girls ready for the day, and I asked S to put her clothes on. I handed her underwear to her while we were still in my bedroom. I finished getting dressed and got Baby R ready, and saw S still nude, lying on my bed.

Fading...

I asked her to put her underwear on again. We headed downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast. She started chasing her sister around the house. I asked her to stop running. She kept going.

Fading...

I finally had to physically take hold of her to get her to stop, and again asked her to put her underwear on, handing her a dress to wear as well. I calmly told her if she didn't get dressed and sit down, she wouldn't get to have breakfast before we left. She ignored me again.

Fading...

No breakfast. She threw a tantrum, naked. I threw a tantrum.

Gone

.

Rapture

2011-06-08T07:39:00.000-05:00

I seem to inadvertently have a Blondie theme going this week!

Today, I'm lucky enough to have a guest post over at The Lazy Christian again. Rachel is on vaca (jealous!), so I offered to keep an eye on the place while she's gone. Would you pretty please go by and say hi? One of the things I love about Rachel is that she's a regular gal like me, just trying to get through this crazy life. She doesn't have all the answers, she's not perfect, and she's not afraid to put that out there. While you're visiting her site, roam around a bit. Thanks!

Call Me

2011-06-06T21:10:00.000-05:00

My parents flipped houses when I was growing up; I lived in 4 places before starting school. Obviously I don't remember much from those homes since I was so young, though I suppose it's surprising how much I DO remember. For example, the backyard at the house on Witham was HUGE. At least, to me. Full of trees that seemed to touch the sky, whose foliage created a cool canopy from the oppressive humidity of summer in Kansas City. There was a path worn in the grass that wove through those monoliths, and I would push my little sister along it in the wheelbarrow, eliciting excited squeals from her and encouraging my already active imagination to envision a jungle one day, a deserted island the next.

Autumn came, and we went mushroom picking with my dad and his friend and ate the harvest for supper. After stalling as long as possible, we kids were sent to bed while the adults continued to chat. That night, I flipped over the railing of my top bunk, rolled across the hardwood floor and smacked my face into the avocado-green dresser, breaking my nose. I told my parents my sister was having a bad dream, so I'd reached down to hold her hand and lost my balance. It would be years before I came clean; I had heard my parents talking about me, and I was actually leaning as far as I could toward the door so I could better hear what they were saying!

The next summer, we were living in a house on Marty. The little girl next door showed me how to do a cartwheel. I always thought "cartwheel" was a weird word; I pictured it in its literal sense. I also think that was the house we lived in where a man down the street smoked a pipe. I can envision his recliner and floor-stand ashtray with a pipe rack, the sweet smell of tobacco permeating the room. That summer I began to question why I had to go to bed when it wasn't dark out yet. I remember the sticky heat that didn't dissipate even after the sun did eventually go down - the last house we lived in that didn't have central air conditioning. Sleeping with the windows open in the hope that a small breeze might break through the thick blanket of humidity.

When I was 5, and it was time for me to start kindergarten, my parents moved us to the top school district in our area. It was in that house that I learned to roller skate in the kitchen, sliced open my finger with a box cutter while my parents wallpapered my bedroom, and got my first pet - an adorable runt mutt I named Scruffy. That was also where my sister and I bonded over being mad at our parents by talking to each other through our closet walls, having the chicken pox over Christmas and creating our own language. And where I first remember learning our phone number.

My family moved five more times before I graduated from high school - all in the same school district - once just three houses down the street from where we were currently living. Then I went away to college and lived in the dorm, then the sorority house where I switched rooms each semester. Once I was out of school, I lived with a girlfriend in an apartment, and then a duplex with two guy friends before DH and I got married and lived in his house. Then we moved to our home we live in now. At each of these places, I had a new phone number I had to learn.

The numbers blend together after awhile. Several of the prefixes were the same. But the one from my childhood I still know by heart? The first one I learned when I was 5.

This post was inspired by the prompt, "We want to know what, from your childhood, do you still know by heart?" from The Red Dress Club.

Love Trumps Everything

2011-06-01T10:39:00.000-05:00

So Mad Woman had a baby and was kind enough to let me hang out at her place today so she could focus on resting and loving on the Dude's new baby brother! (I may or may not have been chatting with her on Twitter the last couple of days during this resting time. People, if you have kids, as much as you adore maternity leave, you know you need a link to the outside world and adult conversation.)

Anyway, all this talk of cute babies got me to pondering our baby factory and how much longer it will be open, so the post I wrote for her is about that and called "Love Trumps Everything." Check it out!

Commencement

2011-05-31T22:37:00.001-05:00

Better late than never, right? Haven't done a RemembeRED post for awhile, and haven't even posted much lately, but squeaked this one in under the wire.

It's funny, you spend the first 18 years of your life with one goal - to graduate. You'd think the ceremony would be seared into my memory from start to finish. Yet, I have no idea who gave our commencement speech. I can't remember what I wore. I know we were able to hold the ceremony outside at the stadium which was a relief since an indoor ceremony restricted the number of people you could invite to 4.

I remember decorating our cars, and I, the nerdiest of the bunch - accidentally left the "U" out of my painstakingly crafted painting on a friend's passenger window so it read, "1993 GRADATE." She was so pissed. She had to drive around with the window down all day to hide it.

I remember the three folding chairs draped in white with a single red rose delicately placed on each. Mini-memorials to the students who had passed away that year; one from leukemia, one from a bizarre bicycle accident in Germany (convinced me that helmets weren't such a lame idea), and one in a tragic car wreck during lunch hour.

I remember it was windy. My hat was strategically bobby-pinned to my head to keep it from blowing away while also allowing my monstrous bangs to show. I wanted to toss my mortar board in the air in the traditional, free-spirited, Mary-Tyler-Moore sort of way, but I was afraid I would lose it amongst the 500 others that were thrown. I half-heartedly flipped it up and kept my eyes glued to it as it descended so I could recover it quickly. So telling of my personality then; desire to be cavalier, but restrained in action.

I remember the after party: tearing up while watching the Senior Video, the magician taking my friend's watch as part of a trick, not winning a prize even though 450 were given out to 500 kids over the course of the night.

I remember waiting for my friend's dad to pick us up the next morning, the sunrise highlighting her blonde perm. She still looked gorgeous after being up all night.

I have memories of the pictures that we took that night, though I don't really remember the actions as they took place. False memories, like the stories you heard about yourself as a small child that were repeated so often you think you remember the events though you don't really.

Snapshots, moments of the day that I can recall, but not much overall when you think about it. Except for one thing. The strange mix of emotions that I felt. I was excited to be done with school as I was after each final day, but also nervous and apprehensive about starting a new chapter of my life. I was supposed to be an adult now, but I felt like an awkward preteen. I still feel that way 20 years later! I was sad to say goodbye to the familiarity of being in the same school district for my entire educational career thus far, but relished the freedom of a future of flexible scheduling and fewer rules. I was proud of my accomplishment, and thankful for the opportunity. Most of all, I was relieved to be released of the (mostly self-imposed I later realized) persona I had maintained for so long. Free to "find myself," meet new people and start over.

Graduation: resolution of childhood, commencement of life.

This week we asked you to think about graduation. It didn't have to be yours and it didn't have to be high school. It does have to be non-fiction - it's memoir.

The One Where Our 3YO Threw Up the Devil Horns.... At Church

2011-05-16T16:27:00.000-05:00

Baby R has been growing by leaps and bounds lately. She started climbing up on the sofa the week before Easter, I just forgot to mention it in my last post. She also started saying, "K." So conversations with her now go like this:

"Baby R, are you hungry? Do you want to eat?"

"Uh-huh!"

"Please don't put your fingers in your milk."

"K."

She makes the sign for "sleep" and says, "Seeeeep."

"Baby R, are you ready for your nap?'

"No!"

Then she said her first three-word sentence: "I want cake." That's my girl. She said it at DH's bday celebration which was the Saturday after I got sick. I had started to feel better by my last post, but by that Friday night, I could tell I was getting an ear infection. I asked him if we could reschedule. He suggested asking his mom if we could have it at her house. That was a huge relief. At 3am, the pain in my ear was so excruciating, it woke me up. About 15 minutes later, S woke up and had a big tantrum. It was awesome.

Saturday, we picked up a store-bought cake and went to DH's mom's. I ended up going to urgent care after and getting a Z-pac. Hallelujah! Poor hubs - a lame bday, that's for sure.

Sunday, Baby R started pulling on her ear. Sigh. Luckily she made it through the night ok, and I took her to the ped Monday morning. Ear infection for her, too. :(

The next weekend was Mother's Day. I left DH's family's get together up to him and his sister. Which resulted in it being at our house on Saturday afternoon. Which was fantastic since we've been sick for the last month so I hadn't cleaned. And I didn't find out until Thursday night. And I had tickets to the ballet Friday night. Which meant I only had Saturday to clean like a mad woman.

Sunday we picked up my parents and met my sister and BIL for brunch in a suburb about halfway between our house and my BIL's family. It was nice, but the girls were antsy after the 45 minute car ride, so I spent most of the morning chasing them around. So Mother's Day weekend was pretty much just exhausting.

One day last week it was raining when we got in the van. I turned the rear wiper on, and S noticed it for the first time. "Mom, you have TWO wipers? That's genius!"

Last Thursday I got home from work and Baby R had a black eye. DH said there was some discrepancy as to how she had gotten it - whether she had fallen on her own or had a little help from big sister - but she'd fallen into the corner of one of the desk drawers in the kitchen. Poor baby!

Friday night was S's preschool Spring Show. The teacher said they didn't have to dress up, but I thought S might want to. When she got home that day, I asked her if she wanted to change out of her shorts jumper into one of her dresses. She didn't. It had gotten cold, so I suggested at least changing into some long pants. Nope. She just wanted to wear her winter coat (not her spring one that would have been sufficient). She was wearing one pink sock and one white sock, and shoes on the wrong feet. I asked if she might be more comfortable if she put her shoes on correctly. She liked them that way. So freaking cute.

So we went to the show. All the grandparents came as well as my older sister. The kids counted, did an alphabet song, a colors song and then played a song on the bells. Then they did a little play and we watched a slide show of photos from the year (tears!). It finished with getting little caps and diplomas and having a cookie cake. So fun!

My BFF since 4th grade is her teacher and she is a-ma-zing. Here are a couple of pictures of projects they did this year:

Dragon for Chinese New Year

Piggy Bank from Mini Water Bottle

Mother's Day Gift: "Flower" Handprints on Bendy Straws

Yesterday, S and I went to our church for the first time in about six weeks since we've been sick and spent Easter at my sister's. We were singing during worship time and, as usual, she was dancing around. Then all of a sudden, I realized she was holding up her little fists with her pointer and pinky fingers out like Daddy had shown her to rock out. We've never referred to to it as "throwing up the devil horns" to her, but all I could think was, "Please don't let anyone else think that's what it means!"

Friendship in a Bottle

2011-05-10T16:22:00.000-05:00

When I was a kid, we didn't go on vacations. Don't get me wrong - we took trips every year. My grandma lived in Manitoba, so we went to visit her once or twice a year. And when I got older, we went out of town to dance competitions for me, band competitions for my sister and occasionally accompanied my mom on work trips. There's only one time I can think of that we went on a trip that had no purpose other than just to relax. I was about five. We went to Arkansas, and the hotel we checked into had bed bugs and our car broke down on a Sunday (back when NOTHING was open on Sundays). So when one of my best friends asked me if I wanted to go skiing with her family over spring break my junior year of high school, I was freaking ecstatic to go on a REAL vacation!

Another of our best friends, E, was headed to California for spring break. She was originally from there and was headed back to visit family and friends. She and I made a deal that I would bring back some snow for her, and she would bring back some sand for me. A silly idea, but one we both followed through on. I carefully kept my cup of snow from spilling on the ten-hour drive from Keystone to Kansas City, though it had melted long before we had passed the "Leaving Colorful Colorado" sign.

Back home, E and I got together to talk about about our trips and trade souvenirs. I clearly got the better end of the deal since the sand didn't melt. For awhile, I just kept the beige crystals in the Ziploc bag she'd used to transport it home on the plane. Then I found an old, empty liquor bottle my parents, who rarely drink, had kept because the glass was cut in a beautiful pattern. I filled it up with the sand and put it on my vanity in my bedroom.

It stayed there, or on my chest of drawers, for the next 3.5 years until I moved away to college. (That spring break trip to go skiing? Made me fall in love with the Rocky Mountains. I ended up going to Colorado State. And not skiing once while I was there since I was a poor college kid. But I digress...)

On moving day, I had to cram everything I needed for 9 months into my blue '88 Oldsmobile Cutlass and leave room for Dad and me in the front. Only the necessities could come with me. I hemmed and hawed, changing my mind about what could stay and what could go many times. I expected some homesickness so I wanted to take photos and memorabilia, as well as stationery to write letters (I didn't know what email was quite yet). The bottle of sand made the cut. I used it as a door-stopper in the dorms, and later, hung leis and beads on it in the sorority house.

By now, E had decided to move back to California. We still talked on the phone whenever we had extra minutes on our phone cards, and wrote letters and emails to each other, though the frequency lessened with time.

When I left Ft. Collins and came back to Kansas City for a job, the sand bottle traveled back with me. It returned to it's original home on the vanity in my old bedroom while I stayed with my parents for a few months until I could afford to move into an apartment. There, it was useful again as a doorstop. The next year, I moved into a duplex, and it managed to survive my single life in a house with two boys and lots of parties.

A month or two before DH and I got married, we moved my stuff into his house. By then the bottle of sand was a part of me. I didn't even think about it anymore; it was just always there. We had a tiny house; the space on shelves and dressers was limited, so I defaulted to using the bottle as a doorstop again. DH tripped on it repeatedly, and finally asked me to move it. I put it in the basement with the majority of our belongings for decorating the bigger house we would move into "someday."

Someday came almost two years ago. We unpacked, and I saw that bottle of sand. Like E, though I hadn't seen it in a long time, I hadn't forgotten about it. It returned to my life as any old friend does, as though it had never left.