We should all be so lucky.

A little over a month ago we moved into the new place. The transition has been easy for the most part. The kids have adapted well to the neighborhood kids and we finally brought Moose home from the in-law's. I've made new friends and inched closer to knocking a few more things off my 30x30. Just a fair warning, this will be photo heavy.

I know Mama Kat requested our summer thus far in pictures, but I obviously need to get some things out of my head as well. Aren't you all the LUCKIEST??? I'm pretty sure I'm breaking all the rules this post. Summer from my kid's point of view... summer in pictures... pretty sure she asked for 5 pictures, it's gonna be more than that. I might break the internet this go around.

One of the first days we were here, two of the neighborhood kids introduced themselves and since then Logan's been pretty much inseparable from them. For the most part. They're easily 2-4 years older than him, so he doesn't quite understand yet why I won't let him go alone up the stairs without an adult to see if they're home. We've had a few incidents already where I've wanted to snatch him inside, but alas, I will not be THAT Mom. Where our last place had a kid or two within a 5 minute walk (big neighborhood, LOTS of the original residents from 30+ years ago, meaning most kids are moved out and on their own elsewhere), our new place has 3 kids Lo can play with just in our building. I'm content with this for now.

Another perk of our community has been the pool. Lillie likes to use the pool for relaxation purposes. She's not picky as to who holds her, just so long as they don't care not having full use of their biceps the next day. Both kids are fishes now. Not yet confident enough to take the swimmies off, but confident enough to jump off the diving board or edge of the pool and going under for a second. Baby steps.

My Boy and his "Gamma" have birthdays 3 days apart, which is super convenient... with the exception of the fire hazard 5 additional candles adds. Because my baby is now 5. FIVE YEARS OLD, Y'ALL. I die.

Little Honey Badger is a big fan of having so much light in the playroom. Lo likes it for early morning Lego building and Star Wars Coloring Book sessions. It's exactly where I found him this morning, quietly coloring after days of chaos (to be explained in *hopefully* tomorrow's post.) My favorite part is the closet (not pictured THANK GOD) where I can literally sweep the toys into the closet at the end of the day if I'm not feeling OCD.

And then he turned 5 years old 3 days after his Gamma's birthday party and I died. I DIED. Why are your limbs so long, BOY? Why do you look so OLD? How is it possible that you've left me hyperventilating in the both the Courthouse as I retrieve your birth certificate 5 years late AND in the Board of Educations registration center because OH. MY. GOD. you are five. FIVE. And they want me to explain health concerns and proof of vaccinations and I don't know how to explain your previous pre-k experiences because I live purposefully blissfully ignorant to keep me from panicking about moments just like this one and OH MY GOD WHERE DID THE LAST FIVE YEARS GO? I die.

I hung up some pictures. Like what I did there? Panicked momentarily and changed the subject? I'm getting good at that one. Anywho. I like the way the kids personalities are portrayed in their fingerpaintings from school last year. Logan so nice and neat, like I can hear in his head, "green goes here, orange here, a little red here, AAAAAND DONE. IT'S PERFECT!" Lillie's is more like, "HURRICAAAAAAAAANE!"

I hung more pictures. Because we just might be the luckiest people alive. Surrounded by love, laughter, screaming and chaos, good words, big hearts, twins born yin yang style 18 months apart with mirrored freckles and mirrored hair growth swirls and complete opposite personalities. We are so lucky. So very very lucky.

I decorated with the purchases I stashed and boxed away all during June. I'm particularly fond of Mr. Pirate Octopus. I'm super tempted to paint him on their vanity mirror. And maybe on ours too. Seeing as how the Husband likes to tattoo (new avenues taken EVERYWHERE, people!!!) I just might have him tattooed on the Husband by the Husband (I'm still a chicken who will never ever nuh-uh NO WAY get tattooed.)

He's five. I die.

Sigh. 18 months till she's five. I DIE.

And then I thought I really WAS going to die. Started off innocently enough as a sinus/allergy type infection. And then everything settled in my lungs and OMGSUFFOCATING! Neat little recipe though to soothe any morbid thoughts from your mind whilst choking on your own mucous. 2 bags of green tea, 1 bag of mint tea, steep in 20 oz of boiling water... add sweetener of your choice and heaven. Go on now, try it for yourself. It's my understanding this crap is floating around nationwide. Pretty sure I just performed a community service, you're welcome.
 

 His.

 

Hers.

 Ours.

Get a damn room already.

A month after we moved in, almost to the day, my kids went and left on their very first trip out of state without me. My womb, I kid you not, cried. I am so screwed when they move away to college or elsewhere. I talked to them every night except one, I sang lullabies in the middle of grocery aisles from over 500 miles away, I listened to my Mother pretty much parrot what I deal with on a daily basis and ached inside to have that noise and normalcy back under my own roof. I prepared myself for their return last night by kicking the Husband out of our room so I could sleep with both of them curled into me. Strangely enough, they both didn't argue when show their own bed. We're still pretty big advocates of "You sleep in your own bed unless a hungry bear is standing over you in your sleep threatening to eat you, and then you can come sleep with Mommy and Daddy." Apparently I taught them too well.

It was nice to wake up to the sounds of Logan wrestling with Moose and talking Star Wars to himself as he colored, waiting for me to roll out of bed and break the silence. Lo rises with the sun, no matter what time he goes to bed. Unlike his Sister who relishes every extra second of sleep she can get. So I cracked my back, made some coffee and hooked Moose up to his leash and the boy and I enjoyed a rare 20 minutes of walking the dog around the complex and catching up on his reunion events and all the naughty little tricks his cousins taught him. Apparently he was taught that squeezing his, ahem, balls would get the last of the pee pee out. This is why I feel completely and totally at a loss as to why God would bless me with a son. What on earth am I supposed to do with a little boy who says things like "balls" and likes to play Star Wars and gets embarrassed because some girls are SO pretty? BOYS ARE SO WEIRD, Y'ALL.

Also? After 4 sleepless nights, I took a 2 hour nap cuddled (for the most part) with Lillie Rae today. It's good to have my babies home. I wouldn't change this madness for anything in the world.

Ahem...

I'm not dead, you guys. I'm totally alive and well and all is great!

The only reason you haven't seen me as of late is because I've been BUSYBUSYBUSY in what is apparently the busiest rental season of the year. We are all moved in and once I get everything unboxed and put away I will post some pics up of the new place. Trust me, I'm as excited as YOU. I'm already smitten with our little apartment and can't wait to share it with you. Something I've been meaning to research since we've moved in is EXTREME mutual deja vu. Last night at dinner I brought it up to the Husband that I feel as if at LEAST 5 times a day I'm getting weird deja vu type vibes ever since we moved in, and he turned and looked at me in disbelief because he has as well. It's so freaky, because I know without a doubt that this move was meant to be, I just want to trust that it's all for the right reasons. Have I mentioned I'm a hopeful pessimist? Have you picked up on that yet? I always always ALWAYS expect the worst and secretly cross my fingers behind my back hoping I'm wrong.

Lo turns 5 on Saturday. I am not excited. I mean, I'm excited to party and celebrate and gorge on delicious cupcakes... but 5??? NOOOOOOOOOO MAH BABY! He's making lots of new friends here that my Husband lovingly refers to as the 1500 gang (our apartment building number.) Now if only we could get rid of this pesky stray cat that likes to pee all over their "clubhouse" picnic table. We moved our "Little Tikes" outside toys yesterday (well... MOST of them) and as I left this morning the stank of cat pee wafted from their play area and LO AND BEHOLD, cat pee... all over the damn table. So, dear readers, just how on earth do I repel stray cats from my kids area?

I've missed you, internet. MISSED YOU. I want to cover you in big slobbery kisses and hug my laptop to my chest with a big sigh of relief. Unfortunately, that will still have to wait a few days as my WIFI router still hasn't shown up. Dear USPS and Amazon authorized retailer who shipped FROM a city in Georgia TO another city in Georgia, way to stay classy. High five.

So let's all cross our fingers behind our backs and be secretly hopeful that Mama gets her router... because I don't know how much longer I'll be able to keep myself from slapping some people around. It's also putting a serious damper on my Bejeweled Blitz playing before bedtime. Apparently I have the worst cell phone service ever in our apartment and the only solution is to link up to the WIFI... of which I have NONE.

Cupcakes. Lots of cupcakes this weekend.

A woman should be lucky to have so many men.

Happy Father's Day to my readers who are Fathers or who play the part. I'm blessed with many men in my life, some biologically and some through marriage. Some just step in when they see me wielding a power tool or can see me imagining myself wielding a power tool.

My Father gave me life, loved me and continued to pick me up and hold me even when I probably was too big to carry. I was probably 7 when I just stopped asking because I could hear the strain in his spine as he'd loop his arms under mine. I try and remember daily how important that one memory is to me 25 years later as my own too big to carry child wants me to pick him up and hold him. Now, my Father is my taxi driver, shuttling me from one place to another when I'm to anxious to drive there myself. Even if it's just to the grocery store. I like to think that I'm keeping him out of jail and he should be thanking me. After all, some of those girls, DAD, are old enough to be your granddaughter. SIGH.

My Grandfather, though he refused to make the drive, called me minutes before my wedding to give me the same speech he'd given my Mother on her wedding day. Something along the lines of, "think of all that money you could have used towards a new car or a down payment on a home and instead all you're getting is sand in your butt and a piece of paper sealing the deal." He's given us a roof over our head these past 5 years and I hope we've given him that extra spark that went missing once my Grandmother passed. I know "his babies" mean everything to him. I don't know what I'd do without my Pappaw.

My Husband. THAT MAN I MARRIED. I will forever be grateful to him for all the silent support, standing next to me as I slowly lost my mind and held my hand as I struggled to come up out of that hole. For the beautiful, amazing children he gave me and all that he's taught them and strengthened in them. I couldn't be luckier to have married a man who makes such an amazing Daddy to his kids. I hope one day he can see all his children together at the same time, if not for a moment, many many moments in his life time.

Turn it up, THIS IS MY JAM!

I'm headed down the Atlanta highwayyy!

 

Her Bad Daughter.

She cried and asked me if I was happy seconds after I vowed myself to The Husband.
She held my leg as I pushed and transitioned from a Daughter to a Mother.
She forced tissues into my hands as I gasped for air and sobbed in the middle of the Emergency Room when I had no where else to turn for help.
She stops me in my tracks to tell me what a good Mother I am.
She has told me how proud she is of me and my forward movement.
She nodded her head and vehemently agreed that my motto for the year to "just say no" when I can't handle anything else on my plate was a strong and wise decision considering what I've repeatedly piled onto my "responsibility plate" has been too much.

I am overwhelmed.
I am exhausted.
I am at the end of my rope.
I am her bad daughter.

Once again, I am the child who is throwing everything she can get her hands on at her Mother just to make it stop.
Once again, I am the child who just wants validation and to be trusted with her decisions.
Once again, I am standing in the rain moving furniture wondering what the fuck and how did I get myself into this situation and hearing the voice in the back of my head telling me that this isn't my fault and to slink back into the shadows and hope it all just takes care of itself.
Once again, I am shielding the blow of her words after letting my guard down.
Once again, I am following her commands, but only because I really don't have any other choice without disappointing my children. I am very close to teaching them a lesson in love and what we will and won't do for acceptance.
Once again, I am her bad daughter.

I am lucky to even have a Mother. Even luckier to be married to a Man who gifted me with two totally different Mothers. I am lucky to have my Mother. I just don't like feeling like a masochist.

The joy of moving just keeps giving.

Between now and move day, I have a total of FIVE days off work. FIVE.

That's 120 hours... if you're counting.

I'm counting.

I'm also packing boxes and then realizing ONCE they're full that OMFG this is some heavy ass shit. What was I thinking? WHY DO ALL MY BELONGINGS WEIGH 50,000 POUNDS? I'm pretty sure this is where being a "packing master" has it's downsides. Yes, as a matter of fact I can pack all of our belongings in as few boxes as possible... unfortunately we're going to need a bunch of body builders to move our boxes 100 feet between point "A" and point "B."

I haven't even started on the playroom... shudder. I've only finished our bedroom and the decorative pieces between the bedroom and living room.

120 hours and counting.

Pillow Talk.

My Husband doesn't believe I need a service monkey.

Last night after turning off the lights and wrapping myself burrito style in my comforter, I started thinking about how relaxed I get when Lillie plays with my hair... kind of like a monkey would "groom" it's companions. So I broached the subject about how beneficial it would be to everyone in the home for me to have a "service monkey" to help with my anxiety. He sighed and the conversation went a little something like this:

Billy, "I'm not even going to get into the reasons you DON'T need a service monkey."
Me, "You don't love me."
Billy, "I love you, and that's WHY you don't need a service monkey."
Me, "You really must not have read up on all the benefits of having a service monkey around."
Billy, "It's not like there's a "servicemonkey.com, and anyways, we are NOT having a conversation about you, a monkey, and this family. Conversation over."
Me, "You just don't understand how this anxiety thing works. You know how I immediately relax when Lillie does my hair? He could "groom" me and we would be best of friends. HE WOULD GET ME."
Billy, "You probably don't even qualify for a service monkey. I'm going to sleep."

***5 minutes later***

Me, "What about a service alpaca? They're really fluffy and we could name one Tina like in Napolean Dynamite."
Billy, "That's not even original, and where would it sleep?"
Me, "In our bed, like a giant hairy pillow."
Billy, "WHAT? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?"
Me, "They make sweaters out of alpaca fur, it would bring in income AND comfort."
Billy, "There is no fucking ROOM for an alpaca in our bed, and I don't even let that CAT sleep in bed with us."
Me, "That's because you are selectively homophobic against my cat. I don't know if I can be married to a man who's homophobic only against cats."
Billy, "He doesn't even do anything to benefit the family. He doesn't kill anything and all he does is scream until you follow him to the bathroom so you can watch him pee like he's a damn exhibitionist. At least Moose (our dog) serves a purpose, he's a great guard dog."
Me, "It's like you don't even know me. Ollie is beneficial to my all around well being. And he LOVES YOU. He likes it when you chase him and beat him."
Billy, "Love taps. On the butt. I don't beat animals."
Me, "You know who would understand me and my anxieties? A service monkey."
Billy, "Conversation. OVER. Goodnight."
Me, "My monkey would get me. I would name him Mr. Wiggles."
Billy, "GO TO SLEEP."
Me, "If I suffered from seizures, I bet you would deny me a "seizure monkey" too."
Billy, "There's no such thing, and you're right, I would."
Me, "Just so you know, this is going in the blog so everyone can see how unfair you are."
Billy, "Sure."
Me, "Just you wait, buddy, just. you. WAIT."

And that's the logic behind why I can't have a service monkey. I think he really just doesn't understand how this whole "service animal" and anxiety. How is it possible we've been married 6 years and he still doesn't believe I need a monkey in my life?

Nuggets of Joy.

While at work, I can only imagine what happens while "Daddy Day Care" is in session. Most days I come home to what appears to be Lillie running the show and the boys are dressed in drag. I don't judge, but I think perhaps maybe there's an obvious confusion of roles. Perhaps she knows the woman of the house is in really the one in charge? If so, my job here is done.

The new place is coming along. Still needs a few things, you know, like appliances would be nice. But the floors are phenomenal and I am so stinking excited with all the decorating possibilities. That right there? Is the sunroom/playroom. It has a walk in storage closet (carpeted) off of it so big, I plan on putting one of the bookshelves in there along with some bins so the kids can PICK UP THEIR DAMN TOYS when they're done and put them in the closet. Hell, I don't care if there are days where they just open the door and kick them inside the closet. So long as I'm not stepping on the bulk lot of Legos I just picked up on Ebay for Lo's birthday... which is a month from tomorrow... he will be FIVE... hold me.

Click the picture for the link, but I think it's really awesome growing up hearing of the feud first hand from my McCoy family. My Grandmother's Mother grew up during that era. If you haven't clicked the link, you'll find my Great Grandmother (Cora Rae McCoy) listed under the children of Addison McCoy and Elizabeth Estep. And yes, Lillie Rae was named after her. Now that I've seen the 3 part series on the History Channel and read up some more on the McCoys, it seems only fitting that our scrappy little Honey Badger was named after a McCoy at all.

Yesterday we celebrated our 6th anniversary. I got him a dresser, but he's only allowed to use one drawer of it. Love, it is a maple dresser with a giant mirror attached. No, but really, six years... as of Memorial Day we had been together for 8 years. When this next Christmas rolls around, we will have been friends for ELEVEN years. I love that Man. (Obviously.)

Grateful.

I am grateful to be exhausted as I post this up before bed. 11 p.m. is the new 2 a.m. for me. I can barely keep my eyes open as I write this.

I am grateful that my employer took a leap of faith on me and are willing to work with me as a "first timer" in this profession... and no... I didn't take to stripping. I didn't get THAT desperate. I DID stick to my guns to find a job that would not only bring income into the family but would also help us to move out into the great big world as *gasp* ADULTS. Adults with CHILDREN and RESPONSIBILITIES. For the first time in 5 years I finally feel as if we're moving forward and out of the endless cycles we've created for ourselves. Wasn't it Einstein who said that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again yet expecting different results? Our new home will be ready to move in shortly after the beginning of July. I chose a home off the board of rentals that nobody wanted to touch because it needed so much work. And yes, I did that on purpose. New carpet, new paint, new appliances, new water heater, new beginnings for everyone involved.

I am grateful that my Husband is flourishing and adapting well to his new role as "Haus Frau" as he so lovingly refers to himself. I'm not the only one going through this transition and trying to find my footing. We'll get there. And I know it will take patience and persistence.

I am grateful to my family for being so supportive of us and for recognizing after their initial concerns, that my taking a job truly was for the best. Even though my Grandfather thinks I'm trying to prove to the Husband that he needs to be careful what he wishes for. Insert "lol" here. Yes, I might have had that thought in the back of my mind as I accepted the job, but I'm ok with that and with my Husband knowing that. I also know that he busted his butt working when he could and that he needs time to get his head straight and to enjoy the constant running monologue that is our little Honey Badger and having to talk Lo off the ceiling when he gets anxious. He's getting pretty good at that last one since Lo is ME in a little boy body.

I am grateful to that man, who took my hand on our long drive home 8 years ago this weekend and has stood strong beside me ever since. He is honest and big hearted, coming out of his comfort zone while I'm hyperventilating to rub my back and force conversation out of me like a BOSS. He's learning, you guys, and I couldn't be more proud.

I am grateful for my Mom who worries about me so much she can't see that I'm doing enough worrying for the both of us already. I don't need help in the "worry" department. I worry like I'm getting paid to do so. Oh if only... I'm grateful that she takes me shoe shopping to find the world's most uncomfortable shoes so I don't get written up on my first week at work. I'm grateful that she takes the kids for a few hours when she can and treats them to the forbidden fruit of McDonalds after church. I pray (no pun intended) that it's only because Chick-fil-A is closed on Sundays. McDonalds is the devil. End rant.

I am grateful for YOU. For my blog followers who sit idly by while I lose my mind, take a job, and then take a job while losing my mind. June is going to be full of awesomeness. Each post is going to be a nugget of joy, THAT I can promise you without crossing my fingers behind my back.

The times, they are a changing, and for once... I am not just anxious, but GRATEFUL for the opportunity and ability TO change.

Day 1.

Today was my first day at work. AT WORK. Y'all! Mama got a job! Hopefully this explains my hiatus from NaBloPoMo. I feel like I'm quitting all my writing goals, but I'm super happy right now. I HAVE MY OWN DESK AND AN ENDLESS SUPPLY OF OFFICE SUPPLIES. It is an "office supply junky's" dream. I'm loving what I do, and it's only. day. one. My 30x30 list just keeps looking better and better.

1. Meet with my people. Not like Jesus, but more like my fellow bloggers... maybe even smoosh cheeks European style with the ones I put up on a pedestal. Met the Bloggess 5/16
2. Run 30k by New Years. (Currently at 6.6: Color Run 5k, All Aboard for a Cure 1 Mile/1.6k)
3. Get back into a career style job.
4. Move out of the basement. June 22nd 2012.
5. Take the kids to the beach, any coast will do.
6. Really celebrate my marriage and relationship with my best friend, i.e. family might need to avert their eyes.
7. Pilgrim back to the Drepung Loseling Monestary in it's new (to me) location.
8. Yoga. And YES, M.... I'm going to need your help on this one because this one is inspired by YOU.
9. Read 30 novels. (1, Jenny Lawson's "Let's Pretend This Never Happened." 2, Rebecca Woolf's "Rockabye.")
10. Lose 30 MORE pounds. (Update, I'm at 65 pounds lost as of 7/31/12... 15 more to meet my goal.)
11. Quit smoking.
12. Spend more time in my craft room and less time in the kitchen. 

Things are getting better every day. There's a huge opportunity with the work I'm doing right now, that we can move out sooner than later. Like, if I wanted to move out tomorrow, I totally could. But there's this little thing called "change" that I require a slow adaptation to in order not to completely LOSE MY MIND AND HOLY PANIC ATTACK, BATMAN!!! So slowly goes it as of now. We'll see how I feel about it next week.

Score one for me.

I sold a lot of cupcakes this weekend. A LOT of cupcakes. The upside to this is $$$, the downside is I'm working in a kids consignment sale and hello deals... I'm a SUCKER for board games, specifically ones I grew up with, and let's just say this sale did not disappoint.

 Not pictured, the copy of "Corduroy" and a random "Veggie Tales" book. And yes, I even scored the Ralph Lauren purse with the books and games for around $10. Yay for half price sales!

Reliving a classic.

When I put the Lite Brite in the car, my Dad laughed and said he hated that damn thing when my sister and I were kids because the stupid pegs hurt like a mother when you step on them. Lucky for my kids, I make them pick that shit up and it goes in the same storage closet as the Play-Doh because I am NOT picking that shit up for days. And then? When I went to get it out of the storage closet to take the swag picture above? I dropped the stupid thing and the pegs went E-V-E-R-Y-W-H-E-R-E. I woke up the zombie bear Husband. Oops.

I think I'm most excited about the Jenga score. More for the crafting possibilities than anything else. I wonder what I can do with Jenga pieces and Mod Podge...

1 of 30

 "Anxiety is a lying bedfellow. And Tiffany is AWESOME!"

We already spoke/saw that I got to meet Jenny and Copernicus on Wednesday. Last night I finally finished the book. Don't judge! I had great intentions to have it completely finished by the time she signed it, but alas, UPS is ridiculous and I had 5,982 other things on my to do list. This book? Only secured my love for The Bloggess a thousand times over. I get her, you guys. Monday I headed into therapy, book in hand and read her post on being diagnosed with anxiety disorder in the waiting room. It hit home, too close to home seeing as I woke up hyperventilating that morning. I know what it's like to spend days feeling as if the walls were closing in and everyone's breathing your air and OH MY GOD GET ME OUT OF MY SKIN, MY SKIN IS TRYING TO KILL ME. Ok, well, logically I'm aware that my skin is not, in fact, trying to kill me, but that's how my brain works on an every day basis... and I hate that. I hate feeling this way. I hate when my meds don't do their job. I hate when I feel trapped and all I want to do is run and puke and run some more or on worse days, curl up tight in my cold dark bedroom and disappear into myself. I've been there. I've been there and it hurts to admit it as much as it hurts to keep it in.

I wish I had my "brain on anxiety drugs" note that I wrote her on the drive up to the book signing. Instead, you're going to get a (possibly) revised version, because it's all true regardless of whether or not it's the exact words I wrote then.

Jenny,

Thank you. Thank you for being so honest about your anxiety, depression, panic. Thank you from someone who also lives with these three misfits as well. Thank you for putting your words out there and not being ashamed to do so. It's taken me years to release the feelings of shame and guilt for being who I am and for having to live this way. Thank you for not being so "above" your followers that you can't comment on their blogs, even when you're in the grips of panic and anxiety as well, ESPECIALLY when you're going through the same thing. You are such an inspiration to me and to so many others who lay it all out there on the great big internet universe attempting to be honest with themselves and others. Thank you, even though "thanks" seems so small compared to how your words and actions give me hope.

-Tiffany

Commercial Bake Break

And to think I have two more batches to make AND I have to package them all... before 6 tomorrow night. It's going to be a long... long.... night.

Let's pretend the panic part didn't happen.

My evening summed up in three pictures:

 Due to the fact that I shut down during a panic attack, this was my best defense for those who felt it necessary to get in mah space. Also, on a normal day I don't have to take any of my emergency anxiety meds. On a "normal" bad day I might take one. Today? Three. It's been a long day, y'all. Was pretty sure at one point once we got off the interstate into Atlanta that I was going to have to open my car door and hork all over Peachtree Street. To say I wasn't handling things well was an UNDERSTATEMENT. What pulled me through was knowing that the one person who understands what that kind of moment is like was literally a few miles away.

 Mother fuckin Copernicus. I wanted to hold him. Mah preshussssss...

I would take the anxiety any day if it meant I could have hung with her for a little bit longer. Unfortunately, her new celeb status had me clamming up. At least we were able to connect for a second. Lucky for her I didn't have anything in me to hork, I was THAT nervous.

My body is completely exhausted from all the seizing up and freaking out. It's time for bed, y'all. Oh, and this totally knocks another "to do" off my 30x30 list. HUZZAH!

Expensive Background Noise.

When Logan was born, I spent a lot of time in the middle of the night watching VH1 and MTV (it was the only time they actually showed (GASP!) music videos. The child refused to sleep, and so, I convinced myself that if he was going to be persistent about this whole staying up all night thing, the least I could do was introduce him to the musical generation he was unfortunately born into. Reason number 8,289 I was born 20 years too late. Logan's theme song should have been Led Zeppelin's "Immigrant Song."

His colic screams reminded me much of the beginning Viking "yell." AaaaaAAAAaaaaAAAH!"

I refused to become one of those parents who sat their kid in front of the television during their waking hours, I wasn't one of them. We were just very lonely in that quiet house when he wasn't screaming. So it was just me, Lo and Insomniac Theater. And that's when I discovered the glory of Logan's latin lover... Dora. Oh, and his BFF'S FOR LIFE Moose and Zee. I kept Nick Jr. on as background noise throughout the day as the boy didn't pay much attention to it unless it was one of the little musical numbers Moose was singing and then all bets were off. Once he was in his walker, there was a lot of this going on.

 Moose? Is that you? TAXI TAXI RIDIN' IN THE BACKSEAT! OMGMYBFFZEE!

He still to this day doesn't watch much t.v. and yes... I do still keep it on as background noise because sometimes I just need 5 minutes, 10 minutes tops to not entertain this child. I am not a monkey. I AM NOT. Until Lillie came around though, it was my sole job as entertainer for this child... Unless Moose was on.

We had to make a compilation DVD of Moose and Zee clips, there was one point in his first year where it was the ONLY thing that would get him to fall asleep or soothe him when he was angry. Unfortunately, Noggin became Nick Jr. and more recently Nick Jr. dropped Moose and Zee like a bad habit. I may or may not still be grieving.

Mama's Summer School is in SESSION.

This time last year, I panicked. Logan was out of school and OMG it was my job to entertain this child. THIS CHILD who can't be entertained long enough to be properly entertained. And so I entertained the idea of Homeschooling the kids. And then I did. Mama does Summer Homeschool. Mama does Summer Homeschool to keep the peace and keep an eye on how the kids are doing academically.

School is in session, y'all. Thanks to the lovely blog 1+1+1=1, and their Animal ABC theme packs, the kids and I should be busy for a while. They've been working with their own "tots" on the Animal ABC's and they release each Alpha pack for free as they use them in their own home. If you need to jump ahead, you can purchase the entire pack for $10 or work slowly through like us slow pokes over here. Today we broke out the old folders with the sleeves we can wipe clean and I slid the new pack inside for playing and learning.

 Using Play-dough to form the letters.

 

 Gluing down our 'gators.

 Practicing letter formation and letter tracing.

Tomorrow morning I'll make sugar cookie dough, halve it and let them cut out some alligator and "A" shapes. Right after, HOPEFULLY, Daddy takes over Mama's Schoolwork while Mama cleans HER Mama's house. Luckily for him, it's simple letter tracing and coloring their bigger gators. It's gonna be a busy summer. BUSY.

Butterfly Mobile.

For literal months now I've been meaning to make a butterfly mobile for my Mom's office and while cleaning and organizing the craft room found where I'd spent hours tracing butterflies from the fabulous LollyChop's butterfly template onto pretty papers I thought my Mama would like. I traced them MONTHS ago... I'm proud to say that I finally finished. YESTERDAY.

My poor Mama has been stricken with odd cyclic fevers for nearly a year now. Normally only once every few weeks, but more recently it's been days in a row with fewer "fever free" days in between. We all want her to find out what's causing them as that last thing I wanted to see this morning was that on Mother's Day, her fever is the highest it's been these past few days. It's maddening enough for her children, I can't imagine what she's going through.

So Happy Mother's Day, Mom. I hope you feel better and I'm so glad you liked the finished product as much as I did.

In like a Taurus, out like a Gemini.

Tomorrow is Mother's Day, so to all of my Mommy friends, milk it for all it's worth. MILK IT. I kid, kind of. I want to sleep in. That's all I really want. I want to wake up on my own without little wants and needs being shot at me rapid fire. Yes, I want to enjoy my children and tend to them... but I just want to enjoy them as they are. As these two wonderful and beautiful hot messes they are.

My heart halved.

It's their fault I'm attempting to better myself this year. Which is why I'm finally getting around to writing my 30x30 post. Today y'all... I'm really aggravated by the quality of the 30x30 button, BUT WHATEVER PEOPLE. Picnik up and quit on me, so there's no going back now. Onward! I'm still in the "rough draft" stage of my list, so it if seems a little frayed in areas, it probably is. But I was confronted with my personality and, of all things, my horoscope sign (signs?) during my interview a few days ago. Hence, in like a Taurus and out like a Gemini. I've been so stuck, so bullheaded in my ways and practices since this horribly dark winter. I was still making my lists and wishing and hoping, but I've drawn inward and my inner voice has grown more ugly and hateful and, y'all... that's not who I am. It's not! Honest! I know that I am beautiful. I know that I am strong. I know that we are nearly halfway through May and wtf, where has my year gone? I've been listening to the voice telling me how worthless and revolting I am, and again... I know I'm not. I look at them (see exhibit A up there) and know the truth. tl;dr

Are you still here? Due to circumstances out of my parents hands, I didn't quite make it to my true due date at birth. Where I was anticipated a Gemini, I was born a Taurus. The beauty of this is, if you truly believe in all this horoscope hibbity hob is that I can carry the traits of both. Yes, we should all just stop what we're doing and feel ridiculously awful for my poor Husband who lives with this nonsense all the damn time. I want to be my stronger self again. I want to shine, dammit! I want to believe that this first portion of the year, this darker me is my Gemini bad twin. I want to believe that I can dust myself off, stand again and fucking SPARKLE come 2013. I WANT TO BE FURIOUSLY HAPPY!!! So I made I'm making a list. Things I can see this sparkly twin doing that my dark, dull, other self would NEVER DO. No judging, y'all... it's my list, not yours. I'll elaborate in future posts. Spoiler alert? Meeting (hopefully) two of my favorite bloggers on Wednesday. This is me peepeeing my pants a little.

1. Meet with my people. Not like Jesus, but more like my fellow bloggers... maybe even smoosh cheeks European style with the ones I put up on a pedestal. Met the Bloggess 5/16
2. Run 30k by New Years. (Currently at 6.6: Color Run 5k, All Aboard for a Cure 1 Mile/1.6k)
3. Get back into a career style job.
4. Move out of the basement.
5. Take the kids to the beach, any coast will do.
6. Really celebrate my marriage and relationship with my best friend, i.e. family might need to avert their eyes.
7. Pilgrim back to the Drepung Loseling Monestary in it's new (to me) location.
8. Yoga. And YES, M.... I'm going to need your help on this one because this one is inspired by YOU.
9. Read 30 novels.
10. Lose 30 MORE pounds.
11. Quit smoking.
12. Spend more time in my craft room and less time in the kitchen.

The rest of the list is to be continued... I'm not a quitter, I just want my list to really mean something if not for me, for my kids 30 years down the road.

Joan of Art