Category Archives: Uncategorized

Stress? Why yes, I’ll have another.

My blog has been rather quiet lately and I hate that, but that’s because right now I am literally up to my eyeballs in moving boxes.

I had this great idea to start the process of packing early, uncluttering, and only taking the essentials.  And it seems that has dragged this whole shindig out way too long. Image

Needless to say, I’m a wee bit stressed right now.

I have a motto that I try to live by.  “Live Simply”.  And so far, I’m pretty much stinking it up.  I  have no idea how on this blessed earth I have managed to accumulate so many things.  Anybody relate?  I mean really, do I need two Bundt pans?  And it’s not as if I’ve lived in the same place for 40 years.  We’ve only lived here for about 2 years.  You would think I would have cleaned out the last time we moved. But my lazy bones got the best of me and I just moved all the stuff and decided to deal with it later.  And later has become now.

In the process of cleaning out, I’ve had to make some really tough decisions.  It seems my hoarding/sentimental side can come up with a myriad of excuses as to why I should keep the things I own.

But your grandma/dad/brother/third cousin twice removed gave that to you.

What if you host Christmas or Thanksgiving some year?  You might need 24 drinking glasses.

You actually plan on making something crafty with that broken rake head, remember?

It’s nice to have a spare coffee pot, iron, Bundt pan. What if the other breaks?

This needless, worthless, piece of junk might be worth money some day.

You paid a lot for that {insert item here} 24 years ago.

To my hoarding/sentimental self, I’ve had to say, “Enough!  Just because something was a gift, doesn’t mean I have to keep it forever.  If I ever need 24 drinking glasses, I’ll borrow some from a neighbor.  If my iron breaks, well then yippee! And just because it cost a lot 24 years ago, doesn’t mean it’s worth a thing now.  I mean, Look at it!”

Then there’s the packing.  I’ve only ever moved a short distance in the past.  So you know how that goes, you just pull the drawers out from the dresser and stack them in the horse trailer, right? Why bother actually pulling the clothes out and putting them in boxes? You make about 50 trips with small things like lamps and bread makers.  If it’s just a few miles, you don’t even have to really seal up the boxes.  Drive slowly with breakable items clinking lightly, watch the bumps, and everything will be just fine.

But we’re not going a few miles, we’re going 300 or something.

That means bubble wrap has become my new best friend.  Things I never thought actually belonged in a box are being put in a box, which makes for a lot of boxes.

Adding to the frustration of this move is attempting a day to day routine in the house while I’m packing.  Realizing I already packed the spatulas in the midst of frying eggs is never a good thing.

Plus, there’s the emotional trauma of moving from the town that I was born and raised in to a place where I won’t know anyone in the grocery store or who I can borrow 24 drinking glasses from on Thanksgiving.

And just for fun, why don’t we throw in the biggest holiday of the year right smack dab in the middle of packing and moving away from home?  Which in and of itself is a major stressor right there.   The shopping, the wrapping, the presents, the relatives.  Please pass the eggnog.

Oh, and least I forget.  Mix in a ten month old, whose really in a clingy stage or if she’s not clinging, she’s unpacking what has just been packed.

Or using the boxes to her advantage.

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But I will persevere.  And we will get moved in just a few more days.

One of which is a major holiday filled with gifts and presents.

Which translated means more stuff to pack.

But I gotta look on the bright side.  Maybe I can score some really great boxes.

And have eggnog.

Tight Spaces

Forgive the quality of the photos in this post.  I think I must have been drunk when I took these.  Just kidding.  Really, they were taken with my phone, which is so old it’s considered a dumb smart phone.

Lately our little EK has been quite the explorer.  Finding just the right spaces to crawl into is her current obsession.

First, she empties the small space to make room for herself.

And then she climbs in.

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She’s especially partial to cabinets.

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Although she doesn’t discriminate.  Sometimes, she prefers drawers.

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And occasionally, she’ll attempt to fit herself in a canvas bin.

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When she’s not squeezing into small spaces, she’s climbing on top of them.

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And going after what she wants.

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Even if she has to get on her tippy toes.

The To Do List

I try to start my day off with a list of to-do’s.   Not because I want to, I actually despise lists, but because without one, I’m pretty dad gum worthless.  We all know that one person who doesn’t have a lazy bone in their body right?  Well, that’s not me.  My body is chock full of lazy bones.  206 to be exact.  I can whittle away the hours doing nothing and be perfectly content.  It shows too.  My laundry and refrigerator are proof.

Lists are my husband’s thing.  He swears by them.  Each day, he makes a list for his day and is fully self-driven enough to accomplish more than he has written down.

I’m fully self driven enough to make a list and then sit down.

I try.

I usually fail.

But I try.

Here’s my list from about 5 days ago.

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Yes, you read that right, it says “Get Dressed”.  I always do, but if I write it down, at least I can scratch one thing off.  It makes me feel as if I’ve accomplished something.   Trivial maybe, but something.

But as you can see, nothing is checked off this list.  And I did some of these things, I really did.  But I never came back to check the list to see what I did and didn’t do.  I’m still waiting to blog the rat pic, it’s coming, be aware.  And I’m still waiting to exercise.  It’s probably not coming, be aware.

As I was writing my list, my little Emma Kate wanted to write her own list too.  So she took the pen and I guided her little hand as she jotted down some of her to-do’s as well.  Now I realize to the untrained eye, it may appear to be a bit of scribble, but it’s not.  Don’t feel bad if you can’t read it.  It’s kind of like speaking pig-latin.  Either you got it, or you don’t.  I got it.  Call it mother intuition or deciphering phonetic writing of elementary children for too long or just a weird sixth sense, but that list is perfectly legible to me.

EK’s To Do List

1) Pull out all the Tupperware lids from kitchen drawer

2) Remove the dish towels and burp clothes and scatter them among the kitchen floor from kitchen drawer #2

3)  Open the cabinet drawers in the dining room and eat the Scentsy bars of wax

4)  Be sure and get the toilet brush in my mouth at least one time

5) Fake mom out where she thinks I’m actually going to nap for more than 15 minutes

6) Pull books off the bookcase

7) Take off my socks

8) Eat crumbs from my high chair seat that have been there excessively too long

9) Throw my food in the floor

10) Smear snot all over my face

11)  Prevent mom from completing her to-do list so she has someone else to blame besides her 206 lazy bones

And like her daddy, she gets it all done and then some!!

10 months

My dearest, sweet, little Emma Kate,

You are 10 months old baby.  It is nothing short of mind-boggling.  10 months!!  Part of me aches to watch you grow so fast.  Some days I long for that newborn who slept and cooed and watched the world behind those beautiful eyes.  But then the other part of me can’t wait to see you grow.  To watch you accomplish all that you can.  I try to cherish each and every day, even when they seem monotonous.  But they really aren’t.  You learn something new everyday.  You may not be a newborn anymore, but you still watch the world from behind your beautiful eyes and it is fascinating to see you learn.

You are straight up adorable.  That’s all there is to it.  You started singing this month.  Your Grandy and Ash taught you to sing  “la, la, la”.

You do motions to The Itsy Bitsy Spider, and you really wash that spider out!  And the sun comes out with your little arms reaching way up to the top of your beautiful head.  You are all grins too.  You are sure proud of yourself when you do something big like that.

You clap your hands along with “When you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands”, and you still love your books.  You’re favorite has always been Pete the Cat–I Love My White Shoes.  Your Grandy bought you a Pete the Cat stuffed doll and your aunt Jo got you Pete the Cat–Rocking My School Shoes and you love reading them with somebody or by yourself.

You’ve learned how to open drawers and cabinets this month and empty them completely out.  Now, you need to learn how to put it all back!

You can say mama, dada, bye-bye, night night, num-num (which means yum yum) and you started saying “Ash” plain as day.  It is adorable!  Now you just say it all day long.  You definitely understand everything we say to you.  When I ask you “Where’s Ash?”  You start looking towards her bedroom here trying to find her.   You can comb your hair and brush your teeth (in a perfect 10 month old way), drink from a cup (with not much spilled down the front), feed yourself with a spoon and fork (when we load it up of course), and give hugs and kisses.

Pulling up has become old hat to you now, and just this week you’ve started standing alone for longer periods– like about 8 seconds.  Might not be sound long, but it is when you’re balancing huh baby?  Or riding a bull, which you will never ever attempt, just so you know.  I just felt like we needed to get that established right here and now.  You walk all around holding on to things, like the couch, the end tables, your crib.  Just like what you’ll do in the swimming pool in a few years.   You love to explore and you climb the porch steps up to the door.

You are a good-natured girl who knows what she wants and doesn’t want.  You don’t let anyone persuade you to do something you don’t want to do, which isn’t fun when getting your diaper changed, but will play an important role when you are a teenager.

You are beautiful, smart, happy, and loved beyond measure.

We take great delight in you, Emmy.  You are our girl!

XOXO,

Mama

Just Because

Just because it’s Tuesday (I think).

Just because she’s 9.5 months old (tomorrow).

Just because she hasn’t pulled her hair bow out or her socks off (yet).

Just because she’s been under the weather and today is the first day in nearly a week that she is back to her old self (almost).

Just because before I know it, she’s going to be walking (or driving) (or both).

Just because she’s adorable (totally).

Just because.

Life in the Real World

I have an addiction to Facebook.

Before that I had an addiction to MySpace.

And before that, I had an addiction to different community forums like exercise and teaching ideas where I could converse with others and learn from them.

I guess it’s not the worse addiction you can have, it’s not terribly expensive, but like any addiction it controls my mind and steals my time.

I remember when the internet was invented, yes I do.  I was at my sister’s house, she was showing me around the World Wide Web and it was a confusing mess with its browser buttons and home page.  I remember thinking I would never understand it and why would I even need to.

Then, for me anyway,  computers were for writing college papers and nothing more.  A fancy typewriter that didn’t need correction tape.  There were no such things as digital photos or downloadable music.   We had 35 mm film and a cassette player.  What more could we possibly need?

I have grown to love the internet, in the most unhealthy of ways.  If I counted the hours of my life that has been, dare I say it, robbed by sitting in front of the computer, I would be riddled with guilt.  It is my Encyclopedia  Britannica.  My source of information at my fingertips.  It is my friend finder, connector to others and relationship builder.   And with my blog, it is my voice.

It’s not all bad.  The internet has taught me much.  Where would my brain be without all the useless knowledge with which I’ve filled it?   It has brought me closer to others.  In the last few years of my dad’s life, we grew to know one another  in a deeper, more personal way.  A way in which we never would have experienced if left to our own conversational abilities, of which neither of us are considered stellar.   And I cherish that.  But with the invention of smart phones, the connection to the internet has gone overboard for me.  Even though I want to believe it is enriching my life, I often wonder if it is in reality sucking the life out of me.

Two weeks ago I deactivated my Facebook account.  Like an addict, I can say today it has been 14 days since I’ve drunk in Facebook, snorted the comments of others, inhaled the sometimes hateful, sometimes loving, sometimes funny, sometimes snarky remarks and jokes of friends and family.

I ain’t gonna lie, I’ve missed it.  It is the first thing I think about doing when I wake up, and throughout the day I catch myself wanting to write on my wall and cyberstalk others.  But it’s been one of the best things I’ve done as well.  I long for the connections with others, but I tell myself that anyone who gives a rip about me has my number, knows my address, maybe has my email and can find me if they truly want to.  It’s nice to have been missed by a few, but for the most part, I’ve discovered my “friends” are merely “acquaintances”.

Will I be back?  Who’s to say.  I’m working on my real-life relationships instead.  Trying to improve my real-life self and draw meaning from this place called life.

So if you’re reading, thanks for stopping by.

I wish you’d say hi.

I probably miss you.

 

Halloween #1

I was torn.

My motherly decision making center of the brain was shorting out.   What to do?  What to do?

The practical, frugal Rocket Surgeon side of me said celebrating EK’s first Halloween is ridiculous.  She’s nine months old for Heaven’s sake, she has no earthly idea what in the world we would be doing, she can’t even walk, much less ring a doorbell and say Trick or Treat.  She can’t even eat candy!  It’s silly to spend money on a costume she is going to wear once in her lifetime.  We’ll have plenty of years to do the whole Halloween thing.

The sentimental, sappy Rocket Surgeon side of me said celebrating EK’s first Halloween is essential.  She’s just nine months old, she’ll be so cute in a costume, she’ll need a picture for the baby book, she might think I was some horrible mother later on down the road (which will happen when she’s sixteen anyway) if we don’t.  Why would I want to miss out on this opportunity to share her with others?

So on October 31st, at around 11:00 a.m. I made up my mind.

We would do a small version of the Halloween thing.

Put on a costume, go to some family and close friends, visit out church festival, then come home and go to bed.

I found a very cute and easy Candy Corn costume to make at this site:  http://www.chicaandjo.com/2010/10/18/candy-corn-costume/

So while she took a nap, I was able to put her costume together.  And then of course, since I’m a beginner sewer, I was able to rip some of it out and re-put it together.  But it came together fairly simply with not too many frustrations on my part.

She hates hats.  Absolutely won’t leave them on.  Even with a “stampede string”,  we fought that thing.  She kept pulling it off, until I showed her herself in the mirror, and just like that she decided it was too cute to take off.

We made our rounds and enjoyed the night.

I must admit, she looked sweet enough to eat!

9 months

Hey Emma Kate,

You’ve made it nine months so far and boy has the time really flown.  You are a such a joy!  We are so blessed to have you.  You have no idea how much you have enriched our lives.  And not just me and daddy, but all of your family.

My heart is so full of love for you sometimes I think it may burst.

You are one of a kind, kid.  You have such a determined spirit about you, and there is nothing in this world going to stop you.  Remember always to never let obstacles stand in your path.

Sleeping has been a challenge for you, it’s not one of your favorite things to do, but you need it after working so hard all the time.  But we’ve made big improvements in your sleeping, even though you still don’t sleep through the night.

You are absolutely out of this world gorgeous.  Strangers comment on your beauty all the time, especially your eyes.  You have these big, round, dark eyes that just seem to draw people in.  The other things people comment on?  Your size.  You’re not a teeny tiny baby, sister.  When they find out how old you are they tell me you are a big baby.  You’ve been called a barefoot porkchop even!  I think it was a term of endearment, so don’t let it offend you.  I sure didn’t.  You wear a size 12 months and are sporting a ghetto booty in your jeggings.  Now when you read this years down the road, you’ll probably have to ask some old person what that means.  Surely our memories won’t be so poor we can’t remember!

You’ve got six teeth.  4 on top and 2 on bottom.  Your teeth didn’t come in like they were supposed to, and there for a while, you had fangs.

You’re a big eater too.  We never could find a baby food you liked, and you just wanted to take the spoon from us and do it yourself, so we’ve moved on to table food and it seems to be just fine.  You feed yourself so well and can even drink from a glass.

I can’t tell you how smart you are, Emma.  Sometimes it’s just a little freaky.  Your mind works all the time and it’s like we can see the wheels turning.  You are constantly trying to figure something out.  Your favorite things to play with right now are your baby dolls and books.  You love on your babies with pats and kisses and turn pages in your books all the time.

You are pulling up everywhere and this month you decided to start taking a few steps while pushing a walking toy.  You are so proud of yourself too when you do something big like that.  You grin an infectious smile and look around to make sure someone is watching you.   Of course we all are, and we are cheering you on every step of the way.  Yea Emma!  Go Emma, Go!  We always will be.  All you’ll need to do is look around and we’ll be right behind you cheering you on!

We have so much to look forward to.  God has so blessed me by giving me you and my words will never ever be able to express it fully.

I love you oodles and gobs,

XOXO

Mama

Forgetaboutit!

There’s this movie that probably came out in the 90’s or something called Donnie Brasco.  I watched it once, a long time ago, and it was a decent movie. Decent, if  you like filth, and violence, and mafia crime.  Sex, and cussing, murder and mayhem.  Which, hey,  Iain’tgonnalie,   I do. Sometimes I even like it in my movies.  Haha.  Oh boy, I crack myself up.

Anyway, you should watch it sometime, as long as you don’t go to church with me.   And if you do go to church with me, then it’s one of those classic “do as I say, not as I do” hypocritical, Christian, faux pas.

It’s got Johnny Depp and Al Pacino.  Two dark, handsome tough guys, who cuss an awful lot.   Somehow, hearing mafia dudes say farfignooten just doesn’t really cut it.   Johnny is a cop trying to bring down some huge mafia dudes, one of which is Al Pacino.  In order to do this, he goes undercover as a mafia guy and tries to learn all their secrets and stuff.

So there’s this great part of the movie where two guys (not mafia dudes) ask Johnny Depp to explain what “forgetaboutit” means.  Evidently, if you’re mafia, it’s one of those words you say all the time.

Right up there with farfignooten.

So Johnny tries to explain.

Forgetaboutit means you agree with someone.  “Forgetaboutit!”
And sometimes you say it if you disagree with someone.  “Forgetaboutit!”
Sometimes it means something’s the greatest thing in the world. “Forgetaboutit!”
But it also is like saying go to hell.  “Forgetaboutit”
And sometimes, it just means, you know, forgetaboutit.

Since I’m no Johnny Depp, here’s the video clip, complete with cuss words.

We have a forgetaboutit at my house too.

It’s “mama”

When my 8 month old says it, she means I’m hungry.  “mama!”
But sometimes she means I’m tired. “mama!”
Or if she wants to be held. “mama.”
But maybe she wants milk.  “mama.”

And sometimes, it just means, you know,  mama.

Sleeping on the Floor Part 3

“Having children is like living in a frat house – nobody sleeps, everything’s broken, and there’s a lot of throwing up.”
― Ray Romano

Last night marked Day 5 with my comfy “bed on the floor” gig.

And boy oh boy, I’m feeling like I can move mountains!

I’m almost afraid to tell you for fear that if I let it out, the universe will turn against me.  But here goes.

EK slept through the night.  Almost.

I scooted my little bed cot over closer to the door and out of reach to begin the transition to move me out of her room.

She had a late evening nap, so she went to bed about 45 minutes later than usual.  After going through our bedtime routine, I placed her in her crib, she rolled right over and went straight to sleep.  She awoke twice for 5-10 seconds of whining then she was able to put herself back to sleep, and slept until 4:45 this morning.  After some milk at 4:45, she went right back to sleep and slept 3 more hours until 7:45!

Success my friends, success. In my book anyway.

Since I never intervened or helped her get back to sleep until 4:45, Mama here got some good sleep too! Yippee.

We’re also making progress with our naps and yesterday she slept an hour and 15 minutes by herself in her crib.  This is huge as usually her naps are 40 minutes long and willy-nilly.

We’re getting there friends.  We’re getting there.

 

The man who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones. –Confucius