Ch-ch-ch-changes

Well, after nearly a year of unuse, I am packing up this blog and moving over here. Blogging has been a creative outlet, a catharsis for me. I've missed you, old friend. Now come check out the new digs! It's nothing fancy, just me and my words.

Whee! I'm three!!

Happy birthday, baby girl!

Dear Selection Committee:

I am just writing to let you know that my Mother-Of-The-Year application will be mailed a bit late this year. I have a perfectly legitimate reason, so please hear me out and consider my candidacy for this prestigious award to continue in good standing, in spite of the tardiness.

As I was diligently preparing my application, I heard cries from the backyard. I rushed out to see that my child, while playing unsupervised on perfectly safe and properly employed climbing equipment had injured himself in some sort of fall. He was clearly in pain and needed tending to, so I was unable to complete my application at that time. I put it aside and planned to finish it later in the day when he could once again play unsupervised.

After complaining and wincing on and off in pain for the rest of the day, he went to bed for what would prove a fitful night of non-sleeping for both of us. Since his arm was significantly more swollen and painful when we got up Sunday morning, I prioritized a 3+ hour (I know, it could have been much worse!) trip to the ER over filling out the application. A fracture was diagnosed, but now that he's on the mend and things are calming down around here, I will be able to complete the proper forms and get them in the mail promptly.

Now I must sign off to get this letter in the mail to you before the postmarking deadline. The kids should be fine alone in the bathtub while I run down the street to the mailbox. I sure hope they are scrubbed and clean by the time I get back. I'm sure a mom wouldn't even be considered for Mother-Of-The-Year if she sent her kids to pre-school with grime behind their ears!

By the way, despite what it says in the contest rules' fine print about being disqualified if an injurious accident occurs while under the applicant's direct supervision, I would like to point out that my son clearly was not under my direct supervision at the time of the incident, so that shouldn't affect my chances at all.

Thank you, and please expect my forthcoming contest paperwork soon. I look forward to hearing from you.

Very Sincerely Yours,

The next MOTY

Photos to help plead my case:

Kudos to the mother of the creative genius that rigged this clever climbing apparatus. She should win hands down for inspiring such industry in her offspring.

Surely I should earn bonus points for the smile on his face, indicating that he is clearly unaffected by this minor little incident.

It's A Christmas Miracle!

She likes him! She REALLY, REALLY likes Santa!!



Merry Christmas!

Fall Ball

Dylan had his first t-ball game last weekend. What kind of mom would I be if I let the occasion pass without posting some of the highlights?

The proud papa, helping Dylan get ready for the game. It was also Scott's coaching debut... he is on his way to fulfilling a lifelong aspiration of fatherhood by being Dylan's coach.

First at bat.

A hit!

And a run!

Dylan got to be catcher when his team took the field. I'm not sure if he caught one ball, but he sure loved dressing out in all the gear!

...and he looked like the real deal, too!

The 100th

According to my archives list, this is my 100th post. I have been putting it off because it has proved to be daunting. First of all, it has taken me just over 2 years to make it this far. Most bloggers that I admire passed this milestone well within their first few months of blogging! Second, I'm not really a meme-y kind of girl, yet I don't have an original idea of my own to mark this momentous occasion, so I will do what I have seen other bloggers do since that is why I started blogging in the first place.

So here it goes: 100 random things about me that you could probably care less to know. You already got 1 & 2 in the first paragraph. (Well, 3, if you count the fact that I also mentioned that this is my 100th post. You might not have known that about me before now.)

4. This list will probably never end up being even remotely close to 100. I'm okay with that the same way that I'm okay with taking as long as I have to publish 100 posts.
5. I will be 40 in three months.
6. I remember when 40 seemed OLD.
7. I wish I didn't.
8. Because now I am that OLD.
9. I don't have a "bucket list."
10. I don't really think I will ever have one, because I don't want to end up regretting the things that I couldn't quite cross off.
11. If I did make one, it would include traveling to all of the continents, except for two of them.
12. I would omit the icy, arctic-y ones.
13. I guess technically, I wouldn't have to travel "to" North America since I'm already here, but there are so many parts yet to see.
14. Even though we have decided that our family is complete and we're "done" having kids, I still REALLY want one more.
15. We won't have another one.
16. We are 99.9% assured that after a simple recent procedure, it would be a medical improbability.
17. At least I know that I will be able to enjoy a cocktail (or 13!) on my birthday.
18. With my amazing, complete family.
19. I sometimes regret that I didn't complete a more versatile degree in college than the one I have.
20. I am a teacher.
21. Technically, it's two degrees. I have a master's in education also. It only made me more versatile in that one career though, so it doesn't really count.
22. I have tried working from home since my kids were born.
23. What do you mean I can't earn a salary for educating my own kids?
24. I don't have the CV to support some great work from home freelance opportunity.
25. I would suck at having an actual "job" in my home anyway.
26. I lack the discipline to get things done in a timely, efficient manner that would probably be required in order to actually earn an income doing whatever it is I was doing from my home.
27. Look how long it took me to publish 100 posts and no one's paying me, it's just a hobby.
28. If I had more time to spend doing what I really like to spend my free time doing, I would probably just sleep more.
29. My house might be a little bit cleaner.
30. There might not still be size 3 month clothing in my daughter's dresser drawers.
31. I might have completed a few more projects.
32. I might publish my blog more frequently.
33. I might bake more cookies.
34. I might have a better song selection on my ipod.
35. I might exercise more.
36. I might eat better and plan more healthful meals for my kids.
37. Hopefully, I'd just play more Candy Land or Diego Bingo.
38. But definitely not Chutes and Ladders.
39. What? My kids like games. I play games with them. Does it make me a bad mother that I am picky about which ones I will play? I don't like Chutes and Ladders.
40. I was 6 or 7 when I got the Chicken Pox. My parents had plans to go away for the weekend and at the last minute my mom was scrambling to find family friends to take care of us who's children had already had the Chicken Pox. I remember the oldest daughter of the family where we ended up staying not letting me play Chutes and Ladders because I would get my Chicken Pox all over her game board. So I hate the game. Apparently my little 6-or-7 year old spotted self was not assertive enough to remind the beyoch that the only reason I had pox in the first place was because just a few short weeks prior, I had let her play Chutes and Ladders at my house and her chicken cooties got all over my board. So move over and give me that spinner. Yeah, I'm sure if I'd said that back then I would love to play Chutes and Ladders now. Stupid game.
41. I am drinking wine as I type.
42. Apparently typing while drinking is not so different than talking while drinking. My speech is becoming slurred through my fingertips instead of my mouth.
43. The backspace key is my new best friend.
44. You can't tell how slurry that last sentence just came out because I backspaced right over it.
45. But if I were speaking, you would know that I am well beyond my first or second glass.
46. Don't worry. The kids were in bed a few glasses ago.
47. I'm screwed if they wake up and really need something.
48. Actually, I'll probably care less. They'll be the screwed ones.
49. I did not sign up to single-parent.
50. I hate that about my husband's job most of the time.
51. Thus the need for multiple glasses of wine.
52. We are four days into a nine day absence of Dad in our household.
53. I know.
54. And I am.
55. Grateful.
56. That his job hasn't tanked with the economy. At least he has a job.
57. I'm not complaining, just feeling a little sorry for my lonely, single-mom self.
58. We'll get over it.
59. We always do.
60. Whenever he gets home from a trip, I end up thinking back to the week or so we were on our own and wishing I had been a better, more patient mom to my kids in his absence.
61. Maybe this trip.
62. Maybe we'll go to the zoo tomorrow instead of eating cereal right out of the box while watching cartoons and staying in our pj's until it's lunch time when I realize I have nothing in the house to eat except for cereal right out of the box.
63. Phoenix has a great zoo.
64. I grew up going to that zoo.
65. I am flooded with 39 & 3/4 years of nostalgia every time we walk through that gate.
66. Great. Now I'm back to thinking about when 40 was old.
67. Looking for more wine.
68. Not gonna feel like getting out of bed in the morning.
69. Let alone getting the cereal boxes out for the kids.
70. I might leave a note taped to my bedroom door about leaving me alone and with instructions for the TV remote so they can watch what they want until I feel like getting up.
71. They might figure it out.
72. Dylan read Hop On Pop the other day.
73. Not the whole book, just the title and some of the simpler sentences at the beginning.
74. It brought me to tears.
75. Yes, I just teared up again typing that.
76. Because he's just 4, he should still be little.
77. But he's figuring out reading, and so many other things that big kids do.
78. I might not be ready for him to be that big yet.
79. But I am loving every minute of watching him grow up and become himself.
80. I've made it to #80. That's closer than I thought I'd get before getting bored and hitting publish.
81. Now I'm determined to make it to 100.
82. But it's so late.
83. Note or no note, Sadie will be in my room before 7a.m. with her daily juice request.
84. It would be easy to fix her juice before going to bed so she won't have to ask for it and I won't have to get out of bed to fulfill her request.
85. But then I won't get her to go potty and change into underwear.
86. And she'll probably crawl into bed with me, snuggling up while sipping her juice.
87. And then I'll have to get up anyway because I'll end up laying there in a puddle of spilled juice.
88. And that might make me a little more grumpy than just waging the morning potty battle and rewarding her with juice to begin with.
86. Yeah, I'm still working on my Mom of the Year application.
87. And yes, I am loving every minute of watching her grow up and become herself, too.
88. I just might have a few more gray hairs of her doing than Dylan's.
89. Because she's just 2 but I swear she's going on 17.
90. Strong willed and fiercely independent put it mildly.
91. I'm so proud of her.
92. Of them both.
93. Every moment of every day.
94. I don't remember as a child aspiring to be anything in particular when I grew up.
95. I'm sure at some point I was indoctrinated to respond "a mom."
96. But I don't know that I ever pictured it.
97. Or is it just that the reality of everything that "Mom" encompasses obliterates the memory of anything that could have ever been imagined?
98. I'd like to say that I'm a better person because of my kids.
99. I hope they don't end up saying that they grew up okay in spite of me.
100. It's all a work in progress.

Friendly Relations

The following conversation occurred between my (2 1/2 year old) daughter and myself the other day while we were discussing extended family members and their relationship to her.

Sadie: An-toh Pa-thit (Uncle Patrick) is my.... um.... I don't know.

Me: He's your uncle.

S: Oh, my an-toh. No a-choo-lee I think he's my boy-fend.

Me: No, actually he's your uncle.

S: Oh. I have 2 boy-fends at soo-ool.

Me: Two boyfriends? Who are your boyfriends at school?

S: Um.... Shamus is my boy-fend!

Me: Who's your other boyfriend?

S: Um... Ms. Tistin! (Ms. Kristin, one of her teachers) She's my boy-fend and I'm gonna marry her!

Me: Well, Ms. Kristin is a girl. She could be your friend that's a girl, but she can't be your boyfriend.

S: Oh. O-tay. Tistin is a goll and I am a boy. I can be her boy-fend. I wanna tell her that I will be her boy-fend, o-tay?

Me: Um, okay?

Great. Otay!