Writing to Remember

Is there any way I can get a few extra hours (without kids or any other responsibilites) in my day???

My list of things that I want to do keeps growing and my amount of time to do them in just keeps getting smaller.  I have a lot of things that I am interested in, enjoy doing, want to do more of, etc. but never seem to get the chance to do.  I feel like I can't even keep up with the stuff I "have" to do, so I don't ever feel like I can spend time on things I "want" to do.  I have stacks of books I want to read, tons of scrapbooking I want to work on, things I want to sew, walls I want to paint, and a piano that stares at me daily and begs me to sit and play it for hours at a time.  All things I love to do, but just can't justify spending any time on. 

Try as I may, my house is never 100% clean, my car is always full of crap that needs to be brought in, and my to do list is never complete.  I continually hope that someday I will be so caught up with things that I feel I "have" to do, that I will have time each day (or even every few days) to do the things that I really "want" to do.  Hey, never hurts to hope right?

If it had happened to someone else I totally would have thought it was hilarious. Since it was me...not so much.

The other night I boiled some eggs for Ruby (you can give a baby an egg yolk but not the white, and boiling them is my choice method of separating the two) and then stuck them in the refrigerator.  Yesterday I took one out to feed Ruby and couldn't decide if I should heat the yolk up a bit for her or not.  With all of my infinite wisdom, in the microwave it went.  I put the ball of yolk on a paper towel and turned the microwave on.  A mere seven seconds in, there was a ridiculously loud pop accompanied by a pretty impressive explosion.  That tiny little ball of yolk exploded into about a million pieces and fully coated the entire inside of my microwave in a disgusting yellow, smelly, greasy, substance.  Awesome.  For just a second I actually considered closing the door and trying to devise a plan to somehow claim ignorance and push the blame on Jack.  Obviously I am totally above that, so i sucked it up and cleaned up the damn microwave. 

I'll never change...

I am a professional procrastinator...I'm not sure why I feel the need to announce it like I just had a new revelation, because I am pretty sure that I've really never denied that fact.  I wait until the last possible minute to do things, and I think I work best under those situations.  In fact, sometimes I wonder if I'd ever accomplish anything if it weren't for the stress induced adrenaline that is produced when a deadline rapidly approaches.  When I was in school I never did homework ahead of time, and I would venture to estimate that I started 99% of my projects and papers with just barely enough time left to complete them...even if I had all the free time in the world leading up to the due date.  If I have housework to do before someone is coming over, I manage to leave just enough time to get it done so that I am scrambling to complete things right up until company is walking in my door.  I can't even tell you how many times I stopped at the grocery to pick up snacks on the way to take Jack to school last year when he was snack helper because I put it off the day before until it was too late to go.  If I am leaving on an early morning trip, packing is started late the night before and carried on until the wee hours of the morning.  Bret has many times said "it wouldn't be a vacation without you staying up all night the night before packing."  He really couldn't be more accurate. 

Each time I have something to do I give myself the talk about how I am going to be super prepared this time, and that I am going to get things done early.  All the while I know the reality is that there isn't a chance in hell that I will actually follow through with that.  If I have to be somewhere, I'll be there, on time even, but it will only happen because of a last minute panic attack and desperate attempt to do 5000 things at the last minute.

I plan for things, don't get me wrong.  I like to know what is ahead of me, and I totally have a calender right next to my desk with important dates and upcoming events carefully marked.  I just don't do anything about those things until, say, the day before it is going to happen.  We made the decision two months ago to have Thanksgiving at our house and then let people know.  I found great entertainment in that one of the first responses I got was someone asking what they could bring...my answer of course, was that I had no idea.  No matter how hard I try, my mind just doesn't work that way.  I have hosted Thanksgiving once before and literally called my mom about 10 times while I was at the grocery the day before to discuss with her what items I needed to get (and yes, I am pretty certain my issue with procrastination is an inherited trait because I know my mom saw nothing abnormal about that phone call.)  That being said, we had a fabulous meal and it was hands down The.Best.Thanksgiving.Ever. 

Don't let this blog stop you from asking me for help or to do something with you.  You really don't have to worry about me.  I'll get things done...but with not a minute to spare.  :)

What it all boils down to is that I think I am finally coming around to the idea that this is just the way I am.  There really is no point in even telling myself that things will be different because I know that isn't the case.  Actually, maybe I'll start working on it...tomorrow?

Year of Care Giveaway from Care.com

I was contacted by Care.com to help spread the word about their Year of Care Giveaway and was excited to blog about it as well as enter it myself!  You only have until October 9th, so enter now!

A few weeks ago, Care.com started running the Year of Care Giveaway. It's a sweepstakes open to all families across the U.S. We're giving away $12,445--the cost of a year of child care for the average American family as part of an effort to raise awareness of the high cost burden and stress families are under when it comes to caregiving.

 All parents have to do to win the $12,445 prize is to visit Care.com before Oct. 9 and sign up for a free Basic Membership or subscribe for a full Premium Membership. Or if they're already a Care.com member, they can register through their homepage.

On the move...

Ruby has been army crawling for quite awhile now and has taken a few crawling steps in the last week or so.  Tonight she must have realized that she could really crawl because all of a sudden she just went across the room.  She is so cute I can hardly even stand it!

It has been awhile...

Things have been pretty busy around here lately and I have severely neglected my blog.  I thought I'd have more time on my hands once Jack started school, but so far that hasn't been the case.

I started watching two awesome little girls last month.  One of them comes over four days a week and the other has been coming one day a week.  They are both ridiculously cute, have great little personalities, and we have been having so much fun with them.  They keep me entertained and on my toes!

Jack started kindergarten on August 20th and is really enjoying it so far.  I walked him back to the playground the first few days and his Uncle Sam met him out front and walked back with him a couple days as well.  After that he was ready to do it on his own and I just pull up at the curb and drop him off.  He makes me smile every morning because as all the kids slowly walk to the back of the school, Jack runs as fast as he can, darting around kids the whole way.  Jack also started fall soccer a couple of weeks ago and he had his first game last weekend.  Bret is coaching his team again which is fun for Jack.

Ruby is a busy little bee these days.  She can easily get up on her hands and knees but drops down to her belly and scoots when it is time to move.  Last week she figured out how to pull herself up to standing and then this weekend figured out how to get to a sitting position as well.  She seems to lack the out of sight out of mind characteristic that most babies possess and seeks out whatever it is you just took from her.  She has a feisty little attitude and I have a feeling she is going to give us more than a run for our money.  She'll be 9 months old on Friday and has a check up that day as well. 

 

Thirsties Giveaway from Barefoot Mommies

I love to enter contests and giveaways, but really really love it when the item being given away is something I really love.  This giveaway (Thirsties Duo Wrap Review and Giveaway) is one I really want to win because I love these diaper covers!  I just bought two a couple weeks ago to try and they are fabulous.  I've always loved Thirsties brand cloth diapers (and they are even made in Colorado which makes me love them more!) and I have been super happy with the new Duo Wraps.   

Drunk girls + short dresses + dancing = Bad idea

On Friday night I went to a bar to watch my brother Ryan play a show.  These days, every time I attend a music event I feel very, well...old...and oh, so much wiser.  As I sat and witnessed a table of young ladies complete idiots celebrating one of the girl's 21st birthday, I couldn't help but hope that I am able to guide my daughter into a more classy adult existence. 

Don't get me wrong, I am all about fashion, but first and foremost I feel that it is very important for people to...
 1)  Know what size they actually wear and purchase accordingly.
 2)  Take a good look in the mirror prior to leaving the house, and be brutally honest with yourself.  (Just because you really, really love an outfit on the hanger, doesn't mean you are capable of wearing it appropriately in public.)
 3)  Take note of behavior modifications that will be necessary while in public as a result of your wardrobe decisions.

This group of girls at the bar that night didn't take any of those things into consideration...dresses were much too tight, much too short, they looked like idiots trying to walk in their super high heels, and the more alcohol they consumed, the less they remembered they were in fact wearing super short dresses and not jeans.  The dance moves were ridiculous, crotch shots were plentiful, and they were completely unaware of all the people laughing at them throughout the night. 

It always entertains me that these girls honestly feel like they are looking super hot and are busting out the most impressive of dance moves.  I would love to watch themselves look in the mirror prior to going out and understand what is going through their head.  Are they honestly thinking "I look super hot tonight.  Clown makeup is awesome, this dress barely covers my big ass...I am super sexy?"  I think it would be a hilarious requirement of just one of their evenings out to have one person video taping the nights events and then to make everyone sit and watch it the next day.  Oh, how I would love to see their faces. 

After I witnessed one girl fall down right in front of me, (sadly, only a couple people saw this and I almost died  laughing when my brother said into the mic "Way too many people just missed that shit!") we made a fun little game out of it...that girl with the skunk hair will definitely flip her hair 10 times in the next minute, the one in the ridiculously unflattering and short blue dress is going to  move wrong and show her butt soon, and the newly 21 year old will certainly fall down during one of her crazy dance solos.  (I am still baffled because how she managed to stay on her feet after all those drinks and all that stupid jumping around is beyond me.  I like to think she did eventually fall even if I didn't get to see it.)  

I have no problem with having some drinks and doing a little booty shaking, but please, for the love of all that is holy, wear pants next time.

Oh, and take some dance lessons while you are at it.

Furthermore, if one of you happens to come across my blog, my advice for you is to worry less about the fact that I've posted your picture without your authorization, and more about why it was posted in the first place.

 

One funny boy

Last night I ventured out of the house on my own to go watch my brother Ryan play a show.  I got Ruby to bed before I left and was quite hopeful that she would behave for Bret and stay asleep.  She won't take a bottle, but sleeps through the night so I didn't think it would be a problem.  Well, as luck would have it, she decided not to sleep through the night and woke up at about 12:30am and was less than thrilled that I wasn't there.  Bret managed to get her back to sleep, but it wasn't an easy task and she screamed for awhile.  We were just discussing it and Bret asked Jack if he woke up to all of Ruby's crying.  His response was very matter of fact..."No, my ears were shut off." 

I freaking love that kid.

Me? Irrational? Never.

Saturday morning I put a leash on the poodle, we stepped out of Bret's mom's house into the beautiful sunshine, and then spent a glorious 60 minutes running/walking around town.  It was one of the most enjoyable experiences I've had in awhile.  The weather was absolutely gorgeous, I was able to run farther without stopping than I have since before getting pregnant with Ruby, and I thoroughly enjoyed being able to think without any sort of interruption.  What do you get when I am granted 60 minutes of mind clearing freedom?  A new blog entry.

I grew up in the country.  Our only neighbors were my grandparents, and their house was at least 100 yards away.   I wasn't denied human interaction by any means, but I did not experience any sort of "city" life until I was almost 15...at which point I moved to an actual neighborhood, but in a town of only 6000 people so it really doesn't even count.  Where am I going with all of this?  Well, all of that led to my completely irrational fear of being followed, then kidnapped, and then never to be seen or heard from again.

I played outside all the time when I was a kid, but with no interaction from the outside world.  We lived in the country and we had a lot of land.  Neighbors were simply the house you could see across the creek or at the other end of the pasture and across the highway, and weren't people who were ever close enough to talk to.  We had a driveway that was a quarter mile long and only ran to our house, so there wasn't any other traffic on it other than my family.  I loved it, but in the long run it helped me develop an irrational fear and become an often paranoid individual. 

I remember being around seven and going to a friend's house in a very small town near us.  They lived really close to a school and we were allowed to walk there to play.  My friend and her siblings thought nothing of the experience I'm sure, but for me it was new and frightening.  For whatever reason, I was convinced that every car that passed us was going to stop and kidnap us.  Here I am over 20 years later and no matter how irrational it may be, I am still convinced that the same thing is going to happen. 

I don't like being out and about by myself.  If I am driving at night I always manage to convince myself that someone is following me.  All it takes is a car taking more than one of the same turns I take, and then I watch the car in my rear view mirror like a hawk making sure they aren't following me back to my house.  I hate going on walks by myself because someone is surely going to pull over, jump out and grab me, and then I'll never be heard from again.  I now take the dog with me when I go, but don't really feel any better because, well, he is a poodle with a fluffy ball of fur for a tail.  Even at 75 pounds with a head that is waist high, he is not exactly intimidating. 

Before I went out to run/walk on Saturday morning I consulted Bret for quite some time about where I should go.  I struggle with outdoor exercise because I don't want to go on busy streets, yet I'm way too paranoid to go too far off the beaten path.  He gave me some ideas and I headed out...fluffy tailed poodle and all.  I discovered on this adventure that my slightly ridiculous behavior is not entirely unjustified....people do slow down sometimes when they pass me.  During that 60 minutes I watched as multiple cars slowed as they passed me, felt my heart race for a minute until I was sure they weren't turning around to come back for me, and then eventually came to a realization about what was going on.  They aren't slowing down to see if I am worth kidnapping (in fact they rarely looked directly at me), they slow down to figure out what kind of dog to admire the majestic poodle.  You see, Dupree is a Parti Poodle, and not many people have seen dogs like him.  Standard poodles are not uncommon, but the Parti variety isn't seen as often.  His spots throw people off and lots of people who see him will ask what kind of a dog he is. 

I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that it was the poodle that people were admiring, and not the mom of two who was out trying to burn off the last of her baby weight.  :)