So...as you may (or may not) know I have been a SAHM now for 6 years...that's right--count 'em....1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6....S-I-X. I've always been a bit ahead of the game so it's no surprise that the Seven Year Itch has nothing on me. Just in case you are behind the 8 ball on this, let me emphasize again that I am talking about 6 looooong years of being at home. Have to admit, after I beat the horse to death ( I am a big fan of this) and there is no more sign of life what-so-ever I begin to feel guilty. Guilty for complaining about having the luxury to stay home. Guilty about the fact that when I am home (which is ALL the time in case I haven't mentioned it) I am most often spinning my wheels. Mmmm Hmmm that's right...spinning away getting almost next to nothing done and wondering somewhere around 4 o'clock where the day went? To hell in a handbasket-- that's where. Except I probably can't find my handbasket, so skip that piece and just know it went straight to hell, hairpins flying all the way.
Just when I am feeling really down about this enters my friend Maria. Have I told you about her before? Probably not. She is an amazing person with the grace and beauty of an icon, but thinks herself quite the opposite. Her refreshing sense of optimism always amazes me and I told her so last night. She came over to get her hair done (yes.. Bubbleye is a retired hairstylist) and watch American Idol (which Bubbleye NEVER watches at all no way no how unless Maria is on the scene).
In any event she lifted my spirits made me giggle, sang with my kids and reminded me of the time she squashed a stink bug in her bathroom and the guts flew onto her lip...EWWWWWWW!
Thanks, Maria. Being able to stay home and hang out with you is precious. But I will still always ask, "How do you solve a problem like Maria?"
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Twinkling Eyes of Wonder
They will never cease to amaze me...the twinkling eyes of my three year old daughter. Last night we had a slumber party--just girls--in the guest room. I am truly blessed with her heart. She is one of the many gifts given to me that I cherish and hold dear.......
Have I mentioned the one with the twinkling eyes got sick--very sick--as in tossing her cookies last night in my son's bed? As if stripping all beds yesterday and washing ALL bed linens and putting ALL bed linens back on ALL beds wasn't enough! Shortly after 9 I heard crazy coughing that turned into all sick and smelly (gag) and put you right in the tub and wash it out of your hair and all "Oh, can you get me a towel, can you help take the sheets off the bed, can you get her new pajamas and (gag) my husband yelling back all "one thing at a time, blah, blah, blah!" and ewwwww....Oh and can you move Rocket Boy into our bed?.............This is why I had the slumber party. Four CANNOT sleep comfortably in our bed any longer....Time to get out the shrink machine and put them in it tonight,,
Have I mentioned the one with the twinkling eyes got sick--very sick--as in tossing her cookies last night in my son's bed? As if stripping all beds yesterday and washing ALL bed linens and putting ALL bed linens back on ALL beds wasn't enough! Shortly after 9 I heard crazy coughing that turned into all sick and smelly (gag) and put you right in the tub and wash it out of your hair and all "Oh, can you get me a towel, can you help take the sheets off the bed, can you get her new pajamas and (gag) my husband yelling back all "one thing at a time, blah, blah, blah!" and ewwwww....Oh and can you move Rocket Boy into our bed?.............This is why I had the slumber party. Four CANNOT sleep comfortably in our bed any longer....Time to get out the shrink machine and put them in it tonight,,
Monday, January 18, 2010
Train Wreck and Relatives...
The house is an absolute train wreck. I'm pretty sure this is NOT what Martin Luther King had in mind for his special day. Don't Break the Ice, naked Barbies, bow and arrows, a United States Puzzle and a Mega Volcano are among the many things littering my house after a visit from some relatives.
Oh...relatives....they are SO nice. Really, they are...but after they leave I feel like the maid at the Ritz Carlton...Ok, Ok, so maybe just the Marriott. Towels left everywhere..beds just left in a heap...been cleaning up the dishes from breakfast....feeling a little like an employee of a small hotel...
The good part is they had a blast.... I hope they'll remember that part when they're older and not the train wreck!
Oh...relatives....they are SO nice. Really, they are...but after they leave I feel like the maid at the Ritz Carlton...Ok, Ok, so maybe just the Marriott. Towels left everywhere..beds just left in a heap...been cleaning up the dishes from breakfast....feeling a little like an employee of a small hotel...
The good part is they had a blast.... I hope they'll remember that part when they're older and not the train wreck!
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Big
Big. That's how you can refer to me now....but only for a little while.
My son asked me two nights ago how much I weighed. I shrugged it off
quickly and told him, "I dunno."
Liar. I know exactly how much....TOO MUCH. That's how much. I know this not
only from the scale but because I had a life altering experience this weekend.
I saw a photo of me and it wasn't right. Oh, it was ME all right. But it wasn't the me I'm familiar with. This was a photograph of me walking away. You get the picture here....no pun intended. This picture showed exactly how large my backyard was. In fact, it was hard to believe at first that MY yard actually looked that big.
I decided it was time to take off the rose-colored glasses. The ones I put on when I'm deciding what to wear. The ones that LIE to me.
Tomorrow I'm going to WW. It's only 15lbs, but it looks like 50. Pray to the WW Gods that I can get it off. I can't afford this kind of landscaping!
My son asked me two nights ago how much I weighed. I shrugged it off
quickly and told him, "I dunno."
Liar. I know exactly how much....TOO MUCH. That's how much. I know this not
only from the scale but because I had a life altering experience this weekend.
I saw a photo of me and it wasn't right. Oh, it was ME all right. But it wasn't the me I'm familiar with. This was a photograph of me walking away. You get the picture here....no pun intended. This picture showed exactly how large my backyard was. In fact, it was hard to believe at first that MY yard actually looked that big.
I decided it was time to take off the rose-colored glasses. The ones I put on when I'm deciding what to wear. The ones that LIE to me.
Tomorrow I'm going to WW. It's only 15lbs, but it looks like 50. Pray to the WW Gods that I can get it off. I can't afford this kind of landscaping!
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Sad Day For Bubbles
Sad, sad day for Bubbles. Bubbles is--was--our goldfish. Well, my son's goldfish. Did I happen to mention Bubbles was two days old to us? Yep. He arrived two days ago with his friend, a black moor goldfish and all was good. Bubbles and Victor Martinez (the black moor) got along just fine.
This morning I woke up with a massive sinus infection/incredibly painful brain-bursting headache and saw that damn Bubbles floating dangerously near the filter. Dangerously meaning dangerously if you happened to be alive...but since he was DEAD, well...
How to break it to my sweet son who was so excited about these new pets? Bubbles was already his favorite...Should I tell him? The pounding in my head said, "NO. You can't stand up right now. It is not the time...he will eventually stop playing football in the indoor arena (where indoor arena could mean living room/dining room to some boring families) and notice that Bubbles is floating.
Right on time he appears and is looking for Bubbles. "Oh there you are!" he says. Shortly after he says, "Mom, why isn't Bubbles moving?" Tears, tears, tears. Damn you again Bubbles. This sinus thing is making me feel so awful--the kind of awful that does not allow your body to remain in an upright position for more than 5 minutes at a time -and my time for this morning is already up. I am consoling, hugging and carrying him to the couch. Did I say couch? I meant OUCH! Every single part of my body is aching and crying inside with illness and Bubbles had to pick NOW to die?
Now my son is calm and wants to call the neighbors for a funeral. I tell him they are sleeping. He reluctantly goes off outside with shovel in hand, Bubbles in his Ziploc baggie and prepares for his last moments with his beloved two day old friend. I hear him sing a few patriotic songs during the burial and have to both smile and wince. Sweet son. Poor Bubbles. Now I have to get that goldfish book out and figure out how to help Victor Martinez live the best life possible.
This morning I woke up with a massive sinus infection/incredibly painful brain-bursting headache and saw that damn Bubbles floating dangerously near the filter. Dangerously meaning dangerously if you happened to be alive...but since he was DEAD, well...
How to break it to my sweet son who was so excited about these new pets? Bubbles was already his favorite...Should I tell him? The pounding in my head said, "NO. You can't stand up right now. It is not the time...he will eventually stop playing football in the indoor arena (where indoor arena could mean living room/dining room to some boring families) and notice that Bubbles is floating.
Right on time he appears and is looking for Bubbles. "Oh there you are!" he says. Shortly after he says, "Mom, why isn't Bubbles moving?" Tears, tears, tears. Damn you again Bubbles. This sinus thing is making me feel so awful--the kind of awful that does not allow your body to remain in an upright position for more than 5 minutes at a time -and my time for this morning is already up. I am consoling, hugging and carrying him to the couch. Did I say couch? I meant OUCH! Every single part of my body is aching and crying inside with illness and Bubbles had to pick NOW to die?
Now my son is calm and wants to call the neighbors for a funeral. I tell him they are sleeping. He reluctantly goes off outside with shovel in hand, Bubbles in his Ziploc baggie and prepares for his last moments with his beloved two day old friend. I hear him sing a few patriotic songs during the burial and have to both smile and wince. Sweet son. Poor Bubbles. Now I have to get that goldfish book out and figure out how to help Victor Martinez live the best life possible.
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