Sleepless

It's the middle of the night and I can't seem to fall back to sleep. Instead of laying in bed thinking and staring wide eyed at the ceiling, I figured I'd try to blog my way back to sleep.

It's raining. I love the sound of the rain as it grows in intensity and begins to dance with the low rumble of the passing train.

I know someone who recently started a website business. Essentially he is a T-shirt maker who requires his cotton supplier to pay him to use their cotton. Sounds sustainable to me...

The No Shit, Asswipe MSNBC headline of the week: "Economy Slows Growth in Some Areas."

This weekend we had a great party at our house. We kept the kids this time instead of dumping them off at the grandparents house, and I'm happy with that decision. It made me feel like I was totally embracing my life, rather than trying to escape it. I love the fact that I'm at a place where I can enjoy a few beers and still nail all of my responsibilities. You don't have to be a dry mom to be a good mom. You heard it here first!

Something funky is going on with my left eye. It doesn't look red or feel super itchy, but on Sunday when I woke up it was puffy and sorta swollen. Then my face was red in one specific spot next to my nose. I'm sure I have some rare sinus disease that will eventually lead to my death, or at least gradually and completely impair all senses on the left side of my head.

I wish I didn't leave my book at my parents house. I could sooo finish it right now. I'm reading "New Moon" (thanks Natalie) and I've had 60 pages left for about a week.

When people say they don't have time for something, it really means that they refuse to MAKE time for it. I guarantee that every minute of your day is not used up doing something you absolutely HAVE to do. Enter priorities...

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Today I Cried at Cracker Barrel

This morning I was running late for Keira's dentist appointment AND I couldn't find my phone. I always lose my phone and keys and it always makes me feel small. Somehow I can't seem to overcome this flaw, but anyway...we made it to the dentist only 10 minutes late and I did a really good job at not letting our lateness ruin my mood. I figured - I can't change the fact that we are late, so I need to just accept it and move on. And I did. Keira did a fanstastic job. She let them take x-rays and she got a top notch report. No cavities, no plaque, excellent spacing...perfect.

Against my instincts I decided that it would be nice if we did something special to 'celebrate' Keira's dental performance. So we went, for breakfast, to Cracker Barrel. I don't do things like this with the girls often, because quite frankly I am intimidated by a 2 to 1 kid to adult ratio in public when the '2' are my girls and the '1' is me. I am not ashamed to admit this. So as I said, we went to Cracker Barrel...

The host sat us at a table in the main area not too far from an oversized group of about 20 people. Aside from the large group, it wasn't super busy. Most of the tables were empty. I did my best to entertain the kids (mostly Kristen, Keira is pretty self sufficient), but after 10 minutes without anyone even aknowledging us I began to get anxious. I almost got up and left right then and I really should have. I waited for 5 more minutes then kindly said to a waitress who was paying wonderful attention to the tables all around us, "Excuse me. I don't know who is in charge of our section, but no one has taken our order yet and we've been here for quite a while." So you, well, I anyway, would think that she'd pick up the slack and say something like, "I'm so sorry. What would you like?" But she didn't. Instead she chose the incompetent route with, "Oh. I don't know. Let me go find out." So a different lady came over and I efficiently ordered our meal.

An average amount of time later, my food arrived, hand delivered by some other dude from the back. The only problem is that they didn't bring Keira's pancake. I did my best to assure Keira her pancake would be right out, and I repeatedly asked her if she wanted some of my french toast in the meantime. She declined of course because she didn't want french toast. If she wanted french toast, she would have ordered french toast. She wanted a pancake. That's it. Simple. A fucking pancake. So we waited for about 10 minutes more and I made agitated eye contact with our waitress. At this point Keira's eyes were filled with tears. The waitress rushed right over and placed our bill on the table, turned to Keira and said, "Oh are you unhappy?" I responded on Keira's behalf with, "Yes. Where's her pancake?" She said, "I'm so sorry, I thought they brought it out! It will be right up."

The pancake came quickly then, however, order was not restored to our table, as Kristen had already eaten and she was ready to go. Keira and I rushed through the rest of our breakfast and the manager came over to say she would be taking the pancake off the bill. A small gesture that did nothing to help me overcome the feeling of defeat this whole fiasco had caused.

Off to the cash register to pay. It's all over right? Wrong. Kristen on my hip, Keira by my side, bags on my shoulder and we head towards the store part of the place. Kristen demands, "Cup. Cup. Cup," as she wants to hold the cheesy plastic lided resteraunt cup. "Okay," I say, "Donnn't spill it. Be careful." I turn around and it tumbles (in slow motion of course) into a display, breaks open, and then splashes a 1 foot radius circle on the floor. At that point it took every ounce of restraint I had not to burst into tears like a hysterical lunatic. My eyes filled up with tears, as I avoided eye contact with everyone, paid, and raced for the exit. Thankfully I made it to the car before my tears headed south of my eyes. I cried quietly the whole way to my moms and for a little while after I got there.

It was weird for me because I don't usually break down like that. It was unfamiliar, yet refreshing. I felt soft. Vulnerable. Human.

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Tripe

"Tagless shirts" aren't really tagless. They just move the tag from the back collar seam to the side seam. Instead of an itchy back or neck you get an itchy side.

Relocation is not innovation.

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Oops I Bought a Country Song

I do not like country music. If ever you asked me what kind of music I DO like, I would most probably answer, "Oh, I dunno, lots of stuff, anything really...except Country." Then today something happened. On the way to pick Keira up from school I caught the tail end of Fresh Air - the portion of the radio program during which they do music or movie reviews. Most days I end up half listening, but today I was drawn in by warm, inviting, playful melodies that refused to be tuned out. I utilized iTunes to find and then purchase 2 songs by the artist...a "country" artist, thus breaking my cardinal rule of music. I'll let you guess the artist, but I will tell you that while I was listening I recalled the sounds of Jewel, Michelle Branch, and Lisa Loeb.

Back

We'll, last night at midnight, we returned from a week long Thanksgiving "vacation" in NY. It was successful in the sense that we all survived, however, I feel like I just stepped out of a black hole that I stumbled into a week ago. Here are a few summary lists I compiled on the trip:

Things I Learned, Realized, or Rediscovered
1. Kids always have more fun than adults
2. I like hosting company more than I like being company.
3. I still need my parents.
4. I don't appreciate the simple things enough, and I don't know how to change that.
5. Sometimes it's easy for me to feel out of place.
6. Excercise DOES reduce stress.
7. Drunk people always seem to be having more fun.
8. The only difference between a fun drunk person and an obnoxious asshole is which side of the bottle you're on.
9. Near total darkness by 4:30 pm sucks.
10. Hot chocolate tastes best when you are really cold.
11. I am an oxymoron.
12. Everyone thinks drama is annoying unless it is their own.
13. Everything is better with whipped cream.
14. My physical appearance is starting to mean more to me than I'd like it to.
15. Every trip should have a theme song.
16. Difficult things gradually become easier as they evolve into a routine.
17. I am an Arizonan who used to live in NY, not a New Yorker who lives in AZ.
18. All things are brighter in AZ - the sun, the people's faces, and the future.

Things I Did Not Do
1. Drive
2. Cook
3. Wear sunglasses
4. Shave below my waist
5. Listen to NPR

Good Things that Came in Twos
1. On day 5 we found 2 ladybugs in our hotel room.
2. I worked out in the hotel gym 2 times.
3. On day 6 I ate 2 hot fudge sundaes within 3 hours.

Random Things I Enjoyed
1. Grandma's Style pizza
2. The smell of the hotel corridor and the manner in which it became more familiar with each passing day.
3. Showing Keira the town I grew up in...my old house, schools, playground, etc.
4. Listening to the girls 'ooh and ahh' as we drove past Christmas lights.
5. Hair and skin that didn't constantly feel dry.
6. My Aunt Ruthie's homemade apple pie.
7. Having good health insurance.

Don't Ever Let This Happen

Somehow, someway, today, a diaper found its way into our washing machine. Maybe a ska troll chucked it in there. Maybe an absent minded parent got it mixed up with the laundry. Who knows. Knowing exactly how it got there is irrelevant, for it doesn't change the fact that it was there. Also, before I go any further - no, it was not a dirty #2 diaper.

Anyway, the reason a diaper can hold so much baby pee is because it contains lots and lots of little tiny gel bead type things that expand very much, and almost seem to multiply, when they get wet. I saw many of them first hand this morning as I opened up my washing machine cover to discover all of the clothes covered in these expanded gel beads performing at their best. Clumps of them, as well as random ones, scattered about throughout the entire load of laundry and covering the bottom & sides of the washing drum.

Thankfully I have a husband who is down like a mofo when it comes to teamwork. He vacuumed out the washing machine and laundry room floor while I hosed down our underwear in the backyard to get rid of the gel beads.

Why can't diapers be filled with fabric softener?

11.15.8

Today was a good day.

Early this morning I imported a bunch of music to iTunes which was a very much overdo activity. I'm trying to get my library in decent shape before our Thanksgiving week trip to NY. Much progress was made.

Late this morning I took Kristen for a ride in the car in order to induce a nap. As I headed west on SR-238 there was a DPS dude hiding out waiting for speeders, which I was not. I drove for several miles until Kristen passed out, and then I turned around. On my way back, heading east towards the house, some douchebag with a small weenie in a giant truck came right up on my ass and then whizzed past me the first chance he got. As he blew by, I smiled a tranquil smile as I recalled who was waiting for him up ahead. Sure enough, about a mile later I saw that fucker on the side of the road with the DPS man flashing his lights behind him. Oh, sweet justice!

Early this afternoon I went to 4Peaks with some good friends and my husband and sis-in-law. Great food. Great beer. Great times. We proceeded on to the ASU game which was okay. My sis-in-law (Erin) and I bailed before halftime and went a nice little bar off University. Us old folks know it as the Old Dos Gringos, but it's now called something like 'Barney's Boathouse'. The waitress was about 9 years my junior, but after a short grieving period, I was okay with that. The bar was about 2 or 3 doors down from the church Brendan and I were married in, so I enjoyed a moment of nostalgia. We made it back to the car before Brendan did, which was SUPER important to me. I was gloating for the first 5 minutes, but after the first 10 without him showing up I was starting to get pissed. It took him like 25 min to get there. Serves me right for gloating.

Early this evening a stranger showed me his penis. As Erin and I were waiting for Brendan at the car, we were shouting off the side of the parking garage. Nothing important, just random animal noises and what not. Two dudes walking below yelled up at us in a most unoriginal fashion, "Show us your tits!" I quickly yelled back, "Show us your cock!" Well....he did. Thankfully we were waaay high up on the fourth level so I didn't have to get a good look. He was quite proud of himself, and as he pulled his pants back over his junk he responded, "Where's the tits?!" I promptly yelled back, "At your mom's house!" Then I was proud of MYself.