Never Say Never

"I never want to live in an apartment again."  Whoops! And here is my ass, sitting in an apartment, again.  Really though, it's not so bad.  This will be our third night in the apartment. We moved Saturday; it was the loooooooongessssssstttttt day. Ever.  And a small scale debacle of sorts.  The movers were an hour and a half late. When I asked what kind of lunch break they would be taking, the response was, "Well, if the clients buying, we eat whatever."  Mkay. That was not the question but I see what you did. You just insinuated that we buy your lunch and now I feel obligated.  So, what the hell would you like from McDonald's because that's what we're having.  Oh, you don't eat McDonald's because it's unhealthy? Well, your two mover buddies do, so let me take their orders and I guess you're on your own because I'm not making two stops. Fast forward to the part where we all sit down to our unhealthy McDonald's lunch and he pulls out a Powerade and a bag of Funyons. For real. And did I sit silently by and pretend not to notice? Hell no. I smugly said, I'm so glad your eating Funyons instead of McDonald's...it's way better for you! 
Now, these were nice guys. Educated too, not jughead meathead mover guys.  We even discussed theology and conspiracy theories a bit. I liked them. Okay, I liked two of them. Mr. Funyon was just okay.
Now to the part where Funyon gps'd our new address and somehow took our stuff to the ghetto instead of our new address. I was not happy.

Finally they show up at the correct destination and promptly drop and mangle my new upright freezer. I'm not happy. See a theme?  Really, it was like I watched it roll off the dolly in slow motion and saw the three of them not catch it. I clapped my hands to my face as my jaw dropped and I think I made a weird "eeks" type noise.  Now I'm waiting for the company to call me about the damage report. I intend to give them an earful about the three stooges.

On the upside, we're here. Our stuff is here. We officially close on our old house this week. I can almost hear that chapter quietly thump closed like an old dusty book.  I'm really enjoying the apartment so far. It sort of feels like we're on vacation and staying in an awesome hotel suite.  We haven't been to the pool yet, but I plan to as soon as Birdy gets feeling better. Poor thing has had a fever all day with a cough.  Crossing my fingers that the rest of us don't get it.

We will continue our search for a house of property to build a house on, but we're not in a huge hurry
because camping at the apartment might be fun for a bit :)

Fathers Day

I'm just not a fan of Fathers Day. Or Mothers Day, really.  My dad had a few redeeming qualities, but on the whole, he's an asshat.  I haven't spoken to him in nearly ten years, on purpose.  As I was growing up, he pretty much demonstrated that he (and other people) were more important to him than I was.  And, just to keep it short and simple, my real mom died when I was three. So, these Hallmark holidays have always stung a little bit.  I don't need to pay any kind of homage to my dad.

I wish I did. I sort of grieve the dad I never had.  It hurts that I'll never have a a male role model to demonstrate unconditional non creepy love to me.  I don't have a dad that thinks about my well being and tells me everything will be alright.  I don't get to cuddle up to my dad as he kisses my forehead and strokes my hair and puts my needs before his own.

The cool thing is that my husband is trying to be the dad he and I never had, to our daughters.  He even read a book called Strong Fathers, Strong Daughters so he could make sure he's doing it right. Or as right as anyone can hope to get it.  He's making an effort to be a great dad to our girls.  He gets on the floor and plays with them. He makes meals for them. He changes diapers and soothes cries, walks the floor holding a sleepless baby at 2am...without complaint.  He hangs out with them while I take a break for a few hours.  He treasures their smiles, hugs and funny things they say and do.  He journals about them. They are more important than himself to him.  We plan for their future. We discuss discipline and concerns. We co-parent. We care. I feel so blessed to have a husband who gives a shit (and more) about his kids. He's vested, interested, committed, involved, and sacrificing .  His girls mean the world to him and they will grow up knowing it.  I wish I could've been so lucky, but maybe this is even better.

Most Days

Most days I feel really blessed to be a mom. The other days I want to own a Jeep Wrangler and live like a bohemian in the southwest. I'd wear faded jeans, tank tops and cowboy boots all the time. I'd have a trusty dog to ride with me as the dust billowed behind us and the wind blew back our hair (and ears).

Where was I? Oh yes, most days. I have two of the sweetest little girls, ever. (Ahem, most days they are sweet).  So, Mothers Day weekend we were fairly busy.  Saturday my inlaws came up for a visit. They went to Birdies swim lesson with us, then treated us to lunch at Olive Garden.  Gram and Gramdad is what we call them. It's supposed to be "Grandad" but Wren says "Gramdad," which is way cuter.

They went home after lunch. The girls took really good naps (thanks heavens). Then, it was time to go visit my mom, who is too cool to be called Grandma. We call her "Grannah."  She lives five minutes from our house so it's really convenient.  My brother, his wife and their little girl, Briar, were there too.
Wren is only three months older than Briar so they have a great time playing together.  Autumn will be playing with them this time next year.

Gigi was also there. She's my grandma, also affectionately referred to as Big Toe. She has really long toes. She's about the funniest, coolest grandma I've ever known.

We cooked out burgers and dogs, sweet corn and baked beans. My sister in law, Dixie, made a strawberry cake. Beautiful mild weather and blue skies!  

The next day, actual Mothers Day, I hung out with Mark and the girls.  Mark made breakfast. Then we packed a picnic lunch and drove to Zionsville to the playground. We had the place all to ourselves and it was a lot of fun. Later that day the girls gave me a cover for my Nook and a card.
It was a nice simple Mothers Day :)   Yes, most days, the majority of days, I wouldn't have it any other way. 

I wuz cankles

Wren~

You're not really a toddler anymore. You're starting to be a kid.  The chubby budda belly is
slimming down. You're getting tall and lean. Those cankles are nearly gone too.  You were such a cute baby and now you're turning into such a pretty little girl.  You're thoughtful and sweet, always saying thank you and your welcome. You're just starting to pay attention to your baby sister. I swell with love when I see you smiling and interacting with her.  You also have a new bff. Our dog, Mya.  You share your snacks with her, even when I tell you not to. You love to take her for walks so you can hold the leash. I think your favorite time is when she lays next to you on the couch while you watch cartoons. 

You're asserting your independence each day, telling us, "You stay here!" while you attempt to go do something by yourself.  The other day while you and I were eating lunch you starting asking "why" to everything I said. I starting laughing and said, "oh no oh no oh no!" as I realized we'd hit the "why" stage.  You were hilarious; getting a bewildered look on your face, you tried to formulate a very complex thought and asked me, "Mama, why you say, 'oh no?'"  You were trying to understand my reaction.  It just made me realize how big you're getting and how complex your thoughts and words are getting.

You do have a habit of raising your voice, stomping your foot and crossing your arms if you don't get your way. Hmmm, I wonder where that stubborness comes from.

My favorite times are when you sit on my lap and snuggle. I say, "I love you Birdy," and you (sucking your thumb and twirling your hair) look up at me sideways and say, "I wuz you too mama."

I will always wuz you Birdy.

Love,
Mama

Wyons and Tigers

Tonight in the backyard Wren was yelling at our dog, Mya, to stop eating squirrel poop.  It was hilarious! We also went around the yard in a virtual "snowstorm" of dandelion seeds floating in the air picking said "danda wyons."  Wren is going through a very counterdependent phase right now.  I believe shrinks call it the "separation process" and the rest of us call it the "terrible twos."  She wants to help us do everything, which really is more of a hindrance mostly. Except when I'm making dinner and need her to rock her baby sisters swing and talk to her. Or when I have Autumns pumpkin seat in the big part of the shopping cart and Wren is riding in the rumble seat and I need her to turn around and smile, talk and rock her baby sister while I get some shopping done.  It makes up for the times she wants to help feed the dog; one piece of dog food at a time.

We have our house on the market.  I spend a certain amount of time stuffing mail, toys, stray socks and washcloths into various hiding places and then can't find them again.    Most of our belongings are in storage but the few that remain in the house keep getting shuffled in the name of keeping the house staged.  It's a huge pain in the ass. But alas, I can't wait to sell this house.  It's in a very busy part of the city. We live near a hospital so the siren noise is all the time.  Siren noise all the time will make a person edgy and anxious.  Give me a home where the buffalo roam and the skies are not cloudy all day....

Autumn is such a sweet and happy baby. She smiles and laughs more in one day than Wren would in a week at that age. I choose to breastfeed. Wren was a marathon feeder. She would languish on my breast for 30-45 minutes. She was a gentle, thoughtful feeder though. Never biting or tugging.  Autumn is much different.  She's a sprinter. She's done nursing within ten minutes.  If you look at my boobs though, it looks like I've been breastfeeding a baby tiger.  While she eats, she pinches, kneads and scratches with her sharp little fingernails.  And she pops off the boob with a lip smack so loud she wakes herself up.  Startled, she looks up at me like I did something, then grin.  Even her eyes smile.

My girls. They make me tired. They make me smile.

Chocolate Shake

Can you remember your very first sip of a chocolate milkshake?

This is my Bird at the county fair Sunday evening enjoying her very first chocolate milkshake from the local dairy farmers tent.  Her daddy is holding the cup for her because she's not even big enough to do that on her own yet.  I think a milkshake is one of those things that can transcend barriers dividing folks; age, ethnicity, socioeconomic status.  It's a simple pleasure that brings humanity together for one frosty cold, delicious moment.

We shared a sweet summer evening with our daughter and some old friends in my hometown.  We drove an hour from where we live in the city to spend time showing Wren the 4-H animals, eating "elephant ears" and cheering on our favorite competitor in the kids pedal tractor pull!  I always enjoy the opportunity to savor a slower pace of life.  One of these days....

And it was an adventure

So, I had a little talk with myself about how unrealistic it is to keep my baby in a bubble not to mention unhealthy...psychologically speaking. I put on my big girl panties and got over myself. We went to the lake. Yep, Boo, myself and the baby loaded into the car Saturday morning and made the hour and a half drive to the lakehouse. The little Bird slept the entire way there. *sigh* What had I been so worried about?
I spent the day shuttling her from the screened porch to the living room couch. Visiting with family and reading a bit of the book I brought. Boo and everyone else went swimming...I couldn't have even if I wanted to because of my incision. A lovely day for everyone. After dinner I nursed her and then we packed her into her carseat for the journey home. I wasn't worried one bit because she'd probably sleep the whole way home. Or not.
Fifteen minutes into the drive she began fussing so we pulled off into a parking lot and changed her wet diaper. No big deal. She should be good to go now.
Fast forward 30 minutes. Fussing and then furious cries wail from the backseat. We are between towns and there is nowhere to pull off the road so she's going to have to tough it out for a couple more miles. Finally we arrive in a little podunk town with a four way flashing light at the intersection. On one corner is a Dairy Bar that is already closed for the season so we pull in there. In the parking lot of the Dairy Bar we pull the Bird out of her car seat to discover the, excuse me, shit storm she has brewed up. It's all over her, her clothes, her car seat. Poor girl.
We went thru almost every last baby wipe in the car getting her cleaned up. We stripped her down and luckily I'd remembered to pack extra clothes. I wiped out her car seat. Then she was so pissed and wound up I climbed in the backseat with her and nursed for about twenty minutes to settle her down. Finally, we got back on the road. It took two and a half hours to get home.
Talk about baptism by fire. She really initiated us into the "traveling with baby" aspect of parenthood.

Weiner

As a new mama I am suspicious that I am of the "over-protective" variety. My girl will be four weeks old on Sunday and the only place I've taken her is to breastfeeding group on Wednesday nights. I refuse to let anyone bring their kids to my house for fear of germs. In fact I have imagined installing a giant bubble around my house just to keep her safe.
I've got to loosen up. I'm holding on too tight I think. Tomorrow my family is going to the lake cottage...including my husband. They're going to work on the dock so it's not a super fun day at the lake or anything. Anyway, I can't decide if I'm going to go or if I'm keeping my Bird at home where it's predictable and she has her bed. It's an hour and a half drive to get to the lake. What if she starts crying in the car? What do I do? What if her diaper needs changed? Do we just pull the car over? I have no experience traveling with babies. I don't know what to do. It's easier to stay home. Help.

12 Step Program?

Here is a small sample of the fireworks that were strewn all over our home office on Friday afternoon. Believe me, there were more than this. Lots more. My husband is passionate about fireworks. By day he's a mild mannered IT professional. He wears nice dress pants with button up shirts and shaves daily. His manner changes dramatically during Fourth of July weekend though. On July 3rd he drags out all the fireworks and starts planning and strategizing his "show." Then his analytical skills turn from computer solutions to combining fuses and bundling artillery shells. He designs platforms to secure the launch tubes. He even asked if I wanted to assist him with bundling the shells into spectacular color combinations...I politely declined and smiled at his obsession.July 4th our family assembles at the lakehouse for the holiday celebration. This year was almost a washout. We had a heavy, steady rain from 10am until around 9pm. As soon as we got to the lake my husband, brother and stepdad disappeared into the barn to admire the fireworks and discuss their plans for the big show that night. I plopped my pregnant rear on the couch on the screened porch for the entire day and chit chatted with my pregnant sister-in-law while grazing on all the food offerings. Now that I think about it, I don't think the guys even came in for lunch.

We all have our hobbies and my husband proudly flys his freak flag...firework fetish. The Fourth of July is his favorite holiday and far surpasses Christmas or the other biggies.

I couldn't resist this photo opportunity; our little dog found the perfect firework to pose with. I'm pretty sure this is how she sees herself; as a "junk yard dog." She thinks that's a picture of her on the front. Silly girl.

Oh, and the weekend isn't complete until after July 5th. My husband sets his alarm to be up and at 'em the morning after the 4th so he can go score the best deals on fireworks for next year. There is only a span of about 12 hours during the entire year when my utility room doesn't have fireworks in it. He used to store them in the spare bedroom but with the baby coming I needed the closet and he had to find new storage space for his addiction. Now the utility room is the arsenal. We're all stocked up and ready for next year and he's already thinking of ways to improve the display. I just smile and shake my head. My freaky fireworks husband. I love him.

Happy New Year!

I tried to think of a more original title but...well, there you go. It is New Years Day 2009. In fact January 2nd is only a few hours away now. It's been a busy couple of days for me. Yesterday was my 33rd *gasp* birthday. Yep, New Years Eve is my birthday and everyone usually forgets it because of the New Year, and I've made peace with that. Actually, this year I was s-p-o-i-l-e-d for my birthday. Exceedingly spoiled. I woke up to a "Happy birthday" text message..stumbled into the bathroom and began finding little birthday love notes from Boo. My stepdad called me before 8am to give me well wishes. I had already recieved a nice gift from one of my best friends. At noon my Boo sent me to a fancy spa for a massage and pedicure! I was beyond relaxed so I oozed home and curled up on the couch for a snooze with my dogs. Boo arrived home just in time to leave for the dinner reservations he had made for us. We had a lovely dinner at Sullivan's Steakhouse. They had a New Year's Eve package special so I had a lump crabcake appetizer, mixed greens salad, an 8 ounce filet served "Oscar style" which meant that it had lump crab meat, asparagus and a bernaise sauce over the top of it. The was served with a heavenly side of light whipped horseradish mashed potatoes. For dessert I had chocolate mousse topped with strawberries and blueberries. It was a very nice dinner. Thanks Boo!
When we got back home my mom and stepdad came over to bring in the New Year. We had some snacks...okay, they had some snacks..Boo and I were stuffed. Stepdad fell asleep at 11:30pm so my mom pushed him into the guest bedroom where his snoring raised the roof. Boo, mom and I stayed up chatting until 1am.
This morning stepdad made biscuits and gravy then I napped all afternoon.
2009 is already showing lots of promise. Some you smarties have already deduced the big announcement based on a few hints I've thrown out. Indeed, Boo and I are expecting our first child this year. I am thirteen weeks pregnant so we're looking forward to welcoming the little bundle in the sweltering middle of July.
There is more to announce but probably not for another three weeks..stay tuned for that business. I'll keep you posted on the pregnancy but it won't be a day to day digest type of thing...truthfully, I don't know much about babies other than I figured I'd have one or two eventually. It's been a hormonal, emotional saga so far. I was married once before and experienced a miscarriage during that time so when I found out I was pregnant this time all those thoughts and worries came flooding back. I've been a nervous hen for the past couple months. I'm starting to relax a little bit now though, however, the idea of caring for an actual little tiny human still freaks me out sometimes. Whew.
My hopes for 2009 are tall. I wish good jobs for my family members and I wish for Boo's continued success at his company. I wish good health to friends and family. I am thankful for everyone in my life because they've been placed there for a reason. I am thankful for my home and my critters and my reliable car. I am thankful for my wonderful husband. I am thankful for my good health, and this little life growing within me. I am thankful for the food on my table and the hope of a new President. 2009, we're all counting on you.

She's up to something...

"For whom the bell tolls...." I will tell you that there are some changes coming. Remember back in the early fall I said I could feel change coming but I just didn't know what it was yet. Well, now I know. You will know soon too. Doesn't that sound ominous? It's not really. Not ominous.
It's not one change, it's going to be a series of happenings. It makes me nervous and excited all at once. But I can't tell you yet because I don't have anyway of knowing who reads this blog and if the information got into the wrong hands before the appropriate time, well, that wouldn't be good.

So for now let's talk about the Turkey Day. On Thanksgiving Day my Boo and I went to his parents house for dinner. His lovely mom always cooks for an army even though only four people are eating. She got a new wedding band because her's had to be cut off her finger...she
outgrew it. I can't rememer how long they've been married but it's something like 40 years, she's due for a new band. She was so excited to show it off. The dinner was amazing as usual.

On Friday I did not go out shopping with the deal hunters. This is the first year I haven't gone since I don't know when. I just wasn't feeling it. There wasn't anything I needed.

Saturday Boo and I went and purchased a treadmill which is being delivered and set up on Friday. We're trying to be healthier. Or prevent bad health I guess. I figure a treadmill is less expensive than a heart attack in ten years. Right?
Meanwhile, I put my turkey in the oven for roasting. I tried something new this year, I brined it the night before. So I drained off the brine, rinsed the bird then stuck it in the oven. Several hours later my family showed up for dinner. We always have a good time and this year was no different. Boo and I have a Wii game system and everyone really enjoyed it. I hate video games, always have. But the Wii is different. It's great for all ages (they even have them in nursing homes!) and you have to be physically active to play it. For hours my family boxed, bowled and golfed in my living room. We sat down to a fantastic dinner, I cooked peas, corn and rolls in addition to the bird (which was so juicy and moist thanks to brining!) Mom made stuffing and mashed potatoes; my sister-in-law made green bean casserole, mac and cheese and cranerry cheesecake bars. I also contributed a homemade apple pie. Delish!
So glad we ordered the treadmill.
I'll keep you up to date on the big happenings, when the bell tolls, you'll be the first to know!

The New Dock

Friday night I loaded the dogs into the Honda CRV along with my husband and all our gear. Not only did we pack our regular "going to the lake" luggage, but we had to bring every conceivable tool that he might need to build a dock. Each male family member was required to show up with a power drill and enough stamina to build the new dock from start to finish in one day. I showed up with my camera. The guys built the new dock over at another cabin because they have a flat yard. Our cabin sits

way up on a a very steep hill. They figured this would be a more ideal location. This is how the dock began...My brother is attaching the floatation dealies. Once the floaters are attached, they have to flip the whole thing over to begin putting the decking in place. They are so manly.Here's my Boo and stepdad securing the bracing.The decking process begins.The guys are hammering the final board in place. Yay!The three manly men are trying to push that big ol thing into the water....
Turns out they needed to implement a little girl power.Look at that! It's in the water! It floats!My Boo and brother put a boat motor on it so they could "drive" it over to it's new home in from of our cabin. I think they look like Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer floating down the Mississippi. Right?Here she is at her new home. She will connect to the steps with a ten foot gangplank. This dock will serve many years at our cabin. She will rise and fall with the lake level, weather many season changes, feel the pitter pat of tiny feet, serve as a launch pad for our dogs as we throw sticks for them to fetch, patiently watch future children learn to swim and lie in silent counsel for moments of much needed retreat. Built with love for the enjoyment of the whole family.

The Old Dock

Here's the old dock at the lake. You can see that it's in pretty bad repair. And what in tarnation is that ugly green thing? Well, that my friends is my grandpas answer to a "boathouse." It has always looked incredibly out of place, an eyesore if you will. My grandpa didn't give a hoot about appearances. Practicality and functionality was his concern. Oh, and frugal...he was frugal. The man was an optometrist, I suppose he probably did pretty well financially, but you would never know it. He never felt that he needed to keep up with the Jones' or any other family that lived beyond their means. So, this is our old dock. It's gone now...we tore it out. I thought I'd share some photos of the demolition....





The guys are cleaning out the dock box, where motors and batteries are stored. Apparently it is also a shelter house for single mouse mothers (say that ten times fast). We found a mother mouse and three babies. She was evicted.

Here she is on the steps looking down at one of the babies. They eventually scampered off into the woods.That's my Boo wrestling a post in the water. My stepdad and brother look like they're taking a break, don't they?
Farewell old dock. Good ridance green thing. The new dock will be constructed this weekend, stay tuned for pics.

The Lake

We went to the lake two weekends ago to tear out the old dock. We are going back to the lake this weekend to build the new dock. One of my favorite things to do is scoot out of the cabin early in the morning to enjoy and observe the peace and quiet that I can only find there. Come take a morning walk with me...

My grandpa built this cabin 50 years ago. It sits on a small lake with some other cabins. It is the only remaining place from my childhood that I can still go to. It's not fancy but so many memories live there and so many more are waiting to be made.

Can't wait

I've been anticipating this morning all week. My Boo and I got to sleep in, in fact, he's still asleep. We are going to pack up, load the car, throw the dogs in and head out to the sticks for a nice relaxing weekend. We're going to the lake to hang around and be lazy. Today is also my mom's 50th birthday and Monday is Boo's birthday. I plan to sit on the screened porch at the cabin overlooking the lake and read, nap, chatter and go for walks with my camera. Boo plans to sit on the screened porch, drink some beer, play cards and eat. All in all, it will be a well deserved break from the grind. Oh, the dogs plan to swim in the lake, go for walks with me and my camera and sleep on the screened porch.
Hope your Labor Day holiday is everything you're hoping for, talk to you when I return.

Nothin' says Summer...

Like a game of "Cornhole" and a cold beer at the lake. Here are my fellas down at the lake a few weeks ago. In case you're not familiar with the game, it's pretty much like throwing bean bags at a hole. Except the bags are filled with field corn. My huz made the game boards himself and even got fancy and made a "travel set" that folds up. So, enjoy my cornhole photo essay!This is my huz. He's pretty proud of his "throwing form".

The next cowboy is my little brother. He's a cutie patootie. He hates to play games of any kind.This guy is my step dad, Big D. Any occasion for a beer is okay with him.

That's my sister-in-law next to him.

Remember the beer I mentioned? My little bro doesn't usually drink much but he has to get thru cornhole somehow.

My huz pondering a loss. It's serious competition.

Whew! The agony of defeat.

My brother does not care in the least.

We're getting together next weekend at the lake. The boys are tearing out the old dock. I'll be sure to capture the whole crazy fiasco, uh, er, I mean the whole manly display of ingenuity. Right. Stay tuned.

P.S. Mare Update: She's still at Purdue University. The results came back from histopathology, it was squamous cell again (I'm not surprised at all). They have administered one Cisplatin treatment, are also treating topically with Efudex. Another Cisplatin injection will happen next week. She's is healing up fine from the surgery. A little bit of banamine from time to time to keep her comfortable, think, horsey Vicodin. I'll keep you posted. Sounds like she'll be home in a week or so.

Good morning.

It's 6:45am this stormy tuesday morning. My alarm went off at 6am and I laid in bed listening to the thunder. I could hear the rain pelting the shingles and occasional lightening flashed through the curtains. Just a summer storm passing thru, no need to take cover. I do love a nice summer storm. When I was a kid living out in the sticks I'd sit out in the yard and watch the storms roll in until my mom yelled for me to come in so I wouldn't get my foolishness struck by lightening. My dad got struck once. That's another story though.
Anyway, we had a screened in patio that I practically lived in while I was growing up. One side faced east and I could see cars coming down the road (which was kind of an event because I lived on a slow county road) and the other side faced the woods, where all the magic lived. I could sit there all day listening to the sounds of the woods. Birds singing, squirrels chattering, an occasional mysterious crashing through brush (maybe a deer passing thru? or raccoons? squirrels miscalculating a jump?). Nighttime was the best, after the heat of the day faded into comfortable night air, cool, but warm..does that make sense? The kind of summer night air that caresses your skin and makes you close your eyes and breathe it all in. I'd just sit out there on the sofa, in the dark, by myself and listen to the woods. Locust (cicadas?) were typically the first
to begin their chik chik buzzzz see-saw rhythm. Mom called them "back-to-school locust." After the sun dropped below the horizon the crickets would commence the chirping and the nightbirds would warble...and there are also some crazy little tree frogs that could screech like something you've never heard before. Teen weeny things, big noise. I loved sitting out there. It was my solace and retreat. As a teen I'd sleep out there on the sofa every chance I got. The nights it rained were heaven, ahhh. I loved that patio. I loved that woods. Kinda bittersweet thinking about it now. The house was sold when my parents divorced. I was 24 when that happened. They sold the house and had a big auction. While strangers were perusing our things, our memories in the yard, I snuck off into the woods. I walked down the trail to the ash tree by the creek where all of my childhood pets are buried and cried. Cried for my pets, cried for losing my childhood home, cried for the break-up of my dysfunctional family, cried for the unfairness of it all. Cried because the auctioneer just sold my big old dollhouse for five dollars by mistake. And I mostly blame my dad for all of it.
I drive past the old place every now and then, when I'm out that way, it looks different...sort of overgrown. All the trees we planted are full grown now, the woods looks unattended to. My dad always kept the trails mowed. One of these days I'll pull off to the side of the road and wander into the woods just to see if any magic still lives there.

Hello Franklin Covey!

Gonna make a list for ya.

• I've been in Chicago for the past two weeks training for my new job.
• My new job is pharmaceutical sales; I've been working my ass off to break into the industry for five years.
• Training was brutal, but I felt triumphant at the end of the two weeks.
• I am home for two weeks during which I have two bridal showers (one of which I'm the hostess!), one rehearsal dinner, one wedding, 4th of July, two evenings planned with friends, one hair appointment, one dentist appointment, get the dog groomed, guests staying at my home for four nights, shopping for new work clothes, trying to find/see an new OBGYN, study for and take an entrance exam for another drug I'll be selling. Did I mention that I'm still working during the days?
• The guests are my brother-in-law C and his fiancee A. They are getting married July 5th.
• I have to leave to go back to Chicago on Sunday July 6th...for three weeks straight.
• Under pressure? Actually, I am scary efficient when this kind of chaos rears it's head. (Note the bullet points.)
• Oh yea, the new OBGYN...we're going to try to get pregnant starting in August. Ha ha! They say there's no good time, so away we go! Luckily I'll actually be home for most of August and September.

Groundhog Day

I guess I've been pretty busy since it's been one month since my last post. I'm so sorry to neglect you that way. Let me get you up to speed....

New Years Eve: Lots of fun, low key at moms house. We got a call that night that Boo's gran was going to the ER.

In the next week or so gran got progressively worse and had to eventually be moved into the Hospice center. Gran had a living Will that said very clearly she didn't want any artificial forms of life support. Boo's brother and A flew in town and we all hunkered down taking shifts at her bedside. Well, Gran hung in a little longer than we though she would. So, we all disbanded for a day or so and sure enough, after the last person went home Gran decided she would slip quietly away. She never wanted anyone to make a fuss over her. The funeral was in her hometown on a very cold and blustery day but most of Boo's family made it in town for the event. It was nice to meet them although not on great terms. I am happy for Gran. Only the people left behind are broken hearted.

So, now it's the first of February and I am looking forward to spring soon. Boo and I are taking our honeymoon in exactly one week. I've been shopping buying new sunglasses and shorts. I even bought a new bikini. Yep, a bikini! I've been doing Pilates and interval training on the treadmill. I am not where I'd like to be, but I'm close enough that I feel qualified to wear a bikini. I'm always going to have wide hips which makes my ass look wide ...and flat. And I've made my peace with my hips. One of these days they will serve me well.

The horse is fat and sassy. I haven't ridden in months because I am a cold weather weenie. The dogs are hairy and never seem to have enough attention. They are both laying at my feet below the dining room table right now. Farley is going through a stage with his nose. He has to smell everything, and not just smell it, but put his nose right on it. If you are on the receiving end of his wet cold snoot, beware. Boo got out of the shower and bent over to get something out of bottom cabinet one day. He let out a yelp that startled me so much I came to see what happened. Apparently, Farley's nose came up from behind and tried to root around Boo's man parts. I never laughed so hard!

Today I am trying to get caught up on housework which always seems to include extra work. I get overwhelmed and I don't know where to start so I just don't start.

2008

It's here. It snuck up while I was having cocktails. I seriously almost missed the ball drop on Times Square. Boo and I went to my moms house to celebrate my birthday and New Years' Eve, since they are one in the same. My brother and his wife were there too. Mom asked what I wanted for my birthday dinner and I decided I wanted Mexican food. So she and my stepfather went all out for a Fiesta. We had tacos, spanish rice, frijoles, tortilla chips and queso along with some chili pepper decor. However, one of the highlights was the large chili pepper pinata hanging in the front yard. Oh, but I'm serious. Yes there was! So, we sat in the kitchen and poured upside down margaritas for each other (except my sister-in-law because it's public knowledge that they are trying for a baby) until I was drunk enough to blindfold and spin around in the front yard. They spun me right round, baby, right round, like a record baby, right round, round, round. And then handed me a metal pole to smack the pinata. Let's just say they had to scatter at least once when I was swinging. After it was done and the candy had been spilled onto the ground my mother says, "Oh, even the neighbor came out on her front porch to watch, did you see her?" Now let's think about this...I was blindfolded.
I have discovered the quickest way for me to binge drink myself into a chattering dance machine is to do shots. I am, by nature, not a very thirsty person. And drinking alcohol is no different. I just don't drink enough of it to get a good buzz on. And let's face it, people like myself who aren't regular drinkers, just drink to get tipsy and have a crazy time every now and again. So, I had quite a few shots on New Years Eve. I'm just going to be honest, I really don't remember the ball dropping, but I remember somebody turning on the TV at 11:30 so we must have counted down at midnight.
Now it's 2008 and I have things I need to do. My blog will continue and hopefully I will have good things to post. Happy New Year!