If I ever write a novel......

So admittedly, we dropped off the face of the earth a few months ago, but we're back.....well I am at least, I might have to drag Meg kicking and screaming! Somewhere in the past three months life went haywire. Between joining a traveling circus, breaking a lot of things, attempting to uproot my entire life and the fact that I have to go to work at 6:45 every morning, I just lost the time to blog. Not to fear my lovely readers, I am here to stay, or until life gets to hectic and I lose another 3 months, but who's counting.

Me the Reader. I love to read. At 17 I would have bet my entire life that I would never say those 4 words, but here I am a fan of the gushy, smutty, romantic novels. I adore good authors like Jill Shalvis and Kristin Higgins, who give me witty banter, steamy courting and the "happily ever after" over and over again. Let's be real, woman love the chase, the adoration and the perfect ending. And since I have my happily ever after already, well there are books and chick flicks.....I mean, what woman can resist a good ole chick flick with a hot actor? I will spend my days, well nights, reading away every great love story ever written, but I often wonder where authors come up with this stuff...............and then it hit me, LITERALLY, the perfect novel for me to write........

Enjoying one of my few Friday mornings off, I set off to grab some breakfast and run some errands. After leaving the cafe, I hit the banks....unfortunately giving them money instead of receiving.....ran to the post office and then headed to the credit union for one more deposit. After taking care of all my business, I said my goodbyes to the teller and headed out the door. And that's when it hit me, the perfect story. By hit, I mean literally HE hit me, okay so I walked in to him in my lack of watching where I was going, but there stood the perfect novel; in his military dress uniform, clearly toned body, dark hair, gorgeous eyes, towering over me (Sorry honey.....I was totally picturing you). True to every novel I have read, I was the fumbling idiot of a girl that gave the perfect apology "ummmm.....yeah.....hi........sorry......excuse me.......ok....." and walked out the door. Crossing the parking lot I could see the plot unfolding in my head and story line building. This is going to be a great story one day. Sliding in my car, I switched on the AC and sent a quick message to Meg about my great idea, because if there is one thing in life a girl needs, it's a partner in crime. And who better then my partner in "all things smutty" Meg!

Granted, I am not a great writer, although I love to write. Let's just say grammar is not my strong suit, so I am going to need a really good (and nice, forgiving and willing) editor one day.

Rated PG

Brace yourself this is a Megan blog!  Yes I still exists, I've just been a horrible partner/blogger in crime.  Things have been crazy and to be perfectly honest with you my people when a chance to blog rolls around its normally at 9 at night and I'm more interested in a bowl of ice cream and fixated on the TV and.not leaving the couch.  It happens to the best of us right?

Tonight I felt compelled to blog about a horrible illness called parent guilt or PG!  PG happens for many reasons, late nights at work and missing bed times, crying when your drop them off at day care, or maybe not believing your potty training toddler when they tell you they have to goafter your 5th trip to the bathroom in as.many minutes and they actually end up peeing their pants.  I've experienced all these sources of guilt, but tonights dose of PG comes from a whiney toddler and a parent who lost their patience a good hour ago.  The hubs is at work, so its just me and the toddler, which is usyally a fun night.  For whatever reason though tonight was filled with tantrums, meltdowns, and "NO!" from both of us.  There was a lot of yelling on my part and as I.just peaked.in on him sweetly sleeping I feel like the worst mommy ever.  I feel horrible that I yelled, that I lost patience and truthfully I became a tantrum throwing toddler myself.  These days are few and far between and I know its part of the toddler phase but they suck and the PG sucks even worse.  I guess.tomorrow is a new day, one.with minimal PG I hope!I can only take it in small doses!

That's my even, anybody else.getting hit with a big.old dose of.PG tonight?  I'm going.to destress by watching grown men beat the crap out of each other!  It's NHL.playoffs.folks! GO CAPS!

The Dust Collector.....

I have probably mentioned this a time or two…….or ten, but we (or maybe it’s just me) are trying to move back to the southland. Knowing the Bovine Hunter was on call this weekend and nothing would get done in the “major projects” department, I decided some packing would ease my driving need to get out of Dodge. It’s not that this is a horrible place, I am just one of those people that once I decide to do something, I just want to do it, not take forever. And this is taking forever. However, that’s a whole ‘nother story, so back to my point.

I was in the loft packing some books and by some I mean that thousands we seem to own. Okay hundreds, but still it’s a heck of a lot, when I came across a “College Edition Dictionary”. And the following conversation ensued:

Me: “Do we really need to keep this?”

Doug: “The dictionary???”

Me: “Yeah, we don’t really need it do we?” (I have been throwing out as much as possible)

Doug: “Yeah we need it, it’s a dictionary!” (Like I hadn’t figured out what it was already) “Especially with a kid around!”

Me: “What’s wrong with Webster.com?”

Doug: “Keep the dictionary”

So, here's the thing, well two things really;

A) When is the last time this book had even been touched? Based on the amount of dust on it, I am going to go with 3 years ago (yes that's how often I dust) when we moved in and someone put it on the self. Needless to say, I am not one for things that just collect dust.

B) I always hated when a teacher would say “look it up in the dictionary”, well lady, if I had a clue how to spell it I wouldn’t need the dictionary now would I. And since I don’t know how to spell it, how I am supposed to look it up? I mean really, I could look all day long in the “na” “ne” “ni” “no” “nu” but I am not going to find the word pneumonia. Not going to find “phalanges” looking in the F’s. Even “phonetically” doesn’t start with the phonetic letter. You know what you get when you type “fenetic” in Webster.com? Phonetic, along with a few other options, just in case that’s not what you were going for. Clearly there is a logical choice here between "Mr. Dictionary" and "Mr. Webster.com".

But I guess some people are old school. Although I have very valid points, the dictionary once again had been packed up and ready to move. On the bright side, maybe it will be like my mom’s records were to me when I was little; they were so fascinating that how they used to listen to music. I am sure Aida will find it one day and talk about how old that book is and how we used to do it in the old days!

When's the last time you looked in an actual dictionary?

Short and Sweet......and Funny!

I love music, especially really good "Inde Folk" music. Yes, I did just make up that genre, but it should actually exists. So here I am, on my way home to have lunch, singing in my best (still horrible) voice to the Lumineers. Getting right to the good part of the song, where you can just feel his emotion pouring from the radio "Love......we need it now" (you know the part) when my car suddenly lurches forward. What the........I must have just been rear ended. The clear, obvious reason for you car to suddenly get slung into a forward motion, right? My eyes dart up to my rear view mirror, simultaneously glad Aida is not in the car with me, to find nothing behind me??? Confused by the lack of a vehicle now attached to my rear bumper, it dawns on me......

If one happens to be driving a manual transmission car and said car is in gear, then it is imperative that you keep the clutch pressed in. And if one happens to release said clutch without the gear shift being in neutral, then said car will suddenly lurch forward, which feels very similar to being slightly rear ended.

While deeply committed to my rendition of "Ho Hey" it must have slipped my mind that I wasn't in my automatic car. So after my embarrassing glance around the intersection, I restarted the car and kept on singing!

Women Fake It

Stop denying it, no judgment here. We all know it’s true at some point in your life (like my entire teenage years, because what teenager has a clue what they are doing……wait…..nevermind…..correction I was totally married before I crossed that line), but that really has nothing to do with this blog. I know, I know, you thought I was going to spill some juicy details about women and their love lives, but it was just my evil ploy to get you to come read my random thoughts of the day……

So, as I am driving to work this morning, on the radio they are having this contest. The DJ’s are talking to the woman that won and she states that “I am taking my kids to school and then going to work”. Female Dj says “So where do you work?” To which the contestant replies “just a consignment shop”. In efforts to not make it sounds less doom and gloom as the contestant had, female DJ replies “It’s not JUST a consignment shop, it’s A consignment shop, you get all the good deals first.”  Good attempt, but a fail.

I spend most of my shower, thinking of ways to solve all the world’s problems; and by world I mean my world, and by problems I mean all the things I need to do and what not. Doesn’t anyone else do this? No…maybe it’s just me. I mean what else do you do while you are in the shower? Nevermind, don’t answer that, because then we would be going back to the original topic of this blog and that’s not where I was headed, at least not right now, maybe tomorrow.

So I am in the shower thinking about all the things that we need to get done to get the house on the market. Then there is this stream of ADD thoughts that goes something like this; we need to get that……..so I need to pack that stuff up, man I don’t want to………how are we going to……..dang I forgot to take out the……..I need to make a list of…….how can I be almost 30 and not have a clue what the heck is going on in my life. Well now there’s a thought that stuck! So on the week’s eve of my 30^th, I decide to have this philosophical conversation, yes with myself (very profound I know), about the fact that somehow I am almost 30 and I have no idea what I am doing with my life.

Growing up I hated school, so at 18 the idea of 4 more years just wasn’t happening. It wasn’t mandatory, so I wasn’t going. With a slight brain in my head, I knew I needed to do something to make a living, so I went the way of the trades. “Beauty School” (which ps I hate that phrase, sounds like I am living in the movie Grease) was only 9 months if I went full time. So at 19 I was out in the real world, making the dough. I actually did pretty good business wise, but it never was for me. It was a means to an end. If you know me, I am not your typical valley girl stylist or way out there radical, I just like my jeans and t-shirts and pony tails. It was fun while it lasted, but I wasn’t really sad to see it go. After a move to the city, I went to work for a Psych Clinic. After one month, they fired the office manager and gave me the job! This is all great, except I didn’t have a clue what I was doing, sink or swim time. So I swam; I swam hard and I was a great swimmer. Then all the crazy just wears you down, so I went to a GI office to be there office manager. I loved it there. It was a brand new office (that looked like a spa in the waiting room), with two doctors that loved what they did and were all about their patients. And then the story of my life, we moved, again! With limited options in this small town, I went to work for the Assistant Superintendent of the school district. A job which I do actually love, but not one I ever saw myself having. My hubby, the wonderful Bovine Hunter, on the other hand has a “career”. One that I have moved all over the country for. He went to college and then back to college and then somewhere around $100,000 in debt later he has the career he has always wanted.

The point of this story is, I still have no idea what I want to do “when I grow up”, but that grown up stage seems to have arrived. We are in the process of moving again, hopefully for the last time and I have no idea what I will do when I return to NC, because I never had a career, I just followed Doug’s. Maybe that is my career, official follower, haha (do you watch the show The Following)! If I had it to do all over again, I would have went to nursing school. And yes I know that I could go back, but I still hate school, don’t want to sacrifice the time with our daughter and we have enough debit to pay back. So as I listen to the contestant say “just a” I went back to my solo conversation and wondered, will I always be “just a” job kind of person, “just” living day to day kind of person?

The Big 3-0!!!

Wow! How did I get to be 30?

Okay, well I still have 10 days to go, but it's fast approaching. It's kind of funny, I feel like I am letting down the "women united" because I am actually excited about being 30. I know, weird right? (Does that make me the exception? Oh I have ALWAYS wanted to be the exception to the rule!!!) Most women dread leaving their 20's behind, but for some reason, I am very okay with it! Now when we get to 40, I am sure I will have long ago stopped counting the years.

I guess I always felt like I was "a head of my time", an "old spirit" as my last two bosses have called me. I was always looking for that age that I would finally be seen as a responsible adult (although my once every few years drunkenness Saturday night might beg to differ) and not the "oh your still a child" (even though I have been married for almost 9 years and have a child of my own). I have been completely on my own since I was 18 (not that I will ever turn down a free meal from mom), was married 3 weeks after my 21st birthday, ran my own business, sat on a Board for a Non-Profit, but none of those things made me seem wiser in the eyes of my elders. So I decided 30 was it, that's the age when I would stop being "just a child". That was the age when people would stop seeing me as just another young person.

Well, now that I finally reached my arbitrary age, I have discovered two things; A) I stopped caring how people see me, because between working full time, being a wife and a mother, I just don't have time to care and B) people a few generations older than me will always see me as "the child" because when you have kids the same age as me, you see everyone my age as children. What matters in life if not the number we declare ourselves, but the way we live.

So as I stand on the door step of my 30's; I embrace my grey hairs, marvel that I have been with my hubby a third of my life and prepare to celebrate the next decade of my life. Bring it on life, I am ready to live it up.......

Seriously!

So after Doug's emergency phone going off at 4:30 am, him getting up at 5 am, he heads out at 5:30 am to see a patient. Which in turn means the dog is now going crazy in her kennel. So I get her calmed down finally, fall back to sleep, only to be awaken by a crying baby at 6 am. So I bring Aida up stairs to my bed, where she proceeds to roll around for the next hour, resulting in no one going back to sleep. I give up at 7 am and decide we will go to breakfast. We go down let Isa (the dog) out, get Aida ready and then go up stairs for me to get dressed. Apparently Isa wasn't happy that we were all up stairs, so I decide to let her come up. Mistake one!

So we are upstairs and I tell Isa not to pee up there. Well apparently, we had a lack of communication! I find that she has peed right in front of my closet when I step in it with my sock! Great feeling by the way. Now, if you have ever been in my house, you know that the hardwoods upstairs are also the ceilings down stairs. This means that there is nothing between the two and allows liquids to go through very easily! Liquids like say, DOG PEE!!!! So I go down to Aida's bedroom, assuming it's probably dropped into her crib. Luckily, I can't find pee anywhere in Aida's room. Saved!

We head off to breakfast to see Auntie Jen and have pancakes. Since we are heading to SU to the Children's Fair, we swing back by the house to let Isa out and change Aida's diaper. Might as well potty myself, right! Well good thing I did, because what do I find when I walk out of the bathroom??? Dog Pee has run down the wall and is puddled in the hall floor. Apparently, my closet door is over the hall and not Aida's room, hence why I couldn't find pee in Aida's bedroom. Mad, again, I put the dog out so I can clean up the mess. At this point I really am just thinking that if I didn't have a toddler I would just go back to bed and start over.

Well to top it all, Aida and I go outside to get Isa and you won't guess what happens next. I was squatting down talking to Aida about a stick. I went to stand up and a bird flies right into the side of my head! How does this even happen??? How has a bird fly into their head??? Me apparently!

So I am not sure that going to this Children's Fair is the best idea with the luck I am having, but here we go! Wish us well!

How's your Saturday going?

How Exactly Does A Bunny Lay An Egg?

Ready for lunch, I stood up from my desk, grabbed my things and headed out the door. Only to quickly be reminded by the brisk, cool air that I was "not in Kansas anymore" (also known as North Carolina in my version of Oz). Settling in to my warm car (thank you sun for your warm rays) daydreams of warm breezes, Easter egg hunts and beautiful children running around my mom's yard carried me home.

After spending a rather warm, sunny and all out gorgeous weekend in North Carolina, it's hard to come back to the cold of the northeast. If I see even a tiny snow flake again, I may cry my bloody eyes out.

There in my car, with the sun beating down I was reminded of what a great weekend we had. Not just because of the wonderfully warm weather, but also the memories that were made. Although my sweet pea (the little one, not the big one) was under the weather half of our trip, she was able to enjoy her first real Easter, full of festivities. This was of course her second Easter, but considering she wasn't able to actual participate last year we won't count that one. Saturday was spent with all the family; from hunting Easter eggs at the Waugh's, to coloring/dying eggs, painting rabbits and a family dinner at mom's. I am pretty sure Aida would have continued to following Grandma around the yard as long as she continued to drop eggs, so that Aida could pick them up and put them in her basket. Ah the joys of toddlers, they don't care that you weren't hiding the eggs or even that they were empty, she just wanted to keep picking them up and putting them in her basket. Every time accompanied by an "ohhhhhh nudder EGG" (seriously the cutest kid ever, of course I may be a little biased). What more could you ask for out of life than to spend a beautiful day with your family. Laughing, bonding and staining your skin to the point of it seeming you haven't washed them in months, maybe even years. A girl really couldn't ask for anything more.....well other than one thing.....

How exactly does an Easter bunny lay eggs?

I honestly don't know the history (nor have I "googled" it), as I am sure most people don't, but if you think about it why would someone come up with a bunny and an egg? Granted I don't know that a chicken would have the cute cuddly appeal of a bunny, nor does it seem right to hide candy inside of a plastic bunny (this might be slightly more feasible than fuzzy chickens).

So do kids grow up thinking that bunnies lay eggs?

This seems like a silly question to ask, until I had a conversation with a friend, who had recently had to explain to her cousin (legally an adult) who grew up on a farm that the eggs we eat are not fertilized and therefore would never have become a chicken. Seems the cousin thought that there used to be a chicken inside, that didn't make it, and turned into the eggs we eat. Confusing, I know, but then again we teach kids that bunnies lay eggs (well at least one bunny). So no wonder she doesn't know anything about where eggs come from.

I don't know if I ever believe the bunny laid eggs (I am sure I did at some point) or when I realized this was not the case, but it does seem like a funny tradition when you think about it. Of course I will continue to hide eggs for my kiddos.

"The Girl Who Was"

There are two certainties in life; Change and Death.

Although I have always struggled with change plenty in my life, I never give much thought to death. Admittedly, this is probably a good thing. Not sure how healthy it would be if I sat around and worried about my impending demise. However, when someone you know dies, you beginning to think about it. Whether it’s for an hour, a day or a week, it’s natural to grieve, to wonder and to worry.

Last night as I lie in bed checking in on the gossip of Facebook (Hi, my name is Les and I am an addict), I learned of the death of someone I knew. I didn’t know Chris all that well, but I knew who he was, I know his wife, some of his family, we share many of the same friends. I began to read all the loving and kind words that people were posting. The support they were giving to his family and close friends. The more I read, the more I had to fight back the tears, as the image of his children played through my mind, such young, innocent children who will forever mourn the loss of their father. I lost my father when I was 15 years old. I remember being angry that my father would never see me get my driver’s license, see me graduate from high school or ever walk me down the aisle. I don’t know, maybe it’s better that they are younger than I was, maybe they will be more resilient than I was. Then the thought of Aida losing either of us, well I just couldn’t even allow myself to go there.

With the thought of death already on my mind this morning, I called to check on my boss, when later than normal I still hadn’t heard from her. Maybe it was the events of the previous night and the unusualness of not hearing from her, but I thought “what if something has happened”? Thankfully, all was well, she just had a meeting that wasn’t on her calendar. But during our conversation she made the comment “With my husband being gone a lot, I count on you to know I am not in a ditch somewhere. You always know where I am and should be.” Very endearing woman that one! This made me think though, how long would it be for someone to notice I was gone? Of course people would notice, not saying they wouldn’t, but that thought lead to this one:

“What will be remembered when I am gone?”

Have you ever wondered what your life looks like from the outside world?  Yeah, me neither. Okay from time to time, maybe a little. Like most people, I live my life day to day, sometimes just thankful I made it through the day with some hair left on my head (a bonus that they are not all grey). I will never be that person that travels the world, building schools in Africa and adopting starving kids from Ethiopia, but I want my life to mean something. I don’t need a Nobel Peace Prize, but in my own world, my own reality, I want to be remembered for good and meaningful things. When I go (hopefully decades and decades and a few more decades later), I want to know that I made a difference in as many lives as I can, I want to know that I gave all the love I could give, I want to know that no matter what, I was the best version of me that I could be. I want to be remembered as the one who always had a smile on my face, who you never saw upset. I want to be the one that people looked up to and wished to be as happy as I was. The only one that can control all these wants is myself. It's up to me to put my money where my mouth is. Life's going to have bumps in the road, it’s going to have it’s bad days, but I never want those things to rule so much that it makes me "the girl who should have been”! I want to be "the girl who was”……….

It's time we put away our hate, change the world and it all starts right inside ourselves.

I have a Right

Before you judge, hear me out, as in read this entire blog with an open mind! I don’t normally do the “heavy” sort of thing, but this is one opinion I wanted to share. Yesterday, I learned what the red flag with the equal symbol floating around Facebook meant. And I have to say that I am proud of my decision to change my profile picture to show my support.  And this is why:

First, let me say, I am no historian and therefore some facts may not be exactly accurate, but this is my opinion. Our country was founded on religious freedoms. The whole point in some English men getting on a boat for a month or so, half of them dying in the process and then fighting some natives was so that you could have the right to your opinion, one form being Christianity.

Fast forward a few years, say the 1960’s and people began to fight for Civil Rights. As a woman, this has worked out pretty well for me. As I sat a work today, enjoying my job, I had the thought:

“Prior to the Civil Rights movement, in a country prided on their religion, Christian men didn’t think that I should have the same rights because I was a woman. This “man” thought that because it was his opinion, that it was the ONLY opinion.  How could any other opinion be correct if it differed from his? He is a Christian, his forefather’s founded this country, it must be so.”

Another part of the Civil Rights movement was the desegregation movement.

I have a big sister, who has the best husband and two beautiful boys. She is NOT one of the countless women who are abused by their husbands. They have NOT ended their marriage in divorce as 50 % of the country does. They have NOT had affairs behind each other’s backs. They HAVE been together for almost 20 years. They ARE an inspiration in their parenting and their love for each other. My brother in law, who I love dearly and his family, well he is African American. And again I had this thought:

“Prior to the Civil Rights movement, in a country prided on it's religion, Christian men didn’t think that African American’s should have the same rights. The color of a man’s skin made him more or less of a human depending on the pigment he was born with. This “man” thought that because it was his opinion, that it was the ONLY opinion. How could any other opinion be correct if it differed from his? He is a Christian, his forefather’s founded this country, it must be so.”

So I say all that, to say this.

I whole heartedly think you should believe in your religion, your faith, your ideas and morals whatever they may be. I do not believe you should tell someone that because their belief is different that they are wrong.

If you are a woman, you should stand up for others, because once upon a time someone stood up for you. Without someone thinking differently than the “Man” in the 1960’s, you would still be oppressed. You would not have the right to your opinion in religion, politics or the work place. You would never excel or find wealth in your profession.

If you are of another race, you should be thankful someone believed in a world where you could be an equal, where you were granted the same freedoms that a white man had. Without someone believing that there was another way, you would still be on a plantation, slaving away for nothing.

And if you are the White Man, you should be thankful that you have grown wiser than those that came before you. That you can choose to allow someone to have a different opinion without hating them and still maintain your own beliefs.

I am not asking you to change who you are or what you believe in, I am asking that you “love thy neighbor as thy brother” no matter what they believe. I am asking “thou shall not judge” just because it’s not what you would choose for yourself.  

I am asking you to believe in LOVE.

I am asking you to straddle the fence. To believe that two opinions can differ and still one not be wrong. I am asking you to believe that two people who love each other to the depths of their soul is worth cherishing, no matter what gender they are. The world has enough hate, let love provail.

Careful What You Wish For!

For the past few months I have been disgusted with how my body looks. After having my daughter, I quickly lost all but 4 pounds of the weight I had gained! I was so proud and excited since I had gained so much during the pregnancy. Granted, I lost 31 lbs in the first week due to the amount of swelling I had. Talk about crazy, I had the worst “Pitted Edema” known to man, I swear!  After doing so well to lose it all, I did an even better job at gaining it back x10. Okay, maybe a bit over exaggerated, but I am a woman, we can’t tell the real number.

Shortly before my trip to Vegas, I decided to move from the “Just Complaining” level, to the “Let’s Do Something About It” phase. So I started doing some work outs at home, got a cardio video from a friend and I was on my way! Although a week in Vegas killed all my good intentions. However, lack of progress and good intentions aside, I have been losing some weight. Just not exactly the way I planned.

Since returning home, I have managed to have stomach bug #1 (resulting in no eating), cyst removed from my tongue (resulting in no eating for a week) and now barely recovering from stomach bug #2 (which, wait for it……..resulted in NO EATING)! Although I appreciate the number heading down on the scale, this is not what I had in mind (although it’s taken much less effort on my part)!

Guess I should have been a little more specific when I wished I could lose some weight!

Moral of the story: If you ever find that genie in a bottle (not the Christina Aguilera version)
                                    you better be pretty dang specific what you wish for.

Warm Up Wednesday: Chief Edition

     We have missed a few "Warm Up Wednesday's", but since there is snow on the ground here in PA (note: It's March 20th!) seems like a little warming up is due! Not to mention there is snow in the forecast two more times in the next 10 days! I am beginning to think this Groundhog should be fired or shot! Early Spring my foot! He does reside in PA, you would think when he says early Spring he would at least be talking about her own state. Well enough about horribly inadequate weathering predicting groundhogs....

     Every girl dreams of her wedding day; the flowers, the music in the air, the dress flowing down the isle and the smile of pure happiness from her fiance waiting at the other end of the isle. What Faith Holland did not dream about was the anxious look on her perfect fiance's face and the sudden interruption from his best man! Several years after being thrown into a reality she never even dreamed aka dumped at the alter, Faith returns to her family's vineyard ~ Blue Heron Winery! I mean, talk about a family made in heaven, what girl wouldn't love to come from a family of wine makers. It's like perfection in a bottle! Except, what Faith returns to is hardly perfection; a town that is expressing their sympathies for being left at the altar at ever turn, a family full of more drama than ABC's Thursday night prime time, an ex-fiance who is the perfect town doctor/owner of Lyons Den Vineyard and the constant impinging with the greatest "Best Man" a wedding has ever seen. Yes what's not to love about the one and only, Chief of Police Levi Cooper, wedding crasher extraordinaire. Of course, then there are those sleepy green eyes (who cares if they are giving you a 8 on the boredom scale when they look that good), the tousled hair and who could miss those arms.

     Levi, although not bad in the looks department, sure has some serious aversion to feelings. (There were many night I wanted to reach in the book and smack him "upside his head") After a short failed 3 month marriage, to which his wife just up and bailed one day, Levi has decided women aren't worth the effort. That is until the reappearance of Faith Holland starts questioning his resolve. Sure there was that one time, 8 years ago, where they had a little spark, but they were just kids and she is his best friends ex for goodness sake (Seriously, man code or not, when your best friend "the ex" is rooting for you, then stop being an idiot) Of course, nothing test a man's resolve like a woman in distress, especially when that distress means she's hanging halfway out of a bathroom window with basically just a bra on. The Chief of Police can't just leave her hanging, right?

     I don't want to say much more other than this was our first book with author Kristan Higgins and I must say I was not let down. Of course when you are good friends with Jill Shalvis (my new hero), you are sure to write a good story. If you are looking for a good love story (this one is not even smutty), with several twist and turns you don't see coming go check out "The Best Man" by Kristan Higgins. I will definitely be checking out her other books.

Treading Water

"My house is lived in...." ~ my mother

The Good Old Days

     Once upon a time, in what seems like a far off land, I used to be OCD. Not clinically diagnosed of course, but surely self proclaimed. My closet, for instance, was not only color coded, but it was organized by the sleeve length and then color. My kitchen counter tops showed no signs of life in there off peak hours. Minus the fact  that I had animals, you could have probably eaten off my floor. Okay....maybe that's a bit extreme, but the point is I was organized, detailed oriented, an interior designer. So it sounds like the opening to a resume, a very good one I might add. Every week there was a menu made and a grocery list (the one thing I seemed to have held onto). I had spread sheets for my bills, grocery bills, credit card purchases. I could tell you down to the cent where all my money went (when you don't have much, it's not that hard really)! Hey, I impressed myself if no one else did.

Tornado Alley

    As I stand in the eye of the storm, I watch the chaos unfold around me. The thing about trying to stop the destruction of a force of nature is, you will fail every time. It's amazing how I can clean and clean, well I feel like I clean all the time, and then the little force of nature and the bigger less sever storm can turn my house upside down in minutes. The things that just sit around drive me nuts. I really don't mind the toys nearly as much as all the other things (dirty dishes, coats every where, random mail sitting all over the place, etc.) And don't even get me started on the laundry. How can a few people create so much laundry? I am pretty sure I wash clothes about every other day and still have several loads to do on the weekend.

     Many times I have been told "just enjoy the time with your kids while they are young, you can clean after they move out". Now that sounds all good and stuff, until I literally start to tweak out about the mess. I honeslty have physical and psychological reactions to the mess - yes I know I am mental. So all though it sounds great to ignore it, I just can't do it. I mean, if all those people that say that, never cleaned their house because the had small children, well then I don't really want to come over, I can imagine it's an episode of Hoarders. I am learning to let it be a little more, but I suppose I have finally reached the point in my if where "I live in my house"!

***Not sure how this is gong to go for selling, but we will see***

Friday Funday!

You may or may not have seen this, but we wanted to give you a little inspiration to celebrate the end of the work week and the beginning of the weekend. Whether you are spending the evening at home relaxing with the family (this is my life sans the relaxing), heading out for Happy Hour Drinks & Tapas or a night out on the town dancing, everyone can use a little motivation. So please enjoy and dance responsibly....

Kiss Them When They're Wild

We have entered a new era in our house.  An era, that I've read about endlessly.  An era I have seen friends struggle to survive.  An era that my boss once warned me about when he told me that around the age of 2.5 or 3 you will wake up one day and wonder why  aliens have taken your sweet child and replaced him with a monster look a like and more importantly, when will they be returning your child.  Yes ladies and gents we have entered the terrible twos. 

His favorite word is "NO".  And isn't just an answer to a question, but a declaration of independence.  It is often dripping with assertiveness, attitude and stubbornness.  If he is corrected or told not to do something, the tears and the screaming begin (I small glimpse into the "you've ruined my life, I hate you" teenage years, I swear). And ohhh does he have a temper (oops he gets that from me).  Don't get me wrong, he is a good kid most of the time, but some days it seems there is more bad than good.  We try to keep our sense of humor about it and try to discipline when he needs it, and ignore the tantrums so that we aren't playing into the attention seeking.  Sometimes I myself even become a little evil and ask him a series of questions that get stern "NO"s.  I end the questioning with something I'll know he doesn't really want to say no to, like "Do you want a snack?" and I get the "NO!" followed by a confused look and an "Oh!".  This game may or may not teach him a lesson, but it certainly makes me laugh and helps me keep my sense of humor during the terrible 2's! 

Again I say it isn't all bad.  I love his fiery spirit and the independence that is soaring through his little veins.  And today, when I needed some motivation to get me through the terrible 2's, God hit me with a 2.x4 via Pinterest.  I stumbled upon 25 Rules for Mothers of Boys and while the entire list was great, number 24 spoke to me and well maybe slapped me in the face. The tips was kiss them.  It discusses how boys "harsh, wild and destructive" most of the day (yep that's my kid), but how they also have moments of complete sweet, never felt so loved in my life tenderness.  We often love these moments and kiss and hug and all that good stuff.  But we need to remember to love, embrace and kiss when their wild. 

So as we figure out how to navigate the terrible 2-3's I will try my hardest to appreciate the journey my little monster is on to figure out his emotions and find his individuality!  This doesn't mean I won't lock myself in the bathroom from time to time or down my sorrows in brownies and wine or just plain throw a temper tantrum myself, but it means, I know we'll survive and we'll survive together!

You Had Me At First Smile!

I was having lunch with some friends today; one with a baby and the other couple with no kids. After comparing my recent mouth pain, which is a blog in itself, to the pain of child birth; the conversation steered towards all the pains of child birth, life with a baby and toddler adventures. I remember well all the things I "thought" I knew about babies/kids prior to having one and now I am on the other side of the fence telling my  "horror" stories.

It's funny that we always tell the horrors of child birth. Even after having a comparatively less dramatic child birth, I too still tell all the "fun" parts of giving birth. Whether you have a child of your own or not, you have heard all about it. Everything from the labor pains, the fear of pooping on the table, drugs wearing off, babies getting stuck and the ripping. Yes my friend it all happens and somehow we still call it a miracle and precious moment and then some where down the road decide to do it all over again. Pre-parent, it's amazing I even did it after hearing all the stories, but one day you see this precious baby sleeping and think "I want one". Then you have one and you start cataloging you own tales.

Which brings me to my thought. Why is it that we decide it's a good idea to tell the non-parents all the horrible parts? Partly I think it's just a right of passage that's passed down from generations and friends. Once you lived it, you earned the right to scare the bejesus out of everyone you know that has yet to take the plunge! And somehow, people keep having babies. Some two, three and four times! Seems the Amish think ten is a good number, good Lord!

The part that we don't talk about enough is the amazing moments. As a parent, especially the first time I am sure (since I only have one, I can't speak for the second or third child), every little thing is amazing. Maybe we don't talk about it as much because it does seem a little ridiculous to be so excited over a simple smile (who cares if it was just gas, your baby just smiled it's first smile). I remember the moments of PURE PRIDE! I never knew I was capable of such pride as watching my little one smile the first time. She started to recognize us and then she rolled over! Talk about pride, I cried! Literally cried tears of joy! She rolled over! Pure amazement!!! Oh, and then she started to learn to turn herself in circles. Who knew that spinning in very slow circles could be so exciting. It's probably about as exciting as a worm race for others, but when it's your baby it's like the greatest thing you have ever seen! Every step brought a new level of amazement; the sitting up, the crawling and then one day they take that first step! Watching Aida run around like crazy, it's so hard to believe that 8 months ago she took her first step! Talk about a "step for mankind"! Every time I would say "I can't wait for her to walk", people would always say "oh you will regret that"! Well, I never have, not once. I love running around with her. We have nightly running sessions around the island in the kitchen. Hey it's cardio, right? Then the words start flowing! The first few seem amazing enough, but then the sentence come and you just can't believe that somewhere along the way your little baby has turned into a little person.

I can't really say that I miss the baby phase. There are some moments, but for the most part we have never been "baby" people. Now though, I love this! The running, talking, coloring, playing, it's all so fun! Everyday is an adventure, some not very fun (hello terrible two's), but most of the time we laugh our heads off! She can come up with the craziest things. Even now, as I sit her and blog, she came over grabbed my hand and said "mommy, come, milk please"! It just warms my heart! And even though that milk is now being turned upside down on my rug, I still can't help but be amazed that she is mine.

I never knew there could be a love like this?

What moments have amazed you about your kiddo? If you don't have kids, but want them what do you look forward to the most?

Trashy or Classy? Who are you?

I came across a situation the other day and I found myself debating whether I should be “trashy” or “classy” in the way that I handled it. (I will try to not confuse you, but I am leaving out the specifics as to not offend)

So the story goes….

I was talking with an acquaintance (we’ll call them “Boots”, yes it’s sad Dora characters are the first that come to mind) the other day about a situation. Boots attempted to make a funny joke about the situation that wasn’t really joke friendly, so it fell flat. I ignored the lame attempt and continued on. Well it kept happening! Boots kept trying to make jokes throughout the conversation, but they became lamer and hard to ignore. This continued off and on for several hours, as the conversation would end and then later Boots would bring it back up. Now, it’s not like this situation was so serious and maybe with a different delivery some of the jokes could have been funny, but they just weren’t. Maybe it’s that I just don’t find Boots to be a funny person, but as the topic kept getting revisited, it seemed as though the attempt at jokes were coming at the expense of others. So now I am annoyed and over hearing about it, which is when I began my internal debate.

I could…..

A) Be Classy! I usually prefer to be classy. I am not one to be rude and confrontational about things. I am more of a just kind of walk away and not acknowledge kind of person, but clearly my efforts were not effective. You would think Boots would get it when I didn’t respond to the “jokes”, but maybe Boots isn’t the brightest monkey in the zoo!  

Or

B) Be Trashy! And by Trashy I mean Bitchy, but hey it flowed better with Classy! I really wanted to say “hey, maybe if you spent as much time on your life as you do trying to be funny you wouldn’t be a complete train wreck.” I mean seriously, if someone doesn’t react or respond the first few times, GIVE UP ALREADY!!! I just have a serious thing against people who are always negative, rude and hateful. That’s the problem with option B, if I go the “trashy” route, then I am no better. But man, sometimes you really just want to though, you know!

So what do you do? Are you a trashy or classy kind of girl?

The Only Constant Is Change

 Boy is that the truth! Parenthood teaches you a lot, accepting change is Lesson #1. Pregnancy does it’s best to prepare you for the ever changing world you are about to enter. There are the physical changes obviously, but all the emotional changes will rock your world. Of course, none of this fully prepares you for the baby that’s to come. It seemed like every time I thought I had it figured out, she would go and change it all up on me.

For a long while now, Aida has been doing great with going to bed. We had the few nights of fighting (I think maybe three) in the very beginning when we were teaching her to go to sleep on her own. This was due to the fact that she started fighting me every night when I would rock her to (not)sleep! She really has done great for probably 6+ months now. Every once in a while she will have a week were she decides to cry a little at first, but then will go right on to sleep.

The last morning of our vacation in Vegas, Aida woke my mom up at 5:15 screaming as though she was scared. I thought that maybe this was just a product of being somewhere different. Although she has stayed in that room many times, it’s still not the norm. However, after returning home it happened some more. Every few days she would wake up like there was something really wrong. Of course as soon as I got to her she would snuggle into me and go right back to sleep. The only thing I can figure is that my sweet girl has now started having nightmares. She must have had a pretty bad one during naptime at daycare yesterday because she woke up screaming and hyperventilating, which of course scared her teacher half to death. I really hope this is not a start of night terrors, not something I want my poor girl to have to live with. As a mom, you often have the “mommy guilt”, anytime you do something without your child you can help but feel guilty. Now I can’t help but be wonder if this is all because we left her for 5 days. She did great while we were gone, but maybe it messed with her psyche. Talk about “mommy guilt”, I already felt bad enough leaving her behind, but now that it might have caused nightmares makes me feel really guilty!

***Time changes were always fun too! Aida has always been a schedule baby! We are a little less so now, it doesn’t have to be spot on, but we still try and stick to the same schedule. The time changes would just screw it all up! Babies, for some unknown reason, don’t seem to observe Daylight Savings Time. The Spring is easier because it puts everything forward an hour, but the Fall bites. “Falling Back” sucks when you kiddo already gets up at the crack of dawn and then suddenly wants to get up an hour before the crack of dawn. So of course I am ecstatic that the time changes this weekend!

Needing Some Vitamin D

Winter in Yankeeland comes with a certain expectation of cold weather and snow. Growing up in the south we didn’t have a whole lot of snow, so I have come to enjoy actually getting some around here. I get that feeling when December hits, like a kid excited for it to be the month of Christmas, knowing it’s coming soon. Fresh white powder covering all the tress, houses and yards are the only times I find the winter landscape to be beautiful. Otherwise, it’s all just brown and gloomy. The February hits and I always find myself Over.It. You start to get those “nice days” which really just means that it actually makes it above freezing and out of the 30’s, then it turns freezing again. It’s like someone giving you a taste of Cold Stone’s Ice Cream and then saying you can’t have any more for a few months. Who does that? My Winter Blues was accelerated this year by our trip to Vegas. Nothing ruins you quite like walking around in the warm, dry 70 degree sun in flip flops and t-shirts, only to have to return to the cold, windy, flurries of the northeast a few days later. Don’t get me wrong, the trip was well worth it, I just wish I would have had some room in my suitcase to bring back some warmer weather. Thought it might put me over my 50lbs limit if I tried though.

As many people already know, Doug and I are in the planning process of trying to move back south. Planning, as in, we keep saying we are but I am not sure it’s really going to happen. So add my Winter Blues to that big ball of stress, along with a few other things going on and you got my life summed up! Okay, life is actually really good, but thinking about trying to sell a house is not my idea of a fun time. Trying to sell a house with a toddler on a schedule…..even more exciting! The “To-Do” list of things that need to happen before we put it on the market is adding up quick. Then there is the fear/hope that it sells before we are ready to move. Then what? I mean best case scenario (cause they always happens) is that it would sale right when we are looking to move. Fingers crossed. However, the likely story is that it will either sell way early and then we have to move to an apartment for a while or even MORE LIKELY, it will still be on the market after we leave. Who doesn’t love paying for a house no one is living in! Of course, this is all if we even make it to the putting it on the market part. As of yet, there is no job to go to and nothing on the horizon. It's funny how it seemed so much simpler when we moved here, but the moving back seems like it's impossible. For months I have forced myself to not think about it, but now the time seems to be flying by so quickly and nothing is getting done. It's just one of those situation that I find frustrating and feels so far out of my control.

So Winter Blues it's time for you to go, this girl needs some good old, warm, natural Vitamin D. Come on Spring, I swear that groundhog said you were coming early this year!

UPDATE 1- Purge, Paint, Peer Pressure

So we're back!  After almost a week of no blog, fear not, we're shamelessly, pointlessly rambling again.  Les was in Vegas for a week (yes, I'm still jealous and angry with her) and I was busy getting ready for my Dad's surprise 70th birthday, mourning the season end of Downton, pouting about not being in Vegas AND most importantly working away at that purge, paint, peer pressure list! 

I'm actually pretty excited with the progress and I seem to have inspired the hubs!  We successfully finished painting the kitchen.  Hubs also took the initiative to repair the back splash in the kitchen and we are onto painting the ceiling.  I am in love with the color (Winter in Paris) and a fresh coat of white on the ceiling will really make it pop.  I am busy hunting down new drapes and some other goodies to dress the new color up!  I almost died about 7 times, as my kitchen counter/step ladder balancing skills are amateur at best, but it was so worth and getting to check it off of our list was almost as good as a brownie, wrapped in bacon, dipped in a margarita.

There's been some purging going on to, as the hubs decided to let me clean out his dresser.  Sweet mother of all things holy, I have dreamed about this day.  No really, I've dreamed about it.  I've dreamed of tossing pit stains, tossing shirts that are so worn you can see nipple action through them and tossing shirts with stupid quotes on them that even make a college kid look like a jackass!  I even got to throw away a few navy blue shirts, which when your husband wears navy blue uniforms, likes the Yankees and Penn State, shedding any navy blue is a small victor.

So that's where we are.  Next on the list, purging some of my clothing, redoing the bakers rack in our kitchen and if I am feeling frisky it might play with a little wood.....mind out of the gutter!  I'm talking a Pinterest inspired wood working project!  What projects have you guys tackled recently?

Warm Up Wednesday- TJ Wilder

It is ^&#%$&#@% COLD in PA right now and this is coming from the Yankee Princess, so I am more than happy to be writing this weeks "Warm Up Wednesday" and spend a little time thinking about TJ Wilder!  TJ is the third and oldest Wilder brother feature in Jill Shalvis's Instant Temptation.  Anybody else wishing for a long lost Wilder brother?  Yeah I'm sad this is the last in the Wilder series too!

The story focuses on TJ and Harley, two characters we have met in the previous two books.  TJ is the typical big brother and is the Wilder that takes the long (week- month long) excursions for Wilder Adventures.  TJ is an extremely skilled outdoorsy mountain man, just like his brothers.  These lengthy excursions satisfy TJ's need to stay unattached and escape life and painful memories.  Those painful memories mostly revolve around the loss of Sam, his girlfriend who was killed in a tragic accident on the river kayaking.  Sam while experienced and skilled herself, often took unnecessary risks, and her death prompted TJ to become a very careful and prepared outdoor kind of guy and also a guy unwilling to open his heart.  Harley, is a local girl who grew up with the Wilder boys, closer in age to Stone and Cam, she's like the little sister they never had.  Harley is finishing up her degree in biology while moonlighting as a tow truck/mechanic at a local garage, all while vying for a position with a wild life conservation project in Colorado.  TJ and Harley have a strange relationship full of confusion, sexual tension and Harley's seemingly incessant need to shoot snide comments and dirty looks TJ's way.  When Harley sets off on a trip into the wild in any effort to land the conservation job, her least favorite Wilder (or so she says) tags along as her guide and what follows will more than warm you up on the coldest of winter days!  Along the way, we get plenty of other Wilder quirkiness, discover why TJ is the Wilder Harley loves to hate, and a thing or two about packing a survival backpack! 

I'd say Instant Temptation was my second favorite Wilder adventure (Cam and Katie's story reigns steamy supreme), and its a very close story.  I loved that TJ and Harley had a history and that once again the wild boy is tamed by the hometown girl next tour type...though growing up I don't recall the likes of any Wilder brother in my childhood neighborhood!  Sigh.... And it wouldn't be a Warm Up Wednesday without a visual, this is MY TJ Wilder...Somebody sign me up for an excursion!

Can we make this is more difficult?

We don't travel often, but we tried to make it as easy as it one can. You know the shoes that slide on, no belts, nothing in our pockets, all the things that slow down security in the airport.  Well seems we had an epic fail at traveling.

And this is how it really went:

~Security Guy didn't like that my passport has been amended, so you have to look at the back page to see my married name (yes, I will just use my licenses on the way back)

~Security Woman was not happy that I misunderstood her (apparently she said "zip my bag" not "unzip my bag", they get so touchy!

~Security Woman Number 2 decided a pat-down was a great idea (I think she just wanted to touch my booty)

~Got swabbed for explosives

So we finally get on the plane and all was well! Got to Vegas, got our bags easy, found the shuttle,easy as pie. We had to wait to check in until 11, so we went and checked Doug in at the conference and then grabbed some lunch. I can't count the number of people who said the food in Vegas was cheap so that people would spend money on gambling. Not.True. Food is NOT cheap! That or my idea of cheap and everyone else's is clearly not the same thing. So we grabbed a pizza, then went to check in. Of course the line is crazy long, so we decide to make sure our room is ready before we get or bags from the "Baggage Storage". Well they give you this awesome little ticket that you just bring back to them and they get your bags. Except some how we LOST ours!!! Great! 

We still had the slips from the airport that matched the tags on our luggage, so I was hoping it would not be a big deal. Of course I was freaking out on the inside!!! Big time!!! If you know me, you know I am a major STRESSER!!!! Fortunately, these people are awesome. The desk lady had one of the guys come out to get me and then we went on a search in their backroom. Luckily, my photographic memory prevailed. I had noticed the guy write "52" on the ticket. Not knowing if it would be helpful or not, I asked him if 52 would mean anything. He was extremely happy that it in fact meant that was the unit it was in and he would not have to search the entire place. I don't know if you have every made it to the storage rooms where they put this luggage, but they aren't small!!! 

So finally on the way to the room, should be easy right? Nope! They have these crazy elevators that go to floors 22-30 only. You have to put your door key in to get past floor 22, we are 25. You would think they would tell you this at check in or put a bigger sign, but nope. So we make it to 22, confused why we stopped, we hit 25 and ended up back at the bottom. So we went up again. This time noticing that you have to put your card key in. Well we stop at 22 again, dang it. We get off, because we don't want to go down again and hit the up button. Elevator arrives and we get on and end up on 29! For the love of Pete people, we just want to go to our room (apparently someone wanted on at 29). Well we make it back to 22. So we get off again! This time we have a game plan. When the elevator comes, we will hold the "door open" button until we figure this out! Luckily no one was on this car! We put the key in, get a green light, then finally make it to floor 25! Thank you sweet baby Jesus! I was really beginning to think that we were not going to make it, I am not even kidding!

Thankfully, everything has gone smoothly since then! I blame it on being up at 4 am two days in a row!

I must be a "man" when it comes to Valentine's Day

Coworker “A” comes in this morning and asked us “Did you get any special surprises for Valentine’s Day?” Coworker “B” responds that she got a dozen roses from her husband and I reply that we don’t observe Valentine’s Day. So Coworker “A” (who has a daughter just a few years younger than me) starts telling us about her surprise….“I was having a bad day yesterday, so when I got home I just went and laid on the couch. I heard my husband come in a while later and go straight up stairs. When he didn’t come down, I went to see what he was doing.” In a very excited voice she continued “he got me one of those 4 1/2 ft teddy bears and had it sitting on our bed!!!! It is so ADORABLE”. Now at this point I am trying really hard to be supportive, but those things are creepy and why does an adult need a giant teddy bear or a small one for that matter! So she keeps on and finally asks me “Don’t you think they are so cute?” Decision time, do I lie or say what I really think about them? Well, Thank You red face and stuttering mouth, you gave me away. I tried to politely; if that’s even possible, say that I think they are a little creepy. Thank God she started laughing, apparently the joke was on me! She had overheard me talking to coworker “B” the other day about these bears and thought it would be funny to use against me! I mean have you seen the Vermont Bear Commercial, it’s ridiculous. And PS Vermont Bears, no woman is going to throw out chocolate like that!

I tell you that story, to say this; what is it about Valentine’s Day that really makes you feel special? Now, before you get offended by anything I am about to say, know this. I support love, I support happiness, and all things that make you feel good about your relationship.

Dougo and I choose not to observe the “hallmark holiday” as we call it. We have been together for 10 years now and will celebrate our 9^th anniversary this coming May. There was a time in my life when Valentine’s Day meant something to me. A time when I wanted the candy, teddy bears and flowers, then I met my husband. Don’t get me wrong, we have our bad days, but we have a love to last a life time. Maybe it’s a product of getting older, maybe it’s that I am not a “girlie” girl, or maybe it’s just that I am too practical, but overpriced flowers and candy that are the expected social norm don’t scream special to me. I just can’t buy into something that society says “if your man doesn’t do this, this and this, he doesn’t love you enough”. I mean that is the message right. And “we” buy in to it. How many times have you heard a woman complain because she didn’t get the thing she wanted or the right flowers, jewelry, etc.? How many times have “we” set the guy up for failure or just been disappointed when maybe we aren’t with our loved one at some romantic restaurant because work gets in the way? I am not a total Scrooge, I did buy Aida Valentine’s for her school mates and as she gets older I will probably do something for her like my mom did for us. I just feel that there is no material possession that my husband could ever buy that would make me feel more love than just hearing “I love you” any day of the year. Buying me flowers doesn’t show me how much you love me, it just says that you watched a tv commercial. The stuffed animals, what is that? I am an adult. I don’t need a stuffed animal. Okay, you got me on the chocolate, I wouldn’t turn chocolate down if my life depended on it (but you better make it Hershey’s)!!! Again, if this is the day that makes you feel like you are on cloud nine with your love then I support you, everyone should feel that love. For me, Valentine’s Day just makes me feel like just another number, I would be just another person that got flowers, no different from any of the rest. Of course we don’t buy each other Christmas presents either, maybe I just have a thing against organized “give your spouse a gift day”! J

In case you have never seen it, here is the "awesome" Vermont Bears Commercial

 

Warm Up Wednesday....Save Me!

We're in between books right now, but didn't want to leave you without any heat on Warm Up Wednesdays!  So the question we're posing is...who would you rather be saved (among other things) by?

BATMAN/Bruce Wayne

OR

SUPERMAN/Clark Kent

I'm partial to Batman myself.  I dig a hot vigilante! Comment and tell us who you want saved by!

AM Adventures

Sometimes you just have to look at your life and laugh a little.

Within two hours this morning, I was standing at a fork in the road; A) I could let everything that had somehow happened in such a small amount of time ruin my day or B) just smile, shake my head a little and think to myself “how did I get so lucky”!

***Tangent: I have heard people complained that some folks have it “all”, that things just come so easily for them. I don’t think this is it at all. I think it’s all about the attitude you take on. If you chose to be positive, you find the good in situations, you enjoy things more which in turn means you don’t mind working for a goal and you don’t miss opportunities because you are wallowing in self-pity. If you take on a negative attitude toward life, you will only see the bad in people/things; never enjoy the moments life gives you and miss out on all the good things that pass you by. It’s simple really! Not to say we don’t all have a bad day here and there, but with a positive attitude they are few and far between. ***

So back to my story! I woke to the sound of the Bovine Hunter’s emergency line going off. This is never a good sign for my morning. Being the responsible adult I occasionally decide to be, I told myself to get out of bed and get dressed, there was no more sleeping to be had. The other half of me, no way more than half, more like 99.9% of me said we should just go back to sleep anyway (might have something to do with staying up till 1 am reading, damn you Jill Shalvis and your Wilder boys). If you know anything about me, then you know I am not a morning person. This proven by the fact that one of my friends in high school used to come make sure I was awake for school every morning (thank you Angel)! So I am up, dressed, hair looking like a hot mess, get the dog outside (before any accidents, success) and now that I have a little time before I have to get the bean up, I decided “hey, why not unload the dishwasher”.

Now, if you have ever been at my house when I clean up after dinner, then you are probably among the many people that have made fun of me and my dishwasher loading. Food on dishes grosses me out! While I am eating it, it is okay, but I can’t handle it sitting there getting all stuck to the plate. I don’t even like the plate to sit in front of me at the table once I am finished, I always slide it away. I also can’t handle the thought that gross leftover food from one plate is now being slung all over the inside of the dishwasher and supposedly comes out clean. So I scrub everything before it goes in to the dishwasher. Yes, at this point, the plate is probably clean enough to eat off of again, but I look at the dishwasher as more of a sterilizer I suppose. So here I am, halfway through unloading it, when I come across a plate that wasn’t scrubbed first. Ah ha, this proves my point that the dishwasher can’t clean the stuck on stuff better than my scrubber. About halfway through my inter-monologue victory dance, I realize that it’s not the lack of the dishwasher’s ability, but the lack of it ever being started. Yep, I have just put half the dirty dishes back in the cabinets. So after putting back everything I can remember back in the dishwasher, thank goodness for having a photographic memory, it’s now time to get the kiddo up.

Now, any day starting with “S”, you can’t get her to sleep in. Today, however, she was just not getting up. (I am sure there will be daily stories about her not getting up when she reaches middle school). We managed, we are up, diaper changed, and dressed for the day. We had just sat down to have some yogurt when Daddy walks back in, just in time to see our precious daughter (who is sitting on my lap facing me) sneeze with a mouth FULL of yogurt All. Over. Me!!! (still wearing the smudges to prove it!) One of the benefits to being a mother of a small child, you can totally wear clothes with stains on it. Even if it’s not from the kiddo people will let you get away with it, because “bless your heart” it must be tough trying to get out the door with the little one. To humor myself in this now sticky situation (have you ever realized how sticky yogurt is when you just took a shower in it?), I tried to get her to lick the glob of yogurt off my wrist, but she didn’t find this as funny as I did. What? I was trying to salvage some, yogurt isn’t cheap!

After we get clean, finish the yogurt, got our coats on, we head out the door. Well I made it about two steps until my heel caught on the step and down I go, with her in my arms. You know how in the movies the character’s life will flash before their eyes? Well it’s amazing the speed at which your brain can actually process and make decisions, when it needs to! Ask me to decide on dinner and it takes 30 minutes to process….realize I am about to crush my poor child and it takes 0.5 seconds. Admittedly, with the image I have in my head, if I were my neighbor I would be totally laughing behind closed doors. Who knows, they probably were! We both are fine, minus a few scratches I have and a bruised ego.  I think we did scare the bajeezes out of Dougo in the meantime; of course I had an audience! Getting myself up and dusting off, I began to wonder how I had become so talented this morning.

I could have let all these things, that made me late for work on top of everything, ruin my day. I could have decided to be a grump now and just complain how horrible the morning had gone, but was it really worth it? Sure we all need a little complaining in our lives, but when you stop and think about it, what’s not hilarious about getting yogurt sneezed on you? So you are a little sticky, it wipes off. And maybe I missed a few dishes going back in the dishwasher; hey at least I scrub them beforehand anyway.  As for the fall, we weren’t hurt, so no harm done. You just can’t take life so seriously, sometimes you just have to laugh.

Did you have any embarrassing moments today?

The Supportive Husband

Fair warning, you may find this to be a “TMI” blog!

Nothing makes a girl happier than a supportive husband! Right?

Had lunch with the Bovine Hunter today, which we try to do as often as possible. I was good and picked the salad over my usual Monday Cheesesteak and Fries. This choice got a “thumbs up” from the hubs and reminded me of a conversation I had had with my boss this morning. So I start telling him about this new “eating plan” that she was reading about (doesn’t that sound so much better than “diet”). Now, I am not a good “eating plan” candidate, but it was interesting so I was telling him about it. Of course, he was totally interested in this as he stared at ESPN on the tv across the restaurant.

First off, he was very kind by sincerely asking why my boss needed an “eating plan”. He is a big fan of my boss and always makes “man” comments that I am to pass along to her. I won’t repeat them since they both might read this, but I always make sure to pass along the message. I think she gets a kick out of it! My boss looks great, but I was telling him how after adjusting her Thyroid medication she just wanted to make sure that she didn’t gain a bunch of unwanted weight. That previously her clothes had been falling off……ahhhh haa….and there sparked an interest! Immediately he was totally in to this conversation about “clothes falling off”! So I kept on with my conversation…..

Me: “I wish I had a hyper Thyroid so my clothes would fall off, mine just fall off because they are busting at the seams”

Bovine Hunter: “well, as long as they are falling off…….”

Well, if I wanted support, I sure had it then. True to most men, love you honey, he was all about supporting anything that resulted in a conversation about clothes coming off. Hey, what can I say, a girl has to be happy with that support! And it provided with a good laugh!

Project Purge, Paint, Peer Pressure...

Last week Les let you all in on her quest to get rid of parts that are getting jiggy with it (Les, you're hot, jiggy or not!).  Well I too am on a quest to purge some excess baggage if you will, not pounds but things!  Our house is full of crap and unfinished projects and I am hoping that a little peer pressure and judging from Internet strangers may get my butt into gear exercising my pack rat demons. 

When we bought our house 4.5 years ago I had lots of plans for how I was going to organize and decorate.  I quickly lost steam partially due to busy life and partly knowing in the back of my head that this isn't our forever house.  We have dreams of building one day, so I guess I've become lazy when it comes to this joint.  Closets have left the realm of storage and entered the phase a dangerously booby trapped depositories of crap we don't want guests to see.  Our basement is a mine field of toys Gavin has outgrown, Rubbermaid tubs, card board boxes and old furniture.  The living room houses furniture I have hated for 3 years and not the new furniture I have picked out multiple times over the past two years and not brought myself to buy.  Rooms need painted, decorated, organized, you name it.  I am officially over my disease of house project putoffedness (WebMD does not recognize this as a disease yet, but it's real people).  My to do list has been penned, and I am on the move!  So it is up to you, our committed readers, to bug me, pressure me and maybe judge a little if I start to slack!  I will keep you posted on my progress and offer some before and after shots! 

The To Do List (The Top 10)
1. Clean out kitchen pantries
2. Paint kitchen walls and touch up trim
3. Clean out air vents
4. Clean out EVERY closet in the house
5. Organize basement
6. Paint half bathroom
7. Buy living room furniture
8. Make "ruler" for upstairs to track the growth of our little people
9. Shampoo all carpets
10. Make stairwell into gallery wall

This month I am focusing on our kitchen/dinning area.  There are two pantry/closets that need cleaned out and organized, trim needs touched up and a fresh coat of paint is needed.  The current paint color is like the color of a light minty tooth paste (previous owners pick).  So today I drug the two men in my life to Lowe's and while they terrorized the other unsuspecting shoppers I perused paint.  I fell for Valspar's Winter In Paris (Displayed below, thanks to myperfectcolor.com)

Now normally at this point, my project putoffedness would flare up, and I'd leave Lowes with just the color sample and I'd hold it up in my kitchen for two weeks, only to not paint and be back to square one in a few weeks.  Today, the hubs forced my hand and I am happy to say the painting has started.  I'm not 100% sure on the color.  I like it, but the old color next to the new is playing with my eyes.  So I am committed to finishing a wall and then deciding.  I'll share pictures when it's done!

Regardless, I'm making decisions, doing projects and getting this house in shape.  It's ours for now, so I need to make it a place I love AND we're inching one step closer with each organizing, fixing up project to a sell worthy house right? 

Next week, I'm hitting those pantries (wow, the typo nightmare that could have happened with that sentence).  If you don't hear from me in two weeks, some overly expired canned good came to life and ate me!  Anybody else tackling big house projects?  Any good paint color nightmares?

P.S. It should be said too that I've put several projects on the hubs to do list.  He's not as motivated, but I hoping to inspire him with my project getting jiggy with itness....oh and I brought it ALLLL full circle! 

Wrecking Ball

I have this saying that 85% of life is confidence and the other 15% is knowing your stuff. I believe in this, whit confidence, you can figure out the rest. I have been a very confident person for a long time now and it always gets me where I need to be in life. Well a trip to the mall hit my confidence like a wrecking ball.

It's not that I haven't been a little over weight for a while. I saw it as a combination of having a baby and just getting older. You can't stay the size you were at 16 forever! I mean, if I were still that small people would think I had an eating disorder. So we get older and we pack on a few pounds. More to love, right? Maybe I could have stood to lose a few pounds, but hey I still felt sexy, so all was good!

I don't do scales, I just don't think they are healthy. What, you pick some arbitrary number that's supposed to represent "perfect" and just stress yourself trying to get that magic number to appear on the digital scale. Then, if and when you actually get there, you can't enjoy any food, because the diet you picked won't let you have anything but some horrible smelling "smoothie". Or lets say you don't make it, then that lovely scale of yours just starts flashing "loser" or "fat ass" at you instead of your goal weight (I swear that's what mine does). Yeah, it's totally healthy. The thing about being healthy is that it's half mental. If you are miserable worrying yourself about some number and pureed veggie drink or counting every calorie that goes in your mouth, well you are just setting yourself up for failure. You will convince yourself that you "can't" do it or that you "failed" yourself because that illusive number won't appear on the scale. Personally, I think my scale just doesn't know that number, programming problem I am sure. Really, who wants that self torture. I say throw out the scale, eat what you consider healthy and do what you need to have the body you want. Some people want bulk, so hit the gym. If you just want to feel good about being "normal" then do what you need to be your idea of normal.

Clearly, not a health freak or workoutaholic here, but here's what I think. If you can feel confident and feel sexy then that's the weight you need to be at. If your size 14 jeans make you feel like you have moves like Jagger, then rock it! Forget all that number BS and be what makes you feel beautiful. I would totally take Jennifer Aniston's body, if it came free with no effort involved, but we can't all be her. What we can all be is happy and feeling sexy and beautiful.

With all that being said, this is not where I am in life. I would love to say that I look great and feel sexy, but I just don't. Lately there is just a little too much shake with my fries! Partly left over from the baby, which didn't seem to bother me the first 17 months (go figure), but more likely it's the chocoholic problem I seem to have developed (thank you third trimester for making me like chocolate and then not taking it away with the baby). And so my exercise adventure begins! I was feeling all Jane Fonda when I started last night, right up until about, let's say sit up number......10 and then I realized exactly why I am "fat" and don't exercise. IT SUCKS!!! But onward I push, because by time I reach 30 (in 2.5 months YIKES) I want to feel my sexy self again. Maybe it will take a little longer, but that's my starting goal.

Guess that means I should stop blogging and do some exercises!

Warm Up With The Wilders, Part 2

We continued our stay at Wilder Adventures this week in “Instant Gratification” by Jill Shalvis, to spend some time with yet another charming Wilder brother, Stone Wilder. While Cam (Stone’s baby brother) and Katie (Cam’s girlfriend) are off touring the world looking for adventures of their own, Stone and TJ are left to run Wilder Adventures located in the majestic Sierras Mountains.

Dr. Emma Sinclair is used to the extreme fast pace of her New York City Emergency Room. As she flips the sign from “closed” to “open” on her father’s Urgent Care, nestled in the quiet town of Wishful, CA, she braces herself for the onslaught of boredom in “Mayberry USA”. After learning of her father’s heart attack, Emma flew 3000 miles across the country to run Doc’s clinic while he recovers. What she got in return was to treat bee stings, stomach flus, the occasional pet cat and payment in the form of casseroles. While managing to get nothing out of her father about his condition, Emma is itching to get back to New York until she get the most interesting case of her career.

Stone sat on the exam table, covered in blood, mud and a whole lot of what looked like road rash. Emma gave the mountain bum a once over, grabbed some supplies and was ready to get to work. There were two things she had not anticipated; a) the large order of “Tall, Dark and Hansom” sitting in front of her was deathly afraid of the needle in her hand, looking at her like she was coming at him with a butcher knife and b) although he was bloody and covered in mud, just the sight of him had her wanting to break every Doctor-Patient rule known to man.

Convinced Emma belongs back in Wishful, where she was born, Stone begins the hardest trek of his life; teaching Emma there is more to life than work. After losing a few bets and sending out accidental distress calls that had TJ (Stone’s old brother) interrupting an “almost” skinny dipping swim in a hidden lake, Emma begins to learn the truth about Stone. This man is much more than the “mountain bum” she had proclaimed him to be. Learning Stone is the glue that holds his family together, a mentor to at risk boys, volunteer for Search & Rescue, and most of all the man solely responsible for saving her father’s life, Emma’s carefully placed wall around her heart begins to crack and fall away. Always guarded by the hurt in her life, Emma also learns some hard truths about both her parents; a mother, God rest her soul, who was not the woman she thought and a father who was there for her more than she ever knew. Flooded with guilt and worry, Emma finds out that her father’s condition is much worse than he had let on and there is no way he can return to work full time. With no other choice but to sale, Emma helps Doc pick out a respective buyer for the clinic so that she can finally return to NY.

If you want to spend some time daydreaming about beautiful mountain bike rides through the mountains and gorgeous men, topped with one of the world’s most frustrating women, I highly recommend “Instant Gratification”. Captivated by her love stories and semi-smut novels, I am a fan of all her series thus far.

The Moon Never Looked So Good...

So I have been working on two upcoming blogs that I promised Les I’d have up yesterday…it didn’t happen and it’s not happening today either!  Something to look forward to right?  I’ll give you the teaser that they involve prom dresses, intertubes, girls just wanting to have fun and monsters in the closet…admit it you’re intrigued? 

Now that I have you attention, tonight’s blog is an update on the great binkie extrication of ’13.  We decided from the beginning that cold turkey wasn’t the way to go.  We made the commitment, that when he woke up in the morning, we would take it and set it on his dresser until bed time.  Weekends, we’d allow it at nap time.  The first two days were rough.  It was a half hour of pitiful whimpering saying “dinkie”, and then he cried all the way to daycare, until feeding some hermit crabs (class pet) distracted him from his dark binkie loss.  Once we got through those first two days he didn’t ask for it much.  When night time came though and we pulled it out, it was like a scene from the movies, a look of pure elation, a slow motion run (if binkies could run), a touch embrace and an unspoken commitment of a forever kind of love…we’ll call it a Binkie to Remember or maybe My Fair Binkie?  Binkie and the Beast? 

He has settled well into this routine and even goes down for a nap at daycare with out it!  We tried no binkie at nap time at home, but after 45 minutes of crocodile tears and toddler sobs that made me certain I was the worst mother EVER…he got the binkie and peacefully napped. 

Perhaps the best part about this challenging time in our house, is that Gavin has become a pleasant little chatter box.  For months I have been worried that he doesn’t say many words, he babbles and we’ve got the mommy, daddy, no, cow, juice, car and choo-choo bases covered, but he wasn’t going much further than that.  As every normal mom does, I’d compare him to every other toddler that was further in the speaking department than him and freak out.  I’ve gone as far as wondering if he’s tongue tied and I’ve interrogated the pediatrician and ladies at daycare until I’m blue in the face and they run the other way when they see me coming!  I am sure I will one day soon miss the silence of my binkie baby, I am loving the sweet words coming out of his mouth!  Today he saw the moon in the sky as we were walking into daycare and said “moon”.  When a cloud moved in to block it, he said “Where go?”…he’s never put two words together…I beamed brighter than that moon! 

So the two week binkie update is this, we’re getting there….slowly but surely!  Someday we’ll proudly proclaim “Binkie Free since ‘13”!  Who wants a T-shirt?

*UPDATE- As I was editing this to post, I casually asked my husband if he had any trouble finding the bink (I stash it under things on his dresser, out of sight out of mind).  He said he didn’t find it, went to bed without it….casually, just like that!  HELLO calm man who just put our binkie addicted kid to bed WITHOUT ONE... think you’d inform his mother about this groundbreaking information???  Either way folks, this is HUGE and could be it.  If you need me I’ll be around my house teetering between moments of a binkie conquest celebration dance (think running man meets Macarana, while having a seizure) and crying my eyes out….watching babies grow sure is bitter sweet! 

-Meg