A unrequited letter

Dear Garlic, Cocktails, Onions, and Chocolate,
My heart hurts from missing you all so much. I can't believe that it has been six long months since I last ate you. I think about you all at every meal and yearn to touch my lips to you once more. I knew when I started breastfeeding that I might have to cut one of you out of my diet because you could make my little fella get a tummy ache. What sort of a cruel world is it when a nursing mom has to say goodbye to that which she desires so deeply? My sweet baby has no idea how much I must love him to choose him over you. It's a sacrifice I make out of love but it is a sacrifice that leaves me full of longing.


Garlic...oh garlic, you are in almost everything that I love. From Pizza to Spaghetti, I miss you so much. My food has lost it's zing without you here to dance on my pallet.

Cocktails, I miss you so much. I need a White Russian and I need one now. I miss having a glass of wine with dinner. I miss drinking Cosmopolitans and making bad decisions. I miss having adult conversations over flickering candles and the clink of a toast.



Onions, why do you have to be so delicious? Why do I have to love eating you so damn much? I miss hearing the sizzle of a plate of fajitas coming my way at On The Border. I miss biting into a crisp onion on my cheeseburger.


Chocolate, I think that I miss you most of all. My mouth is watering just thinking of you. It's so hard to pick a favorite. I long for chocolate cake or a chocolate shake, I would even settle for a Hershey Kiss right now, even though that would just tease me. Oh chocolate...I need you!

If Koen is not done breastfeeding in 6 more months then I am going to cut him off. I can't go on living like this much longer. To you all I send my deepest love!

Until we meet again,
Leigh

Love after baby

The other day I was fluttering around the kitchen with my baby on my hip. I opened the freezer door and all of this stuff came tumbling out. My husband quickly came over and crouched behind me to gather it all up and as he placed various things back in the freezer he said...

"I was going to bite your butt but I didn't want you to drop the baby."

We erupted into laughter. This says so much about where we are in our marriage at the moment. The love is there and the laughter is easy to share yet...it's all about the kids right now. We take it where we can get it. He smacks my butt while I'm cooking dinner. We pass each other in the hallway each evening as I am heading to put Koen to bed and he is off to give Griffin a bath. We smile lovingly at one another as our shoulders brush in passing. "I'll meet you on the couch at 9" one of us will say to the other. Then, after Koen is sound asleep and Griffin is squeaky clean from his bath, the three of us pile up and read stories together before bedtime. As we read Curious George for the 1000th time and Griffin sits snugly between us, we'll play footsie and give each other flirty grins.

By the time 9 o'clock rolls around, I am a zombie and he is too. We veg out on the couch watching this and that. By 9:30 I am almost asleep. By 9:45 I am brushing my teeth. At 10:00 pm I am in bed. So much for a hot steamy night of passion. These days, the only thing I kiss is my pillow as I lay down to go to sleep.

Me and my man are like two ships passing in the night.

Slim makes us proud

I knew a boy in high school name Bryan but everyone called him Slim. We were really great friends...the kind that you talk to on the phone at all hours of the night. We had the kind of friendship where you decide to stay up all night and take turns sleeping for 15 minute intervals to see if you will go insane from sleep deprivation. We would smoke clove cigarettes and listen to Leonard Cohen. We would skip out of class and roam the halls of our school, Bryan, who was quite the performer, would pretend to trip in front of every single classroom that had an open door. It was hilarious to watch him stumble and fall over and over with a huge thud down the hall only to be followed by an uprising of giggles that escaped from each classroom door. Yeah...I loved Bryan.

Well, I am so proud of him because he is seeing some huge success with a new book he has written. He was even on Good Morning America this morning looking all grown up.

Here is a quick synopsis of the book...

The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind is the story of William Kamkwamba, a young man from Malawi, who, at fourteen years old, battled through extreme poverty and hunger to build a series of windmills from scratch that could generate electricity – a luxury enjoyed by only 2 percent in Malawi. In 2002, one of the worst famines in Malawi’s history killed thousands of people and forced the Kamkwamba family to the brink of starvation. It also forced William to drop out of school since his father, a maize and tobacco farmer, could no longer afford his school fees. But despite this setback, William was determined to get his education. He began visiting a local library that had just opened in his old primary school funded by the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID), where he discovered a tattered British science book. With only a rudimentary grasp of English, he taught himself basic physics – mainly by studying photos and diagrams. Another book featured windmills on the cover and inspired him to try and build his own. As his country reeled from hunger, William searched the scrap yards and found old tractor fans, shock absorbers, plastic pipe, and bicycle parts. People teased him and called him crazy, but he continued searching and tinkering and eventually build a crude machine that produced twelve volts and powered four lights. A second machine irrigated a family garden. News of his magetsi a mphepo – electric wind – spread beyond Malawi and William soon found himself traveling the world telling his remarkable story.

Okay...I admit that I just copied and pasted that from his website but why bother to think when he has already done it for me. The book was named one of Amazon's top picks of September. Go buy it and read and then buy one for your friends. He is an amazing writer.

I haven't spoken with my Slim in a while. We grew up, got married to our respective spouses, and somehow lost each other in the shuffle. Yet, there has always been a place in my heart for good ol' Slim. I always knew that he would make it big!

God hit me over the head with my remote control.

I am a spiritual person but I don't like to talk about it. I'm one of those "walk the walk, don't talk the talk" kind of girls. Let's just say that I ended up in one too many theological debates in College. Now, my spirituality is my business. Yet, I just have to share with you an experience I had the other day.

Quick disclaimer: If your opinion is different from mine that is between you and the "Big guy" so please, don't drag me into it. M'kay? Love ya! Okay, now that that's out of the way, let's get down to business shall we?

As I have told you numerous times, I have gotten just a little freaky over the flu this season (Exhibit A-here and Exhibit B-here and Exhibit C-here). Well, the other day Griffin's teacher (whom we love dearly) was absent from school. When she returned the next day she announced that her children were at home with 104 temperatures. She thought that they had the flu and strep throat. GREAT! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE? I thought to myself as she gave Griffin a hello hug. All I could see were germs swarming around them. I smile through my teeth and ran out to the car to slather my hands in Purell. My brain started kicking into overdrive and I just knew that we were all about to catch the Flu.

When I got home I went into a full blown panic about it. I was just so weary from worry, I didn't think that I could carry around this burden of worry anymore. It's really not like me. I remembered my mom had told me that sometimes she'll put a sermon on the television and just let it run in the background while she does stuff around the house. She said the inevitably, she will hear something that enlightens her. I was so desperate for relief that I turned on the TV and started to fold laundry while I watched it.

I had stumbled upon Kenneth Copeland Ministries, which is SO not my speed. He was snarling "and the loward sayeth" type messages and I grabbed the remote control to turn it. Something in my heart told me to leave it on that channel. "Don't be so judgemental" I said aloud to myself and set down the remote.

He was preaching a non-offensive sermon about how we don't have to let our past rule the present. You know the sermon, claiming victory in Jesus over our past mistakes, that kind of stuff. I kind of half listened as I folded clothes. Then, he said "and let me tell you something about fear and the flu." My eyes popped open and I plopped down on the couch with a pile of folded towels in my hand. He was about to speak to me directly. "When you give in to your fear of illness, you are accepting it into your life, as if to invite the flu into your home." I couldn't believe it, it was if God had just walked in and hit me over the head with the remote control. Kenneth Copeland had nailed it.

I can't give in to my fear anymore. He spoke on and on about Psalm 21 and every word was meant for my heart to take in. I was delivered. Right there, with a huge pile of unfolded laundry all around me, my fearful heart released the worry. Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition!

Now, when a worry pops up about the flu I just say to myself..."I am not accepting that into my life." Amazing, something so simple as redirecting my thoughts has set me free. That sermon was meant for me to see.

A busy afternoon.

Sir Underpants is putting on a show
for the squire of the house.

The battle rages on.

I am a nightmare in the kitchen. I am totally threatened by cooking, it's ridiculous. Don't get me wrong, I can throw together a pretty decent weeknight meal. Let's just say that I'm not a baker by nature. Well, yesterday I put on my brave apron and attempted to make cupcakes with Griffin. We were bored and the TV had been on so long that I just couldn't take Children's programming any longer.

The sad part is that I made these cupcakes out of a box and still managed to have a war with them. Why do I struggle with cooking? I got to the bottom of it in what I will call The Cupcake Battle of 2009.

Griffin and I had a great time tossing in a cup of water over the powdered mix and then slinging in some melted butter and eggs. We laughed while we used the mixer on medium and it swirled into a lovely batter. Then Griffin lost interest and abandoned me to watch Spongebob-traitor!

I then indulged and licked the batter off of the spoon. It was delightful...I adore the taste of cake batter. Growing up, my father told me that if I ate too much of it I would get worms. I had my hand smacked away from numerous mixing bowls as a young girl. So, you can imagine how liberated I felt to be an adult in my own kitchen all alone with a bowl full of cake batter. I dipped the spoon in over and over between plopping some into the cupcake wrappers to be baked. I was in heaven.

Well, I was so engrossed in my secret indulgence that I totally didn't read the directions that said to spoon in 2/3 worth of batter into each wrapper. I filled each one to the rim and stuck it in the oven before I read the directions. What should have been 24 cupcakes turned into 12 and I think that I ate about 4 cupcakes worth in batter. So, I made HUGE cupcakes. No biggie.

Then, I went to get the icing only to discover that we didn't have any. Great. I ended up using the recipe on the side of the confectioners sugar box but realized that I only had soy milk instead of milk. So, my frosting came out more like a glaze.

Griffin came to sample my cupcakes and loved them. Throughout the day as I floated around the house doing chores, I would find discarded cupcake wrappers on the floor. He ate 5 of them over the course of the afternoon. This must be what it feels like to cook something that your family enjoys.


I learned:
*Check to make sure that you have all of the ingredients BEFORE you start cooking.
*Read the directions as you go instead of after it is already in the oven.
*Don't eat half of your batter as you go.

I am well on my way to culinary genius.

Ahoy swabbie...

Me loves me second mate!

and the award goes to...

I have been honored with many awards lately and that means one thing, I'm gettin' dressed up. I'm feeling kinda kooky tonight so, I think that I'm going to borrow Bjork's dress for this evening's ceremony. Don't I look pretty?

So...the ever so lovely JennyMac over at Let's Have a Cocktail took a moment to give 2 awards to little ol' me. Thank you Ms. Mac, you are too kind. I recieved the I think you are an awesome girl award and I am passing this very pretty badge to the amazing ladies at these Blogs. You know who you are!

Speaking From the Crib
Hormones, Headaches, and Hot Flashes
Theta Mom
Life(ish)

It Ain't Easy Being Cheesy

I also recieved the Super Comments award which I am giving to the ladies that stop by almost everyday and give me a piece of their mind. I love these ladies with all my Blogging heart! As they say in the Golden Girl's theme song-"Thank you for being a friend."

Speaking from the Crib

Hormones, Headaches, and Hot Flashes
It ain't easy being cheesy

Last but not least Speaking from the Crib passed these two beauties my way. The Splash Award is given to alluring, amusing, bewitching, impressive and inspiring blogs. She also gave me One Lovely Blog Award. What can I say? The girl has loyalty! I pass these lovely honors over to these talented women who keep me entertained.

Anti-supermom

Zipbag of Bones
Life(ish)
2 Toddlers and Me

So there ya have it. I'm so glad that Bjork is such a great friend and was willing to lend me her famous Swan dress. I just know that I'm going to end up on the best dressed list in People magazine tomorrow!

This makes me smile!

Sometimes when things get hard we all just need to go into the forest and punch dance out the angst!

Mean Mommy

I am being wild and crazy and posting two posts in one day. I am going crazy! I am yet again sleep deprived. Just after getting over Mastitis, my whole brood of boys have come down with a nasty cold and now I've caught it too. My sweet adorable 5 month old has been up every hour crying pathetically the last two nights. I am exhausted. When I get tired...I get mean.

For example, Griffin was pretending to be a knight before school and was running all over the house swinging his plastic sword to and fro and screaming "CHARGE!" at the top of his lungs while he ran and attacked the couch. I am sitting on said couch nursing a very snotty Koen between his sweet whimpers when Griffin charges us with the sword. He came barreling at us and was swinging it dangerously close to me and the baby. "Stop swinging that near us!" I said in a very serious mommy voice. He then continued to swing it about 1/4 inch away from Koen's head and laughing a very maniacal laugh.

Something snapped deep within me. I grabbed the sword and threw it across the room and in a very stern voice shamed Griffin for disobeying me. He started to cry and I had little sympathy for him.

Later, as I walked him to the playground before school, I started to feel guilty for my little outburst and tried to hold Griffin's hand to make up with him. He then shamed me in front of three moms. He said...

"No ma'am, I am so frustrated at you! I'm done! I've had it!" and stomped off. Hmmm...where did he learn to say stuff like that? I wonder.

I am a Bowerbird Blogger

I am a hungry writer that is starving for readers. My days are spent wavering between neglect of personal hygiene, a constant upkeep of my home, and the small task of raising two boys. Some place within that shuffle lives this space. I come here and spill out my thoughts and then pray that they don't just float around in cyberspace. I need you.

Yes you, lovely reader, who stops by and checks in with my simple little life. I need to flex my creative muscle for you. I need to strut my words like a Bowerbird builds a bower to attract females. They spend 9-10 months of the year constantly working on, improving, and rearranging their creations and in the end, they have a beautiful nest scattered with all sorts of treasures. From feathers to shells, these bowers are magnificent.

So, I gather my words and build my nest for you. An almost primal need takes over me as I write each day. What is this drive pushing me to put my life out there for strangers to read? Where does this ravenous spirit in search of readers come from?

I am a Bowerbird Blogger with a sensation bower just waiting for you to flutter by and read my thoughts. No giveaways...no sponsors...just a tower of simple words.

about very small beetle

(My Mom, me, and Griffin at a festival in North Georgia circa 2005)

Once upon a time, I had a tiny business called very small beetle. My mother and I teamed up and made one of a kind handbags. The entire project came about because I had an identity crisis after I gave birth to my first son. I had gone from working as a full time hair stylist in a swanky Atlanta Salon to a stay at home mom in the small college town of Athens, Ga. I had lost touch with myself and my mom decided that I would find my identity in sewing.

It worked. We collected wonderful fabrics, vintage buttons, and estate jewelry for each one of a kind purse. It was so fun to design each bag and learn the art of sewing as I sewed each stitch. Eventually, we had made so many purses that we decided to sell them at local festivals and craft shows.(some of our purses)

It bloomed into a budding business. We made hundreds of purses. My mom invested in a top of the line Bernina sewing machine. We had a blast.

Then, the sewing machine started to rattle a bit. Griffin started crawling and the threat of him swallowing a straight pin loomed at each sewing session. It became harder to sew with a little fella tugging at my leg. I found a mom's group and settled into some much needed friendships. Somewhere along the way, the bags got packed up and the fabric was put away in storage. Our small little hobby was hung up and the bags sat in suitcases for years.

Well, I was recently rummaging through storage and stumbled upon a bunch of our beautiful fabrics. I found tapestries, silks, brocades, and tons of vintage buttons. It brought back so many great memories. Then, I found a small trunk with some of our purses in them. It was fun to remember each bag and the love that had been put into making it.

I decided to unearth our purses and open an Etsy shop. My mom is sending the sewing machine off to be repaired and were blowing the dust off of our sewing tools. I miss sewing.

So, as I discover trunks of handbags in our storage unit (which is overflowing with "stuff") I will list them at our Etsy shop. Then, when we get the sewing machine back, I'm going to dive back in and sew again. My spirit needs it and the world needs to carry our lovely purses.

Has anyone seen this man?

This photo was taken on a balmy night in Savannah, Georgia. It is a great memory from what I can remember. We had been drinking Mint Julep's all night and took a sloshy stroll by the river. Roger was so happy and drunk as we stumbled and laughed, stealing kisses as the evening lights reflected off of the water.

Fast forward to a rainy September day 5 years later. This same man is very cranky and cumbersome. He accidentally deleted an entire system he was building on his laptop and it has turned our Saturday sour. I've tried everything to cheer him up. I made us all load up in the car to get ice cream at Sonic. I've never seen someone grimace while eating an ice cream cone like he was earlier. I tried making fun of him and pretending to drop kick him as I walked by him and Griffin as they played a game on the floor. I've never seen someone look so sad while playing Pop n Hop. I climbed up in his lap and shook him and said "Hey,remeber what it's like to have fun?" All I got was a shrug. Griffin said "He still looks like that mom!" pointing to Roger's frown.

I've got to pull out the big guns. After the kids are in bed and he has slumped his sad bones onto our big red couch, I am going to put on the song "She's a maniac" and perform a kick ass Jazzersize routine in his honor. That always cheers him up. I might even put on some leg warmers to add to the mood. If that doesn't work, then I'll have to pull out the heavy ammo and give him a big ol' juicy kiss.

If that doesn't work then I am calling the Police and filing a missing person's report.

Forever grateful

If I had the gumption and a higher pain threshold I would be walking into a tattoo parlor right now. I would slap this lovely image on the counter and demand that they tat the word "MOM" on my upper right arm, sailor style. My mom deserves some form of tribute for what she has done for me this week.

From the moment I stepped into her living room last Saturday with the chills and a fever, she has been there for me. You see, Mastitis can make you feel like you are about to die. I don't remember the last time I felt so sick. Well, God bless my mommy because she has been a HUGE help. She dropped everything and stayed with us all week. She's cooked dinner, loaded the dishwasher, done load after load of laundry, slept on a really uncomfortable pull out couch, and taken over Koen duty at 4 am. She has done all of this with a smile and all that she asked from me was that I rested and recovered.

She teaches me on a daily basis how to be a good mom by being a good mom to me. Still, at the ripe age of 34, she fosters me with such love and devotion. I learn unconditional love from being loved by her. I look at my boys and hope that they feel the same devotion coming from me to them.

We are blessed to live 5 minutes away from my parents. I love it that she comes with me to pick Griffin up from school on a regular basis. I love it that she goes grocery shopping with us so that I don't have to wrangle two kids while I shop. I love it that she goes on Pediatrician appointments with me.

I am spoiled rotten and it's all because she loves me. What more could a daughter ask for? Maybe we should get imaginary matching Mother/Daughter tattoos.

I was a young Philospher.

The first epiphany I ever had happened in a dark movie theatre in the year 1984. I was watching the movie The NeverEnding Story. It was the scene where Bastian met the Rockbiter and he told him about "The Nothing".

Here is the scene...

Rockbiter: Near my home there used to be a beautiful lake, but
then it was gone.
Man: Did the lake dry up?
Rockbiter: No, it just wasn't there anymore.
Nothing was there anymore. Not even a dried up lake.
Man: A hole?
Rockbiter: No, a hole would be something. No, it was nothing.

My little eyes grew wide and my mouth fell open as that statement sank in. My 10 year old mind raced. A hole would be something but this is nothing and if it's nothing then it has to be something, right? Wow, and so what is that rock trying to tell me? I started to grasp symbolism.

This was probably my first abstract thought up to that point in my life. It blew my sweet little mind.

This would not be the last time that a children's Movie would cause a paradigm shift in my thinking. Another Movie that jolted my entire philosophy on life was Kung Fu Panda. I was sitting there unsuspectingly laughing at Jack Black's awesome delivery when BAM...they hit me with this quote.

"Yesterday is history,
tomorrow is a mystery,
but today is a gift.
That is why it is called the present"
-Oogway from Kung Fu Panda

Once again, with darkness and the smell of popcorn all around me, I had an existential breakthrough. I have an issue with worrying about the future. So much so, that I can totally miss what is right in front of me...the present. That animated turtle taught me to live for the moment. I meditate on this quote daily.

Finally, Griffin and I watched Meet the Robinsons the other day. It was cute and easy to swallow with a pretty simple message about making the right choices in life. The movie was over and I was cleaning up spilled popcorn off the couch when BAM...they slapped this amazing quote at the end of the movie.

"Around here, however, we don’t look backwards for very long. We keep moving forward, opening up new doors and doing new things… and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths.” - Walt Disney

I was so bewitched by this quote that my eyes welled up with tears. I just sat there in a dreamy daze and starting eating the popcorn off the couch. What an amazing mind Walt Disney had. It's thoughts like this that make me want to bust out of my skin and do something amazing with my life.

Like...
write this novel that is stuck in my head
or buy a fancy camera and take a photography class
or reorganize my kitchen cabinets.

It's so humbling when a movie made for a kid can grab me like that. Maybe it's because deep inside I'm still that wide eyed little girl. Maybe it's because my life needs to be shaken up with new thoughts now and again. Sometimes the most complex theories are delivered in simple little packages.

What Movie has inspired you?

Reason # one hundred billion why I love my best friend

Cause she's real smart!

A love letter

Dear Chandelier than hangs in the Nursery,
You have no idea how much joy you bring into my world. When I saw you at Target it was love at first sight. I was so thrilled when Roger snatched you up and made you all mine for Mother's day two years ago. You graced my home office with class. I'm so happy that when we decided to convert the office to Koen's nursery, that we left you hanging there, even though I was expecting a boy and you are clearly a Lady's chandelier.

You remind me what it feels like to be a woman in the midst of all the boyness in my life. You are a beacon of femininity when I stand beneath your glow and change Koen's diapers. I am so happy to have you in my life.

I think that I love you most in the darkness of the night, when your light is completely off. The Monkey nightlight that guides my way to Koen's crib throws the most luminescent shaft of light onto your crystals. The shadows and the reflections dance as I cradle Koen in my arms and try my hardest not to make eye contact with him at 4 am. The moment my eyes meet his, he turns into a happy wiggling puppy in my arms and it takes hours to settle him back down.

You are the one, my love, that I turn my gaze to. You are the one that mystifies my tired vision in the dim dreamy light.

When I stand beneath you I see stars

or fairies dancing

or delicate fireflies shining at night.

Thank you for giving a tired mommy something beautiful to focus on late at night!

I love you with all my heart,
Leigh

Spoiled co-sleeper

Let me tell you something about my spoiled kid. His little fanny has not slept an entire night in his own bed since I accidentally fell asleep while nursing him in bed at 8 months old. He went on a crib strike. Being the exhausted push over that I am, he secured his place in mommy and daddy's bed forever.

Well, last night was the first night that he slept in his own bed until 7 am. HOLY CRAP!!!! This is a big deal over at our house.

So, we threw him a "You did it!" party after dinner. Anything to encourage our little co-sleeper to stay put in his own bed.

There were cupcakes
and streamers
and party hats
and a home made crown
for the man of the hour.
We sang the song
"For He's a Jolly Good Fellow"
We gave him Hot Wheels
as a gift
and told him how grown up he was.

Koen even joined in the celebration.

Griffin beamed with pride and ate 3 cupcakes.
It was a big party!

Why can't I be more like Ms. Deschanel?

I love Zooey! Look at how cute she is! I bet that if she had two kids and one of them was teething and kept her up all night for a week solid that she wouldn't end up at Urgent Care with the shakes.

Well, it turns out that I am not a wimp that is going crazy from sleep deprivation. It turns out that I have a nasty case of Mastitis. To all of you non-mommy ladies out there that means that my boob is clogged up with milk and that it's causing an infection. The symptoms are just like the Flu (which would explain my episode on Saturday). I'm not going to tell my husband that it wasn't sleep deprivation though because he has stepped up in a BIG way to help since I've come down with this. So, I am off to the midwives to get an antibiotic and with it will come sanity.

I feel better already knowing what is wrong with me. So good, in fact, that I have been humming this little tune in my head all morning. I think that if Zooey got Mastitis that she would probably feel crazy too.

How my weekend was ruined: An Outline

I. Roger meets an idiot at work
1. The idiot sneezes and coughs on Roger all morning.
2. The idiot tells Roger that he thinks that he has a sinus infection.
3. The idiot rubs his grubby hands all over the same computer keyboard as Roger.
4. The idiot tells Roger that his girlfriend has the Swine Flu
a. We decide that me and the boys should stay at my parent's house for the weekend.
*Don't judge or label me as a paranoid mommy please. We've been dealing with colds,
Tummy Bugs, and teething for 6 weeks. The last thing I want to bring into my home
is the flu of any kind.


II. I make big plans
1. I will go the the flea market with my Dad on Saturday morning while my mom watches
the boys.
2. I will go out to dinner with my girlfriends and drink a Margarita and eat queso and have
a much needed break.

III. Koen decides to have alert time again
1. We are up from 1 am to 4 am
2. I might have cried a few times.

IV. I get sick
1.Wake up and cancel trip to flea market so I can get some sleep.
2. Lay down for 3 hours unable to sleep.
3. I start crying.
4. I get the chills
5. Then I start sweating.
6. Then I get the chills again.
7. My body aches.
8. I get a fever
9. Holy crap, I think that I might have the flu.
10. Call Pediatrician and they send me to Urgent Care to get a flu test.
11. I am freaking out because I don't want to my baby to get the Flu.

V. My worst nightmare actualized
1. Arrive at Urgent care to find the waiting room full.
2. A woman walks out of Doctors Office into the waiting room crying hysterically because
something is wrong with her baby. Her husband is holding her and she's yelling "Why, no?"
between sobs.
3. A teenage girl sitting across from me is wearing a surgical mask and looks like she is about
to die.
4. I send my Dad to get me McDonald's because I haven't eaten all day. Then, I get too
paranoid of germs to eat it. I am starving. I have to pee but refuse to go cause of germ
infested bathroom.

VI. I have a breakdown all over a nurse
1. They call me in.
2. I start to tell the nurse all about the fact that I haven't slept more than a 3 hour stretch
in weeks thanks to my baby.
3. I start crying
4. I start hallucinating little colorful dots floating around the room.
5. I get light headed.
6. They give me the Flu Test.

VII. I found out what's wrong with me.
1. The flu test comes back negative.
2. I have sleep deprivation and extreme fatigue
3. They give me directions to leave the children with a loved one, take Tylenol PM, sleep
as much as I can. I can bring the children home when my fever is gone.
4. I almost faint at the receptionist's desk.

VIII. Sanity slowly seeps back in.
1. I go home, Roger spoon feeds me Chicken Noodle Soup.
2. I take Tylenol PM and sleep 4 hours.
3. I wake up to pump breast milk for Koen and Roger and my dad take turns transporting
the milk to Koen.
4. Wake up this morning and my fever is gone.
5. This is the first time I've been out of bed.

IX. I am now going back to bed.

A simple little story

First up, let's take a moment together to repsectfully remember the sad events of September 11, 2001.

I could ramble on and on about that horrible day. I spent a long time being devastated by the events that unfolded. A little part of me will never be the same and I was safe in Georgia on that day. I feel deeply for the people directly affected. I'd much rather talk about something that makes me happy though. We don't want the terrorists to win by stealing every Blog post out there today.

Instead I'll tell you a simple little story. Last night I was sitting in my office milling around on my computer. Koen had fallen asleep early and Roger had taken Griffin outside for an "evening hike". We live on 2 acres and the two of them love to meander through the property digging up rocks and throwing them at trees or collecting rocks and lining them up on our porch railing. Griffin has quite a collection.

I love the "evening hike" because after a long day with both of the kids I get a moment to myself. Well, while I was catching up on reading some of my favorite Blogs, Griffin came barreling into the room. He was excited about something and grabbed my hand. "Mom, you gotta come see this!" he exclaimed as he led me to the front porch. He enchanted me as we walked, making eye contact with smiling eyes and skipping as we headed outside. I couldn't wait to see what he was going to show me.

He pulled me out to the porch and presented this to me...

"Look Mom, it's the biggest rock in the whole wide world!"

Might heart swelled with pride. The fact that he still gets excited about crap like this is awesome. He was stoked and it made me stoked. We hopped around the porch and marveled at his simple discovery. His little spirit is so eager to celebrate life and it's contagious. I honeslty was excited about that huge rock.

Let's face it, we all think that our children are special and gifted but mine REALLY is.

Like the other day he said this to us when we would not let him play video games. You have to say it in your mind with the saddest voice known to man. "You are turning my Summer into a Monday and taking away all of my fun!" When did he learn to weave such a fantastic metaphor?

I just love those moments when my child dazzles me with his fresh perspectives. I hope that he always scouts me out to share the little things that he finds impressive. I hope that he never outgrows accusing me of taking away his fun in such a creative way. I hope that he can hold onto his sweet little thought process for as long as he possibly can because he ignites the child in me.

Operation: Pin Up Girl

I am the queen of putting make up on in the car. Most days at about 8:20 am you can find find me putting on lipstick as we sit at a stop light on the way to taking Griffin to school. You might see me brushing mascara on at a stop sign as I make my way to the grocery store. I try to put my best face forward because my grandma raised me right when she taught me to never leave the house without at least a little lipstick and mascara on your tired face.

Well, something's rotten in Denmark because the other morning as I drove Griffin to school I pulled up to the stop light, looked in the mirror poised to put on my lipstick, and said aloud "why bother?"

Now, it's been 6 days since I put on lipstick.

I have officially let myself go. I vowed that I would never ever be one of those moms who just quits making an effort to like nice. Somehow, I have ended up at the bottom of my own list. So, it's time to make a new vow to myself. I don't want to look like a haggard old mama, not this girl. No, I want to look like a pin up girl. For that to happen I've got to start thinking and acting like a sex pot. So...I am making a few promises to myself.

I vow to always put on lipstick
BEFORE I walk out the door.
My mom always says
"Feeling a little down?
Put on a little lipstick and you'll feel better!"
She's so right.

I vow to shower more often.
I suppose that this is step one to grooming, huh?
Cat baths are fine but not when you
do it 5 days in a row.
No one likes a stinky lady.
Spritzing Coco Chanel Perfume on your armpits
before you walk out the door
does not count as bathing!

I vow to shave my legs more than once a month.
No self respecting Pin Up Girl has hairy legs.
This goes for all hair upkeep.
I must get my eyebrows waxed, wax my lip,
and (gasp) pluck my chin hairs that are popping out,
they've gotta go too.

I vow to exercise more.
Walking from the couch to the refrigerator
to get another Diet Dr. Pepper
does not count as physical activity.
It's time to bust out my
Denise Austin workout DVD and
get off my lazy ass.
Pin Up Girls do not have huge asses.

I vow to eat better and actually step on the scale.
Admitting there is a problem is the first step.
Then second step will be onto
that cruel scale to access the damage.
A good Pin Up Girl does
not eat 2 chocolate covered doughnuts
while she walks around Walmart.

I vow to spend more time on myself.
The last book I read was
What to Expect in the First Year.
I need to feed my brain.
There is nothing sexier than
a smart girl.

Okay, it's official. Vows have been spoken here today.

I am well on my way to achieving ultimate sexiness.

More Blog Love

I'm gushing and blushing because I was just honored with ANOTHER award. Who knew that I would get the same award twice? This must mean that I give excellent Blog.

Thanks to fabulous lady over at Life(ish) for passing the You Give Good Blog award my way. We just found each other but it's never too late to find a new BFF (were gonna be just like Paris and Nicole, except we won't fight or get a reality show, although we probably should). Anyway, her Blog is wonderful and funny so I'm honored that she thought of little ol' me.

So, now I will pass the award on (again).

Oh Jenny Mac...you are so sophisticated and classy. I know that you created this award but I don't see it in the rules anywhere that I can't send your award back to you. So this one is going to Let's Have a Cocktail because you were clever enough to invent this honor and you deserve it.

Next, Sara Spelled Without an H is getting the award as well. She is witty and spry and loves Target and so do I. I didn't mean for that to rhyme.

Finally, Lemonade Making Mama because she is sassy and smart. I just found her Blog today but that doesn't matter. If something is good you just know it off the bat. She gives good blog for sure.

So, there ya have it. The award has boomeranged to me twice and now it's souring it's way around the Blogsphere back to Jenny and then swinging around to some new ladies.

I'm really exhausted. Am I making any sense?

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Oh sorry, I feel asleep for a second there.

Nightime troubles

This is the tale of a young baby's quest
to push his mother to the edge of sanity
between the hours of Midnight and 6 am.

I went to bed last night at 7:15 pm. Yeah, you read that right, seven freakin' fifteen. I haven't gone to bed that early since I was in the third grade. Why was I in bed at such an early hour? Because Mr. Innocent up there kept me up ALL NIGHT on Monday night. Literally, my eyes finally closed at 5 am and I slept for all of two hours. Two freakin' hours people! So last night I hit the hay early to get a leg up on some sleep. Thank God because my little sugar booger is on a quest to slowly drive me insane with sleep deprivation. In his defense...he is cutting 3 teeth as we speak. Needless to say, he's just not too happy these days.

I don't do well when I don't get enough rest. I cry like a baby and get tummy aches and yell at my older son for stupid stuff like, uh, breathing. I'm at my worst at 4 am. Let me tell you about my night.

7:15-I put on my Lavender eye pillow. stretch out into bed, and fall peacefully asleep.

11:00 pm-whew...I just got almost 4 hours of sleep in a row. Yay me! Grab baby, nurse baby, change baby's diaper, place him lovingly back in the crib. Sigh a huge sigh that he went back down easy. Go back to sleep.

1:00 am- Wake up to crying baby. Swoop him up, give him pacifier, walk around room going "ssshhhh" in his ear lovingly while I give him a little jiggle. He falls back asleep and goes in crib pretty easy. Yay me!

3:30 am-Why is my baby awake again? Nurse him, change diaper, curse the heavens because his eyes are wide open and he is singing "la la la goo ga." If he is going to be awake and happy he can do it in the crib. Place baby back in crib awake. Step away slowly and listen to his sweet song for half an hour.

4:00 am-Koen is screaming in his crib. So much for a happy baby. Swaddle, give Tylenol, give Mylecon (One of these medicines has got to cure whatever is ailing him right?), rock him to what looks like a peaceful slumber.

4:10 am-slowly put baby back in crib, his eyes pop open right away, he is crying.

4:30 am-As I rock in him the glider I start to cry too. This scares him and he cries louder, which makes me cry louder. We both sob and hold onto each other.

5:00 am- I begin to doubt my own parenting skills. I ask myself questions like...why can't I be one of those moms that can let the baby cry it out? Was it a mistake to start rocking him to sleep when he had that cold and needed some extra love? Have I ruined my baby? Is this my fate for the rest of his babyhood? These thoughts go in a loop as I try every possible method to sooth my now hysterical baby.

6:00 am- He is finally asleep in the crib and seems peaceful. I crawl back into bed and try my hardest to fall back asleep but I am fuming at the fact that I was just up three and a half hours with my baby. I drift off to sleep only to be awakened by the alarm at 7 am. Time for our lovely day to start.

By about 3 pm I look like this...

It's award season again

Where's the red carpet? I need one because The Fabulous Bitch (who is that girl that has a biting wit that we all need around to keep our head out of the clouds but don't let the name fool you, beneath all that toughness there is a sweet vulnerability to her writing-whew!) just bestowed yet another award upon me. This must be how Meryl Streep felt when she received her second Academy Award. Oh yeah, I am the Meryl Streep of the Blogging world. So...imagine me in a fabulous gown and dripping with diamonds as I graciously deliver my acceptance speech.

I'd like to thank the Fabulous Bitch for thinking that my Blog is swanky. This little Blog is a HUGE creative outlet for me and for someone to think that it oozes swank is a huge compliment. Thanks to all of my adoring fans and friends who stop by just to find out things like what I cooked for dinner last night and crap like that. Oh Blog world...where would I be without you?

Okay...onto business. Let's pass this award on, shall we?

I'd like to give this award to the posse over at Lazy Robots. I went to college with this crew and they are tres chic. Something like 6 of these kids moved on up to Brooklyn together. This Blog is all about them running around NY and being fabulous. You can feel the energy as they bounce around clubs and art openings. It's fun to keep up with what's going on in the world of people who have chosen not to spawn. I'm pretty sure that they don't rock Blog awards on their Bligitty Blog but I'm gonna throw one at em' anyway.

Up next...The Polished Pickle. I love this chick and I love her because she loves her kids and her hubby and her life. She's also an awesome photographer. She is a little ray of light.

Finally...Erin Bennett Jenkins is gettin' this here award. She is my bestest friend in the whole wide world and this is her photography Blog. She's soooo talented and absract and smart and beautiful and and and I LOVE HER! If one of us was a man we would be hitched and making sweet love nonstop. We're both chicks though so, we settle for being best friends.

Okay...cue the band to play that obnoxious music they play when a starlet's speech is going on and on.

My 15 seconds are up. I just wish that the flippin paparazzi would leave me alone.

This makes me happy.

Three Little Birds - Video for Kids by Noggin

Because when I hear Bob Marley say that
"Every little thing is gonna be all right"
I believe him.

Butterflies in my tummy...

Mama is puttin' on her fancy shoes.

A walk down Paranoia Lane.

In light of my recent defeat over my fears I have decided
to take a moment to remember the myriad of irrational fears
I have overcome in my life.
It'll be like therapy.
So strap on your straight jacket
and take a walk with me down Paranoia Lane.

1. Clowns
I have more of an annoyance with Clowns than I do a fear of them. My dad was a clown (he performed at birthday parties and was Ronald Mcdonald for a time) and he was always inviting his clown friends over to brush up on their "clowning skills". They were often obnoxious men with really bad jokes. Like, they would shake my hand but hold their hand still and jump up and down while laughing manically. I hated it when the clowns came over. Eventually I would take shelter in my room when any of the clowns arrived.

2. Fear that I was the only real human on earth.
This fear came about when I snook into the living room after bedtime to discover that my parents were watching the film Invasion Of The Body Snatchers. I was 4 at the time and obviously too young to watch a movie about emissaries from a distant planet sending massive seed pods containing creatures that can assume the exact physical likeness of anyone they choose. I hid behind the couch and watched almost the whole thing. It scared the living crap out of me. I became convinced that I was the only real human on the planet. I then made the mistake of confessing this fear to my uncle once while we were all on a family road trip. He seized the moment and told me that he was a robot and so were my parents and my brother. He then started to jerk his body and yell "Malfunction!" over and over in a robot voice. I tried to jump out of the car while screaming and crying. I was terrified. It took me a while to get over that one.

3. Aliens and Lightning
This is a two parter. I suppose that it all started with my great grandmother who had a fear of lightning and would force my grandmother (Mammaw, as we lovingly called her) to hide in the closet whenever a storm hit. She in turn, forced me to take shelter in an underground garage that my grandfather (Pappaw, as we so lovingly called him) built on their property. If I was having a sleepover and it started to storm, she would wake me up from a deep sleep. She would then make me run from the front door to the car in the middle of of the dark night with some pretty terrifying thunderstorms crashing around us. We would then drive down a long driveway and sit in the hot car, in the garage until the storm passed. Sounds like fun huh? To make matters worse, my older brother told me that every time it thundered it meant that Martians were landing on earth. So, there I was with Mammaw clutching onto me for dear life and I was just praying to God that the Martians would not be able to find us. I have vowed to not pass the fear of lightning to my children so whenever it storms I get over-enthusiastic and act like I am having a blast. It's pathetic.


4. Fear that my ears were going to fall off
I owe this bizarre fear to my Robot Uncle as well. He told me once "You know how you lose your baby teeth and then your grown up teeth come in? Well, the same thing will happen to your ears. Your baby ears will get loose and then they'll just fall off. Then, you will grow a pair of grown up ears!" He then proceeded to yank on both of my ears. I was never the same after that.


5. Fear of choking to death
I choked on a French fry at a BBQ joint in Texas and my dad snatched me from my chair and beat the bejeezus out of my back. I promptly coughed up the French fry and asked in a pathetic shaky voice "Am I gonna die now?" The entire restaurant had stopped feasting to watch this little display and thought it was so cute that I said that that they all decided to laugh at me. I was offended and mortified. For a time after that, I would gag and grab my throat after very bite of food. It drove my older brother insane. Eventually my mom got a place mate and a dry erase marker. For every bite I swallowed without panicking I would get a mark on the place mat. After I earned 5 marks I could have a bowl of ice cream. I milked this fear for as long as I could and ate a ton of ice cream.


6. Short Heights
I have depth perception issues. I run into door frames and coffee tables all of the time. This makes hiking on rocky terrain a nightmare for me. I'm not afraid of heights, I can stand at the top of a huge mountain and feel invigorated. If I am standing at a height of 3 feet or lower then I am a nervous wreck. I have twisted my ankle so many times from simply stepping from rock to rock. I can handle climbing up a short height but if I'm climbing down, I walk like a petrified 80 year old woman. I'm sure that it's real sexy to watch. The above photo is making me break out into hives.

So there ya have it.

Okay people, I know that I'm not alone here, right? Please tell me some of your irrational fears. You know that you got em, so spill it.