Memorial Day Memories

Memorial Day might officially be my favorite holiday. Good sales, no night-before present wrapping, no stress, no fancy meal planning. no pressure. Just a holiday. A good one to sit back and remember just how good we've got it.

Karma

I admit to wishing fat thoughts towards certain people and the karmic ways of the universe gets revenge by raining on my parade and suffocating the life right out of me. Literally. I can't breath. Well, obviously I can a little...My body aches and the 'ice pick right behind my eyes' feeling is getting a little old. I'm mostly annoyed that 1) Porkchop got it and is miserable too, and 2) I don't have time for this! It started only a few hours before our Ice Cream Social, requiring me to call it off. Now it's rained for the last 24 hours so there's no playing outside. I take it back! I take them all back! Proof that I'm not entirely a lost cause, I scored four gallons of completely usable "oops" paint. It's not just usable, but it's going to be perfect! It is just begging, BEGGING me to get going. It practically jumped in the aisle at me and since I'm at an impass as to what the next step in the kitchen makeover should be, I'm switching rooms. Happy Birthday Dude! It's your birthday present to myself. I'm finally going to buckle down and do something with your room. Hopefully. That is my plan. If the paint fumes don't completely snuff me out... if I can muster the energy...energy shmenergy...it will be there next week...one more episode on Hulu shouldn't hurt...EVERYthing hurts.

They really are this cute. So hate me.

I am awake trying not itch my bazillion mosquito bites. I already let Ellie know I blamed her, but I think the mosquito bites ON the mosquito bites occurred AFTER we came home from the first ever hike with two toddlers (one in age, the other in size)- when Husband and I decided to do a little gardening in the moonlight. Sounds romantic, doesn't it? In reality, the kids were asleep. That is all. It wasn't part of my master Date Your Honey at Home Plan. You don't try and combine sixty-four cubic feet of Mel's mix with two pint-sized helpers if you want any of your blastedly expensive dirt to be left in the box. I don't know much about gardening (or anything), but I figured that one out without reading the book. Process of elimination dictates that the mixing of our soil would have to occur in the dark, during children's sleeping hours. Moonlight gardening does make us sound all spontaneous and care-free though, didn't it? Hate to burst your bubble.

Now I sit trying not to scratch, failing miserably, and debating between writing a real post or just posting the pictures. I'm about to go with 'just post the pictures so you can go to bed already!!' but needed to clarify lest you think this blog is turning in to one of those "picture perfect blogs". You know the ones. The ones where you think, "Damn. Why do they always look so happy?" "What is in their Kool-Aid?!" Not that it's wrong to look happy or be happy. It's just... well I don't know, maybe it's just me and my wicked ways but I always want to throw rocks at them and send them fat thoughts. Not all of them, but lots of them. Some of them I regard with great esteem and am truly happy for their happiness and beautifulness. Others? Well... not so much. I know. Wicked. I'll have to work on it. But we have been doing lots of fun things lately and my kids have been flippin' adorable (I think it's a plot to take me down. I'll explain later.)- minus the hike-side melt downs about everything and anything. That Scrunch can be such a girl! I didn't take any pictures during that little adventure. There are plenty of other pictures and of other fun. But please, oh please!? You're about to see a video of just how cute my kids can be. There will also be some pictures of our super fun weekend in the next couple of days. Keep your fat thoughts to yourself.

Birthday Barbecue

My days seem half as long as they used to be. I believe there is a time sucking gremlin/fairy/troll/billy goat hiding somewhere. Probably under my bed. And I think the little twerp knows where half the socks are, too. This is my excuse and I'll stand by it, so help me! The goat did it. He's not invited to any of my parties. Unless he fesses up (with GPS coordinates included) to the exact location of the Fountain of Youth or El Dorado.  And I throw a rockin' party. Just sayin'. Or so the one-to-seven year old crowd tells me.

When your nickname is Porkchop a good old fashioned barbecue is the way to go.

Too busy in the ice cream to smile for the camera. Yes, that's pork and beans in Porkchop's hair.

I'd like to thank the Academy...

Plaza Foods for always stocking fresh Nibs, whoever decided to stock Dr. Pepper with cane sugar, Ergo for saving my life, Ellie for introducing me to my lifesaver, Holly for almost always answering her phone or returning my calls no matter how wacko or long the message I leave. Marlene and Kaleem-the gifted practitioners who got us off to an amazing start. Dr. Gere- well, who's not in love with a Richard Gere somewhere? Dr. Senders, Nicole, Marta, Nancy, Michelle and the girl who's checked us in almost every week at the patient registration desk, but I still don't know your name and I don't feel bad because every week you still ask ours. Madela- you suck (teehee), but we couldn't have done it without you. My Mom and Dad for making me who I am today. My sisters. Yo hos! My Husband who really is a kind man,with a good heart, and the patience of Job. My Scrunch for only womping on him occasionally, but loving him always. And everyone else in between!

We made it through the first year! 

Happy Birthday Porkchop!

A Trip I'll Remember

I told Holly before I left, "It's kind of going to suck, but I'm excited I'm going to get to knit lace." I know. I know. Go ahead and laugh. It's true though. Although I love it, knitting lace with a toddler and another almost toddler is out while at home. It, along with breakfast with Katie and chillin' with Gram, was the upside to an otherwise lame reason for a get-out-of-town trip.

I spent longer figuring out which pattern to bring than I deciding what to wear. When I came across the pattern notes that read, "Knitting lace is good for the soul." That settled it. I cast on Jared Flood's Rock Island.

I don't know if it was so much the lace or getting to see my friend Wendy, but it turned out to be true.

My trip was good for my soul.

They say that people come in and out of your life and leave nothing. And others...You're never the same. Wendy is like that. Everything she says is quotable. Inspirational without sounding trite or preachy. Puffy from the Prednisone, but otherwise exactly the same and freaken' funny.

She tried to stay off the oxygen as long as possible during lunch. I don't know who she felt she needed to be tough for- me or her, but at any rate, she starts to get tired and has a harder time retrieving the right words. "Damn! I've always prided myself in being such a smart ass!"

With that, she headed to her room to rest and get back on her oxygen. I sat on the bench at the foot of her bed while we gossiped and caught up. The hospice nurse came by and I got to see what a tough girl act she puts on.

Wendy was my nursing mentor. When I walk into a situation thinking, "Aww, hell! Now what?" It's "what would Wendy do?" When she tells you to "Be Good" she doesn't necessarily mean 'follow all the rules'. She means, "Be Good."

This Thursday she is going to be honored at a fancy-shmancy dinner banquet for a lifetime of humanitarian service. She's handled approaching death with more grace than anyone I've ever seen and she's an example of what it means to practiced what you preach. I'm so proud of her.  Proud to have known her. And proud to have called her my friend.

"You take that great big heart of yours out into the world and do some good. I love you. Give your kiddos a hug."

So long for now.

"Mommy is going to go bye-bye for a few days and you're going to have fun with Papa."

"But why?"

"Because Mommy needs to go see her friend."

"But why?"

"Because she's very sick and I need to say goodbye."

"But why?"

"Because sometimes people get sick and they don't get better."

"But why?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Because it's the plan."

"But why?"

"Because."

"But why do you need to say good-bye?"

"Because she's going to go to Heaven."

"But why?"

"Because she's almost done with what she needs to do here on Earth."

"But why?"

C'mon kid!? Throw me a bone. How about an easy one like 'why is the sky blue'?

...

I'm getting on a plane and going sans children for a couple of days. It's very weird. Not only is my bag very small, very light, and lacking the usual sippy cups, snack bags, and arsenal of wipes, but I'm going to go see a friend for likely the last time. The up side is that I am going to get to see a bunch of other people too.

From her last e-mail...

"...everyone had headed back to their appointed home front, and I realized just how hard it is to say goodbye.  You can dress that word up, try to dance around it-whatever it takes...  But it still is goodbye, and it's damn hard.  Goodbye for me has taken on a much more deeper meaning.  As much as I try to stay in the moment, in the here and now and do not project past right now.  It's hard.  As I tell people I feel blessed that I have goodbyes that are hard for me to do-as there are people on this planet that have no one cheering them on and supporting them through a terminal illness.  So it is very much a mixed bag for me.  The sadness of the goodbye because of the grandness of the love. "


Damn, I'm gonna miss her!


I'll be back in a few days.

Diamond in the Rough

When we bought the house, the yard had "potential". That's real estate gibberish code for "good luck with that".

The not-so-hilarious side story is that the previous owners took what landscaping they didn't bury, with them. They decided to bury the pool. Awesome. What did they fill it in with? Don't know. Don't care. Maybe the next scene of NCIS, but I doubt it. They were inconsiderate previous owners, but I don't think they were criminals.

For the last year and a half I have kept the shades in the family room closed so you couldn't see the jungle. You've never been in my backyard? There's a reason for it. The eyesore stressed me out, but there was a method to our madness, and sometimes madness pays off! If you want to hang with me now, you know where to find me!

Scary, scary before.

Almost After

We still lack the throw pillows for the seating, a coat of paint here and there (especially on the fence), a few accessories, a jungle gym for the kids, and as promised a sandbox, and about six more garden boxes. I have more than enough room for eight 4x8 garden boxes! That's 256 cubic feet of gardening space! If I wanted to. We're starting with two.

No one can play on the grass for three weeks. Well, twenty days now. But I'm not the only one who's counting.

Now the listing could read "beautiful backyard oasis". We don't need to worry about that because now I don't ever want to leave.

Same as Any Other

I had plans of writing a thoughtful Mother's Day post in where I was able to articulate my disdain for the holiday as well as express my gratitude for the great women in my life. It was going to be a difficult task since I am not a fan of the Holiday. It is complicated, but after taking a consensus with like-minded women have, I have settled that it has to do with a combination of things that complicate the day.

Mom guilt. I could end the list there..do I include our Birthmom?...do we send a gift?...What do we say? Cuz she's not the Mom..but Mother's Day must suck?...Mother's Day sucks for so many...Remember when Mother's Day really sucked?...Aw,crap! Chalk this one up to another card that didn't make it in the mail in time!...Love you Mom!...Aw, crap! Did you call your Mom?...I talk to my Mom almost every day...Today is no different...Whatever...Cash that cow in and milk it for all it's worth...Breakfast in bed?...Foot massage?...I am going to send a card, I swear. It took two of us to hold down Porkchop to get a semi-presentable handprint and he tried to lick the paint....Next year...

Luckily for you, the weekend was too short (as usual) and I didn't have time to write my post or get anything in the mail. Time was sucked away by taking care of the sick man- as Scrunch calls it, debating the perfect placement of our first garden boxes, putting together an Ikea part for every dollar spent, a night of nausea followed by early morning puking, and an emergency trip to Walgreens. On the way home, we played a game by coming up with suggestions for what could have raised the clerks eyebrows even further. What do they think when you buy Sour Lifesaver Gummies, licorice Nibs, condoms, a pregnancy test, and athlete's foot spray? I would have won the game with my suggestion of Valtrex. Minds were put at ease with a result in the negative. And to seal the deal Porkchop began puking, confirming the flu. I spent the evening washing sheets.

Then we lost the dog.

I don't know when. I don't know how it happened. But I started to panic.

Don't worry. We found her.

Like any good Mother in response to their lost child, I wanted to beat her and hug her at the same time. I don't know where she thought she was going.

I fell asleep in the recliner after catching up on some charting.

I liked Ellie's idea. The perfect Mother's Day card should read, "I know today is not any different from yesterday. And tomorrow is going to be more of the same, but I appreciate how hard you work anyway." I'd send it to my Mom, too. Heck, raise your hand if this card would not apply to you and you wouldn't want it sent your way? That's what I thought.

Dear Me,

CJane wrote herself a letter a year later and I liked the idea. So I stole it and ran!

This is me one year ago.

Oh, wait.. No it isn't. At this time last year I was even less anxious about having my picture taken than I am now. Ask my dad how difficult it is to find a picture where I'm not sticking my tongue out or flipping off the camera.

Anyway...

Dear Me,

If you thought infertility had a way of putting things in perspective, just wait. You are going to get to sit in many doctor's waiting rooms with a hefty, full lump of gratitude in your throat at the realization of all you've got. You won't even have it in you to write a ranting post about last week's follow up being over an hour and half late for a less than two minute visit.

If you're wondering if the kid will be cute, he will.

Scrunch will come around to the idea of having a brother. You will want to beat her when she thumps him on the head with the chess piece, but you will want to cry at the cuteness when you overhear her call him, "Bubba." "Oh, Bubba. You're so cute!" "I love you sooo much!" she will say with a southern drawl, but only if she thinks you're out of earshot.

Yeah, so that kitchen and dining room color you thought you'd love till you drew your last breath...um, not so much.

Tired? You don't even know the meaning of it, but it won't last. You'll get your energy back. And just in time to repaint. From now on just remember...Friends don't let friends drive to Home Depot to pick paint colors while chemically altered. No painting while hormonally deranged!!!

Ani and Jedi are still a pain, but they're still your pain and probably always will be.

Life only gets better. 'Cept the boobies. They will never be the same. Just roll the empty banana peels up and tuck them in your bra. It'll be okay.

It's all gonna be better than okay.

No flowers for Mother's Day

But I should have a whole backyard full of grass and drought, dog rolling, sand throwing, children playing pirates, and then dumping left over lemonade from the stand resistant plants. Headed to the nursery now.

You can no longer get sunburned sitting in my kitchen. Two coats of primer and a coat of Martha's Tailor's Chalk and my house looks less and less like a South American motel, minus the pink Jesus wall.

Vacaciones

I'm going to take a break from my Soaps and eating Bob-bons this week so I can take pics of the kitchen as requested by Sonofasonofajack. I don't know what a sonofasonofajack is, but it makes me laugh knowing who it is. So I will do as I'm told. I like people who make me laugh.

In order to comply I need to...

finish screwing on the hardware for the last three cup pulls
plant an orchid
finish painting the place mats
paint the door
find a clock
find a rug (And by find, I really mean find. My budget for this little makeover on a whim never actually existed. If I succeed I will have completely redecorated a kitchen/dining area for a dime.)
finish painting the eat-in dining area
hang the cabinets
paint the cabinet doors
spray paint the fixture
hang the fixture
spray the chairs
cut vinyl for the chairs

I need to get this all done so I can take pics of the whale weather vane I saw on the side of the road in the middle of no where that I almost swerved off the highway to retrieve. I love it. I think it is something that Sonofasonofajack would want to steal. My goal with this little project is to get the text from Sonofasonofajack when she sees the pics, "I'm seriously hating you right now." It will mean they likey and it will have been worth my hardwork and the vacay from my Bon-bon eating, soap watching ways. That's what I do when I'm not blogging, didn't ya know?