It's All Over

I've gotta say, I'm always a little disappointed when Christmas is over. The stores go back to normal and the stress is over until I get my credit card bill. But "the holidays" and all the negativity that comes with them never really bothered me. I love shopping for other people and decorating and wrapping and baking.

The week after Christmas is really say for me. My house always looks so bare after the tree comes down. Work is a happier place when there are snowflakes hanging from the ceiling.

The thing that I hate most about the after-Christmas season is that people get mean again. For a short time during the holidays people remember what it means to love others. People are generous and kind. Someone in line a head of you pays for your coffee. You actually give your change to the guy standing outside Target. We adopt needy families, soldiers, and dogs from shelters. We shovel our neighbor's snow and tell everyone we encounter to have a Merry Christmas.

As soon as it's over it's as if we forget that we're all still the same people we were last week. We go back to our routines and get caught up in ourselves. The man outside Target is still hungry and the family you adopted still needs help.

So here's my challenge to you. Keep it going. Let the person with less items at the register go ahead of you. Smile and mean it when you say "have a nice day" to EVERYONE. Send a random gift to someone who could use a pick-me-up. Get a Starbucks card for Christmas? Buy that person behind you their coffee. Do it all year. Christmas is over but kindness doesn't have to be.

Triple Grande Carmel Brulee Latte, Please

I actually went to the mall on the Saturday before Christmas. I actually don't mind the crowds and lines as long as everybody is reasonably patient and normal. I'm a busy procrastinator too and I completely understand that there are a million people doing their last minute shopping. That's why I'm there too. Maybe you just need two more things or some stocking stuffers. Maybe you just started and you're doing a mad dash for everything in 48 hours. Whatever the case may be, if you're going to be a lazy procrastinator you have to at least be understanding.

Understand that parking will be difficult. Do not cut people off and steal their spot, they've been circling just as long as you have.

Understand that the lines will be long. You have to wait your turn.

Understand that this late in the game the store may be out of the size you need, it's not the sales associate's fault. She is making $8/hr and still smiling at you. Give her a break.

Understand that the stores will be a mess and you may not be able to find exactly what you're looking for. Do the best you can or move on. Do not stand there and complain about it. It will not make the item you want magically appear.

There is no point in being rude and obnoxious. Everyone is in a hurry, everyone has 8 other store to go to, everyone is just as stressed out as you are. take a deep breath and get over it.

If you just relax a little the Saturday before Christmas really isn't that bad. Just don't try to go to Starbucks. Those people are out of control.

It's More Than Garbage

It's Christmas time and that means a lot of things. It means things that matter, like the birth of Christ, and even more that don't matter like ridiculous traffic. Something that shouldn't matter, and for the majority of normal people doesn't, is wrapping presents.

We go searching for the perfect gift for everyone on our list and then buy garbage to put it in. I'm not kidding. When you purchase a roll of wrapping paper you are literally paying for garbage. The receiver will rip it off, crumble it up, and throw it away. This frustrates Brian and he would just as well put gifts in a brown lunch bag.

For me, though, I love wrapping presents. People hate it and see it as an overwhelming task that haunts them until it's completed. To them I say don't buy so many presents. Or take the slacker's way out and get gift bags. Please at least use coordinating tissue paper. Me? I think of it like dressing up the gift for a special occasion.

Gifts are great but it's all about presentation. The person you're giving it to knows you didn't just run into Target 10 minutes before the party and grab the first thing you saw under $20, even if you did. It shows them you put time and thought into doing something just for them. If you do it right they will say "it's so pretty I don't want to open it!" Mission accomplished. At this point they honestly value the THOUGHT and NOT what's inside. Now your Target Dollar Spot grab bag of novelty post-it notes and travel sized hand lotion is the best gift at the party.

If my mother taught me anything it's how to wrap a present.

Oh, Cookie Day!

It happens once a year in houses all over the country. Sisters, grandmothers, aunts and friends gather together at the crack of dawn with age old recipes and a pot of coffee brewing. Armed with butter and parchment paper we retreat to the kitchen. No one will escape without a thorough coating of flour on their pants and in their hair.

It's cookie day!!

This year my best friend came down from Los Angeles to have cookie day at my house. We used some of her favorite family recipes and some I gathered together, 7 total kinds of treats. She brought her pup, Charlie, and we put on the Christmas music and got to work.

We only really took one break for lunch. Brian ordered pizza for dinner and we took bites in between rolling dough and taking sheets out of the oven. Ten hours later we had 34 dozen cookies and 2 trays of bark, and we only sacrificed three broken cookies. She says we're rock stars. She's right.

Some of the fruits of our labor. Photo courtesy of Allison Walentowicz

Best Tree Ever

My Christmas tree, as well as the rest of the decorations, has always been themed. I work hard to make my tree look like it belongs in a Macy's New York store front window. I actually have two sets of decorations that I alternate between each year. I also have a box labeled "Christmas, Miscellaneous." This contains all the ornaments that have been given to me over the years, the ones from my childhood, ones that my girlfriends have made me for our annual ornament exchanges, the ones we've gotten on vacation, etc. They are in this box because they don't match my aforementioned themes. They have also never been on my tree.

This year I decided to forget the theme. I wanted Caleb to be a part of this tradition, maybe start some new ones. I got out ALL the Christmas boxes and picked through each one for my favorites. I opened the miscellaneous box first. Between Caleb's excitement and reminiscing over each special ornament it was the most fun I have ever had decorating for Christmas.

Nothing matches. There is no order or organized pattern. The people at Macy's would laugh at me. But my tree and my home are full of precious memories and it's beautiful.

Game On, Santa!

Christmas is in full swing at our house. I got the tree up and the house all decorated and stockings hung on the fireplace. It's wonderful and makes me so happy. Brian, on the other hand, couldn't care less but lovingly puts up with me and all my holiday madness.

I had to move an arm chair to make room for the tree so there was a big void in the front room while I cleaned. Caleb went down for a nap and when he woke up the space was filled with a 7 1/2 foot tree glowing with lights. He stood in awe in front of it and under his tiny little toddler breath whispered a drawn out "wow!" He was beyond excited to help me decorate it. I gave him ornaments I knew he couldn't break and let him put them where ever he wanted. He's a good little helper.

We listened to a Christmas station on Pandora and sang and danced and smelled the cinnamon candle I was burning. Now to finish the shopping and get everything wrapped!!

Not-So- Black Friday

I overslept on Black Friday!!

I had every intention of being out the door at 5:30am (actually late for me) to be at the one and only store I planned on hitting on Black Friday. I spent the better part of the after-dinner-evening on Thanksgiving going through all the ads with the other crazy women in my family. I spent an unspeakable amount of time on Wednesday looking at online ads. I had my plan and I was only going to one store. I even amazed myself.

Too bad I was on call Thanksgiving night and got called in twice. I got home at 5:00am and decided I would lay my head down on the couch for 30 minutes to get a second wind. An energizing nap if you will. Brian woke me up at 8:00am.

Ahhh!! The store opened at 6:00am!! Brushed my teeth, made some coffee, kissed Caleb and got to the store at 9:00.

Distaster.

Almost everything I wanted was gone and the store looked worse than a Kansas trailer park after a tornado. I did get a few things but it was not nearly as productive as it should have been. I didn't even shop the rest of the mall, I just went home.

I also had every intention of cleaning the house so I could Christma-fy it. I almost always put up the tree and redecorate for Christmas on the day after Thanksgiving. Done with turkey? Game on Santa. But after cleaning and lack of sleep I was so exhausted that I didn't decorate at all. This Thursday... I promise.

A Day of Togetherness?

Holidays at the hospital make me sad. Hospitals don't close and someone will be here on those days. Nurses, techs, secretaries, doctors and therapists will be here taking care of sick people instead of sharing the day and making memories with their families. I'm sad for them.

On the other hand, we all (ok most of us) got into the medical field because we want to help, we want to serve, and we want to know that we made a difference for someone. That doesn't change because it happens to be Christmas.

And it's really important that those people are working because the ER tends to be very full on holidays. Mostly elderly people. Two reasons why the elderly come to the hospital on a holiday: 1 They are especially lonely without their spouse on a day of togetherness. 2 Their family doesn't want to deal with them. And this what makes holidays at the hospital the saddest.

People who don't want to keep an eye on Grandma Betty with dementia during dinner or listen to Grandpa Joe tell the same story 6 times bring them to the ER. Trust me, we'll find something wrong with your 88 year old Great Aunt Ethel and admit her. You're off the hook.

They get left here and we get to take care of them while you enjoy your festivities. Don't worry, our cafeteria serves turkey and all the fixin's on Thanksgiving so Grandma won't be missing anything. And if you're the type of person who dumps their elderly family off at the hospital on a holiday I guarantee we'll take better care of her.

So whether they get left here or come in because they're lonely we're here, 24 hours a day seven days a week including holidays. We'll take care of them, keep them company, listen to their stories, give them a hot turkey dinner, decorate their room with ornaments, and sing carols. We'll make sure they know that someone cares about them when they're loved ones aren't around. Sometimes they tear up and squeeze your hand while they say "God bless you, thank you." And that makes me happy.

I'm Blessed To Have Known Her

It's never easy when a loved one passes away. I never realized how hard it would be when someone else's loved one passed, though.

My best friend's mother passed away over the weekend. She was diagnosed with an inoperable form of cancer in September and was placed in Hospice care a little over a week ago. I'm not sure anyone was prepared for how quickly she declined. After of a few days at home she decided she didn't want to take her medications anymore or be on oxygen. Saturday afternoon at 3:38pm EST Robinn took her last breath and left this painful world.

I wasn't exceptionally close to her, but as the mother of my best friend of the last 17 years Robinn has been a very present light in my life. She was there when I graduated high school. She saw me get married, she held my son before my own mother did when he was just days old.

My heart aches for my friend as she goes through such a difficult time. It's killing me to not be back in Michigan with her. She's my best friend, I should be there crying with her. Although we both live in California we are two hours apart and now she is across the country with her family. I haven't even hugged her and I can't be there for her right now. All I can do is tell her I love her and it seems so small. The more I think about it, though, she's probably hugged out and cried out and I think I'm the one that needs the hug from her.

The funeral is Wednesday, followed by a series of holidays that will be drastically different forever without Robinn's smile. I pray for peace for her family and strength to make it one day at a time.

Do They Make Jet Propelled Rocket Shoes Yet?

This week is going to go by incredibly fast. Tomorrow is the ball, plus dropping off the dog, picking up the babysitter and driving 3 hours to get there. Then we're there over night.

Sunday we drive three hours home, drop off the babysitter, pick up the dog, then dinner and the day is over.

Monday I'm working. Tuesday I'm working. Wednesday I'm working.

Thursday is Thanksgiving. I love spending the whole day at my dads house with my whole crazy family but nothing productive will get done.

Friday I plan on doing some Black Friday shopping, putting up my tree, and making my whole house look like Santa threw up. I love Christmas.

Saturday I'm working, which is really like my Monday since that is the start of my 5 day work week. Throw in a birthday party that week too (note that the above plans do not include purchasing a gift, when do I do that?)

Then it's November 29 (so it might as well be December) and I still haven't gotten a hair cut, gone grocery shopping, used my groupon for a mani/pedi that expires on Nov 23 or even thought about my Christmas cards or online gift shopping for out of state family.

Is it New Year's yet? I'm exhausted.

Smell The Color Nine

It's been a rough week. For a lot of reasons. My brain is just all over the place and I can't concentrate.

I'm not kidding. It took me 15 minutes to write those three sentences and one of them is a fragment. So let me just bullet point some good things that I can focus on:

I discovered Trader Joe's soy chocolate ice cream sandwiches. It's taking everything I have not to eat the whole box.

Christmas is EVERYWHERE! I love it

Starbucks has BOGO holiday drinks right now

My niece is on her high school swim team and got sixth in the state for her division! Go Sam!

The Marine Corps Ball is this weekend. I get to wear a fancy dress and take 2 days off work

I finally got my eyebrows done. I feel like a new woman.

Thanksgiving is close and I'm ready for family time.

There's so much more to write about but it needs to wait until I can gather my thoughts. Thanks for your patience.

Who Get's An MRI Of Their Thumb?

I just got an email from my mom that she had surgery. A month ago. Huh? It wasn't major, she tore a ligament in her thumb and had out patient surgery to reattach it.

Still. My mom had surgery and she didn't tell me. No one told me.

I know I'm "all the way on the West coast" but I have a phone. And e-mail and facebook and texting and skype. Seriously. It's 2012. The only reason it should have taken a month for me to know that my mother injured herself and needed surgery is if the information was written with a quill pen and sent by covered wagon.

At the same time... it was her thumb. It's not like she had her spleen removed. She's in good spirits, even made sure her nail polish coordinated with her cast color. Her second cast was green. I always thought green nail polish looked like a bad fungus. But if anyone can pull it off, it's my mom.

Universe 1, Kelly 0

I woke up on the couch because Caleb wouldn't go back to bed last night. The night before was the same only I waited out his tantrum for an hour. Last night I just didn't have it in me and we ended up on the couch.

I woke up while Brian was flying around the house trying to get ready. I needed up anyway to shower and get the dog to the groomer. In the middle of my shower Caleb yells "potty!" so out I come, dripping wet running down the hallway trying to hold up a towel so I can get him to the potty. We made it.

Breakfast was a fight. Brushing teeth was a fight. Getting dressed was a fight. Finally Caleb and I are both ready. The plan: Drop the dog off at the groomer and hit Costco while we wait. I've got the list, extra clothes for Caleb, I covered my car seat with sheet to minimize dog hair, travel mug of coffee in hand. Locked the house up and buckled Caleb in his seat only to realize I forgot the dog.

We made it to Costco and wandered around killing time. I only needed chicken but I wanted to get it last to minimize the time it wasn't refrigerated. I got 17 other things I didn't need and the groomer called. We got all checked out and to the car, putting everything in the trunk when I realized I forgot the chicken. Back inside we went.

Caleb fell asleep before we got back to the groomer. 10 minutes. He woke up when we got there. That will be his nap for the day.

A portion of a major road on my commute back home was closed so we followed a very.slow. line of cars through a winding side street detour. There were police directing traffic but 'Im not sure how much they were helping. It reminded me of trying to get home after the fireworks in Michigan. It took me 30 minutes to go 2 miles.

Caleb spilled his fruit pouch all over his last clean pair of pants and had to sit in it until we got home. I forgot to put dinner in the crockpot before we left. A political activist knocked on my door. Oh, and Brian shaved Caleb's head last night while I was shopping. I quit.

Happy Halloween!

The last few days have been insane. I'm not sure how many hours of sleep I actually got because I can't function well enough to count.

My department at the hospital has 6 people that keep it going 24/7, which right from the start is not enough. One of them is out on maternity leave until December. We've all adjusted our schedules and sucked it up to cover her shifts while she's gone. It never occurred to management to actually get another person to help. But I get it, it's temporary.

Then one of our techs had an emergency appendectomy, two days later another tech went on leave of absence. That leaves 3 of us. Except that Jesse had a planned vacation before all this happened. He covered 36 hours straight before going out of town. I came in on my day off to relieve him and for the next 5 days it was just me and one other girl keeping this department alive every hour. The department survived. The two of us are another story.

Last night my eyes were blurry, my head was foggy, my legs felt completely disconnected from my body. And I was still on call.

Jesse is back from vacation and one of those three techs is back from leave. Still, even with 4 of us we are stretched so thin and working way too hard. I texted Ashley and begged her to come back from maternity early. Next time you have a baby just strap him to your back and keep working. If Sacagawea can do it so can you. And, Amanda, next time you have an infection that requires surgery just take some aspirin. You're tough, you'll be fine.

After my shift tonight I am on call. Then? Sleep.

Sleep. Sleep.

Special Delivery

If you've never met my mom I'm not sure you can fully appreciate the amount of crazy that illuminates the room when she walks in. She lives out of state and I see her once a year for a few hours over dinner but she still makes an effort (more than I do) to stay in touch. One of the ways she does this is with boxes. She mails me shoe boxes full of ridiculous things that make my brain hurt trying to figure out why she would have included those particular items.

Why shoe boxes? For starters they are a practical size for mailing multiple small items. But more importantly she wants me to know what kind of shoes she's wearing. I'm serious. She loves Birkenstocks. Loves them. She wears them with everything year round. I tried to explain to her that when you live in Michigan you can't wear your Birkies outside in the middle of February. "But I wore them with socks so my toes would be warm!" Oh, of course, that makes sense. I gently encouraged her to broaden her shoe wardrobe. Now I get the boxes they come in with the little picture on the side so I know exactly what she's wearing.

The very special thing about my mom's boxes is what she puts in them. There is always ALWAYS a festive dish towel for whatever holiday is closest to the day she shipped it. By festive I mean ugly. There are usually homemade chocolate covered somethings, half melted, and pencils.

Pencils.

Unsharpened No.2 pencils. These are also festive. The best was my birthday box which did not contain actual pencils but instead a framed photograph of pencils. That went on the mantle.

My anniversary box had an open package of paper napkins and a picture of my best friend when she was in middle school. Happy Anniversary?

Despite the crazy I do appreciate the effort. I know she's thinking of me and trying to do something nice. I would probably miss the boxes if she didn't send them. Yesterday I got a Halloween box complete with a neon orange dish towel. I just shook my head and threw away the card that had a picture of someone else's baby dressed as a pumpkin.

Love you, Mom.

Go. To.Bed.

At work our doctors use a thing called SpeechQ to dictate their reports. It's a fancy little contraption equipped with either a head set or a hand held thing that looks like a Wii controller. They don't even have to press a delete button. They just say "scratch that" and the genie inside does whatever they ask. The only problem is that we have a lot of Asian radiologists and their words often get replaced with a word that is similar but doesn't have an 'L' in it.

I wish I had SpeechQ right now. I'd like to blog about something real but I'm just so tired that my fingers are barely working. It would be easy, I can pronounce my Ls and Rs.

The Old Man Is Snoring

It rarely rains in Southern California. We literally have deserts. It’s something that I really miss about living back east, I absolutely love thunderstorms. Even when it does rain here it’s just a little drizzle and it’s over. No thunder, no downpours.

It’s rained twice this week, enough that I had Brian turn off the sprinklers. I love it. I’m home with my boy snuggled on the couch in my jammies drinking my coffee. I opened up the living room blinds so I can see the rain and hear the cars splashing by.

Unfortunately people here don’t know how to drive in the rain. If you’re not involved in the accident you’re stuck in all the traffic caused by it. Good thing I got my errands (most of them) done yesterday. I went to IKEA, Lowe’s, and Costco on a Saturday. I’m either very brave or out of my mind. You decide.

Done and Done!

I think it’s awkward when people update their facebook status with their child’s bowel movements. I get that it’s a big deal the first time and I understand your excitement but I don’t really want to hear about it. I assumed other people felt the same way (especially those without kids) so I never posted about our potty training progress.

Until yesterday…

I may be making a premature announcement but I’m just way too excited! We are done with diapers!!! Gone, thrown away, trash man came. Good bye diapers!!!

We started the three day method on Sunday (http://www.3daypottytraining.com) It’s no joke. Brian and I are both exhausted. Caleb went through 4 pair of underwear by 10am and I’m pretty sure I said “tell me when you have to potty” in my sleep. I don’t even care, though, because by the end of day 1 he was telling me every single time and 80% of the time made it all the way to the bathroom without so much as a dribble.

Day two was even better. Day three he made it every single time and went hours staying dry. That night he slept all night and woke up dry.

Today is day 5 and the first time we tried leaving the house, also the first time he’s worn pants since Sunday. We had an appointment to tour a new day care and I needed to go grocery shopping. The day care I wasn’t so worried about. I knew it would be a quick trip and they have little kid toilets. But the commissary? Long trip, only one bathroom at the back of the store, battles with the cart, pants, shoes, adult toilets… I was one nervous mamma. But I packed two extra pair of underwear and two more pair of pants and prepared for the worst.

Complete success!! He stayed dry the whole trip and waited until we got home to go to the potty and made it!

I’m officially calling it done. Caleb is potty trained!! And in less than a week!!!

Hi, I'm Kelly

When I started this blog I did not use anyone’s real name or post photos. I intentionally tried to keep it unidentifiable other than our location in Southern California. I wasn’t really sure how I felt about having my son’s photo all over the internet. It’s all over Facebook but that’s private, I actually know all the people I'm friends with. I didn’t ever use my husband’s real name because I didn’t want people to know who he was when I wrote 16 pages about what an idiot he is for not folding the towels correctly. Typical wife stuff.

But it occurred to me recently that, first of all, I’m not the kind of wife that goes around publicly bashing my husband and griping about him to strangers. He is a loving, wonderful man who takes care of our family. I’ll bash him in private. On Facebook.

It also occurred to me that the reason I love reading the blogs that I do is because they feel personal. I feel like I know the people writing them because they share details about their family. I know their kids names and I’ve seen their picture from the 4th grade talent show. And the truth is, I want you to like me too. So enough of this nickname nonsense.

My husband’s name is Brian. We met in middle school in Mr Qualls science class. He was a brainiac. We started dating during our sophomore year of high school 15 years ago and we’ve been married for 6 years. In 2010 our precious son is Caleb was born and he is the best and most challenging thing about my life. Our dog is a shepherd mix named Remington but we mostly call him Remi. Are we friends now?

Timeline of Events

I’m. Exhausted.

I’ve said this a million times and I meant it a million times. A million and one, though, is the back breaker. Lets start with Tuesday night. (I honestly had to stop and think about what day it was.)

Tuesday started at 3am when my alarm clock went off. I started my regular 10 hour shift at 5am and came home to make dinner really quick so The Captain could eat and get to class. Then I chased a 2 year old around for the rest of the night before giving him a bath and putting him to bed.

Wednesday I would have loved to have slept in a little but my lovely son has an internal clock that goes off at 5am, if not before. So we were up. Wednesday is my late day at work so I get to spend the morning with my family but also means that I am at work until 12:30am.

I checked in with the ER doctors and they assured me there was nothing pending so I decided to go home. Now I am on call until 4:00am. I got home last night at 1:00am and tried to wind down a little while praying I didn’t get called in. I did not get called in. I might as well have because I got just as little sleep as if I had been working all night. The rest of the night (morning) went like this:

1:45am Finally fell asleep

2:05am Mister came into my room wanting in our bed.

2:06am Fight with Mister about sleeping in his own bed

2:20am Mister is asleep in his own bed and I am tip toeing back to mine.

2:21am Head joyfully hits pillow.

2:24am Mister is in my room again.

2:25am Fight with Mister

Repeat the last 3 steps innumerable times until

5:10 Mister is in my room AGAIN and I give up.

I need SOME sleep and so does he. We both slept wonderfully until 7:00am when he decided he was up for the day. Really? He wanted to watch a movie. Perfect, you watch a movie and I will fall asleep on the couch.

7:10 Mister is completely fixated on The Fox and the Hound and I am asleep on the couch.

7:16 “Mamma!! Hungry!!!”

7:17 Make gun shape with hand and shoot self in face.

And They Lived Happily Ever After

I recently got back from a quick trip to New Hampshire for a friend’s wedding. It was great for a lot of reasons.

1. I went by myself. No kid. No husband. Which meant less responsibility and whatever I want on tv and sleeping in the middle of the bed with ALL the pillows. Ah.

2. New Hampshire has a legitimate Autumn. The colors were beautiful and the air was perfect. I also saw a sign that said “Moose Crossing.”

3. I got to see one of my oldest and dearest friends for the first time in years. I’ve been friends with her for something like 23 years since 2nd grade when her mom was my girl scout leader. We went on each other’s family vacations because, well, we were family. There’s a very long history to our friendship. It’s been too long since I’ve seen her and she was beautiful.

Her grandmother didn’t recognize me at first. “What’s your name?” She stared at me for a moment and then burst with excited and her eyes got wide, “Oh! I was at your wedding!!” Yes, Grandma Zach, you were at my wedding. I love her.

The ceremony started and I cried before I even saw her. I cried when I saw her. I cried when she danced with her dad. I cried on the way back to the airport. We both have our own lives on opposite coasts and we don’t keep in touch nearly enough. Being there made me realize how much I really do miss her and leaving was terribly sad.

I’m so thankful I was able to go (time off from work approved at the last minute thanks to an amazing co-worker who covered for me). It meant the world to me to be there with her on the first day of the rest of her life.

To Be Old...

This past week my dad and my step-mother both turned 70. They’re the cutest old people I know and I love them. My very generous uncle purchased tickets for a harbor dinner cruise for 12 people to celebrate the occasion. (Those things aren’t cheap!) Best of all, it was a surprise for both of them.

My aunt and uncle had my parents believing they were just going out to dinner. Then they thought the surprise was that it was that it was the cruise. Good thing my dad wore a suit jacket. When they got on the ship the rest of us were already there trying to hide behind our napkins while they got their complimentary glasses of champaign. My brothers are both over 6 feet tall, it didn’t work.

We had such a great evening cruising around the bay and dancing to the live band. My parents even got out on the dance floor. Did I mention that they are adorable? The best part about the whole evening was being able to see the joy on their faces and knowing that they knew they were loved. They smiled ear to ear and laughed from their bellies at “old” jokes.

When I’m 70 I want to be just like them.

Thursday Rant: In Between Sizes

I hate being in between sizes. People who say they are “in between sizes” do, in fact, have a size. They just don’t like it.

There are two types of in between sizes: For people who are actively striving to lose weight and consistently lose inches week to week it doesn’t make sense to buy new clothes. They won’t fit you in a month anyway. Nothing in your closet fits. Good for you.

I believe the majority of us, myself included, fit into the second type of in between sizers. We just have a bunch of fat clothes from before we started losing weight and a bunch of skinny clothes that we bought when we lost the weight and before we put half of it back on. And we still have nothing that fits. We are literally the size in between all the sizes we own.

If you’re like me, the skinny clothes depress you because they used to fit. The fat clothes depress you because they used to fit and you hated yourself when they did…. But they are slowly starting to fit again.

The summer is nearing its end in Southern California and the extreme heat has finally taken a break. I was able to wear jeans for the first time since March. Scratch that. The weather permitted jean wearing. I actually could not because I only own “in between sizes” jeans and none that actually fit.

I’m going to a wedding next week and the Marine Corps Ball is coming up. I just tried on every dress I own, even those inappropriate for said events. Every one of them either fell right off or didn’t zip. Looks like I need to go shopping.

Thursday Rant: Flies

I live in a part of the country that has beautiful weather 95% of the year. What makes it better than other beautiful parts of the country? No bugs. We like to leave our back door open when we’re home so the dog and Mister can come and go as they please. It’s a luxury we wouldn’t have anywhere else.

This summer is different. We have flies. In the 5 years we have been in California we have never had flies. Maybe it’s because we live a little further inland now or maybe it’s because we never had a door we could leave open before. I’m telling you the flies are taking over my house. Ok, just the kitchen.

The Captain just bought an electric fly swatter. Imagine the voltage of those outdoor hanging bug zappers in the shape of a small tennis racket. You don’t have to wait for the fly to land, you just swing mid-flight and ZAP! Dead fly. It’s actually a lot of fun and I’m getting really good at my backhand.

Pumpkin Porn

I love Autumn. Love it. I grew up in Michigan where it not only means the start of school (I’m a nerd and I loved this too) but also cooler temperatures and crisp air, scarves, boots, sweaters, apple picking, cider mills, changing leaves, football, and pumpkins. Lots of pumpkins.

Pumpkins are one of the few things you get with the season all over the country, even in places that don’t really have seasons. California does not have “Fall” but we have pumpkins and they’re everywhere. I get excited when I see them in bins outside the grocery store and when the back corner of Target is filled with décor in all my favorite earth tones. I’m drawn to it and I want it all. It is for this reason that a friend of mine calls it pumpkin porn. It’s not just pumpkins but everything that embodies Fall and the good feelings you get inside from it. She loves it as much as I do.

As much as I want to get into the spirit of the season I find it very difficult when it’s 104 degrees outside. I really want to take my son to the pumpkin patch. I don’t want to do it in flip flops. I would love to sip on some stove top apple cider or a pumpkin spice latte but the thought of drinking anything hot makes me throw up in my mouth a little.

I know it’s only September but it doesn’t last long. Christmas starts earlier and earlier every year and I’m losing precious time. Im holding out hope for cooler temps in October so I can actually enjoy the pumpkin porn before I feel the need to put up my tree and decorate the house. That’s a whole different level of crazy and a major event for me.

Thursday Rant: Parking Garages

It really doesn’t matter how slow you go or what kind of tires you have; it is impossible to drive through a parking garage without squealing your tires. I’ve tried everything. I’ve gone slow. I’ve gone fast. I’ve taken the turn tight and wide. Without fail every single day when I go to work I create one of the most awful noises known to man. From the very first turn into the structure all the way up to the top where employee parking is my tires scream like they’re being murdered. What do they shellac that floor with that makes it do that?!

Did You Forget About Me?

We are home from vacation!! Ok, we’ve been home for a week and I still haven’t updated. I missed another Thursday rant AND I swore I would never blog about not blogging. I’m bad at this. Time to play catch up.

“Vacation” was great. It’s never really vacation when we go back to see family. Often times it’s more stressful than anything else. It’s really hard to split your time between families and friends who all want to see you while you’re in town. There are a couple people I didn’t get to see and some that I didn’t get to spend as much time with as I would have liked. Overall, it was a nice trip.

My sister got married (the initial reason for the trip). The ceremony was in her backyard, very simple, very short and very casual. The bride wore denim capris. It’s what they wanted and it worked well for them. Congrats to my sister and new brother-in-law.

Spending time with my sister-in-law and her family (we crashed at their house for the week) makes us want to move back home. There are about 5 houses in her neighborhood that are for sale. I’m only half kidding when I say I’m considering it.

Mister started school today! It’s a preschool class one day a week that he went to last year also. He loves it. We made some friends (friends for him and mommy friends for me) so we decided to do it again this year. Mister was SO excited when we got there and saw some of his friends that he hasn’t seen all summer. Couple of new kids too. It’s going to be a good year.

It’s still hot. It’s September and I’m over it.

Thursday Rant: Being Late

Running late for the airport... ahhhh!!! Ok so I know it's a day late for my Thursday rant. We went flying on a jet plane yesterday to visit our families in Michigan. It was a long day of travel on only an hour of sleep and no real nap for Mister. But we're here!

Also, this will be the only post until we get back. No Thursday rant next week either. Yes I have my laptop and I know other bloggers post while on vacation but I'm just not that hard core.

See you next week

What Weekend?

What a busy weekend. And it’s only 9am on Saturday. The dog made it to the groomer, I made it to the produce market, the commissary and Wal-Mart (I hate that store). My hair got cut, the laundry is completely caught up (folded and put away too!), but there is still so much left to do.

As I type I am on call for the hospital and then Mister is going to a photo shoot. That’s right, he’s officially a model! Ok, maybe not so officially, it’s not a paid gig. But it is for a very real catalog done by a very real professional photographer who also happens to be my brother-in-law. He called last night and said he needed a kid for a bicycle ad. I hope it’s not a disaster.

Thursday Rant: Dog Groomers (the long story)

I had an appointment for my dog at the groomer this morning at 9:00am. I also had other appointments and errands that HAD to get done today. I changed one of my other appointments to accommodate the groomer. I had my whole day planned out to maximize efficiency while toting around a 2 year old.

I got to the groomer right on time and mentioned that he needed to be muzzled for the nail trim because he hates it. Last time they didn’t even do his nails because he got snarly. So she pulls my file card and there is a big yellow sticky note on it. “Yes, I wrote down that he was a problem last time. Actually, he was a problem the whole time.” Really? Because last time you told me he was fine for the bath and brush, just the nails were a problem. “Ok, if you need to then just muzzle him for the whole thing.”

She basically told me that he was just too difficult and refused to groom him. At all. I understand the liability and blah blah blah but she wouldn’t even TRY to muzzle him, or let me muzzle him. So I told her I really wish someone would have told me that on the phone when I made my appointment. I’m seriously limited on time since we are going out of town next week and he needs to be groomed before going to the dog sitter. TODAY was when I had time for this. I had a schedule, remember?

“Oh you don’t have an appointment.” What? Yes. I called last week and made an appointment for 9:00am. “Oh I guess I forgot to write it down.” So if someone had been paying attention and pulled my card on the phone I would have had time to call around to other places and go somewhere else. Instead you lead me to believe everything was fine until I showed up this morning and now I’m stuck.

I left beyond pissed off, loaded the dog and Mister back into the truck (not an easy task) and went to Petco down the street. I hate them but I figured they could get him in on short notice. Yes, but they need a copy of his rabies vaccine. Called the old vet, no answer. I went home to get it, can’t find it. I called the vet, he’s past due by 2 months. Arg! Called a local vet and made an appointment for a rabies shot for tomorrow morning. Called Petco, they need 48 hours after the shot before they’ll see him. I DON’T HAVE 48 HOURS. I have today and tomorrow to get a bazillion things done and now Im ADDING a vet visit.

No time now, I’ve got to get Mister to the sitter’s house so I can make my hair appointment. In the end I found a completely new groomer that I’ve never been to and have no real reviews for. But they are reasonably priced, they don’t require a vaccine and they can get me in tomorrow morning. Plus, they are right next to two other stores that are on my list. Winner.

Thursday Rant: Customer Service Representatives

First of all, when I call your customer service number it’s because I need customer service. Not because I want to listen to your list of prompts. Obviously I need assistance or I wouldn’t have called so, yes, I would like to speak to a representative. Can’t that just be prompt 1 instead of listening to 8,736 other options and then pressing zero?

I recently purchased an item online and was waiting by the door for the UPS man (who is terrified of my dog and always says “I’ll just leave it right here,” leaves it on the front porch and runs back to his truck). I opened the package full of giddy anticipation and was quickly shot through the heart when I saw that they had shipped the wrong item.

To the store I went to return the item. Apologies were made, a refund for the total including shipping was given, and since the online price was less than the in-store price I even got a raincheck. Great. Skipping some details because it’s not part of my rant I could not get the item in-store. As it turns out the item number doesn’t match the item pictured online. So how do I get the one pictured? Call customer service.

I called and was assured that they had been notified (who is ‘they’?) and the error was corrected. “Go ahead and order the item again, Ma’am.” Are you sure? Because I’m looking at it online right now and the item pictured (that I want) still has the same item number that it did before (wrong). Again, I was told that it was fine. I had my doubts about this representative and was convinced he didn’t understand my problem. I tried asking my questions several different ways and he kept telling me that if I placed a new order I would get the item pictured.

Order placed.

A week of anxiety goes by.

UPS Man!! “I’ll leave it right here for ya.”

I could not open that package fast enough. What do ya know, it’s the same stinking WRONG ITEM that they sent the FIRST time.

I’m completely convinced that the customer service representative that I talked to really had no interest in helping me. He didn’t care about my problem or it’s resolution and probably just made up the whole thing about the issue being resolved. Clearly it wasn’t. All he did was look at the same web page that I was looking at and said “yep, you’re good.” Please tell me how much you get paid because that sounds like a pretty easy job that I should consider.

They're Heeeeerrrrrreeeee!

My sister comes into town today!! She has this weird tradition where she brings each of her kids (she has 4) out to California when they turn 14. Why 14? Who knows. It’s not a milestone. I think she just had an idea to come visit our dad aka grandpa when her oldest was 14 and then it “wasn’t fair” according to each of her other children. So the tradition began.

This year her youngest son turns 14, man that makes me feel old. They fly in today and will be staying at my dad’s house for a week. Unfortunately I have to work every single day that she is here. I couldn’t afford to take any more time off since we will be going back to Michigan in 2 weeks. I’m excited for them to be here but sad that I won’t get to spend much time with them.

Enjoy Your Milk

It’s a small but significant life lesson: Enjoy your milk.

I recently attended a class at work based on the book Crucial Conversations (Kerry Patterson, et al). It seems like we always have some sort of education or training seminar to go to. Usually it’s annoying and there are never any snacks. My employer really does make a good effort, though, to make sure that the company’s standards of excellence for patient care are never compromised. This particular class was actually interesting.

It was taught by one of our staff psychologists and she was a ball of hilarity and entertainment while also informative. At one point in her presentation she drew a line on the white board with three ‘Xs’ on it. She wrote her birth day on the first one, the current date on the middle one, and a question mark on the third one. You see where I’m going with this.

Her whole point was that you have no idea what to write on that third X. It could be fifty years from now. You might have to slide it a little closer to that middle X and put tomorrow’s date on it. You just don’t know. Here’s where the profound part comes in.

One day she saw her 10 year old daughter standing in front of the fridge just staring. (The Captain does this, drives me nuts). She, like me and every other mom, griped at her “get what you want and close the door!” Her daughter replied, “I’m thinking.” Ok. Think with the door closed.

She went on to say she was thinking about the expiration date on the milk. Mom was confused because she knew that milk was still good, she just bought it. What was there to think about? But then she, at ten years old, looked at her mom and said that people should have expiration dates on their foreheads. At first this seems really morbid. Do you really want to know exactly when you’re going to die? Or when your loved ones will? “Why?” she asked her daughter. “So people can enjoy their milk.”

What would you do differently if you knew your “expiration date?” How would you treat people differently if you knew theirs? And is it a sell by date or a use by date? Does the smell test still work?

Thursday Rant: Toddler Naps

Ok. I know it’s Friday. I’m not a perfect person.

I took Mister grocery shopping which I thought was going to be a disaster. He didn’t nap until we got in the car to go to the store and he woke up as soon as we got there. Fail. Good thing there is a Starbucks right next to the commissary. Coffee for me and chocolate milk for Mister (which he rarely gets). He was so stinking happy. But he sucked it down so fast that it didn’t even last through the produce department and he was crabby again. I broke down and gave him a binkie. Sometimes you need to break your own rules in order to keep your sanity.

I was sure he would take a nap when we got home. No dice. He didn’t fall asleep again until we got back in the car to go to my parent’s house for dinner. He promptly woke up when I tried to lay him down inside.

Now, if I am overly tired I just want to take out my contacts and crawl into bed. All I want is my pillow and a maybe a blanket to curl up with. My eyes close and I’m done. Toddlers? No. The more tired they are the more they fight to sleep. Mister can take a solid 3 hour nap during the day and go to bed with ease that night. If he misses a nap I can expect bedtime to involve nuclear missile threats. I don’t get it.

Where’s my nap?

It Isn't Even Grass

We got a letter in the mail today from our property management company stating that they had done a drive by assessment of the property. They said our lawn was dry and we have two weeks to make it better. The Captain was livid. Let’s discuss this.

He called to inquire what they suggest we do about the dry lawn since we live in a near desert climate. He explained that our sprinkler system goes off automatically and regularly and we’ve used fertilizers and weed-n-feed but nothing seems to help. I’m not sure what else we can do. Their response? “Well you need to get it back to the condition it was in when you moved in.” Oh you mean thigh high weeds? He actually said that.

They offered to contact a landscaper for us, at our expense. No thanks. The Captain went on to explain that the problem isn’t that the grass is dry. It’s that we’ve tried to kill the weeds and the whole yard is weeds.

This house was trash when we moved in and the yard was literally thigh high weeds and hadn’t been taken care of in probably months. We’ve done so much to make the whole property better and all they care about is dry grass. Screw you American Heritage Properties. You want it watered more? You pay the outrageous water bill. You want new sod? You hire a landscaper. This is your house, I’m just borrowing it. If you don’t like that Southern California summers are hot, dry, and brutal on vegetation perhaps you shouldn’t rent property here.

My Universe Will Never.... So Call Me Maybe

I have radio ADD. I can’t remember when I actually listened to a whole song on the radio. Most often I hit every single one of my pre-programmed station buttons until I find one that isn’t a commercial. It doesn’t matter what the song is, I’ll leave it on if it’s got a good beat. Then I sing through a verse and a chorus and I’m over it. Back to hitting buttons.

More often than that I just hit the “scan” button and let the radio filter through every single station. And just let it scan the entire commute to work. The 8 seconds that it stays on any given station are more than enough before I get bored. Sometimes the lyrics run together as it changes from one station to the next and create amusing lines. Like those poetry magnets we all had in college, but on my radio.

I remember driving my dad to the airport years ago and my radio was scanning. He finally just lost it and said “Would you just pick a station?! Any station, I don’t care, but pick ONE!”

Since doing this while I’ve lived so close to the border I’ve picked up a little Spanish. Sea la persona que llama y la décima victoria de entradas!

Thursday Rant: PMS

It’s time for another Thursday rant. As is my nature I procrastinated and didn’t think about what I was going to rant about before today. I started of this morning as Super-Crab so I figured it would be easy enough. Pick something. Anything. This whole day was a menagerie of things that made me want to swear.

Turns out I’m really just PMSing and irritable.

I’m fine now and, looking back on my day, nothing was really as bad as my hypersensitive emotions made it all out to be. I even slept in until 7:30. That’s AMAZING. But that just couldn’t make me happy.

So, despite my constant ranting all day long, the only thing rant worthy is the PMS itself. Why does it turn us into monsters? I understand how the female body works and I think I know more about the hormones and what exactly they do each month than the average person. What I don’t know is why we become irrational lunatics for 3-5 days before our body finally says “Go! Be gone evilness!” and our period starts. In medieval times it was actually believed that the menstrual cycle was poison leaving a woman’s body and a “sinister time” in which she should be kept in solitude until she was clean.

Gee, I wonder why anyone would ever think that. I’m surprised they didn’t perform more exorcisms.

Two Year Old Socialite

It had occurred to be before and became apparent again today that I would not have a social life were it not for my child. My only friends are the people I know at work and I only see them at work. They’re great but no one wants to hang out with the lady with the baby. So when they get together to go to a baseball game or happy hour (yeah, they really do that) and weekend parties I’m not invited. I’m sure I wouldn’t be turned away if I showed up and the non-invite is not malicious. I’m just not part of that after-work crowd.

Mister has friends, though, which means I have mommy friends by default. We’ve been to two birthday parties this summer and if it weren’t for them I don’t think I would have done anything but work all summer. But the parties, although they were for two year olds, were fun for me and The Captain, too. There are so many parents and other kids there that Mister is entertained and there is always an adult with an eye on him. Birthday parties are like a break for parents (unless it’s your kid’s birthday).

The Captain and I spent three hours talking with other adults that we know and get along with. We laughed, we ate, and no one cared when we excused ourselves to change a diaper or wipe a cake filled face. Dare I say we have friends? Was this as much a social event for us as it was for Mister? Absolutely. The Captain even called me at work to ask me what to wear.

Thank you, son, for sharing your friends’ parents.

Thursday Rant: Oversized Vehicles and the Idiots That Drive Them

Parking lots have designated spaces for lots of people; handicapped, expectant mother, and where I shop colonels and generals have privileged parking as well. These people all have a reason to park closer to the front of the store and I’m ok with it.

Occasionally I come across a spot or a row that is stamped “compact.” There’s a reason for this too. Sometimes those spots are actually smaller than the surrounding spaces and sometimes the lane is just narrower and harder to navigate and back out of.

Whatever the case, get your SUV and full size truck out of my parking space. I drive a Focus. I’m allowed to park in a “compact” space. Why? Because my car FITS in a compact space. Your quad cab Silverado does not.

If you purchase a vehicle this large you have to understand that you lose out on certain privileges. Accept it. And when you know you drive a monster please pull forward at the gas pump. When you use the first pump your front end is actually blocking the pump in front of you so everyone has to wait while you take forever to fill up your 5,862 gallon tank.

Also, if you purchase said large vehicle please be able to DRIVE it. If you don’t know how to use your side mirrors and you have no depth perception you should have gotten a smart car. Backing up can be tricky. So if you have to inch out of a parking space, if you can’t tell how much room is left between your bumper and the car on the other side of the aisle, if your lack of turning radius combined with lack of brains makes you pull forward and adjust 4 times then do us all a favor. Get out of my compact space and drive yourself over to the Kia dealership.

Celebrate Failure

Two weeks down and I haven’t lost a pound. Ok, I know it’s “only” been two weeks. But when you start a brand new workout routine and your old routine was *nothing* AND you cut calories I would expect to at least lose a healthy 1-2 lbs per week. No. Exactly the same. It’s really discouraging.

Have no fear, my “personal trainer” has come up with another plan for this week. I can choose my days and length of each workout as long as by the end of the week I have completed a total of 5 hours of exercise and 1 hour of strength/toning.

Today is off to a great start. I did exactly zero hours of exercise AND had a piece of birthday cake. Did someone say fast track to skinny? Or was that fat track beginning…

Try Something New

This never intended to be a weight loss blog. It’s just a place to let my craziness collect so I don’t explode. I just wanted to blog about whatever is on my mind or going on in the world around me. But lately what’s been on my mind is diet, exercise, and the need to fit into a dress that I already bought for a wedding in 6 weeks.

My weight has always been at the forefront of my thoughts, even when I was thin. I check every nutrition label before I buy food, I choose items off a menu based on the calorie count provided (btw, I LOVE that more and more restaurants and chains are doing this. It makes life so much easier for me). It’s probably more of an obsession than it should be. And now I’ve got my fitness guru and cheering team getting me to exercise more. As a result, you get to hear about it. I’m sure my loyal few are getting sick of this topic, though, so I’m going to try something new. Let’s rant. Yeah for complaining!! Not really, but there are things that bug and irritate all of us. So I’m going to try to post every Thursday about something that I could really, really do without. I stole this idea (kind of) from another blog. So here’s my first Thursday Rant. (If you think of a more creative title than that I welcome suggestions).

Spiders.

*shudder* They really creep me out. Nothing should have more than four legs, it’s just weird. Growing up in Michigan we had daddy long legs. I will spare you a photo because I don’t want to look at it either. They were in abundance in every garage and basement but harmless. Still, eww.

Since moving to my latest location in California I have discovered a plethora of species. In.My.House. And they’re BIG and they look angry. I don’t like any kind of insect in my house and my general rule is that if you’re outside, you live. If you trespass into my home, you die. But I just can’t kill spiders. *shudder* It just gives me the heebie jeebies. The Captain is the official spider killer and I literally make him stop whatever he is doing when I find one, which is about twice a day. He’s been gone and I’ve been brave but I just can’t take it anymore.

Until recently they’ve just been annoying and causing involuntary shivers up my spine (do you think that burns calories?). Yesterday, though, Mister woke up with three bites. Not one, three. The poor little guy is so sensitive to bug bites and I feel so bad. Besides itching he swells up and gets little blisters.

So that’s it. I have to do something more than grab a shoe when I see a spider. Not only are they trespassing but now they are hurting my family. No. Not going to happen. Can you call an exterminator for spiders?

Check The Obituaries

My dear, sweet, in-way-better-shape-than-I-am best friend has come up with this week's workout plan. I got yesterday off and we're back to working out every day. This time, though, I have to commit to a full hour of exercise everyday. At first I laughed. I know she's serious, though, and I know she'll do it. The I swallowed hard and choked a little.

You see, I have next to no endurance. This is why I can never be a runner. Despite the fact that running makes me want to jam hot branding irons in my eyes, I just physically can't do it. My chest starts to hurt, my lungs burn and my eyes get blurry. When I'm done (read as 'when I quit') my legs cave from underneath me and I want to vomit. And that's only after a mile, if I make it that far.

It's day 1 of the new plan and I'm still wearing house slippers. (Yes, I have house slippers. I'm old, ok?) I need to muster up some motivation so I can move on with my day. Costco and Old Navy are calling me. I know if I shower and shop first I'll never workout because I won't want to take another shower. Plus if I wait until Mister is asleep then he can't go running to the neighbor's when I collapse.

I'm going to have to find something that is of less intensity than what I've been doing because this week might kill me.

I'd Rather Be Eating Cheesecake

I hurt. Everywhere. Every time I move it's like a different muscle I didn't know I had screams at me. Ok, maybe it's not really that bad, but I'm really really sore!

You see, my best friend likes to exercise. She likes to "feel the burn" and is a long term very faithful Jazzercise attendee. Recently she joined a gym to mix it up a bit. I joined a gym too. The difference is that she actually goes. But then she came up with this bright idea that we need to hold each other accountable. We've done this before years ago and it worked for a little while. If I weren't scared of the repercussions there is no way I would have been at the city park at 5am to jog the track. She also made me go to Jazzercise on Saturday mornings when we were living together. I had a love/hate relationship with her for that.

This time around she says we need to exercise every single day for a week. She is going to the gym every day and, since I've got Mister, I need to do whatever I can. We report back every evening. I've mostly been doing work out videos at home after Mister goes to bed. One day I plopped him in the stroller and jogged/walked 3 miles around the lake.

So for 7 days straight I have done some form of exercise to get my heart rate up and make me sweat. It's definitely more than my body is used to and absolutely would not have been accomplished if I didn't have to tell my best friend that evening. When she texts and says she went to a turbo kick class I cannot text back and tell her I sat on the couch eating oreos.

I have to admit I feel better. I'd love to lose weight but I know that even if I don't shed any significant poundage I am making my heart and overall mind and body healthier. So its good. But I'm glad the week is over. She just sent me a text and said "We did it! We'll talk about next week's plan later."

Next week?

We've Moved! Fancy That...

You got it. Since I've last posted we have picked up our family and moved. Again. Surprise! Not really. We're nomadic, it's right there in the title of the blog. Hellooo.

It was also just brought to my attention that I haven't written an entry in quite some time. There were rumors that I ran off to New Zealand to become a wild life photographer but was committed to a psychiatric hospital for depression after being forced to give up photography when my hand was bitten off by a mountain goat. (They eat everything). I want to be the first to tell you none of that is true.

Life just happens. I'm a busy mom working 2.5 jobs and I try to spend every minute I can with my precious little Mister before he gets too big for snuggles. I've made some significant changes to my life since my brain last threw up on the internet and I'd love to tell you all about it if I can sit myself down often enough to do so. To help curb your anxiety (I know you just can't stand it) here's a bullet list of things you can look forward to:

Mister's Second Birthday

New Exercise Plan

Sister Wedding!

Michigan Summers Suck

Diet What?

To recap: I am alive and well with both hands and swear to do this more often. (I said the same thing when I joined a gym. See future exercise post)