angie... unplugged

the worst blogger ever

2013-06-12T11:45:00.002-04:00

Soooo.... This last hiatus lasted a year and a half. I never could keep a diary, so I'm not making any promises on how long this current blogging stint is going to last. I mean, for the four of you that used to care. But, I'm back for now!

I left up a few of my old posts for giggles. I read back through them fondly, until I realized how amateur my writing style was back then. Gosh y'all, I have really grown as a writer in the last year. Not from practicing or anything... but clearly my thought processes have matured.

I'm totally kidding. Please don't expect anything different.

So, let's see here. Quickie catch-up:

My kids are still awesome - but bigger, smarter, and far more menacing.
I fell crazy in love and am now engaged (woohooooo - party coming soon!)
I left corporate America and got a tattoo.
People told me I was good at planning parties and taking pictures, so I figured I'd start a business.
I completely figured out how to live in the present.
I stopped drinking Diet Coke all the time, Crystal Light is my new crack.

I mean, seriously. You gotta admit that was a pretty big year. There was no time for blogging. Alas, things have calmed down and here I am.

Honestly, I just wanted an excuse to buy my domain back. So here we go... Again. :)

XO,
ab

valentine woes - part 2

2012-02-13T11:54:00.001-05:00

Welp - we have the answer to Blake's anxiety about Valentine's Day. He's in love. Monica told me so.

They were already loaded up in the car this morning and when I got in, it all unfolded.

Monica: Guess what, Mommy?!? Blake just said he has a girlfriend! And she's in his class!
Blake: Giggles, hides face with hands.
Me: Buddy, is that true? Clearly. The kid can't stop laughing now.
Blake: Mon-i-caaaaaaa, why'd you say that?
Me: That's awesome, Blake! Is she pretty? Is she smart? Is she funny?
Blake: Hysterical laughter with each question, but nodding yes through them all.
Me: Does she know she's your girlfriend?
Blake: Yes, but she doesn't like me. I'm not her boyfriend.
Me: Oh.
Monica: That's because she's SIX! An older WOMAN!
Me: Oh.

That's all I had. I'm not really sure how this part works. So I tried (unsuccessfully) to guess some of the girls' names that I remember from his class on the way to school. As we were approaching, he got nervous again. "Mommy, can you please stop talking about this now?" he whispered. "Blake, no one can hear me while we're in the car," I whispered back. Nonetheless, I dropped it. God forbid one of the fifth-graders that opens the car door for them to get out at the curb hears the tail-end of our conversation.

On the rest of my commute, it all started coming together. About two weeks ago, Blake started caring what he wore to school. I've been lucky to be able to dress him as long as I have, but now he's getting picky. No collared shirts, nothing with "dinosaurs or bears or anything babyish" on it - he only wants skull and crossbone stuff. Which is leading me to believe he's in love with an emo kindergartener, which is slightly disturbing. But we're going to roll with it. Surely it's just a phase.

Famous last words.

valentine woes

2012-02-10T14:24:00.002-05:00

Check out these fantastic crayon hearts the kids and I made to add to their Valentine cards at school this year! Aren't those super cute? We really had a blast chopping up crayons and (not-so) patiently waiting on them to completely melt in the oven.

Monica was thrilled and has some fantastic ideas about how to make her own cards instead of using store-bought character crap. I would tell you what they are, but got lost in all the details. I remember hearing things like 'special paper, buttons, beads, hot glue...' - it's going to be a pretty big project. Blake... not so much.

Me: Buddy, won't these be cool to give to all your friends in class for Valentine's Day? We can give them a little notebook, maybe some candy...

Blake: No.

Me: Wait, what? But we just made all these hearts!

Blake: Yeah, soooo - I don't really want to go to school on Valentimes Day.

Me: Whyyyyyy? All of your friends are going to be giving you cards and you'll give them one. That's the way it works now, it's completely fair. Monica, back me up here - isn't Valentine's Day fun?

Monica: Oh yes. And this year, the boys that give me the best cards are the ones I'm going to chase for the rest of the school year! It's probably going to be Thomas, and Connor, and...

Me: Okay, baby. That's a whole 'nother problem entirely. Blake, you will go to school on V-day and you're going to love it! Tell you what, I'll pick up some superhero cards for you to give out so you don't have to do heart stuff, is that better?

Blake: Ummm, I guess. But I'm still not going.

This continued for as long as I could stand it, and he still wasn't convinced. I remember overthinking Valentine's as a youngster - Who's going to give me one? Is mine good enough? Please God, I'll use my best handwriting forever if I get the most! In contrast, Blake's anxiety is really stemming from the fact that he doesn't know what to expect, it's not the real fear that we had growing up.

Anyway... There really aren't any surprises here since we know he'll be coming home with exactly 26 Valentines. But I hope he treasures each one of 'em... and that mine is the best. :)

the swagger-wagon is dying.

2012-01-22T20:41:00.002-05:00

Seriously, this breaks my heart a little. And then I remember it's a Pacifica and I'm okay again.

We do have some great (and sometimes slightly horrifying) memories though. The time we hit the recliner... the big cement post... the neighbor. Kid vomit, dog vomit, and an exploding can of Cherry Coke Zero. The list goes on. I can't even explain the alleged blood spatter stains on the driver side floorboard because we've been through so much. So you see? There's a lot of history here.

And then the check engine light came on last week and our friendship ended pretty abruptly. This quickly escalated to pure hatred when the thing started idling at an uncomfortably low rate at stoplights and making sounds under the hood that remind me of dial-up days. In fact, if you ever get to hear this noise you too will find yourself waiting for the old AOL voice saying "you've got mail". But it doesn't do that. I've listened closely. Plus, that would be kinda weird.... and awesome.

So I guess the search is on. I'd like to find something that doesn't cost as much as a small house, but I live in SC so that's narrowing the scope quite a bit. Nah, I'm just kidding. If it's shiny I'll probably like it.

Get well soon, swagger-wagon.

school days are back. sanity preserved.

2011-08-22T16:45:00.008-04:00

Well, I'm not gonna lie. It was a nice break. But I had almost forgotten how relaxing it is to just sit here and write. And while I feel like I should catch all four of you up on everything that has happened in the last two weeks, I think the topic of the day will be the most important from the break... the first day of school.

Ok, well - technically that starts the day before the first day of school. This is when we said our goodbyes to Michelle, our "other mother" who has kept the kids since they were born. This was tough. Granted, she lives only fifteen minutes away so we will still see her regularly I'm sure, but she has been an important part of our family. In those final moments, as we all stood outside, Monica released one of the Mylar balloons that Aunt Chelle was sending home with us.

"Monica, why did you do that?" I questioned, feeling that parental guilt of my child wasting someone else's money.

"I did it for love."

She said this with a peculiar (albeit over-the-top) sweetness and Michelle confessed that it was the little things like that that she would miss the most. I nodded in agreement. Monica, always eager to be part of adult conversations interrupted the moment of silence, "I knowwwww, you're gonna miss the little drama queen!"

So we all stood in the yard until the balloon was completely out of sight (this takes a while, by the way), gave all of our hugs and kisses and left - bound for the next big adventure.

Here was our video tribute for Michelle. I jacked as many pictures as I could from her Facebook albums and scoured my photo boxes for all of those she printed for me over the years. Mixed in with a few of our own memories, I hope this will always be a reminder of how much we love her!! (And ps - in real life it looks so much better than this... I'm so over trying to load videos to Blogger!!)

Well, as it turned out, we were bound for home, but you get the idea. This was a big school start this year since Blake would enter K5 and Monica would start first grade (or "real school" as she's been referring to it all summer). After bath time and a major fashion meltdown that evening, I tucked them in, said their prayers and then headed downstairs to say a few of my own with a cheap bottle of wine. I still can not believe that my babies are both in school.

The next morning I started at 5:30am. I wanted everything to be seamless and easy, nothing like the normal morning routine and this would give me an hour before they had to get up. Before I could finish getting myself ready, Blake strolled downstairs, dressed and ready with his hair already slicked into place and sat at the kitchen island. It was 6:04am.

"Well, hey buddy! Good morning! Are you ready? Are you excited?"

"Yes, ma'am," he answered sheepishly, nerves obviously starting to creep up on him.

He told me Monica was still sleeping and just sat there silently, watching me start breakfast. This kid is never quiet. So I asked what he wanted to eat, offering the grits and eggs, waffles, cereal, PopTarts, you name it... Nothing. He shook his head in refusal to everything I said, stating that his tummy "didn't feel too dood" and settled for a handful of grapes. Oh, my poor baby. I wanted to be able to take that nervousness away from him, I wanted to show him that everything was going to be just fine - but I guess it's these moments that shape who we are in the world.

When I went upstairs to get Monica, she awoke with a start. "Finally! Mommy, I kept waking up all night thinking - Is it morning YET? But no, it'd still be dark! Finally!! It's the FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL!!!"

Being the super-experienced school-goer, Monica hopped up and got ready fast. Scarfing down breakfast wasn't a problem for her and she was ready to go. I overestimated the time we would need, so we reviewed backpacks and lunch boxes before Brad picked us up.

When we got to the school, I really expected Blake to have a hard time. Then we walk him into his room and there are two kids crying. GREAT. That's really gonna help, I think to myself. But he doesn't feed off of them and sits down with a nervous grin that you wouldn't be able to wipe off that child's face. I tried to introduce myself and Blake to some of his tablemates, but apparently kindergartners don't feel much like talking on their first day.

There was a paper on his desk, and I suggested he write his name at the top. Blake grabbed a red crayon from the box beside him and, hands shaking, started making an "M". Brad leaned down and whispered that he probably should write his own name - and not Monica's - on the paper.

Freakin' precious. (You can click on the picture to see it up close!)

He looked up, still grinning and hurriedly scratched out his mistake. When we left him, I expected a little bit of a fight, but he was such a big boy. So scared but not for a second wanting anyone to see it.

Taking Monica to class was much easier on my emotions. She very naturally sat right down like she owned the place, but was still very shy. I noticed that as full of life as she is, it can take her a while to warm up to new people, and she is reluctant to be the first one to speak. I would have done the introductions like I did in Blake's room, but she had already informed me that I shouldn't do anything that could embarrass her.

So I stood ACROSS the classroom and took my pictures instead of right by her desk. I'm such a cool mom.

She was anxious for Brad and I to leave, but very willingly gave us the hugs and kisses goodbye. Thank God. I mean, she's not too big for that, right?

As we walked out of the school, I had expected to be upset. I watched as some of the other mothers wiped their eyes with the backs of their hands, one even sobbing on her way out the door. Not me. It was emotional, definitely, but I didn't feel like I was losing anything. Sure, I realize the baby days are over. But I am so proud of who Monica and Blake are and am so excited about the new adventures we will tackle together.

Well, after we get a little rest. That was a long day.

As Pete the Cat would say, "It's all good."

blake's big adventure

2011-08-05T22:50:00.001-04:00

At least, you would think he was going on a big adventure from his fifteen pound duffel bag. Blake was so excited about spending the night with our sitter and friend, Aunt 'Chelle, that he started packing two weeks ago. You will never meet a more prepared five year old. Ever.

Each night this week, he checked and rechecked his bag, making sure he had everything he could possibly need. Here's what he thought was most important for his visit... keep in mind he wasn't staying through winter, just overnight...

One complete (and expertly matched) change of clothes
With an extra pair of boxer-briefs
Winter flannel pajamas
A hoodie (surely needed for those cool 89 degree SC summer nights)
His robe
Three books
Two toothbrushes
Six little dental floss sticks (this kid's gonna have the cleanest teeth in town)
An assortment of small toys
The bunny from his Easter basket
A baby blanket
Approximately 6,000 silly bands
And a water bottle - already filled

You know that question, "if you were stuck on a deserted island and could only have three things, what would they be?" Well, you may want to consider taking Blake since he'll already have everything else.

i love school supplies (even more than my kids)

2011-08-01T21:57:00.002-04:00

Hold on. Let me clarify. I love my kids more than school supplies... I just like the supply-shopping part more than they do.

I meeeeeaaaannnn - It is OFFICIALLY Back-to-School time in the retail world and I am just giddy with excitement!

Ahhhh... The smell of the little pointy pink erasers, new vinyl binders that'll pinch the skin off your fingers and even Elmer's glue. It's like heaven in your nostrils.

Wait, not glue sniffing - that's bad...

But the smell of it takes me back twenty years. I was that kid. The one that actually liked going back to school and prepared for weeks in advance... modeling every possible combination of new clothes until I found the *perfect* first day outfit, hot gluing feathers to pen tops, and very meticulously labeling my folder dividers. Yeah, it was atrocious. And I still get that excited. Every. Single. Year.

I've been looking forward to both of my kids being in school ~~so I could have a legitimate excuse to do this shopping again~~, ahem, because this is such an exciting time in their little lives. So I picked up the list from school today and being efficient, decided to tackle it without the kids. It was OMGsomuchfun. My addiction to office supply stores is no real secret, but they don't have much super cute stuff like this I Rule notebook from Target. (Ok, that's for me... but Monica would proudly carry it into first grade if I'd let her.)

While picking up their crayons and glue sticks, I figured it was best to restock my Post-It and Zebra F-301 pen collection. It's not like these things ever go on sale any other time, and I consider them necessities. Like toilet paper. Only fun.

Oh, and you wanna know a little secret? The absolute best thing about Back-to-School fever comes after all of the college kids are back on campus because that's when the big box stores put all their "dorm gear" on clearance. And while I have no need for a futon (um, ever), I DO love all of the colorful storage solutions meant for small spaces. And it's the only time of year I can find my hot pink hangers in abundance. I am seriously having a hard time containing my excitement about this. Weird, maybe - but you don't know how hard it is to find pink hangers for grown-up clothes! Finally!

(Yes, this is my closet pictured. And yes, the hangers are pretty close to evenly spaced. You don't have to say anything. I know.)

my kids are gremlins.

2011-07-26T21:54:00.005-04:00

Seriously. They are. Except they probably won't explode in the microwave.

But I'm pretty sure I see razor-sharp teeth and claws coming out when I say no to the most popular question in our house, "Can we have a snack?"

Monica and Blake usually get one afternoon snack and one evening snack, but then there are Saturdays. And Sundays. And Whatever days. So in an effort to regain control of this never-ending question and my whatever moments, I am going to resume my role as the Snack Nazi for the last few weeks before school is back in session.

The snack bins in our pantry have helped keep some order. This guy holds the fruity stuff, but you may have figured that out from the "Fruity" tag. (Told you I have a label problem.) In here you'll find fruit cups(!), applesauce, fruit gummies, etc... And the bins to the left and right that you are getting a tiny glimpse of are Salty and Sweet. Guess what's in them.

Alas, we now have portion-controlled organized snacks. This requires very little extra effort, but a LOT of baggies. While I still buy the bulk snack-size treats occasionally (lovelovelove the 100 calorie packs), we end up with a bigger selection when we bag 'em ourselves. This only takes ten minutes after each grocery trip. Not a big deal.

Yeah, people pick on these too. My house is just a regular bucket of laughs. But they ALL peek through the bins and find a treat. Never fails. Every time someone opens the pantry for the first time, they make some little "you gotta be kidding me" remark and then have a snack. Organization haters.

weekend project

2011-07-24T10:51:00.000-04:00

Okay, okayyyy. I'm not sure who I'm trying to kid. This was more like a two-week project. But only because things like the super-awesome magazine rack stole my attention. I'm like a bird with shiny things.

When I started working on my new kitchen chalkboard, my intent was to build a frame. But then I found this one at a community thrift store for $3. What. A. Deal. And thank goodness. I love my power tools, but I have never loved geometry. And I'm pretty sure cutting angles = using some geometry = not my cup of tea.

So I measured, taped, and painted my big, black square with chalkboard paint. This was the boring part. Then I set out three little Gladware containers filled with different shades of aqua, some brown glazing paint, and only one paintbrush to work on the frame transformation.

You may be wondering why I emphasized the one paintbrush. Ummm... if you don't already know me, I should explain here that I'm a little bit OCD'ish. Okay, alotabit OCD'ish. Mixing colors would be like mixing foods - and I don't do either.

So, back to the project.... As it turns out, you really can't mess this up. But I put on classical music and delivered brush strokes like an artist extraordinaire because it felt like the right thing to do. I know what you're thinking... "Really, for a frame? A Three-Dollar frame?" It's okay, I thought that too, but I was gonna make this a real masterpiece. It definitely looked like I was preparing for my magnum opus, but that's kinda how I roll. Go big or go home.

Glazing was the best part hands down. Just brush it on, wipe it off, and wala - instantly aged. I may be a little addicted to this stuff. I can't even bring myself to put it away. It's sitting in a baggie on the kitchen table waiting on me to add years of wear to the rest of the house.

Alright, so here's the almost finished product. I'm still looking for the perfect little hooks or a curtain rod to mount underneath it to hold buckets of chalk. Haven't quite figured that part out yet.

Isn't that cute-sy how I wrote the word 'inspired' on there? I thought so. Because I am. And I hope you feel a little bit of it too. :)

the paleo diet

2011-07-21T16:26:00.002-04:00

Let me go ahead and put my disclaimer out first... I am NOT dieting. Mom, I know you're gonna read this and just remember - this is a lifestyle change, not a diet. (I had to put lifestyle change in italics because I'm not a fan of that term and say it with a touch of sarcasm in real life.) Ok, now - let's talk paleo.

Wait, hold on, one more disclaimer. I'm going to be breaking the #1 Rule of Womanhood by discussing weight in actual numbers. If this frightens you or makes you want to leave mean comments, you may want to stop here and come back tomorrow.

Ok, now...

So I started the paleo kick a couple of months ago when my immune system decided to hate me. I read, researched and planned for a month to prepare and then went to all of the super-expensive whole food markets to get the necessary staples since, unfortunately, Publix doesn't sell almond flour. (Why, Publix, whyyyyy???)

But then I had to forego all of the planning and snack lists because I had lost too much weight.

Don't hate me. No, really, don't - it wasn't a good thing at all - I was down to 105 pounds and my 5'7" frame couldn't afford to lose the additional weight that this lifestyle was guaranteed to take away. (If you need a few more reasons not to hate me, read the skinny girl post.)

So I spent several weeks trying to fatten up a little bit and managed to gain some of it back. By the way, this was FUN. While I never really had much of an appetite, I found out you don't need one to love a Twix ice cream bar in the summer. Anyway, it didn't help much because something happened and I'm back down to 109. Grrrrrr. But to top that off, I feel pretty crappy and have to think eating all this sinful food is playing a role.

This is where the paleo comes in. I've seen a number of articles referencing the elimination of food groups for autoimmune disease relief and this just seems like the best way to go. The concept is to eat like a caveman (read: no processed junk) though I'll keep my utensils, thankyouverymuch. So, I'll be eating only meat, fish, veggies, fruits and nuts. This means no grains, legumes, dairy, salt, sugar or processed oils. And definitely nothing from Krispy Kreme.

I know, holy smokes.

Most of the foods I love are a carnal sin on this plan. Cheese, bread, cheesy bread... not happenin'. Oh, and lest we forget cheeseCAKE. The best combination of everything bad that the paleo people run from in fear while pulling their hair out of their perfectly perfect follicles. Yeah, I never said it would be easy.

This chart lays out the differences between my new paleo life and my life now. Only the blue area should ~~definitely~~ probably be bigger. See - you didn't know you would actually learn stuff here, did you? You're welcome.
(Source: European Journal of Clinical Nutrition 1997)

So I think I'm going to start tomorrow. This should be quite the endeavor since I have the kids this weekend and like to stress-eat when they start making lots of noise. I guess I'll pop in some headphones and take in an audio book or four while they run around like banshees inside because it's 450 degrees outside. Oh, that reminds me, I need to make sure wine is on the good list. If it's not, I'm going to pretend it is anyway - you know, for heart health. ;)

the toilet intercom

2011-07-06T23:07:00.006-04:00

We discovered this morning that Monica has a little ear infection. As much as I hate my babies feeling bad, I think I may hate giving them medicine even more... so we don't do 'sick' well. After years of fighting them, I am now completely okay with bribery to get the job done. Pathetic I know, but nobody likes to fight with a sick kid.

Monica takes instructions from authority figures very seriously and paid close attention as the nurse told her to drink lots of fluids and not lay flat to sleep. When I went upstairs tonight to tuck them in, I found her propped up like Cleopatra with four pillows behind her and one underneath, a bottle of water on the nightstand and she had pulled a fan right beside her, blowing her hair very movie-star-ish-ly across her pillows. The scene would have been perfect if Blake was attentively feeding her grapes, but he was too busy trying to do handstands in his underwear.

Queen Monica: "Mommy, I'm too worried to sleep. What if I roll on the wrong side and my ear starts hurting again? Then I'll start crying and it'll hurt even more, and then I'll cry more cause it hurts worse! I have to stay up all night. Can I go downstairs?"

"Niiiiiice one! That's was a really good try, but no - you're going to bed. But listen, if you wake up because your ear is bothering you just call me and I'll come right up, okay? But right now you have to get rest. That's when your body heals, remember?"

Our pediatrician told Monica and Blake that about two years ago and she never fails to bring it up when someone is sick. I figured his advice would be taken more seriously than my own... This proved to be correct as she reluctantly agreed. I looked over at Blake, who was now laying in her bed and staring at me intently. Then I could almost physically see the light bulb click over his head. His eyes lit up, his mouth curved into a smile and he practically shouted, "Monita! I got it! I'll sleep wit you tonight and if you start hurtin', I'll go to the toilet!"

Ummm....Huh?

Noticing our bewilderment, he continued, "Betause Mommy has a toilet in her baffroom and in the hall, so if I call her through the toilet, she will deffitly hear me better. She'll hear me through the toilets!!! Den you can stay in the bed since your ear hurts and all."

That kid cracks me up. He was working so hard on a solution to help his big sister and what he came up with is a toilet intercom. I love it. And you never know, it just... might... work.

Image from here

from the skinny girl

2011-07-05T00:07:00.009-04:00

Guess what? Skinny girls have troubles too.

Yeah, I said it. Because although I gratefully accept the nice-nasty compliments of strangers that are marked with a tone of contempt, they make me want to scream... loudly.

This all started today when a lady stopped me at CVS after dropping off my prescription and said she wanted to give me something. I figured it was a Jesus brochure (since apparently I have that look, I get those all the time). Anyway, she hands me a small booklet, creepily covers my hand with hers and says "it's okay". Ummm... yeah, it is, I think... I was just picking up my blond-hair-dark-tan-miracle pills.

As she walked away, I glanced down at my gift. It was information about eating disorders. Ugh. I felt guilty for getting so aggravated, she clearly had a cause to promote (why else would she have info packets in her purse?), but she doesn't know me. She probably would have scheduled an in-store intervention with the staff and any customers if she had seen me a month ago. Thankfully, I've gained back about eight of the fifteen pounds that I've lost since this Sjogren's flare-up began, so I was safe.

I do appreciate her concern, it's really the people who feel obligated to make snide remarks that are supposed to sound kind that are the worst. Yes, I have small bones. Yes, I can buy clothes in the little girls' section if so inclined. Yes, I am good at hide-and-seek because I can fit in tight spaces. Awesome benefits, I know, but skinny girls have their share of troubles too, like:

being shaped like a pre-pubescent boy is not cool off the runway
big purses always look awkward
there is always a bobble-head effect to consider when wearing "skinny" clothes
strangers who are career dieters usually hate you for no valid reason
it is incredibly difficult to find nice clothes that fit right off the rack (this is the worst!)

So please, spread the word. The grass may be a little leaner, but it isn't always greener.

Image from here

redbank, sc

2011-06-29T08:35:00.005-04:00

It's taken me five years to be okay with saying that I live in Redbank. And technically I don't. But it's right down the road and when people ask where we live, it is the only thing I can say that is recognizable. When I first relocated to this former chicken farm country I didn't know anything about this community and promptly decided that I wanted to incorporate the town and rename it White Knoll (after the local high school). Honestly, sometimes I still think about making the proposition at a county council meeting.

Shortly after we moved here, I was traveling down highway 6 and saw the 'Deal or No Deal' crew bus pulled over on the side of the road taking pictures of an abandoned trailer that welcomed people to our community. This was kind of a big deal. Not that Howie Mandel was aboard, but I'm pretty sure the closest thing to a celebrity that's ever been out to this part of the country is the county sheriff. I pulled over right behind them and introduced myself.

"Hey guys, welcome to South Carolina! Hey, you aren't gonna post these pictures anywhere, are you? I mean, I know it's pretty funny, but it really doesn't look good for us."

"Nah, we aren't going to that, but is this the Rednexington that we've heard about?"

Geez. Someone had already told them our nickname. Granted, this title covers a pretty large part of Lexington county, but I'm pretty sure most of the locals view Redbank as the capital of Rednexington. We have more mullets per capita than all of 1992. I talked to these guys for a few minutes and they were really quite nice (for the Hollywood type). They told me some about some of the people they had met in their journey across America and that the nicest folks seemed to be from these small towns.

They were right. Like I said before, it's taken five years to get to this point, but I love this little town. Yeah, there are probably a few meth-lab trailer parks tucked away and there's no guarantee people you meet will have all of their teeth, but almost everyone you encounter is kind-hearted. These are the folks that will always offer a hand if they see you pulled over on the side of the road and hold the door for you at the local Citgo. Block parties are a normal summer activity and the local church puts on a thousand activities for families each year, complete with movies projected on a parked white eighteen-wheeler in an open field.

I had my house for sale not long ago and decided to pull it off the market. Initially, it was because I love the schools here and just wanted a solid foundation for the kids, but now I want them to grow up here. It may be a slower pace of life, but that's not a bad thing. At all. Heck, it may not even stay small forever - everyone here will tell you things really started to change when Wal-Mart came to town and the trailer pictured above was demolished. But hey, that's what always happens, isn't it? Welcome to Redbank.

an essay

2011-06-27T01:49:00.008-04:00

This is gonna be the longest post ever... I'm thinking about submitting an article for a contest that poses the questions 'when did you understand the meaning of love?'. What follows is a very rough draft and will be edited no less than a katrillion times. Heck, it may even be completely rewritten, but this realization happened for me very recently so I wanted to get it on paper... Before I forget. :)

Most people find their understanding of love in a very specific special event… marriage, childbirth, and sometimes in a horribly ironic twist, after the loss of a loved one or other tragedy. Me? I found the meaning of love while sweeping the kitchen floor.

Yep. While performing a seemingly meaningless late-night household chore, I unearthed one of the most important discoveries of my life. It may have even started while I was wiping down the counters… though I can’t be sure.

As I cleaned, I was busy thinking about the annual Mid-Year-Resolution list I had just started in preparation for my July 1st fresh start. (I avoid the traditional New Year’s Resolutions opting to reflect on the first half of the year and then decide what needs to change…) There wasn’t much of a list at that point, just Resolution #1: Eliminate toxic people and foster good relationships. This resulted in removing nearly 300 people from Facebook (oh, the horror!) and really thinking about the folks that are pillars in my life.

My mom and dad were the first to come to mind. I am fortunate to have had a happy childhood, and it was the thankless tasks in everyday life that made that possible. They worked hard and taught my brother and me to do the same. They raised us well, even when we tried to give them a run for their money.

Growing up I got used to hearing, “One day when you’re a mother, you’ll understand”. I heard this when I had an earlier curfew than my friends, when all of my boyfriends were practically interrogated, and even when I looked at the tears in my mother’s eyes on the closing night of my last school play. Hearing this often resulted in an unobserved eye-roll and a confident sigh that I would be soooo much cooler if I ever had kids.

And then I did.

Since Monica and Blake are only eighteen months apart, the first couple of years were a whirlwind of late nights, smelly diapers and Little Einstein DVDs. But now that they are becoming a little more independent (and before the rush of extracurricular activities and social events begin) I can fully appreciate that they are my purpose.

It’s funny, people have accused me of being unemotional at times, and well, they can be right. But then there are those moments - when I see one of my kids perform a random act of kindness, excel at a new task, get their feelings hurt, or even tell a knock-knock joke for the millionth time - and I can feel the emotions completely take over my entire body. Pride, joy, empathy, fear, gratitude, optimism and being in complete awe are par for the course as a mom.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve loved them since the day they were born, but it was this day – as I collected cupcake crumbs and beads of Play-Doh – that I realized I would give my life in a second to protect theirs, that I will do anything I can to make sure they grow up to be good people, and that when they hurt – I hurt a thousand times more.

Earlier that day, I listened as my five-year-old stood up to his big sister, who up until that very moment had been his

unofficial spokesperson.

“Monica, you don’t have to say us when you talk, you can just say you!”

And while my heart almost exploded with pride that my son was finding his voice, there was this little twinge of sadness that they are growing up entirely too fast. Thankfully, Blake eased this sensation as I was putting him to bed later that night and he asked if I would rock him because it had been “too long, like maybe years” since I had.

This was fresh in my mind as I started my evening tidy-up rituals, and opened the floodgates for a thousand other memories from my childhood through the transition into motherhood that played like something from a film festival in my head. And though there was that normal sense of exasperation as I pushed what felt like half of the sandbox into the dustpan, I had to smile. These were the remnants of Monica spending the previous weekend trying to dig a hole to the devil. While this may invoke concern in some parents, I flashed back more than twenty years when my best friend and I tried to do the exact same thing behind the swing set on our kindergarten playground. Of course, we stopped when we thought we were getting too close to fire as we dug through the soil and reached a level of red clay. To see my daughter with the same quest for knowledge and understanding is thrilling… And terrifying. But mostly thrilling.

Since I was a kid, anytime I have done anything worth mentioning, I would run to my parents and say, “Guess what? I am soooo proud of myself!” This would be followed by an endless ramble of my latest accomplishment only ending when they stopped me to validate my feelings and tell me they were even more proud than I was. And while I still call them to voice my most fulfilling moments, many of them revolve around my own kids. I suppose Mom was right, and after having children I did begin to understand. I have always loved my family and friends, but my kids have allowed me to define what that means and understand what a profound impact love has had on my life.

Since a mother’s work is never done, maybe I’ll find the rest of life’s secrets while doing my after-bedtime housework. Who knows? I might be one bottle of 409 away from solving all of the world’s problems. Right now, I’m just grateful that I can tell my kids, “One day, when you’re a mom/dad, you’ll understand.”

Image from here

generations

2011-06-14T22:06:00.003-04:00

It's moments like these that stay in the memory bank forever. I can imagine being super old one day, and as I go to take my teeth out, having a flashback of this very image.

Blake is the undisputed King of Connect 4. Nobody wants to play with him anymore because he always wins. I think Dad questioned my own Connect 4 skills when I explained this to him and he agreed to take on the challenge of playing little Bobby Fisher here.

Game after game, we'd hear Blake say, "I wouldn't do dat if I were youuuuu!"

And then, "Papa, if you go there, then I'm gonna go here, then you'll have to go there, and I'm still gonna beat you!"

The kid might just be a genius. He plots out the whole game while you're just working on connecting two. And somewhere in there, he still has time to stack his chips in an orderly fashion as shown above (he is my kid after all).

The final count was 7-4 in Blake's favor, and Dad's expression after being beat by a five-year-old was priceless. Here's a man that loves games of strategy - chess, 9-ball, snooker... and now Connect 4. Attach to that the fact that Blake insisted on wearing footed fleece pajamas and looked just like little Randy from "A Christmas Story" and this picture really is worth a thousand words.

We'll be starting chess lessons soon. And maybe 9-ball too.

summer days

2011-06-11T22:40:00.006-04:00

Summer is wonderful. Cookouts... Fireworks... Later bedtimes... and Floaties.

Remember the plastic arm muscles that would rub your biceps completely raw on swimming days, but it didn't matter because it was sooooooo worth it? Yeah, well now they're a LOT better since some genius decided to cover them in fabric. Gah, we were so much tougher when we were kids.

I'm taking the kids to Ansley's in a bit to go swimming and they are ecstatic. And worried.

"Do I have to wear floaties? Please say I don't because those are for babies and I can swim pretty good. Well, under the water - over the water isn't as easy," explained sweet Monica.

Then Blake, "Well, I like floaties. They give me the biddest muscles in the whole wide world. I'm the Incredible Hoke. But I need a new bathing suit because I left my cool skull one at G's and I'm not wearing the monkey one - that's for babies."

I have to note here that earlier this week, when in a pool with nine other kids, Blake was a little intimidated by all of the splashing so he had on his goggles, floaties, a tube around his waist and was sitting on a float. I wish there was a picture of this... He is probably the most cautious five-year-old boy in the history of the world.

So, we're off to Target to pick up Blake a "rockstar-ish" swimsuit before heading over. And some floaties.
Image from here