Restless Blog

Princesses or No Princesses, that is the Question

noreply@blogger.com (Restless Ink) — Thu, 01 Jan 2015 20:18:00 +0000

So here I am, in school yet AGAIN. This time it is FULL TIME which I haven't done THAT for over a decade. It's overwhelming to say the least.

It's been soooooooooooooooooooooooooo loooooooooooooooooong yet again, writing on here. But now that I'm back in school, I'm thinking I had better get back in the practice of writing since it seems that I have a paper due WEEKLY IN EVERY friggin' class! Crazy. I guess that's why it's called "accelerated". Damn.

Jumping to to the point of this post, I am USING you (all ....one...actually...anyone?) of you & this post in particular to sort out my thoughts on my paper for my Government class. I am exploring the concept of Barbies, Disney Princesses, & other dolls that set unrealistic, unattainable images for our girls. This topic of course has been beaten to death & quite frankly, I oscillate between how mind blowing it is & "who cares". Let 'em play with whatever & feeling exhausted by the need for being politically-correct & being careful about EVERYthing. Motherhood has change a LOT. Before being a mom, I frowned upon pacifiers. Cut to a year into painful nursing for 11 months & not only tricking my daughter into using one, but literally enabling her addiction to her "Fire" for 3 years thereafter. Not proud of it, but being a mom changes everything as you know.

Not sure exactly when it happen, but our first went from crawling to being OBSESSED with Disney Princesses (along with the rest of the world). Wearing princess type dresses, watching Bella being swept away by her Prince...wearing Princess HIGH HEELS (that was a hard one. I actually hid the plastic heels in the closet in dreaded fear of my 3 year old turning into a high-heel wearing toddler. The horror). As I have realized throughout the past 8 years, it is impossible to keep up with the speed of your developing children, what they want in contrast to what you want FOR them & feel is "right". Man. And I know it's just the beginning. *sigh*

Anyway, as much as it bothered me, she grew out of it. I look back & wanna tell myself to relax. It's no big deal. BUT, I will say that I think it is absolutely ridiculous that we are teaching our girls unrealistic & unattainable goals with all this stuff. A Prince solving all your problems with a Happily Ever After? We all know that's a load of crap. But what are we suppose to do? Be socially conscious in everything we do by saying "no" to & giving back the Ariel Princess dress your daughter got for her birthday? What IS the answer? Picket outside Mattel factory & burn all dolls?

I'm suppose to take a stance either way on the "controversial" subject we have picked to do our paper on. Well, the problem is, I don't know. I don't know what the answer is. And writing this, I'm realizing is only confusing me more!:-/

I suppose my stance could be in an ideal world, Disney Princesses would be real life representations of women that were independent, strong & not needing a Prince Charming. They worked, are mothers with real bodies & flawed skin. But frankly, that would be weird. Like this "Realistic Barbie": https://uk.lifestyle.yahoo.com/blogs/icymi/new-realistic--barbie--has-cellulite--spots--scars-%E2%80%93-but-what-s-the-point-152914011.html

The beauty (pun intended) of dolls IS the perfect skin, perfect features, perfect lives. Right? So then I'm back to "who cares". They are toys. Let girls be girls & play pretend. Really, in the end, it is what they are taught throughout their development that will have the most influence on their personal body image & who they want to be.

So really, I haven't gotten anywhere. Maybe I need to find a new subject? *sigh*

Painting is a blind man's profession

noreply@blogger.com (Restless Ink) — Sun, 13 Jul 2014 05:32:00 +0000

I know I owe you....me, a continuation of my last post, but I have something else I'm excited to tell you...me, about!

O.K., so I graduated from the University of Kansas with a Bachelor's of Fine Arts about 15 years ago. Previous to my art training, I had been drawing & in the arts - ever since I can remember really. But, since I had finished my degree, it has been a struggle to get back into "real" art. I say "real" art, because I do do graphic design, but got into it only to have a "real" career. My true roots are your basic pencil & paper!

Anyway, so I don't want to get into "why" it's been so difficult to get back to it. That subject deserves a whole 'nother post if not book! Art school basically f*cked it up for me. It really did. And I still find it extremely challenging to do it.

BUT, finally, I've had a drive, which I think most artists have, to just DRAW or paint. It may sound corny, but it's almost like I feel like "God's Instrument" or something like that. I know, so cheesy. But for real! I feel like a power beyond me needs to channel it's energy through me onto canvas, paper, the floor, whatever. It's what makes us (art people) crazy. At least partially.

So, a couple of weeks ago, instead of making a big to do about it, I just got my sketchbook, a mirror, dug up some old charcoal & went for it. The result was this:

I don't love it. I don't hate it. I'm just happy that I got started. FINALLY.

Now that I got started though, will I continue? I suppose only I can answer that. Only I can prove to myself that I will continue.

So, this past week, one of my goals was to do 1 drawing a day. The trouble is, which I remember having in the past, was WTF to draw?!? I am sorta snobby about drawing only from real life. So, real life objects, especially when you're a stay-at-home-mom, can be pretty boring. Except for yourself. Which is why I was and still am drawn to self-portraiture. I find artists' portraits fascinating.

In spite of the fact that I would like to do more self portraits, drawing one daily is not something I really want to do. So again, what to draw, what to draw...

Then a couple days back, again, without putting much thought into it, I picked up my sketchbook & pencil & began drawing a small statue of a mother & child sitting on the shelf next to me:

Again, I don't love it, I don't hate it. If one of my art instructors from college saw it, they would turn their nose up in disgust. "Boring" they would say. Too stiff with no expression. But, nevertheless, I worked past their voices in my head & finished it. One of my new rules, is to FINISH every drawing I start. Even if I don't like where it's going. (Something I also need to do here with all my unfinished posts!).

There. Another drawing down.

So now what. What to draw after the boring mother/child drawing. Again, stumped. Again, without thinking, I just picked up my sketchbook, this time with my 4 yr. old & her sketchbook, we proceeded to draw together. She drew a beautiful portrait of herself, while I drew a children's rocking chair that was sitting in front of me. BTW, when I say "beautiful", I truly mean it. Children's artwork is the purest form of art & I envy every child's ability to look beyond the actual picture & just create. Again, a subject for a whole 'nother post - or, with as wordy as I am, a book.

I decided to do a "blind contour". In art school, I did not know why the hell we did these. I found then to be tedious, meaningless & just plain annoying. Through the years, & I mean YEARS of school though, I understood why we did these seemingly pointless exercises. Because that's exactly what they are! Pointless exercises! Drawings that have no goal, that take the pressure off creating masterpieces, that have no end point except for exercising the process of "looking". Really looking at the subject. Studying every line, shadow, & curve without looking at your paper & having the pressure of creating gallery worthy art. An exercise for your eyes & brain to see & record what you see, rather than worry about what the drawing looks like. I could keep going, but then this WOULD turn into a book. Apparently the 3rd one I have started within these post.

I did 2:

(I apologize for my lame pix of my drawings. Sadly, I have yet to figure out why my scanner does not send pix to my computer.)

Then my mind took over & said: " now do a 'real drawing' of rocking chair". One that looks like it rather than a collection of random lines & curves with no rhyme or reason. So I did:

The blind contours, to me are far more interesting then the regular, boring old drawing of a rocking chair. (Where did I hear this before?) Although I did try to create movement with a variety of strokes, the blind contours are a dance of shapes & lines I find much more visually stimulating. I get it I get it. The evil art instructors, who would look at my self-portrait above, & say to me: " we don't want to see a pretty picture" (which is exactly what one of the instructors said to me about a self portrait much like the one above) got what they wanted. They molded, more like pounded my tender mind into believing that art is not "pretty pictures". It is expression, it is the ability to draw like a child. Who like I said, are the greatest artists.

I'm really getting off the subject here. I guess my writing is sort of like blind contouring in a sense. I just write what I'm thinking, feeling with no real end goal. Again, another tangent. Geezus I talk a lot.

THE POINT: My idea is is to do one blind-contour a day. Not 1 drawing a day, one blind-contour a day. Not only do the resulting drawings turn out more interesting, it is also way more feasible & doable. It is far too much pressure to do a "DRAWING drawing" a day. Plus, maybe when I am ready to actually do "real drawings", they will inherit the quality blind-contours present, then the regular, boring ole drawing like the mother and child one I did. That's one thing that I have strayed from when in school is drawing is reverting back to drawing mechanically & with less expression & movement like in high school. The blind contours I hope will bring me back to the level at which I became accustomed & quite frankly intimidated & pressured by.

So that's it! One blind-contour a day. I'm thinking I should start a website/FB page for other artists that may be interested in this project. Some day. Enough on my plate right now:-)

The American Dream Part One

noreply@blogger.com (Restless Ink) — Thu, 26 Jun 2014 23:17:00 +0000

PREFACE

This is turning into more of a novella, so I'm breaking it up into parts. Plus, it's so much that I'm having trouble even editing & organizing my thoughts as I really have no time without the little ones needing help with their homework, a snack, or are referee. So instead of this being yet ANOTHER post I don't publish....here is so far...unedited (kind of)

PART ONE:

From the moment we are able to walk, form words, eat on our own, we are thrown into a world where we are ~~brainwashed~~ taught by our parents, people around us, books & movies that romanticize love & how "the one" will be the key to our happiness, that the only way to be "happy", that The American Dream, is to do well in school, flourish in a career, get married to "the one", which btw you are suppose to know & make a decision in the tenth of the time as you will be spending the rest of your lifeg with..is "the one" that you will have to spend the rest of your life with in a perfect wedding, bare perfect looking & behaved children, & live happily ever after.

So, we do it. Some do it all happily, some miserably. Some do 80% happily, some do 10% & have the balls to say F this. Some of us though, in the middle of doing it all, slowly but surely, lose our souls. We lose our identities, have to sacrifice our dreams.

The funny thing is, is that "failing" is if we do not sacrifice, if we do not follow these set of guidelines. "Failing" IS following our dreams. Because rarely, by following this formula, are we following our dreams. Are you following me?

We get through our childhood & adolescence. Some happily gliding through with no glitches (at least we on the outside think so). Some survive by the skin of their teeth; miserably with horrific home lives, school lives, & internal conflicts, pressure from parents, illnesses or handicaps. Unless life is tragically cut short, without a moment to come up for air, we are onto the next stage of our lives. To find "the one", figure out what the hell we're going to do with the rest our lives forced into making a decision before we even know who we are.

The ones who do it "right", go to college, find the love of their lives, graduate on time with a promising career waiting for them the day after graduation. Some of us take our sweet time, rebelling against the "right" way to do it, figuring out who we are, & "failing" in the eyes of everyone else. But maybe we make it by the skin of our teeth, marry in time to have children, squeeze in a decent career & redeem the "failure" we were when we were happily, freely living our lives. Although, in our eyes, the confines of this institution look glamorous & tie our lives up into a nice neat little package called The American Dream.

But wait a minute. It ain't over yet!

Marriage & children begin the process of compromising. Compromising EVERYTHING. Not always. Some are lucky? I think? Couples that agree on EVERYTHING. In the beginning, small compromises. What kind of cake are we serving at the wedding, what music are we playing at the reception, WHERE are we even having the wedding. If you're lucky, after all the decisions, the stress, making the big leap is exciting. If not, one of us starts losing ourselves in the decision making process witnessing how one another handles stress, makes decisions, & handles it all. Some of us make it & still like each other by the time we are done. Some of us start seeing a different side of this Prince or Princess Charming we fell in complete love with & start the process of convincing ourselves that it's o.k., that we love this person & it doesn't matter. "I do".

Yay! We're married! Some are relieved. Parents are relieved Whew! My kid is normal & on their way to success! Finally! Some are scared. Anxiety & fears may start to set in after the party & reality hits. This is it. Either way, we are in it....forever holding our peace, forever tied by one decision, by one day, one piece of paper, & everyone's tears of joy.

(PART TWO for my MILLIONS of readers;-) is on it's way!

Gold Dust Woman

noreply@blogger.com (Restless Ink) — Fri, 13 Jun 2014 02:53:00 +0000

Rock on, Gold Dust Woman

Take your silver spoon, dig your grave

Heartless challenge

Pick your path and I'll pray

Wake up in the morning

See your sunrise, loves to go down

Lousy lovers pick their prey

But they never cry out loud, cry out

Well, did she make you cry

Make you break down

Shatter your illusions of love?

And is it over now, do you know how?

Pick up the pieces and go home

Rock on, ancient queen

Follow those who pale in your shadow

Rulers make bad lovers

You better put your kingdom up for sale

Up for sale

Well, did she make you cry

Make you break down

Shatter your illusions of love?

And is it over now, do you know how?

Pick up the pieces and go home

But did she make you cry

Make you break down

Shatter your illusions of love?

And now tell me, is it over now?

Do you know how to pick up the pieces

And go home? Go home, go home

Pale shadow of a woman

Black widow

Pale shadow of a dragon

Dust woman

Pale shadow of a woman

Black widow

Pale shadow, she's a dragon

Gold Dust Woman

Woman, woman

Songwriters

NICKS, STEVIE

...

noreply@blogger.com (Restless Ink) — Wed, 11 Jun 2014 04:13:00 +0000

Teddy Bear Toast:-)

noreply@blogger.com (Restless Ink) — Tue, 06 May 2014 16:41:00 +0000

Yet another, Pinterest find. Toasted bread, peanut butter, sliced banana, & raisins!

Who You Are

noreply@blogger.com (Restless Ink) — Tue, 22 Apr 2014 16:16:00 +0000

No matter how hard you try, you cannot win with some people. Unfortunately, it may be people you are the closest to &/or possible need the most acceptance from. I am starting to realize, I will not win with these people & sadly never be good enough for them.

It's o.k. though. What's cool about being 40 some years old, & with the help of Pinterest (;-), I am learning to be me no matter what other people think. Finally.

I hope you (all...1 of you) can take something from this if you are in the same position. You are doing the best you can. Give yourself a break. Do YOUR thing.

The fact is, everyone suffers from their own demons. At some point, these people probably did &/or do, deal with the same non-acceptance. The way they treat you is simply a reflection of their own struggle.

Nevertheless, if people (even those closest to you) cannot accept you the way your are, your past, your beliefs, your actions, F*ck 'Em. Seriously.

Spring Cleaning

noreply@blogger.com (Restless Ink) — Tue, 08 Apr 2014 22:10:00 +0000

My thoughts exactly.

The Junk Drawer

noreply@blogger.com (Restless Ink) — Thu, 16 Jan 2014 17:54:00 +0000

My worst enemy.

On my journey of "Throwing Away 25 Things A Day" inspired by Fly Lady, I have no choice but to tackle the impossible. The Junk Drawer. More like Junk Drawers.

Twist ties

Spare keys to residences, mailboxes...secret mysterious lock boxes....uh huh

Rubber bands

Coins from countries I didn't even know we went to

Garage door openers to garages I don't know if we have ever opened

Parts part parts parts - to toys, electronics, gadgets, appliances....if thrown away - OMG what if I NEED the part?!?!?! What if that ONE PART I THREW AWAY is the part that would SAVE the APPLIIIIIIIAAAAANCE!!!

Listerine Breath Strips? Yuck

Floss for the day we actually START TO FLOSS

Screws, nails, washers....

Remotes....to what? The fear is the day we DO figure out what the remote was for, & don't have it because I threw it awaayyyyy!!!

THIS:

What the hell IS IT???!!! It looks IMPOOOORTAAAANT? If I throw it away, will we....BE DOOOMED???!!

Anyway, one of many good things that is coming out of this journey, is that once I start doing it, I can't stop. For instance, in the process of going through just ONE of our junk drawers this morning with the intention of only throwing away 25 Things, I have the need to completely clean the sucker out. It's a tough job but, well you know the rest. Btw, remind me to wear gloves next time! Yuuuuck!

Another favorable by-product of this glamourous journey, is that I am now on constant "junk alert". (This could counter my need to be more relaxed though).

All in all, it's all good. All.

If you weren't here for my LAST post, ANOTHER resolution I am making is to JUST POST, without proofreading a dozen times, obsessing, editing...& well never posting. So, expect everything but the best ;-)

At least there will BE something:-).

Slowing Down

noreply@blogger.com (Restless Ink) — Thu, 16 Jan 2014 02:41:00 +0000

So I had another migraine in the middle of the night. Followed by 4 sessions to the can for - ahem - unmentionables. Goooooooooooood times! As my father always said: "Getting old is Hell". Profound man.

We are taught, especially in America, more is better. Accomplish more, make more money, bigger house, more clothes, more activities, more excercise, more more more more. This philosophy has been good and bad for me - already an over-achiever by default (being Indian), it pushed me in my teens to excel in - EVERYTHING. In college, struggling w/my identity, my partying ways, emotions WHILE trying to succeed, resulted in over achieving in failing. Bouncing off several rock bottoms, playing "catch-up", I went full speed into throwing myself into my career (while weening myself off my previous career. Partying like a mad woman.), again, with lofty goals & killing myself trying to achieve them & succeeding somewhat.

After torturing myself either overachieving as a student, party monster, playing catch up, getting married, having kids, playing the role of super-wife, super-mom, super-daughter, super-person - I'm TIRED. Super duper tiiiiiiiiiiiirrrreeeed. Buuuurned out.

Anyway, back to last night, keeping up with my killing myself ways, I enrolled in a web design course at the University. Although it goes against trying to do less, I'm super psyched about it. But yesterday was CRAZY which is what led to the migraine. Both girls home, doing the usual mommy multitasking cooking, cleaning, dishes blah blah blah, refereeing - finishing homework, getting them ready in time for me to NOT. BE. LATE. Thought I was on the right track by leaving at a semi-decent time, on my way there, I not only missed my exit, I panicked & ended up in evening traffic on the....LAS VEGAS STRIP. Couple that with my laptop not connecting to the school network while the instructor was ankle deep in coding. Not a good start to class. But, I got through it.

I could feel the beginning of a headache on either side of the bridge of my nose while in class & didn't think it would get worse - until, I got home and the kids were LITERALLY - I mean literally (they have the gymnastics bug) bouncing off the walls, couches you name it. When Mommy's away, the kittens will play! On top of starving (trying to lose the holiday fluff), the budding headache was well on it's way to being woken up by a full-on migraine at 4am.

I have to have to HAVE TO sloooooooooowwwwwwww dooooooowwwwn dammit!!!! Seriously on my way to a stroke. I just know it. Too many headaches, too much stress.

How do I do this when I have SO MUCH I need to do, wanna do, & have no time for???!!! Good question! If you know, shoot me an email & let me know.

At least I work out. But some weeks are hard to get to the gym. The yoga definitely helps, but it's not often enough.

I'm learning to WRITE - I mean HANDwrite slower. I know that may sound strange, but my writing has morphed into "scribble scrabble" (our little people's language). It is actually much more relaxing.

I find having less STUFF is key in relaxing the mind. With the help of Fly Lady, I'm getting rid of 25 items a day.

Coloring is relaxing & one thing I love doing with the girls. I knew I should have pinned those Adult Coloring pages! Get your mind out of the gutter - not that kind of "Adult" - I guess I'm the one with my mind in the gutter.

Other than that, haven't figured out anything else as of yet. Obviously.

So, it should be interesting to see what happens as I have no control over it apparently. Kidding. Maybe expect less of myself daily?

I discovered an awesome quote ~~from my Guru~~ on Pinterest:

I've been mentally repeating this throughout the day since I found it. I realize my to do lists are unrealistic. I realize my expectations are unrealistic. I realize it intelligently, just not emotionally.

Speaking of expecting too much out of myself, I quit posting so much as result of ~~my addiction to online gaming, Facehooking, & Pinterest~~ this "over-achieving" crap. Feeling hesitant to post content that I have not proofread half a dozen times, being comprehensive while entertaining, ending eloquently, not too long, not too short...it's no wonder I hardly ever write any more.

Writing does relax me though. It's a way to process my thoughts, & throw them out. So, in light of trying to slow down & relax, I am going to TRY (now, don't hold me to it!) to write more. BUT, edit less. As a matter of fact, I'm not even going to READ this! O.k., maybe just once. (And I just did, edited just a little;-) It will have to do.)

Speaking of over-achieving, simplifying, expecting less

isn't "25" a bit much?

New Year's Resolutions

noreply@blogger.com (Restless Ink) — Tue, 07 Jan 2014 01:09:00 +0000

1. Spend more time on the internet, pinning, playing games, & facehooking. You know, respectable stuff.

2. Cook less & order out more.

3. Go shopping 3 times a week instead of working out 3 times a week.

4. Lose complete control of our financial situation. Or, I should say, even MORE control.

5. Start drinking & smoking again.

6. Gain weight.

7. Become more antisocial.

8. Read less & watch more TV.

9. Sit down more & be less productive.

10. Stop cleaning.

:-)

What?

Just kidding. Geez.

Seatbelt Surgery

noreply@blogger.com (Restless Ink) — Thu, 10 Oct 2013 10:24:00 +0000

So, I had to cut my daughter out of her seat the other day. Btw, it was the seatbelt I performed the incision on, not my daughter.

I had heard of the "terrible twos".....- although we DID experience those we have ALSO had the pleasure of having the:

"Overwhelmed (parents) Ones"

(or if you prefer alliterated version)

"What in the World, Where do I start, Why me (again the parents) Ones"

"Terrible Twos"

"Treacherous Threes"

"Fatal Fours"

"Ferocious Fives"

"Sociopathalogical Sixes"

"Subjective Sevens" (as it depends on the person telling the story & the day of the story)

I have not yet experience the "Eights" but my hope is the "Easy Eights".

Anyway, it all started on our way to drop off library books. Our little ~~maniac~~ princess safely (or so I thought) tucked away in the very back of the van, fastened tightly (ahem) in her booster, starts Fa-REAKING out. Since this is not uncommon, I calmly asked her what was wrong. As her cries escalated, I looked back & saw our little contortionist tangled up in her seatbelt.

Since the library was just a few seconds away, I waited till we pulled in front of the dropbox to see what exactly was going on. Again, since I'm quite used to this sort of craziness, I was not at all panicked as it was just her lower half of her body involved in the hot mess - till I actually tried to get her out. The Little Houdini managed to completely tie her leg up in the seatbelt which was coincidently jammed up top & would NOT give. AT ALL.

In a state of mild to medium hysteria, punctuated by moments of fleeting calm clarity, I quickly looked in the manual & googled "Honda Odyssey seat belt jam" for any info on how to unlock the seatbelt to no avail. Giving up on the jam, I proceeded to frantically attempt to untangle her little leg out. Pouring sweat, I called my overly cautious to the point of paranoia husband who told me I would have to CUT her out. Honestly, the thought HAD crossed my mind, but I just did NOT want to go there. But, I had no choice.

Stranded in the parking lot with my baby literally stuck in the back seat - wailing at the top of her lungs, I thanked myself for always having a - listen to this - SCISSORS - I now always carry in the middle console.

Faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive able to leap tall buildings in a single bound...whatever...I cut the kid out.

Maybe it's because ~~we're a family of wackos~~ our kids are more challenging than other kids? Or because no one tells the truth only talks of the "joys of being a mom" (in sing songy opera voice)? In our world, for every joy, there are 46 "un-joys". (Sorry autocorrect.)

It's true, I complain a lot. A lot. I have a low tolerance for most - anything. Maybe it's lack of carbs, maybe it's hormonal. Maybe it's that I'm a ~~wacko~~ actually, forget the strike-through, I am a wacko.

It is absolutely a phenomenal, beautiful, miracle - these little people - I live for them, & quite frankly, sadly, I don't know if I would still be alive if it weren't for them (that's a whole other blog on it's own). I feel TRULY blessed. I really do.

BUT, its freaking hard. It's around the clock quadra-polar chaos.

In regards to the seatbelt, oh well. Just another day in the life of a mommy. Makes for a good story I suppose! :-D :-( :-D

"Patience Young Grasshoppah"

noreply@blogger.com (Restless Ink) — Mon, 26 Aug 2013 18:21:00 +0000

This summer has been....challenging to say the least. I have been bursting at the seams with a burning drive & energy to do something for myself. Something that would be personally fulfilling, creative, & mine. I don't know how else to explain it, "the thing" I need, the thing to fill the hole. The hole I have always filled with "bad" stuff. Bad stuff I won't do after having a family. Bad stuff that never filled the everlasting black hole I could never keep filled. Am I making sense??

I wonder some times if I have lost my mind?

Maybe all Stay-At-Homes go through this.

Summer break used to be the BEST part of life. The 1st minute of the 3 month prison break used to be a moment of deep exhale. Post-motherhood, not so much. I love the kids dearly, but oh - my - effn - God - 24/7 with the little tornadoes for 3 months is a living nightmare. Seriously. Sorry children, I don't want you guys to develop some sort of depressed-mother-who-doesn't-want-us-complex; because that is nothing further from the truth. You both are after all the best things that have ever happen to me, my everything, the reasons I was born, & angels who saved me from myself.

Unfortunately, this is not always enough! Especially for us Restless Mommies who suffer from the Tortured Artist Syndrome we have been cursed with since the day we were born.

At some point during this looooooooooooooooong summer, I went crazy. Like I tend to do every so often especially during times of immense stress. I enrolled in classes for this Fall. I do this every so often as I have been labeled a "professional student" among several other undesirable names I have lived up to for most my life. I know, I know: "GREAT"! you say. Well, for someone who can barely manage to keep dinner on the table, the sink free of dishes, the bills paid on time, the kids to their respective classes on time while Daddy is working 70 hrs. a week, Nani (Mommy's mommy) is out of commission with a knee-replacement surgery - therefore no one else to help with the kids: you get the picture....piling on 6 credit hours of HTML5 - pretty much a brand new programming language I have no experience in, & a 4 hr. Photography studio with 2 hrs. of travel time...is the formula for a heart attack waiting to happen.

Long story short, I dropped the classes last night before the train was out the gate.

I have to say, I am SO RELIEVED. A bit disappointed, but relieved nevertheless.

It's just hard - because I WANT IT NOW. I want to do all the creative stuff I have in my head. Make up for lost time, for years and years - some would say "wasted" - I say "gaining life experience" - whatever it is, I could have been gaining life experience while producing work. Approaching 43, I do feel an impending sense of running out of time to fulfill my dreams.

But, I know that now is just not the time. "It will happen when it's suppose to happen."

Thanks to the Great Teachings of, you may or may not have heard of my Guru: "Pinterest", I consistently come across awesome quotes that validate the journey.

The fact is, motherhood is my dream. At least, the most important one. Without it, nothing else matters. The other ones will just have to wait! *Sigh*:-)

Sibling Rivalry & 2 Disciplinary Apps that every Mommy Needs

noreply@blogger.com (Restless Ink) — Wed, 03 Jul 2013 21:09:00 +0000

Being an only child, I have very little experience with sibling rivalry obviously. The main exposure I had of it was my best friend & her little sister. WHOA: MMA fighters in the making. I was witness to many a fight perpetuated by screaming, hitting, & hair pulling that ended in scratches, bruises, bald spots...ok, no bald spots.... nevertheless, they were BAD. In addition to this experience, from observation & talking to people with siblings, fighting, not talking to, & general dislike for each other is not uncommon.

For me, who always WANTED a big sister/brother, or little sister/brother, not only has it been perplexing, it's so sad. Don't get me wrong, being an only child has its ++s, & I understand how spoiled we only children look on the outside & most of us ARE spoiled in many ways. But playing alone most of the time & having no one to share family ~~miseries~~ joys such going to the park, ~~therapy~~ vacationing, even just going to the grocery store can not only be terribly boring, but us "onlies" miss out on the opportunity to have a permanent playmate & friend for life.

When I got pregnant with our second girl, I was OVERJOYED with the idea of having two girls that would have each other to lean on. A perennial best friend for the rest of their lives. To have what I didn't have. Little did I know.....

From the minute big sister met little sister at the hospital, the bittersweet dynamic of sisterly love & hate was born. Through my "research" I was aware of the possible jealousy the older sibling experiences, & thought I was prepared - HA! - I was sadly mistaken. Nothing could have prepared me for the roller coaster I was about to be led on.

The last 4 years since little sister was born, the majority of my parenting feels like it's been devoted to securing big sister. Making her feel as important, as loved, as precious as her little sister. From day one, as much as big sister absolutely ADORES her little sister, we have had to protect the little one from the other maniac. Now that the little one is getting a bit older, the one way street has become a 2 way street & they are now BOTH almost equal participants. As much as I have tried push the whole "howluckyyouaretohaveeachother" gig, 90% of every day is spent refereeing the little monkeys. I could go on & on about this, & probably will in another post, but the main purpose of this post was to tell all of you (all...2..of you? are you guys still there?), about a couple of phone apps that are saving me ~~from killing myself~~.

1. Behavior Status App for Android (Traffic Light for iPhone & iPad)

2. Reward Chart App for Android (iReward for iPhone & iPad)

O........................................................M..........................................................G

The apps allow the user to input customized areas of discipline. Since my main concern has been the fighting, I have rewards for "being kind" & disciplinary action (change in color zone which could lead to "timeout") when there is a fight ensuing.

I have tried everything, you name it. (Seriously, "name it" in the comments as I would love to know if there is something I have not tried).

Over a dozen different charts I have either downloaded or created myself, "Good Girl Bucks" I spent more time in designing than using, disciplinary straws, money, bribery, guilt trips, timeouts...everything. The main problem is is MY lack of commitment to them. Finally, I decided I have to accept my shortcomings & work with what I KNOW I will use. Apps. They are TOTALLY.....WORKING. Mainly because they are EASY to use & keep track of on my phone which I always have in case of ~~my turn in Words or Dice~~ emergencies.

I highly suggest it.

Ok well, I had better get back to my well-behaved ;-) kids...

Easter Basket Weaving & Paper Egg Decorating Craft

noreply@blogger.com (Restless Ink) — Fri, 29 Mar 2013 18:34:00 +0000

I managed to get in ONE more Easter craft last minute before the big weekend. It turned out a bit more complex than I had envisioned, but I thought I would share it nevertheless. I'm always lookin' around for ideas, so if anything, this could just be a starting or ending point for you!

Do you remember "weaving" construction paper strips when you were little? I do, & I LOVED it. I know, total geek. Anyway, below is what you will need with a step by step GUIDE; with an emphasis on "guide" as you may need to "customize" the craft to what is easier for you.

What you will need:

Construction paper (assorted colors)

Scissors

Crayons & or Markers

Glitter, stickers, other embellishments for decorating eggs (optional)

Glue stick

Ribbon

PDF to download & print:

basketGrassEgg.pdf

Directions:

1. Print out template on copy paper

2. Cut out all template pieces

NOTE: For basket, the dotted lines to do not need to be cut out on template. Just on the piece for the actual basket.

Trace templates on desired color of construction paper. (For example, if you want a pink basket, lay the template on a pink sheet of paper & trace it)

Cut 8 - 10, 1/2 inch strips lengthwise (use a paper cutter if you have one!)

Start weaving! I found an excellent link for a weaving tutorial if you need:

The Weekly Scrapper Paper Weaving Tutorial

(Btw, I quickly realized that my children were maybe too young to have the attention span for the weaving. So, you could have them just decorate the eggs while you prep the baskets.)

(I'm putting pix of both of my girls' baskets up to be fair:-)

After weaving, cut down edges that are hanging off sides.

Finish off basket by folding the top strips, to create a nice folded edge.

Next, is the grass. Cut out & glue on backside of basket so just the tops of the blades are showing.

Take the beautiful egg creations your little ones thoughtfully decorated, glue them on the backside of the bucket.

After glueing the eggs, hole punch the corners of the baskets, string with ribbon, & knot. I used 2 pieces so I could tie I nice big bow at the top:-)

There you have it!

Hopefully, this is a craft your were able to do WITH the little ones and not FOR the little ones as mine kind of became;-)!

Bunny Shadows Storytime & Craft

noreply@blogger.com (Restless Ink) — Sat, 16 Mar 2013 18:44:00 +0000

So, if you have been here before, you might have read about how I used to be a total "craft mom" with my oldest. After the 2nd one, that kind of ahem, um, faded. I mean, we do some here & there, but nowhere NEAR what I did before. Ah, the trials & tribs of having 2 instead of 1. Btw, how you guys that have 3 or more, WOW.

Well, I have finally started again, & thought of a new fun storytime craft I would like to share!:-)

The story we read is called "Thumper's Scary Night".

You don't need the book to do the craft, although it ~~kills~~ allows you to spend more time with the little ones;-)

What you will need:

Scissors

Crayons

Glue

Tape

String/Yarn

Book (not necessary)

PDFs to download & print:

scaryBunny.pdf (head & ears)

scaryBunny2.pdf (ears & paws)

White sheet

Table

Flashlight

Directions:

1. Storytime!

2. Collect "scary" branches, leaves & plants from outside. Great way for the kids to & ~~weed the yard & kill~~ spend some time in nature:-)!

3. Print & cut out bunny parts. (Need to work on taking better pix during craft time!;-)

4. Add your own bunny face, color, & decorate bunny parts.

5. Assemble bunny

6. Tape or glue "scary" plants, weeds, leaves, branches around bunny on backside, to make "scary" bunny monster silhouette/shadow. I used tape for reinforcement.

7. Let him (or her) dry.

8. Punch a couple holes, one in each ear.

9. Thread string through holes & tie.

10. Wait till it's dark......then....

Cast your shadows!

(We just put a white sheet over the dining table & used a flashlight on one side while the bunnies hung on the other side.)

Well, there you go! Enjoy!;-)

It's OK to be Restless

noreply@blogger.com (Restless Ink) — Thu, 21 Feb 2013 01:52:00 +0000

So, as you may know, or not if you've never been here, I am chronically tortured by having multiple interests. I started out with an art degree, moved into clothing design, then graphic design, filmmaking, motion graphics, web design....you get the picture. Speaking of, I even tried my hand in photography. Oh, & THIS BLOG! Btw, I've even considered personal training. Hence the name "Restless Housewife"...which results in a "Rest-less Housewife";-/

Anyhoo, I recently searched desperately for a book that may help me cure me of this agonizing deliberation.

The Renaissance Soul: Life Design for People with Too Many Passions to Pick Just One

Thank you Margaret Lobenstine!

I am only 4 chapters in, & already I feel as though I am clearing a path in my jumbled up brain.

Not only does this book NOT make feel like a complete ADD freak, it reveals the advantages (yes! advantages!), & misconceptions of being multi-passionate.

I thought lightning would strike & I would all the sudden know which of these endeavors I should pursue & stick with. Well, lightning DID strike. But I can't say it gave me a direction in my career.

Lobenstine has several exercises (I'm sure throughout the book - but I'm only 4 chapters in, so I'm not sure:/), for self-examination that absolutely help in clearing the path. The 1st exercise is call "Five from Fifty", in which you choose 5 values out of the 50 she has listed that are the most important to you.

It didn't take long for me:

Family

Home

Meaning

Creativity

Relationships

Not necessarily in this order.

I really thought about it. What legacy do I want to leave behind? What do I want to be remembered for? Will I be on my deathbed saying "I really wish I was a better graphic designer"? "I wish I would've created more websites"? And lightning struck. I am exactly where I want to be. No, I will want to be remembered for being an awesome mom, wife, daughter, & friend. THAT is the legacy I want to leave behind.

This constant battle in my mind has always been there, but for sure got worse after becoming a Stay at Home Mom. We are conditioned to think that being a mom is not a job. That it is not enough.

It is enough.

It IS enough to be your child's #1 influence. It is enough be at home for your 3 year old so they don't have to be at daycare every day (not that if they do go it's a bad thing! subject for a whole other post!) To have the energy & time to volunteer at your 6 year old's Fall Festival, & to be the 1st on the call list for the teacher to call in case of a cupcake emergency. To prepare/& or be in charge every meal they eat (except for pizza day at school of course). To be home on the days they are sick instead of having their Nani be the one to nurse them to health. To witness every word exchanged between a strange new playdate & the precious innocent ears you so need to protect from horrific stories of a "boogyman stabbing someone in the stomach" (yes, this happened. & yes, I nipped that in the bud real fast). To be THE ONE to potty train them. To be THE one to comfort every cry.

SO, in conclusion, I will focus on being an awesome Mom.

Because it is enough.

(While continuing to learn web design, making clothes, maybe jewelry?... taking photos ;-/...God, I'm a mess)

(This post contains affiliate links. If you click through and make a purchase, I may earn a commission at no extra cost to you.)

Domestic Bliss

noreply@blogger.com (Restless Ink) — Fri, 15 Feb 2013 15:51:00 +0000

*******************************
DOMESTIC BLISS

The following series of photos reflects some aspects of the life of a Restless Housewife.

*******************************

The Rainbow Craft...or Not

noreply@blogger.com (Restless Ink) — Fri, 25 Jan 2013 22:48:00 +0000

Source: handsonaswegrow.com via Vineeta on Pinterest

My claim to fame. And, a false claim to fame since I didn't even create it. I have had 297 repins, aaaaand, it's not even mine. Sad.

And of all things to be famous for, a Rainbow Craft. Geez.

Just so you know, I actually finally DID do this with the girls, not only were they snacking on the Fruit Loops while crafting, they got bored 5 minutes in & were onto something else.

Before becoming a Mommy, & even the 1st few years, & perhaps a spurt here & there, I excitedly come up with or find an arts/crafts project to do with the girls. Usually holiday related. It was much easier with just the 1st & now that she's 6, it can actually be super fun to do stuff with her. But now, with the 3 year old spitfire, doing a craft is pure torture. I have to admit, it really is.

I am really trying to have a good attitude these days especially with the winter blues I am cursed with, but seriously? Glitter everywhere, glue on the table, things being stuck on the craft that make no sense...I know I know - horrible attitude. Especially coming from a so-called "artist" I should be comfortable with the mess, the ~~nonsense~~ expression of her creativity she chooses to explore. I have let go on eyes, noses, & mouths being distributed around faces more as constellations in the sky. I actually have one of her masterpieces she had not included marker drawings, but the actual marker caps collaged into the mixed media piece I had showed off on my cork board where I display the kids creations.

I bring out the play-doh, have a whole crate dedicated to play-do accessories, shape-cutters, a cake decoration contraption I have yet to understand how to use. After 1/2 hr. of ~~making a complete mess~~, inspired sculpting, they are onto something else, & I am onto 1/2 hr of cleanup, play-doh that was once pink is now a multi-colored ball I can't understand why anyone would want to play with again. Play-doh stuck in microscopic holes and crevices I need specialized "dried up Play-doh tweezers" to get out of there.

Then, there is painting. O. M. G. As a so-called artist, like I said, I so should be promoting this & celebrating it in our house. I did even set up a painting studio for the kids in the garage as the children also LOVE to paint. But again, I am guilt-ridden with NOT painting with them because of the unbearable anxiety I get from paint EVERYWHERE, furniture, carpet, clothes....I'm just at the end of my rope I think. Seriously. The end. I'm ready for them to be 25.

BUT, I will admit, I HAVE actually done a fair amount of arts/crafts with the girls. I'm making myself out to be way worse than I am as usual. I just have slowed down a bit, & am feeling super guilty. As a matter of fact, am stalling on doing a Valentine's Day craft right now with the little one. Quite frankly though, she is happy with the iPad, I with the computer. Is that so bad?

STUFF

noreply@blogger.com (Restless Ink) — Thu, 27 Dec 2012 22:16:00 +0000

Oh, how much I do hate STUFF, let me count the ways!

Piles and piles of stuff.

There is a reason I have a Season Pass to "Hoarders".

Sorting through so much crap is painful for someone like me. Deciding what needs to be thrown away, where to store what needs to be kept, organizing...F@#$%$#@KING just want to get rid of EVERYTHING.

I've even Googled "throwing away" & "deciding" in the same field. Right now, I can't remember what I've come up with, but it only helps a little while & then I am overwhelmed again with STUFF.

OK OK, so, our house looks NOTHING like the houses showcased in the show "Hoarders", but I do UNDERSTAND what those poor people go through.

Part of it for me is an emotional attachment to THINGS. Especially now with a 3 & 6 year old growing up at lightning speed. I have bins & bins of STUFF I canNOT get rid of! I do actually have a plan for their baby clothes, so it's not all for not. But seriously, how in the world do you wonderfully skilled super-moms get rid of their tiny little socks & shoes? The plethora of stuffed animals that each tell a story & symbolize the love from the person who gave it to them? How? How do you throw away the scrap piece of paper they drew their 1st letter (at least what resembles a letter)?

Right now, & what inspired me to write this, is the aftermath of CHRISTMAS. O...........M...........G..........SO.............MANY............FREAKIN...............TOYS............WHEREDOISTART???!!!

Do I start with going through all the toys they have & sorting those out? Which shelf, which bin, WHICH ROOM do I start with??

Then, there are the BOXES. I have a love/hate relationship with BOXES. I'm in a state of euphoria when I have found the PERFECT BOX for the X,Y, & Z I need to mail to Uncle Joe for his birthday. (no, I don't have an Uncle Joe). But they take up SO. MUCH. ROOM. So which ones get to stay & experience the euphoria with me? Which ones do I put to rest & take a chance that I may not need that particular size? Does everyone go through this?

The fact that I am the daughter of a woman who couldn't throw away a Kleenex box (bless her heart) because she loves the flowers printed on it. Or questioned every non-working lamp, plastic container not placed in recycling, sock with a hole in it that could be mended.....I wanted to depart with.....may have something to do with my struggles with STUFF. The fact that HER mother scolded HER for every morsel of food she "wasted", every piece of paper that was not written on every square inch, front & back, everything & anything that could be USED for something - anything. It's commendable no doubt, but obviously contributes to/manifests itself as a ~~pain in the ass "crazy person's" disease~~ neurosis.

Well, I'd better get back to our stuff. I guess I should be grateful that we HAVE stuff. So, here is me, being grateful.

"Restless" Explained

noreply@blogger.com (Restless Ink) — Thu, 08 Mar 2012 04:47:00 +0000

Not sure if I ever explained it. Not sure if it needs explanation. It's pretty self-explanatory. "Restless" Housewife, "Restless" Ink (my graphics biz). I am "Restless", always have been, probably always will be. In every - aspect - of - my life. It's absolute torture. I - am - so - over - it.

Fortunately, after 4 decades of living, I have been able to manage enough areas to be pretty functional for the most part. Meeting me, you may never guess that I struggle with, well- everything. Then again, maybe you would. At least not in my life right now as an average, middle-class, minivan-driving to dance classes, birthday parties, suburban-living mother of 2 beautiful girls; wife to a successful, highly-respected video editor/producer, clean-cut, all-American, all-around good guy.

20 years ago my friends, not so much. I was a disaster. A train wreck waiting to happen. That actually did happen several times, over and over again - for years to come (whole other post some day). Until I realized that it was UP TO ME. Up to me to change myself. Up to me to change what I looked for in my daily life. To change what I was looking for in boys (which thank G. turned into "men"). To change what I was looking for in basically - everything. (Again, whole other post - or blog for that matter.)

BUT, this does not mean that I did "it". I'm STILL trying to find it. It being that thing we are all (maybe not "all") of us are looking, searching, living for. I'm sure lots of you (all 3 of you, btw thank you for reading) who may say it's God or whatever. Not that I don't believe in a "higher power", I just need more. It's that "tortured artist" thang y'all.

To make a long story even longer, I started seeing someone - NO no no, not what you're thinking. This isn't that kind of blog (but at least I got your attention!;-). I finally - again - started seeing a therapist just yesterday as a matter of fact. If you read my post before my last, you are aware of the winter, my thyroid & what the lethal combo does to me. Let me show you:

WINTER + MY THYROID = Depression = Stress + Anxiety

Like I said, my life is thankfully "normal", but as I told Restless Husband, I went to shrink my explosive brain. A brain that houses a whirlwind of thoughts & ideas. A brain that is at the root of 20 different dreams, goals, visions. A brain that is - Restless.

I'm actually writing this because I needed a place to kind of journal the process I'm going through with my therapist. (Let's call her Dr. Shrink). I was actually gonna pull out a spiral notebook and pen it, but I figured hey, this might be entertaining for you all (all 3 of you, thank you for reading again; that is, if you're still there).

We decided to first and foremost work on my career aspirations. Thankfully, I have actually stayed in the same industry for the past 10 years which has been graphics. I have moved around in the graphic design field, from print, to motion, to web, but for the most part, I stayed. BUT, that doesn't mean that I've been satisfied. SO, I started exploring photography, also furthered my web design skills, & actually had a stint in the clothing/apparel design world. I even designed an fun planner I'll have to tell you (all 3 of you etc etc) about some day for us overwhelmed housewife/mom types I tried (barely) to get published. Oh, did I tell you I tried my hand at film as well? RESTLESS

I think you can see where this is headed (I hope - cuz this is taking me forever to explain).

Because of my dissatisfaction with graphics, & a need to take a break from it, I thought of an idea I'm not going to discuss just yet. The challenge I'm having is that I still - in my explosive, restless brain - along with this idea, I am still toying with the photography & even the evil graphic/web design freelance thing. At my wits end with myself, my therapy will be aimed at figuring this all out. What I'm going to do, why I change my life goals within minutes, why I don't follow through - why I am restless. Why in the midst of juggling 3 different career goals, I come up with an idea of a movie script.

For all you left-brainers out there - you've got it made. You decide on one thing and just do it. I wish I had that.

The 1st 2/3rds of my life was getting here, to a safe nest with a beautiful, loving, supportive family - with a solid background in a career that I liked a lot, loved, & hated - but is lacking in areas for me.

Anyhoo, I hope hope hope Dr. Shrink can help me out & guide me through the mountains, the valleys, trenches, & tunnels of my explosive, restless, annoying - brain:-). Stay tuned for latest developments. If there are any!

Speak of the Devil

noreply@blogger.com (Restless Ink) — Sun, 26 Feb 2012 05:28:00 +0000

"well, i'm naturally drawn to those people who are overwhelmed by existence, by people who hurt too easily; who, for them, life seems to be almost too much: for whom the unceasing cacophony of thought and memory and idea is just too painful and all the cruelty and the violence is inconceivable and the mystery of life and love and foreverness and the past and all of it is just overwhelming to the point in which one wishes one could scream so loud that it would just make it all go away, that one could exorcise all of it, that one could just somehow leave, just leave their body and leave the planet and get away from all the people and all the loss and all the memories that sit in the stomach and the chest and the throat and just get away from death and from the monotony of everyday life and also from the hysteria of those moments, those big lifechangers, and leave behind the fact that he will die and that everyone he knows or ever has known will one day be a slab of meat in a wooden box. it's too much sometimes."

- Brian (don't know last name... brilliant reviewer I found on Goodreads)

My thoughts exactly. God I'm a mess.

I know I know....hellO!

noreply@blogger.com (Restless Ink) — Tue, 21 Feb 2012 18:53:00 +0000

It's been awhile, but I think about you every day!

I've had the urge to write for some time now, & well, here I am. So, let's skip the formalities and cut to the chase.

For 40 years I have been struggling with - LIFE. I guess most people have, but it's different when you're struggling with daily tasks such as...getting out of bed. Depression, yes, obviously. Antidepressants, yes, without them, I wouldn't be here. They have saved me and I'm a strong advocate of psychotropic medication for mental health & mood disorders that lead to dysfunctional living. Anyway, that's a whole other post - or even a blog in itself. Today though I'm here, to complain (that's why I have a blog, right?), about a tiny little gland located in my neck that seems to RULE or I should say UNRULES my life; that any amount of antidepressant therapy apparently does not resolve. And starting in the month of November continuing throughout the months of January, now February, my thyroid (that tiny little gland with the bite louder than it's bark) operates like a '57 Chevy. Crappily. I slow down, the world gets darker, everything becomes more difficult, & more than anything, I am F.R.E.E.Z.I.N.G. all the time. Especially in the mornings. And when you have little kids - there is no room for huddling, all wrapped up in an electric blanket, on the couch while on the computer (oh wait, that's what I'm doing now;-/ oops). That's what it's come to though.

Early winter, I'm o.k. - still functional. By - now - not so much. Completely useless. O.K., being a bit hard on myself - nothing new there. I did create an art studio in the garage for the kids & myself, went overboard as usual on Vday with hand-made cards & presents, take the kids to the Fresh Beat Band at Planet Hollywood, still manage to keep the house - decent, but I am nowhere near the energetic super mom I became (or at least try to be) after being diagnosed & treated for hypothyroidism. All these years, all the bone-chilling winters I was literally FROZEN - self-medicating with self-destruction, I had a thyroid that simply marched to the beat of it's own drum. Btw, when I say "FROZEN", I mean bone-chilling, from the inside out, COOOOOOLLLLD. Let me put it this way, during the Kansas winters I grew up in, which I barely survived, I wore long johns, or tights under all my clothes all winter. This solution was only discovered in one of the escapades I made from the cave of depression that immobilized me - along with my primitive man-like revelation of using "The Electric Blanket".

Although medicated, winter months challenge the thyroid as they do the engine of a '57 Chevy. Currently as I sit here bundled up in "The Electric Blanket" on High for over an hour now, my back is still chilled to the bone. And we live - in Las Vegas. This can't be normal.

I am supplementing with Kelp pills which have seemed to help a bit. A bit. Plus, with all the motivation I can muster up - I try to get to the gym which does help when I actually make it. I even started "running" again (in quotes because my running is more like fast walking with 2 minute spurts of a faster walk - ok - jogging). I did see the doc, but the test results did not, as ususal, come out the way I feel. And with the chronic bureaucracy issues controlling our health insurance, me being FROZEN, keeping up with daily the chaos & the unpredictable, brutal, physically exhausting schedule that comes gift-wrapped with having children this day & age, finding a doc that will help me despite the numbers on a manufactured test result versus the actuality of what is happening in my body, in my life....is absolutely i.m.p.o.s.s.i.b.l.e.

Maybe next year. Before I get this way, I will take on & tackle my thyroid like a relentless UFC fighter determined to make his mark. Because, well, this sucks.

Oh, & I forgot to mention I'm looking into possible & probable Seasonal Affect Disorder. Again, whole other post - God I'm a mess.

A.D.D. my *ss

noreply@blogger.com (Restless Ink) — Wed, 12 May 2010 17:05:00 +0000

I can't believe I'm writing this again when "Yo Gabba Gabba" is on again. THIS is the post that should've been called "Write Again" dangit. I think there's something about the sound of the show & of course the zombie-like trance my daughter gets into while watching it that must inspire me to write.

"It's fun to make a snack. It's fun to make a snack. It's fun to make a snack!"

So, as moms, we become professional multi-taskers, jugglers - my husband thinks of it as A.D.D. I think nooOOOoooT! Dear Restless Hubby: "If I didn't do 20 things at the same time, you would be living in a disaster zone and Child Services would take our kids away because their appearance and behavior would resemble wild monkeys." Today I have: picked up all the rooms, made beds, vacuumed, made breakfasts, put away left-over (not-perishable of course) groceries, cleaned off tables and counters, changed diapers twice, nursed thrice, dressed one kid, put one to bed, 2 loads of laundry and who remembers what else in my way of spinning in circles. Now, I'm ~~stalling~~ getting ready to work on this business we're hoping to launch in the next month here. I will reveal all later. (Not because it's secret only because I'm too lazy to explain at this time).

I remember once talking to RH on the phone with one hand while brushing my teeth with the other and bouncing the baby in the bouncer with my foot. A.D.D.? Um, no. It's called survival.

Write Again

noreply@blogger.com (Restless Ink) — Fri, 07 May 2010 22:10:00 +0000

I don't know if you've noticed, but I have sort of a "love/hate" relationship with this blog. I've even thought of starting completely over with a new one thinking maybe I'd be more inclined to write without whatever the "thing" is that keeps me from writing in this one now. That "thing" is checking to see how many hits I've gotten, how many subscribers I have, feeling intimidated by the rockstar Mommy Bloggers out there and feeling that I'll never measure up. That "thing" becomes writing for the reader and not for myself. This has been my problem my whole life with most everything I do. I look too much to the outside for approval. If I don't get it, I get discouraged and usually quit. Or, I get too stressed out by pressuring myself to be better. Then, I move onto something else, and the cycle repeats.

Anyway, I've decided to at least stop checking my subscriber list. I don't have the service that counts hits anymore and I'll deal if I don't get any comments. I know, I sound so pathetic, but it's the truth. I am going to just start writing for myself. Maybe my writing won't measure up, but I really just need a place to - you know - do this.

So, now what I really want to write about:

MY STOMACH - or shall we say - "BELLY". I owe it all to the frckn Winchell's that opened up 5 blocks from our house. Seriously annoying. I was doing so good too! Back at my fighting weight, feeling normal when I sit down with maybe a little overhang, but a reasonable amount. Now, it's major overhangage. Like the kind on an overweight man that maybe is wearing his belt a couple notches too tight. I was going to illustrate it, but I'm too lazy. Probably part of the reason I look like an overweight fella.

Speaking of lazy, I really don't enjoy "Yo Gabba Gabba". What's the relationship you ask? That I'm too lazy to get off my now, squishy bottom, to play or do a craft or something with my daughter so she is not, yet again, watching Nick Jr.

Btw, don't know why I named this post what I did.