Till death do us part.

My daughter was just playing out different scenarios of what kind of kissing was okay. Like, on the cheek, or on the lips. Boys, girls. This led into: “when daddy dies will you marry again?”

Not if, when.

This went on for awhile. The if, thens. She then concluded, “you and daddy will die at the same time”

Moving on, now we’re talking about the age of driving and what is on the test. I cant keep up. I’m so tired. Anyone else tired this Tuesday?

So that just happened.

Awkward!  I had a whole host of interrupted genius saved as drafts.  I meant to go back.  I swear I did.  So I put a date a year or maybe 6 months into the future.  Apparently they were all at the same date….Happy Surprise of unfinished work.  Ever had that happen?  Share your best/worst experience.  Bonus points if you have a photo.

As an update, I’ve decided I’m going to set aside a little time each week to write.  I’ve gotten so much feedback from people that I should, “Write a book”.  I laugh, but then find it intriguing.  Like how would you even begin to actually finish something like that?  Perhaps the way you eat an elephant?  So I figure.  Let’s just start.  I appreciate your feedback and some of the things I’ve considered:

  1. How will my kiddos feel about their shenanigans being featured when they are teenagers…and do I really care?  This is my life I’m writing about, and my feelings.  Should I be super millennial-y and have a lot of perspective & tolerance, or do what I want like a baby boomer?  (Sorry to play on your stereotypes, but this is what I’m wrestling with…)
  2. Writing from personal experience (however embellished) makes me feel super vulnerable.  I do not like being vulnerable.  I like having thick skin like the alligator with the knife stuck in his head currently swimming around in Texas.  Can I hack it?
  3. Will anyone read it, and once again- do I care?  Because then 1 & 2 wouldn’t matter.  HMMMMMMM.

What are your deep thoughts on the matter?

How do you identify?

I always see bios of women Start with mom, wife, lover of blah blah, blah. I never identified as a mom or wife first, even after these last 6 years…until this morning.

Mira made her way to our bed around 1:30am and promptly scooted so her diapered bum was on my head. Legs on my neck. Fall back asleep. Wake to the strain and terrifying sound of a long wet poop fart. I’m now identifying as a mom first, always.

Not crafty.

So last night I went to the Fab-o-lous Pulp&Pine DIY Studio and Handmade Market for a fundraiser. I totally support local business, and needed a break after trying to capture our rooster for transport (more on that later).

We had some projects to pick from, & let me tell you, some craft professionals showed UP. I quickly discovered I am not among that class….. everyone’s project was so uber professional & design worthy. Mine? Well, just put on your sunglasses to check out this yellow truck.

I love color, and the more I painted, the more I enjoyed myself…so I just kept painting and painting. So I dont have a craft room, but man, it makes you want one. It’s so incredibly therapuetic. If you can find a studio like this, or a craft club, I bet you can find someone with the supplies who can show you what’s up.

The best part? Watching everyone else’s ideas come to life, & recognizing greatness in others where you lack your own skills.

Now I’m off to try and catch that tricky rooster, again.

#notacrafter #crafting #indianamakers

#makersgonnamake #chickencatcher

Responsibility

My daughter shared with me that she is “very sorry for creating the hurricane situation” and hope no one dies because it would be her fault.

Apparently, she and her best friend created a weather machine to control the weather. They could not agree upon the type of weather to have, and thus….the hurricane.

The ban.

I have put a ban on the kids falling asleep in our bed. It’s a mommy ban though, the kind that bends a little. However, with a herniated disc in my lower back and very little sleep the ban has become real. I dont get much sleep, so the stuff is precious. No more bending, of any kind.

Last night, my little middle Lily really wanted to be in my bed. She was so persistent about being with me she followed me like a talking shadow until I finally laid down. Since she couldn’t be with me in bed, she made a bed beside my bed on the floor and held my hand until she fell asleep. This

One thing that lights up my whole morning. When I open the door to the kids room, and my youngest yells “mommy” with such emotion that it cancels out all the tough moments before and after. She waves her arms, and as I pick her up she kicks her little legs like an excited frog. She wraps her arms around my shoulders, lays her head down, starts patting my back with one hand while she whispers, “I live you mommy. Mommy. Mommy. Mo.my, I love you.”

Moment of the week

My oldest explaining to her very #savage 2 year sister her emotions as my husband listens at the door. “I really feel left out because you & Lily spend so much time together at school. When I get home, then you don’t listen to me. It makes me feel bad.” So sincere, so sweet.

My 2 year old farts, laughs, & runs away. Her other sister is busy tearing the head off of her barbie, clearly giving zero…..