This is the number of profiles I have left to write. This is down from about, oh, 100 or so.

 

Six.

 

I feel like I can't type another word for a profile, but I have to. It's all due tomorrow.

 

I think I am going to get a Starbucks tonight, extra loaded, and come home and just churn them out. I feel like I have no words left, but that can't be true if I'm writing this blog.

 

My daughter finally made it to the zoo today. It was take two. I didn't think they'd make it because it was supposed to pour today. Actually, the predictions have been for it to pour all week. But so far, not a drop. But I can smell the rain in the area. It's coming.

 

I had an interesting and unexpected twist to my day. I was at work when a client asked if I could interview him in person. His office in the suburb where I live. I office in uptown, a 30 minute drive away in no traffic. There was no way I was going to drive all the way up here, have the interview, drive all the way back to work, and THEN drive all the up the Tollway home again. So I called hubby and asked if he wanted to have a sushi lunch date.

 

We met at our favorite place, and my intense craving for sushi that I've had for the past month was settled. The spicy cajun roll there is something I have actually dreamt about. Anyway, he mentions he has to go home and change because he got called into an unexpected meeting with a client. He was in jeans. So we both head home for the remainder of lunch. Hmmm... probably enough said there. I don't think either one of us thought when we woke up today that that was how we'd spend a lunch hour, but it beats a burger at Wendy's, that's for sure.

 

As he was leaving, I was complaining about the house. It is a wreck, just as I had anticipated in an earlier blog. It is beyond gross. I told him how I wish our cleaning lady could come twice a month like she used to in the old house...how much of a better mood I'd be in....how things would feel less chaotic..... And lo and behold...he agreed. He said, "Call her up right now. We have too much going on in our life with work and the kids. I'm going to hire someone to mow the lawn and we're going to have Ivonne come every two weeks."

 

Clearly, we need to have sushi and "laundry" lunch dates more often. There's no telling what I can get out of the deal!

 

So I feel good about that. I did get some good writing done and I feel rested enough (amazing how a commute drains you) to get some more done tonight. It is swim night, and hubby can't help. As much as I love that my daughter is learning to swim and getting used to the water, these nights wear me out. Chasing around a baby in the lobby--make that a tired baby--is no bueno.

 

This is one of those weekends where we really don't have anything scheduled. I love these weekends. They are my favorite. A clean slate. We really need it, too. Lots of catching up stuff to do. The weekends afterward are filled with no less than five Easter egg hunts at various places, and obviously, Sunday School duties will go into overdrive for me as everyone who hasn't been to church in a year shows up on Easter Sunday and the Holy Week prior. That's a good thing though. I guess that's the point. However, I would imagine my class size will quadruple. I'm ready for May so that I can hang up my Sunday School teacher hat. I need a break from it. I am ready to be IN a class; not teach one.

 

Sunday is going to be a fabulous day. One of my favorite clients has a beautiful spa just outside of where I live. She has invited about five people at the magazine who she believes have been critical to the spa's success through writing about it for a spa day. The spa is closed and she is giving us the whole place for a day of treatments and relaxation. I am so excited. Hubby is watching the kids, and I am going to soak in every minute of it. So that's something to look forward to, anyway.

 

Last night was great. I met one of my oldest and dearest friends for dinner. She was in town to visit in-laws with her new baby. She has her own jewelry company, The Beaded Wave, that is off the charts. She started it up in San Diego, and it's taking off like crazy. Her stuff is even at Nordstrom's now! It is beautiful. I'll set up a link to it some time. Anyway, she let me go through the stash she was taking to a jewelry show and gave me a good "friend discount." I scored some beautiful stuff. My new favorite thing is the stick pearl necklace she made. Gorgeous. It was so great catching up with her over a glass of wine. It was like not a day had passed since we last saw each other years ago. She played a critical role in the strength I had when I left my mean 'ol ex husband years ago. We both started out getting paid pennies as reporters for a small-town paper. That's how we meet. We were both married to jerks. That's how we bonded. Plus, our mutual love for this crazy business. She went on to be a news anchor, and now she does all kinds of writing/tv/radio work in CA. We've done different things and been apart, but we are still really good friends. It's so nice to have friends like that--when you just "get" each other. Hey, and it's also great to have friends who can make some seriously kickin' jewelry! My BFF also has her own jewelry company and makes cool shirts, etc. I get the friend discount from her, too. Am I lucky or what?!

 

This has to be the most boring entry I've written. I mean, who really cares about the daily happenings in my life? I hardly care myself. Right now, just making it to the grocery store would be an achievement beyond description....... It's just been so busy that I can't seem to get anything worthwhile out on these pages. I guess I will eventually, when writing for my real job in real life slows down....

 

'Until then.....

 

 

Because I know that the week will get away from me so fast, I use a day that should be for relaxing and gearing up for that same week to prepare for it and well, work my arse off. I'd rather be sipping wine watching Desperate Housewives..... yeah right.

 

Because I know that no one else will fold and put away that pile of laundry on the floor, I'll do it.

 

Because I know that three out four people in a family will step around and through crud on the kitchen floor, I sweet it up and dispose of it. Over and over.

 

Because I know that hubby won't hang the buttlerflies and fairies in our oldest daughter's room, like he was supposed to do a year ago when we moved in, I will finally cave in and do it myself this week. The ladder sits in the room, awaiting my cursing.

 

Because I know it's not THAT big of a deal to wait until tomorrow to get my BC pills and pop one in the a.m., I'll just wait. I don't want to get out right now and deal with a cranky pharmacist.

 

Because I know that I'll be ticked off if I can't find any clean clothes that are right for the ever-changing weather for my kids, I am staying up late to wash, fold, and put everything away.

 

Because I know what it is like to lose a grandparent now, I hugged my granddaddy extra tight this weekend and tried to memorize what it felt like to have his strong arms around me. I asked him more questions and talked to him more. I took extra pictures. I just know.....

 

Because I know that memories fade, I stared extra long at my oldest daughter this weekend when she was on the boat, the wind in her face and a smile so big. "Faster, Pop Pop! Faster!" I squeezed her even tighter and tried to memorize the moment of her actually wanting me to hold onto her in a fast boat.

 

Because I know that babies grow up faster than you can turn around, I put my baby on my hip tonight and danced around the living room to music. She laughed so hard and had a grin from ear to ear. I was tired and not exactly in the mood, but I know it won't be long until I can't do that anymore. It seems like only yesterday I was doing that with her older sister......

 

Because I know that it's hard to make friends in a big city, I feel lucky I've made some new friends in the past few years and I vow to make sure I do things, despite our busy schedules, to remain friends. That's what life is all about, anyway.... friends and family.

 

Because I know summer is unbearably hot where I live, I plan on stopping by the store on Friday nights, getting something light to grill and a bottle of white and sitting on the patio for dinner, enjoying the spring weather while it lasts.

 

Because I know that hubby gets agitated on the topic of spending money about things that we don't need forever... strollers, tap shoes, baby gear, and the like--I have decided to stop discussing it with him when those needs arise. Just the small, annoying stuff. He likes that idea.

 

Because I know what topics tick off family members when we get together, I purposefully avoided any such topics this weekend and encouraged hubby to do so as well. It was quite pleasant, actually, so good call.

 

Because I know what a hard week this is going to be, with two huge deadlines staring me in the face, I am spending this evening do everything possible to be organized and ready. Everything is clean, straightened, and ready to go.

 

And because no one in the house really cares about those things, I  will also not to be shocked and horrified to find the house in shambles again by Tuesday.

 

And finally, because I know it annoys hubby that I blog at night for relaxation, rather than hang with him, I guess I'll get ready for bed now. I also know that 6 a.m. will come soon enough, and that's when the storm hits.

 

Because I know the lake trip this weekend was really nice and not so far away, I know I'll be going back there a lot this summer.

 

Because I know, I'm not longer 18 with the skin to prove it, I am going to make myself march in that bathroom and begin battle against the "fine lines and wrinkles" I used to think were for old people...... so here I go.

 

Til next time.....

 

 

 

So hubby and I get into this conversation a few weeks ago about money for retirement, for the girls' college education, savings in general, future earning potential or lack thereof, etc. I'm lying on the couch in our office, staring up at the paint mistakes on the ceiling when it hits me harder than ever..... "This is all up to us."

 

The type of retirement we have. The schools we can afford for our daughters. The ability for them to have and do all we want for them. Continuing to do better in our jobs. Two little angel-faced girls think we are invincible and can do everything and then some. I've never had a heart attack, of course, but I think I experienced, at that very moment, some sort of mild coronary issue. I was thankful that we've been responsible thus far and have played by the rules, but I also realized that "the good times" don't last forever, and we need to kick this financial machine into overdrive. I have decided that in addition to overhauling my body in the next few months, I am going to go on a financial makeover as well.

 

I have always been very financially responsible and was raised that saving is always better than spending. When my parents retired in their 50s, set for the rest of their lives, I realized they were on to something, even though during the years when I wanted them to spend (on me) I thought they were paranoid worry warts.

 

Worries about money stem all the way back to my grandparents. Living through The Depression apparently caused them to sock away just about everything they had and always live well, yet well beneath their means. As they have passed on or moved into retirement homes, my parents are finding wads of cash in the strangest of places. I'm sure they thought it was a good idea, "just in case." Growing up, I really didn't want for anything. Maybe I didn't have the best of everything, but if I needed it or really wanted it, in some form or fashion, I got it. Most everyone in my family is middle class to upper middle class. No one is "rich" but then again, I don't really know what rich is anymore with the entire country in personal debt up to their eyeballs. To sum it up, it's been an even ride throughout my life financially..... certainly not poverty level, yet certainly not wealthy.

 

Like many in my age group/generation, we are living better than our parents and grandparents did before us at this stage of our lives. We are lucky. Yet we work hard for it. We went to college and paid our dues like everyone else in entry-level jobs where you feel lucky to have enough at the end of the month to buy name-brand groceries. We have made some smart career moves and have stuck to a plan we made in pre-marital counseling--to always live conservatively and below our means....to save...set priorities and stick to them. I'm proud of us for that. Even so, I know we could save a lot more and spend a lot less.

 

However.......when you sit down and really think about it, how much is enough? No one is guaranteed tomorrow, but what if we live to the age of our grandparents or beyond? What if we want to retire early like my parents and spend the last half of our lives in a vacationesque lifestyle? Can we? What if our girls are accepted to some incredible private college and want to become doctors? That would be wonderful, but what will the cost be at that point? Two weddings. Two girls and all of the tap lessons, prom dresses, highlights, and shoes that implies. Enough said there.

 

When I really got scared is, what if the kids become really accustomed to where we live and this lifestyle, and then one day, it's all gone? I realize that would be a strange situation--both of us losing our jobs and earning capacity at once--but what if? I know, you can't answer what it? But WHAT IF? These are the things that keep me up at night. What if one of us gets really sick? How will we handle it? I could go on and on...... I do know and believe that these are the things I'm supposed to give to God. And on occasion, I can and do. I breathe a sigh of relief and feel OK. But then I forget to do that, and the cycle of worry begins again.

 

Shortly after this panic-stricken, coronary heart disease-inducing conversation, I had the opportunity at work to write some profiles for a co-worker who is overloaded. I get paid several hundred dollars per spread. I took the work. Today, all I can think of is, what have I done? My regular duties right now consist of writing profiles for lawyers that take up about 25 pages of the magazine, restaurant profiles, CEO profiles, a feature on lake living....all due at the end of the week. And this is after coming off of a huge assignment where I wrote copy for profiles about estate homes for a new product we're launching -- about 35 of them. Writing is only a portion of it -- there are the interviews, the fact-checking, the editing process, and the approval process with clients. And then we produce it -- that's another story and one of the hardest parts of the whole deal.

 

Yes, it's money. But what have I done? I vow to write at night. I can barely put this blog together (a release, thank God) much less more words about lawyers, houses, CEOs, and nearby lakes. Oh yeah, and write about the chef and the tres cool menu at the latest hot spot.

 

Of course, that is just my day job. My night job is bathing kids, listening to tales of pre-school, gathering all of the things I need to register my kid for Kindergarten, changing diapers, tickling cute chubby baby feet, kissing boo boos, holding a fussy baby, chopping up bananas, filling sippy cups, swim lessons, remembering uniforms and shoes for every lesson on the planet, remembering to buy diapers for the babysitter, cooking, cleaning, picking up small toys off the carpet so baby doesn't choke, paying bills, balancing the checkbook, running errands, dry cleaning, gluing back the lamp I broke, re-washing my daughter's hair because her Dad didn't rinse it out last night after bath (TANGLES...TEARS), rocking my baby to sleep and wondering how she got so big, calling the doctor for shot records, calling the gymnastic teacher to ask why daughter hasn't received the shirt I paid for, saying yes or no to treats, coordinating getting an arbor built, being supportive for my husband and all of his woes with work, etc., have sex with said husband, oh yeah call the pest control dude, call to make appointment for service for car, get everything ready for taxes.......... It is no wonder I don't feel like writing about somebody else's life at the end of the night when I have so much going on in my own. At work I want to write..... I try to write...but I field calls, coordinate with co-workers, have meetings, answer a zillion e-mails. I'm a writer by trade, but I don't seem to get a lot of writing done from 9 to 5. That's funny.... 9 to 5. Today, let's face it, it's 24/7 and we know it.

 

So back on the topic of money, had I not experienced that moment of sheer panic, I probably wouldn't have taken on all of this work. But I did. It's mine. I own it. It has to be perfect. And I'll get paid for it. To avoid future panic attacks, I am making a vow now to save all of it--not spend it. Cute spring shoes and tops be damned. If I got myself into this mess, I am going to darn well make it worthwhile.

 

Therefore, I will probably be MIA a lot in the next two weeks. It should start to slow down after that, once we put the May issue to bed. I'll return with real posts and hopefully more interesting ones at that. If you don't see new posts from me for awhile, just imagine me in my little grey cube, a Starbucks to my left, Diet Coke to my right, typing away. True, you can't take it with you...... but that's because it's so darn expensive along the way!

 

'Til next time......

Where does a month go?

 

How does it pass by so fast?

 

I realized that tomorrow is my baby's 14-month mark. It feels like just a few days ago that she was hitting 13 months, and I was stressing out about weaning her from a bottle to cup to meet my self-imposed 13-month deadline. Now, she drinks out of sippy cups, straws, and the bottles are thrown out. It's a non-issue. But a month ago, it dominated my thoughts.

 

A month ago, I swore this month's credit card bill would be lower. I was going to buckle down and keep us on a tight budget. I felt like we were doing fairly well on that until I got the credit card bill today, and the balance is similar to last month's balance. Wait! That month of "saving" went by too fast. I didn't get a chance to get started right.

 

A month ago, I felt like I had forever to get ready for an old college friend's wedding--lose five pounds, find the perfect self-tanner, get my hair highlighted, and find the perfect shoes and accessories for the dress. Five pounds...still here. Self-tanner....tomorrow. Jewelry and shoes? I had to buy them fast and without thinking because something is better than nothing. The wedding is Saturday. I bet the month went as fast for me as it did for the bride.

 

A month ago, I knew exactly what I was going to be doing at work in March. I had two sections. That's it. Now I have close to five. Their production dates all overlap. I am behind. The subject matter is anything but interesting. I realize I'll make more money, but at what cost? I wake up at 5 to get to work early. I leave late. I eat horribly. I don't exercise. I barely see my kids. I complain a lot. I'm tired. A month ago, I felt organized. Today, I feel lost.

 

A month ago, I felt like I had forever to get things ready for Easter for my girls. Egg decorating kits, dresses, and items for their baskets. I haven't done any of the aforementioned things. The clock is ticking. I must remember that to her, the Easter Bunny is real. I need to make it magical, special.... yet at the same time keep drilling the real meaning of Easter into her head. There are so many great children's church activities that I want her to be a part of. We'll be lucky to make any of them. Right now, I am hoping we're all dressed and in a pew on that Sunday.

 

A month ago, I just knew we'd have a big vacation planned and booked. This month, we decided not to take a big vacation. We have other great areas where we are spending those dollars, but I look into the summer days with a bit of sadness over the loss of a vacation that didn't even exist. I console myself by saying I'm too fat for a bathing suit anyway! However, a month ago I didn't have the idea that I came up with this week, which is to take a full week off this summer to enjoy a lot of nearby, fun things with my oldest daughter--just us--before public school beckons in August.

 

A month ago, I complained I had no short-sleeve shirts that really fit me. Yesterday, I bought five. And I really like them. A lot.

 

A month ago, I wondered how in the world I could possibly get in shape enough to wear I feel good in summer clothes. Then my husband bought an over-priced piece of exercise equipment. I now have my answer. The next step? Use it.

 

A month ago, my baby wasn't walking. Today, she is. She has more teeth. More hair. More words. Most recent are duckie, quack quack, and baby. I clap and smile for her every time she says them. She thinks she's a rock star. I tend to agree.

 

A month ago, my oldest daughter thought she was going on a field trip to the zoo. She was supposed to. Then today, on the way, her "teacher" got lost. They spent more than an hour driving around trying to find it, with directions. They found it. They didn't go in. My daughter says they told her it was because the kids weren't listening. Therefore, she feels punished when the fault lies with the "teacher." She ate the lunch I packed on the grass outside of the zoo, with ants crawling around. Sounds like cruel and unusual punishment to me. Now I feel the urge to take her to the zoo to make up for it, even though it wasn't my fault.

 

A month ago, my oldest daughter was terrified to put her face in the water. Today, she went all the way under water, and happily I might add. Life's simple pleasures......

 

A month ago, I swore I'd stop eating French fries. I've had them twice this week.

 

A month ago, I got sick on red wine after a night of being over-served. I still can't drink red wine. Therefore, I'm sipping on white wine right now.

 

So if June is technically the first of summer, I really only have two months of actual spring. I only have two months left that I don't feel like my oldest daughter is almost in Kindergarten and that my baby is in fact a baby. (In my mind, they stop being a baby at 18 months.) I hope these next two months drag by, simply so I can enjoy them more and pay attention to all the cute and wonderful things about them more. Sometimes I feel like I miss them, and they are right under my nose.

 

I'm sitting here with notes and papers all around my desk. I have deadlines on three different projects. I write from morning until night, all about topics that I wonder if I'd even read if I were on the other side of the magazine. I think, for tonight, I've lost my drive to write anymore. Tomorrow is a half-day at work. I have booked a pedicure and manicure at a really nice spa, before I pick up the kids. I plan on ordering pizza for the family tomorrow night and taking the night off, so to speak. Something tells me, the work isn't going anywhere. It's waiting for me, just like next month is. At least next time I sit in front of the computer, I'll have pretty nails......

 

Til next time......

So clearly I'm connected to the Internet again..... Connected as in, with a cord stuck to the laptop. Still don't have the "other" cord needed for wireless. But, true to his word, hubby did get me connected by my imposed deadline. I'll give him a hall pass this time.......

 

On the topic of hubbies, today driving home, we had a totally unexpected conversation about my ever-expanding to-do list. We recently got rid of the carpet in our study and had hardwoods put in to match the rest of the floor in the downstairs that flows into said study. Well, with all of the furniture out and everything in a state of disarray, I finally decide it's time to ask Hubby to touch up the office, the stain and paint, from his big New Year's home improvement project where he painted and stained the study. He says he's sick of the project. Sick of the project? The last time a paint brush hit the walls was in late January! I knew better than to bug him about it because that's a sure ticket not to get it done. However, with the house in shambles and paint and stain splotches everywhere, I guess I just let it all out.

 

Whew!

 

I could sense the frustration in his voice. However...... I could also sense that hew knew I was right. I thought he went to the gym. I pulled up into the garage from picking up the kids and there was his car. Hmmmmm... Enter the house. Dinner is in in the oven (granted, it was already thawed and ready to go in the oven, but....), and lo and behold, there was hubby in his boxers and socks, touching up paint and stain. When he finished, he hung the pictures. Finally. He moved all the furniture back in. Finally. Everything went back into place. He even moved his guitars out of the bedroom and into the study where we had always intended them to be. Even the amps! Hallelujah! My house looks normal and I went ahead and cleaned for the cleaning lady..... some of you know what I mean by that!

 

Oh, and the reason the guitars really got moved.... much like the Mustang.... the big screen t.v...... I casually agreed we should get a piece of exercise equipment for the home some day. We could shop around and price it out. I go out with a friend Saturday to do some shopping and I come home to find out I'm the proud owner of a top-of-the-line elipitcal trainer. A big one. So we move out a chair in the bedroom and give it to his mom b/c she has the matching couch. Then we realize we could have the chair. Oops. Too late. I figure in order for me to feel like I'm getting our money's worth out of this thing, I need to exercise 23.5 of the 24 hours a day, only stopping to take a drink and go to the bathroom. Maybe pat the kiddos on the head in passing. I swear I can't leave that guy alone with the Amex for five minutes.

 

The weekend was good. I can't say I did a whole lot. Went shopping around with Alleycat and the kiddos. Had lunch con adult bebidas..... and it was a madhouse with the kids. When we left, I was certain there was more food on the floor than in any of our stomachs. Kids and restaurants -- it's hit or miss. Most often though, a miss. The biggest accomplishment of the weekend was cleaning out my closet. Damn that felt good! I organized it all, and wound up throwing away 3 huge black trashbags of clothes, shoes, and accessories. If the item was in question, it was tossed. I have more space and I have a better idea of what I need now. Last summer I was post-baby and the summer before, pregnant so it's been two years since I really wore summer stuff. It's time for a closet "refresher" so to speak.

 

Let's see.... Construction on the arbor begins later this week. We're with a new company now b/c Hubby got ticked off at the original one for never calling him back. YOu'd think when you're ready to spend big money with someone that someone would be eager to call you back. Not so much. It must be nice to have so much business that you don't need anymore. So, he didn't get our's and ol Steve did. Congratulations, Steve...... I think we're also getting some landscaping done, depending on the cost. We both feel like a lot is going out right now but I have to keep in mind that we specifically saved for this for a year. We did decide though that we will most likely not go on a big vacation this summer. We will go somewhere with Amex miles/points, but it probably won't be the big vacation we'd planned on. Sea World is coming up, but I refuse to count that as an actual vacation. Especially if diapers are involved.

 

I really haven't had a lot of time for bloggin anyway because I picked up some new projects at work. I am in production every week this month and into next month. It is crazy busy. It's good b/c it's money and I like to be busy. It's bad because I feel like I'm running again....... that tired feeling of just going in circles and not feeling like I really have a life. I guess like everything else, this too shall pass. I actually typed out a to-do list today on my lunch break. It is over two pages long. It contains everything from little errands to big projects to tackle. Unbelievable. I guess that's life -- one big to-do list!

 

I went to lunch today with a former co-worker who also happens to be a great friend. It was nice to get out of the office and catch up. I should try to do that more often. I also decided that for my birthday this year, I want to go to San Antonio to visit my best friend for awhile. Hubby gave the nod. He is going to go and keep the kids with her hubby so I can go out with Sherry for dinner and drinks and some shopping. I am so looking forward to that. And speaking of going places, we are also taking off in two weeks to visit my parents at their new lakehouse..... I can't wait to see what they've done. They've been renovating it for a year and it's almost finished. I feel like we have grown apart b/c we don't see each other much like we used to. My sister should be there, so that is also something to look forward to. And with spring weather, it will be great to sit out on the deck and sip a glass of wine.

 

I have a few real blog topics for later.... I am just too tired to get too into it right now. I have been babyproofing the house -- all the cabinet stuff is unbelievable. I ran out of proofing supplies again and need to order more. I think this baby can work her way into just about any situation possible so I have to stay one step ahead of her! I may proof a few more cabinets and then call it a day. Something tells me even more adventures in working mommyhood await once the alarm goes off. Adventures I would never have guessed..... that's about par these days. Kind of like when the dental hygeinist pulled mushy bananas out of my hair a few days ago..... or when I walked around half the morning with a cereal bar stuck to my butt.....or when I was late for a meeting b/c I had to go back and get my daughter's lunch, simply because I couldn't stand the thought of her starving..... or when I get my daughter donuts in the morning because I feel guilty I'm missing her school field trip this week...... the list goes on. Such is life.

 

Til next time.....

That's what I feel like lately--a pressure cooker.

 

I don't know what is going on with me! I keep hearing it's March...spring fever. Maybe so. Every little thing is frustrating me. Stupid stuff that normally I would let go. It's weird. It doesn't help that every day another challenge comes way, both personally and professionally. I just have to keep concentrating on the fact that I know it could be much, much worse and the level of frustration I am feeling is nothing compared what other people are going through at this very minute.

 

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I feel like I'm on the verge of losing it..... like really throwing a yelling fit, west Texas twang and all. It's like it's right there, just under the surface. Once I "pop," watch out. That's just how I feel lately for a variety of reasons I won't bore you with.

 

I was so psyched that my housekeeper is coming tomorrow. The house is trashed. Then I remembered hubby scheduled the workers to put in the hardwoods in the study for tomorrow. I don't know how beneficial it would be to have someone cleaning, while other people are just making a mess. Counterproductive. So I cancelled her. Waiting another week. Fine then.... I'll just get a rag and the Windex and do it myself! (Kidding people..... I do that quite often.)

 

Next topic -- food. I struggle with my oldest daughter on a daily basis with food. Yes, I know you are not supposed to make food an issue. I know you are supposed to sit at the dinner table and talk about anything but food. BUT I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE! This kid doesn't eat. And don't say, "She'll eat when she's hungry." I've tested that theory. Not so much. She'll drink water and that's it. I don't want to kill the kid so eventually, I cave. I have tried the game where she must try at least one polite bite of everything on the plate. It turns into a cry-fest of proportions that deserve an Oscar nomination--the drama is just unreal. (Mental note... find a drama class for kids. This kid's a shoe-in.)

 

Anyway, this is her menu. This is all she has eaten, pretty much, since going off jar food which I hung onto until she was about 2. Sad, but true.

 

Cheese. Shredded or deli-sliced only.

Pepperoni. Alone, but not on pizza.

Tortillas.

Macaroni and cheese. Shell kind only.

Pizza - cheese only.

Chicken nuggets.

Fish sticks.

Bread.

Yogurt.

Jello.

Pudding.

Apple Jacks.

Peanut butter. Not with jelly. Plain.

Crackers.

Spaghetti. Only with marinara and there better not be one chunk or speck of oregano or she flips.

Waffles.

Cinammon rolls.

Any candy or sugary snack within grabbing distance. Sweets.... just about anything.

 

This is it. Every day, every meal. Over and over. Note there is not a fruit or vegetable in sight. Tonight, I tried to get her to eat strawberries. Even with whip cream. No sale. I got out apples and carmel dip. She licked the carmel dip. I finally convinced her to take a bite. She started crying and screaming, spitting it out and going crazy, like I had given her glue or something. It's just a freaking apple! You must chill! I got so mad that I just took the plate and dumped it in the trash. She then has the audacity to ask for a treat. I told her to go sit on the couch and don't ask that question again for six weeks. She goes to sit on the couch. About a minute later, she asks, "Is six weeks going to happen tonight?" Oh the joys of motherhood......

 

Then I have the opposite problem with my baby. She eats anything and everything she can get her hands on. Don't get me wrong--no complaints. She is healthy and has the good kind of baby chubbiness to her. But if I don't get the food on the high chair fast enough, this kid hits high C like you've never heard before. It's like I am constantly putting food on her plate. And then, when she's finished and sees us eating, she wants to climb in our laps for more. I guarantee you she eats more than her oh-so-skinny sister, and some nights, even more than me. Wow!

 

Sometimes it's just so hard to be a Mom. It's a constant state of exhaustion. On one hand, I'm so thrilled, happy, and proud they are mine. On the other hand, I just want to go up the stairs, hit the guest room, lock the door, crawl in bed and not be bothered for 3 days. Just sleep. Peace. Quiet. I want to eat a meal sitting down and all in one sitting. I want to watch good television before 10 p.m. when everyone else is settled. I want my kids to do what I say! I want my daughter to eat a plate full of veggies and ask for more. I want them to be just as fine having Daddy help them or put them to bed as they are me. Ok, well, sometimes.  I don't want to worry every minute of the day whether or not they are OK, being treated well, being fed enough, happy, being taught well, that kids like them.... that they like me.....that I'm not screwing all of this up. I worry about their futures. I worry about having enough money to do all they want....all they need....allI want for them. I want them to have great lives, better than I could have even imagined. I want them to feel safe and loved and be one of those daughters that one day says, "My mom is the greatest." I want them to know how much I love them and all that I sacrifice for them. I hope I always stay affectionate with them. My family wasn't affectionate. I hope I never stop saying, I love you. I hope they never stop saying it back.  So from dinner time to bath time..... to time out time... discipline... happiness.... dancing in the living room.... it's all so great, yet all so tiring at the same time. Sitting down and writing this blog is about the only alone time--other than my commute--I get anymore. Maybe that's one of the reasons I feel like a pressure cooker lately!

 

Then hubby says this morning, "Our bathroom is a wreck. It's borderline public restroom." Key word there -- our. Just like cooking, is it because I have boobs that I'm supposed to be the one to clean it? I don't get it. I won't go on a rant about husbands but I am training mine each day to do nothing. I do the cooking, shopping, cleaning, laundry, feed and dress kids, primary caregiver to them. Oh yeah, and I work. He comes home every night to dinner on the table.... it might be a simple meal....but it's dinner. Tonight's menu? Pork tenderloin with potatotes and carrots, green beans, and salad. All waiting for him. Did I get a thank you? Not a bit. Is there still a mess in the kitchen? You betcha. Will I clean it? Right now..... Am I training him the wrong way? Hell yeah.

 

Pressure cooker? Hmmmm..... wonder why.

 

Deep breath. Breathe..... breathe.....

 

MOM...... MOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That's Kate, calling for me........

 

Breathe. In.... out......

 

He better not have poured the last glass of Pinot Grigio that was in the fridge.

 

That might just be the final pressure point that causes an explosion of proportions this town has never witnessed before.

 

..... Til next time.

 

(Oh, you may have noticed no more pics. Hubby felt it was a safety/privacy issue. Sadly, I had to agree. So, to any stalkers/psychos/sickos out there..... you're outta luck. To those of you who enjoyed seeing my kiddos, thank you. I loved showing them off, and they may make a guest appearance now and again in thumbnail format. But for now, doing this keeps me from going private,... we'll see.  Sad the world is so untrustworthy..... I think by now you know what I look like. If not, then just picture Jennifer Aniston..... a lot like that. LOL.)

What to write about.

 

I think I am "written out" if that makes sense.

 

I have 3 deadlines--ship week--in a month due to the fact that I am working on several publications at once. My mind is a blank when it comes to being creative. However, I feel the need to update the blog. Why.... I'm not sure... but I do.

 

So, this will short....

 

I think it's funny to see how people find my blog. So far, Invisalign, swimsuits, and Jitterbug are what have brought them here recently.

 

I got a raise. Not a huge one, but a raise nonetheless. I went straight to HR and had it set up to go into my 401K. Don't miss what you don't have, right?

 

I am completely wiped out from my weekend. I didn't do anything that strenuous, but my 13 month old was a handful. Part of it is that she's walking and I can't have her out of my sight for even a second. Another part is that she is very stubborn and, well, angry a lot it seems. I feel like I'm fighting her all the time. It's weird to think you are "fighting" a baby.

 

Went shopping a bit on Saturday and got a cool dress from Banana Republic to wear to an upcoming wedding Kate got one, too. She was as cute as can be. I love the way she chooses dresses. If it has a good "twirl factor" then it's a contender. It was funny to watch her curtsy in the mirror. Even funnier to think that she really believes she will be doing that in the dress. Eh, knowing her, she probably will. She has requested gloves to go with it. Please.

 

The guy comes today to finalize plans on the arbor. Construction should begin in a week or so. I'm so excited. Problem is, I can't be here so I have to depend on hubby to "get it right." He better.... that's all I have to say about that.

 

Sunday was a weird day for me. I felt like I was getting sick, but I don't feel like it today. I was just so tired. I don't know why. I just moved from room to room with the kids and would lie down while they played. Maybe it was a tinge of depression. I don't know. I felt like a bad mom, though. Like I should be out at the park with them or something. It was weird. I think it annoyed hubby. I can't explain it. When they went to sleep -- finally -- I watched some of the Oscars. I thought Jessica Alba and Felicity Huffman looked great. Reese did, too. And George.... well..... that man has got it going on! I wonder though, when he was on the Facts of Life if he ever even imagined being an Oscar winner, director, and owner of a villa in Italy. He's come a long way since Tootie, Blaire, and the gang.....

 

Well, today is D Day at work -- final ship day, deadline day and my section had to be re-done on Friday b/c the design wasn't good -- not my fault -- but I have to wait on it today and make sure everything is right with it. A bit stressful, to say the least.

 

I have to head out with the kiddies. A venti Starbucks is deinitely in order, and deserved, today. I hope it turns out to be a great week. I'm ready for Spring. Ready to start working out more, walking, etc. I need to get some energy and positive vibes going. Send any my way, if you have some handy!

 

'Til next time....

 

 

I miss dancing.

 

I don’t think about it much anymore, now that I’m an old boring married lady with kids. When I think back, it used to be such a big part of my life. In college, dancing was the thing to do when we went out, which was more than half of every week. It started on Wednesday night—ladies’ night at our favorite bar. We would get in free and hit the bar for power hour—50 cent drinks. And power up, we did. If a guy asked us to dance, great. Even better though was getting out on the floor together as a group of friends. The more we drank, the more we danced. The more we danced, the more attention we got. The more attention we got, the more we danced. And so forth. We repeated the scene Friday and Saturday.

 

Funny, I have never dated a guy who could dance. I grew up dancing. My Dad taught me to two-step when I was about 7. Cotton-Eyed-Joe, Bunny Hop, Two-Step…. Texas is home to these dances, and they are a part of my soul. I’ve memorized every step. Growing up, it was just natural to get on the floor and Jitterbug whether at a school dance, a rodeo, or eventually at 'da club. In college, finding a guy who could Jitterbug was like finding a diamond in the rough. Cute or not, it was just fun to dance with him all night. One of my favorite parts of country dancing was when I’d get the opportunity to dance we a real cowboy—not a poser—with the worn boots, a big belt buckle, and a nice-fittin’ hat. I would always know he was a true gentleman if he would ever so slightly tip up his hat so my head would “fit” just under his and not be “brimmed.” It was nice to just lean on him and have him lead me across the floor, whether to a Waltz or Two-Step, and not worry about stepped-on toes or any sort of awkwardness. Those guys were rare, even in West Texas--too many city boys away for college trying to act country in a west Texas town.

 

You would think that if dancing was so important to me that I’d require it in a mate. I guess not. My husband, the trooper that he is, agreed to take dance lessons with me before our wedding so that he would appear at least somewhat adept during our first dance at our reception. It was such a fun time. We’d meet at class after work, try to figure out the steps, and then have a burger at Sonic. Those were the days. Every once in awhile, he’ll swallow his pride and hit the dance floor with me at a wedding. I know he hates it, but he does it anyway. He’s let me take a spin on the dance floor with his friends who can dance, too. I love it that he’s not jealous and just wants me to have a good time. One of my favorite memories is my 29^th birthday. We went to eat at a romantic restaurant and then had a drink at a nice hotel in a bar located on the top floor overlooking the city. He actually asked me if I wanted to dance, and we did. It was nice, and it meant a lot that it was his idea.

 

Sometimes I’ll hear a song and my memory will go straight back to a night out with the girls, and I can still picturing us dancing to it, laughing, try to look like we were “all that.” I remember sitting at the bar, sipping drinks…. and then when our favorite song came on (Ace of Base anyone?), rushing to the dance floor to enjoy every second of it. Sometimes, when we were particularly full of ourselves, we’d even get on the stages and dance above everyone, acting like we owned the place. I think of it now and can’t believe I’d do such a thing. I think I'm turning red just thinking about it. At least I was thinner then......

 

Sometimes when I’m driving back home, I’ll turn on a country station just for a change of pace. Inevitably, I’ll be reminded of home and of dancing to that particular song. It makes me a little homesick—for my youth as a kid living in a small, safe town and dancing with my dad on the sidewalk, learning a new dance; for college…glory days; and for home in general.

 

My husband recently bought a Johnny Cash CD, after seeing the movie Walk the Line. I grew up listening to Johnny Cash, but he is just discovering the greatness that is his music. Anyway, our daughter Kate also loves the music. She already knows the words to many of the songs. A few nights ago, we turned off the television and put the CD on. Kate was doing her usual dancing through the house. Olivia, the baby, was thrilled to be able to join her now that she can walk. She started dancing, her little diaper bottom bobbing up and down in time to the music of Walk the Line. She was smiling and clapping her hands. I joined in with them, and hubby videoed all of it. It was fun.

 

It made me remember dancing, and how fun it is to just get out there. I was browsing the web the next day and ran across a fitness video which is essentially a workout video through dancing. Now that’s something I might stick to and something my kids can do with me, well, sort of. So I bought it. I plan on giving it a try this weekend. Maybe that’s the key to losing the five pounds I can’t seem to get rid of!

 

It seems like a million years ago when it was common to call up a friend and ask, “Are ya’ll going dancing tonight?” or “Let’s go out dancing tonight!” I can’t even imagine doing that now. In fact, if I did go dancing, I think I might feel kind of stupid and well, old.

 

And on the topic of dancing, I have never watched an episode of Dancing with the Stars until the finale this season. I was hooked. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. I loved watching them dance, and so did my daughter. It was really entertaining and great motivation to start a starvation diet—have you seen those girls? Wow.

 

Anyway…. dancing. Good memory. I suppose I’ll leave it to the confines of my living room now these days, though. Anything else would require getting dressed up, going out, getting a sitter, and risking injury to an important limb. And that’s too many “steps” for this tired, 30-something mom. However, I do feel the need to boogie onto bed right now. So, 'til next time......