It's been normal around here. Which means chaotic, exhausting, fun, exhilarating, and a whole bunch of routine. Oh and a birthday thrown in. Mine.

No. No parties. No alcohol. No fancy dinner. Just me, the kids, conference calls, emails, dinner, and a bit of off-key singing and a cake that my son decorated with these cool new pen cake decorating things. Seriously, nothing says I Love You, like a cake that says, "I (heart) U Mom" written in a 5 year old hand writing. It melts me as I recall it's half-eaten state right now. It was a simple birthday, but one that was bitter sweet. It made me remember what was important--and it sure ain't the pile of work that I did for the bulk of the day.

Which brings me to my two-bit blogging break. Yeah. It's been like that lately. I can't take a piss in my very own bathroom without interruption, so blogging has been the secret step child I haven't had time to care for. Thus some vacation days. There's gonna be more folks. It can't be helped. I'd explain more, but I'd have to kill you. Let me just whisper, "Day Job and Employment I Would Like To Keep" really softly. Sorry. Can't say more. But know I am working through it. Somehow.

So now it's almost 11pm and I'd rather be in bed sleeping than do anything else. The glories of infant motherhood. Oh and almost a Kindergartner. That's another post in the making that I am sure will appear in the next week. The Kiddo's first day of school. First. Day. Ever. A whole week away. I'll either be cheering and dancing down the street. Or in the fetal position at the school doors all day long. Place your bets now--as it's any one's guess at the moment.

Until I find the time to write that reflective post, or get a whole 10 minutes of down time, I bid you adieu.

Labels: birthdays, blog, life, me

10:48 PM | Permalink | 3 comments

Don't worry, it's not just you. I've been messing around. In a re-design that is. One that's been in the making for a while. And no, this isn't the teaser-announcement. That'll come in a few days. After a few book reviews.

Glad the construction didn't scare you away.

Labels: blog, Internet

5:35 PM | Permalink | 1 comments

The rating itself isn't that funny--I mean, it is actually probably quite accurate. But the reasoning for the rating? Well that is hilarious. Apparently the presence of the word Hell (three times) and zombie (once) constitutes parental guidance. I wonder how many times I need to say fuck to get me to an R-rating?

[you know I am kidding right? I mean, I wouldn't swear needlessly just for a more severe parental rating. Would I?]

Labels: blog, fun, Internet, meme

1:35 PM | Permalink | 2 comments

Check out the post, New Motherhood is a Bitch over at Mary Castillo's My Best Friend's Baby. It's my guest blog post. I'm quite pleased with it myself. Here's a bit of a teaser:

"...during it all, I just really wanted someone to talk to. Someone who was also new to motherhood, who understood, and could tell me that walking into parenting isn't always an easy process. That most days you will be a walking zombie. You'd be judged and guilt ridden. And completely winging it most (and every) days."

See the entire post here.

And Mary--thank you so much for the opportunity!

Labels: blog, guests, motherhood, parenting

10:40 AM | Permalink | 1 comments

This isn't the first time either--or the last. It comes with the territory or writing, publishing (someday!), working, motherhood, and that little thing called marriage. We are continually bombarded with things to do. And for me, blogging has always been my warm up exercise.

I use blogging to drag the muse out of my brain and free thoughts from brain to fingers. Some days it works, others, not-so-much. But I do know it is forcing me to attempt to write every day--and that one advantage, will keep me blogging. Does it take time from my real writing time? Sure, but so does watching television, reading, playing the the children, eating, sleeping, and all the things we do every day as humans. Just add blogging to the rotation and continue on to the next item on the list.

And if you think I am kidding my morning has been full of all things motherly--nursing a child, diaper changes, making meals for children, playing Candyland with the eldest, more nursing, a trip to the grocery store and post office, nursing again, and now finally I was able to get the youngest to nap and The Kiddo occupied with markers and paper at the table beside me. I shoveled in the warmed can of ravioli that I had simmering and now? I write. And this is how I start. Which, with a new infant, shows you how erratic my schedule is right now. Sometimes I am writing at midnight, five in the morning. Or basically any hour of any day to get some writing done. And with that--well, I need to get writing. You know, real writing.

Labels: blog, writing, writing life

1:25 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

Now this is a surprise. I've been nominated and placed on the Mother's Day Central top 100 mommy blogs.



[insert gasp here]

Really. The proof is in the pudding, the entire list is here, so check it out. I am a little speechless (even at #86). Honestly, I made a list that has Dooce, Mom 101, and Mommy off the Record on it? Hell, I think I need to get a drink (oh calm down, it's milk folks! I remember I'm pregnant!).

Labels: award, blog, motherhood

9:49 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

.... if only I could get off my lazy, no good ass! Really. Well, maybe not.

I really do have good intentions of getting back onto the blog bandwagon, but life has thrown me into a spiral of self-centered goodness and I can't resist. I've managed to catch up on some television. Enjoy some quality time with my son. And procrastinate on the book revisions I should be pouring over this very second (but see? Procrastination can really work! Now I'm updated the languishing blog!).

Honestly, I've never been one to completely ignore responsibility. At least not until recently. I keep a good handle on the house, family, home, and work stuff, but as of late, all other stuff has landed on the way-side (or more accurately somewhere in deep space). Really, I'd be the one staying up late to finish the polishing touches on a report due next week. The perfectionist that would rather spend my evening working on a presentation instead of mining a spot on the couch. Or even a working mother who writes novels in her spare time. Lately, I'm concerned all of the above is nothing more than a speck of my imagination. I can barely keep my eyes open a moment past dinner.

Anyway, this is my pledge to make a better blog experience. Maybe not Pulitzer polished prose. Or topics of any consequence. But hell, at least I'll be posting somewhat regularly. And maybe (just maybe), I'll get the endless revisions done on the book. There's hoping right?

Labels: blog, life, writing

7:59 AM | Permalink | 0 comments

After the end-of-the-year holidays things get hazy. I blank out on all things called responsibility and making money and, um, enjoy some dedicated family time. This year was no exception. I spent more quality breakfast with my son and husband than every before and we we only missed afternoon nap time once (and by nap time I mean family nap time). Not once did I lose my cool, and not even twice did I think that the decision to stay home this season wasn't difference. It's going to be the new rule.

Anyway, not to waste valuable Internet blogging space writing about nothing, I'll share some tidbits of the recent holiday/family/new home adventures.


Receiving a collect calls from the local detention center (prison) from "Louie."

Why I received the call is as much a mystery to me as you. But, I was so freaked out, I didn't even listen to all of the recorded woman's voice announcing the caller to learn how to block the damn call. I just shrieked and slammed the phone onto the counter. Oh and demanded the husband answer the phone. Always. And forever.

That lasted until this evening when "Louie" tried a repeat call. The husband obliged to my demands and answered the call. He calmly listened to the recording and blocked any future calls from the facility. Now, we just need to hope no family members get into any trouble with the law.


Apparently, the kiddo has a new found fascination for clouds. Especially ones shaped like flowers, dinosaurs, ships, snowflakes, and worms. I would have loved to join him and his imagination but I was trying to focus on driving into the office the day after a long holiday break.

But the running commentary of the adventures in the sky called Cloud Animals is suppose to continue tomorrow. "So stay tuned," as the kid says, "to Kid Junior."


Speaking of imagination and the kid, have you heard any 4 year old jokes lately? Here's some to wet your noodle:

What do you call a bananas, apple, and orange?
What?
A fruit punch juice box.

Not funny enough try this one:

Knock, knock.
Who's there.
The dog.
The dog who?
The dog who just got sick on the carpet.

Yeah. I know. Knee slappers at best. The kid's making these all up on his own. Can't wait to hear what these evolve into when he is 10. I'm sure they'll include more fart and book jokes than I'd be willing to admit on my blog.


I'm officially back at work. Which means, I am officially in the midst of rewrites on the book as well. Which, then means, posts might be few and far between until I get these revisions out of my system.

Consider this the official announcement for my lack or blogging participation. But don't count on it lasting forever. I'll need a break every now and again. Which could mean more tidbits. Less thought. And even less insight than normal. Hang around, I promise it will get better. Eventually. At least my head will be out of the fog anyway.

Labels: blog, family, kid, me, parenting, writing life

11:23 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

The forthcoming posts about the new year, resolutions, dreams, goals, regrets are all about the flood the Internet. And I'm either slightly ahead of the game or behind--but I figure why not join in the madness?

I don't really do the whole January 1st resolution thing. Mostly because I hate the frigid coldness of this part of the year and don't particularly find it inspiring creatively or personally (catch me mid to late summer, and well, I am brimming with new ideas). So, I avoid the lack-luster, half-felt promises this time of year and tend to think backward. I look back at the previous year and collect my thoughts of thankfulness, what I have accomplished, and then take stock for warmer weather (get the headlights cleaned for when I do make my new year goals).

So to not wax too poetic on all the year end greatness (or new year beginnings) let me just say, here's all that I have done in 2006, The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly (in no particular order):

The Good

• Health, prosperity... all that mumbo jumbo.
  
• Finally, finally became comfortable with myself as a mom. Parenting style intact and solidifying. Kid growing into a young kid in front of my eyes. And well, just learning that I can parent half-way decently (if not down right fantastic at times). This even surprises me.
  
• Committed myself to my fiction writing. Continued to shop around my novel to agents (can anyone say query, query, query?)
• Found a lovely agent.
• Confidence to rework my novel a few times more.
• Sent my novel to submission. Real. Live. Editors. Looked. At. My. Book. Oh my. Anxious doesn't even describe it.
• Moved to a new city/state just because. Not because of a move. Or a bigger house. Or... well for any reason but because we wanted to. Family lives much (much closer). Cost of living isn't atrocious. And, well, just wanted to move.
• Found some time for myself. It's been damn hard to carve out that time, but it is damn worth it.
  
• Switched to another job. A more creative one. One that has me doing new things I hadn't done in the 11 years prior of my career. Well, except for the meetings. We always have those.
• I have a social life. One with nights out with friends. Ones where I can take the afternoon and head out for coffee without the kiddo tied to my leg.
• My new house. Really. I am at my breakfast bar right now, writing. Sipping coffee. Giving myself a pat on the back. Overall, I'm one lucky gal.
• Disney World. What a nice break from reality. Everyone should try it for a few days.
• Confidence. The High School Years. The ones I cowered in the corner blushing something fierce because I had something to say. Or the time when I just couldn't voice my opinion about the latest gossip. Those days are gone. I've learned to stand up for myself all around my life and take a bit of control. I mean, who are we living for if it isn't ourselves? (Sorry, that one got a bit too deep).
• Blogging. Complete entries all of last year. I waste as much time as the rest of you, don't I?
  
• Appreciating Hubby and Kid. Honestly, we've had some financial and personal stresses this year. And you know what? Well, they are THERE for me. And that can erase almost any badness beyond this bullet on the 2006 list.

The Bad

• Owning two homes right now. No one said that when I make a decision I am patient about it. Two mortgages are proof of that.
• Likelihood of having to take my house off the market til Spring. Honestly, can the house market be that bad.
• I'm driving a good 40 minutes each way to work (when before it was a whole 7 minutes door to door). Hey but the new digs? Definitely worth it.
  
• Kid's in day care almost full time. Or was. Now I am working with him a few days a week. One might think this is a blessing (the work at home thing)--and when he is sickly, it is. When he isn't, some days I wonder what the hell I got myself into. I wouldn't necessarily call this bad, but it isn't ideal.
• Weeks of house improvements, cleaning, and painting. Oh and moving itself. I hate the pack, move, and unpack routine. It kills me for months afterward.
• I'm gonna lose time off from work. Apparently I didn't let myself take enough vacation. And I suppose that in and of itself is a bad thing, ain't it?
• Kiddo's hospital visit (a first and hopefully last). Though thank God it wasn't life threatening.
• Too few trips North to see my parents, family, and friends. I've been too pre-occupied or otherwise obligated to take the drive to see everyone.
  

The Ugly

• The miscarriage. I really can't say anything more about this. I'll end up in a pile of mush. I mean losing a baby at 13 weeks is bad enough. But losing the baby 2 days AFTER you told your boss, co-workers, friends, and some extended family. Nightmare no matter what way you dice it.
• That damn weight gain again. It got worse after the miscarriage (didn't lose a pound of what I'd gained). It means I must exercise and I hate exercise. All of it. So unless some miracle way to stay aerobic is invented--one in which I enjoy the act of movement, I may have to give-in to my curves.

That's the 2006 recap. Or at least what was memorable--in more ways than one. The Good does out-weigh The Bad and The Ugly, so I know I'll be in for an even more memorable 2007. Or maybe that is just the optimist in me.

Labels: blog, holiday, kid, life, me, new year, parenting, writing life

6:05 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

Mrs. Chicken over at Chicken and Cheese made an offer: write a piece of a collaborative story via blog posts. I foolishly accepted. And below it is--in all its parts, by all its participants. If you want to join in, go ask her. The more that play, the more fun it will be!

And look! They named the cute kid after me! How thoughtful. Or coincidental. You decide.

Let the story begin....

(by Mrs. Chicken @ Chicken and Cheese)
I thought I saw him at the grocery store. It was raining that afternoon, and he had an umbrella. The red and white triangles that made up his portable shelter partly obscured his face, but I caught a glimpse of his eyes. Those eyes. Huge, blue and empty.

When he left me I remember searching their vast cerulean expanse for some sign, some flicker of love. It rained that day, too. Why does it rain when you lose someone you love? My tears left him unmoved. I don’t know why that surprised me.

The baby kicked in my cart and I let my gaze fall on her face. Her father’s eyes stared back at me. Green eyes, warm and full of life.“Mamma?” she said. “Mamma!”

(by Binky @ 24/7)
The question-turned-exclamation jarred me out of my reverie. There was pressure in my temples and behind the hazel tint of my colored contact lenses. "Mamma's here," I cooed. My voice was a manufactured kind of soothing. I leaned in and brushed a kiss over Bethany's forehead, where a drop of rainwater hung like the tiniest Swarovski pendant. Its chain was made of fine blond locks.

"What do you think, baby girl?" I asked as I pulled her into my arms. "Is it time to go home?" Her searching legs and center of gravity found all the right contours as she settled atop the jut of my hip. I tugged at her coat until the hood framed her face, then I stepped into the rain. A small deluge of water streamed off the curve of the lowercase "o" on the Save-A-Lot sign and landed at the back of my neck. I could feel the tag from my shirt sticking sharp and soggy to my skin.

I sighed against Bethany's face and tried to avoid the bigger puddles on our way to my twenty year old Civic, which was miraculously close. One row over and three cars ahead, I saw a familiar red and white umbrella spanning the gap between an open door and the driver's seat of a rusty 4Runner that had to be as old as my own piece of junk. They guy I'd mistaken for Paul sat sideways and watched the rain as he talked into a cell phone.

(by Tony @ Creative-Type Dad)
Hastily reaching into my purse holding Bethany firmly, I could faintly hear the sound of his voice. His mumbled words were almost too reminiscent of Paul’s. The way he laughed as he said “Gouda” into his plastic phone brought back imagery of the two of us, sitting together last winter on the living room floor, sipping Merlot watching “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous”. Occasionally Paul would jokingly burst out vocabulary in his comedic English accent – expressions like “Don Perignon!” and “Caviar Dreams!” oh, how I loved Caviar and that faux bear skin rug.

With keys finally in hand, stumbling to open the rusty car door, I could sense this stranger's stare against my cheek. His phone chatter abruptly ended and I could hear the sounds of squeaking cowboy boots crushing the wet pavement.

(by Occidental Girl @ The Occidental Tourist)
My mind was suddenly full of so many thoughts vying for my attention at the same time that I couldn't think straight.

It can't be him, I thought, no way. What would I say? What do I look like? What am I wearing???

The answers came in rapid succession: It could be him, it's okay if it's him because I'm not angry anymore; I could talk about my fulfilling life that I've enjoyed since knowing him, like this beautiful child I created with someone else, without him; I look like shit but since I'm too hard on myself in general, I probably look just fine; men - especially Paul - don't notice what women are wearing unless it's nothing at all. Then, they notice.

When you coincidentally encounter someone you loved once, a long time ago, the traitorous mind tends to retrieve only the good memories and leave the battles and frustrations out of it. This leaves us to wonder what in the world we ever thought was wrong and maybe it was a mistake to end the relationship. After all, doesn't every relationship have ups and downs? Ours certainly did. It was passionate, without a doubt, but in every area: the loving AND the fighting. It was when the fighting overtook the loving that we fell apart. I wonder if he ever thought about all of that, even now. Paul didn't seem to notice many thing unless they were stark - naked or otherwise.

And yet, here he was - maybe - coming over to talk after all this time.

I took a deep breath, then turned around.

(by Meg @ Mainely-Megin):

"Hey." He practically whispered.
Oh. My. God.
"Hi." Was it relief or despair?
"I wasn't sure you'd remember me."
"No, I..." Not Paul. Not Paul. Not Paul. Who the hell was it?
"Peter Johnston, I sat behind you in statistics freshman year."

Peter freakin' Johnston. I felt my pulse in my neck, and I focused my breathing the way I had 15 short months ago in labor. Not Paul.

Peter held his umbrella over me and the squirmy Bethany. Idle chat. Wife, 3 kids, new job, just moved into town, wife hasn't met anyone yet. Not Paul. Not Paul. Peter was bursting with the need to share his happiness, which allowed him to simply see an old acquaintance, not someone's former lover plagued by mere memory.

"Dinner sounds great, I'd love to meet Lisa and the kids."

With the baby buckled in and my door as close to closed as it got, I watched Peter close his own door. The rain rushed down the window and distorted the images. It blended the head and brake lights of the cars winding their way through the parking lot.

(by Bethany @ mommy writer):

The seven-thirty hour, the one right after dinner, is always the worst. Waiting for Daniel to come home, feeding and changing Bethany for bedtime, cleaning the kitchen. It's a nuisance and a routine all the same.

That is, until Daniel comes stumbling into the back door in nothing short of drunkeness.

"Hi honey," he chirped balancing himself against the cracked linoleum counter kicking off his shoes, "Sorry I'm late."

When isn't he late?

"S'okay," I look up from the over-used skillet I'd been tackling with a worn Scotch pad for the last 15 minutes, "Had a good time tonight?"

Daniel only tripped past my shoulder to the spaghetti, waiting in the stained Tupperware and fixed himself a plate of dinner.

It's just as well. I didn't have the energy to congratulate him on an obvious vaccuum sale. Not today. The office post-sale drinks in celebration are too habitual, if not an excuse. And it isn't as if he'd just made a commission worth writing home about. It was more like we'd be able to splurge on groceries. Or buy Bethany the expensive diapers.

"This is good," he chewed, spilling sauce to the edges of his lips. The edges I used to adore when he spent more time smiling.

"Bethany went to bed easily tonight," I said more to myself the Daniel. "For once anyway."

Daniel shoveled another tangle of noodles into his mouth. He was either too drunk to realize I was trying engage him in conversation, or plain ignoring me.

I rinsed the pot and placed it beside the sink where the drying rack should be, the one I was too lazy to take from the bottom cupboard. Patting my hands on the stretched blue jeans that hugged my legs for the last two days, I pecked my husband on the forehead and walked towards the bedroom.

Just before leaving the hallway, I called back to him, "Your nemisis, Peter Johnston is back in town. We're having dinner with him, wife, and kids this weekend."

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

Now, it's Heather's turn!

You guys are next:

Christy
Michelle
Mrs. Maladjusted
Kristi
Desitin's Child
Tater And Tot
Word Girl

Labels: blog, meme, writing prompt

7:37 PM | Permalink | 0 comments

#1. I'll be Internet-less for about 3 weeks! Well that is not totally true, I will have some Internet, just not broadband access for up to 3 weeks. Seems the cable company at the new place can't send someone any sooner to get the cable modem access to my house. But, I'm not bitter. Really. It's just my left arm that is being severed with each passing day.

#2. I've moved. Yep. Most of the belongings are at the new joint. My bones are tired. So are my muscles. And that pounding headache? It is still pounding.

In light of those recent announcements--expect less posts until I am again connected. And, unfortunately, my blog reading will be deadened. Hours via dial-up isn't good for my health (kinda like hours of blog reading at work doesn't sky-rocket one's career).

When I am again whole with 24 hour access to the virtual world at high speeds, I'll have writing updates. If I can't access e-mail, blogs, or the Internet every 5 minutes, then I will likely be writing. This could be a good thing.

Labels: blog, life, me, moving

11:15 PM | Permalink | 0 comments