skeeter & scooter....

alright, i know the kissy face is just dumb, but aren't we cute?  who wouldn't want to kiss us?  oh i know one person it would be cheating. no names, but this dear friend knows who they are.

anyway, this is heather.  i met her in sixth grade.  we instantly bonded, maybe it is because we have the same name?  maybe its because we both have dark hair?  maybe its because we both have very kissable lips?  or maybe it's just because we are both awesome?  i'm going with all of the above with a slight emphasis on the awesome.

heather and i had some much needed girl time last night.  just two long time, life time friends chilling on my freezing cold leather couch with a bottle of 14 hands merlot (good call heath), laughing our fannies off.  yes, much needed girl time.  a bottle of wine downed, the beginning of a new day quickly approaching and our conversation got pretty silly.

...it's not like you ask yourself "how does it feel" and then answer "feels good", because you are doing it yourself, you already know.  i am so glad i had just gone to bathroom and emptied the tank, because i would've peed myself.  heath and i were laughing so hard tears were streaming down our faces and we were gasping for breathe.  i'm not even sure how this subject came about, but it's the kind of conversation you can only have with a tried and true friend.

so here's the thing about friends you have known for your whole life.  you can talk about anything.  you have inside jokes.  you get each other's humor.  it's comfortable.  there is no pretending, or holding back, or sugar coating.  you just say what you need to say because it is safe.  you can also fall easily into the giggles without a ladder to escape. the type of friend where if you did pee yourself from excessive laughter you would simply laugh more. 

my friendship with heather is solid, deep and meaningful.  i love her for all the memories we have shared, for her continued friendship and support, and for everything we will face in the future.  i know that when we are 80, she will get there first because she is older, we will still be laughing our fannies off reminiscing.  however by the time we are 80 our false teeth will probably fall out from gaped mouth laughing, and if my teeth fall out i will for sure laugh hard enough to pee myself, but it will be okay because i will have on my adult diapers. oh what a sight we will be.

fueled by mommy juice....

breakfast.  the most important meal of the day, right?  i don't know.  i have heard that it is, but i am not usually hungry when i get up.  or an hour after i get up.  or even two hours after i get up.  i typically don't get hungry until about 10:00, this is four whole hours after i get up.  by the time ten rolls around i am sitting comfortably at my desk, but my stomach is eating itself, loudly protesting the lack of nourishment.

my mornings, fueled by several cups of mommy juice, aka coffee for all the non-mommies,  are a whirlwind.  from seven until nine it is a fast paced circus; juggling (cooking, dressing and dishes), taming of the lions (the constant bickering and bantering coming from adoring siblings), and of course a death defying tightrope walk (me tottering in heels carrying my lunch, a cup of coffee no lid, purse, and anything my kids have decided not to carry on their own).  a circus indeed.  thank heavens for the mommy juice.

i have been doing this working gig for a few years now, you would think that i would have this system down pat, but i don't.  i have never forgotten a meal for my kids, but i often forget my own nourishment.  i try to keep things on hand at work that i can keep at my desk that one won't attract critters and two that will keep.  oatmeal is one of those things.  a random tidbit i like hot food.  i am not a huge fan of cold food.  maybe this has to do with the fact that i am almost always shivering.  whatever the case, i like hot food, and oatmeal fits the bill.

i buy the giant case of quaker instant oatmeal  from costco, but my kids only eat two of the four flavors.  they refuse to eat the apple & cinnamon because of the apples.  i'm beginning to question if they are my children, that is my favorite part.  they also refuse to eat the plain, it just isn't sweet enough for them.  so what in the world is one to do with all those packets of plain oatmeal?  the answer is simple, add stuff to it.

as much as i would like to say this is my own creation, i cannot.  i saw it on pinterest.  no surprise there, it is my new go-to place for all things recipes. and fashion. and humor. and well everything.  this recipe is brought to you by: http://www.familyfeedbag.com/2011/03/banana-coconut-oatmeal.html.  i haven't perused the rest of the blog, but there seems to be other oatmeal add-ins that look just as delicious.

maybe i will be become a breakfast eater after all?   there are bound to be fall off the breakfast wagon days, but that's to be expected, right?  i know my circus isn't going away anytime soon, so i guess we will just see what other kind of late morning, make-at-work-easily breakfast concoctions i (or pinterest) comes up with. 

my two hairs...

in a few weeks i will be turning 36.  wow!  that number is starting to sound old.  i still feel like i am 25 or maybe 26.  for clarification i don't think i am old, because 35 almost 36 is definitely NOT old, the number is just starting to sound old.  thankfully i don't get too wrapped up in the number, unless you are talking about my scale and then it's all about the number. 

quick funny story about my scale.  first it isn't actually mine.  i am housing it for the redmon family while they are abroad.  it is a nice scale that you can program by entering your age, sex, height and it calculates your weight and bmi.  well i have never been able to figure out how to reprogram it so for the past two years "my" scale thinks i am a 37 year old man.  needless to say i don't pay too much attention to the bmi info, but i am guessing that the weight is pretty accurate. 

anyway, as i am continually aging i am noticing more and more changes.  some are not so bad.  in fact i personally think i am aging quite well.  thanks mom and dad. 

high school, probably senior year, at holden village

february 2011  

as you can see i haven't changed too much.  a few more wrinkles around my eyes, but i don't mind those.  same nose, no plastic surgery there.  same creases defining my cheekbones, although i have lost some of the chubbiness in my face.  and there is that smile, see i've been smiling that way my whole life, so smile haters need to just zip it. 

through the face it isn't so bad, from the chin down is another story.  there is something horrifying when you combine gravity and a loss of elasticity.  i'm not really sure what is happening except that i feel like i need a spanx bodysuit.  a giant compression garment that will hold everything up, and tight and maybe it might even improve my circulation and i won't be so cold.  or maybe i need to just even out my right side up and upside down time?  walking on my hands isn't a skill i have ever mastered so this might be challenging, but if i could coax my skin to find my chin  a little more often instead of sagging to my toes it might just stay put. 

however, even the sagging skin, butt, boobs, knees and elbows are okay.  it is a part of aging and i could do more if i wanted.  not plastic surgery just good old fashioned exercise.  so what spurned this wednesday revelation about getting older and changes?   two hairs.  two hairs that i have never noticed before.  two hairs that i quickly yanked out.  they weren't gray, or weird curlies in a new place, or even very long, but they were definitely not going to stay.

these two hairs i found on my chin!  yes my chin!  oh my word!  as i get older i find i don't get super close to the mirror anymore and i never use that magnified mirror, some things are just better left from afar.  my mind was racing...how long have those hairs been there?  since they weren't too long, not long enough to blow in the wind, i'm thinking these are relatively new.  has anyone else noticed them and just not said anything?  do i have other weird facial hair that shouldn't be there?  is there hair in my ears?  this is usually a male thing, but i am paranoid now. 

as you can imagine i pulled out that magnifying mirror and examined my entire jaw line.  my lineage is italian and german and i have my fair share of body hair.  my kids have never had lice, but i was wishing i had a lice comb so i could fluff up my peach fuzz and see if there were any long strays trying to hide.  today, i only found the two.  a campfire song popped in my head

she had two hairs upon her head (chin came to mind)

one was alive and the other was dead

callame a mallame ookistan a waa waa okimoka mo was her name

i guess i am going to have to start looking for rogue hairs.  i am guessing that they are going to start popping up in strange places; back of my arm, shoulder, maybe the bikini area will start creeping down my legs.  i have no idea what to expect, but just a warning all you rogue hairs,  i am on to you. 

catch my breath...

still makes me catch my breath...

there are people who enter my life, whether it be brief or eternal, that are so special i can't put into words what they mean to me.  a person that i just feel connected to.  for some strange reason, one that i cannot even begin to explain, we are connected by something that is bigger than us.

still makes me catch my breath...

sometimes there are sights that are so awesome and amazing they leave me gobsmacked.  i have been looking at the moon for as long as i can remember, but the other night the moon was so incredible i had a moment of breathlessness.  i love that even everyday normal occurrences still impact me and remind me that i am small in this incredibly large world.

still makes me catch my breath...

 

hate.  hate is everywhere.  you can't escape it.  i think to some degree we as humans expect there to be hatred and awful crimes committed against other humans. when the media brings to our attention hatred it saddens my heart.  there is comfort knowing that we aren't immune to it.  if there is ever a day when we as humans are immune to hate i do not want to exist in this world anymore. 

 

still makes me catch my breath...

when either of my children slip their hand into mine or wrap their arms around me unexpectedly, i pause for a moment, close my eyes and drink in the moment.  these moments are happening less frequently as they get older, but i still love them. 

there are many things in this world that still make me catch my breath.  some of those things are good and some are not so good, but it is a reminder that i am alive, digesting the world as it comes.  

just sinead it...

one of my guilty pleasures is getting my haircut.  guilty pleasure?  i suppose it doesn't really seem like a guilty pleasure but it is one of the only things that i do just for me.  my kids don't get to come, i leave my phone in the car, someone else washes my hair and for one blissful hour i get pampered.  guilty pleasure indeed.

i adore my stylist, charlotte.  a dear friend of mine, stephanie, introduced me to charlotte, ten years ago when i was pregnant with P.  i have been seeing her ever since.  i have never cheated on her nor have i ever considered finding a new stylist.  charlotte is perfect.

i religiously get my haircut every 8-10 weeks, depending on what i am doing with my hair.  currently i am growing it, which charlotte has not let me forget, even when i beg just cut it i can't stand it.  somehow being a single mom, with very limited time, and an even more limited disposable income i have not made it into the salon since june.  yes june of 2011!  i have made several appointments but something always seems to come up; sick kids, snow days, earthquakes not really but it seemed more dramatic.  anyway,  i finally made it in.

for those of you who have a regular stylist you will understand that they are very similar to a therapist or best friend.  you tell them all your dirty secrets, you share your current events, you celebrate, you cry, and you share advice on anything and everything.  seeing your stylist is an hour long therapy session with one awesome benefit, you walk out looking fabulous.  i say this every time make me look fabulous.

however this time i started with i am ready for my lashing.  here's the deal folks i have committed atrocious crimes against my hair.  i don't spend money on quality shampoos and conditioners or styling products, i used to but i don't have that kind of money anymore.  i blow dry it everyday, this is really hard on your hair.  then i take an iron to it and scare the curls away, even harder on your hair.  i do use an iron designed to be used on your hair.  i haven't gone totally ghetto and use my clothes.  one i am not flexible or talented, i am likely to remove my ear or a huge section of hair.  besides i think this is a two person job and my kids are probably more inept than i would be.  yeah, that idea has disaster written all over it.

with all these crimes i have committed i was ready for charlotte to say we are just going to have to sinead it.  i told my boss before i left that i may come back bald.  he told me that wouldn't be good my head isn't shaped right. huh?  i never thought about my head shape.  so i sat in the chair almost nervous.  thankfully she couldn't see that my hands were clamped together in a grasp that would've taken tools to undo.  instead of the sinead look she said you are still growing it right?  let's just trim it up.  phew!  although i was prepared for a dramatic bald look, i'm not sure it is the best look for me. *wink*

well, as always i walked away looking fabulous.  being the master stylist charlotte is, i left with a cute curled hairdo that she accomplished with the flat iron.  i am still in awe of how to do this, i won't be trying that skill at home. i thoroughly enjoyed my hour of guilty pleasure, i definitely needed the pampering.  i can't wait for my next appointment at the end of may.  maybe i will make a countdown paper chain? 

thank you charlotte!  you are the best!!

my mary poppins bag...

michelle, myself (looking like the center for the basketball team), hope, heather, katie and angie

i recently spent an evening with my favorite lake town girls, sans keri.  we got together to celebrate heather's thirty something birthday.  during our super fun night, i was given an idea on a blog post.  i carry a really big purse and it is full of really random things.  most of them i don't use, but sometimes they come in handy.  michelle requested that i list everything that i carry in my purse.  so here we go...

1.  a yellow make up bag.  i received it from my sis for christmas and it has a plethora of lip products.  chapsticks to lip glosses and a mirror.
2.  two pens and a pencil
3.  two packs of gum.  one is empty the other is brand new.  i chew gum a lot.  my favorite kind is 5, flavor solstice.  guess i can take the empty package out.
4.  a grocery list.  i make list after list but rarely refer to them.  i must've been making something good because this particular list has some yummy things on it.
5.  a receipt.  i'm actually surprised there aren't more, just one.
6.  movie ticket stubs.  the vow and the lorax
7.  future of flight tour ticket... this was a field trip with my daughter's class.  very cool field trip
8.  jet city pizza coupon...my mom likes this pizza
9.  my parking ticket stub...P4 in the Hyatt.  this was the most confusing thing ever, but i was able to find my car.
10.  gift cards; target, fred meyer and starbucks i have no idea if any of them work, guess i should figure that out.
11.  an old health insurance card for my kids. 
12.  a box top.  i collect them everywhere, put them in my purse and sometimes remember to turn them in before they expire.
13.  a head lamp.  this i use quite a bit, sometimes just to find my keys in my purse when it is dark
14.  darts, i always carry my darts just in case there is a dart board around
15.  a pad of paper, you never know when you will need to write something down.
16.  a packet of kleenex, thank you mom. 
17.  a bottle opener
18.  a tampon...i am woman of child birthing age

then i have another purse.  yes another purse, this one has it's own contents.

1.  a clown nose.  i used to have two, but i've lost one somewhere
2.  a pink ping pong ball
3.  a rubber severed finger
4.  a lag bolt
5.  a plastic baggie with sunblock, hand sanitizer, and hair stuff
6.  another plastic baggie with more lip stuff
7.  tums
8.  dental floss
9.  a lady bug lip gloss
10.  a mini stapler
11.  a shower cap-unused
12.  lotion
13.  part of a button to my jeans
14.  two green ribbons from a memorial service i attended last year.

as you can probably guess my bag weighs a lot.  sometimes i do notice how much it weighs, but i haven't been able to condense this stuff down.  the weird stuff i keep because it makes me giggle when i remember i have it or run across it searching for my keys. the essentials i keep because they are essentials.  i still have room for more things, like my sweater that i bring but don't wear or a bottle of water.  my mary poppins bag of tricks will need to be replaced soon.  i have a couple of back ups, but they don't hold all my random trinkets as well as this one does.  sigh

intense hostility...

there are two things in this world that i absolutely hate.  i know hate is a really strong word, but hate is exactly what i mean.  webster defines hate as intense hostility and aversion usually deriving from fear, anger or sense of injury.  yes, i think hate is exactly the word i am looking for. 

so what could they be?  what are the two things that i absolutely hate?  well i will tell you.  deviled eggs and scouring the bathtub.  i hate both of these things more than i can explain, but i am going to try and explain my disdain so that maybe you can understand. 

let's start with deviled eggs.  being the good midwestern girl that i am, i should really like deviled eggs.  deviled eggs grace every celebration table in the midwest.  you will always find them at a potluck, buffet, or any other large gathering.  there is even a special serving dish for this favorite of many. 

i will admit that the presentation is delightful.  the egg is split in half, the hotdog way or lengthwise if you are over the age of 8.  the white part is pristine white, with a glisteny or dewy look to it with a perfect scoop taken from the middle.  that perfect scoop is filled with a fluffy cloud like dollop of the brightest cheeriest yellow.  the yolk has always reminded me of pudding and to be honest a savory pudding would be 100 times better than the yolk.  a lot of times a sprinkling of terra cotta red is sprinkled on top of the yellow.  yes the presentation is delightful.

here's my issue with deviled eggs.  one, i don't like the yolks once they turn into a solid.  it doesn't matter if you mash it up and mix it with other things, once it turns into a solid i hate it.  two, you mix it with mayonnaise.  i can't think of a grosser thing than mayonnaise. it's an ixnay on miracle whip too.  so with those two things combined the hard yolk and the mayonnaise, when i bring this delicacy to my mouth my gag reflex kicks in and my hand stops midair.  i cannot physically put that darn thing in my mouth.  may sound silly but it's true. 

i suppose if i was stranded on an island and by some horrible twist of fate the only food was deviled eggs and my choice was to eat the egg or die, i would most likely find a way to eat the egg.  i would most likely wait it out for as long as i could and then choke one or two down, but i'm not sure if i could ever find a way to enjoy it.  however, i am not in danger of dying by starvation so i will let my reflex kick in and pass on the deviled eggs. 

now we are on to scouring the tub.  i honestly can't think of anything worse than cleaning the bathtub.  i admittedly put it off, which means when i finally get to it, it is a chore from h-e-double hockey sticks.  when i sit back and look at this task logically it isn't much different than scouring the sink and that task i don't mind so much.  however, the tub is at least ten times bigger, but feels one hundred times bigger than the sink. 

there are many reasons why i hate scouring the tub.  first i can't figure out the best way to clean it.  i know a lot of people who clean the tub while they are showering...this seems like a good idea, but i can't seem to figure this out.  when i shower, i want to shower, stand in that hot stream of water until the water gets cold, not clean.  this means i am sitting on the edge of the tub dressed and sweating because it is so much work to clean the tub.  second, it never seems to be really clean.  i scrub and scrub and scrub and there is some weird shadow of scum that doesn't seem to want to leave the tub. 

i swear like a sailor while i am scrubbing the tub.  profanities flow from my mouth like water from a faucet.  obviously this means i have to clean my tub when the kids are not home.  i curse at my tub like i'm trying to scare it into submission and just be clean f*@# you stupid tub.  okay so i need a little work in scaring the tub through my curse words, but you get the idea.

i think i hate scouring the tub more than deviled eggs because i have to scour the tub on a somewhat regular basis.  i can choose not to eat deviled eggs, but if i chose not to scour i would have a science project of epic proportion on my hands.  so if you ever plan on visiting my house, please give me a heads up so i can properly clean the m&*(^%r  f%$#ing shower.