A little sick.

Home sick. It's such a bittersweet experience whenever I go back to where my baby roots were laid. Easton. Whoa, how far am I away from that place? Not just in the physical sense, but also emotionally. Maturity has taken on a new meaning since leaving the nest. Could I have ever even really grown up there? I don't think I was capable of escaping the preconceived ideas of who and what I would have become had I stayed in that god forsaken town. That town, county, place would have swallowed me up like a tornado devours a trailer park in Kansas. I can't even fathom where I would have lived, who I would have shared my life with; going there is unimaginable. A whole other place in time, my life, my person, my heart is so completely different than that tough party girl that didn't need anyone to get her through the night. Ever.

So why do I yearn for the smell of fresh potato dirt? Why do I reminisce about the Fry Pan? Why do I even want to relive those moments of despair and uncertainty? I honestly have no idea. It's not so much I want to relive the life I had there as much as it is the wanting to relive a different experience. Does that make sense? And though I must stress I have little regrets, life is just too short for that, I do wish for a day. Just one day in which I could be the person I am now. Just one day where I wasn't the confused, hurt, angry, tough, mean, intolerable person that was on the brink of crumbling at any given moment.

I would be nice to everyone. I would be compassionate to the struggles of others, especially the people who had gone through the same things that I was wrestling with to forget. I wouldn't get stoned (as much, lol). I would laugh out loud and not think even once about Bobby Dionne or the Fry Pan road. I would walk with confidence and hang out with all of the people that would have been supportive had I not pushed them all out of my life by being a tyrannical monster. I wouldn't try to compete. period. I would be home on time for dinner and play Yahtzee with my mum.

These are the things I think about when I'm sick like this. I say bittersweet because I couldn't ever fit into that mold I once wore, yet I miss the time I had there. I miss the innocence of growing up because I had no idea at the time how precious it was and tried so hard to be worldly and knowledgeable that I missed it. And now I have to live with the memory, or lack there of, that it has become. And sometimes there is.....just a little regret.

Update!

Still loving the Dyson. I am so impressed with the excellent performance of this product. I am seriously thinking I ripped Mr. Dyson off....I can't even deal with how happy I feel since our introduction.



We have a wood stove inserted into our fire place to supplement due to the rising cost of heating fuel. It not only gives us more bang for our buck but saves us a bundle to boot. The only problem is the dust and crud that comes along with them and I felt our home was beginning to smell all together too woodsy for my taste. Now that I have a Dyson my problems are solved. I vacuum every single morning and am amazed the the amount of dust and animal hair that comes off my living room oriental. Just from one day.

My husband thinks I'm losing my mind and has offered to leave me and the Dyson alone on occasion in case I needed to...um...have some private time. He doesn't do the majority of the cleaning around here so of course he doesn't understand the bombdigityness of my new savior. I have done half the normal dusting this week because of my Dyson, half the sweeping of floors because it works better on them anyway. I'm motivated every single morning to do my housework simply because the first thing I do is vacuum and pick up the living room, from there it just explodes into cleaning the whole house and I'm not even mad about it. Mostly because it takes me half the time to do the same job. That extra time affords me to cuddle the cutest little baby girl around these here parts all the more.

So...I couldn't go one more day without saying, once again, how Dyson has changed my life. I will never love another vacuum again.

Can I get them to go, please?

Sure, would you like some fries with that?

Yeah, the baby thinks that my boobs are detachable. I'm trying to explain to her that she can't take them with her wherever she goes, yet she doesn't quite understand. She is almost 5 months old now, she should be getting these things, don't you think?

What happens is she's distracted. She has a big love affair going on with the world around her and not even her precious can keep her occupied for long. And she loves those milky mama goody goody yummies. She'll be nursing so contently and suddenly the dog barks, or the phone rings and whip goes her head to investigate that familiar noise to find where it's coming from and along with her head....yep, you guessed it... yank goes the teet. All I have to say is thank sweet baby Jesus she doesn't have any teeth yet.

She's also recently started experimenting with her vocal range. I laugh so hard listening to her make all her different sounds. She's loud (for those who know me, surprising, I know) and can be quite demanding at times. But darn it all is she ever cute. I can get so frustrated after a long sleepless night and swear I'll not be swayed by that cute dimpalicious smile of hers but she wins every single time. Can you blame me?

What the?

I'm getting more and more confused by the week. My fav show Lost is driving me nuts. There are still so many unanswered questions and yet the writers are digging even deeper into the depths of the unknown. WTF?

Seriously, what the hell is the black smoke that killed Eko and what is the reason for his brother losing his life on the same island? Ferocious polar bears? All of these hatches that supposedly have something to do with the Dharma Iniative and now the others have taken control of them. Or whatever? And whats his name, Denny? He keeps living the same life over and over again and is trying to keep the poor bastard Charlie from kicking the bucket. Claire is Jack's sister, Locke's father is all the sudden on the island and came from some box that has secret wishing powers. There's just too many screwed up things to list them all. So many questions and NO $#%$ing answers.

Lost? You're damn right I'm lost. Yeah, I'll still watch the freakin' show. But I ain't happy about it.

There is no greater love.

I get it. I understand her affection for her vacuum. I was lucky enough to have a Rainbow that my mom passed down to me. I liked it, but there were drawbacks. The water basin needing to be filled every.single.time you vacuumed. The water basin needing to be emptied, outside, ever.single.time you vacuumed. There were parts here and parts there, it seemed to have more residing spaces in our home than we did. The cord needed outlet changing when I got to my bedroom, which is a total pain when you're in the throes of dust busting. However, this machine was no wuss, it was designed to do some serious dirt/hair/dust removal and that it did. So imagine my dismay when, luckily unfortunately, our Rainbow passed away this morning. And though I am saddened at the departure of my beloved vacuum, I am also excited that I have the opportunity to purchase a new one.

Normally, I would not be so quick to spend such an amount on a vacuum, BUT, I just recently celebrated a birthday and happened to receive a bit of cash from my husband's grandmother. I love this woman dearly, not just for the generous gift, but also because she's my wine drinking buddy at family functions. She is sweet and kind and never judgemental. I do not have to be successful in the business world or otherwise to gain her approval, in fact, her old school beliefs put my profession at the top of her list of most successful. She was at home taking care of her children in her day and she takes great pleasure in my profession being the same. She would never outright say so, but she doesn't need to. There's a sense of camaraderie between SAHM, young and old alike.

I will admit a small amount of buyer's remorse with this purchase. Especially since I could purchase a couple of new windows or a new stove for my kitchen, but when I opened this sexy beast and experienced the capabilities of this puppy I was sold....hook, line and sinker. I want to apologize publicly to James Dyson for the initial doubt I had in purchasing his wonderful invention. This is no mere vacuum, this is the ultimate household appliance, fighting dirt and dander of all kinds, never to leave me disappointed at the mediocre cleanliness of my home again.

Because I'm always writing about

urinated lady on bedroom

someone was able to find my blog.

Awesome.

Oh, the life of a seven year old.

"One day, I hope I get $1000.00. I wanna own Chucky Cheeses."

and then there's

"Mimi is the best birthday present giver ever. I think Mimi might be a little rich."

The Scare.

Scare is putting it mildly. I've been experiencing nausea, reminiscent of early pregnancy. I've been avoiding it, hoping it would pass like an afternoon rain shower, forgotten by sunset. But it held on and reminded me constantly of how I felt this time exactly 1 year ago. I had just found out I was pregnant with Em and it instantly arrived, as if morning sickness was packaged with the positive pregnancy test.

I know that I have LAM on my side, but stranger things have happened. Until I actually have a period I have no idea I've actually ovulated. I've been bf'ing exclusively for 4 months and only recently introduced solids on a regular basis so my chances were slim...but the nausea...the headaches, were all too vaguely familiar to rule it out completely.

I had the hubby bring home a test tonight and am relieved to announce a negative result. Well worth the $15 it cost to find out, that I know for sure. I couldn't even contemplate another baby right now. I would seriously consider running far, far away and hiding for about three years. Phew. Phew. Phew. That scared the living shit right the hell out of me.

Spring is on the way.

On one hand winter came and went so fast, on the other it lingered like the stench of a burned bag of popcorn. Hard to believe 4 months have passed since we introduced the little on into our family. Change is happening so fast in this house I'm lucky to keep my head on straight. The babe, of course, is the focus of all this change. S contributes her fair share since she will soon be blossoming into a tween over the next couple of birthdays. OH MY!! As I watch Em sprout into a playful toddler, her older sister will be soaring into puberty. I can almost see the next 4 years flashing before my eyes right now. Ugh...then I'll be in the second half of my thirties. I hope the clock slows down a little bit. I could have lived nearly half my life by now ya know. Not that I know my fate or when I am slated to pass from this grand planet, but 31 x 2 = 62....you just never know. I wish I had known how precious and fleeting time really is while I was younger.

My Mom and Dee were visiting this past weekend. WOW. A year does a lot to a person her age. She'll celebrate 79 years on her next birthday. She reminds me of a tiny little bird now (funny since her name is Bertie Bird..hahaha,ok that was bad), her face is smaller, her body shrinking, her mind isn't so bad, but there wasn't a day here that she actually remembered where my bedroom was. I chuckled as she headed towards the garage to head off to bed each night, but truth be told it's sad what happens to people as they age. Some are able to keep their dignity well into their golden years, but eventually we all end up pissing ourselves and forgetting our children's names at one point.

Dee looks good, though. I'm really grateful she beat her cancer. She is so lucky to have her voice in tact. It's also because of her that I celebrate an entire year smoke free tomorrow. Not.One.Single.Puff. Oh I've contemplated the thought, dreamed of smoking on several occasions but have otherwise remained strong. For the first time in 15 years I made it an entire year.

I'm still bf'ing. Not entirely by choice mind you. I thought I would be able to wean sometime between 3 and 6 months but that isn't going to happen. And I'm okay with that. I've told myself to get ready for the long haul and that's what the plan is. I've had several failed attempts with formula but have started solids recently and have to brag about our great success. Actually, I didn't have a lot to do with it. Em is just ready for more. She hesitated with cereal a bit, but now that fruit is in the picture she is all about her yum yums. Now the wheels are set into motion and I'll let her be my guide. She's hungry and I'm tired of bf'ing 15 times a day. It's time for us to take the next step.

S's bday party is tomorrow. I have a 7 year old. That doesn't seem possible to me. My growth as a wife and mother happened simultaneously with her growth into a young girl. How things have changed since becoming pregnant with her. I always felt like she was my gift, my wake up call so to speak, telling me that my life is on the right course and if I didn't start following it I would lose it. And quick. I also felt like she was my chance to relive my little years in a different way. To give her the love and chance at real emotional growth that I never had. I felt that she was meant for me, another sensitive little Pisces girl to nurture and protect from all the bad in the world. She is the mini version of me right down to the cow lick on the right side of her bangs. I am who I am right now because of that little girl and she never ceases to teach me lessons on being a good person. She's my reason to smile every single day.

Yes, Spring is on the way. Daylight savings goes into effect this weekend...much earlier than normal. I'm not looking forward to the dark mornings but the light at the end of the day is always a blessing. Soon I will have daffodils, tulips, crocus and hyacinth sprouting through the cold earth reminding me that life evolves and chances at new beginnings are possible with every horizon. Happy Spring!

One question.

Why is it okay for us to listen to our children cry, fuss, complain all day every day but two hours on a Saturday is just too much to ask from the other contributor of dna to these little munchkins? I know the mitochondria is all me...but damn....mama needs a wee break sometimes and I don't want to feel guilty for it.

Men.