Progress

I'm getting better. Energy is returning and I'm remembering what it was like before I was a) carrying a human in my uterus, or b) sustaining another human with my breast.

Holy.

There was a plethora of emotions coming to the surface as our ties were abruptly severed. A loss of our unique bond that confirmed I was hers and she mine was taking its toll on my heart.

Friday I accidentally got drunk. Oooops.

Saturday I felt guilty about getting drunk and was on the verge of tears or in tears nearly all day...and hung over.

Sunday was much the same sans hang over.

Monday. The sun came out. I began running around the house cleaning this and throwing away that. Granted it took me an entire day to clean the kitchen and dining room entirely, or almost entirely. I did not tackle the inside of cabinets, but I was busy working on drawers and floors, redoing the table. Things that had been put off for a loooong time.

It felt good. Light. A description I haven't been inclined to use in over a year.

I wrestle with the notion that Monday was a fluke. My clouds will return tomorrow. Or the next day. I am not out of the woods yet.

Today. My sun is still shining. I'm planting seeds, pulling a weed or two and watering flowers outside. Still purging clutter and freshening up my surroundings. Spending more time playing with the baby and enjoying the moments that come with that down time.

I'm wrestling with the notion that today is also a fluke. I'm skeptical, still believing that my clouds will reappear with great vengeance. I have been struggling in the heart of that deep dark forest praying someone would hear my desperate cries and save me from myself for what seems like months. Waking, eating, sleeping. Existing. Nothing more. Running out of steam as each day passes.

Am I approaching a change? Am I finally seeing a recovery of the mind, so to speak?

I hope so. I have felt the hovering darkness for far too long. It's time for the light to break through and bring me out of the shadows.

I can't even begin to share with you what a relief this is for me.

I am still sad about weaning and will miss our quiet times. But mama is ready for changes. Changes that come through the release of that tie.

I am slowly adapting to the idea of becoming me again. A new me, a me with two kids instead of one. But me none the less.

Hormones?

Dude, I feel like I'm losing my mind. Emotionally speaking I feel as though I just gave birth yesterday! What is up with the fluctuating moods?

Anyway, it feels good to cry a little bit.

Stupid period, stupid breastfeeding, stupid baby making business screws a girl up for sure.

On a lighter side....

I don't know why I didn't take that damn bink out of her mouth....but it just happened that way. Still a great picture of my two beautiful girls.

How am I supposed to feel?

Emily is weaning, not from "milk" entirely, just from me. She is now drinking formula and lots of it.

She's hit her 6th month spurt recently and I am having supply issues, have been for the last month or so. No matter the length of time nursing or the frequency, my ability to make extra is failing me. So, after a screaming fit at 11:00 pm the other night and my inability to calm her, I made a bottle. She drank 3 oz in 3 seconds flat and passed out. The next day I had J pick up a can of the same formula just for supplementing purposes. I wanted to see if this was a one time deal or am I going to be able to give her one of these regularly to give myself a break. Turns out she'd rather the bottle now. And I don't know how to feel about this.

She's still kinda nursing a bit, but not really. Not for lack of trying, though. Oh, I imagine I could just not make the bottles and let her be satisfied with my meager supply and listen to her wail all day long like I have been for the last month. Or I could just let it happen.

Why am I so ridiculously sad? Tears are welling in my eyes right now because I know in my heart that our nursing relationship is coming to an end. And so fast. A week ago I was in for the long ride, my new goal was 1 year. I felt like I had come a long way since my initial thinking of 3 months. Now all of the sudden she's setting the pace and I'm not ready for this. It's not supposed to happen yet.

Then again, I am ready. I am ready to allow her a tighter bond with her father. Our bond is cemented and now it's his turn to strengthen his while I sit back and watch her gain independence and expand her boundaries.

Pros of forcing the issue are the health benefits, obviously. All the information available on breastfeeding stresses 1 year, or more, if you can. The convenience of having her food always ready all the time is huge. I never need to carry anything but myself, a change of clothes and a diaper or two. That's it.

The pros of allowing this change is my own independence. A little bit of me can resurface. Maybe I can start to get more sleep. I'm to the point right now that I can't sleep when I am supposed to. I'm so tired at the end of the day but when I turn in for the night there is no sleep going on. I can't leave her for any length of time. Not that I'm ready to take off for the night but if I want to take S to check out the yard sales on Saturday morning and take her to lunch, I can do so without watching the clock. She could use a little more time with her mom and a little less I'm sorry, but your sister needs me home.

I can't help but feel such a strong emotional pull to continue nursing and get back on track. I am hesitant to let this time pass us by so quickly. I'm just sad, sad, sad.

I don't feel holding her back will work, so I am going to let her wean because I think she's ready and I think deep down so am I, at least on a physical level. She's happier, she's sleeping better and she'll still be healthy regardless of our breastfeeding status. But it's hard on poor mama. My eyelids are heavy from crying. Something I haven't been able to do in months. Not sure why I couldn't ever let the tears flow, I know on many occasion I sure needed a good bawl over the last 6 months, it just wouldn't ever come. Perhaps I was afraid I wouldn't be able to stop once I got started, I don't know.

Anyway, that's the news here at the house of the crazy lady. I'm sure I'll get through this with my sanity still in tact. It's just hard saying goodbye. I was the only one available to provide her with such comfort and sustenance and now that time is coming to a close. It's just the beginning of the inevitable whirlwind...your children grow up in what seems like an instant. Before I know it she'll be walking and talking and this time will be a old, but precious memory. :-(

Crunchy Munchy!!

Summer is my favorite time of year for many reasons. New York, well The Finger Lakes, are home to numerous state parks loaded with spectacular hiking trails and waterfalls, which is partly the reason I agreed to move to this area. I'm a sucker for nature and this place seemed like New England's mecca of sorts. That and my husband's PhD. is coming from Cornell University. An offer that neither of us could afford to pass up.

All this aside, another reason I love summer is because of the growing season. There are a lot of farmer's markets around here where you can buy nutritious organic produce, but why buy when you can grow your own. And that is what we do. The first year we lived here (in our house, that is) we didn't have much to brag about other than a small patch of tomato plants. There wasn't any time to plant on a larger scale because our back yard was one giant overgrown mess and we didn't end up moving until July.

The second summer I had cleared much of the upper level of the back yard and we began digging the earth, preparing it for growing lots of yummy vegetables. I was pregnant last year though, so I wasn't of much help. Even still our garden was much better than the previous year except for the ground hog that ate our watermelon and pumpkin plants, broccoli, beans, beats, spinach...you get the idea. The only thing he truly left untouched was our tomato and green pepper. He didn't eat our strawberries either, but we have a dog that ate those. Go figure. This is what it looked like early on.

The bushes to the right of the garden are red currants and black raspberries. The dog liked those, too. We have blueberry bushes as well. Luckily those are not in the fenced in area....so we got to eat lots of blueberry pancakes and muffins.

So far we've he has turned the ground and seeded our cold weather crops.


This year we are taking a new approach. I don't want to capture the ground hog and move him from his home, I don't want to harm him in any way, we just want him to stay the hell away from our food. So....we are fencing the garden in this year. The hubby even worked his butt off digging a small trench around the garden to deter the wittle waskly gwound hog from digging this way into our oasis of fresh goodies. The hubby has also lengthened and widened the garden from last year. I want more stuff and he insists on growing corn. So...I insisted on more garden.

It's finally starting to take shape and evolve into the garden we want for the rest of our time here. Only two more summers and we'll be moving and hopefully starting this process all over again. The people who buy our house when the time comes will probably hate gardens and throw grass seed down. Oh wouldn't that just be the way the story goes. Anyhow...this is the garden so far. I'll put more pictures up when things start to grow...and I'll throw in a few of the flowers I'll be planting around the yard, too.

For good measure....one more of the garden...with a cute little baby in the middle.

Mile Marker

I've been breastfeeding you 6 months now. That means you're 6 months old. Oh, where has the time gone, little one. Really? In the midst of all the sleepless, never ending nights you have turned into this little baby. No longer an infant, but a sweet little baby that interacts and takes in the world with enthusiasm and wonder.

Boy do you love your mama. When you're lonely you want me, when you're tired you want me, when you're sick you want me, when you're happy you want me. You just want me all the time. Our bond with one another is very strong and I truly believe that breastfeeding has played a major role in that. I hadn't the slightest notion that I would nurse you the entire first year of your life and now that you're half way there it just seems like the natural thing to do. To be honest, I can't really see us doing anything else and feel a bit sorrowful when I think of the inevitable weaning.

Lately, with gentle coaxing, you have started to acknowledge other people in your tiny circle. Daddy is no longer just part of the decor, you are finally showering him with smiles and attention. It's nice seeing your bond with him mature into something special. It's your daddy that's going to be your everything in the coming years. He's the one who will be getting out the Easy Bake on a Saturday morning while mama sleeps in. He's the one who will be giving you piggy back rides and endless horsey rides. He's the one who will protect you, provide for you and love you with every single fiber of his being. Mama will be there, too. I'll be loving, protecting and providing but it will be much different for you and your adoring father. And I'm grateful for that relationship and feel lucky that I get to watch that take shape and blossom into something beautiful.

You're an active baby, constantly bouncing, grabbing, pulling and touching everything within reach. I'm cherishing the days of keeping you contained because once you're mobile there will be no stopping you.

You love to eat. When it comes to food you mean business. Whether it be breast feeding, snacking on a cracker, or eating one of your meals you always do it with vigor. It's fascinating to watch you enjoy all the new flavors. You like everything and are always eager to try new things.

Intense would be a good description for you, little one. Everything you do is whole hearted, be it laughing or crying, you give it your all. I love your determination and think of you as an all or nothing kind of kid. We'll work on the all being your best qualities later, hopefully.

Sleep? Who needs sleep. Certainly not you. I think once you woke up out of your month long newborn slumber and saw that there was more than amniotic fluid and umbilical cords to look at you decided you're eyes were better off open. I am all day putting you down for cat naps because you sleep so lightly and for such short periods of time. You still aren't really that close to sleeping through the night yet, but you do go to bed easily for me. You just like to wake up and you'd prefer if I just let you sleep with me and nurse any old time you wanted to. I do love having you close to me but I'm not much of a co-sleeper long-term, so I'm trying to keep you from getting to used to sleeping next to mama.

You have shown me just how much love can grow. Life just seems fuller with you around, not just for me, but for all of us, including your big sister. She has told me more than once how much she loves you and is quick to protect you, even from me if she deems necessary. It's really quite endearing. I love that you have such a great kid for a big sister and role model. Hopefully you two will be there for one another as my sisters are for me.

I hope the next 6 months are as fun and eventful as the last have been. Something tells me life with you will never be boring my sweet little girl. We love you.

Can't win them all.

Last night's contest was phenomenal. There was a full house with forty singers in all and over three hundred fans cheering them on.

I didn't place last night like I did last year but I did well. The competition was fierce. The winner was an outstanding vocalist and he was not far ahead of the remaining four contestants who took prizes home, two of which placed 1st and 2nd last year. I certainly didn't envy the full plate the judges had deciding which were the best.

All in all it was a great contest. I am really lucky to have participated and plan on entering again next year. Who knows....maybe it will be my lucky year. Either way I know I'll have a great time and see some excellent talent showcased. Who knew karaoke could be so entertaining.

Tonight?

I will be a rock star. Whether I win or lose, I'm still going to kick some major buttarooni and not even feel sorry about it. But if I do win there is $500 in it for me. How cool is that?

Who would of thought my tiny little place of residence would have such a grandiose karaoke following. Seriously.....they have an msn group they love it so much. They post pictures from different contests and keep a karaoke kalendar (yes, they spell calendar with a k) with a list of venues around the area. Yes, there are karaoke venues it's so popular around here. There are some serious karaoke fans around these parts and they ain't playin' round either.

Tonight, song choice is everything. I can kick butt all night long but if my song choice is less than desirable I've gone and lost the whole gig. I'm starting off with a number by Martina McBride, When God Fearing Women Get the Blues...only I have changed it to SAHM's getting the blues. Not really, but I think that would be funny. After I was done I could squirt the crowd with breast milk. No? You don't think? Hmmmm....well there goes that plan.

I practiced last night. It sounded great in spite of the nasty cold I've been pampering all week long. Today my chest congestion is loosening up and my voice is feeling less strained. Yay for me!

So wish me luck, break a leg, whatever you're feeling. I am working on owning that shit because anyone that knows me will attest to my outlandish personality, until you stick me in a room full of people watching only me. I tend to freeze up unless I'm drunk, but that wouldn't work because I actually have to sing without falling off the stage (which has happened to some people who can't monitor their intake before they sing the second song. No, it wasn't me.). Anyway. For lack of a better phrase.....tonight...I'm gettin' er' done.....county style bitches.

Note to self.

Never, under any circumstances, do you up and quit your morning coffee to "boost your immune system". Duh.

Feeling healthier....no? What? You have a throbbing head ache? Wonder why moron.

In attempts to thwart off a lingering cold I gave up caffeine. For one day. And today, whilst my head splits in two, I am returning a broken woman. Powerless to the drug that captivates my soul.

Even the baby was having withdrawals.

May the Lord have mercy on my evil, black heart.

UGH!

Today was just one of those days. You know, the kind of day that makes you want to go back to bed all day long. I am draggin' ass BIG TIME. Could be the spring cold that has cycled back to me for the second time. Could be that I am feelin' a bit of post partum frump. Could be that I'm living in a place that is a.) waaaaay to far away from the people I hold close to my heart, and b.) this place is waaaay to far away from where I want to be living. Either one is reason enough to count the days until we leave this place.

Sure, this is just a cobble stone in our meandering path of life, but honestly, could this stone be any bigger? Sheesh. Enough already. I truly hope the husband appreciates the fact that I gave up my job and cozy life within safe driving distances from family and life long friends to support his career and his goals in life. I am all for supporting his aspirations but the sacrifice, to me, has been daunting at times. And even though I share the same dream, I can't help but be a little resentful while he's working towards a great accomplishment and I am at home changing shitty diapers and getting puked on. Someone please tell me, just where's the glory in that?

I know in the end, I am the lucky one. A career will last, and last, and last, and last until you're ready for it to be over, and then some. But your children? Well, they have a funny way of growing up and leaving you to fend for yourself. Every minute that passes is one less minute we have them in the safe clutches of our home. When you count the days you spend raising your children it's a very small amount of time compared to your life as a whole. I know how fast my childhood passed me by, I can only imagine that of your children, when time has a funny way of rushing along just a wee bit faster than the days of my youth.

I took a left turn somewhere in this post and am not quite sure how I got here, but either way, the babbling and run on sentences help me shrug it off another day. Thanks blogspot, for giving me my place to vent, my piece of the web space pie to call all my own. That way, when I'm having one of those days, I can come on here and get lost in it all and somehow find my way to the other side.

Ugly.

Unimaginable. Putrid. Horrific. Frightening.

Sad.

When does rage become so unbearably strong, hatred so dark, loneliness so deep and hallow that you could calculatingly take the lives of other innocent people?

I will never understand one's ability to take human life. I will never be able to grasp the desperation one must feel in order to justify that kind of action.

I can not put into words the needless pain fellow students/faculty must feel since Monday's
Massacre. I just cannot wrap my head around the aching sadness the victim's families are experiencing during this time. I am left speechless, incapable of justly describing the heartache invoked by this inconceivable tragedy. But I couldn't just say nothing.

My heart bleeds for everyone affected by this heinous crime, including the disturbed young man who committed these horrific acts. The disbelief his parents must feel, the guilt they must shoulder knowing it was their son who stole precious life from so many undeserving people.

I pray for you all. I pray that peace comes into your life, that you are able to rise above the ugliness that was Monday, April 16, 2007. That with time, your heart will allow healing. That your memories live on forever. That love and compassion prevail. May God be with each and every one of you during this dark and trying hour.

Spring?

A myth no longer....


reassurance came, informing me nature was taking it's first breathe of the season...


...afternoon walks were possible. Smiles were taking form on my otherwise glum face and the children were once again able to play outside without mittens and snow pants.
















Then one gloomy morning...


are you kidding me?


nope, not kidding.


Wwaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!! Please make it go away....


Monday morning, the supposed return of school after April vacation...


kids are home, the power is out. There's talk it will return at 4 pm. Thanks, hon, for calling the electric company and giving me such positive news, 4 pm you say? How great. Thanks, I needed to hear that as much as I needed to get a pimple on my ass. Thanks for thinking of me. Have fun at work. Enjoy your hot coffee and warm muffins. Oh, don't worry, we're all fine here. Our snow suits haven't been packed away yet and the baby likes frozen turkey noodle. Loves it even.

Mid morning crazies have set in. Arrests have been made...


the baby has joined a new gang...


she's quite ambitious, by noon she was head honcho...


But we're all handling it well and dreaming of better days...

And I'm pretty sure The Cat in the Hat made bail.

Nothing inspiring going on here...

Just one sick baby and one sick mama trying to low crawl her way through the endless nights and arduous days without losing her sleep deprived mind. I want to cry but I don't have it in me. I'm not kidding. There just aren't any tears to shed because my body is otherwise occupied making other bodily fluids that keep the wee one alive. I'm tapped out.

I'm not going to sleep this year, am I? Just tell me the truth already. I did this once before and don't remember it being this difficult. Why do we suffer memory loss from that first year? Oh, right, to continue the species. I would not be doing this otherwise had I remembered. Or maybe I would have but I would have slept more that year before my pregnancy. And felt less guilty about getting drunk.

I feel so bad for the babe. She's miserable. I can only imagine what it's like for little people. She only has to see me from across the room to feel separation anxiety. Being held by daddy is doing nothing for her. She spots me and it's over. I thought she was going to hyperventilate at 4:30 this morning when I briefly passed her over to him before I literally melted. She just can't handle the two feet between us.

I wish I had more motherliness in me when my baby is sick. On one hand I'm 100% there and on the other...well, not so much. I'm just tired. Did I mention how tired I am? How I haven't slept a straight 5 hour stretch in a very long time? My child is nearing the 6th month mark. Shouldn't I be getting more sleep now?

Okay, I won't bore you any longer with the public pity party I'm having for myself. Babies are cute and mine is one of the cutest in the world......so I'll shut up now.

We should write a book.

On parenting. That is what S's teacher said at her conference with my husband this morning. I'm so proud of her. Knowing your child is smart, helpful, organized, attentive and a role model for other students to emulate is like winning the lottery. I can't even begin to put into words how happy I am with her.

I know we got lucky in many ways. My daughter is who she is just because, but as her parents we do get to take a little credit. I love who she is blossoming into. Her ability to empathize and show kindness to others, but most of all her genuine humility and giant heart bring me to my knees with respect and admiration.

I've said more than once that I see myself in this child. Sure, there's no mistaking she belongs to me, anyone can take one sideways glance at her and pick me out of a large crowd as her mother. It's her likeness inside that has surprised me. How closely she resembles a younger version of myself that renders me speechless daily. And I don't mean that I am/was all those things I just described, I just mean that our personalities are nearly one in the same. I'm wierd, she's wierd, I'm shy, she's shy sort of thing.

I smile inside and am grateful that with her I can make a difference. She is nurtured and deeply loved. Her father hangs on her every word and her mother is always available. She is encouraged and stimulated as an individual. We have gently prodded the insecurity in her and turned it into quiet confidence. She believes in herself and her abilities but isn't too flashy about it.

For instance.

She hugged a boy in school one day, a boy that has behavioral issues. Why? Because he got a gold star two days in a row and she was so proud of him. She told me because she almost kissed him on the cheek by accident and wanted to make sure I knew that she didn't kiss him, only hugged.

She encouraged and praised another kid for a reward that she didn't need or want to receive. For a seven year old kid in this day and age, I think that is amazing.

I won't lie, she has her days. She's not always a shining example. Trust me. But I love, love, love who she is when I'm not looking.

Am I a good mother? Sure, I think so. But she's a good kid, this I know for sure.

Yesterday

I almost set my house on fire.

I was cuddling with my baby, nursing her to her hearts content because I felt guilty for letting her cry while I showered, when all of the sudden the fire alarm is signaling in the kitchen area.

My heart started to race, I was wearing only a towel and I had my baby in my arms. I had to run in there and see if there really was a fire. I wasn't cooking anything (LOL, long story) so I knew something was up. Smoke filled the dining room and living room. Oh God, what am I going to find around the next corner in the kitchen? Smoke was rolling out of a pan on the stove but no fire. Phew, thank goodness I hadn't set anything on fire. But damn, I boiled 4 pacifiers to the point of no return. They were now one big blob of melted plastic in the bottom of my favorite tiny pot. Okay, my only tiny pot.

The baby is coughing, I can barely breathe; what a disaster. Okay, find a safe place for her to be while you air out this house. Luckily her room was clean and fresh air was plenty. I opened her window to be safe and put her in her crib while I ran around the house opening doors and turning on fans with a towel over my face because the smoke was really unbearable. The kitchen still stinks like burned plastic.

Like an hour later I was all, oh yeah, we have a fire extinguisher. Embarrassingly, that was the last thought in my head as I was heading for the kitchen to investigate. My sweet loving husband so kindly reminded me...."yeah, you're not exactly the pillar of strength when it comes to emergencies."

Eat Shit.

I did the best I could and hopefully I'll never have scare like that again. Oddly enough, the last week or so, I've been thinking about fires and the possibility of us having one more often than normal.

That was freaky and I'm thankful that it was only a pan full of binks and that our home is still in tact.

On the lighter side of things, my eldest daughter is officially a redneck woman, much like Gretchen Wilson only instead of keeping her Christmas lights on, on her front porch...my little redneck woman keeps her Christmas socks on and don't even ask her to take them off.

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.