Month: June 2011

The Times They Are A-Changin’ (Again)

I ran a little over one mile today. (Also yesterday.) On purpose. This is mostly because:

1) When the monster cupcakes were gone, Julia asked who ate the last one and then commented it was, “Probably Mommy.”

2) Lucy hugged me and snuggled close and said, “Mommy, your tummy is so big and soft like a pillow. I think it’s full of water!”

3) I saw some photos of me among a group of parade-goers that included a view of my backside. Now, I’ve spent plenty of time pulling, stretching and adjusting my shirts to cover my waterbed belly and create an illusion of shirt puff and, therefore, have grown quite familiar with its disturbing appearance, but the view from the back was a horrific shock. There’s so much junk in my trunk there is now (once again, unfortunately) a shelf above it to accommodate the excess. I voted myself “Most Likely to Appear on The People of WalMart website.”

4) I gained 12 pounds in 149 days.

5) I had to buy bigger underwear.

6) My friend Amy called me up (and by “called me up” I mean “sent me a message on Facebook.” Facebook is the new phone call.) and said, “Let’s go, baby. Let’s go, baby. C’mon! Take a cue from me now, I’m saying baby, let’s go!” (except it was more like, “OK, I have got to get back on the wagon…Wanna hop back on the wagon with me?” But I could feel that the message was sent in the spirit of Wang Chung.) And then I changed her ringtone on my phone from “Take Me Home Country Roads” by John Denver (which NEVER fails to make me cry) to “The Warrior” by Scandal, even though we never call each other unless you consider Facebook the new phone call in which case we call all the time. But it doesn’t involve a ringtone. Still, who you are to me is best summed up by the ringtone I’ve selected for you on my phone, whether you call me or not.

Anyway, I ran today. And after the running part, during the cooling down and walking home part, it started to rain. Hard. And a lot. My shoes got squishy and I pretended I was James Blunt in the “Beautiful” video except I kept my clothes on. I mostly walked sexy with a sultry expression and I don’t think he even does that in the video, but that’s what I was doing.

It’s been a long time since I pretended to be in a video. I think I’ll run again tomorrow.

7 X 5 = 35. This fact has not escaped me.

Yesterday, I turned 35.

Tomorrow, Julia will be 7.

Today, we had playgroup and Monster cupcakes.

Eat me.

“Don’t call me Gaga.”

Here are a bunch of them ready to go to t-ball.

Monster cupcakes!!

Monster cupcakes: “We’re gonna eat you!”

T-ball team: “Not if we eat you first!”**

** This is totally a made up conversation. Monster cupcakes don’t talk. They use telepathy. Look at the dude up front and center. What is he telling you?

Tomorrow Julia will wake up with a dollar bill under her pillow along with a clue that will lead her to another dollar bill with a clue that will lead her to another dollar bill until she has a dollar bill for every year she has lived. Since she considers herself “rich” with a whole $4 in her bank, I’m thinking the seven dollar scavenger hunt is gonna blow her mind. I’m taking bets for how many days will go by before I have to ask her for a loan. (Insider tip: three days is a good bet, but if you win, that means I’m broke and couldn’t pay you anyway. You may want to make a bet with Julia.)

Tomorrow night, Julia’s BFF will be coming over for a Spajama Party. That’s right – SPAjama Party. We’re going to do their nails and facials and put cucumber slices over their eyes and washable pink highlights in their hair. There will be a Dr. Scholl’s foot bath involved. Pizza will be eaten as well as ice cream cake. And while Julia blows out her candles and wishes for something like a lifetime supply of cotton candy, I’ll be praying she doesn’t get knocked up in high school or a DUI and makes it to college and graduates before she starts worrying about finding someone to commit to because there’s no need to rush. There’s plenty of time for everything. “Life is long,” I tell her. Until your baby is turning 7. Then it’s way too short.

Summer Break. Is that sarcasm?

life has been crazy
so, it’s another haiku
but I’ve made a list

Things I Want To Write About:

1. Softball. T-ball. Softball vs. T-ball. Working Title: Softball Is Anything But Soft.

2. Lucy’s piano class.

3. World War G: Julia vs. Mommy.

4. Phoebe’s newfound mobility. With video?

5. The Great Snail Invasion.

6. Okay, so I’m fat: Things you shouldn’t say unless you’re ready to sumo wrestle me (i.e. Fat Friend Conversation Ettiquette).

7. My awesome husband. (That’s not sarcasm.)

Of course, you realize now that I’ve made a list and published it, the rebel in me won’t allow me to abide by it. Unless I rebel against my inner rebel. It could happen. I’m all deep thoughts up in here!

Another haiku:

haikus are great as
they force me to be concise
and get to the point

And just one more:

Lucy says to me:
“I’m a unicorn and my
horn is musical!”

Nothing in the world will ever be the same!*

Phoebe can stand up,
climb out of her bassinet
and also her crib.

* as sung by Michael Ball at the end of “Love Changes Everything” from the musical “Aspects of Love.”

This is our Monday.

piano lesson,
a Summer Reading program
and a softball game

I know you’re working for the weekend. Everybody is. I also know you want a little romance. It could be just a click away.

I’m doing something new and I’m feeling pretty good about it.

BlogHer Book Club Reviewer

My first review for the book A Discovery of Witches is up over at You should check it out, especially if you like vampires or witches or magic. And if you don’t like those things, you should check it out because you like me! If you don’t like me, you should check it out because there’s probably something in there you can use to make fun of me. Also – I just want to throw this out there – comments are nice.

Transitions can be hard. It’s not going to be like this all summer. It’s NOT going to be like this all summer.

After a day full of screams and a whole lot of “UGH! She won’t stop touching me!” “Make her stop looking at me!” and “If she’s going outside then I’m staying in…well, then I’m coming in if she thinks she’s coming out!” the girls had gone to their room and the house suddenly got very quiet. I trudged upstairs to see if anyone was bound and gagged or locked in a closet. The bedroom door was closed, so I knocked quietly as I pushed it open and there were Julia and Lucy, sitting at a play table. Lucy was lightly tapping the keys on her toy laptop and Julia was reading a book.

Lucy paused for a second, shot an annoyed glance over her shoulder at me, then returned to her “work” while Julia’s eyes continued to dart across the page of an Ivy & Bean book. I stood and watched them a moment feeling a little confused. Weren’t these the same girls who, just fifteen minutes ago, had a near battle to the death over who got the broken green sandbox shovel? The ones who resorted to fisticuffs over who was copying who by swinging in unison on the playset? The silence continued and finally, I asked. “What are you guys doing?”

Julia looked up and calmly said, “We’re playing house,” and returned to her reading.

Afraid to disrupt the peace, I just whispered, “Alright,” and shut the door, but I was still bewildered. Who’s house was that supposed to be? And can I please go live there?

Cheesy. Like it’s a bad word or something.

I love cheese. The best food you’ll ever eat probably contains cheese and I can’t think of many things that aren’t made better with the addition of cheese. So, when people look at me, roll their eyes and dub me “cheesy,” I’ve decided to assume they mean it in an absolutely delicious kind of way. It’s much better for my self esteem. Of course I do realize I am absolutely and quite delectably cheesy. I mean, I bought our entire family matching t-shirts from Walmart. Clearly, I’ve embraced this aspect of my personality.

I’ve figured out from where my cheesiness comes, however, as my mom had the idea for our whole gang to wear our matching shirts to pick Julia up from her last day of school, yesterday. She thought it would be fun and special. I agreed. And I felt if ever we were going to try and pull something like this off, sooner was better. A few years from now, such an extreme show of solidarity and family pride would probably ruin Julia’s life forever. But, she is 6 – wait, almost 7, she wants you to know – so she thought it was awesome.

And you know I took pictures.

Dave and the girls - sweet

There’s Dave and the girls, looking sweet.

Dave and the girls - crazy eyes

I like this one better as it captures Dave’s true essence.

My parents and the girls

We tried to get a shot of my parents and the girls.

Lucy demonstrates a funny face

Lucy suggested they make funny faces.

My parents and the girls - funny faces

It was a good idea, I think.

My family

Here I am with Dave and the girls.


Dave thought it’d look better if we did this.

Here we are!

It reminded him of an album cover, which is appropriate as we are rock stars. Obviously.

I was going for a circle.

I suggested this.

Or a semi-circle, I guess.

(P.S. Pretend I’m skinny.)

And then...

But it went like this. starts to...

...fall apart.

And then someone cried.

*Cue These are Days by 10,000 Maniacs.

Schools Out for Summer! (After 3 PM, that is.)

The last day of first grade

Julia pancakes
for breakfast on the last day
she’s a first grader

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