Does anyone remember that one song from ever so long ago?
'll be singing, While we're winning
I'll be singing
I get knocked down, but I get up again, you're never gonna keep me down
....
He drinks a whisky drink
He drinks a vodka drink
He drinks a lager drink
He drinks a Cider drink
He sings the songs that remind him of the good times,
He sings the songs that remind him of the better times,
Oh Danny boy, Danny boy, Danny boy
This would be something akin to a status update. I'm actually quite grateful that there are six people who have decided to follow my blogging ways and I have been fairly quiet on all my favorite sites lately. I haven't been too social. I haven't been too crafty. I owe a couple close friends apologies for missing their gatherings. I need to buy gifts for a couple small children who had birthdays this past week.
I'll admit, I'm surprised that's it's only been a week that I've been quiet. It feels much longer; like a month. It all started out fairly fun. We celebrated Father's Day. We celebrated our eighth wedding anniversary. THEN, I got hit with some pretty intense and specific pain. By intense, I mean a couple things:
* I am hard-headed and pretty well refuse to take pain relievers unless I know that I will be a puddle on the floor without them. The most I took while in labor with my son was one shot of Stadol; and he was quite literally a pain in the butt! For the kind of pain I had this past week; normally I'd simply walk it off and keep going. Maybe indulge in a dark chocolate candy bar, too. Instead, I took four Advil at a go and passed out for a few hours in the middle of the day.... For four days in a row.
* I am also a comfort-eater. When I'm stressed, or uncomfortable enough, I will try to find a happy place in just about any snack food you can imagine. Lately, that would even include a plate of broccoli; but it's comfort eating all the same. Instead, I consumed about 500 calories each day. Even if I had had the strength and determination to track that for Weight Watchers, it would have been supremely low.
Both of these left me feeling pretty week and uninterested in joining the human population for a few days.
On the upshot, at my weekly weigh-in I learned that I'd lost a little over four pounds for all that. Not great news in the long run, but as someone working hard to lose a lot of weight, I'm trying to keep a sense of humor about it. I'm also trying -- starting this morning -- to again record and be incredibly mindful of what I eat on a daily basis. I want to be sure that I'm at least trying to bring myself back to a healthy center; because I'm pretty sure my body is going to try to make up for lost time pretty soon.
Mainly, I wanted to establish that I'm not flaking on this blog I started. I have genuine plans and want to fulfill them for a long time to come. Hope you'll hang in there til I get up again.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Dude!
Dude!
I use that word more than I care to admit. Usually, it's when I'm in shock. More to the point, it's when I've let myself dabble in my imagination a little too long and am quickly brought back to reality...by peanut butter smeared into my couch...or my arm being flung at my side as a call to attention. Often, it's along the lines of, "Dude! I'm a Mom." Then I happily frolic in that reality...and returning my couch to it's... well, I suppose pre-peanut butter splendor doesn't fit as a description. It's a Lazy Boy that became a Lazy Man a long time ago. By the end of this July, I will have owned that couch outright for ten years.
Today, however, I will have owned my husband outright (for as loosely as you can take that) for eight years. Today, we celebrate our Wedding Anniversary. Compared to some marriages, that's a lifetime. Compared to the average, we need to hang for another 16 and beyond. According to my husband, we'll be going strong for another 200 years...Because he's a dreamer like that. According to me, I'm more than happy to take it day by day.
That's not a negative statement in the least. It's a realistic statement. Like anyone else who's been married longer than the honeymoon -- or even been committed to one person for longer than a month (give or take) -- marriage is work. It's a challenge to be relished every day. It's something you live in the moment. It takes practice; even for the most romantic among us. As a college acquaintance once put it, in marriage, you basically make a new decision every day to stay with this one person no matter what. Prince Charming wafts away in the breeze. Cinderella gets back to the laundry. In marriage, you learn what it means to walk in love and faith.
Maybe I was a slow learner, but those were lessons that I didn't acquire over night. I started to finally grasp them after many years and many tries. Even now, I'm not certain that I've totally learned the lessons well, but I do a whole lot better at living out what I've grasped so far.
...And so, in the light of the day after I forgot to put the remaining spaghetti sauce in the freezer; leaving it instead to spoil overnight, I try to be a good wife. I try to be the partner I know he deserves and remember he's just as human as I am.
Happy eight years, Snickerdoodle! I lu' ya and thank you for decided to be with me every single day!
I use that word more than I care to admit. Usually, it's when I'm in shock. More to the point, it's when I've let myself dabble in my imagination a little too long and am quickly brought back to reality...by peanut butter smeared into my couch...or my arm being flung at my side as a call to attention. Often, it's along the lines of, "Dude! I'm a Mom." Then I happily frolic in that reality...and returning my couch to it's... well, I suppose pre-peanut butter splendor doesn't fit as a description. It's a Lazy Boy that became a Lazy Man a long time ago. By the end of this July, I will have owned that couch outright for ten years.
Today, however, I will have owned my husband outright (for as loosely as you can take that) for eight years. Today, we celebrate our Wedding Anniversary. Compared to some marriages, that's a lifetime. Compared to the average, we need to hang for another 16 and beyond. According to my husband, we'll be going strong for another 200 years...Because he's a dreamer like that. According to me, I'm more than happy to take it day by day.
That's not a negative statement in the least. It's a realistic statement. Like anyone else who's been married longer than the honeymoon -- or even been committed to one person for longer than a month (give or take) -- marriage is work. It's a challenge to be relished every day. It's something you live in the moment. It takes practice; even for the most romantic among us. As a college acquaintance once put it, in marriage, you basically make a new decision every day to stay with this one person no matter what. Prince Charming wafts away in the breeze. Cinderella gets back to the laundry. In marriage, you learn what it means to walk in love and faith.
Maybe I was a slow learner, but those were lessons that I didn't acquire over night. I started to finally grasp them after many years and many tries. Even now, I'm not certain that I've totally learned the lessons well, but I do a whole lot better at living out what I've grasped so far.
...And so, in the light of the day after I forgot to put the remaining spaghetti sauce in the freezer; leaving it instead to spoil overnight, I try to be a good wife. I try to be the partner I know he deserves and remember he's just as human as I am.
Happy eight years, Snickerdoodle! I lu' ya and thank you for decided to be with me every single day!
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Happy Pop's Day, Dudes!
There are likely a gajillion and four posts today that somehow relate to Father's Day. Thank goodness it's not my job to read them all! I'd be stuck in this chair until next Father's Day; only to do it all over again.
Today, I'm not going to reminisce about my own Dad. He's awesome, he's infuriating, he's embarrassing and a reason to hold my head high. I love him; and as crazy as he drives me, I wouldn't have him any other way.
This MIGHT, however, go into a little bit of mush wherein I talk about my husband as Dad. Likely that's going to happen because I made a little scrappy page about he and my son recently; I feel like sharing that page today.
He's a pretty good Dad, really. I admit I had my doubts about either of our skills before we brought our Little Wonder home. He can be gruff. He has a quick temper (even if it does fade as fast as it emerges); and Heaven help you if you're near him while waiting in a grocery line. His vocabulary isn't nearly as colorful as mine can be; yet he uses the "fun" words more often than I do. He can tire easily and is prone to migraines. He likes everything in like exactly his way; though he'll swear he's flexible. Not so much. He has some odd ideas of appropriate television viewing for children. Sponge Bob is about as innocent as we can agree on in that department.
And yet.... He's present with our son every day. He has no problems digging into the less-savory parts of parenting without looking back. Somehow, he is patient. He is teaching our son to appreciate nature, science, art and the craft of creating highly-detailed masterpieces (he is incredible at painting Warmachine models). Our son is constantly interested in whatever Daddy does and my husband has no problem teaching him as he goes along. My husband and my son are getting to know each other better every day. They love each other like parents and children are supposed to. They're setting the groundwork to respect each other as they grow.
THAT's why I felt so privileged to get this photo of them earlier this weekend:
And made this page, with the help of the Thursday Sketch at Pages In Time:
I added a few details to the sketch supplied, like stitching triangles around the title area, having peek-a-boo torn paper here and there, buttons that just insisted on being used... I also used a recent gift of crackle paint to make the title area brighter.
And just for kicks and giggles, this is another page I made in December that I just love:
Happy Father's Day!
Today, I'm not going to reminisce about my own Dad. He's awesome, he's infuriating, he's embarrassing and a reason to hold my head high. I love him; and as crazy as he drives me, I wouldn't have him any other way.
This MIGHT, however, go into a little bit of mush wherein I talk about my husband as Dad. Likely that's going to happen because I made a little scrappy page about he and my son recently; I feel like sharing that page today.
He's a pretty good Dad, really. I admit I had my doubts about either of our skills before we brought our Little Wonder home. He can be gruff. He has a quick temper (even if it does fade as fast as it emerges); and Heaven help you if you're near him while waiting in a grocery line. His vocabulary isn't nearly as colorful as mine can be; yet he uses the "fun" words more often than I do. He can tire easily and is prone to migraines. He likes everything in like exactly his way; though he'll swear he's flexible. Not so much. He has some odd ideas of appropriate television viewing for children. Sponge Bob is about as innocent as we can agree on in that department.
And yet.... He's present with our son every day. He has no problems digging into the less-savory parts of parenting without looking back. Somehow, he is patient. He is teaching our son to appreciate nature, science, art and the craft of creating highly-detailed masterpieces (he is incredible at painting Warmachine models). Our son is constantly interested in whatever Daddy does and my husband has no problem teaching him as he goes along. My husband and my son are getting to know each other better every day. They love each other like parents and children are supposed to. They're setting the groundwork to respect each other as they grow.
THAT's why I felt so privileged to get this photo of them earlier this weekend:
And made this page, with the help of the Thursday Sketch at Pages In Time:
I added a few details to the sketch supplied, like stitching triangles around the title area, having peek-a-boo torn paper here and there, buttons that just insisted on being used... I also used a recent gift of crackle paint to make the title area brighter.
And just for kicks and giggles, this is another page I made in December that I just love:
Happy Father's Day!
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Carny Boy
I realized recently, while enjoying the drive to a local carnival, that I am going to worry myself exhausted, trying to be the Mom I want to be. Evidently, I want to be the Mom that makes sure her son has something fun, exciting and unexpected to do nearly every day. I want his Summer to be filled with so much fun. I want him to have a wealth of personal experience to draw on when he goes to school. I want him to know that life is meant to be enjoyed. I want him to spend as little time on the couch as possible.....Okay, and I want to be able to scrap it all. Naughty, huh?
With that desire to make sure my little three-year-old leads the fullest life possible, I started to panic a bit. I had wanted to take him to a pancake breakfast at a local airport the next day, Sunday... in addition to planning and shopping for dinners for the upcoming week, knocking out a couple loads of laundry, sanitizing the bathroom (again!), picking up some more printer ink so I can have a ton of pictures to put on scrappy pages...AND work in a nap and enough play time that he still knows he's loved. The weekends are when I wish for more hours in a day because the time is more precious to get things done and make life worth living. The weekends are when I long for Super Mom status and easily fall short.
While we did not make it to the airport breakfast on Sunday -- I had realized at the last minute that he would have been painfully bored and constantly trying to ride in the planes all morning -- we did make the most of the time we had....grocery shopping, napping and watching a new movie.
At Saturday's carnival, I took well over 200 photos. In the humidity that comes with temps near 90, he road the rides over and over and over again.
When he needed a grown up along for the ride, he either got his Daddy, his Mommy or my mother-in-law, Gramma Cam'ra.
We fueled up on hot dogs, french fries, rootbeer floats and water.
We spent an entire hour at the city playground that was backed against the carnival grounds.
I took time to appreciate the art, beauty, charm and childhood memories triggered by Merry Go Round music.
We also learned how one successfully continues potty training in a porta potty...but no worries. I didn't take any photos of that. Score!
....I guess my closing thought, and what I want to take away from all my own nonsense, is that life is what you make of it....Fun Rocks the Casbah. But taking moments to breathe and reflect will help me appreciate it so much more.
With that desire to make sure my little three-year-old leads the fullest life possible, I started to panic a bit. I had wanted to take him to a pancake breakfast at a local airport the next day, Sunday... in addition to planning and shopping for dinners for the upcoming week, knocking out a couple loads of laundry, sanitizing the bathroom (again!), picking up some more printer ink so I can have a ton of pictures to put on scrappy pages...AND work in a nap and enough play time that he still knows he's loved. The weekends are when I wish for more hours in a day because the time is more precious to get things done and make life worth living. The weekends are when I long for Super Mom status and easily fall short.
While we did not make it to the airport breakfast on Sunday -- I had realized at the last minute that he would have been painfully bored and constantly trying to ride in the planes all morning -- we did make the most of the time we had....grocery shopping, napping and watching a new movie.
At Saturday's carnival, I took well over 200 photos. In the humidity that comes with temps near 90, he road the rides over and over and over again.
When he needed a grown up along for the ride, he either got his Daddy, his Mommy or my mother-in-law, Gramma Cam'ra. 
We fueled up on hot dogs, french fries, rootbeer floats and water. 
We spent an entire hour at the city playground that was backed against the carnival grounds. 
I took time to appreciate the art, beauty, charm and childhood memories triggered by Merry Go Round music. We also learned how one successfully continues potty training in a porta potty...but no worries. I didn't take any photos of that. Score!
....I guess my closing thought, and what I want to take away from all my own nonsense, is that life is what you make of it....Fun Rocks the Casbah. But taking moments to breathe and reflect will help me appreciate it so much more.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Anyone else feeling shoppy?
Okay, guess who just learned that she's able to create an empty blog?!
Cleaning for several hours each day has me in a shopping kind of mood. That doesn't always mean I'll buy anything, but it does mean I want to Ooh and Aah over pretty things.
Case in point...
I was reading the latest post from this incredibly talented woman which lead me to another site that has finally launched a new line of stunning stencils. Even if you're not a scrapper, these have LOADS of possibilities.
So, if you're feeling crafty, click on the badge below and check them out.
....And if I'm a lucky duck, all my links will actually SHOW this time!
Cleaning for several hours each day has me in a shopping kind of mood. That doesn't always mean I'll buy anything, but it does mean I want to Ooh and Aah over pretty things.
Case in point...
I was reading the latest post from this incredibly talented woman which lead me to another site that has finally launched a new line of stunning stencils. Even if you're not a scrapper, these have LOADS of possibilities.
So, if you're feeling crafty, click on the badge below and check them out.
....And if I'm a lucky duck, all my links will actually SHOW this time!
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Sorry Sweetie!
There's been a bit of excitement in my house this past week. Our son has made another tiny stride toward complete potty proficiency. There's been enough rain to get the "splashies" out of any puddle-jumper's system. I got my hair cut.
Evidently, getting my hair cut was the most exciting event of all. My mother was geeked because she's maintained super-short hair for most of her life. For as long as she could, she kept my hair about a couple inches long and permed the hey-diddle-diddle out of it. Of course, for the longest time her mother kept her hair in long braids, so all that makes sense, in a weird kind of way.
My son was pretty sure that this meant he'd get his hair trimmed, too. For several months now, whenever Daddy goes to get his hair cut, our son is getting the same. Why should Mommy's 'do day be any different?
The hubberband, on the other hand, was.... a little more toward luke-warm on the whole idea. When we met, so so many moons ago, my hair tickled my waist. He loved my long hair and all the goofy college-girl things I'd do to it. He loved the pony-tails and braids. He thought the buns and up-do's were amusing. He thought the long-flowing look was cozy....and aside from all that, he just really liked the femininity of long hair. It remained about that long for the next four years...when I graduated and got a real job....with a real paycheck.... and REALLY wanted my hair out of my way as I ran after first-graders all day.
I wanted a break from the length...and the maintenance! Spending an hour brushing tangles out of my hair was just not on my to-do list. Buying a new bottle of conditioner every week wasn't all that great, either. Always having ties and barrettes on hand?! It was time for a change. Since that first major cut, I've gone back and forth between hair that ends at my earlobes and hair that drops just past my shoulders. Every time I get it cut, he pouts for a few minutes and mourns the loss of a detail he holds so dear. I feel bad every time; really I do! But when the temperatures rise and humidity graces my skin, I choose comfort over beauty.
I created a page for my husband's album (100 reasons why I love him) so he could go back and look at the longer hair until it grows again. Mainly, it's a tongue-in-cheek kind of thing. The design is based on the . Again, if you're the crafty type, I recommend you check them out.
Evidently, getting my hair cut was the most exciting event of all. My mother was geeked because she's maintained super-short hair for most of her life. For as long as she could, she kept my hair about a couple inches long and permed the hey-diddle-diddle out of it. Of course, for the longest time her mother kept her hair in long braids, so all that makes sense, in a weird kind of way.
My son was pretty sure that this meant he'd get his hair trimmed, too. For several months now, whenever Daddy goes to get his hair cut, our son is getting the same. Why should Mommy's 'do day be any different?
The hubberband, on the other hand, was.... a little more toward luke-warm on the whole idea. When we met, so so many moons ago, my hair tickled my waist. He loved my long hair and all the goofy college-girl things I'd do to it. He loved the pony-tails and braids. He thought the buns and up-do's were amusing. He thought the long-flowing look was cozy....and aside from all that, he just really liked the femininity of long hair. It remained about that long for the next four years...when I graduated and got a real job....with a real paycheck.... and REALLY wanted my hair out of my way as I ran after first-graders all day.
I wanted a break from the length...and the maintenance! Spending an hour brushing tangles out of my hair was just not on my to-do list. Buying a new bottle of conditioner every week wasn't all that great, either. Always having ties and barrettes on hand?! It was time for a change. Since that first major cut, I've gone back and forth between hair that ends at my earlobes and hair that drops just past my shoulders. Every time I get it cut, he pouts for a few minutes and mourns the loss of a detail he holds so dear. I feel bad every time; really I do! But when the temperatures rise and humidity graces my skin, I choose comfort over beauty.
I created a page for my husband's album (100 reasons why I love him) so he could go back and look at the longer hair until it grows again. Mainly, it's a tongue-in-cheek kind of thing. The design is based on the . Again, if you're the crafty type, I recommend you check them out.
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