Scarlett is going to have a food blog someday because every time I ask her what I should write about she says, "Cookies. A box of candy. Candy. I love candy."
Also, I'm pretty sure I broke my foot. Maybe not literally, but functionally, it's broken. And purple. It was green, now it's purplish-blue. It looks dead. It's probably sprained, but I didn't really want to go to the ER because they were just going to tell me it's sprained and then charge me to have told me something I already knew. Brian assures me that they wouldn't have given me painkillers, which is the only reason I would have gone. You have to have dreams.
The chipped nail polish gives it a little something extra, don't you think?
I've lost my blogging mojo, and I'm pretty sure the kids have it — along with my sense of humor.
I'm sure that most of what happens in my daily life is hilarious from an outside perspective, but I'm in it deep, and I'm having a lot of trouble finding the kernel of absurdity that's supposedly buried in here with me. Recently, I had a real-life God of Carnage moment in which I channeled Veronica, but instead of taking my anger out on Annette's handbag, I took it out on a basket. Yes, there was stomping. No, it was not pretty. Read more…
That bubble is either a small town in Ohio or motherhood. I've been staring out the window trying to figure it out exactly. Not really sure which one, although I'm leaning toward the latter. Really, I'm sitting here pondering that because I'm totally blocked up writing my grad school application essay. It's half done, and the Wiggles are running on repeat, turning my brain into soup — even Scarlett just exclaimed, "Not again?!" My goal is to have my application in by Monday. Lord, help me. Read more…
Four years ago — yes, just four years ago around 9:30 PM on October 22nd — I went into labor. Don't think your life can change that much in four years? Well, think again. It's a total mind screw to think that I was living in New York City watching The Office (it was a Thursday) when little Miss Scarlett let us know that she was ready to meet the world (a week early, of course). I was temping; Brian was tele-commuting and waiting tables. Now, we have two children, Brian's in medical school, and I'm headed back to grad school. Straight cray, y'all.
One of these days, I'll get around to writing Scarlett's birth story, which was exciting to say the least, but for now, here are some pictures of my sweet little baby girl on her birthdays. Happy 4th birthday, Sugar Bear.
Just born and wrapped up like a love burrito.
Her first birthday. I made a "healthy cake." She liked it, probably because it was the only cake she'd ever had.
Chocolate cake for her second birthday. Look at the joy.
Last year on her third birthday — so much pink, so much happiness.
It's quiet. Too quiet. For approximately the next two hours, until I have to wake Leo up to leave to pick Scarlett up from preschool, I have the house, and the silence within, to myself. I should run quickly and start some laundry or clean the bathroom, but I feel like that would be a waste of precious, precious time alone. So, I'll spend that time on the Interwebs as that is always the most logical and natural choice.
Today, I'm getting my hair cut for the first time since our move — at a new salon, with a new stylist. I spent the last few years working on my relationships with Carla and Samer, and now I feel like we've broken up because we knew long distance wouldn't work, and I have to get back out there and meet new stylists, and I really just want to be in a long-term relationship, and this is the first date. I hope I don't reek of desperation. However, I'm pretty excited because I have a mullet right now, and I'd like it to be gone. Read more…
You guys. I didn't think it was possible, but I think I may have run out of things to say. I mean, I have plenty to say, but frankly, I'm kind of tired of one-way conversations. And now that I've shut down my Facebook, it really feels like I'm talking to myself here. I know, I know — I should write for the love of writing and just put it out there, blah, blah, blah, but I'd really rather have some conversations up in here. Anyway, we're really busy, and I don't always have time to expound on the issues in my life. I'll sum up.
I'm applying to grad school for a second master's degree in music therapy.
Brian is in medical school.
Brian is in medical school. (This bears repeating.)
I'm teaching part-time, singing part-time, volunteering part-time, and staying home full-time with Scarlett and Leo. No, it doesn't add up. Math was never my strongest suit.
Scarlett is almost four years old. Leo is one. Everyone tells me I will be a normal person again in two to three years. Oh, good.
So there you have it. Like I said: we're busy.
I need to go brush up my Italian, German, and French diction now for my grad school audition. It's been 10 years since I applied the first time around. How did that happen? And that also means that it's been 10 years since a little Chihuahua named Zoë came into our lives. She's still as awesomely strange as she's always been. I love you, you cranky old lady.
I still don't know why people take pictures of their shoes, but here's Zo. We're still crazy, after all these years.