This week I have gone from being positive that I am currently living the most miserable existence that has ever been, to feeling ridiculously smug about how awesome my life is.

I don’t think I have ever had PMS so bad that even I noticed it.  It was also kind of unfortunate that this was the week that husband worked from home.  I should probably let him buy another car or something.

But it’s New Years Eve, I’m medicated, and thanks to Jane, there’s a 5+ foot inflatable palm tree in my living room.  We’re going to try and ring in the new year around 6 - I think that’s when South Africa does, and they might have palm trees.  Maybe.  If you actually have a life and are in the mood to leave the house, be safe.  Make memories.  Sleep in.  Aaaaand the awesomeness may now commence.  

I officially love my new hair person.

dagnabit

I need enchiladas. I suddenly, desperately need enchiladas. I can’t make enchiladas (ask husband - there have been countless attempts). Can someone please hop in a plane and bring me enchiladas????

(I am aware this also fits in the First World Problem category.)

(Rereading this, I am also aware it sounds like I am knocked up. Rest assured I am not. Completely the opposite in fact. We can file that in the Too Much Information folder.)

hair hair hair

Out with the new, in with the old. I went darker last month because I thought I was a brunette, but apparently I’m a blonde. Seriously, I think my hair is dark, but I don’t look good with darker hair and the stylist showed me a chart thingy that proved I am the darkest blonde on the spectrum which is why my features just don’t jive with the darker hair. Lame.

So, I’m getting highlights back in, although she says it will take a while before the blue will actually be gone. Blue was fun, but it’s not my color either. Grrr. When the blue finally leaves the building, I’m thinking red…. or pink… Let’s file this post under “first world problems,” mkay?

GPOYW - That’s my knee edition. I’m tired, we’re playing Nickelodeon Wii. Woo.

I have never once successfully threaded a sewing machine.  I’m a 2 steps kinda gal, and I just can’t do it.

But I WANT to sew.  Really I do.  I love clothes.  I REALLY want to try and make this dress for WonderGirl.  I got a sewing machine for Christmas with an instructional DVD.  I’ve watched it twice, but I’m still so nervous I can’t take the machine out of the box.

Gulp.  Here goes…

Merry Christmas Eve eve!

via ihatemyparents:

I pity myself.

GPOYW - so exhausted. Also, Jane says I take too many pictures of my profile, so here’s as straight on as I’ll go today - edition.

1901 : Phoenix I just fell down the stairs while holding the Dude. I think I’ll be fine - he’s unscathed, I just bruised up my back and wrenched one shoulder. WonderGirl was horrified - especially after I spent a good minute screaming on the floor (everyone who would be surprised to know I can be fairly dramatic, raise your hands. Nobody? Mmhmm) so she insisted on doing a dance to this song to cheer me up. It seemed fitting.

1901 : Phoenix

I just fell down the stairs while holding the Dude. I think I’ll be fine - he’s unscathed, I just bruised up my back and wrenched one shoulder. WonderGirl was horrified - especially after I spent a good minute screaming on the floor (everyone who would be surprised to know I can be fairly dramatic, raise your hands. Nobody? Mmhmm) so she insisted on doing a dance to this song to cheer me up. It seemed fitting.

home again, jiggety jig

Dad is at home now.  The next bit is the hard part, but I think mom is up to the challenge.  Seriously, if you ever are completely incapacitated and need someone to nurse you back to the living, the best thing EVER would be having my mom at your side.  She’ll sleep on the floor next to your bed for weeks, helping you every hour of the day or night (she’s done it, too), she won’t stop to eat or breathe or even go to the bathroom because she’s so focused on the job at hand, she follows doctor’s orders like a soldier and knows just how to throw in a bit of pampering too.  If you could pray for an added dose of energy for her, I’d be grateful.  And so will my dad.

woo

Dad is out of surgery and they said it was as routine as it could be.  Continue to cross your fingers, please.

If you are the praying kind, I’d appreciate a few thrown my dad’s way tomorrow. He’s going in for surgery. He is taking a jackhammer to this cancer and with this operation, the prognosis looks promising, but we could all use a few more prayers, right? Because we can always use more Papa Bear, too.

honest.

A while back, delightsandshadows had a gorgeous baby.  There had been previous pregnancies that hadn’t made it to term so the birth of Mini was/is truly a wonderful thing.  After she’d climbed out of that huge just-had-a-baby-my-entire-life-is-upside-down haze, she posted the most beautifully written description of that transition into motherhood that I have ever read.  (She’s a psychotherapist.  Seriously awesome brain.)  The most accurate and honest - just reading it made me understand myself better. It’s called Grieving the Dream and I think I’ll print it out and hand it to every expecting mother I know.  It’s not negative, it’s not fluff.  It’s just not easy stuff and it’s good to know that it happens, whether we plan on it or not.

(incidentally, the comment by “another mom” at the bottom of the post is PERFECT.)

So this last week, apparently she received an e.mail from a reader disagreeing with allowing herself to grieve her previous life as she embarked on a new one because of how much work it took to finally have this baby.  She responded to it beautifully.

Sometimes people tell me they are proud of me for my honesty when I talk about how hard this has all been.  And I get confused.  Why not be honest?  Why not talk about how hard it is?  Why on earth wouldn’t you talk about this??  I honestly have no idea why a person would find fault with someone for talking about the reality of this all.  It’s not bad, it’s not horrible, but it’s not easy for everyone.  It doesn’t make it any less worth it.  It’s not easy to build a house but it’s awesome to not be homeless…. Okay, I’ll leave the fancy analogies to everyone else.  I’ll handle the brutal honesty.

Okay - one more video of the night. This is a hot mess of Rudolph - WonderGirl had gotten a taste for the mic and begged to sing this one, despite not knowing most of the lyrics. (and I’m seriously out of tune watching the madness… whatever. Ignore me). No, this clip is all about the Dude. This is what we like to call the Sumo Dance. If you don’t watch this and start desperately wanting a little Dude of your own, you may have no soul. Just sayin’.

Last night our family headed to a nursing home with some friends to play some Christmas carols. Our buddy is a percussionist and is an absolute playing junkie. I’ve never known anyone who LOVED to play as much as him - anywhere, anytime. Those are fun friends to have. We let WonderGirl up to the mic to sing Jingle Bells… she was so excited at points, she forgot to sing, but did not forget to rock. Good golly, she’s magnificent. disclaimer: There is a note that’s out of tune, and I was feeling stiff. So don’t judge. I swear I am usually less lame and more awesome. Whatever. Just watch my kid. It’s high-larious.

Love of an Orchestra : Noah and the Whale I’ve been trying to decide whether I want this song played at my funeral, or the video. I also want to petition Noah and the Whale to make the song 57 minute longer. LOVE.IT.

dear car keys:

You are there for the insanity.  You are there in the car when tantrums go down.  You have heard the Veggie Tales Singing Christmas Album over one million times (don’t hate, there’s a surprisingly good rendition of Handel’s For Unto Us A Child Is Born… and 4 others I immediately skip over - you’re welcome).  You are especially there for the dismount.  You see me drag armfuls of grocery bags, library books, diaper bags, purses, snack and sippy cups under one arm and an unwillingly overdressed toddler in the other arm while trying not to brush my lovely pink winter coat on the grime-covered car.  You know I have to get everything from the car in ONE TRIP because if not, poor said toddler will be so beside himself with hunger/grief at my absence that he’ll plow his head through the flat screen.  You are there when we barely make it up the stairs in the garage and collapse through the door into the house in one huge mound of bags, coats, snowy boots and crazy.  And in that chaos, you know that you often get mixed into the madness.

Now, do I immediately dig around to find you and put you somewhere safe?  I apologize that I do not.  I usually run for the kitchen to grab a bottle to stop the Dude’s screaming, or lunge at WonderGirl’s boots before she tracks snow and dirt ALL OVER THE HOUSE.

You know all this.  You do.  So, knowing that you know this, may I make a small request?  Could you please just SHOW YOURSELF when I am late and dashing around the living room screaming “WHERE ARE MY KEYS?!?!”  You know I have very good reasons for not putting you at the top of my list.  I still very much appreciate you.  You are a HUGE part of Team Mom.  You are great, I mean it.  So have some compassion, dagnabit.

Sincerely,

I OWN YOU.  Just sayin’.  I do.

AHHHH!!!  I love how Paul looks like Archie!!!!

(via maisonhayes)

The Cave : Mumford & Sons Right around 1:04 is when I can’t take it any more, I HAVE to close my eyes and jump up and down. There’s something about a good banjo… thanks to a kind security guard at my high school, I spent almost my entire senior year listening exclusively to Bela Fleck and the Flecktones.

The Cave : Mumford & Sons

Right around 1:04 is when I can’t take it any more, I HAVE to close my eyes and jump up and down.  There’s something about a good banjo… thanks to a kind security guard at my high school, I spent almost my entire senior year listening exclusively to Bela Fleck and the Flecktones.

GPOYW - Reva, the Dude and a Christmas tree edition.

I’m waiting for my turn to play. I have a gig! The local college has a choir that needed some fiddle to back ‘em up. I look extra fancy in my concert black.

It’s small, but it feels so, so good to do the one thing I’m good at every once in a while.

It is -13 right now.

How am I supposed to retain any sanity at all????

Okay… must… get… perspective…

But I swear, if one more person on Facebook writes an asinine “lol, it’s 95 degrees here!” I’m getting violent.

C’mon Reva, find a happy place.

(via livinglovinglaughingtoday)

inothernews:

Community

heehee!

S.A.D.

I thought maybe I got Seasonal Affective Disorder in the cold months.  Turns out I do get SAD, but my version stands for Seasonal Anger Disorder.  Snow+cold+neverending=MAD.REVA.

We had our first big snowstorm this weekend - church was cancelled, it took the husband over 2 hours to plow the driveway, and I stayed in the house with the kids the entire time.  Now, I do that verra often.  Unless the weather is good here, there is NOWHERE.TO.GO.  No “let’s pop in the car and see our friend!” or “let’s be spontaneous and run to that great kid-friendly place in the 90 minutes before the Dude has to go down for a nap AGAIN!”  Well, there is the library, but it is not Dude friendly.  He eats books.  I’m used to having no options, I am.  I don’t enjoy it, but I get it.

Now though, the snow has come.  The big snow.  The snow that will last and last and last and last.  Piles of snow next to the street as tall as I am (or taller) and snow packed so thick on the roads that I won’t see pavement in most places until March.  I am not a great driver, (despite growing up in Colorado - although the roads don’t STAY that bad in Denver.  It melts, frequently) but now with the snow AND the fact that my van is a good Southern van and skids all over the road with the least provocation, I.AM.MAD.  I am mad because not only there is nowhere to go, but I really can’t go anywhere anyway.  It took me 15 minutes to get 2 kids dressed to get in the car and then 25 minutes to drive the 4 mile round-trip to WonderGirl’s preschool.  I drove soooo slow, but the roads and my van decided to go ice skating so then I had to drive even slower.    Like 8 mph slow.  I took the main road in town, hoping it would be clearer, but no dice.  There were 6 cars following me so close I could almost hear them breathing (there are 2 lanes!! Pass me, durn it!!), so on the way home I decided to take the back way, only to have some old guy with a handicapped sticker on his car hug my bumper almost the entire time.  And I still got stuck briefly and swerved a bit.  

I’m mad.  I’m mad that we live close to interesting things - like Circus World, a small zoo and gazillions of parks and I can’t take my kids to ANY of them until at least April.  Stupid snow and cold!!  If it was just snow, maybe, but I have a 15 month old who gets madder with each layer on him (if you have ever had a 15 month old, you know trying to get them to do something good for them is like asking an animal not to bite at its stitches).  Yes, I’m actually mad at the weather.  I’m not mad at the town (maybe the drivers a little bit), or the fact that we live here.  I’m thrilled beyond belief that my husband is gainfully employed.  I am so thankful that he supports us so well - from getting that paycheck, to keeping a fire in the fireplace to knowing how to work the snowplow and never once let us down.  He is amazing. 

No, I’m literally mad at the weather.  FURIOUS.  I’m probably going to have a heart attack by New Years because of violently angry I am.  I need a hotline to call where I can dial in, talk to an actual adult and have them be angrier than I am so I can see how ridiculous I’m being.  

I don’t want to drive up to the pearly gates in a shiny sports car, wearing beautifully, tailored clothes, my hair expertly coiffed, and with long, perfectly manicured fingernails. I want to drive up in a station wagon that has mud on the wheels from taking kids to scout camp. I want to be there with a smudge of peanut butter on my shirt from making sandwiches for a sick neighbors children. I want to be there with a little dirt under my fingernails from helping to weed someone’s garden. I want to be there with children’s sticky kisses on my cheeks and the tears of a friend on my shoulder. I want the Lord to know I was really here and that I really lived.

I don’t want to drive up to the pearly gates in a shiny sports car, wearing beautifully, tailored clothes, my hair expertly coiffed, and with long, perfectly manicured fingernails. I want to drive up in a station wagon that has mud on the wheels from taking kids to scout camp. I want to be there with a smudge of peanut butter on my shirt from making sandwiches for a sick neighbors children. I want to be there with a little dirt under my fingernails from helping to weed someone’s garden. I want to be there with children’s sticky kisses on my cheeks and the tears of a friend on my shoulder. I want the Lord to know I was really here and that I really lived.
Marjorie Pay Hinckley (via findingjoyinthejourney)

WONDER-TONIC: 4chan Declares War On Snow

WONDER-TONIC: 4chan Declares War On Snow

(via wondertonic)

A loosely-organized group of internet activists known as Anonymous announced on Sunday that it was declaring war on the meteorologic phenomenon known as snow. The hacker group, born out of the influential internet messageboard 4chan and responsible for the recent attacks against MasterCard and… read more

I’m not down with crazy hacking, but this actually makes sense.   WE CANNOT LET THE SNOW WIN.

(via findingjoyinthejourney) “Because of Your Faith,” by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland. October General Conference, 2010. A portion of the talk: “My thanks to all you wonderful members of the Church—and legions of good people not of our faith—for proving every day of your life that the pure love of Christ ‘never faileth.’ No one of you is insignificant, in part because you make the gospel of Jesus Christ what it is—a living reminder of His grace and mercy, a private but powerful manifestation in small villages and large cities of the good He did and the life He gave bringing peace and salvation to other people. We are honored beyond expression to be counted one with you in such a sacred cause. As Jesus said to the Nephites, so say I today: ‘Because of your faith … , my joy is full. And when he had said these words, he wept.’” Click here to read the entire talk. This talk makes me weep. Daily. As in, I read it daily for a pick-me-up and I have never once read it without crying. So yes, I cry the good kind of tears at least once a day. I dare you to read it and not choke up. Elder Holland was definitely inspired to write this.

(via findingjoyinthejourney)

“Because of Your Faith,” by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland. October General Conference, 2010.

A portion of the talk:

“My thanks to all you wonderful members of the Church—and legions of good people not of our faith—for proving every day of your life that the pure love of Christ ‘never faileth.’ No one of you is insignificant, in part because you make the gospel of Jesus Christ what it is—a living reminder of His grace and mercy, a private but powerful manifestation in small villages and large cities of the good He did and the life He gave bringing peace and salvation to other people. We are honored beyond expression to be counted one with you in such a sacred cause.

As Jesus said to the Nephites, so say I today:

‘Because of your faith … , my joy is full.

And when he had said these words, he wept.’”

Click here to read the entire talk. 

This talk makes me weep.  Daily.  As in, I read it daily for a pick-me-up and I have never once read it without crying.  So yes, I cry the good kind of tears at least once a day.  I dare you to read it and not choke up.  Elder Holland was definitely inspired to write this.

(via dad-isms)

All spouses are trophy spouses, to the happily married
 

Alcohol makes people sad. It’s like the Lifetime movie of beverages.

Alcohol makes people sad. It’s like the Lifetime movie of beverages.
Troy on Community.  AWESOME episode.

Aaaaaaaaagh!!!

That was my 1,000th post on this blog!!  I was going to do something all special-like for it… actually, that link was pretty special :)  

The Most Damning Wikileaks Cable You'll Ever Read

The Most Damning Wikileaks Cable You'll Ever Read

Hey, I read and loved both books, but Team Hermione!

“The mother and father and other caretakers are really the baby’s favorite playthings.  Toy manufacturers are desperately trying to make a toy that lights up, makes sounds, and moves, all in synchrony with one another.  This is really what parents and caretakers do when they interact with babies.” - Andrew Meltzoff, Ph.D.

This is my mantra for this toy buying season.  Get presents they can be creative with, but also to recommit myself to being the best playmate I can be.

This book is GOLD.  Thank you, mom!!!

GPOYW - the Trying to take a self-portrait but the Dude just grabbed my face and started poking his fingers in my mouth - edition.

when we're helping we're happy

I’m a thinking-thoughtful person.  I think lots of things.  I’m usually thinking.  But one thing I really wish I could change about myself would be that I’d rather be a ACTING-thoughtful person.  When I try to go ahead and do something thoughtful, it’s almost always a trainwreck.  If you are my friend, you are very likely the recipient of a gift that you had to smile-and-nod at.  I am terrible at picking out gifts, or doing something for someone that didn’t just get in the way.  Every time I give someone something, or do some act of kindness I concocted in my brain, a warning sound goes off in my head yelling “YOU KNOW THEY’D BE BETTER OFF WITH THE CASH YOU SPENT ON THIS.”  I miss birthdays and Christmas all the time just fretting about what I could give or do but can’t seem to get any ideas.

But man, I have the most thoughtful friends and family in the entire universe.  The kind of people who will jump in a car or plane to visit if I need it, who give the most amazing gifts, and can make the most amazing plans or things … they are insanely awesome.  I am so richly blessed in loved ones that it’s ridiculous.  I never feel like I can adequately pay-it-forward.  I overthink, I miss the point, I buy a swimming pool for someone who needs a drink of water.  Bah.

So all this being said, I really want to feel less helpless when I see a friend in need.   What was the most helpful thing someone did for you when you needed a hand?

The kids and I at a water park last summer.  Did you know I live 15 minutes from the most water parks per capita in the entire world?  Oh, and America’s largest water park too.  So why have you not visited me yet??

via npr:

Attention cartography geeks! NPR’s Robert Krulwich takes a looks at websites that let you superimpose maps on top of each other to compare the relative size of various things. For example, what would the dimensions of the gulf oil spill look like if it were superimposed on the US east coast? Or how many big countries could you fit into all of Africa?

What I really like about this post is that I’ve tried to do map overlays manually in the past and it wasn’t very easy to do. Back in the ‘06 Israel-Lebanon war, I took a Google Map image of the war zone and superimposed it over New England. (Haifa to Beirut is about the same distance as Providence, RI to Lowell, MA, in case you’re wondering.) But it was really tough to do, especially given my limited tech skills. So if you’re a map nerd like I am, I hope you enjoy Robert’s post as much as I did. - @acarvin

One of the few pictures I actually have of myself on my lapytopy.  This is from the zoo here in ClownTown in October.  (I’m something like 6 posts from my 1,000th on this blog!!)

My mom this past October.  Retirement looks fabulous on her, n’est pas?

At Devil’s Lake last summer.  The Dude was so excited about the water, he kept laughing hysterically and plowing headfirst into the water.  It would have been slightly more adorable had we NOT been trying to keep him alive.

Tumblr is up so I’m a-gonna post pictures.  Because I can.  This was from the husband’s birthday in June.  My love for streamers knows no bounds.

HOLY SNAPOLI

TUMBLR WAS DEAD AND IT MADE ME SO VIOLENTLY ILL. OHHH THE THINGS I COULD HAVE BLOGGED ABOUT BUT I COULDN’T. IT WAS AWFUL, AWFUL I TELL YOU.

HMM.  AWFUL LOOKS WEIRD IF YOU LOOK AT IT TOO LONG.

ACTUALLY, NOTHING INTERESTING HAPPENED EXCEPT TUMBLR WENT DOWN AND I COULDN’T BLOG.  

It was horrible.  I think in this circumstance, the caps lock is completely appropriate.  I BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!

Click me.

Click me.

Only if you love the Harry Potteresses.  This scene is in my top gazzillion of best parts of the movie.

Two awesome things: first, I painted this plate at my mother’s group this morning. It’s meant to be a special day type thing, and I currently cannot stop admiring it. Gloating, really. I’m sure there’s a deadly sin associated with how I feel about this plate. Second, the Dude has officially learned how to hug. The whole enchilada - toddling over to you, intentionally crawling into your lap, burying his head in your chest, wrapping his wee arms around your neck and squeezing. Honestly, sometimes I pity every other human on this planet. Being me kind of rocks.

GPOYW - Scary edition.  Since my computer is angered, I’m on the husband’s that has all the data storage, and old pictures.  This was taken in the Atlanta airport in July 2006 just before heading to Brasil.    

Man, we’re nuts.

(via realreason)

It’s snowing.  Reva mad.

I really do have the best friends ever.  Thanks for making my day, Dani!