Greatest photobomb ever.

Wazzuuuuppp penguins?!?! Seals in da houuuuuse!!

wherein i say the funniest thing i have ever said and do not get the mad props i deserve

In my younger days (B.P. - Before Parenthood) I would sometimes call my mom on the psycho stuff she’d done to us as kids.  Typical character-building stuff, forcing us to learn useful life skills, and all the nutritional, healthy food she fed us.  I know, the horror!

Now I call my mom in tears, thanking her for all she gave us, but most importantly, for not killing me in particular.  How on earth she survived raising me I will never understand.  She’ll be the first to admit she had no idea what she was doing either, but she never stopped doing it and giving everything she had.  And even more amazingly, she still loves me.  This woman is freaking bionic.  But that’s not the point of this post.

So the other day, we were chatting and I was freaking out about parenting and she was comforting me and making me feel like a bazillion bucks.  It’s kind of our thing.  I asked her how on earth she could still love me after my significant amount of psycho as a kid, and she lovingly asked me how I could still love her after all her failings as a mother (pppfffft).

Instead of saying something sweet and kind about how she’s nuts, she was amaaaazing as a mother, I deadpanned: “Simple.  It was Stockholm Syndrome.”

…. okay, that was funny!!!  But of course my sainted mother started pontificating about that instead of laughing her buns off.  She’s just too good.  But when I told Husband my punchline later, he snorted once and declared, “That’s the funniest thing you have ever said.”

I know, right??  Smart, funny, it’s a punchline worthy of one of those comedy shows on my television-box.  But all he did was snort.  Once. 

So for once, intrawebs, I’m going to authorize copious amounts of “LOL” commenting.  Validate me, darn it.

* FYI, mom, you were and are AMAAAAZING.  I’m the luckiest crazy person alive.*

* Also, the new layout is still a work in progress, but voila.  Thanks to all my linky friends!!  You can still give me your link so I can plaster you up here and stalk you properly.  Link to the linkylist is to the right, merci! *

Weezer - Can’t Stop Partying Partying and Friday go together, right? This is typical Weezer, catchy and cool, and it’s even more catchy when you hear your 3 year old belting along with the lyrics she thinks they’re saying: ”I can’t stop… pottying pottying…!”

Weezer - Can’t Stop Partying

Partying and Friday go together, right?  This is typical Weezer, catchy and cool, and it’s even more catchy when you hear your 3 year old belting along with the lyrics she thinks they’re saying:  ”I can’t stop… pottying pottying…!”

throwback thursday

I’m going to start a new thing here on the blog - Throwback Thursday.  Ever Thursday I’m going to post an oldie entry.  I’ve been blogging almost 10 years, and even though most of it is an embarrassing mess of hormones and angst, there’s some laughs if you dig deep enough.  Why not walk down memory lane once in a while?  It makes me intensely grateful that I am not 20 anymore.  Sure, I miss my old pants size - but that’s about it :)

Today’s snippet comes from October 9, 2001.  I was in my (second) senior year at North Texas and was dancing it up every Friday night at church dances, just like any decent Mormon rockstar.

 

So away from the cats, my life rages on. I went dancing with Danielle Saturday night and had a marvelous time.

Except for one incident that I hope women everywhere will be offended by:

I was dancing with one boy for a few of the last dances because he happened to know how to dance. Not dreamy, tall or fit, mind you, but a good dancer (you’ll understand why I’m not being terribly complimentary in a moment).

We were discussing lifts and arials and the fancy swing moves I do with MatMunch and my brother Rhys, when he asked how much I weighed. To see if I was too big for him to try a stunt with, I think.

I wasn’t insulted. I’m not freaked by that question. At least I wasn’t BEFORE.

So, I answered 135 because yes, I’ve been packing on the pounds and it’s better than still trying for 130.

So the guy dips me, lifts me back up and says  - “no, you’re about 140.”

YOU DON’T DO THAT. YOU DO NOT TELL A WOMAN SHE WEIGHS MORE THAN SHE JUST TOLD YOU. YOU DO NOT TELL A WOMAN THAT. I AM STILL FURIOUS. HE IS A STUPID MAN THAT DESERVES TO REMAIN SINGLE.

and I just told the entire internet world that I’m reaching 140.

I’m going to go drown myself in a chocolate shake.

………………

Big thanks to everyone who has already submitted your link for me!  I’m still a-working of my new layout but you just made my life much easier!!  You can still add it if you want - because I want to be reading you.  You obviously have impeccable taste :)  Merci!

GPOYW - it’s Wednesday already??? edition.  I could have sworn it was Tuesday.  Such is the glamorous life of a Wisconsin housewife.   On the docket today is mugging on the Dude, putting WonderGirl down for a nap, and trying to pack.  Is there anyone out there who LIKES to pack?  Because I’ll give you all my stuff.  You just have to come over to my place, pack it all up and then haul it away.  And then I will go to Ikea and buy more stuff.  The suburban circle of life… it’s so dang beautiful.

* Have you submitted your link yet??  Remember, no need to sign up for anything, just type in your url so I can link to your blog.  Instant intraweb infamy! (Holy alliteration, Batman!)  I want to be reading you!

housekeeping

I’m working on changing the layout of the blog again. I love what I have now, but unfortch the sidebar just isn’t cutting it. Too squishy. And has anyone noticed that my link list is actually 3 years old and in desperate need of updating? I mean, at least half those people don’t even blog anymore! And that’s where you come in. I have amazing readers, but I don’t have links to you and I WANT to. Even if you don’t comment (though you should… it’s SOOO much fun!) I want to know so we can be reading you!

So could y’all do me this wee favor and click on the link below? You don’t have to register for anything, just type in your blog name and addy and hit go. It’ll just take a second, and you’ll be famous foreverrrrr. Also, if your name is Natalie and you survived living with me in college for two years, puleeeeze gimme your link because I keep losing it and I love reading your blog, I do.

Merci!

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I love this t-shirt. It’s the kind of shirt that I can wear on days that every other shirt in my closet is way too tight, and it lovingly pretends that didn’t just happen.  Ah, sweet, kind shirt!  But I don’t wear it very often lately… because I fear… does the design make me look like Jon Gosselin??   It’s not Ed Hardy but every time I look at it I wonder if anyone will think I’m a crazed divorced dad with 8 kids.  Please say no so I can go back to wearing it without fear!

over here! I exist!

I woke up this morning to find my last post was featured at Today in the Bloggernacle.  Holy validation, Batman!  It’s always such a lovely shock to know perfect strangers read your corner of the web.  Blogging is my most favoritest vice.  That, and making up words (I’ve been reading Seuss to WonderGirl lately, can you tell?).

So to pay it forward, I want to alert y’all to one of the most insightful and awesome blogs I currently stalk - Dad-isms.  Notes from a 38 year old dad to his 3 kids.  He has a unique and sweet perspective as a father and husband who also is/was a widow (now remarried).  If you REALLY want your stomach to turn to mush, he has another blog filled with simple love letters, the kind of things we should remember to say to our spouses every day.

Isn’t the interweb grand??

the gist of things

When Husband was talking to me earlier this week and called me “well-accomplished,” I was really flattered, but struck by the tense of the word.  No one ever calls someone “well-accomplishing” - it’s always in the past tense.

That’s exactly how I feel.  Acomplished.  I’m really proud of what I did.  But now… well, I don’t do much of anything.  (And yes, I KNOW being a mom isn’t nothing, but really, compared to how hard I worked my butt off for the first 26 years of my life, I kind of feel like I’m on some weird vacation.)

I’m finally coming to terms with it all.

Back in grad school I was dating this uberloser who told me I was selfish for getting a masters, because I should be focusing on preparing to be a mom.  

Yeah…  I think I swallowed my gum.

I was so hurt and confused.  Selfish??  What I was doing was REALLY HARD.  I knew plenty of people my age who weren’t doing anything nearly as difficult (him included - he was a waiter.  I sure could pick ‘em) and I knew full well I could give up right then and drop out.  I already had my college degree, I didn’t have to do it.  I didn’t even really want to - it was the worst 2 years of my life.

I was doing it for my kids.  I didn’t know if I would ever get married, or if I’d ever be a mom, but I knew that when my dad was laid-off when I was a girl, my mom had the education to step in and get a job good enough to keep our family afloat.  I knew an undergraduate degree in violin performance wouldn’t do much in the world - there are gazzillions of people out there who play far better than me - but if I got a masters, I knew I would have the ability to get jobs that could keep me and a potential family financially taken care of.

I also wanted a graduate degree for my theoretical daughter.  I respect my mom for her insane work ethic, her brilliant mind and all she’s been able to do with her degrees.  I wanted my daughter to look at what I’d done and know she was capable of doing the same thing.

I tried telling the moron that, but instead he dumped me.  Thank heavens.

So I graduated, got this crazy demanding job across the country, had a whirlwind romance and got married, joined a band, recorded an album, quit the job and became so in demand as a private teacher I had to stop answering my phone so I wouldn’t have to turn any more people down.

Then, there was this crossroads… stay in Atlanta and try to keep doing what we were doing, or take this insane leap and move to Brasil to make a huge gamble at furthering Husband’s career, while giving up mine.  

As I sat in the airplane about to take off, 8 months pregnant, I suddenly realized I’d left my phone in the airport.  I knew it wouldn’t work in Brasil, but I frantically ran to the front of the plane to see if anyone could get it for me.  It was gone.  I sat in my seat sobbing.  The last piece of my former life - the cell phone that rang incessantly with gig offers and students - was gone.  I felt… empty.  Completely disoriented.  I had nothing left but my husband at my side and the luggage we were carrying. 

Nothing has ever been the same since that moment.  I became a mom and went through that storm, then returned to the states a different person.  I was now completely dependent on my Husband, and I was a full-time mom.  I’d never in my life considered that I’d ever be a full-time mom, but now there was no other option.  I got back into gigging and teaching, but it wasn’t the same, and 2 years later I found myself leaving it all behind again.  

As I sat in the car driving away from Atlanta last summer, I felt something similar to that dark moment in the airplane.  I again had given up things that I’d built for this unit we’d created, this family.  It was still insanely painful, but I didn’t feel as disoriented.  I had this little girl in the seat behind me, a new life in my tummy, and a Husband who loved me and knew - and appreciated at the deepest level - what I’d given up.  That he appreciates it… that makes all the difference.

And now, I feel… accomplished.  Past tense.  I go through every day by the skin of my teeth because I have no idea what I’m doing.  I know most of us are.  I don’t do the one thing I actually know how to do.  I literally can’t - the Dude is a freaking tank and carrying him around has made my arms hurt so much that I can only play my violin for a little while before my muscles demand I cut it out.

I feel like the jury is still out on what I’m accomplishing now.  What I accomplished in my former life took about 26 years, so I shouldn’t expect results for this new life after only 3.  

But I’m okay.  I know I made my decision.  It was me or us, and I chose us.  I’m just so deeply thankful that I did accomplish so much before I became a mom.  Because when things get hard, and they do every freaking day, I know I can do it, because I’ve done HARD, and I can do it again.  It makes me feel like I’m worth something.  I have a friend whose knowledge of her worth comes from the fact that she delivered 3 babies naturally.  Every day when she feels overwhelmed with the life she has with 3 little boys, she reminds herself that she knows hard.  She can do this.  Boo-ya.  As for me, I’ve got my masters and epidurals.

And thanks Mom and Sanny, if you’re reading this.  You are the reason anything got accomplished.  

……

So that’s for my last gasp of verbosity this week.  Hope I haven’t bored anyone, I’m back to attempting to be all snarky-like next week.  I’ve been feeling isolated (duh) and I needed to have someone listen to all the crazy swimming around in my head.  And y’all are the best listeners in the world.  Thank you, thank you for all the comments and compliments and commiserating.  I am the luckiest bloggerist there is!!!

Napoleon Dynamite Soundtrack : Suitwalk It’s only 36 seconds, so get on up, and get your swagger on. It’s FRIDAY!!!

Napoleon Dynamite Soundtrack : Suitwalk

It’s only 36 seconds, so get on up, and get your swagger on.  It’s FRIDAY!!!

intimidated

I’ve run into a few people in this life… well, a lot of people actually, who just don’t like me.  I’m starting to just let it roll off my back. Maybe because I have a whole bunch of hotties back at home who love me.

I had an exchange recently between myself and someone who apparently thinks little of me, and I told Husband about it when I came home.  The next day he came home and told me had a hypothsis about the whole thing.  I almost didn’t hear the rest of what he was saying because I was like “Whoa - he was listening yesterday??  Sweet!”   But the gist of his idea was that she was intimidated by me.

“Huh?” I said.  ”That’s ridiculous.  Who would be intimidated by me?”

“Well let’s see,” he said.  ”You’re well-educated, you’re incredibly accomplished, you are super hott and you have a mind-blowingly attractive husband.   That can intimidate someone.”

“But that’s not what indimidates me,” I pressed.  ”I know intimidating people, I’m not one.  I’m nice.  And I’m a mess.  Intimidating people do not go out in public looking like I do.”

“Whatever.”  He’d made his point and didn’t feel the need to argue it further.  

Thing is, I really am a mess.  My house, my life, my hair.  How in the world could anyone find this pile of me intimidating?

I’ll go with it though.  It sounds way better than annoying!