But surely the next one wouldn't be as insane as the last one, right?

This morning, after dropping my son off at his first day of kindergarten, I unsuccessfully attempted to convince my husband that we need to have another baby.

He thinks I'm cracked to want another one.

I understand, I do.  But I'd also just dropped my oldest child off at real school, at his first day, for the very first time, and at the beginning of a whole new way of adjusting our lives.

Does that sentence even make sense?  I'm not entirely sure, probably because I didn't sleep much last night on account of the Kindergartner.  Well, not so much him as the fact of him going to school.  When there's a big change happening, I don't sleep, I eat a lot of carbohydrates, drink wine, and attempt to hold down all of the carbohydrates and wine because my stomach rolls and turns and tells me that the whole world is going to implode because my son is going to kindergarten.

Or something.

I could tell that Sebastian was nervous last night when he told me he didn't love me because I took away his cup of water he was using to stall going to bed.  That's not like him.  I mean, yeah, he loses his shit occasionally over stupid things because the world is so cruel to him and it's hard out here for a 5 year old, of course.  But this was different.

I told him that wasn't very nice and I came downstairs and cried, then made him homemade chocolate treats for his lunchbox because MY BABY IS GOING TO SCHOOL.

This morning, the first thing he did when he came downstairs was to tell me how sorry he was for saying that and that he didn't mean it.  And then he let me kiss him.

We walked him into school and sat with him while he ate his free breakfast, then walked him to the gym where all the students gathered first thing in the morning.

And then we left.

And then Adele and I went home and she peed on the couch because I was cleaning the kitchen and wasn't paying attention to her.

Maybe I've changed my mind on the third baby.

When Sebastian got off the school bus I had a whole 7 minutes of him telling me about his day over homemade muffins before he had had enough and wanted to play on the ipod.

I'll take it.

If you'll excuse me I have to go hippie up my lifestyle now

I probably shouldn't be taking the time to blog because my house looks like life exploded inside of it in the form of unmade beds and toys and random dishes and Duplos all over every room because a grumpy little girl threw them at me. 

Also I've scheduled myself to can a bunch of crushed tomatoes this afternoon, thanks to my parents and their abundance of romas that they are willing to share.  And I'm making yogurt as soon as the milk thaws.  And I want to try coconut milk yogurt on account of all the paleo that's happening in our lives right now.  Also I'm making Quark for Chris' mom, which for those of you who have no idea what it is, much like myself before my German mother-in-law, it's a sort of yogurt-cheese-thing that can be used to make cakes (Quark-Sahne Cake!) or savory dishes. 

First day of kindercamp.  Before he left me on the bus
and I went inside and forced myself not to throw up or
cry, because MY BABY!

And tonight is Sebastian's open house for kindergarten (!!!!!!!!).  He went to kinder-camp last week to get him used to his classroom and teacher and general school-related atmosphere.  He insisted on riding the bus, which I thought I was okay with until I put him on the bus and my stomach dropped and I felt like I didn't give him enough of a goodbye and my heart hurt because I wasn't going to be walking him into school and you better believe I won't be making that mistake the first day of actual school, though now that he's already ridden the bus he's questioning why I have to drive him. 

As his father told him, "IT'S FOR YOUR MOTHER, CHILD."

And then when it was time for him to leave school I sat on the porch to wait for the bus to drop him off.  And then I waited some more.  And even more.  And 45 minutes after he was let out of kindercamp that is all of FIVE WHOLE MINUTES from our house I started calling the school.  But unfortunately I was not unique and I'm assuming that all the other mothers of bus riders had the same hyperventilating worry and the phone was busy the entire 12 times I called.

Oh yes I did.

But he made it home fine, if an hour and ten minutes after camp ended. BUT WHO'S COUNTING?

To compensate for my stress level I took the kids out to McDonalds.  I ate a quarter pounder with bacon.  At least the bacon was paleo, I guess.

So tonight I will meet Sebastian's teacher and attempt not to cry when I see the room where he will be spending all of his time away from me.  I think he's a little nervous, too.  We've had some behavior issues, and then this morning he told me he had a bad dream where I drove away from him and the school bus left him and he had to find his own way home.

I told him (again) that he doesn't have to ride the bus, that I will drive him if he'd prefer, but he told me that IT WAS JUST A DREAM, MOM.  IT WASN'T REAL.

He's also been letting me kiss him without smacking me in the face, so that's been nice.  Although he tells me every time that he doesn't like kisses because they are gross.

So to sum up, I'm batshit crazy on account of all the Hippie Homesteading I'm doing to distract myself from the fact that I'm batshit crazy because my oldest baby is starting kindergarten in two days.

(Let's talk about Kombucha and Kefir next time!  Hippies Rule!)

I spent way too much time figuring out how to type an up arrow on the keyboard for authenticity

The other child has been taken over by the stomach virus from one of the really bad circles of hell, but I've never actually read Dante's Inferno so I can't tell you the exact one.  I tried to wikipedia it but it just got me depressed thinking about anger and gluttony and fraud so I decided it wasn't important enough to have an exact circle to describe my son's stomach virus.  Unless it's the gluttony one because he has eaten a whole lot of generic fruit loops lately, which I only realized afterward has some very strong food coloring in it (I know!  Where have I been?) so I ordered a bunch of the hippie, organic fruit loops which he'll probably refuse to eat anyway.

Where was I?

Stomach virus.  So he's home from school today.  And I need a pick-me-up.

I was looking for a picture the other day to illustrate a blog post (this one, actually) and I stumbled across a box of notes my friends had written to me.  Oh yes.

And this was, of course, before the days of texting and email and right in the height of special, origami-type folding that I never quite mastered but that most of my friends were proficient in.

So I'm adding this to the list of Jaime's embarrassing journal entries about boys she loved and also how much she wanted to get her period.  

I think this particular one was written in middle school.  I'm 90 percent sure of who it's from, but sometimes I get confused because I am old and this was 20 years ago (OH MY GAWD).

..................................................................................................................

Jaime,

So wuz ↑? Not much here.  Just thinking of those 2 guys and Ashley.  I still get the jitters when I think of her absence.  It's just so sad.  I hope she doesn't forget about us. (I have absolutely no idea who or what she's talking about here.)

~~~~~~~~♥~~~~~~~~♥~~~~~~~~♥~~~~~~~~♥~~~~~~~~ 

Did you talk to Rosco?  He's so cute!  Especially with his hat on backwards.  You may not think he's cute but I do!  FOR SURE!  Write Back or talk to me at lunch about ROSCO I don't mind if anyone reads this but if they make any remarks about Rosco, just slappem!  See ya at the football game!

A GREAT friend,

Juniper

P.S. You won't have fun at Chasity's cause I won't be there! (Joke)

Circa letter-writing time. Maybe. I
honestly don't know because
I CAN'T REMEMBER.
But my hair looked fabulous.

(Here are the rest of my journal entries if you need a good laugh at my expense.  Go ahead.  I don't mind.)

Doctor Who comes to call. At the gym.

So I've started watching Doctor Who.

I guess that puts me in the dorky-but-totally-cool 'in' crowd, right?

I usually spend my cardio time at the gym listening to an audiobook I download from the library, but as I wait ever so long for the next Harry Potter book to become available I've been making do with books that don't even come close to sparking the kind of interest that Mr. Potter and all the Wizards do.

I know, I'm a little late to the whole Harry Potter Craze, but at least I'm here now.  Don't judge me.  I spent most of that time when I could have been enjoying learning about Quiddich and Muggles turning down my nose at THOSE BOOKS and considering them to be beneath my "I only read literature' persona that I'd convinced myself was true.

I was an absolute joy, of course.

It's hard work being this alternative. 
Note the battered guitar case, the long
denim shirt, the little makeup ...

Actually, it's not that I didn't read other books that weren't assigned by my English professors - I did.  It's just that for many of my younger years I thought that the only right way to be was outside of the status quo.  I wasn't going to read those intensely popular books precisely because they were popular.  The same thing applied to other aspects of my life - I didn't like popular music.  Or I didn't want anyone to know that I liked some popular music.  Whenever I was driving and heard the song "Livin' La Vida Loca" (oh - you know you can still sing all the words) I would listen to it and sing along, but also be terrified that I would crash and the people who came to help me would hear that song playing on the radio and judge me and find me incredibly unhip.  It was always a bit of a relief when the song was over and I could switch the station back to something I considered subversive and cool.  Like classic rock.

My teenage years were mentally exhausting.

I couldn't find the senior portrait I wanted, which was black
and white and included a black turtleneck and an old
camera, so I'm giving you this self-portrait instead. Laugh
amongst yourselves.

So I never read the Potter books, until now.  And I love them.  I'm completely hooked.  I'll listen to them with one headphone in my ear while I clean and take care of my children - half listening to whatever they are mumbling on about.  (But not really - my kids talk nonstop.  I have to tune some of it out.)

I'll listen to them when I'm trying to force Adele to take a nap by rocking her to sleep because we all know that if she doesn't take a nap then the afternoon will go to hell in the form of yelling and spitting of food and kicking.  Thus the books keep me distracted and calm.  We all win.


And most enjoyable of all - I listen to the books at the gym.  But because of a weird glitch I've been waiting an extra long time for The Order of the Phoenix.

And it's horrible, the waiting.  It's filled with depressing books that I have to stop a third of the way in because I'm trying to use them to get me energized to exercise, and listening to a story about a woman who has lost all of her family and is about to be swindled by some stranger is not my idea of energizing.  And then there's the cliche-filled book about wives getting even with their husbands for cheating - which I thought would be light and funny but in the end became annoying and just plain boring.

And so I've given up the books for now - until the next Harry Potter one, of course.

I'm much less annoyed and don't roll my eyes anymore while I'm working out, which can be a little disconcerting to see someone do multiple times in the gym, I'm assuming.  They probably think I'm having a seizure, much like the time another mother told the daycare workers that they thought Adele was having a seizure because she crossed her eyes.  (Did I tell you that story?  If I didn't then let me assure you that there was no seizure.  She just crossed her eyes.  The end.)

I don't know why I didn't think of watching Netflix on my phone before now.  It seems like the perfect solution.  I've often thought that if there was just something interesting on television at the gym my workout would be much easier.  Because there's only so much Fox News that I can handle watching - evening if I'm not listening to it.  I can just tell by their facial expressions that they are being extremely biased assholes.  (Yes, I totally see the irony in me being a biased asshole by putting down all of Fox News.  But COME ON.  They allowed Glen Beck to happen.)

So back to Doctor Who.  Remember when I brought it up many, many words ago?  I've been hearing a lot about it in the last couple of years.  So I thought, why not?  And I like it.  I don't love it yet, but I'm only three shows in so I have faith that our relationship will blossom and I will finally be a part of the group.  It's like, now everything is ironic and what's dorky is dorky in the best way possible.

The Doctor

We can all embrace ourselves and our love of science fiction without everyone thinking we live in our parents' basement and eat pizza and stare at a computer screen playing World of Warcraft into all hours of the night.  Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Guys.  I'm finally cool for not being cool.

It's what I've waited my whole life for.

Homemade Friday: Vanilla. Really.

If you've been following along, it will surprise exactly none of you that I recently made my own vanilla extract.

It's just, for some reason I am amazed and delighted that I have the ability to make things I've only ever bought before with my own two hands and some easily-found ingredients.  And really, it shouldn't come as a surprise to me.  I grew up in a family that made most of what they ate.  There was no canned spaghetti, or even canned spaghetti sauce.

We didn't buy tortillas, and we never bought a can of green beans.  We went to the basement and brought up a jar that we (they) had grown ourselves and broken and canned.  That was just the way it was.

And I think that's part of why I enjoy this so much.  It's getting back to the way I was brought up.  I don't have the light or the space to garden the way my parents did, and I'm lucky if I don't have to buy tomatoes during the summer, which is a shame. 

But this need to bake things that otherwise would have been bought, or just not eaten, stems from that.  I may not be able to can my own salsa at the moment, but I can damn sure bake some homemade vanilla wafers using homemade pure vanilla.

For making vanilla extract I used a mixture of recipes from The Homemade Pantry and Make the Bread, Buy the Butter.  Both of those books are well-loved and well-used by me, especially The Homemade Pantry.  It seems a little more down-to-earth than the other one, and a little easier to follow.

Making the vanilla is really so easy that I kind of feel like a fool for not doing it sooner.  I hate to pay for pure vanilla because usually it's not in the budget, and I always feel guilty for buying the imitation one that's only a dollar.

For this I used some leftover vodka.  I say 'leftover' because my friend left a whole jug of it when we had a girls' get-together at my house.  Chris drank most of it over time, but there was still some left for me.  So I dumped some in a jar, sliced open a few vanilla beans that I bought online (here) and put them in, too.  And then I shook it up.

And then I waited.  And after a week I opened it up and smelled it and then shook it up some more.

At one point I added more vodka and beans to enhance the flavor.

And then repeated.

I did this for about a month before it stopped smelling so strongly of vodka and started smelling like vanilla.

Glorious, heavenly vanilla.

Other examples of my need to make things from scratch:
Chocolate Graham Crackers
Granola Bars
Vanilla Wafers
Graham Crackers
Soft Pretzels
Tortillas
Bread
Baby Food

I've also made oreos and pop tarts, but forgot to tell you about them.  And tortilla chips.  And hummus.  And spaghetti sauce.  And pasta. And other stuff I can't remember right now.

Reasons I am insane*

*Alternate title: Things I have made in the past two days and things I still have to make sometime before Christmas is over:

In the past two days I have made the following:

1. Cracker Candy (Also known as 'Christmas Crack' at our house.)

2. Homemade salted caramels

3. Pecan pie - with homemade crust

4. Chocolate Chocolate Chip Bacon Cookies

5. Tangy Spiced Brisket from smitten kitchen


Tomorrow I have to make the following:

6. Apple Pie - with homemade crust

7. Homemade Dinner Rolls

8. Homemade chicken tenders

9. Homemade mac & cheese

10. Spinach Artichoke dip

11. Broccoli

I thought I'd possibly make homemade panettone, but I think that's going to have to wait a few days.

And yes, this is a list I created for myself.

Lots of wine will be consumed over the next few days.

It's surprising how many times he's smelled patchouli and patchouli-related scents

My ass hurts.  Or maybe it’s my back upper thigh.  My hamstring?  Except it’s not muscle related, unless by muscle related that means waves of achy pain that reverberate all down my leg from my lower butt cheek to the back of my knee and that doesn’t go away even after weeks and weeks, and that is so much worse at night.

I googled achy thigh pain and got sciatica. 

SCIATICA.

I think this means I’m officially old, right?  I mean, especially if you add it to the wrist pain in the form of a ganglion cyst and the foot pain from that time I stepped funny and twisted the top of my foot, which I didn’t’ even think was possible and which still hurts even though it was more than a month ago, or maybe two months ago, I can’t remember, which is another sign of being old.  Although maybe my foot would feel better if I would stop dropping 12 packs of Pepsi Max on it, right on the part that hurts.  I know I’m not supposed to be drinking sodas at all because they are BAD FOR ME, and most definitely shouldn’t be drinking the ones that have fake sugar in them because I’m going to get cancer and go into shock or something, but really, my sciatica will probably kill me before that anyway, or else my poor memory which causes me to leave the crockpot on even hours after I’m done with it which will create Final Destination-esque havoc.

Or something.

SCIATICA. 

(I should probably say that I haven’t actually gone to the doctor for this or anything.  I prefer to live in google-created drama rather than have the professionals tell me I need to exercise more.  I’m trying.  It’s just that it is so very hard to get out of the house when your children hang all over you and insist on being fed and cared for.   Also maybe I should eat less chocolate.)

(Speaking of food!)  Our Thanksgiving was really good – the kids were well-behaved-ish, and Sebastian was introduced to Ninjago and Star Wars and I kind of wish that had never happened because all of our conversations have revolved around them since. 

But it was inevitable, anyway because the kid loves fighting shows.  I am not raising a hippie, which is even more evident whenever he holds his nose up and makes gagging noises every time he smells patchouli. 

So, to sum up:  I am old and also in pain all of the time and yet my husband still refuses to stop smacking me on the butt, and the children are now following his lead and so my behind is smacked an average of 5468 times a day.

Also:  Good food, Star Wars, Ninjago, no hippies.

Random Tuesday: Really, really random

1. I missed a family reunion this past weekend in order to keep my children in a bubble.

2. Actually I wanted to keep other people from getting whatever funk my kids had.  The bubble was just an added bonus.

3. I was kind of sad to miss it as there’s always good food and family that I don’t see often enough.  Also homemade 'wine.'

4. I did not miss the intense heat, though.

5. The kids are better, but their temperaments haven’t improved with their health.

6. There’s been mucho whining, is what I’m saying.

7. The youngest randomly smacks her brother and me in the face and the oldest rolls around on the floor whining about whatever is irritating him at the moment.

8. Do you know what it’s like to be smacked in the face by a toddler all day?

9. Do you know how hard it is to remain a nice person throughout all of that?

10. I have not succeeded as much as I’d like to.

11. We went to Target to give us all a change of scenery today. 

12. I came home with random crap I put in the cart to keep the kids from screaming or talking really loudly about poop.

13. I’m not sure that leaving the house was a good idea, but it ended with me getting a giant iced mocha so at least there’s that.

14. It’s not working as well as I’d like it to.  I was hoping to actually have energy this afternoon.

15. We took the kids to the pool last night and they swam with Chris while I worked out at the gym that’s connected to it.

16. Sebastian is learning how to swim with a snorkel and he can’t get enough of it.

17. He’s a water bug, just like his dad.

18. I, on the other hand, can convince myself a shark is swimming after me in a clear public pool.

19. There are almost never any sharks in public pools so I don’t really have to worry about it.  But that doesn’t stop my mind from going there.

20. I am taking the kids swimming without Chris this afternoon.  I’m meeting a friend who has a bunch of kids herself.

22. I’m a bit terrified as the two times I’ve taken them swimming with Christopher Sebastian has had epic meltdowns whenever it’s time to leave.

23. Also Adele tries to jump in the big pools.

24. She’s a water bug, too.  She snuck out yesterday and got in our kiddie pool with her clothes on.   

25. I’m going to need more coffee.  

I blame children-induced temporary insanity

I’m not entirely sure what possessed me.

I mean, I’ve wanted a new bedspread for awhile since the old one had holes and stains and a good amount of cat hair on it that, no matter what I did, would not go away.  (You all want to come hang out in my bedroom now, don’t you?)

I had a trip planned to Ikea for this weekend with a friend of mine, but unfortunately those plans fell through.  I was beyond depressed and, as I told my friend, not only was I missing out on spending the day with someone I have mucho fun with and don’t get to see very often, but I also had a long list of things I wanted to buy.

First on that list, a bedspread.

(Second on the list was a new bedroom suite, but I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t fit in the car, no matter how flat it’s packed.)

So as I wasn’t able to make the trek to the land of Swedish meatballs and lingonberry jam, I decided that a trip to Target would be an okay substitute.

My biggest mistake was taking the children with me.  For the most part they behaved, but I didn’t go straight to the bedspreads and leave, like I should have.  No, first I meandered through the clothes and the underwear department because Sebastian saw a bra and wanted to know if it was a bathing suit.  He also asked if it was just for girls and instead of getting into a whole transgendered/cross dresser conversation, I said yep!  They’re for mamas!  And then we went to the shoes, and then toddler shoes, because Adele needs some summer sandals and really, how hard is it to make a damn pair of little girl shoes that aren’t covered in stripper glitter?  Or that have a heel?  A HEEL FOR AN ALMOST-2 YEAR OLD WHO FALLS DOWN A LOT.  Brilliant.

(We found a white pair at Wal-mart.  No glitter.  No heel.  No daddy issues.)

So by the time we made it to the bedspreads the kids had almost met their limit on shopping.  Sebastian wanted to look at toys, and Adele, every 35 seconds, was saying “Down!  Down!  Down!”  And so I was preoccupied.

I looked at the cream bedspread first, then dismissed it because it was too light and I have two small children and I am not an idiot.  And then I couldn’t decide between the brown or grey.  Or there was a light blue one that might match the rug, but maybe not.  Or the taupe one was nice.  But the brown one is pretty dark.  I like the grey, but I’m not sure if Chris will like it.  And on and on and on and on it all went in my head while both kids started fussing and Adele attempted to climb out of the cart while Sebastian tried to climb in it. 

My brain shut down, is what I’m saying.

This is the one I bought:

http://www.target.com/p/Fieldcrest-Luxury-Silk-Allure-Quilt-Set-Cream/-/A-13294413

Good Lord in heaven what possessed me?

And I didn’t even realize my mistake at first.  No, I took it home and put it right on the bed and sat back and thought about how pretty it looked and how soft it was to the touch, and how much I wanted to lay down on it rightthissecond.

Then the kids got up from their naps.

I realized I’d have to take it back to the store when my children tried to climb on the bed and I slow-motion ran to them and pushed them on the floor, not heeding their cries of pain.*

I bought the grey one.  Hopefully no children will be harmed today.  I also bought myself a bracelet to make up for my troubles.

*Not really.

Talking about my hair again. What of it?

I didn’t realize how much grey* hair I had until the latest batch of cheap, washout, at-home hair dye started to, well, wash out. 

Either I haven’t been paying attention or it’s been a stressful few months.  Or maybe my age is finally catching up with me.  I am an elderly 30 year old, you know.

Way back in my mid twenties I used to leave the grey hair be.  I thought it looked neat to just have one or two white hairs in my otherwise brownish locks.  Recently, however, I’ve been taking a different, more painful approach. 

I pull them out.

But at this point it’s getting a little ridiculous.  I find at least two new ones every day.  So I think it might be time to dye again.  I am scared to go permanent, though, because the color I use is dark.  Actually, it’s black, but mine doesn’t usually look black, more of a super-deep brown.  But don’t we all remember that trend in high school where people would dye their hair black, then it would grow out and they’d have about 4 inches of light brown roots and black ends?  I do not want that.  And I think I’ve established already that I am lazy when it comes to taking care of my hair, so I would be the one with the embarrassing roots and really, I’m not sure I need another issue to worry about.

But at some point most women dye their hair regularly, right?  The greys start taking over before we’re ready, and before we want to look like a grandmother.  How do you know when to take that step?

And before you suggest it, just know that I am way too cheap to have it professionally done.  I have a hard time paying the $20-30 just to get it cut, so there’s no way I’m going to pay to have it dyed. 

And I’ve got a box of my usual, washout hair dye, which actually will last for a couple of months, instead of the 28 washes it says on the box.  Or maybe I just don’t wash my hair often enough, which is probably more likely.  But I haven’t done it yet because I am waiting until I get a haircut first.

Do you remember how I feel about going to get my haircut?  It’s extremely awkward for me, as I am a socially awkward person in general.  But I want to have it cut before I dye it because inevitably I will mess up the hair dye, leaving whole patches undyed.  More than likely it will only be noticeable to someone who is close to my head, thus I don’t want to have the stylist roll her eyes at my botched dye job behind my back.

I realize that I am crazy.

It’s not something I can help.

Guess who didn't get much sleep last night?
Also, if you make the photo black & white you can't see all the grey hair.

*spelled with an ‘e’ because it’s prettier

Clearly my priorities are skewed

Last night I put Adele to bed and put a show on for Sebastian then took a shower because Chris was out at a work dinner with a bunch of people, including a woman who brews beer, which is almost like cheating, I’m convinced.  But it was probably the only time I was going to get a shower since I was alone with small children and didn’t want to take one after Sebastian was in bed since all I wanted to do then was crash and watch whatever trash TV was on, preferably Teen Mom, though I can never stay up late enough to watch it, but it makes me feel better about myself as a mom so I try to catch it when I can. 

I don’t generally like taking a shower when I’m the only adult in the house because even though Sebastian is pretty tame, there’s always the chance he’ll decide that he is perfectly capable of climbing on top of the stove to reach the pretzels in the cabinet above, and while he’s at it he’ll turn on the gas and inadvertently rub two sticks together creating a spark that will blow the whole house up.  So I usually try to avoid random house explosions when possible.

But as I said, it was really my only option other than possibly showering through Teen Mom, which is no option at all.  While I was in the shower I heard a loud noise, which more than likely was Sebastian bouncing around because he was watching ‘Fireman Sam’ and he really gets into all the RESCUES and SAVING THE DAYS, but it sounded like someone closing a door or walking around or stomping so of course my mind went there.  Someone was in the house and going to kidnap my son and I couldn’t do anything since I didn’t want to get out of the shower and drip water all over the floor because I’d have to be the one to clean it up and I didn’t need another mess to take care of that clearly was not my fault in the first place. 

But then immediately I told myself I was crazy and put the whole drama out of my mind, sort of.  I proceeded to wash my hair, only when I squeezed the shampoo bottle it made that noise that it does when you’re almost out and it’s telling you to that you only have a little bit left before you allow yourself to use the new shampoo you already bought to replace that old one that you’re tired of now, since you absolutely have to use the old one up before using the new one so you just use gobs and gobs and gobs of the old one every time you shampoo to make it go faster.   (Just me?) 

And when that happened all I could think was ‘I hope whoever is in the house doesn’t think I farted in the shower.’

For the record, I didn't get kissed at Sasha's party

To stop myself from complaining (again) about how crazy busy and ridiculous my life is and how whenever I try to get out of the house one of the children poops or takes their shoes off or runs away from me when I’m trying to put their jacket on or refuses to let me brush their teeth or their hair or spills my coffee and causes me to almost cry,  I thought it was time for me to post another of ‘Jaime’s embarrassing journal entries about boys she loved and also how much she wanted to get her period.’

I’ve really got to shorten that title.

It’s either this or I also complain about how my husband’s new job causes him to work late so I don’t get to go to the gym and GET OUT OF THE DAMN HOUSE BY MYSELF , and also allows him to eat in fancypants restaurants WITHOUT ME and also without having to pick up food off the floor that someone has thrown down there to show that they are finished and want to be out of their high chair rightthisverysecond.

Here’s the first.  And second.

………………………………………………………………………

5-18-93 (almost 12 years old)

Life is so weird.  I can’t explain the feelings inside me.  I feel like I love Napoleon & Jag.  I’m really not sure.  I also think I like Beacon.

Napoleon is cute & nice.  He’s really sweet.  He also doesn’t like me.  It’s the same with Jag.  Only I don’t really know if he likes me or not.

Beacon, I can’t really tell.  He’s cute, & he looks good without his shirt.  Beacon can be very mean & snotty sometimes, but I think thats what makes me like him.  (WISE BEYOND MY YEARS.)  He might like me but I don’t know.

You wouldn’t believe the stories I come up with (They’re all in my head though).  They are really perverted.  Well some of them.  Most of them just have kissing though.  I’ve never been kissed.  I might get my turn soon though.  Sasha’s having a party & we might play spin the bottle.  I doubt if anyone will want to kiss me though.

Everything I write about in this journal is depressing.  Nachelle is really starting to get on my nerves.  She keeps flirting with every guy & she doesn’t even talk to me. 

Here's what I did when I wasn't here

Oh, hello there.  Sorry for the absence on Friday.  And Thursday.  And I guess last Tuesday, while we’re on the subject.  I have no real reason for the absence, other than utter and complete apathy and also naps.

It’s always the naps.

I’ve decided to give up on making Sebastian stay in his bedroom for naptime every day.  In reality it’s more like quiet time anyway, in that most of his time is spent playing with toys.  But if I call it quiet time he’s coming out of his room every seven minutes asking if he can come downstairs.  I started feeling guilty, like I was hanging on to something that was never going to work.  So while his sister was sleeping he was spending his time watching a movie or a long show and then we’d play together.  But as I was never actually alone at any point during the day, that didn’t leave much time for rambling. 

And I know what you’re thinking.  I have lots of time while he’s watching TV.  But you don’t know my special, clingy son.  Nope.  If he’s left alone too long usually there’s a punishment doled out for me once I am back in his eyesight in the form of an epic tantrum.  He just needs to remind me of his existence in the form of yelling and throwing things and also screaming for more TV.

So.  Not worth it.

But today, however, he’s decided that he wanted to take a nap.  And so he is.  Of course, by nap I mean opening and closing his door and doing a headstand in his bed and also, maybe, reading a book.

Whatever.  He’s up there and I’m alone. 

Thank you sweet baby Jesus.

In other news my husband turned 30 yesterday and I’m relieved.  I’ve had to endure six months of him telling me that I was a cougar for being in my 30s while he was still in his 20s.  Six months is not that much older, CHRISTOPHER. 

I couldn’t force him to have a party because it was too cold or he was too old or something so we just spent Saturday in Louisville together.  Well, this was after making repeated attempts to leave the house but always having something come up and when we finally did leave the house and were 15 minutes away from home we realized that we’d left the coffee pot on so we had to turn back around and by that time we were starving and when he’s hungry he kind of shuts down but the banana we grabbed when we turned the coffee pot off helped.  Kind of.

We ate at Harvest, which is local and hippie and had the best potato salad I’ve ever eaten, but that made me feel like there was something wrong with me for wanting ketchup on my unique, fancy burger because they don’t give it to you automatically.  But really, it needed something to cut through the heaviness of the meat and chevre.  And the ketchup came in a little bowl and was probably made from humanely raised organic tomatoes that were sung ‘You are my sunshine’ every morning as dawn broke.

I’m just guessing.

That evening, at about 8 we went to Red Lobster in Elizabethtown because we had a gift card.  Apparently everyone thought it was a good idea because it was super crowded but no matter, I got drunk off two margaritas and then glared passive-aggressively at our waitress who, even though we were there long enough for most of the tables to clear out still couldn’t manage to come back and refill our water glasses or get our check for us or, you know, do her job. 

We were there two hours which is about an hour and twenty minutes longer than anyone needs to be. 

Hey!  Since there’s really no point to this blog, let me show you this picture:

And also these, which are a photo-memory box of how ridiculous my morning has been and also the pictures I've been sending Chris all day to share with him how lucky he is to not be around these children at the moment:

Yes, she did grab as many of these as she could
and shove them in her mouth before I could clean them up. 
It made breakfast a little easier this morning.

I spent an hour cleaning up Sebastian's
room yesterday. Today he did this.

I'm pretty sure this one was just for attention.

 

Even though the littlest one is in all the pictures she’s only responsible for the top mess.  Well, her and her father who forgot to close up the cereal and move it out of her reach when he was done with it.

Thanks, Chris.