Motherhood and More: Age truly is only a number, not a promise of maturity*

I turned 35 this month.

I’m still waiting to feel different, older, mature, more “grown up.”

I’ve never really worried about aging. I don’t care all that much about looking old, I don’t worry about wrinkles or losing my youth. At this point in my life, one year is much like the next – albeit with children who have ever-evolving parental needs.

When I was younger, I thought 35 was the epitome of grown up. By 35, I should know what I’m doing, have a life plan and fully understand retirement savings accounts.

But for me, now, I’m kind of still waiting to feel like an adult. I’ve got bills, I have responsibilities, I have small people requiring my care and attention. But what does it mean to be an adult? Sometimes I feel aged like cheddar and wine. Sometimes I feel 16.

I was speaking with a friend on aging a few weeks ago and where we hoped to be by this age. I came to the conclusion that it’s all a giant, delusional myth.

No one has their life together. Everyone is taking it as it comes, never really knowing if their choices and decisions are exactly the right ones. None of us are adulting, truly “adulting,” because we don’t really know what it means.

And I’ll wager that our parents felt the same way when they were our age. We thought they knew everything about everything because they were able to speak with confidence when they told us to stop acting like fools. They were authority figures. But really, they were figuring it out as they went, too.

All that is to say that I don’t really feel old or what I thought old would feel like.

At this age, I should have wisdom and maturity and growth. And I do have days like that. I mean, I have a mortgage and someone has to be available to make dinner for all the wild children who live in my house. Two. It’s only two, but if we’re going by number of dirty socks strewn throughout the house it’s more like 14.

But much of the time I have the mind of a 12 year old, giggling at inappropriate jokes, writing melodramatic poetry or secretly lusting after Lisa Frank unicorn folders. I think that’s just how it is, for most of us.

At a certain age, we want to appear like we know what we’re doing. We’re all faking it, though. We do what we can to seem responsible and grown up but still really want to have ice cream for dinner most days.

*This column originally published in The News-Enterprise on July 27, 2016.

Nobody steal my True Detective romantic comedy idea

So I had this dream last night.

I know, I know. Dreams are ultimate blog no-nos (though really, why? Brains are all kinds of messed up and it's neat to see what they come up with when we're not looking.)

Dream blog posts after a loooooooooong blogging absence are especially bad I'm told.*

But I can't help it. I have to share. I've been dosing myself with expired codeine cough syrup on account of all the coughing I do once I try to sleep. And by 'dosing' I mean following the directions specifically because I am terrified of imaginary authority figures who already are disappointed at me for using expired cough syrup.

I don't think the cough syrup is responsible for my dream, but it might be, is what I'm saying.

The dream was a cross between The Mindy Project and True Detective, which as an obvious path to travel if you're my subconscious on cough syrup.

I wasn't actually involved in the story, just watching like it was a television show, which means maybe I watch too much tv? (I don't. I really don't. I wish I had more time because there are entirely too many shows I want to watch. Outlander, Orphan Black I'm looking at you.)

So Mindy was dating Colin Farrell - who was a tough, sort-of-dirty cop but really wanted to be a good guy (maybe like the character he played in True Detective - the season with all the characters whose names I couldn't remember.)

The porn 'stache of my dreams, apparently.

Colin killed a really bad guy who had zero chance of being arrested (kinda like Dexter, but in a less creepy, serial killer way.) After killing said bad guy, he took a ring from him, then went to Mindy and asked her to marry him using the ring. She said yes and was super thrilled because FINALLY HAPPILY EVER AFTER.

The next morning cops showed up, asking about the dead guy. Colin was all set to get away with killing him, but Mindy started talking about how awesome Colin was, and how he'd just proposed. She showed them the ring. They arrested Colin. And it was very noir-like and dramatic, but also still silly because ROMANTIC COMEDY. Mindy is just so unlucky in love! Haha! Something is always in the way of her finding true love! Total slapstick, amirite?

So maybe the cough syrup worked? I mean, I still coughed but was distracted by the dream. So maybe it's a metaphysical remedy?

In other news, here's a picture of me wearing red lipstick.

I took some photos of myself (the cool people call those 'selfies') because I was procrastinating on my to-do list. Who wants to write web site copy when you can take a fake-smiling photo of yourself sans all makeup but bright red lipstick? (Me. I do. It's a fantastic job that I want to keep.) Plus it was new lipstick and I couldn't tell if I liked it or not.

I do like it. The end.

(I apologize for this post. I have no excuse.)

*Google told me one time.

Motherhood & More: With the holidays upon us, I am thankful for coffee*

Every year I wonder how it is that the holidays have come so quickly. I’m not nearly ready for any of it and it’s become a tradition to rush around crazily at the last minute. I don’t think this is so much because I put things off, but rather I pile too much stuff on in hopes of being everything to everyone.

So, in the spirit of giving myself a break, I’m copping out on this column. I’m going easy on myself. So this will not be literary genius of a piece, as they normally are, of course. This will be a last-minute, thrown-together list written in between work and laundry.

You are so welcome.

Without further ado, I give you my Thanksgiving List Of Things I Am Thankful For:

• I’m thankful my daughter slept all night in her own bed without crawling into mine, snoring and stealing all the covers.

• I’m thankful for interesting work I can do from my dining room table.

• I’m thankful my son enjoys reading as much as I do, even if his favorites employ toilet humor instead of complex plot development. “Captain Underpants,” I’m looking at you.

• I’m thankful we have a house that is a cross between 1920s craftsman, 1980s renovation and 2010s my-children-have-too-much-junk-and-refuse-to-clean-up-after-themselves.

• I’m thankful for coffee.

• I’m thankful I have a husband who sometimes makes me lunch when I’m busy writing a column that is past due.

• I’m thankful for laughter and corny jokes and friends and family who indulge me in both.

• I’m thankful for people who buy and appreciate the jewelry and hand knits I so love to make.

• I’m thankful for parents who raised me to know how to do things for myself, like making a pie, sewing a dress or growing a garden.

• I’m thankful my backyard is shady so I have an excuse not to plant a huge garden that requires a lot of work.

• I’m thankful for warmth and good food.

• I’m thankful both of my children are thoughtful and kind.

• I’m thankful for health.

• I’m thankful for coffee.

• I’m thankful for the village in our real village — we have a good set of friends/neighbors who always are willing to help each other when needed.

• I’m thankful for a husband who doesn’t complain too much when I leave the living room strewn with yarn and project materials.

• I’m thankful for feather blankets on cold mornings.

• I’m thankful for good wine and good bourbon.

• I’m thankful for knit sweaters and socks.

• I’m thankful for hair dye to hide all of my gray hair.

• I’m thankful for friends who remain friends, even when we hardly ever see each other.

• I’m thankful for Minecraft entertaining my children sometimes so I don’t have to.

• I’m thankful my husband fills up the car’s gas tank so I don’t have to worry.

• I’m thankful for love and acceptance.

• I’m thankful for coffee.

*This column originally published in The News-Enterprise on Nov. 25, 2015.

I wrote this drunk because REASONS

Hey - remember when I was all "I'm going to update my blog regularly now and write fun stuff again and all that?" Well, maybe not "All That" but all that as in all of that stuff that I just said before in that last sentence.

This post is already getting away from me.

Anyway, my point is that I'm totally doing All That stuff I just said, all of that writing and updating LIKE A BOSS, if 'LIKE A BOSS' you actually mean 'LIKE A PERSON WHO LIES A BIT' and 'LIKE SOMEONE WHO ISN'T A VERY GOOD BOSS.'

I had one of those bosses one time. She was horrible and made me cry many times so I am very sorry if I made anyone cry by my lack of good boss-ness.

But if I had been updating I could have told you about my daughter's stomach-virus-turned-strep that lasted over the span of a week and a half and included a night of missed sleep on my part because someone had to be awake and ready to catch all the barf in the bowl because whenever I wasn't awake she barfed on herself and then I had to change all the sheets and her pajamas instead of just washing out the barf bowl.

Guys. Motherhood is so glamorous I don't even know what to do.

I'd like to take off my heels sometimes, is what I'm saying.

But she never quite recovered from that, and then got strep at the beginning of fall break (Monday).

Luckily we still were able to go camping (see all the photos below) and had an absolute blast, the best time I think we've had as a family so far, which is saying something because we're some awesome people who know how to have fun.

There was hiking and fishing and swimming from a girl who had a fever just the day before. (We like to build up immunities in natural ways.) And there were scary stories and s'mores with friends and more swimming in cold water and that one hilly hike with my daughter who still kind of felt like shit, but was entirely too much of a Mama's Girl and too stubborn to let her father carry her, all that much and so whined for 75 percent of the hike because I wouldn't pick her up.

But still kept hiking.

Because she is the epitome of 'LIKE A BOSS' in the actual sense of the phrase.

And I also could have told you about my son saying "What a pussy!" when we were all trying to sleep. I don't know exactly what he was referring to, but he heard it on some stupid minecraft youtube video and so NO YOUTUBE ANYMORE, SON. Thanks, minecraft. You're an asshole.

Where was I?

Camping?

Oh - if I was updating, I might have been able to mention that I'm starting to stress about the kids' Halloween costumes, because I'm running out of time. Sebastian wants to be The Headless Horseman, which is actually easy - we already have the cape from last year when he was Harry Potter. We just need to cut the bottom out of a plastic pumpkin and shove it on his head.  I've been telling him that he can just let his sister sit on his shoulder because she wants to be pumpkin. But not just an orange pumpkin. A many-colored pumpkin. I think, last I heard, the colors were blue and red and maybe yellow?

I'm taking them to the fabric store tomorrow so hopefully we can figure something out.

Because we are running out of time.

I also could have mentioned the fact that I just finished the 21 Day Fix, and that I loved it so much I became a coach, so if anyone is interested in starting, hit me up because it's really an awesome program and I feel stronger and to me, that is the point of all of the working out stuff. (I'm a wordsmith, I tell you what.)

I want to be stronger. I want to be leaner. And I want people to live in fear of my biceps. (Not really.) And I think this program can do that.  And I'm not just saying that because I'm a coach now. I really believe in it. So I'm serious - if you have any questions, just ask. I'm starting a new session on Monday, and I honestly can't wait. I feel much, much better on it, and that's not just all of the s'mores talking.

So, if I was a regular blogger, and not a lying liar, I could have told you all of this stuff, over the course of days instead of in one long post that I'm not entirely sure everyone has read to the end of.

I'm honestly not sure that is even an actual sentence but at this point it doesn't even matter because most of this is just a bunch of words that don't actually make a cohesive post.

Please to be enjoying some camping photos* and I promise** to update regularly from now on.

*I mean, this is a ridiculous amount of photos, but it was SO MUCH FUN!

**Dude. We all know I'm lying, and really - is anyone actually looking forward to this nonsense anyway?

But I am looking forward to having daylight past 5 p.m.

I'm attempting to write a post about my weekend but really all I can muster at this point is "Duuuuuuude!  TIME CHANGE SUUUUUUUUUCCCCKKKSSS!"

Eloquent, no?

But really.  I'm running at about 13 percent today because of time change but also because I stayed up too late watching House of Cards and cross stitching.

It was a full on rager, you guys.

Would you think I was more cool if I told you I also drank a bit of Basil Hayden's while I cross stitched vegetables with faces?

I learned that I liked Basil Hayden's when Chris' boss gave me a shot of it on Saturday at a homemade bike show in Louisville.

As you do.

We were at the show because Chris designs/works with this really cool carbon drive bicycle belt that replaces chains and it was neat to see the belt on all sorts of bikes from all over the place - even a Louisville Slugger bike that will be on display at the museum.

However, I told Chris that we didn't necessarily fit in with much of the people at the bike show because neither one of us had epic facial hair or man buns.

Plus there were no cruiser bikes which is my preferred bicycle because I am an old lady. (See cross stitching reference above.)

After the show we ate at an Irish pub and I had fish and chips and drank two very good beers and we went home and watched a bunch of House of Cards while I cross stitched smiling vegetables.

And on Sunday we picked up the kids who were only minorly irritated with everything.  I felt a sinus infection coming on, what with the swollen left side of my face, but it seems to be better today.  However I still feel a bit like death because I stayed up too late and had to wake up when it was still dark outside because DAMN YOU TIME CHANGE.

I think I'm going to see how much coffee I can drink before I start floating on the ceiling.

Totally unrelated to anything I've said in this post so far but it makes me smile:

I mean, I understand. Tortilla chips are delicious.

I convinced my husband to go out for Mexican food last night which was a miracle from Sweet Baby Jesus as he (my husband) is incredibly strong and full of will power and we do not eat out because we cook at home because the food there is better and better for you and cheaper and we are supposed to be eating all the 'right' foods because that will make us invincible.

So I got a giant chimichanga and a big bowl of queso and have zero regrets.

Except maybe for the amount of tortilla chips I allowed my daughter to consume but win some, lose some, right?

So we went out to eat because neither one of us felt like cooking and I was exhausted from all the no sleep I'd gotten the night before and really I just wore him down.

I've found that if I ask enough times eventually one of those times he will say Sure!  Let's go out to eat!  Complete with exclamation marks because that is totally how he talks.  (Not really.)

And I can't even get mad at him not cooking because he will cook when I don't want to which leaves me no excuses to go out to eat.

But sometimes you just want a taco from a Mexican restaurant, you know?

Of course, since we did go out to eat that meant that I accidentally forgot about the meat I was defrosting in the microwave to cook and it set out all night so I had to throw it away this morning when I remembered.

But I'm still calling it a win because I didn't have to wash dinner dishes and because Sebastian only said the word 'fart' loudly in a busy restaurant three times.

And now I have to get back to work because I am the new Web Content Editor for our office, which means that I get to change up the web page when someone tells me to.  It doesn't come with a raise or even really the actual title but I still think it's neat.

Do these $3 reading glasses make me look web-content-editory?

Also if you look closely you can see my new star shirt so let's consider this a how to wear diy post.

You're welcome.

Coffee- and random capslock-infused vignettes

Sometimes I get locked in my closet/office because of a class or Very Important Test happening in the computer lab that is my lobby and I have a love-hate relationship with the isolation.

I kind of love being locked in.  No one will bother me - not that that is a very frequent occurrence anyway, but still.  I can hide and be alone and talk to no one and be an introvert.

However, I also hate being locked in.  And this is mainly because I have to pee a lot in the mornings.  Like a lot.  Like, I could pee every 7 minutes if someone made me pee every 7 minutes because of a weird need to force someone to pee every 7 minutes.

Maybe this has something to do with the amount of coffee I drink in the mornings or the amount of children I have birthed but the problem is there no matter what the cause.

And I could interrupt the test, I really could.  No one would be mad at me except probably the students who are bothered by me startling them because no one expects someone to burst out of a closet in a computer lab shouting "Oh I AM sorry!  Don't mind me - I just need to pee because I've had gallons of coffee and birthed two children who destroyed my bottom half and ha-ha!  You know what I'm talking about, don't you?  But I'll only walk through this once, I promise, except not really because I have THE SMALLEST BLADDER IN THE WORLD."

The students tend to lose their focus when that happens.

So I hide and squirm until the last possible second because I don't want to disturb anyone or cause anyone a slight irritation.

In other, non-bladder-related news I sewed myself another Scout Tee.  This one is made from polyester and is teal with maroon stars on it and really, could there be any better fabric choice?

It makes me smile.

My sewing machine decided it hated me this weekend and started breaking my needle thread and bunching up my bobbin thread and generally being an asshole.  And then it stopped because I blew some dust out of the bobbin area and I patted myself on the back for being an expert sewing machine repair person.  And then it started up again.

And in other-other non-bladder-related news Adele picked out her clothes this morning and insisted on dressing herself completely and actually wore the school jumper I sewed for her and even put on her shoes and had very specific ideas about how she wanted her hair fixed and ate her breakfast and brushed her own teeth and this was a definite Excellent Morning, especially after we had a ridiculous weekend full of both kids bickering and fighting and pinching and my in-laws took pity on us when we went to eat dinner with them and let the kids stay the night at their house.

Chris and I went home and watched House of Cards.

And then we picked them up on Sunday and they were still fighting and last night Sebastian pinched his sister really hard and when he was reprimanded he asked (yelled) WHY DID YOU EVEN GET ME THEN and was very upset about the fact that, as he put it, Adele used to be the one hitting and pinching and now it was him and WOE IS HE WHO IS 6 YEARS OLD AND SUPER TIRED.

And then Sebastian told me that some of our friends' kids said Adele was a jerk which is TOTALLY NOT COOL YOU LITTLE JERKS.

And then everyone was fine and we read bedtime stories and both children actually listened to me read the stories, which is rare because usually storytime is also wrestling time and Adele went to bed again without screaming and throwing things at my head as I walked down the stairs and this morning it was so hard to wake up because I didn't sleep very well and had a 4 year old in my bed laying on my chest but the she got herself ready and it made me happy and a little relieved and Sebastian got himself ready like he always does which makes mornings that much more manageable.

And we played I-Spy on the way to school like we always do and Adele picked the yellow sun like she always does and I picked the red sign like I always do and Sebastian picked the white snow like he always does and Chris picked the brown building like he always does.

I have already wasted too much time discussing and thinking about Gilmore Girls

Not my photo, in case you were confused.

So I've been re-watching Gilmore Girls.

I know, I know.  Apparently I'm going through a crises wherein I try to relive my youth.  I first watched the show almost 10 years ago when my then-boyfriend, now-husband left me for the three months before our wedding to artificially impregnate salmon on a remote island in Alaska.  And then again for three months after our wedding.

I had some free time, is what I'm saying.

I borrowed the DVDs from my friend who had all but the second-to-last season, which I still haven't seen.  (I'm working up to it.)

I binge-watched them, obviously, spending hours watching and wishing I lived in Stars Hollow and worked at an inn and read even more books than I already did.

A lot has changed in my life in the last 10 years.  I got married, my husband returned from Alaska, we moved back home-ish, We became parents and then had another kid and I finally, sort of, started feeling like I had my stuff together as a Real Live Adult.

This is my frame of reference as I go through this saga one more time.

And you know what I've discovered?  Those two women are completely immature.  They have no idea how to be adults at all, even Rory.  They whine and are petty and lie about stupid things and GROW UP ALREADY.

But actually, that's what makes me like the show more, in a way.  It's realistic that someone who had a baby at 16 might not be the most mature and stable of adults.  Obviously that's not the case with everyone.  I know people who became parents young who are way more of an adult than people who started much later.

My point is, though, that it's believable that Lorelei would have made her daughter more of a friend than a daughter.  It makes sense that she took on that role and still acts like she's 16 because she never got to be a teenager and because she and Rory basically grew up together.

That being said, as someone who comes from a long line of women who value hard work and doing things for yourself and dear lord, don't ever scream when you see a mouse because that's just wimpy, the fact that Lorelei can't seem to do ANYTHING house-related makes me question how she ever survived life as long as she has.

And every time she whines to Luke about a broken window or roof problem or whatever makes me want to smack her and smack him, too.

Dude.  Cook a meal for yourself.  Clean your own gutters.  Do something other than watch tv and drink coffee!

And now I will excuse myself because apparently I've devoted entirely too much time and energy into analyzing Gilmore Girls.

Aaaaaaannnnddd I just found an old Myspace blog I wrote during the very last season of the show.  I cursed a lot more then.  Also I'm beginning to question whether I even enjoy this show at all or just enjoy torturing myself.

Please to be enjoying:

A blog-topic interlude to discuss the shit that is Gilmore Girls

11/29/2006 2:40:00 PM

11/29/2006 1:35:00 PM

I apologize ahead of time for this.  It's embarrassing to admit that I focus so much energy and thought onto this.  Please don't judge me!!! I do not like the Gilmore Girls, yet I will watch it.  I don't want to admit that it is complete crap this season and I will go down with its ship!  The show has gone completely and utterly off-track and I just don't understand.  Now granted, I hadn't seen but one or two before this past summer but I made up for lost time as I watched the first five seasons on DVD (thanks Lauren!).  So now I am an expert!  And the show has gone to shit.  Let me tell you why! 1.  Fucking Lorelei and Christopher.    ---Seriously?  Now they put Lorelei and Christopher together?  It's like the writers have been taken over by the super conservative crazies who believe that just because they procreated together they should be married, despite the fact that he's a big choad.  And oh yes, he is the choadiest of the choads.  I mean, who stops a knit-a-thon?  It's an A-thon!  It's not supposed to stop until the Thon is A-over!  He's been such an ass to the lady but that's all forgiven and la-la-la let's get married and live happily ever after!  2.  Luke and Lorelei ---They belong together.  I don't care that she's married and stupid.  The past 6 seasons have been about the tension between them because he is so very in love with him and she is completely oblivious.  Then they were together and all was right with the show, but of course there are supposed to be "obstacles" that get in the way, but it's supposed to turn out right in the end.  Do you remember Ross and Rachel?  That's just the way it goes!  And I can't suddenly turn that off and be happy about the Choad marriage.  Because if the writers wanted L&L to get back together, they would create some thick tension between Lorelei & Chris.  But I haven't seen it. 3.  Luke's hat ---Why in the world do they think that it's okay to keep him in the exact same costume for seven straight seasons?  Jeans?  check.  Flannel shirt?  check.  Backwards hat that looks really, really stupid and makes me want to rip it off his head and smack the costume design people with it?  Check!! 4.  I really don't feel like making lists anymore so I will just randomly complain.  I don't like Rory's boyfriend.  Where are all the dark and brooding boyfriends, like Jess?  I think she's probably supposed to end up with Jess.  Or even Marty!  He's dark and brooding!  The blond guy (what's his name?)  is just annoyingly rich and suave and I want to throw things at his head.  It's kind of funny that both Lorelei and Rory fought that whole elitist bullshit and are now wrapped all up in it.  I miss the poor Gilmore Girls!  And I miss the town!  They were so much fun!  There was a little bit of it last night but not nearly enough!  Is that enough?  What do you think about it?  Am I silly?  Do I need to just get a life?  Probably.  Okay.  Am done now.

Chocolate and coffee together is a gift from Baby Jesus

I'm not entirely sure I'm alive today, much less awake and functioning like a whole, real person.

I have approximately 4,239 photos like this,
which I'm calling "Pink Hat With Measuring
Tape Still Life."  Adele is very passionate about her art.

That's because, sometimes, living in the 'city' you are awoken at 3 a.m. by a high-pitched death scream outside your house.  And then again down the street.*

That, understandably, scared my daughter, who came downstairs and crawled into our bed whimpering.  But the only difference with last night and any other night of the past week or so was the whimpering because she is going through the same phase Sebastian did where my bed seems to have more of a draw then their own.

But last night I wasn't sleeping well anyway because I'd already been woken up by a phone alert that I'd sold another necklace to someone in Australia who required a tracking code and for some reason this completely stressed me out.  Like - how am I ever going to find time to go to the post office because work and children and life and washing dishes and I think it's time to pay that one bill and did I put the banana bread up that I made?  What about the yogurt?  What am I going to wear tomorrow?  Did I fill out that form for school?  I can't forget to put the meat out for dinner.  I really need to work on those knitting projects because they're on a deadline and even though I'm almost done with the first order what if I can't finish and everyone hates me?  Plus I really need those Kentucky necklace supplies to get here ASAP because I don't like having low stock on account of Christmas and the fact that a local store said I could sell some there ...

And on and on and on and on until I finally go to sleep, only to be awoken by the screams.  I made Chris go and check on Sebastian, just to be safe.  But I am 99 percent sure that there was a teenager out screaming just for kicks.  And to cause heart attacks.

So I'm thinking I had possibly two hours of sleep.  I am foggy.

I am also drinking coffee with a ton of chocolate syrup (full of high fructose corn syrup and loving it) because treat yo'self.

In other news we finally finished the soccer season that wouldn't end.  Sebastian had three games on Saturday which took up the entire day because he would have one, then get to go home for an hour, then have another.  It was exhausting.  But he did really good and I'm proud of him.  I am also happy that it's over.  As much as I love watching him play, I also love not spending all of our time at the soccer field.  So we are free until spring.

In other other news, I think we may have convinced Chris' parents to take the kids all weekend, which will be the first time and also they haven't spent the night anywhere in a long, long time and I would really like a morning where I could wake up without a small child needing something.

Plus - date night.

Also - Christmas shopping.  Trying to get a jump on things.  What would you like?

And in addition - daytime Netflix viewing of television not suitable for children.

It's gonna be awesome.

If I can ever wake up.

*This has never happened before.

I had my first kiss at the Meade County Fair. Don't tell Chris.

So I just submitted my monthly newspaper column and it was all about how I love to make things by hand.  I expect the hate mail to start about 20 minutes after it publishes.

It's not that I think I'm better because I make my own yogurt.  It's just that I really, really enjoy it.  I enjoy sewing clothes.  I enjoy knitting sweaters.

I'm a bit afraid I came off sounding like I'm awesome and you're not because I bake my own bread.  (Not always!  I swear!)

But really it's not because I think I'm better, it's because I'm 'frugal' and know that I can probably make something for much cheaper than I can buy it in the store.

Oh well.

At the moment I am actively avoiding my children.  Or child.  Sebastian is fine - he's building his new Lego Chima set and is actually a joy to play with.  The younger child, however, is not taking naps anymore - and hasn't been - and is short-tempered and violent and hoo-boy do I ever want to ship her off to someone else's house.  Or daycare.  I really, really miss daycare.

The hardest thing about being home for the past few weeks has been that I don't have any time to myself anymore.  It's back to constant companions and complete exhaustion when said companions are finally in bed.  That's not good for my introverted soul.

I know, I know.  Stop complaining you ungrateful woman.  I fully admit that I am never satisfied.  I missed them when I was at work and I missed being at work when I am at home.  And that my friends, is the circle of the life of a mom.  I'm about halfway done with my time before I have to go back to work.  Chris is taking a few days off next week and we're going to get the kids out of the house.  We'll probably go to the Meade County Fair - which, of course, is the biggest and best fair around.  The kids will love it.

I guess I should get back to parenting and stop actively avoiding my children.  Adele throws the blocks at my head if I don't play with her when she wants me to.

I blame Salinger

I know, I know.  I'm supposed to be showing you something that I've lovingly hand-crafted using nothing but yarn, love, time and barn wood.  And I have something I'd planned on sharing but my model is currently camped out on the couch feverish and inhaling vintage Spider-man cartoons on Netflix.  So you'll have to wait until next week for me to show you the hooded vest thing I knit for him.

And that's not the only thing I've made recently.  It's pretty much a nonstop knit-fest around here.  I knit while the coffee brews. I knit while my daughter plays blocks.  I knit and stand.  I knit during naptime.  I knit and read a Salinger biography in bed before lights out.  I have orders to fulfill, plus my brother-and-sister-in-law just bought a little shop and requested me to make some stuff to sell there, which I'm super excited about.  I've done baby sweaters and hats, and then my brother-in-law asked for some dirty deer hats so I've made two of those so far.  (Strange combination, huh?)

But anyway, sickness has invaded our house - with everyone feeling kind of blah and sore-throaty and congested.  Sebastian came downstairs at 3:30 in the morning because he was thirsty, and he woke me up from a dream where he and his sister were not my children - they were my brother and sister and I was upset because my mom was making me stay home from high school (HIGH SCHOOL!!) to take care of them because they were sick.

But maybe that's better than the dream I had the night before where I was in the middle of a Supernatural/Lord of the Rings epic battle where I stabbed someone in the heart with a steak knife.

So anyway, my point is that I don't really have one and am kind of sleepy because I couldn't turn off my brain after the early morning wake up and so am a bit delirious and have resorted to discussing my dreams with my blog.

But in my defense they're really interesting dreams. (HA!)

It's probably because I've been reading too much about Salinger before I go to sleep.

To compensate for this post here is a picture of my daughter wearing my reading glasses that I attempted to instagram but it no longer works on my phone and crashes every time I try to post a photo and makes me really sad because how else am I going to share photos of my dinner with the world?

Hoodoo is a word I got from the show Supernatural, which I am currently addicted to*

Time change, UUUUGGGHH ... amirite?

Sebastian has been out of school for the past two days which means all day fighting between the WORLD'S WORST SIBLINGS, or maybe it's THE WORLD'S MOST NORMAL SIBLINGS.  Either way, I'm about ready to lock them both in their rooms and break out the $3 wine I bought at Trader Joes this weekend.

Good times, no?

Yesterday I took them to the gym because they can go in the daycare for two hours and I can work out and not have to listen to any arguing over who's sitting too close to whom on the couch.  However, I think that I may be suffering from some time-change related hoodoo because I was working out on the bike that has the little screen thing where you can pretend you're actually going somewhere - you know, the one that hurts your lady choad - and I almost passed out.  Like literally.  It was a course that I've done before that's tough, but doable.  But not yesterday.  I got to the top of a hill, a straight up for miles hill, and had to quit.  And then I decided I needed to cool down a bit and I didn't want to just sit down with my head between my legs because I didn't want people coming over to me and trying to make me breathe into a paper bag or anything.  So I got on the treadmill walking slow but had to hold on because my vision started going dark around the edges. 

But my point with all that is that I didn't feel up to going back to the gym today because, for one, getting Adele dressed and ready to go involves lots of chasing and holding down and screaming and I wasn't in the mood.  Also I don't want to pass out unless that one cute guy is around to comfort me and I haven't seen him the last few times I've been there.

Yesterday in the locker room after showering and whatnot I had a teen girl from the swim team (they practice there) tell me that she liked my tights.  You'd think that would be super nice and make me feel totally with it, but in my case it made me feel like she was somehow being sarcastic because I am old.  I took a picture so you could tell me if I look hobo chic or kind of in style:

Notice the hand-knit boot cuffs.  I make to order!  $20!

 

 

But anyway, instead of gym time today I am plying my children with television.  However, I have to be careful because if Sebastian watches something that Adele isn't interested in she will just turn the TV off.  Or pull Sebastian's hair.  Or spit in his face.

I look forward to tomorrow when he is back in school and she is in school for one whole hour that I have to myself.

Now if you'll excuse me the children are sort-of occupied** so I'm going to go work on some knitting because of course I do.  I'm knitting to sell which means my children get screwed in the hand-knit department and also my wrists hurt.

Anybody need a scarf or hat or socks or baby sweater?  I'm totally available!

*Or maybe I'm just addicted to watching the troubled Dean.  I CAN SAVE YOU FROM YOURSELF, DEAN!

**Nevermind - they're totally screaming at each other again.

I think my children are happy I'm caffeinated as well, because I am much more patient

I've decided that ridiculously strong french press coffee at 2 p.m. while I sit on my front porch waiting the bus to drop Sebastian off from school is the best idea ever.

It may have something to do with my daughter who thinks that sleeping is stupid and so wakes up at weird hours, like 5 a.m., and won't go back to sleep and my husband waits until I've already gone up and semi-comforted our precious angel and come back downstairs before telling me that he was getting up anyway and could have gotten up with her instead of me.

Thanks, Christopher.  That was super helpful.

So I've been dragging all day, even after my morning dose of coffee.  But that coffee isn't thick, french press coffee.  So as I prepared myself to sit outside, which is my favorite part of the day because I am alone, sitting outside quietly knitting, I decided to make some coffee.  But I didn't want to make a pot because it seemed wasteful for just a cup.

And I'm so glad I opted for french press.  (I'm also trying to see how many times I can type 'french press' in one entry, and how many words I can write about coffee.  Because coffee is delicious and life-affirming.  Especially french press.  French press.  French press.)

But strong coffee in the afternoon makes me feel like a human again, instead of an exhausted mutant.  And it also makes me feel slightly less aggravated.  Like, I've been interrupted just now no less than 58 times to fetch my children random snacks and I'm still not wanting to lock the door and lock them out.  I mean really, you'd think that sitting them in front of the television would offer enough of a distraction, but no.

So strong coffee in the afternoon makes me want to accomplish things.  I've been plugging along pretty steadily making things for my etsy shop, but I've been pointedly ignoring the quilt I'm making for Sebastian.  Sometimes it just seems overwhelming, you know?  But I'm close enough that I think the super tedious part is behind me.  So I dove in this afternoon.  See?  Progress:

Notice the Tardis fabric? It makes me smile.

And I also decided to finally mix up the cream that's been sitting in my refrigerator and make some butter.  My sister gave me a bunch of milk that I needed to skim and pasteurize, and so I had an over-abundance of cream.  I made the mistake of pouring it all into the mixer at once and made a helluva mess.  But fresh butter was the result.

Butter.  Almost.

Strong coffee in the late afternoon even makes me want to blog when more often than not by this time of day I've already given up on finding the time to write.  Of course, I should be making dinner, as is evident by my starving children.

So I'm going to go now.

But just know that I am cooking dinner with gusto and boundless energy.

(Of course we all know that I'm either going to come down from this caffeine high at 7:30 and crash, or I won't be able to sleep all night long and will, once again, repeat the non-sleeping cycle.  I'll keep you informed as I'm sure everyone is waiting impatiently to hear how my evening went.)

Random Tuesday: More random than usual

1. Someone in the Ukraine really, really likes this post. 

2. I mean, I get it.  It's absolutely one of the best things ever written ever in the history of ever.  However maybe it's not quite as deserving of all the fuss.

3. But whatever.  You just enjoy that sort of anniversary post, you in the Ukraine.

4. I've been trying to come up with things to make and sell for some extra income, lately.

5. It's actually harder than I thought.

6. I mean, I make tons of stuff.  But I'm not sure my wrist could handle a whole bunch of knitting.

7. Also I don't know the laws on selling homemade kefir.

8. I've also recently made feta.  But it's still aging.

9. There's always sewing, but I'm not sure what I could sew.

10.  Of course, I also make jewelry sometimes.  So maybe that.

11.  I will probably open an Etsy shop.  Or something.  I don't know.  Any ideas?

12. It's always been my dream - to make things and sell them.

13. But now I can't figure out what to do.

14. I should probably use barn wood.

15. Everyone loves barn wood.

16. Subject change: I've been really enjoying my mornings at home with Adele while Sebastian is in school.

17. She's actually much calmer and insane one-on-one.

18. Of course, now that I've blogged that we'll have to call in an exorcist.

19. Again.

20. My feisty girl is almost 3, which means I've been at home with my kids for three years.

21. I'd like to think I'm better at it than I used to be.

22. But I'm probably just better medicated.

Let's catch up, shall we?

I seem to be neglecting this space.  And it's not like I don't have things to say.  I always have things to say.  And I've got lots I've wanted to share with you.  But this summer has been pretty full of Doing Things, which is marvelous, but doesn't leave much time for blogging.

I've been wanting to share lots of things with you, like how Adele has napped by herself, without me rocking her, for the past couple of weeks, which now that I've written it down will be the end of that, of course.

Or like how we've gone again to Huber's Orchard, and had a good time despite the exhausted kids who stayed up late backyard camping with their dad.

Or how we have been spending at least two nights a week swimming and we're all brown and waterlogged but are having a blast and how I decided to say screw it, I want a tan stomach so I'm wearing a bikini no matter what people think of how I look in it.

Or the fact that my diet is about 75 percent Paleo now, in the hopes of feeling better and having more energy.  I don't worry about the diet when I eat at someone else's house because at this point it's too much trouble.

But I think it's working out well.  After the first initial days of feeling like crap as I dealt with carb and sugar withdrawal, I'm doing well.  But I woke up last night for a couple of hours and am feeling it today.  But it's not as bad as usual when I don't sleep.  I'm grouchy and short tempered, but I do seem to be handling it with a bit more grace than usual.  The only real, noticable effect is my need to bake.  It's what happens to me when I'm exhausted.  Baking as therapy, you know?  So I've made a Paleo breakfast bake with eggs and cinnamon and almond flour and honey that the kids loved; and a loaf of Paleo Bread that my kids weren't all that fond of.  But I ate it and it was delicious.  Weirdos.

This new way of eating has required a lot of research, which I happily do, and it's also required a lot of from-scratch cooking, which I do anyway.  But I'm at the point where I can't stop looking up new recipes, or buying new cookbooks.  It's fascinating to me.

Let's see.  What else?

I got a sunburn on my back.  It hurts and itches at the same time.

Our garden is growing really well in spite of the fact that we bought a pack of cucumbers that turned out to be squash and if you know anything about squash plants, you know that they take over everything and are huge and don't leave room for much else.  But we've still gotten blueberries and tomatoes and cucumbers and squash (obviously) and radishes and any type of herb you can think of; and we've got some onions and green peppers growing.

It's a fantastic sight.

I think that's all for now.  I'm going to try to rest while Adele is napping and Sebastian is distracted with the 1966 version of Batman.

(Don't make fun of me for being a part of the Paleo Lifestyle.  And I promise not to say anything else like 'the Paleo Lifestyle.')

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.