Excited! And Not.

I can get excited about a lot of things. Such as:

  • School is starting in about six weeks.  This means I've survived half of the Summer, and we haven't all lost our minds yet.
  • We're going on our first family vacation ever, next week, to a resort by a lake, and we are pretty gosh darned happy about it.
  • Liam is starting to jump, and so, while he's currently screaming at his siblings for no apparent reason, I'm going to focus on the positive here, m'kay?  Jumping is a big deal developmentally!

But you know what I'm not excited about?

Changing my blog design.  Seriously, it makes me nuts.  Like pull my hair out by the roots, cry, and yell at inanimate objects kind of crazy.  But I did it anyway. This is the new layout.  If you hate it, please, lie to me.

I need to do this every so often.  I mean, granted, there are like two of you out there who read this, and even you go away when I neglect if for a long time. But while Facebook is great for keeping up with my mom and such, this has always been the place where I've written down the most important events in my family's life.  I want to write here.  I need to shake things up a little bit, sometimes, and get inspired.

Here's the thing with blog design.  It used to be free.  But now everyone is selling their designs on Etsy.  That's a giant pain in the ass.  Also, the thing with blogging these days, especially mommy blogs, is that they are Picture. Perfect.

I kid you not, from what looks to be a professional photo in their sidebar (as opposed to my iPhone selfie with a nice Instagram filter) to the perfect images of their impeccably dressed children, running on the beach.  These are perfect women, with perfect lives.  Or at least that's what a casual passer-by might think.  Okay, maybe it's just what I think.

And good for them!  I'd be perfect too, only I'm too busy magic erasing crayon off the walls.  And I'd look professional too, except I need a good filtered selfie so you can't see my wrinkles.

I'm comfortable.  I kind of want my blog to be comfortable, too.  I think I got as close as I can without paying someone hundreds of dollars to custom design something for me.

Anywho, the dog is barking that plaintive bark that sounds like a lower pitched version of your smoke detector warning beep.  You think she's done and then, nope, another bark saying, "please let me out so that I can eat the pork chops off your plates."

That probably means I should go eat dinner.  Keep reading, please, it makes me write more when you read it.

And you can comment.  I totally like that, too.


I'm Almost Old

So, a few weeks back, I was talking to my children. Which is a thing that happens with some regularity in my house.  Quinn looked at me, and told me that I was, "almost old".  Um, almost?

"I'm 36!" I told him.

"Yeah," he replied, with that look on his face that showed nothing but disdain for my slow comprehension, "but then, 37, 38, 39,....40."

The number 40 was said with such pity, it took me a minute to think of a response.  "Um, you know your dad is 46, right?"

"Yeah, Mom, Dad is really old."

Some days, they should really be grateful that, as a species, we don't eat our young.

So, I held on to those last weeks as tight as I could.  But, like days do, they slipped through my fingers and my birthday arrived, just like it always does.  And now, I am officially 37.  I am seriously almost old.  Allegedly.

Sometimes, I don't think I've really aged.  I think the kids are just catching up to me, and not slowly.  No, they are rapidly racing me to my middle-age.  I mean, this is the last school year that all of my children will be children, living in my house.  Reagan is going to be a Senior this year.  I'm not sure how that is even possible!

But hey, if I can't slow the time down, I'm hoping I can grab it with both hands, and suck every moment of joy from it, that I can.  I'm going to kick 37's ass.  Even if it is, "almost old".


Blog Overload

 I have a million things I want to discuss, so granted, my addled brain won't allow me to hold on to any one thought long enough to expand on it, and put it down on paper.

No, it all just flows around like great big thought soup.  So, how about this, I'm just going to throw out some random things, and if anything appeals to you, great.

Brennan has a virus, and while I hate when kids are sick, another part of me loves the intensive snuggling.  It's like they revert, just for a moment, and become my babies again.  That's normal, right?

Once upon a time, I had a Clinique lipstick called Black Honey.  Damn, I loved that color.  But it turns out one of my kids ate it.  Yes, I did say they ate it.  And I don't like to spend department store prices on make-up when there's a perfectly good alternative.  So, if you like Black Honey, try Revlon Color Burst Lip Butter in Fig Jam.  It's gorgeous and is an excellent dupe for Black Honey.

I think I might be mildly obsessed with maintaining my red hair color.  Like, I've spend enough time on websites, blogs, and YouTube channels, I might soon require an intervention.  Help me.

There is a mulberry tree growing on the side of my driveway.  It's become enormous this year.  And it's dropping mulberries.  It turns out that flies love mulberries with a passion unequaled.  Flies people, I think they're everywhere.  I might have to move.

There's so much more, but I've lost the ability to even remotely navigate my own brain soup.  See how brilliant I am at the end of the day?  The best thing I can come up with is brain soup.  I mean, really?

Oh, one more thing.  My new favorite YouTube Channel is Anglophenia.  Seriously, it makes this British/Welsh/American girl, very happy.  They can teach even you, how to use British idioms in every day speech.  As I head off to Bedfordshire (see how I did that?) I'll leave you with one to watch.


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