Butterfly

“And is it right
Butterfly
They like you better framed and dried….”
-Tori Amos

Today is the last day of what feels like an impossibly long weekend – and I know that it goes against every single grain and that I’m supposed to love long holiday weekends and these days full of no expectations but I don’t. The fact that the past few days I haven’t even really known what day it was? That sucks.

It hasn’t been a horrible weekend, though. I got a ton of stuff done, a ton of holiday shopping done. Last weekend, my husband was spouting off big plans to get out of town this weekend. We’d leave Thanksgiving night – us and our kids – and we’d spend the weekend somewhere. He named a few places and then he never mentioned it again. Did I want to spend 20 hours of this weekend in the car? Eh. It wouldn’t have been the best timing, but instead of being a weekend of insanity with lots of travel it was a weekend with a lot of idle time. Some people do great with idle time. I’m not really one of them.

I got to sleep in this morning which was good. I woke up at 6:30 and fought it. Fell back to sleep and woke up to an empty bed around 7ish. Realized that it was my day to sleep in and then kicked back half asleep, half awake until sometime after 8 o’clock. I realize that to many that doesn’t sound remotely like sleeping in, but to me, oh yeah. I feel pretty good having gotten the rest, and pretty good that it’s FINALLY really Sunday (since it’s felt like Sunday for about three days now). I look forward to sending my oldest kiddo back to school tomorrow and my husband back to work. My youngest and I will kick back and try to find some normalcy in our schedule again and enjoy the peace.

Nothing on my schedule today except possibly more holiday shopping. Nah, I don’t need to do it today, but sort of want to. It beats my second option which is to deal with all these damn Christmas cards I need to address and send out. I shouldn’t sound so blah about Christmas cards, because seriously: I LIKE TO SEND CARDS but for some reason I’m not feeling it yet – so here they sit on my desk in a bag from Hallmark. This is the first year in the longest time that I’m not sending a family picture – wasn’t feeling that this year either. Generic Hallmark cards for everyone. Wheeee.

I’m off to referee a girl fight that has broken out over a hair ribbon. I hope everyone has a great Sunday and has enjoyed their holiday weekend.

Shattered

“How many times can I break til I shatter?”
-OAR

This is one of those songs that I heard on the radio 101 times before I tried to figure out who it was, even though every time it would come on I would turn up the radio. Now, it kind of gets overplayed but I still like it.

Also, “Shattered” is one of those words that if you say it enough times starts sounding really funny. I’m just sayin’.

How Sweet It Is To Be Loved By You

“I just want to stop and thank you baby…”
-James Taylor

As promise, a Thanksgiving day post full of gratitude or something resembling it. I just got home from the festivities at my mom’s house. It wasn’t too painful, actually – with the exception of the fact that in three hours my 34-year-old brother was in tears no fewer than three times. It’s really odd – I should be used to it, but I still can’t always wrap my head around the fact that his reactions to things are so extreme and that he really just is a kid.

It made me glad to leave to come home, though. The house is fairly quiet – we’re all kind of in our food-induced stupors. My girls are zoning on the couch watching television and my husband is checking fantasy football bullshit (seriously, it’s the strangest addiction EVER).

Today, I am grateful for:

• my daughters – today and always. I know that above all else, I was meant to be their mom and that is the only explanation for so many things. That I was meant to have those kids and they were meant to be in my life. I love ‘em. Even if they don’t let me sleep in.
• Thong underwear (Told ya). I couldn’t even wear a pair of bikini underwear all day if I tried now.
• That the dude at Starbucks knows my name and my order and all I have to do is walk in and say hello and he’s at it making my coffee. Yes, that means I go there too damn much.
• That I have some of the most amazing friends. Sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky to have such good people in my world – surely I couldn’t be worthy – but my god, I am really a lucky girl. I don’t have truckloads of friends that fill my social calendar – I’ve never really been into that. But the people I let into my life? I’m so lucky that they’re there.
• Acoustic guitars. Yeah, I’m not that great at it. But I love it and it’s a piece of me that belongs to just me.
• Words. Even when it’s bad, it’s good. I am grateful that I am (usually) able to express myself in writing.
• Hot baths in huge tubs
• Margarita pedicures
• Well… pedicures… period.
• Redken Smooth Down shampoo and conditioner (feels good, smells good)
• Full night’s sleep
• Bliss
• Good music to listen to
• iPods and headphones (especially on days like today when my brother is crying…AGAIN. Thank you Apple)
• Gingerbread – cookies, latte, or just plain ol’ gingerbread. Yuuuuuuuum.
• Hershey’s Special Dark chocolate
• Inside jokes
• Funny people who make me laugh
• The good kind of goosebumps

And so many other things. I hope everyone is enjoying their Thanksgiving and that your life is filled with things you are thankful for.

Shy That Way

“The way you keep your distance is
Keeping my interest
So I’ll keep it consistent…”
-Jason Mraz/Tristan Prettyman

The school somehow felt it was necessary to give the kids today off from school, making it a five day weekend I’ve got on complete mom duty. That means that what you may find over this next weekend, given that I will be nearly constantly surrounded by people is a) I may be a bit more random – so songs and posts may not necessarily relate and b) it is entirely possible that I might be a smidge more cranky. But – I am going to be kicking back with my mom for her fantastically awesome Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow, and honestly, that will knock me into an overindulged food coma for a good several hours. Maybe longer. I love Thanksgiving because I love the food. It is the only time I get together with my family where they don’t accuse me of having an eating disorder – well, they do if I make the mistake of leaving the table too soon after shoveling food down my throat (but I’ve never been a puker – so really, don’t worry).

I started looking today at ads for Black Friday – trying to decide if I want to go out and get some shopping done. I’ve decided that I’m probably going to do it. Granted, there’s nothing that I really need but a woman sometimes goes through some desperate measures to get out of the house sans family during an extended vacation. Besides, they’ve got complete seasons of “Entourage” on sale for ten bucks at Best Buy. I mean, for $30, I can park my ass on the couch and watch Adrian Grenier for hours and that is almost worth getting up at the crack of dawn and driving to the store. (What makes it worth it is that they’ve also got “Prison Break” on sale – Wentworth Miller. Damn). Oh, I know, I should totally be buying gifts for other people, but… I have needs, people.

Tomorrow, you can probably expect (at some point) some kind of post telling you things I’m thankful for and maybe I’ll be a little sentimental and sappy and goofy, but more likely I’ll tell you about how I’m still thankful for Starbucks, thong underwear and acoustic guitars.

Have a good night, everyone.

The Best Day

“It’s the edge of princesses and pirate ships
And the seven dwarves
Daddy’s smart
And you’re the prettiest lady in the whole wide world

Now I know why all the trees change in the fall
And you were on my side
Even when I was wrong
And I love you for giving me your eyes
Staying back and watching me shine

And I didn’t know if you knew
So I’m taking this chance to say
That I had the best day
With you today…”
-Taylor Swift

This is the song that I was listening to with my little one yesterday. My older daughter is a huge Taylor Swift fan and I really don’t mind her – I find her less annoying than the “High School Musical” catalog. Yesterday though, I was listening to this song with my daughter, we were singing, and it was just one of those moments that I knew I had to write down to remember because we were both just present in the moment.

When I was listening to that song, I got a little sad. Though my childhood was far from one of deprivation or abuse or angry words (well, none really directed at me for the most part), when I think of my childhood I guess I don’t think of the things Taylor Swift sings about. Partly, it’s because Taylor Swift is still just a kid – the memories are closer to her probably and it’s easy to reminisce without all the distance between you and your childhood. The older you get though, the easier it is for those memories to slip away. And that sucks.

I am always thinking about parenting because I am a parent. I want my children to grow up feeling like I’ve got their back, that they can count on me, but that while I’m there to support them I still have guidelines, rules and boundaries and that those are there only because I love them so much. I had the kind of childhood where even though all my friends flocked to my mother to talk to her about their problems, I never felt I could. To this day, I still don’t feel like I truly am who I really am with my mom. I think I’m often the person that I know she wants me to be. I tried to be the child who didn’t cause her problems – and as a result, I’m sure I was the near perfect kid. There were no phone calls from the school about me. There were no failed grades. There was just honor society, sweetness and a go-along attitude.

I felt sad hearing this song because I don’t have pumpkin patch memories and so I kind of forced myself to roll the thought over in my head while I was driving this morning and I remembered the day in kindergarten when I woke up one morning to a swollen eye. In the night, a spider had bit my eyelid and it puffed up so big that I couldn’t open my eye. As a result, I didn’t go to school that day but rather stayed home with my dad all day and I remember he made my favorite food for lunch even though (now that I’m older and have made it myself so I KNOW) the meal was a bitch to make and probably took far longer than one should take to prepare lunch for a five-year-old. Or the times my mom would come to visit me at college – a five hour round trip – with bags full of groceries, just because. Or the day my day camp was going to Great America for the day and I got sick in the car on the way there so my mom took me to rest at my dad’s, and after I was feeling better, he drove me over an hour to get to the amusement park. Or how Mom took me to Nutcracker every year at this time.

And sometimes I wish I had more memories of my childhood that were the stuff of song lyrics and not the “asshole stepfather went to jail for drunk driving” stories. And the “your dad is late paying childsupport again” stories. But, it is what it is. But I’m so aware with my kids. I’m not always good at making all the moments count and I’m not always present, but I try to parent to keep them from ever having any doubt that if I never do anything else in my life of any importance, being there for them to make them into good people is the thing that matters most. And I find that in some ways I parent like my parents did… and in some ways, I fight that and parent how I wish they had.

And it’s Tuesday. If you’re a parent, do you parent like your parents did or not? If you don’t yet have kids, do you think you want to be the kind of parent you had or will you try to parent differently?

Monday, Monday

“Monday Monday
So good to me…”
-The Mamas & The Papas

Yeah. I like Mondays. I realize that it’s not a popular view point, and I realize that I’m probably warped in some way for loving Mondays like I do, but… I do. On the heels of crazy weekends, Mondays hold a certain appeal. For example today means that my six year old is back to school, my felon-in-training stepson is back home with his mother, and my cranky husband is back in the office. Me and my three year old have been kicking back today – we ran some errands, we baked a little, we listened to music and sang along. And she’s the cutest damn thing ever because she sings along when she doesn’t even know the words but my god that girl picks up melody pretty quickly. Good to know that the music gene hit her somehow (my older daughter has a very sweet little voice and can carry a tune – has always been able to… My younger… not quite as melodious, I guess). We sat listening to a song a few times and by the third time, she was singing if not the words than the melody and she has a great ear for that stuff. She’d sing and then look at me and smile and put her hand on mine.

I probably wouldn’t have had that with my house full.

And you all know I had a good weekend. Well, until yesterday. We did some family togetherness stuff. But then my stepson tried to sneak around my husband’s back in getting out of his grounding (the kid only has a few more days left – so to blow it now is just insane), which sent my husband in a pissy mood. And then my Stepson’s mom called as we were sitting down to eat wanting my husband to bring my stepkid home AT THAT MOMENT and as he was putting on his coat and shoes and ready to leave me and our daughters at dinner time, frankly I  was more than a little annoyed that she says the word and he goes running so as to avoid any confrontation with her, but I don’t get the same courtesy (I know it’s because I’m not a stark raving nut ball and she is, but I figure, if you’re gonna kiss a woman’s ass, it SHOULD be the one you are married to).

Later, while he was helping my daughter clean out her fish tank she told him as he was dumping the fish from the small bowl back into the tank, “Dad, there’s too much water in there. It’s going to spill.” (Honestly, you really should never ignore this kid when she says stuff like that – it’s easy to brush it off because she’s a kid – but she’s pretty fucking smart. And often, she’s right). And, lo and behold, he overflowed the fishtank which sits on top of her dresser and lots of water cascaded into her open drawer soaking all of her blue jeans. And she was upset. She came to tell me. Then he got pissed that she “tattled on him” (Hello? Are YOU six?) so he threatened to flush her fish down the toilet. And hey – it made her cry. It’s insane. It’s TOTALLY insane. Storming into the other room, I asked if he REALLY just threatened flushing the fish. Yes. Not acceptable to me. And I told him so. And he apologized to our daughter, but I tell you what… The kid who normally only wants dad to read her bedtime stories? Last night she picked me.  I got to curl up with her and read her a chapter of her new book and though he apologized to her later, it obviously sunk in with her. For her to choose me over him? She was clearly upset.

I don’t know what the hell is wrong with him, but I do know that Mondays are my favorite day of the week lately. And Tuesdays are even better.

Goodies

“I’m the truth
And ain’t got nothing to prove
And you can ask anybody
Cuz they seen me do it
Barricades I run right through ‘em
I’m used to ‘em…”
-Ciara & Petey Pablo

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday. Awake after nearly eight hours of snoozing, I’m glad to see the sun shining and though I know it’s bitter freakin’ cold outside, it’s good to see the sun. This time of year, I don’t see the sun nearly enough. I am convinced I pretty much live in the wrong part of the country, with the wrong kind of climate. No, this wasn’t a new revelation – just a bitter reminder every year at this time.

I have nothing on my calendar today and I’m going to make an effort to just roll with it. I had actually loaded my weekend with time for ME and that might explain my feeling less like I want to punch someone in the face (it’s not pretty but it’s true: when I have time to chill, just be myself and not have to meet everyone’s needs, I’m decidedly more pleasant and less bitchy). Friday, I had a family style Girls Night with my mom and sister. We ventured out to the movies where we ate massive amounts of popcorn and drank flat diet Coke and where I rolled home to a quiet, sleeping house somewhere around midnight. The movie itself was only so-so and I was mildly distracted anyway, but honestly, it wouldn’t have mattered if the movie was complete shit and I slept in that seat the whole time. It was just good to be gone.

Yesterday, I hung with some girlfriends all day. We basically took over my kitchen and for about six hours my husband was on Dad duty (and that meant taking my older daughter to not one but TWO birthday parties she’d been invited to) and kind of forced to step up to the plate parenting-wise. And it was good. I think it’s good for him to be reminded sometimes how hard it is to parent – with very little help. He wrapped up the day with a Guys Night and I wrapped up the day soaking in a hot bath and just RELAXING. I don’t relax nearly often enough. It was good. Very very good.

So, today I am back at the regular old mom stuff but feeling alright. No plans, no expectations. Happy Sunday.

*Annoying song of the day from a dance workout I did the other day, so it’s stuck in my head, “I’m not bein’ too dramatic…”

Anna Begins

“My friend assures me, “It’s all or nothing.”
I am not worried
I am not overly concerned
My friend implores me, “For one time only,
make an exception.” I am not worried
Wrap her up in a package of lies
Send her off to a coconut island
I am not worried I am not overly concerned
with the status of my emotions
“Oh,” she says, “you’re changing.”
But we’re always changing

It does not bother me to say this isn’t love
Because if you don’t want to talk about it then it isn’t love
And I guess I’m going to have to live with that
But I’m sure there’s something in a shade of grey,
Something in between,
And I can always change my name
If that’s what you mean

My friend assures me, “It’s all or nothing.”
But I am not really worried I am not overly concerned
You try to tell yourself the things you try to tell yourself
To make yourself forget I am not worried
“If it’s love,” she said, “then we’re going to have to think about the consequences.”
She can’t stop shaking
I can’t stop touching her and…

This time when kindness falls like rain
It washes her away and Anna begins to change her mind
“These seconds when I’m shaking leave me shuddering for days,” she says
And I’m not ready for this sort of thing

But I’m not going to break and I’m not going to worry about it anymore
I’m not going to bend, and I’m not going to break and I’m not going to worry about it anymore
It seems like I should say, “As long as this is love…”
But it’s not all that easy so maybe I should
Snap her up in a butterfly net Pin her down on a photograph album
I am not worried I’ve done this sort of thing before
But then I start to think about the consequences
Because I don’t get no sleep in a quiet room and…

The time when k indness falls like rain
It washes me away and Anna begin s to change my mind
And eve rytime she sneezes I believe it’s love and
Oh lord, I’m not ready for this sort of thing

She’s talking in her sleep
It’s keeping me awake and Anna begins to toss and turn
And every word is nonsense but I understand and
Oh lord, I’m not ready for this sort of thing

Her kindness bangs a gong
It’s moving me along and Anna begins to fade away
It’s chasing me away
She disappears and
Oh lord, I’m not ready for this sort of thing.”
-Counting Crows

I don’t normally post lyrics in their entirety. This is one of my all time favorite songs and one that nearly drove me to name my daughter after a song. I didn’t. I managed to restrain myself and go another route and not name her Anna. But this has been one of my favorite songs since this album came out.

And because I’m a curious person, sometimes I wonder about the Anna of this song – who she is and how she feels knowing this is about her. But then again, I think too much. 

American Girls

“American girls are weather and noise
Playing the changes for all of the boys
Holding a candle right up to my hands
Making me feel so incredible…”
-Counting Crows

Somedays, I feel like such a girl. Lately, I’ve been feeling very girly and very moody and blah blah blah, and then somehow this morning the sun is out and I managed to get things done (even though I hated every minute of it) and didn’t realize until I got home that I went out in a pony tail, sweatshirt, and no makeup and to be honest wasn’t the least bit mortified. Didn’t care in the slightest. I had priorities, y’know. (Damn well better believe I didn’t forget my gloves. Or a warm vest).

I guess sometimes I wish I was the kind of person who wanted to be “on” all the time, but frankly, I’m just not. And it’s too bad, because I love the feeling I have when I’m all done up – the hair is done, I’ve got a little makeup on I love how I feel a tiny bit more together, and sometimes I feel pretty. And who doesn’t love pretty? By the way, my nickname for this eyeshadow I’m wearing in this picture is “stripper dust” because it’s glittery. By the end of the night, I tend to have glitter in places I didn’t start with, because it just kind of sparkles all over. It’s a pain in the ass, but a little bit fun. It’s weird, because I do feel so good when I’m all glittered up, but just can’t seem to be bothered to do it most of the time. And to be honest, I don’t totally mind that about myself. I would have a hard time being one of those women who spends more time getting ready to run an errand than she actually spends running the errand.

But even as I type, with a kid napping and plans for the evening and knowing how much better I feel when I’m a little more put together, I have yet to get off my ass and get done up. How long do you all spend getting yourselves together for the day (Yes, men too!). I’m trying to figure out just where I fall on the whole spectrum.

I’m So Tired

“I’m so tired I haven’t slept a wink
I’m so tired, my mind is on the blink.”
-The Beatles

I’m freaking exhausted lately. And bitchy. And bitchy because I’m exhausted and exhausted because I’m bitchy, and well… You can see, this is really just a vicious cycle. I’m pretty in tune with my moods – I spend a lot of time thinking and over-thinking and when I feel off-kilter, I generally am pretty aware of it pretty fast that something is not right in my world. I’ve never been one of those people who kind of goes off the rails unaware that maybe she’s acting a tad…affected. I always know when something is weighing me down. I’m aware of the minute shift in my mood (or… maybe minute is a really dumb word to use, because sometimes, it’s feels less minute and more “really freakin’ big”).

So when I have been exhausted even after eight hours of sleep and crashing on the couch in the middle of the day, I was SURE that this was the work of my Lameass Thyroid™. It had all the symptoms: tired, moody, cold all the time, and my doctor had just lowered my dose of medicine to regulate my thyroid level. That had to be it. I called her up and she ordered the blood draw which I had done on Tuesday. That was the most painful blood draw ever and two days later I have a scab where the chicky poked me and a big bruise around that. But insult to (literal) injury: My blood work is fine. My thyroid is fine.

Oh yeah.

I’m just a cranky, sleepy bitch all on my own.

I can’t say that I found that thought to be of particular comfort. I spent some time yesterday thinking it over, because, well that’s what I do. I thought about it more this morning when I was up at 5:30 (!) with my daughter. And thought about it at 7 when I washed all the pans that were somehow used for last night’s dinner prep while I was out and not washed or even rinsed – just left on the stove to harden. And thought about it at 7:30 when I was making lunch for my oldest kid. And at 7:45 when I was putting away the ironing board because my husband apparently must not know how the mechanism to shut the damn thing works (since he leaves it out Monday through Friday). I was still thinking at 8 when I was taking care of breakfast dishes. And at 8:20 when I bundling the youngest to brave the outside weather. And 8:25 when I told my oldest that she was cold because her coat wasn’t zipped. Or 9 a.m. when I was vacuuming popcorn out of the living room carpet.

And in just those few hours, I guess I realize that I’m a bit bitchy for a reason. I think maybe I need a wife.