head spins

My life can be a bit confusing being married to a mad scientist. This whole week Bear has been putting out fires and solving technical issues and developing process upgrades and all the other things he says he's doing when he's playing catch with the boy in his other family ... but he's been in and out to the lab at all hours of the day and night.

Really though. He had a terrible week. Month, actually. So he's having to work through the weekend and his 2 days off before the fourth. In an unprecedented show of support -- I'm going to Vermont with Rio for a week. Okay, that's not supportive but I *was* going to leave her here and now I'm not. But! I am doing some work while I'm up there so I have to find a sitter for her on Monday and Tuesday. Shouldn't be tough; loads of people would like to teach her bad words without me hanging around ... but my head is spinning and so is Bear's cuz it's just so darned hectic around here. I feel like our lives are supercharged and moving a little too fast. When I get back I'm going to make some changes. I don't know what they are yet, but they are coming. So, consider yourself warned.

***

In other news, I clearly don't know when to leave well enough alone. You may or may not remember, but my darling Rio did a LOT of sign language before she bothered speaking. It was getting a little, um, well, weird. And for a while there I thought she might not talk at all. Ever. Then one day she just started talking - clear as a bell - and now I wonder how I could be so silly. All the time. But that's another subject ....

At the library. There is a new train table set up there. Rio about croaks when she sees it. She picks out 3 books in 3 seconds and then only wants to play with the train. Enter 2 little girls. A bit older. And none too interested in playing with a little kid.

rio: waves Hi Girl!

girl: keeps playing and tries to ignore Rio's waving

rio: I like your hair, Girl! I actually snort a little because it is a disaster! clearly all the marks of yesterday's pig tails have it all crazy and lumpy and her bangs were straight up from sleep

girl: looks at Rio, looks back at trains.

I ask the girl her name, introduce the children and sit back to let them play.

rio: gets close to the girl, closer still, bends over and peers into her face and states, as loud and clear as can be - Mommy! Look at her nose! Is she sick? She has LOTS of boogies!'

What's a mom to do?

where one song rocks my world; for generations

Seriously? I've read all about infant brain development and I'm very aware of the evils and general misogyny of Disney and I'm ridiculously conscious of my language so I'm not adding to the barrage of gender bias in Rio's world ... I try soooo hard to be careful about what she watches and listens to even though if I ever saw an actual Big Red Dog I might try to hit it just a little bit AND I can't get 'Ten In The Bed' out of my head ... but every once in a while I think I should just throw in the towel. I should let her watch 'Dawson's Creek' and 'Sex and The City'. I should let her eat neon colored foods and drink high fructose corn syrup straight from the bottle. I should only have her bathe when *she* feels like it and I shouldn't bother with all the french baby stuff.

Why the change of heart? I'll tell you. Despite the fact that I maintain a Miss Porter's School For Girls training manual regiment, I obviously can't pull this off. Somewhere, I must have a leak. A pinhole where my natural badass, not a good role model, who gave that woman a KID-edness is shwoooshing out, into our immediate atmosphere.

Today, with Uncle Marky AND Daddy AND Jack riding along, her clear as a bell little voice piped up from the backseat and asked, "Can we hear 'Whoop That Trick'?".

I'll be in my room.

happy birthday bear!



Ode to Bear in Haiku

you are the best man
every day of the year
but this is your day

i will let you sleep
and sleep and sleep and sleep more
okay, until ten!

we will have some fun
because you bring us big joy
big joy, all the time

i love you my sweet
when you drive me to drink
you go get the wine

i may joke and poke
but *i* know that *you* know this:
you are my lobster

happy birthday bear
this year will be the best yet
i love you madly


hysteria, part duh

I shared my waking hours yesterday but, almost unbelievably, it got even better!

I leave for my lesson across town at 20 minutes until the hour. When I do so I don't have to speed, sweat the red lights, or run into the studio and jump on the piano. I usually enjoy the scenic ride over and arrive at my lesson mentally prepared to prostrate myself on the alter of adult piano lessons.

*ticktockticktock* You know where this is going, yes? The Little Gym ended at 10. I gave him 2 errands. Grocery store and drive-through dry cleaning.

At Whole Foods Market, instead of getting the 5 items on the list (arrange by aisle, right to left) he wandered about and picked up all the things *he* thought would be great to have. So when he was on 495 on the way home with 8 bags of groceries, he thought to himself, "Hmm, should I take exit 17 and go home or exit 16 and go to the post office (I had not asked for a post office run and he's too paranoid to trust the mailman to pick up mail so he always has to go himself. He doesn't even really trust me to put the mail in the box. It's truly bizarre, his postal affliction)?" when he glances at my piano lesson book and suddenly remembers me and then looks at the clock in the car that says 10:45 .

Five minutes after I would have left for my lesson. And he's a little over 10 minutes from the house. He panics and reaches for his cell phone and remembers that he lost it somewhere, not sure where or when ... so he comes straight home.

I realized he had been helpful and put my lesson book in the car but he'd forgotten me and forgotten to bring my cell and I had no way to know where he was or when he'd be home or if he'd be home at all! Now - my brother's 'new' car (which I can only assume came from a lost bet) has been in our driveway for almost 3 months. He's waiting for the kid to send him the title or some paperwork so we can register the damned thing. It has an illegal plate on it from taking it down the street for tires.

:)

I made the executive decision to take the POS to my lesson and only be 5 minutes late instead of gambling on Bear's timely arrival. Or even his eventual arrival. So, I drove an unregistered car in which none of the spinny dials work including the tach and speedometer so I didn't know how fast I was going or if I was in first or third gear. I couldn't really remember the gears on a VW so I made a couple false starts trying to back up. Then I entered busy traffic in what in retrospect was clearly 3rd gear so I drove in 2nd and 3rd gear across town in a car that I can't seem to turn off the deafening loud stereo playing Talking Heads. Additionally, this bad boy has racing pedals so every time I clutch or brake or apply gas, my flipflops catch on the pedals on either side ...

***

11:10 my cell rings. It's Bear calling from home to ask where I am. ??? I tell him I'm at my lesson. He asks if I'm mad and I assure him I take full responsibility for marrying someone with the inability to multi-task OR read a list OR be on time and he says, 'Whew!'. Twenty minutes later I hear 'Where is Nita?' and it's my daughter at the door of the lesson studio, calling me 'Nita' when we've discussed that I really prefer 'Mommy', because Bear has brought her over and he wants to jam. During my lesson.

Evidently, if I want a relaxing hobby that I can do alone, I'm going to have to take up fire eating in the backyard -- dangerous to get too close, not a sport for multiple players, and I won't have to drive anywhere ...

hysteria

Bear, in a moment of unprecedented morning parenting responsibility, offered to take Rio to her Saturday morning gym class for the summer session. So I could relax on Saturday mornings. Or at least do my housework without simultaneously playing with clay or paints or trying to bake with her helping or trying to vacuum while she throws things in my path ... you get the message, yes?!

So, today is Day One of Daddy getting up and getting her somewhere for 9:15. And he must leave by 8:55 to be on time ....Here is my morning thus far:

8:00 - wake Bear. go into Rio's room for a snuggle and discussion about 'Where are all my guys?'
8:15 - wake Bear. downstairs to make coffee and Rio's breakfast
8:20 - holler up stairs to wake Bear and bow to the suggestion of 'let's pee naked!'
8:25 - pack Rio's bag with snacks and extra clothes just in case. bring coffee upstairs
8:30 - wake Bear and inform him has to leave in 25 minuuuuuuuuuutessssssssssss
8:31 - write grocery list for Bear and put it with a note to pick up dry cleaning
8:33 - "you up?!" and he yells back "of course!"
8:35 - throw dice with Rio. make her sign over her college fund when she loses 5 straight throws
8:40 - Bear is up! And dressed! With shoes! And he asks me to figure out the mail order situation for his pills. explains that the doc wrote 3 X 90 when he needs 3 X 30 but the system wouldn't take it so now it says refills only in February but that should be for at least 9 months. I completely ignore this explanation and make a note 'drugs'.
8:45 - no slowing down on the explanation so I slip out to load the car and turn it on
8:50 - interrupt his ongoing explanation containing many mentions of 30, 60, 90 and February to give him grocery list, dry cleaning slip and coffee to go
8:51 - he complains that I'm throwing so many things at him when he just woke up! I explain he should have gotten up at 8 and he says 'Yeah, but I didn't so I'm not awake so stop giving me pieces of paper with all these commands cuz I'm not awake yet!!!' and I say, again, 'That's not my problem!' and he says 'I don't know what you're saying cuz I'm not awake yet!' and Rio looks at us like we're idiots
8:55 - I put Rio in the carseat while Bear goes up to brush his teeth. He's back faster than if he'd flossed and I hand him his to-go coffee and we kiss and they're off.

Phew! So, I have some time to have a cup of coffee, listen to the radio, do some chores and practice before my piano lesson. (Although clearly the practicing is gratuitous as I'm apparently some sort of adult savant ... or highly delusional. One of those things ...).

I sit down at the piano only to remember that Captain Helpful has taken my lesson book and put it in the car he just drove to the Little Gym. So I'll have it when I go to my lesson. In 3 hours.

Is it too early for cocktails?!

where i learn more about the odd customs of my new land

Did you know that no one gives gifts for the end of the class teacher present? Nope. Only me and Rio. On cards custom made by Mere at PaperCanteen. You should totally get your own so, you know, when you're making an ass out of yourself giving a teacher what looks like payola, well, your cards can be nice.

I swear I heard one of the ubersuburban moms say, "So *that's* how she got bumped to Giggle Bugs ..."

I made earrings and we gave a Dunkin' Donut gift card. Anyone that hyped up and psyched and downright mofo enthusiastic every morning *must* have a lot of coffee. I tried to get a Crack Card but no one had the right permits to sell around here ...

where i tip my hand regarding love of gangsta rap

** Bear and I sitting in the living room, watching television. 'Urinary Incontinence' commercial comes on. I have panic attack thinking about being forced to try all those meds even though my problem was surgically induced and I was unable to pee which is a whole different problem. And I experienced the entirety of the the panel of side effects. For each drug ... anyway, this snippet of a life waylaid follows:

me: Ugh. These commercials still give me a pit in my stomach.


bear: How come?

me: Duh. That year I couldn't pee? Remember I had to take all those drugs?


bear: Oh, yeah. Well, it's good that it's pretty much cleared up now, huh?

me: Yeah right. That shit is still all wack.

bear: ... *smirks*


me: What?


bear: We really need to move closer to an urban area so you can say 'that shit is still wack' and have an actual audience.

I think Frasier is making him snarky.

where i make a clarification

Dear M & M:

When I said, "I know you're going to be busy and I know it's a lot, so don't worry about calling me," well, I didn't mean it at all. Call me. Now, please.

where i practice for weeks to be drown out by crying

I've always wanted to learn how to play the piano. I bought one at a yardsale, oh, maybe 5 years ago. Got a great deal. Even had it tuned. A few times. Evidently if you don't play it can still lose its tune ...

Speaking of losing a tune, here is my first recital. My teacher rocks the planet and makes me want to play. Not that you can tell from the video ...

Oh, and when I look directly at the camera (it's hard to tell because Bear is shaking the thing so hard AND laughing AND trying to get Rio to yell 'Rock and roll!'), well, when I look directly at the camera it is to try to make my child laugh by sticking out my tongue.

In front of everyone.

I need a nap.




*I think it bears adding that while I have been eating compulsively for the past 2 weeks or so, I do not weigh 300 pounds like it seems in this video! I'm sitting on my leg for height, I have a diaphanous over piece, I ate all the black and white cookies because how often do black and whites make an appearance in Massachusetts suburban hell....??!!

mememememeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

I got tagged by feener and I'm playing along nicely :)

**
What were you doing 10 years ago ?
1997. Hmm. I believe that's the year I sold my salon. So that would also make it the year I moved to the Virgin Islands because my friend told me she had jobs and a house lined up for us but when we got there neither materialized so we just moved into a hotel and stayed until my money ran out. Great investment. I mean that!

** What were you doing 1 year ago ?
One year ago I was traveling the globe trying to find someone to help me pee again after my botched surgery. And I was crabby and in poor health and overly medicated with stuff that didn't work at all.

** Five Snacks you enjoy:
cheese
cherries
grilled pb&j
blue corn chips
ginger altoids

** Five songs to which I know all the lyrics:
i know the songs to virtually every top 40 song from the entirety of the 80s. i'm not proud, just sayin'...

** Five things I would do if I was a millionaire:
1. i would get my series 7 and
2. start my own ecologically responsible portfolio and
3. give 10k to 5 friends anonymously and
4. invest in my own business idea (details coming) and
5. take the profits from number 2 (haha) and buy an island. i want an island. you can totally come visit but i want to have, ready for this, la isla nita. no lie. i'm insane. but it'll have cool tiki huts and solar powered blenders.

** Five Bad Habits:
1. not following directions so the next 4 are bad habits i WISH i had
2. letting things slide and never thinking about them again
3. shooting up
4. scratching my balls in public
5. sleeping way too much

** Five things you like doing:
1. bear
2. teaching rio snarky sayings
3. reading for hours on end
4. hanging out with my grrls
5. cooking!

** Five things you would never wear again:
(okay, some pictures to follow)
1. a perm. ever. no matter what
2. my vinyl fetish dress
3. one giant earring in one ear and five studs in the other ear
4. layered polo shirts that match the color of my slacks and the embroidered whale/flamingo/nantucket basket/outline of cape cod ... kill me if those pictures surface
5. i'm taking a stand against this go round of crocs and if they come back again in 20 years

** Five Favorite toys:
1. bear
2. rio
3. online scrabble and jeopardy!
4. my professional steamer ( i am too much even for me)
5. my jewelry stuff

So, leave a comment if you want to fill this out and tell us about you!

where i try to explain how stupid one man can be

*Also, I've decided to start naming my posts with the 'major push of the piece'. I'm practicing my elevator pitch. You know, in case some famous literary person happens upon my blog and decides to print it verbatim because I hate editing and I refuse to rewrite and I don't care if I make sense to a random person trying to exploit my suffering for their amusement and the run on and incomplete sentences bother me not so much. So, the posts will be named for clarity and so you don't by mistake read about the miracle of NOT having hemorrhoids or when I talk about how weird it is that I get bumps on my fingers for no reason. Yeah, so you don't have to read something you're not interested in. So, yeah, again, for clarity's sake.

I was rushing about trying to get to Vermont on time to see my darlingest ever goddaughter graduate from 8th grade. I got her a little Coach clutch because she's getting too big to be my little clutch and I always want to feel like I'm close to her.

So, I'm running around and Bear offers to help with my 'to-do' list so I can just get going. Here is our conversation:

me: B, can you go to the bank and deposit this check and put cash in for the Little Gym?

bear: How about if I just go to the Little Gym and sign her up directly. That way you won't have to worry about it.

me: That would be great. Thanks so much! Remember what we talked about? She's ready for the next level but if you want to go with her on Saturday mornings, then she should stay in the parent/child class. It's not like she's overly prepared for the transition but either way... So, if you want to take on getting her to class and having time with her on Saturday mornings that's fine. Otherwise, sign her up for the next level either Tuesdays or Fridays. And the cutoff for the prepay discount is Friday. K?

bear: Oh yeah, I gotcha.

cut to Thursday evening's check-in phone call ...

me: So, did you sign her up?

bear: Yeah, I did, but the kid thinks it might be confusing for her.

me: What kid?

bear: Mr. Timmy. He helped me figure out which classes. And I thought you said it was going to be $XXX but it's not.

me: Classes?

bear: Yeah. I was going to sign her up for Saturdays with me and Tuesdays with you but Mr. Timmy said that might be confusing but then again, it might *not* be confusing and probably whatever you had suggested was the right thing to do. But I wasn't sure why it would be a different price so we both decided not to sign her up for two classes. With the confusion, you know ... about parent / no parent ...

me: I suggested either OR. The problem is that you don't listen to me.

bear: Hey, I do too listen to you. And I'm just trying to help.

me: How is it helpful if you've been all the way to Little Gym, haven't signed her up for anything, and the prepay discount ends tomorrow - before I can get back? Did you put the cash in my account so I can just call them and do it myself?

bear: Of course not. You said to pay the Little Gym.

...

The crux of the matter is that he doesn't listen to me. He watches me talk, nods where he thinks he should, and continues to think about why cars don't fly and how come cilantro tastes bad and whatever else his head is doing while he's letting my words wash over him like a meandering stream. So, technically, because my words have entered his ears at a time when we were both in the room, he will not admit he wasn't listening.

Seriously though? I asked what kind of sense did it make to sign up a kid for an 'up and down' like that? 'Up and down?' he says. 'Yah,' I tell him, 'like a sports contract. Up and down? Majors and minors?!'.

So, again he's listening but not getting a take-away.

Unless I can learn to think only as an ADD brilliant scientist who abhors organized sports and common sense, we're doomed to these arguments ...

i don't mean to brag, i don't mean to boast ...

Rio has a baby monster voice she uses. She's been known to speak in it until her voicebox is in obvious distress, which makes her laugh.

She's next to me right now, throwing mad monster voice, and she's saying, "Rock and roll! Freebirrrrrrd!"

giggle bugs! fuck yah!

My daughter runs and bounces around the outside rim of the Little Gym while the other kids, known as Super Beasts, pay attention and sing and do tricks as they are asked to.

My daughter has recently decided that these little people and their silly games might be fun. To that end she's joined in of late. Once in a while. If she feels like it.

Due to the fact that Rio *is* more interested and *is* participating and *is* happy there, Bear and I made the executive decision to piss more money against a wall while Rio does what she could do at home, alone, on things we already own. We planned to re-up for baby bootcamp.

The teacher sought me out to discuss the summer program and to compliment Rio on her accomplishments. My child was running in circles shaking her head and going, "Niiiiice spiiiiinnnniiinnnngggg Buddddyyyyy Boooyyyyyy!' at the time ... but Miss D recommended that Rio go up to the next level. I was super still in case she had me mistaken for someone else's mom and thanked her just this side of profusely.

When the next class starts Rio will be a Giggle Bug.

What does this mean? It means she goes into class alone and I sit at an observation window outside. It means I have 45 minutes to read a book. Or write notes. Or drink a cup of coffee without being asked 112 times if she can have a sip. Or knit if I knew how to knit. Or just sit there on my ass doing not one single thing.

So, yeah. It really is the little things exciting me lately ... do you think there's any possibility I could run out and get a life in those 45 minutes?!

where my inaction haunts me for days, weeks, months

I put Rio down for her nap and headed out to Barnes and Noble. My best friend told me I had to read this and I needed another copy of this so off I went.

On the way there, not even a mile out of our driveway/entrance into the Indy 500, I had to swerve to avoid a turtle in the road. 'Oo,' I thought, 'I should pull over and help that turtle cross' and then the internal 'S/he'll get across. People will see her/him and drive around. I wonder if it's a girl turtle or a boy turtle. I remember when I had 2 turtles and we left them on a radiator and then I had dessicated turtles ...' and 14 sides of my brain had an argument over the sex of the turtle and should I turn around or not turn around.

I turned around.

Too late.

I turned back around to go to the bookstore. Thing is - the whole rest of the day, including right this minute, has been spent thinking about that turtle. How s/he made it over the line before being pulverized beyond recognition. How it's little body looked, splayed, organs identifiable, shell cracked, strewn. And I have felt sad since.

I think the Universe is telling me something. Something I already know. I'm not a nutcase wandering around looking for big signs, but I got one today. I need to listen better to what I feel is right. Only then can I accept the consequences of action or inaction with any piece of mind. Helping someone or something is always the right thing to do and I've always done so. I've corralled loose dogs, stopped for kids in a roadside fight, had my car kicked by a pissed off asshole yelling at his girlfriend when I offered her a ride, bought meals for folks without homes ... it is my complete way of being to never look the other way. So I feel terrible about this turtle.

What the fuck is the matter with me?

I think I'm feeling a little off my center. I'm desperately grabbing at spare seconds to do things I want to do: make jewelry, blog, organize my desk, read, sleep ... and I've been feeling like my life is some sort of bizarre game show where I wake up and the clock starts and I start running full speed ahead into an arena to do battle with the Predator (that movie scared the shit out of me so hardcore that I am sans shit to this day!) and I am armed with a sponge and some non-toxic cleanser and a list of other things that really really need to get done if I manage to get out alive!!!

And sometimes in that rush, sometimes I move away from the person I have always been. I'm better about efficiently getting to the bookstore - list in hand because I won't have hours to sit on the floor simply looking ... better at time management and understanding infant development and not going insane whilst cleaning the babe's potty 27 times a day and saying 'Good job! One tinkle treat for you!' and not getting pissed off that every time I buy a boatload of a certain tinkle treat she will decide she no longer eats those and making sure the dog has his special tooth squirt after dinner and making cookies for Bear to take to work and changing sheets and sorting recycling and and and ... better at the Sisyphian job that is SAHM-hood but worse about things like moving turtles out of the road.

um, no.

In an effort to get myself out of the training trenches as quickly as possible, I am bribing my child to tinkle on the potty. With sugar. Over the counter, can buy it at a gas station, probably stocked in vending machines sugar. Hard core.

Yesterday she asked for a monkey ride. Under no circumstances do we call mommy a 'piggy' anything, so riding on my back is a monkey ride.

rio: Mommy, I want up! Monkey rides, puhwease! And you say 'whoo hoo hoo'!

me: hikes her up Whoo hoo hoo! Whoo hoo ... feels warmth on her back ... did you just tinkle?

rio: Yes! Yes I did tinkle!

me: On mommy?

rio: Yes! I tinkled on mommy! Now, I need a tinkle treat!

Somehow, somewhere, I'm screwing things up badly and I have no idea what to do but laugh.

internet dandelion puffs

I met my father when I was 30. Following their tumultuous childhood marriage, my mother moved us across the country and changed our names, making it difficult to maintain a relationship. That is me being snarky to cover something. It's been interesting. He's affable and charming and highly inconsistent. I suspect he would have been the kind of father who sees you once a year, maybe at the promised time and maybe not, and he would bring a pony. Yeah, I think that would have been his gig. He's right there for my little sister (half sister, his 2nd marriage, they grew up together in more ways than one) and I am thankful for that. She needs him. Me? Well, I'm still me.

His phone number changes in 3 month cycles and I'm never quite certain exactly where he's living. I know he helped my aunt fix up her 2 unit building and sell it. During that time I had an address. A place to send Christmas cards, pictures of his granddaughter ... So now, well, I haven't the foggiest where he lives.

When we were in Florida recently, he was in Florida. Lots of conversations about coming over, coming down, coming around. Wanted to see Rio.

We ended up not seeing him.

Today is his birthday. I'm uncertain as to exactly how old he is. Sometimes, okay, often our complete lack of connection saddens me. I have a pretty poor relationship with my mother. I have no relationship with my father. While I adore my mother's most recent ex-husband I suspect I work much harder at that relationship than he does. Lately it has occurred to me that I might sort of be an orphan. An orphan who is mostly responsible for the day to day raising of a child.

Whew.

So, happy birthday Father! I hope someone sings to you! I hope someone knows your favorite cake and makes you that cake and put the appropriate amount of candles on top! I hope someone tells you that you look great! I hope someone tells you to have a fantastic year! I hope someone makes you feel loved.

i'm just sayin' ...

In the near future I will sit down and do a stream of consciousness to help myself tease out all that went with Rio being gone for 2 days, 3 nights ... I use this blog like it uses me. Bear had some brilliance that is still being worked like a grain of sand and I'm hoping for a pearl.

In the meanwhile ...

Tonight my darling unpacked her game bag from being at Mama Bear's house. She unloaded the pieces of this game, arranged them according to size and color - as she is wont to do - and then she took the dice, blew on them and yelled "SNAKE EYES!" when they came to a stop.

I am going to have to check her bag for chips ...

fixed

Not sure when it happened and as of last night it was still wrong, but less than 24 hours after hearing from that one person on the ball* at Entrepreneur, Ebay's unbelievably horrifying typo has been fixed. Finally, I can stop compulsively checking it ....

*if you think about it, there really is only room for one person to be 'on the ball' at one time, right? my head hurts ....

thank that masked mom, whoever she is

I think I just butchered that, but I wasn't around when the Lone Ranger was on the moving picture box :)

Thanks so much to Masked Mom for giving me her coveted perfect post for the month of May for my Mother's Day experience. She is spot on with her observations, too. Being open, truly open, is terrifying. I think that speaks ill of formative experiences and I do struggle to let my husband utilize the All Access pass I carelessly handed him one Ground Hog's day ....

Anyway ... had I realized some of you are reading and thinking about what I've read, well, I would edit. Or make drafts. I don't. I simply spill it here - raw and uncensored. So I'm doubly appreciative and thankful for you. Yes, you.

:)

entrepreneur magazine has one working person!

Again, I sent a barrage of messages to Entrepreneur magazine. At 11:38 I got a response from one of this morning's emails! Now I'll track for you how long it takes Ebay to fix their error. This should be fascinating!

Well, fascinating for me, anyway. Hero of Horrid HTML, Tattler of Typos, Goddess of Grammar!

messy mom wreck

I was excited like you read about for a couple of days sans child. Many plans, many projects on the list, many hours of sleeping in my future ...

You totally knew I was going to cry the whole way home from dropping her off, didn't you? THANKS FOR THE HEADS UP!

bringing it // keeping it real // etc.

Today, I raise the bar.

I've been taking piano lessons. Link to follow. The guy is awesome. From my first lesson I've had fun and been inspired to prac.tice. Often. Butchering with regularity some of the great works of music. Happily.

Yesterday I was playing with my instructor's wife and awesome kids. Blahblahblah music, blahblahblah love rap, and viola! on the swing I busted out with a select few.

Nothing can be funnier than a 42 year old suburban stay at home mom swinging on a swing and rapping, yes? Let's hope so cuz today I'm busting it out, old skool, and rapping at my music lesson. Who knows? Maybe it'll make YouTube?!