Come As You Are
Dear Dawn,
I got your message this afternoon. I missed the 30 minute window you gave me to call you back. I am sorry I'm not posting fast enough for your liking. I could give you a handful of excuses like, Christmas Holiday, still sick, boring life, not wanting to document my painfully close dances with insanity each day, and a broken hand. Only one of those is a lie.
On the other hand, each day, little things happen around here that I think are so blog-worthy but then I just don't have the energy to translate them through the keyboard into a way that you would care to know exactly in what manner my 3-year-old goes to the bathroom.
Today I went into three public places with my daughter's hair sticking straight up---all over her entire head. I would show you with a picture but I lost my camera a month ago. I am bereft, as you can imagine. Avee's hair was courtesy of first, a bowl of Cocoa Puffs she tried to wear, and then later, the bowl of Tuna Helper she DID wear. I didn't care.
I also hauled a 4 year old, 3 year old, 2 year old, and Avee to the auto shop to get an oil change. I kept waiting for things to get easier so I could squeeze in a simple oil change. 8 months later I realized that wasn't going to happen and that my car is probably going to blow up or something, so I just hauled the whole brood with me to get it done. Oh, and 5 different people asked me if they were all mine. I alternated telling each different person yes or no. What are they gonna do, follow me home to see if I'm lying? Besides, if they were all mine, it would justify my own appearance of looking like I used Tuna Helper to style my hair.
Ben got the movie Annie for Christmas.
Now when he gets a time out, in which he has to leave the room where everyone is because even being able to LOOK at people is enjoyable for him, he no longer wails nonsensical sounds and sobs loudly. He lays back on his bed and sings at the top of his lungs, "It's a hardware life FOR US!" over and over. I'm grateful for that change, but I fear Annie won't hold a candle to his own rendition.
Christmas was nice and relaxing. I won't tell you that I packed away the tree 15 minutes after the last present was open. I know that would offend every ounce of Christmas spirit that courses through your veins from about July to February. I will tell you that I made homemade cinnamon rolls and only burned half.
My husband got back on an airplane first thing Tuesday morning. I have no problem telling you, because you ASKED for this post, and so I feel no obligation to sugar-coat, as I live by the rule, beggars can't be choosers----I am sick to the very core of his early morning departures, week-long absences, and only short weekend "visits."
I have a cold sore square in the middle of my upper lip. I look like I got in a bad fight with a deep plum lipstick and lost. Badly. I don't care. Because things I CAN control about my appearance, I don't---so why get worked up about the things I can't control? I'd say I have a good attitude, wouldn't you?
Well, this is probably enough, without moving into the things that shouldn't be publicly admitted or documented in any way that can be traced back to me.
Avee has been playing in the sink with the water on the entire time I have been typing this.
Benja just thanked me "for letting him budge". Apparently budge means "you give people stuff" so that really clarifies things for me.
Oh yeah, and S's baby is apparently perfect. But I heard her cry once. She sounds like a 2 year old crying---there ain't much newborn about that little pumpkin. I'm aching to hold her. You know how that goes. She slept for 9 hours straight the night she turned 1 week old. I guess that's what happens when you get fed for 9 hours straight. Mmmmmm, I'd love that life.
Your friend,
Angela
I got your message this afternoon. I missed the 30 minute window you gave me to call you back. I am sorry I'm not posting fast enough for your liking. I could give you a handful of excuses like, Christmas Holiday, still sick, boring life, not wanting to document my painfully close dances with insanity each day, and a broken hand. Only one of those is a lie.
On the other hand, each day, little things happen around here that I think are so blog-worthy but then I just don't have the energy to translate them through the keyboard into a way that you would care to know exactly in what manner my 3-year-old goes to the bathroom.
Today I went into three public places with my daughter's hair sticking straight up---all over her entire head. I would show you with a picture but I lost my camera a month ago. I am bereft, as you can imagine. Avee's hair was courtesy of first, a bowl of Cocoa Puffs she tried to wear, and then later, the bowl of Tuna Helper she DID wear. I didn't care.
I also hauled a 4 year old, 3 year old, 2 year old, and Avee to the auto shop to get an oil change. I kept waiting for things to get easier so I could squeeze in a simple oil change. 8 months later I realized that wasn't going to happen and that my car is probably going to blow up or something, so I just hauled the whole brood with me to get it done. Oh, and 5 different people asked me if they were all mine. I alternated telling each different person yes or no. What are they gonna do, follow me home to see if I'm lying? Besides, if they were all mine, it would justify my own appearance of looking like I used Tuna Helper to style my hair.
Ben got the movie Annie for Christmas.
Now when he gets a time out, in which he has to leave the room where everyone is because even being able to LOOK at people is enjoyable for him, he no longer wails nonsensical sounds and sobs loudly. He lays back on his bed and sings at the top of his lungs, "It's a hardware life FOR US!" over and over. I'm grateful for that change, but I fear Annie won't hold a candle to his own rendition.
Christmas was nice and relaxing. I won't tell you that I packed away the tree 15 minutes after the last present was open. I know that would offend every ounce of Christmas spirit that courses through your veins from about July to February. I will tell you that I made homemade cinnamon rolls and only burned half.
My husband got back on an airplane first thing Tuesday morning. I have no problem telling you, because you ASKED for this post, and so I feel no obligation to sugar-coat, as I live by the rule, beggars can't be choosers----I am sick to the very core of his early morning departures, week-long absences, and only short weekend "visits."
I have a cold sore square in the middle of my upper lip. I look like I got in a bad fight with a deep plum lipstick and lost. Badly. I don't care. Because things I CAN control about my appearance, I don't---so why get worked up about the things I can't control? I'd say I have a good attitude, wouldn't you?
Well, this is probably enough, without moving into the things that shouldn't be publicly admitted or documented in any way that can be traced back to me.
Avee has been playing in the sink with the water on the entire time I have been typing this.
Benja just thanked me "for letting him budge". Apparently budge means "you give people stuff" so that really clarifies things for me.
Oh yeah, and S's baby is apparently perfect. But I heard her cry once. She sounds like a 2 year old crying---there ain't much newborn about that little pumpkin. I'm aching to hold her. You know how that goes. She slept for 9 hours straight the night she turned 1 week old. I guess that's what happens when you get fed for 9 hours straight. Mmmmmm, I'd love that life.
Your friend,
Angela
I was hopeful that the delay of a new blog was because J got a break this week and not due to the broken hand. Hmm...
I definately think you should tell people that they are all yours and that number 5 is on its way.
Good luck with the cold sore.
Posted by
Anonymous |
Thursday, December 28, 2006 7:56:00 PM
I know I asked (kinda demanded I guess) for this post, I really didn't know about the tuna helper hair styler or the cold sore, otherwise I'd have given you a few more days. By the way, it’s spelled NCS not “dawn”.
Benja is so wise even at his tender age of 3 years old: "It's a hardware life", he can totally see it now.
DH and I love to have fun with lookie-loos (the rest you can imagine), and so should you, next time, not only tell people the kids are all yours, tell them you are expecting twins, HA! Hilarity, serves them right for asking.
Here's for better days ahead my friends.
Posted by
Super Happy Girl |
Thursday, December 28, 2006 8:06:00 PM
I was thiiiiis close to asking when you were gonna get your sorry self up and posting again, but pure charity made me refrain. :) That and my conscience telling my own sorry self that I need to post if I want others to post (the golden rule of blogging, you know).
Please tell me the broken hand is a lie.
If it makes you feel any better at all, I've been coughing pretty constantly since Christmas Eve and soon I am either going to lose a lung or my uterus or both. And my 4yo is yelling at me to yell at the 2yo for doing something naughty that he taught him to do so that I would yell at him. Fun times.
Who wouldn't want five all of their own?
Posted by
Code Yellow Mom |
Friday, December 29, 2006 10:07:00 AM
LOL at "It's a Hardware Life!"
It must be so hard to have your hubby gone for long periods of time. You're a trooper. Did you really break your hand???
It was nice to click on your blog and to see a new post! :D
Posted by
Suzanne |
Friday, December 29, 2006 10:36:00 AM
Are you SURE it's a cold sore? Is there something else you're not telling us? Miss Broken Hand?
I'm sorry Jay's not around more. I'm sorry you haven't felt like posting much lately. I've been there. And the chaotic life with the kids - well, everyone tells me it goes by too fast and I feel like slapping them, so I won't tell you that.
But I hear you.
Posted by
Millie |
Friday, December 29, 2006 11:18:00 AM
How sad...... all of my demands and I am the 6th to post!... In my defense I am sure that I left the following message on your machine: Angela, where are you? How can you not be at home at 4:30 PM on a Wednesday. Shouldn't you still be basking in the glow of the twinkling lights on your Christmas tree and munching on the latest gourmet dessert you have prepared? The sparse blogging is not enough to quench my need to feel like I am still a part of your life. After all, was it not you who assured me that blogging was the latest, best, and only way to keep in touch with friends? Was it not you who introduced me to the blogs of NCS, CYM, Millie, and Amazing Shrinking lady? Are you not the reason for my lackluster performance at work because I am now addicted to these blogs? Was it not you who introduced me to wantnot.net (king size sheets for $5.99)? Please call me, Angela. If I do not hear from you in 30 minutes I am sure that I won't be able to go on.... Waiting desperately for your return call.... Dawn
Posted by
Anonymous |
Friday, December 29, 2006 12:19:00 PM
Alicia---I wish you had been right about my absence. I didn't really break my hand, but wouldn't that have been a good excuse? It was the one lie. The one about nearly going crazy everyday is absolutely true.
NCS---You probably thought there wasn't anything I HADN'T covered, didn't you? I like to keep some surprises for my blog. Aren't you glad? I need to adopt your's and DH's approach to lookie-loos.
CYM---good thing you held your tongue, eh? Dawn wasn't the first, or the second, or even the third to get on me about not blogging. But, she was the most recent. :) Sorry about your cough. Mine scares the children. Don't you love 4 year old parenting-assistants?
Suzanne--what a kind response to all my whining. Thank you. No broken hand here, just a compulsive need to make things up. At least I sorta confessed, right?
I basically live my life by the "two truths and a lie" game. :)
Millie--what are you suggesting!?
I do know it goes by fast, I believe that. Until Avee dumps 3 gallons of water on the bathroom floor and then every second really does feel like a lifetime. You can tell me to buck up and say whatever you want. You earned that right. With Harrison, then Carter, then Roz. :)
Dawn--I believe I have found the one friend who can weave a web of lies more seamlessly than me. Your message was sweet, and completely didn't deserve a whiney response like you got, but I think I would have remembered such blatant lies like my "latest gourmet dessert" and "lackluster performance". Besides, you got me addicted to Cherry Coke and since you know who I am, nothing I could get you addicted to will ever be as bad. :)
Posted by
Angela |
Friday, December 29, 2006 1:15:00 PM
What am I suggesting? Speaking of inappropriate humor...
Posted by
Millie |
Saturday, December 30, 2006 1:58:00 AM
I hate to be the loser friend who keeps leaving comments on the same post, but I was just going to ask if you could manage to flop that broken hand onto your keyboard and see if you could type out something halfway coherent-sounding.
Then I remembered... Jay's probably home. So no, guess not. :)
Posted by
Millie |
Monday, January 01, 2007 1:33:00 PM
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