Horrible Parents, all around

I think that every parent has a moment when they realize that they goofed. Admitting that we screwed up, and trying to correct the situation is the adult thing to do. Right? It teaches our children that we are fallible, human and that we are big enough people to admit that we were wrong.

Last Easter someone thought that the kids had gotten too much candy from the Easter Bunny. He decided to take part of it from The Candy Stash and put it far away, for later in the year.

(Yeah, I said "he".  Pfft, you didn't think I had messed up, did you?)

This parent hid the candy so well, that he only just recently discovered it and reunited it with the kids. This happened the day after we put up the Christmas tree.Many, many, months after Easter.

 2/3rds of the kids were willing to have their emotions recorded- to show that parent exactly how they felt. And of course, a picture often tells a story far better than words ever could:

 Yes, we all make mistakes. To err is human, to post it on the internet is...

It's not about vodka

And it's not about candy or mommy bloggers or recipes...although I know that you like that stuff. It's about mothers and daughters and that the issues surrounding coming-of-age are not entirely related to the time that it happens. 1950's, 1970's or now...times change, but sometimes they don't.

It's about what happens when you wish for something and it comes true.

It's about rock and roll, and sailing, and art and there is a mermaid involved in the mix mostly because I dig mermaids.

It's my nanowrimo project and it came in just under 60K on November 28 which is when I got to The End. That was my goal, write the whole thing- Once Upon a Time to The End- in a month. I'm in the process of filling in the chapters that were a little light, and then I'm going to go back and probably re-write the darn thing. And because I seem to only work well with a deadline, I'm giving myself one: my birthday. February 1st.

Lofty, I know. 

What did I learn this year, my second nano? Hmm...not sure. It was a more social year- I joined two nanowrimo groups which was fun. I met some really interesting people and that experience enriched my process. I also got to see that some who I already knew were just as crazy committed to the project as I was, and that shared history can only deepen our friendships. Writing wise, I'm not sure. I learned a lot this past year about style and pace and basic format (and a bunch of other stuff)...so I don't think that I can attribute these lessons to nano or not. And really, this makes some seriously boring blog reading especially since I am not a published novelist.

Now it's December. Life has yet to return to a normal pace. It's Christmas, and my house was a wreck after nano. Beckett and I wanted to keep as much on our podcasting schedule as possible so we are putting a lot of energy into that. The one we recorded yesterday--going out on a limb here- may be my most favorite one yet!

Anyway, I realize that this is not a very compelling post (which is why I won't pimp it...hahaha) but I wanted to get down in writing that I finished Nano. I got to the required 50K words in 19 days to earn my web badge. And then I got to the end. 

I may post a chapter here at some point. Some people have asked me to. If I can figure out if they want to read it to see if I'm a horrible writer or because they are genuinely interested- I might do it. But it will be stealth. Like this one.

Ninja-style...ooh, a ninja-mermaid...I may have my next project idea....

Susan

And then I burned the crap out of the stove...

I like to make cranberry sauce. It's easy and well received and lasts a while- the batch  that I whip up at Thanksgiving makes it through New Year's. This is the cranberry sauce that people who turn up their noses at the canned stuff devour. Or at least eat. It's good. And easy. And pretty.

I thought I would share it with you this year,so I got to cooking the other other day...and well, and share I will. The good, and the Dang It! I did what?

Orange Cranberry Sauce


1 bag fresh cranberries
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 cup orange juice (or apple, or orange pineapple..lots of juices work)
Zest of an orange

Rinse cranberries and pull out nasty ones

In pan, mix juice, sugar and zest with cranberries

I used orange pineapple. Which, also mixes very refreshingly with whipped cream flavored vodka. But in a glass, not in your cranberry sauce..although...hmmm.
Bring to boil.

Yes, all of you wise cooks who saw my pan choice called this mess, didn't you?  Use a bigger pan. Or watch very carefully.

Like I said, carefully bring to boil

mmm, burnt sugar. Nothing quite like the smell of burnt sugar

What you are waiting for, most of the cranberries will pop open, this takes less than 5 minutes.

That's all. As it cools the pectin from the cranberries will help set the sauce. Not set enough to cut, but come on, that stuff is nasty.

If you do make a burned mess, wait until the burner cools, and put a wet towel over it to softnen the mess..for about 5 times as long as it took to cook the cranberry sauce. No lie. Even then it was burned on hard! I had to resort to a razor to get the last bits up. I don't recommend this. BIGGER pot.

Yup, I'm Still Allergic to Home Parties

*Yesterday Brian asked me," Did you write a sweet column about me in honor of our 20th wedding anniversary?"  No, I did not. Today is that anniversary date. And this is the column that ran in the KC Star this morning:
 

“Does anyone NOT have one of our bean pots?”

I raised my hand. Why would I have one? I hadn’t been to that type of home party before. Actually, I hadn’t been to any type of home party since the Tupperware Incident of ’94.

That night, 17 years ago, I got a little out of control. Color coordinated storage containers! A large cake carrier! A chip and dip tray! More cool items we didn’t need!  The buyer’ s remorse was so cringe inducing that I instituted a Personal Home Party Ban which has served me, and our bank account, well ever since.

“Would you like to come to my candle/cookware/jewelry/home décor/whatever-I’m-peddling- this- week party? It’ll be fun! Snacks! Drinks!”

“I’m so sorry!” I would graciously reply,” Thank you for asking me, but I have a personal ban on home parties since the Tupperware Incident of ’94.”

Sometimes I would add a shudder for dramatic effect.

And, I must say, it worked like a charm every time! Of course there was a rebuttal: ”Oh, you don’t have to buy anything, think of it like a Girl’s Night Out!”

I’m not sure who they thought they were kidding, but of course I would have to buy something!  If it was just about chick chatter, snacks and drinks, they would have thrown a regular ol’ party. They want to sell stuff, with an eye on some hostess gifts. I’m ok with that, just own it. I still never went.

Enter my Mother-in-law. I cannot say, “no” to this woman. She is too kind and doesn’t (usually) say, “no” to me. Boring story short: I lifted my ban to go to a home party hosted by one of my Mother-in-law’s sweet friends, another woman I   can’t say, “no” to.

(Note to self: Learn to say, “no”.)

I admire the entrepreneurial spirit of the home party consultant. It is a terrific career for people who want to work from home, believe in their product line and can talk in front of others. The company of the party I attended boasts sales in excess of 100 million dollars. Big business. If this is your line of work-fantastic!  When you do your thing and combine socializing with shopping, I know that there are a lot of people who will happily drive your profits up by multitasking with you.

I was just not one of them.

Until I found myself in a room full of women; a large display of home décor items artfully arranged by the fireplace, snacks and wine a’plenty. Did I make a mistake all those years? This was fun!  I settled into the sofa… and eyed what was possibly the largest cat in existence.

It’s not that I don’t like cats…ok, I don’t like cats. But it’s not because I am an animal hater- I’m allergic to them. Even a cat in a spotless home like the one I was in.

Unfortunately the consultant had begun her presentation, and it would have been rude to get up and leave. I sat through it- coveting the bean pot, sneezing and searching for tissues- lots of tissues.

And what did my husband say when I dragged my drippy self home?

 “I should have warned you about the cat.”

Ya think?!

But it’s a waste of time if I didn’t learn anything.

What I learned at the home party:

*Always ask if people have a cat. Cat dander is bad.

*The bean pot can cook a cake in 13 minutes. Cake is good.

*Reinstate the ban. Sometimes bans are very, very good.

The Gummi Bear Adventure: Nommi Bears!

So, I struck up a correspondence on social media recently.Ok, I do that a lot...but this one in particular introduced me to something new. Well, new to me, anyway.

This person mentioned soaking gummi bears in vodka.

I like vodka.

I like gummi bears.

She didn't know the details, just said that a lot of college kids were doing it...sigh..yes, I KNOW! Wrong on so many levels...but I figured what the heck. I was meeting strangers on the internet, who knows what a crazy road was on!

Whipped Cream flavored vodka, and Brach's Gummi bears, in a jar. How hard can it be?

Just for giggles I googled myself over to this blog: Mix That Drink after I did this:

And since it had to sit in the fridge, and my kids have candy radar and were already asking for what was left in the bag, I added this:

Very proud of my DIY skilz, I then READ the directions that said to not put it in plastic. oops. Quick swap of jars:

And waaaaay into the back of the fridge it went. For 5 days, although I snibbled on Day 3 and was very pleased.

On Day 5 I had a nasty stomach virus, so the poor gummis had to hang out for a few more days. Until today!

They plumped up quite a bit, although not as fat as I would have imagined. It looks like there is more liquid in the jar than there is, maybe a tablespoon was left.

Almost too cute to eat.

Almost.

They are a little slimey (but still have some chewy) to them so I used a tiny, silver spoon (you know, to class up the fact that I was eating vodka soaked kid candy in the middle of the day).

Very nom nom nommie!

And now it's just getting messy

Last night, on Day 9, I hit the 30K mark on my NaNo (out of 50K for a win). I still love my story, love my characters, love my plot and am about to dive into the second half of the novel- although I am well past the halfway point of NaNo.

It occurred to me that I neglected to tell my family that I wanted to get to THE END this month...not just THE END OF NaNoWriMo. They are thinking,"Cool! She's almost there! We get her back!"

But I'm thinking,"I wonder how I'm going to get to THE END this month without my family staging an intervention and hiding the battery to my laptop."

But no time for that now--I have real work to do....and more work on my NaNo. But to show you how messy my physical life is getting ( all that family drama is gonna be messy, too)..

I present:

30K- A Photo Ess-ay

Little fresher than at 15K, not much...but I smell better.

"Mommy can I have a lollipop?" "Uh yeah, whatever." Lollipop...at 8 AM. *sigh*
I think the kids are finding ways to cope.

Yes, it's a little dusty.

OK! I get it! It's a LOT dusty.

This is a passive aggressive hint that I should take the trash out.  I'm going to leave it there as a hint that I'm not the only one capable of taking the trash out.

Under ordinary circumstances, these get put in dishwasher right after breakfast. Under NaNo circumstances, they sit there until I'm making dinner then I multi-task.

Uh. WHAT? The grocery fairy isn't coming today?? I see a dinner in there..um, keilbasa and pickle stirfy? Pickles are vegetables, right?

It's getting ugly..

..but I'm still smiling. I JUST hit 15,000 words...and have many more bubbling inside. I think my family may park me at the curb on trash day if I don't take a shower today. I didn't quite get around to it yesterday. I THINK I did the day before.

The reality of doing NaNoWriMo isn't quite as pretty as it sounds.

Dream BIG, Baby!

*This is a reprint of one of my columns that ran in the Kansas City Star in October. Due to a technical issue, it was never posted online. I am reprinting it here because it tells you were I am in November. And maybe it encourages you to follow your dreams.*

The Value of Turning a Someday Into a Now

“Dream big!”

“Don’t stop! Reach for your goal!”

We want nothing but the best for our children, right? We support and encourage them in their interests. Helping our kids reach for their dreams is one of the things parents do.

What about our dreams? I’m not talking about something that might put more money in our pockets- not a work related Go For The Gold-but a personal goal.  Something that validates our existence in some non-parental way.  Something that says, “I worked my butt off, and the prize is not of monetary value, but it confirms that I turned a Someday into a Now.”

Maybe it’s going back to college and getting a degree for the sole satisfaction of completion, or learning purely for the joy of learning.

Maybe it’s rebuilding a car that reminds you of your childhood.

Maybe it’s running a marathon.

I have a friend named Julie, who is the mom of two young children. A few years ago, she decided that she liked running. She dreamed big and completed the Chicago Marathon.

What was her most rewarding part of this seemingly individual challenge?  It had to do with her kids. She said it was seeing, “the awe and admiration on their little faces when they finally understood what I was up to.”

When I was a kid, I remember my dad saying that he was going to build a dinghy to tow behind his sailboat. I was really impressed that he was going to BUILD a boat! Himself! In our garage! And he did!

Later, I remember having to cut that dinghy loose in a storm and watch it sink. It was as heartbreaking as it sounds. But what did Dad do? He built another one! (Well, he bought one first, THEN built another one- boat building takes some time.)

Making those beautiful little boats was a personal challenge for my dad. But watching them be built? Watching Dad start his dream all over again? Those are memories I cherish.

Just like Julie’s kids will be able to cherish the memory of Mom running and completing- with a better time- her second Chicago Marathon.

Because sometimes things that we do for ourselves that challenge and reward us, we want to do again.

My thing is NaNoWriMo- National Novel Writing Month. 

What is NaNoWriMo?  Within the 30 days of November, the goal is to write a 50,000 word novel. It’s not about quality as much as it is about finishing.  It’s not about writing a novel that gets published, although some have. It’s about pushing yourself to see if you can write one. 

Last year, 200,500 people from around the globe officially participated in NaNoWriMo. Of those participants, only 37,500 got to the finish line. The boat launch. The graduation day.

I was one of them.

Alright, maybe that doesn’t make sense to you. I can’t even run a mile without my lungs exploding so I can’t understand the appeal of running 26.2 of them. But, like a marathon runner, it’s about attempting, pushing through the pain and self- doubt to completion.

And in a few weeks, I will be attempting it again.  I know that my kids are watching, at least one with those eyes of awe and admiration. How do I know?

NaNoWriMo has a Young Writers Program. The goals are less in number, but equal in challenge.

Last year my teen daughter learned that winning NaNoWriMo is completing NaNoWriMo.

And she won.

This year I will look at her with mirrored awe and admiration as we sit down, crack our knuckles and do it again.

Dream big, Baby, dream big.

This is my NaNoWriMo profile picture..it reminds me of two of the characters in the story I'm writing this year.

If you are participating in NaNoWriMo '11, buddy me up! My screen name is EssephVee.

It Really Does

Just in case you ever wondered...

Size matters

Dear Susan...

Dear Susan,

Good morning. It's nice to see that you are comfortable and confident enough to drive the kids to school while still wearing your jammies.

Yes, the flamingos on them are very cute.

Yes, you do rock them.

Yes, like no Othah Muthah.

However..just because you know all the words LMFAO's  Sexy and I Know It....and just because you have some bitchin' drivers seat dance moves does not mean you should combine them in the drop off lane, and at every red light you encounter.

Regards,

Your Dignity

Secret Language Of Boys

I sipped the warm, creamy brown beverage of the gods, and the coffee did it's job. Head clearing. Vision focused....(I do NOT have a caffeine problem, shut up!)

I was saying....As my coffee helped me ease into the day I surveyed the house. Dishes filled the sink, dishwasher waiting to be emptied; backpacks and coats and various mystery items identified the debris field of Friday's Apres School Couch Crash. Dust had settled over every surface matting the shine. I never did get around to cleaning the bathrooms yesterday, and there were several loads of laundry in various stages of completion.

The place was a mess.

Someone was going to have to clean this.

Then the boys skidded into my view.

"Mom! Can we  go to McDonalds for breakfast!?"

"Can we make smoothies later?"

I smiled the smile of a mom who just realized that the path to obedience is lined with food and a minivan. My eyebrow went up as I realized a way to seal the deal.

"Sure. I'll take you, but when we get back you have to help me get this house clean."

"Will you make a chore chart so we can X out stuff?"

"Yeah! Tape it on the wall!"

Where did these kids come from? I looked in my coffee mug and took a sniff...just coffee.

"Sure."

20 minutes, 4 breakfast burritos and three hashbrowns later, we were taping the chore chart to the wall, and assigning tasks.

I like to think that I am not much of a cusser. I like to think that cussing isn't necessary. But I know that sometimes, it adds just enough ooomph to drive a point home. THIS was one of those times.

"Boys! Let's make this house our bitch!"

Three knuckle punches and we were off!

Two hours later, my house was really clean.

Thirty minutes after that we were making pineapple smoothies.

And and  hour after *that* I had to tell Noah to stop saying," Mario. Luigi. Prepare to become my bitch!"

His language might be dirty, but my floors are clean!

My Drunk Barbershop Kitchen

Ever watch My Drunk Kitchen? If you never have,here is the latest episode based on her recent trip to Toronto.

Newbies be advised: watch only one at a time. I did a marathon my first time and was ready to send her to rehab after about episode 4. Now, pacing myself, I can really appreciate the host- Hannah Hart- a lot more. Funny, clever, self assured-- Ok, in my head she is faking having had too much of whatever she is sipping...but they are cute videos and I say- without shame- that I laugh.

Are these the best to watch before, say, bible study?

Noooo, prob'ly.

Are they the best to watch if you have chemical addiction issues or are a part of a family that has been torn apart over them?

I'm gonna say no.

The other day, I was enjoying a warm Indian Summer evening. Once in a while, when it is toasty like that, I enjoy a glass of some somethin'. That night it was sangria. I had a bottle in my fridge and wanted to finish it up before the cold weather comes and it sits there all winter because who wants sangria when it's snowy out?

Not me.

I was a couple of glasses in, when my husband suggested that I cut his, and the boy's, hair.

I am no where near as cute as Hannah Hart, but this is my best impersonation. I was even cooking!

This may very well be the worst picture ever taken of me..but  after what I did to those boys, I deserve it to be on  the internet.

Should I have been driving the clippers? Well, I would have passed a breathalyzer test, so sure.

Was my judgement a little off?

Sure, again.

Did I take risks with the 'dos?

Oh, yes I did.

It's feeling just a little Hitleresque, non?

Noah wanted me to buzz his surfer/Bieber hair. I gave him a #4 on the sides and scissors on the top. And forgot about his extreme cowlick. Fortunately, he he adores the use of hair products.

He loves it. Ha. There. It's all that matters. Right? Right? *sigh*

Luke fared the best, he wanted a #3 all over and that's pretty much what he got.

Brian? Uh, he has some follicle issues so his took the longest. Plus he kept micromanaging me and I was starting to get pissed off and MAY have hacked one side just a little too low to the scalp.

Brian doesn't like me to put his picture on here, but -essentially-this is what he looks like.

Since sangria is made of fruit juice, and I always add ice and a splash of 7Up, I wasn't technically drunk. I don't let myself go there any more. But I was a little tipsy---so really, it was more like my Buzzed Barbershop Kitchen.

In more ways than one.

I have RULES! New Rules!

I had a rule for my social media interaction from the moment I opened my first facebook page: Only people I knew online or in person. And I kept my rule with my first facebook page.

Which I had to take down, or rather, facebook had to take down because, I broke their rules. (Honest, it was a misunderstanding, I wasn't spamming, I was fundraising.)

So-- I made a new page with a new name and new rules. I also got busy with the security buttons. I would only friend  people who knew me, and could find me.

And then I decided I wanted to network on facebook.

So I morphed my rules: if they could find me, or if I was ballsy enough to send them a friend request and they accepted, they were in.

This worked well for awhile, until facebook rolled out not only the new changes of a couple of weeks ago, but the changes for the future. I wanted to play, but I wanted to only play with a certain kind of people.

So I pruned my friends list. I used the Coffee Shop System: If I walked into a coffee shop and saw them, would I a)recognize them b)pretend I didn't see them, c)or walk up and say hi.

If the answer to A as No, I pruned them. If the answer to B  was Yes, cut.  A C Yes and they stayed. (And then I pruned some kids who I had been censoring my language for and a few people that I got tired of  reading statuses that alternated between whining about their life and making others feel bad for whining about their's.)

When the new changes roll again, I think I will cut again using the Fart Method: If I tooted loudly in front of them, would they pretend they didn't hear it or laugh at me. The pretenders go. Come on, when an adult lets one loose among friends, it's funny!

It doesn't mean that I don't like the people that I cut from my list, some of them were hard to X out. It's totally not them, it's me. I just want to know that I will feel comfortable sharing my music and movie choices with them and know that it won't change the way that they think about me.

Meanwhile, I have a g+ and twitter account. I don't plan on sharing my love of  bad '80's Romantic Comedies, and brags about my kids with people on there.

I only have a one rule on g+: Circle up anyone who I damn well feel like. (Two caveats: If I  have to click "Would you like google to translate this page?"  or are men with circles only full of women-- I'm not circling back.)

But basically, I'm a Circle Ho.
Ditto Twitter.
Find me.

Perspective

Calender flipped to October! 2012 Calender in basket,waiting to be filled.

"Yay!" Bekah said as she flipped the calendar to the next page,"I love this! I've been waiting!"

I wasn't even at my first sip of coffee yet, so I didn't get it.

"Why?"

"Because these are my favorite three months! First, October is full of fun Halloween stuff, and then Thanksgiving is in November, and then-yippee!- it's Christmastime! All three months are fun, they are my favorites all year!"

Her joy was juxtaposed with the clutching of stress in my belly.

Halloween? I still have summer decor outside! I'm not ready for pumpkins and costumes and creepy looking treats!

Thanksgiving?! All that work to get that meal on the table! Planning, and shopping, and cleaning and chopping, and cooking....and  more cleaning.

Christmas!?! CHRISTMAS? That's the biggie! All that shopping and planning and wrapping and...

I took a sip of coffee to calm myself. These next three months are going to be busy, and full and...

I looked at my daughter prancing out of the room, excited for the fun and suprises that the next three months will bring. That's when it hit me... she has that image of these months because I have made the activities of them special for her and her brothers. All the planning and work--sure, it puts a pumpkin on our stoop, a beautiful dinner on the table, and a sparkly season celebrating the birth of our Saviour--it also make memories.

All that effort on my part makes the childhood memories of my children.

Worth it.

But I am going to need A LOT more coffee.

Those things that make us want to snap someone

My friend Kristin just asked, in that smartassy way that only friends can get away with, if I was caught up on my counter lists.

It took me a second to realize what she was talking about.

No, Kristin, I am not.

 (Kristin is totally one of those friends who can get away with smartassy with me, but she is waaaaay sweeter than I am. She is also a new blogger. Check her out here Here )

I have yet to go through all the medicines and look at expiration dates. And go through the kids winter coats to check sizes. These are just TWO of the notes I was given the other morning. Check this out:

TEN notes. (There is one on top of the upper-est note). Trees are crying.

Can I just say, he is all about saving plastic and filling those white trash bags up to the tippy top but not so ecologically sound when it comes to paper. We do have a trash CAN under the sink, but the white plastic bags never get full enough for him in there, so they sit. In my kitchen. For me to look at. Until they are full. Or I get pissed off and take them to the garage.

Yeah.

So.

No, not done. And I haven't cleaned the bathrooms yet either.

But I did take this picture.

Snap!

Always a silver lining...

This kid has a LOUD mouth.  Most kids do. The trick, of course, is to teach them when to use it properly at the highest volume and when to keep it shut. Or whisper. I would even be happy with a sustained inside voice.

This kid also has a very colorful vocabulary. I mean that exactly like you think. I don't know where he gets it from. *blink blink*

He does usually use the words correctly, and often in a creative string which is one of those uniquely  parental Cringe/Pride moments.

When he is outside, like at a football game, loud is encouraged. Creative is also encouraged, but not cussing. He seems to be aware that there is never a time at school to use the most raunchy of his language, so shouting ways that the players can knock the poo out of one another is about as foul as he gets.

But at home, that is a different story.

Yesterday, I told him to stop playing video games and do his homework.

This was not his favorite idea.

I walked away, he continued to play. Then Bekah told him the same thing.

This was not his favorite method of instruction.

He opened up that loud, big, effective mouth and shouted,"(The worst thing a six year old can probably say)!!! You are NOT the boss of me!!!"

He tossed the controller on the couch and launched himself toward the perceived safety of his room.

As I took off chasing him, I noticed- through the open windows- two men holding clip boards and dressed nicely in black golf shirts and khaki pants. In unison they executed a perfectly coordinated about face in our driveway.

"I don't care that you just saved us from door-to-door salesmen, You are so grounded from wii!!"

WOOT! Party!

I swiped this from someone who swiped it from Martha Stewart. Wanna piece?

A month ago I wondered what the life of a serious blogger was like. What would it feel like to have to come up with something remotely interesting once a day, write it and hit POST?  Would my posts get better? Would my writing get better? Would more people read it?

 I also needed to kick myself in the ass to write every day.

So I took my little blog here and posted. Every day. 

Was it hard? Yes and no.

Yes, some days it was hard to come up with something to say (sorry about those) and some days I had more than one idea so I wrote a couple and set them to post another day. After the first week, my brain must have gone into Serious Blogger Mode because I was thinking,"oh, I could write about this!" and " lemme get my camera!" around every corner. 

And around every other corner was a family member who learned to shy away from my camera and scream," Don't blog about this!"

I think my goal to make my posts more brief was also achieved. I became a more ruthless editor. I know it's kinda telling, but I get giddy when I start slashing. It's a bloodbath of words and I am the victor.

I did gain a couple new followers and got a lot more traffic, which is fantastic. Welcome! Thank you for clicking the FOLLOW box. 

 (That is crack to me, btw. Crazy high.)

For all of you who wrote comments, or sent me emails or notes on facebook about this month of blogs, THANK YOU!!! I toast you because your thoughts mean a lot to me.

For all who read, maybe thought it was only ok, but came back another day to give me another shot--thank you!

I learned a lot this month. It was a very worthwhile and rewarding project and I will be posting more often- but not everyday. I can't. I need to work towards another goal--I have to finish cleaning up my NaNoWriMo project from LAST November so that I can do it again THIS November. You should join me. 50,000 words in 30 days! Find me on there, my username is EssephVee (which is also my twitter name, if you are interested). We can bitch and moan through it together! It'll be fun!

Swapping my coffee out for some bubbly! Cheers!

On my first day this month I toasted you with coffee, today I'm switching to--ok, it's 7-Up..but there are bubbles! ( And I learned to take my glasses off but still, no makeup).

Thank you for joining me on this journey, and thank you for reading!

"Hey, Mom, leave the bottle."

One more day

Thirty days ago I vowed to post every single day for a full month. And I did. Didn't miss one single day. And I'm not going to either. But here is the thing. I had big plans for this last day.

That is, big plans until yesterday when my son, in his very first ever full football game in a uniform, played sorta like a rockstar in football pads. This enthusiasm earned him a special honor that is bestowed on two boys a week. His 7th grade self gets to hang with the high school team at their weekly game. And I'm gonna take him because, you know, I dig football. And driving an hour and a half to watch it.

Yeah. Ok, I love my  kid.

But I have to leave early, and the rest of my day got filled with all kinds of fun.  Real and sarcastic. Beckett and I will be recording (real fun)--and I have to clean the bathrooms ( sarcastic fun). And do some other boring houswifey stuff.

But I still have BIG plans for my last post day, so hang tight and I'll post on Saturday, too.

Thanks!!

Some things I understand, and some I just don't

This morning was brisk. Upper 40's. It was in the pre-coffee hours when I got dressed, so I reached for the fall uniform: jeans, short sleeve shirt and cardigan.

The woman who reaches for a cardigan is different than the woman who reaches for a hoodie. We are probably a little more traditional in our dress, maybe have an eye for some vintage. We like the coziness that a cardigan implies, vs the " I am going to sweat!" of a hoodie.

I understand the cardigan and the hoodie choices.

When I reached for my cardigan, I realized that I had several options, but in those pre awake hours I went not for color, but for my staple: black.

Slimming, trendy...black clothing says," I may have an eye for fashion...or I might just be a lazy dresser but you will never know." My black cardigan says," mysterious convention. " 

I understand the choice of black clothing.

As I reached for the cardigan, I realized that there were several options in this color. Five. I have five black cardigans. (I may have more, you have seen my closet).

They each can be dressed up or down, go with a skirt or jeans...to church or to a football game. (Ok, maybe Old Faithful can't go to church anymore--I've had her since the mid '80's and she is tired.) I understand each of these sweater options:

  

The collection (or what I can find of it)

And, like the good mysteriously conventional fashion diva that I am (that's a joke, you can laugh) I have the complimentary collection of black shoes. Each different and for different types of activities, but can be dressed up and down like the best wardrobe elements. 

I totally understand black shoes.

If you are like me, you look at that sampling and think," of course, all very different shoes." You probably even have a collection that is somewhat similar.  You see a use for all of them, and might even have more of your own and think me somewhat a minimalist. You understand me, and I you.

So if you are like me you can probably not answer why my spouse has this collection of his own. A collection of black clothing items that I just can't understand: 

Three pairs of identical slippers. Why?

Best Laid Plans

So I had this funny idea for a blog post. A pictorial essay of all the things my family needs to learn to do.

Like flushing the toilet.

Or changing the toilet paper roll.

Or rinsing toothpaste spit down out of the sink.

Or stuff in another room besides the bathroom! Lots of stuff! Funny stuff!

But I can't find my camera.

Or my mp3 player.

Some sort of small electronics misplacing is going on around here. And, now that I think about it they were   are both pink, small electronics. Hmmmm. The MP3 player meant I had to listen to my daily podcast quota online. I listened to a new one...Tales of Old. It's historically based short story fiction. Or historically based fiction, short stories...I'm not so sure on the wording of that. Anyway, I like what I have heard. So I'm pimping it here.  Word.

And I am sooooo close to my month of blogging big FINALE. (Ok, not that big-- no swag or anything. Maybe some confetti. Not sure..) ANYWAY...I didn't want to miss a day especially because I can't find my girly electronics!

SO, for your viewing pleasure....this is what happens when Luke gets his hands on my camera. And this is what happens when Luke uses my camera and I find the pictures. Enjoy.

Dang it...where did I put those electronics!??