Do you know what today is? It's November 30. Why is that date special? Because, unbeknown to you, I am completing a blog challenge: National Blog Posting Month. Basically, you create a blog post every day for a month. And I did it! Wa-hoo!
I didn't announce it ahead of time that I was doing it because I didn't want to look like a fool if I wasn't able to keep up. And I wasn't sure that I could -- it's been a hella busy month at work and at home, plus I'm still wiped from the twinlets and sleepy from lack of sleep (thank you, bladder). And, for some reason, though I did submit my blog link, it never appeared in the blogroll. Grrr...
So, here I am... at the end of a month with 30 blog entries. I have to admit that they have really blurred together. I'm not sure that I could keep up with a daily entry for months on end. I don't know that I have all THAT much to say, and we all know that blogs with nothing to say are bad reads. Since I don't do reviews or give-aways, all I have is the writing and if it is too diluted or boring, I don't even have that. OK, I have cute kid pictures sometimes, too.
Anyway, I'm pooped. And I might not blog tomorrow -- we'll see...
Hey, here's an idea: if anyone out there who happens to read this wants to ask me a question, go for it! I promise to answer with more than one word, unless you ask me something like "do you like dark chocolate or milk chocolate better"? Answer: dark. I can't really answer that with more than one word. OK, I could say dark chocolate and it would be two words, but you get the picture, right?
If this works, great! If it doesn't, meh...
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Monday, November 29, 2010
I Wanna Be a Rock Star
I'm in a feisty mood today. Not sure why, but I wanna be a tough girl, a bad girl, a rock star or something. I don't wanna be the pudgy mama(again)-to-be that I am. I want to have spiky pink hair and wear fishnets and have a totally hot bod. I wanna pierce my belly button and wear shirts that reveal a gorgeous, flat abdomen with shorts so short you're not quite sure if they are underwear or not.
Bwah-hahahaha...
No, I don't. Well, maybe the hair.
But I came to the complete realization this weekend that my body will never, ever not be the body of a mom. Even if I lose all the weight I dream of losing, the resulting excess skin will make it impossible for me to think about piercing my navel or tattooing my hip. My stretchmarks already show a road map of pregnancies past -- and this is without the upcoming gigundous belly I'll have as I get closer to term with the twins.
Don't get me wrong -- it's completely worth ruining my physique to have my kids. But that doesn't mean that I can't feel a little sad about losing the rest of my body, does it?
Maybe it's the prospect of spending the entire winter in maternity clothes, including a coat that is currently so large on me that I look like I'm wearing my grandfather's pea coat. Yeah, I'll likely need all that room and then some for my belly, but the shoulders are wide enough that I could hide Violet in there with me and no one would be any wiser.
I'm pretty sure that everyone I know is gonna get tired of my maternity wardrobe: three pairs of pants, one pair of jeans, and about 8 shirts. Oh, well -- at least I do cute hair, right? Nope -- my current state of affhair is not quite curly, not quite straight and mostly messy with lots of fly-aways due to the lack of moisture in the air. It's not quite Carrot Top, but also not Rita Hayworth anymore.
My once easy skin has been a disaster this pregnancy. Normally it is smooth, glowing and porcelain white during pregnancy. But not this time. Who knows where the next zit is hiding... My chin has gotten the worst of it and I've given up trying to use concealer. Courtenay, the red-chinned mama... had a very shiny chin...
So what DO I have going for me? My body likes carrying babies. Milo and Violet were happy, comfy, snug and healthy. I can only hope the same for the twins. I grow nice big babies -- Milo was 8lbs 1.5 oz and Violet was 8lbs 9.5 oz. And, aside from struggling like a turtle if I accidentally end up on my back, I get around pretty well for a fat pregnant lady. These are all great things, indeed.
But I wouldn't mind being able to wear a killer black dress and fishnets after it's all said and done...
Bwah-hahahaha...
No, I don't. Well, maybe the hair.
But I came to the complete realization this weekend that my body will never, ever not be the body of a mom. Even if I lose all the weight I dream of losing, the resulting excess skin will make it impossible for me to think about piercing my navel or tattooing my hip. My stretchmarks already show a road map of pregnancies past -- and this is without the upcoming gigundous belly I'll have as I get closer to term with the twins.
Don't get me wrong -- it's completely worth ruining my physique to have my kids. But that doesn't mean that I can't feel a little sad about losing the rest of my body, does it?
Maybe it's the prospect of spending the entire winter in maternity clothes, including a coat that is currently so large on me that I look like I'm wearing my grandfather's pea coat. Yeah, I'll likely need all that room and then some for my belly, but the shoulders are wide enough that I could hide Violet in there with me and no one would be any wiser.
I'm pretty sure that everyone I know is gonna get tired of my maternity wardrobe: three pairs of pants, one pair of jeans, and about 8 shirts. Oh, well -- at least I do cute hair, right? Nope -- my current state of affhair is not quite curly, not quite straight and mostly messy with lots of fly-aways due to the lack of moisture in the air. It's not quite Carrot Top, but also not Rita Hayworth anymore.
My once easy skin has been a disaster this pregnancy. Normally it is smooth, glowing and porcelain white during pregnancy. But not this time. Who knows where the next zit is hiding... My chin has gotten the worst of it and I've given up trying to use concealer. Courtenay, the red-chinned mama... had a very shiny chin...
So what DO I have going for me? My body likes carrying babies. Milo and Violet were happy, comfy, snug and healthy. I can only hope the same for the twins. I grow nice big babies -- Milo was 8lbs 1.5 oz and Violet was 8lbs 9.5 oz. And, aside from struggling like a turtle if I accidentally end up on my back, I get around pretty well for a fat pregnant lady. These are all great things, indeed.
But I wouldn't mind being able to wear a killer black dress and fishnets after it's all said and done...
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Idiosynchrasies
So, I can admit to my many crazy issues -- well, most of them aren't really crazy or really OCD, but some are a little strange. Why am I writing this today? Because I feel that the other creatures inhabiting my house are trying to sabotage my sanity my messing with my head in little ways.
Like yanking the sheets and blankets in such a way that they don't all line up, folded neatly under my chin with the flat sheet holding the fold together like a sandwich. So every night I straighten my bed, getting it all smooth and ready for sleep and every morning I wake and it is a tossed salad instead of a sandwich.
But, more importantly, is the closets. Although, given my housekeeping skills, you might doubt it, but I like an organized closet. Really, I do! I like all of the short sleeved shirts together, the long sleeved shirts together, the sweaters, the pants, the skirts and the dresses all separated so that it's really easy to tell what I'm looking at when I select my wardrobe for the day. Or the kids' clothes for the day.
I know it is impolitic to complain about someone helping you with housework, but I'm gonna do it anyway. Love my hubby, can't stand that he can wreck a closet simply by picking out what the kids wear for the day. Oh, I let him have his own closet any way he wants it, though I don't understand how the shirts keep from sliding off the hangers if you don't button at least the top button, but that's his deal, not mine.
Anyway, I have a very simple system in place so that I don't have to scour every closet looking for hangers come laundry day -- I put the empty hanger on the front of the closet pole. Eventually there is a happy little family of empty hangers there and I grab the whole lot of them knowing that I usually have only a couple of extra hangers per closet, so I'll be hanging up roughly the same number of garments as I have free hangers.
However, when helpful daddy grabs clothes for the kids, he leaves the empty hanger in the same spot where it was hanging when full. As a result I need to spend a few precious seconds sifting through the clothes to come up with the right number of hangers for the load I'm about to hang. OK, this isn't really a HUGE deal, but it also isn't really a HUGE deal to move the darn hanger. After all, you have to take the hanger off the pole to get the garment off anyway, right?
So those are two of my goofy idiosyncrasies. What are yours?
Like yanking the sheets and blankets in such a way that they don't all line up, folded neatly under my chin with the flat sheet holding the fold together like a sandwich. So every night I straighten my bed, getting it all smooth and ready for sleep and every morning I wake and it is a tossed salad instead of a sandwich.
But, more importantly, is the closets. Although, given my housekeeping skills, you might doubt it, but I like an organized closet. Really, I do! I like all of the short sleeved shirts together, the long sleeved shirts together, the sweaters, the pants, the skirts and the dresses all separated so that it's really easy to tell what I'm looking at when I select my wardrobe for the day. Or the kids' clothes for the day.
I know it is impolitic to complain about someone helping you with housework, but I'm gonna do it anyway. Love my hubby, can't stand that he can wreck a closet simply by picking out what the kids wear for the day. Oh, I let him have his own closet any way he wants it, though I don't understand how the shirts keep from sliding off the hangers if you don't button at least the top button, but that's his deal, not mine.
Anyway, I have a very simple system in place so that I don't have to scour every closet looking for hangers come laundry day -- I put the empty hanger on the front of the closet pole. Eventually there is a happy little family of empty hangers there and I grab the whole lot of them knowing that I usually have only a couple of extra hangers per closet, so I'll be hanging up roughly the same number of garments as I have free hangers.
However, when helpful daddy grabs clothes for the kids, he leaves the empty hanger in the same spot where it was hanging when full. As a result I need to spend a few precious seconds sifting through the clothes to come up with the right number of hangers for the load I'm about to hang. OK, this isn't really a HUGE deal, but it also isn't really a HUGE deal to move the darn hanger. After all, you have to take the hanger off the pole to get the garment off anyway, right?
So those are two of my goofy idiosyncrasies. What are yours?
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