i didn’t go anywhere today

It was one of those weird days where I had nowhere to go and nothing to do. I had a load of laundry to wash and dry, but my house is pretty neat and tidy and I really didn’t have anything pressing. No errands to run. Nothing of import that HAD to get done today.

It should have been nice… relaxing… but it was a little disconcerting.

I’ve been having a lot of success in keeping a tidy home. Before, it was pretty cluttered. I didn’t have any organization or any real idea of how to keep it clean. I finally figured it out, and for the past month, I’ve been keeping it up. Yes, there are things that need doing, but there are mitigating factors (read: I need my husband’s aid and thus far he has been unavailable to aid me) before I can get to the next phase of Operation Clean House. I look forward to the next part, because then I really WILL be where I want to be, and all I’ll have to do is upkeep.

And that, friends, is very, very odd to me.

It has never happened where I’ve looked around my home and couldn’t immediately see something that could be done, should be done, has to be done, now now now. It’s all just upkeep right now. No muss, no fuss. And furthermore, there was no guilt.

I didn’t feel overwhelmed by the mess, because there ISN’T any mess.

I didn’t feel depressed about the state of my house because my house is looking pretty decent.

I didn’t feel anxious over the clutter because the clutter has been eliminated.

And that, people, is a good day!

monday, it comes but once a week

Ever have those moments when your normal, rational self disappears and this screaming meemy maniac makes an appearance? Yeah? Well, that NEVER happens to me. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not ever.

Now, if it DID, and were I to become a screaming meemy maniac, it most certainly wouldn’t happen while I’m on the toilet, doing toilet-type things (read: unable to immediately get up) and outside, in the hallway, my children are being such little heathens that the walls are shaking and things on my dresser are toppling over. One kid told the other kid to go into the hallway and then shut the door on them. Kid One decides to go back in, but Kid Two leans against the door to prevent that. So Kid One proceeds to try and beat the door down, with much enthusiasm and probably a battering ram, and all the while, I’m yelling (from my seat) to KNOCK IT OFF and WHAT ARE YOU DOING and finally, screaming, KID ONE!!!! STOP IT NOW!!!! and all the while, my husband is in the living room, watching a show, and apparently can’t hear the commotion just down the hall because the louder they get, the higher he turns up the volume… (which, I have to say, is not the norm for this guy… usually he’s all over their infractions like white on rice- I think that he was just really into his show).

Of course, this is all hypothetical and supposition. Because I am the epitome of poise and calm, feathers never ruffled and every hair in place, all rational and…. you’re not buying this, are you. Yeah. Didn’t think so.

Well… at least it’s not Monday tomorrow. I think Monday makes everyone around here a little wacky-bo-bo.

Later, doods :)

what’s what

I’ve been busy. I know I just started this bloggy blog and that if I want to attract readers and keep them, I have to write consistently. That being said, sometimes life gets in the way of even the best of intentions. And then sometimes you (general you) start your period a little over a week early and hormones get the best of you and then you just really don’t want to do anything, least of all blog about your life, but I’m only speaking hypothetically here. As per usual.

So my son turned 10. Weird to think that ten years ago yesterday, Turkey Lips entered the world in a rush of blood, not breathing, and very purple and all I could think about was how high up in the building I was. I think I’d lost a little too much blood, honestly, because I only held him for a few minutes before they took him from me and put him under the warming lights; he was much, much too cold, they said, and I remember nodding like I knew what that meant and wondering if the baby had been born yet.

Yeah, it was a little confusing for me.

I was thrilled to have him, though, and I fell in absolute and complete love with his little self a few hours later when both he and I had recovered enough to be properly introduced. That first nite, I held him against me for hours, listening to him breathe. He used to make this little mewling, snoring sound when he slept. And he loooooooved to be cuddled, loved it more than anything. He was so snuggly, unlike my first two babies, his older sisters, who enjoyed being snuggled but didn’t loooooooooove it the way he did. He loved it so much that the first four months I wasn’t allowed to put him down without him really telling me, loudly, all about it. After four months, he was a little more patient with me when I had to do things like pee, or use both hands to make something for his sisters to eat, or even, rarely, shower. But I only got a few minutes before he begin to protest not being cuddled, again, loudly.

He all too quickly turned into a toddler, and he was about one of the sweetest little guys ever. That didn’t mean that he didn’t think it was most awesome to get into everything (and I mean, EVERYTHING) as soon as he became upright. And it only got worse when he figured out how to operate high-tech things like the toilet handle, and doorknobs, and pushing things over to stand on them so as to better climb over the baby gates. Yeah, that was some good times, that was!

However, he was so unbelievable adorable, with those big blue eyes and those round chubby baby boy cheeks that were invented, I swear, to melt my heart and save him from impending doom from his destructive days of toddler-hood. He had the sweetest little smile, with those baby teeth, like little pearls… oh! Straight to the heart, I tell ya!

As he got older, he discovered cars, and soon became consumed with all things Hot Wheels. For a few years, if it had wheels, he wanted it. And because he had those big blue eyes and those cheeks and that smile… yeah, sucker that I am for such things, he usually got it.

As he grew, he still loved being cuddled and smooched and was happy just to be in my vicinity, playing with his sisters or with his cars. He loved, and still does, to help me with chores. He is inquisitive and full of questions and theories and wants to know all about pretty much everything. He still likes to hang out with me, but doesn’t want to be smooched as much anymore, but still likes the cuddling. He compliments my cooking and says thank you for doing housework and appreciates the simple things that come his way. He likes school and his friends and is a fantastic brother to his sisters; one day, he’s going to make a fantastic partner for some very lucky woman.

I love this kid with everything I’ve got, and then some, and the past ten years have been both a blur and a joy, and, sadly, passed by all too soon. He is My Guy, and I count everyday that I get to share with him as a part of it a good one :)

 

 

ramming speed!

Sadly, the name of my current entry is very apt. Today I managed to knock myself a good one on the head whilst talking to my husband and putting some things in the car at the same time. I wasn’t paying attention to where my head was in relation to the car door, and about knocked myself silly because of my lack of observation skills. Did it hurt? Oh, hell yeah it did. Still hurts, from my forehead down into my neck. Good one, right?

Despite that, today was actually a pretty good one. I got to spend the day with that guy I married, always a plus. He had to take the day off because he had a doctor appointment (thumbs up in the health department; all is well) and since his appointment only took about forty minutes, we had pretty much the whole day together. We breakfasted at our favorite place; I got the strawberry French toast, eggs, and bacon (YUM). We weren’t in a hurry so we were able to linger and really enjoy it, and each other. Then we went to the newly opened Khol’s to check it out; I totally love that place. I might just start making the drive to the new one rather than the one that’s geographically convenient to me because it really is that cool. All shiny and new. After that we went to purchase my son’s birthday presents at one of those big stores where such things are purchased :) He’s turning ten in a week and a day (I have very mixed emotions on this; my baby boy is going to be TEN!) and I’m very excited about what we’re getting him. He’s getting this-

And this-

(this is really for me, but don’t tell!!)

And of course, this-

(which is, rumor has it, what I should have been wearing today, apparently)

And last but not least, this-

He’s getting some other things from some other people, but I’m not sure what, exactly.

After all that shopping, we went decided that it was time to upgrade my husband’s phone- he still has the original one he got for free with our original contract. Yeah, it was time to let go and move on. And we wanted to look into getting my thirteen year old daughter a phone, too. She’s a great kid, super responsible, an excellent student (straight A’s this last time around!!) and works hard at whatever she’s asked to do. She’s been asking for a phone for awhile, so we decided to go ahead and add her to our plan. So, today we got her a phone.

I have to say, I didn’t expect to feel the way I did about it. While I knew that she would be thrilled to her toes with it, and was thrilled to my toes to give it to her… I still couldn’t help but get a little teary at how grown-up she’s getting. She was all kid when we gave it to her, and has been playing with it non-stop since we got home, but the main reason that we got it for her was so that we could be in touch with her wherever she was. Which means that yes, I have a daughter who goes places that I don’t, does things that I’m not there to oversee, and while she’s still very limited in where she can go and what she can do… she’s still not a little girl anymore, holding my hand while we tromp across the parking lot; she’s as tall as I am now, with her own sense of self.

*sigh* Who knew that getting her a phone would have such significance? Everyday it seems that I find out something else I didn’t know about being a parent.

Alright, well, that’s pretty much my day, so far. Now I have some stuff to get done before we settle in for dinner (which I have no idea what it’s going to be) and start movie nite (we do this every Friday). Tonite we’re watching Ponyo :)

Later, doods!

i’m like that commercial

It was on a few years ago, and I’ve looked for it via YouTube but no luck- I can’t find it. Anyway, in this commercial, the mom is totally rocking out to her old school music while she’s cleaning, and her ultra-cool goth daughter just stares at her- remember that one? Yeah, that was totally me yesterday. I spent the day rocking out to my nineties music (Pearl Jam, Cher, Billy Idol, B52’s and others) while I cleaned my house. Which is why I didn’t blog all day. I was busy cleaning.

Let me tell you about my house. It’s not dirty, like, DIRTY, but it’s cluttered. There are seven people who live here, and it’s not a large space, and seven people generate a lot of crap stuff. And both my husband and I are avid readers, which translates to me being a book collector, and we easily have a thousand books in this house. Not to mention that my offspring are all aspiring artists, love crafts, toys, and they’re all readers as well, AND they’ve all inherited my “must hang onto this lest I might need it someday in the future” gene… so yeah. We have a lot of crap. Stuff. We have a lot of STUFF.

On top of that, my mom, bless her, was not the best housekeeper herself and frankly, I really didn’t “get” how to keep a tidy house. Clean, yes… but tidy? Yeah, not so much. So I haven’t had the very best example of HOW. Until recently.

I got to spend a week with my best friend Shanna, who lives in Texas, and describes herself as a “lazy perfectionist”. Ok, people, let me be the first to tell you that this woman is NOT in the slightest stretch of the word ,“lazy”. And perfectionist? Not so much. She likes things neat and tidy, abhors clutter, and has found a way to have her house the way she likes it, but she doesn’t smack me as a perfectionist so much as someone who runs her household like a well-oiled machine. In other words, she has a system, and the system actually works. Wanna know what it is?

It’s maintenance, to put it simply. It’s getting rid of stuff, cleaning, and maintaining it. So the initial work is hard- I did my whole kitchen, cleaning and organizing everything, from the fridge to cupboards to the drawers. Since I did it, though, my kitchen has been lovely. It’s clean all the time. And clean up after making meals is a snap. A snap, I tell you!

So after the Great Kitchen Experiment was met with such success, I moved onto the rest of my house. Yesterday I did my living room and dining area. Took me two and a half hours of hard, busting my ass work, but I was moving furniture and all kinds of craziness was happening there. Not to mention that I was gettin’ down while I was gettin’ clean. I mean, we’re talking about full on dancing with my mop and everything. It’s seriously the only time in my life that I’ve cleaned and had a great time doing it.

No, really, I had a really good time cleaning. Maybe that’s the key…? Instead of hating it, I should find ways to do it so that I’m having fun…? Just, you know, don’t tell my kids. Because if they knew that I was having a good time, that would totally kill my “I work so hard because I love you, not because I love cleaning” thing I’m currently milking. I get so mileage out of that, lemme tell ya. So mums the word on that one, m’kay?

Let’s see how the rest of this week goes, see how well I keep it up. Results later!

See ya!

introducing…. me!

In my first blog entry, I didn’t really introduce myself.  I think this was in part due to the fact that I was getting ready to do some serious damage to some delicious ice cream, and also because it was my first blog entry and I was (not) a nervous wreck. So allow me to remedy that little faux pas, and tell just exactly who I am and what I stand for.

Wait.

That might take awhile.

And, we don’t really know each other all that well yet, so I suppose I’ll start easy and give you all the surface details before I get too comfy and share all of the nitty and the gritty. I mean, you don’t just go around telling people upon your first meeting that you sometimes (more than sometimes) have entire conversations with yourself, out loud, when you’re alone, right? Or that you really are a wretched housekeeper and that when company is coming over, you just throw all the crap into your closet and REALLY hope they don’t need to borrow a pair of shoes. No, in polite society, we start small and work our way up.  So here goes-

*For the record, I’m not crazy. Not everyone who talks to themselves is crazy. I prefer terms like “creative”… “innovative”… and “entertaining”.

My name is Jenna. I’m currently 33 years old, although that is subject to change. I’m married to this guy, and have been for 6-going-on-7 years. I have four children, and two bonus sons, and they range in ages from 21 to 8. Now here’s the tricky part; do I use their actual real names, or do I make up some names? In this day and age, you can never be too careful, I think, but then again… what are the odds of someone intent on doing harm ACTUALLY finding me and ACTUALLY doing harm because I used the real names of my children? I’m not sure where I stand on this right now, I’m open to suggestions, what’s your opinion? Real names, or fake names? Until then, I just won’t call them anything. I’ll just pretend I don’t have a spouse and children, and that I’m a free-swingin’ single, with no cares or worries except myself. Except for the swinging part, because I hear you have part of a duo for that to actually work. Although, looking around me now, if I were really single, why the hell do I have so much crap, and who is that 21 year old crashed out on my couch?

And where the hell did all these stretch marks come from?

Now that I have made myself a proper introduction, I hope that clears up any confusion as to who I am. I know it did for me!

Thank you and good day.

a serious matter, this is

The first blog post on a new blog. It has to strike the right tone, carry the right nuances, draw the new reader in and interest them enough to make them want to keep reading. It also speaks for what kind of writer you are, what you’re interested in, what your blog might portray. Is this a blogger who writes about current events? A historian? A traveler? Another mommy blogger in a slew of mommy bloggers? Is she stable, depraved, disjointed, interesting, comprehensive….? But mostly, does she have anything worthy of reading to say?

That’s a lot pressure, no? It’s almost enough to make me tremble in my red and black striped fuzzy socks.

However, as we sometimes must do in this wild and oft times unpredictable world, I tarry on, and choose my topic with care and consideration to you, reader, whoever you might be.

So. After giving it much thought and deliberation, the thing that is most prevalent in my mind at this moment is this-

 

Yes, a spoon. Not that spoon, exactly, but a spoon. I actually don’t own THAT spoon (I got the image for it here), but I own a spoon much like it, and pretty soon, as soon as I get done doing this (and other things), I plan on putting that spoon to good use.

What is that, you might ask? Well, in case you couldn’t tell by the label, it’s quite possibly the best ice cream that Ben and Jerry have in their considerable arsenal of ice cream. And I just happen to have some in my freezer. Waiting for me to claim it, and ravage it as only ice cream can be ravaged.

So, given that, can you blame me for not being too prolific and blogger savvy on this, my first blog entry? I hope so.

Later :)