Car Shoes

Ori and I have been on the journey to much less boob for well over a month now. I'd be lying if I didn't say he hasn't been a bit reluctant to the process, but he also has had some really awesome moments. Once - just once {EVER} - since this process began he actually came to me to just sit in my lap and cuddle so he could fall asleep. It was awesome to feel like something more than the booby - the milk servant to a very pushy, alpha male complex-ified midget. He asks for boob; I offer him food instead. The only feedings he refuses to give up are those after he wakes up. We've gotten into a great routine for bed time and for awhile he would either not cry at all or cry for just a few minutes after I told him good night and closed the door, but something switched in his baby brain and now he cries until he settles. We were really ready to move on to the next stage in our relationship - the one were mommy is there for love and comfort with her shirt on - so most of the time the crying doesn't get to me. I know he's just making a lot of noise and getting his energy out. But then there are nights like last night - when he took a late nap and isn't quite as tired as he should be, but it's nearly 12 and he shouldn't be up that late (bedtime is 9), and he's running around super fast and happy in nothing but car shoes... then it pulls on my heart a bit. Oh the cuteness! The urge to just go and get him can be a bit nagging, but I just think about all the awesome times we have now; the ones were he just comes to me to get a hug or snuggle w/ me while I play video games or whatever it is I'm doing;  so many awesome times when I get to be a person worthy of his affection and not just a juice box... and that really makes it worth it.

Notebooking

That's Bob in there. :)

Once upon a time there was a girl who wrote constantly.

Anything was game when the impulse hit: napkins, restaurant menus, receipts, appendages, other people's appendages... you get the point. Out of this seemingly as necessary as breathing desire to write, an obvious addiction was born - notebooks.

I loved them as much as some women love shoes.
A crisp, new, funky, unique notebook would make me squeal like a 5 year old on Christmas morning.



How I loved them.
There was, however, a problem with my love.
I have this ridiculous OCD thing where if one letter is even in the most minuscule way "wrong" I have to rip out the page and start all over again - regardless of how far I had gotten - that page was officially ruined. So many trees must have died in vain because of my ridiculousness. I tried for a long time to switch to typing but at the time (you know the way back time where everyone only had one family aka shared desktop pc) I didn't have a computer or typewriter available to me when the urge struck and quite frankly typing really didn't feel like my soul flowing through my fingers. Much like one's sword, my pen was an extension of myself; my outlet to emote, to express, to stay introverted. The funny thing is now I would be lost without my laptop... shiny, shiny, laptop.... my PRECIOUS...

*ahem*

Damaged!

But alas, it has been damaged, and must be repaired... I must learn to let go.. but *gasp* I just started writing again! Is everything for naught?

Okay, so maybe it's a little dramatic...

and I really don't want to be sans laptop when Dexter premiers; so I digress.

 For months I've been contemplating buying a few small notebooks to carry with me for when my muse strikes, weighing my desire to save trees with my desire to re-flourish my gift, but for some reason it just didn't happen - that is until the other day. Perhaps inspired by school supply shopping and the notion of new beginnings or maybe a little jealous that I couldn't pick out a Tinkerbell pencil case;  I left the store with two shiny new (recycled and banana papered) notebooks and a fresh pack of the best pens ever.

And so in a few days I'll be packing up my precious and turning back to my old dear... first love - the notebook to blog and write ideas throughout the day then I'll steal H's laptop to post later in the day or in the a.m. to post. You know, when he gets to sleep and I don't. Yeah, sometimes that makes me a little bitter. I never get to sleep. Never. 

But I suppose that is another post for another day.

Notebooked!

De-Cluttering

I have been {and am} going through ginormous process lately. Mostly lots of thinking and sorting things out silently, with God and myself. There are times when being a mom just really isn't enough for me, there is still that annoying screaming voice urging me that I was really meant to do something so much greater, accomplish something, have great adventures. I'm sure that those mommies that were seriously geared towards being mommies their whole lives would try to reassure me that having children and leading them in the right way really is a great accomplishment (and I'm sure I'd agree, some of the time), but that notion just doesn't make me feel any less trapped, or any less guilty for feeling trapped by these awesome little people that I adore more than anything else. There is this constant feeling that I'm simultaneously failing them as well as failing myself - you know my other self that pre-children or even single-child-having self that teenagers thought was cool, but especially that five year old self that was bound to be a journalist/photographer/world traveler/ Columbia graduate that hung out at coffee shops performing acoustic numbers and obviously questionable poetry. She is the one that I feel so many people owe an explanation to... why wasn't she nurtured? why weren't those dreams supported and lifted up? Recently there have been a lot of very strong emotions swimming around on her behalf - but really when it comes down to it - at this point - I'm the only one that can rectify... or rather change the obvious outcome of what has become her future. Months ago I stumbled upon a homeschooling blog (or maybe she stumbled upon me first) where I found the most "lightbulb" of a quote : "It is never too late to become what you might have been." It really was exactly what I needed to here and since then I've been trying to find a way to implement it, to change and start moving in the "right" direction. Apparently, the real first step was not merely just deciding to change or realizing I had a problem - if you will, it has been sorting things out {a life time of things and feelings, disappointments, and bad and or seemingly forced choices, ect.} and de-cluttering.

...and send my laptop in to get fixed. 
Hello my name is Dani and I'm addicted to the internet.

*Note* My "lightbulb" quote is usually accredited to George Eliot but apparently it's worded numerous ways and it's origin is quite fuzzy.

perhaps we're a little more connected than I thought...

So it has been decided.
Like, really decided.
Sure, I've been talking about it and playing with the idea, randomly tweeting... and thinking about exactly where my convictions lie.
And even after all that I wasn't quite sure - but I was going forward with it - leaping blindly as I often do. So I started my day out searching for blogs, Vegetarian foodie blogs - good ones, hopefully some that avoided meat substitutes - because that's just stupid. I found a few hand fulls and told myself to come back to it later to sort out some sort of menu before I go shopping tomorrow.
The initial plan was to close the laptop and then start cleaning - you know because I've been trying hard to be a grown up and was thus distracted by the lovely internet. I did eventually get to my housework, of course H also came home much earlier than he should have and it is still not finished, but my ability to be a good grown up or at the very least good house winch is not the focus of this post so I'll get to it. So as H was buzzing about trying to find food because he was "starving", which is believable because he's 6 foot and weighs as much as a girl (seriously I need to feed him lard), I let him know that we'd be going mostly vegetarian because food cost is ridiculous. To which he responded,
"I was thinking about that."
Yes. He is super vague - all. the. time. Despite the fact he is a genius it kind of stops at the math... language and communication seem to escape him.
So I inquire "being vegetarian, food cost... the global economy?"
"Yeah" he says.
"Being vegetarian?" I say.
"Yeah."
*heh* If H was a normal person this is where I'd gush that it was cool that even though I hadn't talked to him about it and even though I feel so disconnected from him on such a regular basis that we were still connected and communicating in some awesome sub-conscious telepathic way. But he's not that guy - you know the one that writes poetry, plays an instrument.. or even has long hair - so consider your selves gushed to.
And just like that it was decided.
yeah. tah-dah... or something like that.

the best present - ever.

I am ecstatic to report that mother nature was simply holding out on me so that she, the dear that she she is, could deliver the best present possible to me on Mother's Day. Oh yeah, that's right! The physical reassurance that I am not a Mommy to the fourth power... at least not this month, and that? I'll take.
In fact, I may even buy a cake, hang streamers, and invite the entire freaking neighborhood. Because this my friends? Is something worth celebrating. Poor Aunt Flo gets such a bad rap... but if more ladies considered the alternative...
well, let's just say I wouldn't be the only one whistling "If I knew you were comin' I'd a baked a cake."

of Ori and men...

Bras make Ori very angry.
He has figured out the shirt but the bra still illudes him.
He just keeps staring at it, my shirt lifted over his head crying "nah, nah, nah, nah!" and shaking his head - because that's how he says no and voices his disapproval.
My giggling only seems to heighten his anger...
Ori's tug-of-war with my shirt and anger with the unyielding bra has made me realize that men have a life long battle with gaining access to boobies...
They're always right there... and there is always something keeping them from getting them.
And then someone giggling at them when they fail.

*ahem*

Hello dear-hearts, I am coming out of my bloggy coma - but not because I've had an epiphany that stuck and I'm suddenly feeling better and totally capable of juggling all my balls... or chickens.. or whatever. I'm here to let you in on a secret... Okay so it's not a secret...
Scary Mommy is having an awesome giveaway for the king of all vacuums on her blog!
What?
Yes king.. vacuums are totally men and you can't prove me wrong.
So head on over here to enter.
Just don't expect me to be rooting for you...
because my vacuum is older than me...
and my mom.
;-p But don't worry I'll still love you if you win, my floors will just be a lot dirtier than yours.

Motherhood is..

It's that time again :)


  Motherhood is...

... an over zealous way of insuring ones right to play with toys.

   Yeah. Captain America is totally protecting the 50 ft Woman and her over sized woodland friends from this ferocious T-Rex, while riding a triceratops.  You know because he left his motorcycle in prehistoric times and these dinosaurs came through the portal. Duh.

 :) {Queen D, defining motherhood one blog post at a time} and ....GO!

So what's the deal with that team in training thing: The letter.

   I am currently training to participate in the Rock ‘n’ Roll San Diego Marathon on June 6th. I’m super excited about the event, not only for the physical accomplishment, my waistline shrinkage as I train, or even the weekend adventure the race presents, but because I’m doing it for a cause that is close to my heart. You see I am not just running the ½ marathon as an individual I am running with Team in Training (TNT), a division of the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (LLS). During the training stage The Team provides me with a coach, training schedule, and support. In turn I raise funds for the LLS and spread awareness. I am optimistic and driven but this is no easy task - not only had I not run more than a mile before I began my training – (I ran 8 on Sunday!), but I also have always tried to avoid fundraisers – and this one is huge!

   The majority of the funds I raise help aide the LLS in their many contributions to fight against blood cancers. Blood cancers seem to run rampant in my family. My uncle Danny lost his fight against leukemia. Several years after his death my grandfather, my father were diagnosed w/ non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma , something that my father was certain was a death sentence – his greatest fear- but because of organizations like the LLS, Lymphomas are considered some of the most treatable, CUREABLE cancers and my dad and grandpa are both considered cured today. Unfortunately that was not the end in 2004 my dad was diagnosed with another form of lymphoma, follicular lymphoma grade 2. This type of lymphoma, though far less aggressive than his previous type, is not “curable”. He currently only receives treatment when he experiences difficulties, but the chemotherapy only temporarily shrinks the growth that has rooted itself around his sternum. Due to the great strides made by organizations like LLS is very possible that this and other types of currently incurable blood cancers within my father’s lifetime, and he may be able to once again live cancer free. That is something that I am willing to fight for, or in this case work my butt off for.

   I am committed to raise $3,000 for the LLS. See? I told you it was huge! TNT has provided me with my own TNT page where you can keep up to date on my progress as well as make donations via credit card. I invite you to be a part of this great accomplishment by supporting me in my efforts and donating as much as you are able. Regardless of the size, every donation counts, moves me that much closer to my goal, and is greatly appreciated. 75% of the funds gifted go directly to the organization. The LLS have 5 priority programs. Each program in some way aides the society in reaching its goal of finding cures to eliminate leukemia, lymphoma, and related cancers. These programs include research, public education, a patient aid program that provides financial and emotion support to patients and their families, community service, and professional education. The remaining 25% is used by the LLS/TNT to cover my training expenses and my entry into the marathon as well as my modest travel, and hotel fee for the weekend of the event.

   I am hoping to reach the majority of my goal before my re-commitment date, April 2, 2010. If you are willing/ able to support me and join in my fight against blood cancers I would appreciate that all donations were made before that date. I will, however, be excepting donations through the first week of May. Your time and consideration is greatly appreciated! To make an online donation you can visit my TNT page here, and if you have any questions or would like more information about Team in Training or the LLS feel free to e-mail me at queen {dot} dani {at} yahoo {dot} com.

Noon in sunny, southwest Florida

:)

if only you could see the sheeting that's going on in my "backyard"

Boys are stupid... duh.

Every moment of forever...

Motherhood is..

Yep, I finally got around to it. So with out further ado I give you: Motherhood is.. {Defining motherhood one blog post at a time}. I have to admit I was a little inspired by those Parenthood commercials, but it goes a bit beyond that. Seriously, motherhood in itself is truly undefinable... I'm not much for the sappiness - so I'll move on.
 *Tah-dah*

 

Rainbow Push-up pop kisses.
{Queen D, defining motherhood one blog post at a time}

Get it? It's simple... finish the sentence, make it your own, 

{mention me, please} then link up and share all those wonderful, frustrating, and sticky moments.

Awesome Header By the Amazing Bri Bri.

Post-it Note Tuesday: To-do List

If only it were really that easy...

To avoid the certain death that comes along with one's brain blinking too often, I wrestled the pan lids out of Ori's unwilling hands. There is only so much fervent coffee table banging one can take after all, and Hilary was {ahem and is} still sleeping. In an attempt to avoid the eardrum shattering velociraptor screeching that follows when Ori's alpha ego is bruised, I grab the first noise making toy I see {A piece of the Little Peoples carnival, if you must know}. I spin the Ferris wheel expecting to hear music, giggling and best of all not hear my child morph into the ferocious beast he truly is. Nothing happens the screeching begins as I exclaim: "Great someone turned it off because it's fun to make my life more difficult." Okay perhaps I was being bitchy whiny, but anyone who has ever tried to accomplish anything with children in the house should understand, the tiniest malfunction can mean the difference between mommy success and mommyFAIL. So I rush over to close my bedroom door, frustration brewing in my chest. Then Teijah happily states: "Yours life is not difficult, mommy, see? Turn on." {Because everything a three year old does comes with narration.} He turned on the Ferris wheel and gave it to the now content velociraptor. Me? I was in hysterics. Heh, thanks a lot, Teijah... if only it were really that easy.

Post-it Note Tuesday: The Inner Struggle

 

 

 

 

POST-IT!

23

where we call home
{courtesy of H's poppy and his wifey-poo}

Dear Ori,

My sweet, neediest, most aggressive, genuine, velociraptor baby - Mommy loves you very much, and is all about the extended breastfeeding. It's not because I'm attached to breastfeeding it's more so because the idea of ripping something away you are so attached to - especially when that thing is not just 100% perfect human nutrition, but is also part of me - some may argue the very essence of "mommy" in infancy - makes me cringe. So, having someone that is almost as tall as me attached to me on a constant basis seems much more "worth it" ... most of the time. Now I get it, you're new so maybe you don't understand how this works... maybe they didn't give you all the instructions on your very long, grueling, painful, way out. You see, sweet child, you are over a year old now.  That means that mommy and her boobies are no longer your only source of nutrition. Now that you are growing into such a big special boy real food is supposed to be your main source of nutrition and the booby? Well, that's just supposed to be a supplement. I've given you time to adjust, and yes the boob is much more convenient... it's obvious that the boob isn't filling you up anymore, which is why you seem to want it every five minutes.

At least I hope that's why... I tend to imagine all of my lovely children plot against me but I would like to think that it was not actually the case.

On a similar note, when mommy sits down it is NOT an invitation to come get some booby... or should I say come wrestle me and demand a booby. Usually if I'm sitting down it's because I'm trying to do school work, and lets face it, it's difficult to type with a little man standing on his head in ones lap while he's trying to figure out how to get your shirt off. Now I understand that you've been teething but seriously? Mommy has been working for a long time now to get the house clean and has managed to keep it that way until now. Thanks for that by the way. You are not the only thing mommy has to take care of.

And seriously?!?
You have your own bed.
There is no reason for you to sleep with me unless I want you to, so I can get more sleep, or step on toys, or take a nap... or whatever.
When I spend forever feeding you so you can fall asleep on the booby (something that your siblings either never did or were done with before they were your age btw), you should not intentionally decide not to stay asleep when I put you in you big boy bed. That Sir, is annoying and drives mommy to the brinks of her sanity... mommy is a busy mommy and that interferes with progress. At this point in our relationship mommy should be free to sleep with daddy alone in bed and naked if she wants to with out the fear of tiny feet in her mommy parts. We live in Florida. It's hot. Sleeping in pants sucks.
Furthermore, you are what like 15 months old now? Don't you think it's time to... I don't know, sleep more than 1 1/2 - 2 hours? You know, that's how little babies sleep... are you a little baby or a big boy?
Okay so maybe that as harsh, but it's hard for mommy to be nice on over a year of no sleep. The lack of sleep and your pushiness has spurred crazy ideas like mommy just taking off for a week so you'll be done with the boob... and I know you don't want that. But seriously, how much longer do you think mommy can go with out killing people? Now we can compromise. If you want I'd totally be down with one middle of the night feeding... that's what Teijah did until he decided he was done with the booby at around 16 months. That was great it allotted mommy time to be a grown up and maybe go to a bar with Bri Bri - or at least the opportunity to SLEEP. Pushiness, btw is unattractive, especially the agressive "no I'm the alpha male" kind you seem to love. Just fyi when that sort of thing presents in men mommy tend to run away as fast as she can... and yes it would even make Edward unappealing. So I suggest you end it now before you like girls... or boys... or whatever.
Ah, I'm glad we could have this little one sided talk.
 I hope you'll take it into consideration next time you go all velociraptor and pull my pants down trying to make me do what you want.
kthanks.♥ ~ mommy

20

Waiting...

{for the bus}

19

1 out of 2 sock monkey slippers agree..

this grout is clean :)

{and the other one is just a jerk}