What? A Girl's Got to Accessorize?

There are definitely some advantages to living without a man in the house. My own closet. My own stash of ice cream. Pink sheets. Violet sheets. Flowery sheets. Watching whateverthehellIwant on TV.

And then? There are those moments where I reeeeeaaaally could use a man.

Take for example the sweet and serene scene of a Mom gently tucking her little boy into bed. She lovingly pulls back the sheets, gathers all of his favorite stuffed creatures, plumps the pillows in just the right... HOLY SHIT WHAT IS THAT ON HIS PILLOW?

...

I'm pretty sure it looked more like this, actually:

What's a Mom to do...but scream? Duh. Then, ask children to hurrythefuckup and run and get a shoe. I figure I'm best suited to keep an eye on the thing (although I really couldn't have missed the dragon-sized-beast feverishly crawling on my son's pillow) while the youngins' run and fetch me a weapon.

"Hurry please. Go get me a shoe."

"Where?"

"In my closet. Hurry. Quick. Shoe."

....

...

"Hellooooo? Just get a shoe. Any shoe. Quickly."

"Tatum," (I think Chase spotted some legos or something far more interesting along the way) "Where are you?"

"Mommy, I'm tryyyyyying."

...

...

"Tatum, I can't take my eye off this thing. Just.Grab.A.Shoe.Right.Now."

About 40twentyhundred16 minutes later, she shows up with a lovely red ballet flat. One which I know damn well was not the most conveniently located shoe in the closet. In fact, it would have taken some perusing, reaching, tippy-toes, major yoga moves to find that shoe.

It's a shoe she has had a penchant for borrowing once before.

Apparently, a it's an innate sense that a girl must always choose exactly the right shoe for every event.

Dumbo

A certain little birthday girl and birthday boy just turned one whole hand's worth of 1-2-3-4-5! Holy Moly. Five?!

Maybe it's the nostalgia of creating family five years ago. Maybe it's spending the day at "The Happiest Place on Earth." And maybe I'm just all kinds of mixed up and wacky. Maybe.

Or maybe, maybe our divorce will save our marriage.

There's a certain comfort in being a family of four. There's a certain peace in being able to communicate better now, than in the past months...years. There's a certain insanity when an (ex) husband and wife share dating stories with one another.

Although there are no certain answers, we have found a way to continue to grow. As individuals. As a couple. For this, I am grateful. Grateful and entirely crazy. Who knows what will be ahead. But damn, I could really use a map right now...

...'cause I'm feeling kinda Dumbo.

My iPhone Broke My Heart

I dropped my phone once today in the parking lot outside of school. Thanks to the (new) case, it was just fine. Whew!

Then, I dropped it again on the hardwood floors at Patrick's while I was picking up the kids. This time, I wasn't so lucky. Dead. Nothin'.

Then, I brought it home to try and give it some love, and I dropped it again on the tile floor.

Now...it's so not responding. I tried CPR. I tried that AED thingie that you see on walls in public places. I tried putting it on my pillow and singing softly. All to no avail.

Shit.

I want my phone.

I neeeeeed my phone.

I hear it ringing.

I hear that cute little sound when I get a text.

But the damn screen won't light up.

So, until I get to the Apple store (Read: I'm going after school tomorrow to the Apple store), I think I'm out of luck.

Fortunately, I still have my laptop to keep me company. How is it that I went all the way through college without a cellphone? And now? I'm hyperventilating and making out with my computer for some techno-love.

Is there a such thing as iPhone armor?

Or should I just get some really great super glue?

Shit.

Come back to me my love...

I'm Totally Going Shoe Shopping, Or Maybe On a Date

So, I had to wear these things called shoes to work last week. They like, go around your foot and have a front and a back. They pretty much suck if they're not called flip-flops.

And then this little thing called ouch these blisters really hurt happened.

But it's not all bad, because I totally have good reason to go shoe shopping. And, I might need to go to the hot foot doctor. Where might need to means, I'm so making an appointment and stealing him from the world, and asking him on a date.

Right. Well, maybe just the new shoes then...

(It totally looks worse in person.

Totally worthy of an MD's time.

Did I mention my limp?)