I Kid You Not

I'm all for saving gas and eco-friendly transportation and all.  So when I saw a guy in a suit cruising down Interstate 5 on a motorcycle, black slacks flapping in the wind, shined up pointy toed wing-tips, and black biker gloves I thought, huh, okay, good for you worker dude.  After all, you're wearing a helmet and driving the speed limit.  

Worker dude changed lanes to the left, once, then twice until he was in the fast lane.  With him just behind me on the left, I couldn't help but glance in my mirrors at the sight of him.  His motorcycle was hardly a "chopper," more a dirt bike on the freeway.  His collared shirt peeked through the top of his "biker jacket," and he had a certain awkward posture as he hunched over his bike.  Poor schlep, I thought.  You should be driving an Accord or another acceptable mid-size sedan.

That's when it happened.

Worker dude went to his hip to remove something.  Wha?  Could it be?  Is he actually?  Yup, there was no denying the near-patent thumb-flipping motion of reading his Blackbery, while driving a motorcycle, in the fast lane, on the 5 freeway, oh yeah for three entire miles!  No joke.

I swear I was just about to take a picture of him.  My camera was on the passenger seat, in perfect reach.  But I thought better of being a hypocrite of using such technology while, oh I dunno, DRIVING.  You'll just have to take my word for it.

Happy Father's Day

Sneak Peek

Yeah, yeah, yeah.  I'm still talking about moving over here.  Bored yet?  Here's a peek at the new casa.

Tatum's Room BEFORE:

Tatum's Room AFTER:

Jack and Jill Bathroom view BEFORE:

Jack and Jill Bathroom View AFTER:

Chase's New Paint Job:

Not Afraid of Color Laundry Room:

(This color was already here and I LOVE it!)

Family Room:

Kitchen:

Play Room:

(I've unpacked wine glasses and toys so far.  What does that say about me?)

They're going to need that play room because Ta-Da (!)

This is almost the entirety of the back "yard."

Talk about low maintenance.  

Dining Room:

W still don't actually move until next Thursday.  We're eager to make the transition, and excited to fill it up with window coverings, photos, furniture, and NOISE!

Do You Ever Feel Like Your Ass Is Stuck In A Bucket?

My absence can be explained by this, my ass is stuck in a bucket.  I'm walking around boxes to get to more boxes to pack new boxes only to forget what's in said boxes.  You see, we've moved so many times this year that I thought it would be okay to save our old boxes.  Cool.  Until the husband throws the VERY MOST FRAGILE-EST of things on the floor because the box read "Laundry Supplies" (awfully light for laundry supplies, ya think?)  My bad.  But I'm just sick of moving, so I'm doing a crap-ass job.  

We've closed escrow on our new home.  The moving journey will soon be over.  The marital stress of putting the brakes on our almost new life in Colorado was huge.  But now, the peace my husband and I have found in this decision is better than marriage counseling.   Getting through our recent stress is like yoga, a massage, zen, and a glass of wine all rolled up, yo-ma-zen-wine.  And quite frankly, who doesn't need more yomazenwine in their life?  It's not about the house, but more about what it means for our family.

But before we clang glasses in final celebration, we have packing and tripping over boxes for 9 more days.  You know when you know that you're going on a vacation, so you start saving up all of your cute clothes, because you want them to be clean for the trip?  So you wear all of your dorky clothes that you just know won't be coming along on vacation.  That's where we are, but instead of clothes, it's random food in the pantry/freezer, toys for the kids, toiletries, etc..  I need to pack everything, but in phases.  So the in between phase feels sort of like walking around with a bucket on my ass.  You know the feeling, right?

Drowning

Ugh.  

Just came up for air (beneath the dozens of cardboard boxes) long enough to say, 

"It's not you, it's me."

My Google Reader is at 123 today.  I'm getting panic attacks for neglecting such fine authors, but for now ... I have to pull away and focus on packing, moving, oh and ... paying attention to my kids.  

I think I'll have to break up with Twitter and Cr8Buzz too because I just can't keep up.  And I'm a girl who likes to put her ALL into everything.  So if I can't be the best, I quit.  (Great teachable moment here, if only I had time to figure it out...)

While I'm on sabbatical (read: getting my world screwed on straight) please read a real-life friend of mine who has decided to blog, again, for the fifth time.  Please pop over and give her a welcome.  I promise you some adorable twins on her site.  

In between gulps of packaging tape, packing paper, and shoving shampoo, wine glasses, and dump trucks all into one box, I'll check in.  Until then ... I'll miss ya'll.  

Wordless Wednesday

If You Give A Kid A Muffin ...

Living The (Estrogen) Life

I've been anxious about a certain birthday party that Tatum was invited to for the last 6 months.  Yes, 6 months.  It was a spa party ... for 4 year olds.  Rather than go into the politics of birthday parties and all their ante-upping I'll say this:  

Tatum had a mask, a manicure, a spa pedicure, a professional hairstyle, and professional "make-up," all while wearing chenille robes and getting catered to with light-up cups full of marshmallow-decorated smoothies.  Indulgent, yes.  Did she need a mask to smooth her flawless skin?  Of course not.  But I'm putting the breaks on judging.  We're all just parents trying to do the right thing.  

I've over thought the event for all these months, and when it came down to it, the party was for a friend, not for Tatum.  It was their choice to choose the day for their daughter.  I'm 99% sure they don't read my blog, but I want to be careful not to bash the day.  I had thoughts of this, but the truth is, it was sweet and the birthday girl had fun.

The price tag I can't imagine.  But Tatum eased my fears with this:

Manicurist (applying glitter on tiny fingernails):  "Would YOU like to have a party like this one day?"

Tatum:  No.

And just like that, we can go back to the likes of pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey.

In other news, Mom had an indulgent Mom's Night Out too.  We saw Sex and the City.  All I can say is, it felt good to be a part of the buzz.  The theatre was packed with dolled-up, Cosmo-drinking women with Hall Passes to get out, and out we did.  I'm a sucker for an easy story line and a happy ending, so my vote, go see it.  

Looking beyond the cliches of fairy tales, overpriced shoes and product plugs, and looking beyond the shoulds and should nots of birthday party etiquette, here's the thing:  We had fun.  

I tend to over think everything and lose the moment in the process.  Yesterday was all Cyndi Lauper-like because really, "Girl's Just Want to Have Fun."  And sometimes, that's just fine.