Around the New House by Joe Joe

I'm feeling more comfortable in our new Texas home. One thing that makes me happy is taking pictures.

[caption id="attachment_2673" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="This is what I see when Mom is working and I crawl under her desk to bite her toe."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_2674" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Lily's sippy cup is empty. Mooommy!"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_2675" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Mommy doesn't know this but she puts her hand on her face when she is thinking."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_2676" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="I dragged the rocking chair into the family room from Mommy & Daddy's room. I was bored."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_2677" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="I like my dune buggy."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_2678" align="alignnone" width="225" caption="My feet are getting bigger."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_2680" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Daddy thought he would be a big ball of blur in this photo. Hee hee."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_2681" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Mom told me to stay away from this, so naturally I am taking a close-up photo."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_2682" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Mom put this in the family room, then freaked out one day and put it in the back yard."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_2683" align="alignnone" width="225" caption="Mom said she used to think I had six toes. She's nuts."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_2684" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="My sister Lily likes it when I flash the camera in her face."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_2685" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="That's it for now. Bye bye."][/caption]

Life returns to normal

[caption id="attachment_2542" align="alignleft" width="150" caption="Our classy mirrored bar room, baby."][/caption]

Our new house came with a fairly extensive learning curve. It's an odd U shape and sports more windows and light switches than the viewing room at Good Morning America.

I'm not a fan of ridiculously bright rooms. I like a subtle, glowing atmosphere. Hence, nearly every time I walk by the living room I flick off the overhead lights. Only I'm not flicking off the overhead lights, I'm actually flicking the switch that my husband's computer and light are plugged into. It's not my fault they put the switches in the wrong place. I'll get used to it eventually. Ahh, the little things we do on a daily basis to compound our marital bliss.

Which makes me think of this morning. I cooked eggs for the kiddos in a little cast iron skillet that we found buried in the back yard of our old house in Placerville when I was a teenager, scrubbed to a black sheen by my determined Mother. She read somewhere that I can get iron in my kids' diets by cooking with a cast iron skillet. I don't know if it's true, but I figure it can't hurt. (Note to self: buy some SOS pads.)



After an unsuccessful battle with the stubborn egg funk coating the sides of the skillet aprés cook, I tucked my tail betwixt my legs and trudged over to the side of the fridge to add non-stick cooking spray to my running list. Shocked and pleased was I to discover that my husband had added something to the list for the very first time: AAA batteries! However, since he was in the area, he saw fit to install judgment on my denotation of intent to purchase self-tanner.



Listen up, Mr. Smug with the natural golden glow. I'm sick of being mistaken for the recent undead due to my ghastly white pallor. Not only that, I'm convinced that if I carefully apply self tanner to the ridges of the cellulite craters on my thighs I will render them invisible. Again, I have no proof to back this up but it's worth a try. You'll be thanking me later.

We all had fun last night after bath time. There is nary such a pleasing sight to thine eyes as my babies Joe and Lily scooting around in their jammies, freshly-scrubbed and sweet-smelling, high on new surroundings to claim and explore.



[caption id="attachment_2550" align="alignnone" width="225" caption="What's your order, Mom?"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_2549" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Joe was moving so fast I had to snap this picture two seconds before he ran into the kitchen to get the shot."][/caption]

Here are some random pictures of the past couple of weeks for interested family and friends to peruse. Some were taken at home, others at Dealey Plaza in Dallas, Texas. Have a wonderful Sunday, everybody. :)



[caption id="attachment_2539" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Lily and Brian camped out in our living room shortly before the move to Texas."][/caption]

Let's get it back!

Image by miss_blackbutterfly via Flickr

You know how it is.

You accidentally kick out a light bulb while dancing on the ceiling.

Your mini Dachshund rips out an oak tree in the back yard leaving a gaping, potentially dangerous hole.

You drive into a gated community and stop to read a sign on the gate, dumb to the fact that the gate is slowly closing on you, until you shock into life and peel out to the sound of said gate scraping along the side of your van, faintly reminiscent of the Loch Ness Monster being strangled by Mothra.

You fix none of this. You want to. The visual reminders niggle at you every. single. day. But who has the time? The money? The energy?

It's the same for me. I've been letting things slide lately. To be specific, I've been letting myself slide. I haven't been tending to my physical, mental or spiritual fitness. My body is in a state, and it's not one of the cool ones shaped like a boot. Oops, that's Italy.

My hair is in a tizzy, in the mornings slightly frizzy, and way too dark. I look like a vampire with carpet bags under her eyes. My body resembles a hairless older cat sitting atop a bag of battling birds. I'm lethargic. Can't concentrate to save my life. My nails, undone. Toes, unforgivably untended. Spirit, vacant and scooped out by the giant melon baller that is everyday life.

Mismanaged your money and can't pay the auto bill on time? Scoop, splat.

Wondering if you've made a horrible mistake by uprooting part of your family and moving half way across the country? Scoop, splat.

Best friend from back in the day scheduled for neurosurgery in early February with "a good chance of survival"? Scoop, splat. Can't breathe.

I've been spiraling away from the light. I know so many have it so much worse. This isn't about realizing how lucky I am. This is about faith. Faith in the rightness of The Universe. Faith in oneself.

Do I have the ability to put things back the way they ought to be? To scrape my hope and confidence off the sides of the microwave, where they exploded away from me sometime mid-December, and plop them back into the bowl of me?

Like you, I want things to be good. Heck, even great. So I will do it. I'm starting to learn that picking up the pieces of ourselves and having another go at it is a necessary part of life if we want to be whole.

Starting small, of course. I started taking prenatal vitamins again. I bought a horse hair brush to coax my hair into growing. I purchased some grapes, and an eggplant. Eventually I will eat them.

When the weather gets better I will rise with Dennis' alarm and take a bike ride, then come back and shower and put on a nice outfit and full hair and makeup, regardless of my plans for the day or lack of them.

Like a car revving behind the checkered flag, I will be ready.

I will get strong and stay strong because there are so many people I love, and so many I want to love, and there is so much to do.

Those of you who are my friends on Facebook who haven't blocked me out of self-preservation know that I used to post LIVE videos all the time. Now I'm going to inflict them upon you here. Because today is a good day for LIVE.

Operation Spirit
by LIVE

Heard a lot of talk about the ocean
Heard a lot of talk about the sea
Heard a lot of talk about a lot of things
Never meant that much to me
.
Heard a lot of talk about my spirit
Heard a lot of talk about my soul
But I decided that anxiety and pain
Were better friends
So I let it go
.
Did you let it go?
Let's get it back
Let's get it back together
.
Heard a lot of talk about this Jesus
A man of love, and a man of strength
But what a man was two thousand years ago
means nothing at all to me today
.
He could have been telling me about my
higher self
But he only lives inside my prayer
So what he was may have been beautiful
But the pain is right now
And right here
.
Let it go!
Let it go!
Let it go, my friend
And let's get it back
Let's get it back together

Joe got his first real haircut!

Supercuts + Lollipop = Fun!
[gallery link="file" columns="4"]

A couple of days ago Dennis and I took Joe to SuperCuts for his first real haircut. His Grandma used to trim his hair, but a trim was way overdue and it was time for his first real cut. Joe did great! I was prepared for all manner of drama, but it never unfolded. Joe actually seemed to enjoy the process.

The woman who cut his hair was fantastic. She let him touch the buzzer before she used it, and made funny noises. She even put up with me helicoptering around them, clasping my hands together and squealing with delight.

I'm still emotional about the whole thing. I watched my baby transform into a little boy right before my eyes. Dang it, tearing up again here. Joe, I love you!

Moms: Don't Get Sick!

Image by cutglassdecanter via Flickr

It finally happened - this thing I'd been dreading since becoming a mother. It didn't ask me first. There was no pleasant tea and biscuit-riddled discussion circle. It came and took me with the force of 1,000 body snatchers. It was more ghastly than watching John Basedow tongue-kiss Rosie O'Donnell at a People for the Ethical Treatment of Pond Scum meeting, more beastly and efficient than a rogue lop-eared Romulan with an axe to grind and a faltering emotional filter. It was, and ever-so-slightly-still-is, the stomach flu.

But at least it's over. Almost. For years now I've been heeding warnings from my friends with small children. Pasty-faced and earnest, boxes of Dayquil clutched to their breasts with trembling, near-licentious passion, they graciously offer sentiments like, "Dooon't geeet *cough* siiiick!"

"It's not worth it," one said.

"An impossibility," countered another, shaking her head a little too fast for a little too long.

"Don't let it happen," croaked a third, clutching my shirt and breathing the words into my face, spattling germ-ridden particles into my nose and mouth before loosening her grip to hug herself, rocking slightly as her eyes glazed over like those of a dead shark.

I had been living in fear for far too long. Alas, no longer! The barbarian came and attacked; it hit me over the head with a club of agony and pain and rendered me virtually incapable of caring for my children for a small time, one of my worst fears, forcing the issue and making it necessary for me to ask for... oh God I can't even say it, okay I'll say it, to ask for help.

Firstly, please know that I realize how lucky I am to only have contracted this sickness when so many more horrific and impossible ones exist, and that I have people to turn to for help. So many single and military moms out there don't have any recourse, and must suffer through the completely debilitating initial phase of the stomach flu in the fetal position while their children cry next to them, somehow mustering the strength to creep finger-over-finger into the kitchen and get their little ones the oral nourishment they require.

I have my own mother, who is suffering from a lingering sickness herself, renewed this morning, forcing her to call me for jello and ice chips, and most likely meaning that we will have to put off our move, which frustrates me to no end as I'm desperate to get this show on the road and it seems beyond reason that the universe is trying to pin us here indefinitely. (No, I don't blame you, Mom. No, I don't blame you, Mom. No, I don't blame you, Mom. I am not an awful person who would blame her Mom for something she can not help. I'm not. I'm not.) Still, she was able to come over at just the right time and do what she could for part of the day, make the jello and pudding we would all feast upon, and put the kids to sleep at bedtime. Thank you, Mom. It made all the difference in the world.

I have my husband Dennis, who was unable to leave work early in the morning due to a responsibility that could not be covered by another. I detected the strain in his voice when I asked, as he knew it was unobtainable, but so wanted to be here to help me. Bless him, he managed to leave at 11:30 and pick up some medicine for my mom and myself, along with organic lemon-lime soda. Then, upon being home for a mere couple of hours, he was promptly taken ill and proceeded to vomit like a mad cow well into the evening.

I have my stepson Brian, who may or may not be the culprit who brought the foul brute of a sickness into our home on Christmas, but suffers the guilt as though he's sure of it, who was more than willing to assist, but had to work. He did come over yesterday, bless his big fat heart, to help with the kids while his father and I did our best to recover.

And, of course, there are my babies - Joe and Lily. Lily has been sick for days now, the poor thing, vomiting and uncomfy. It is so hard to watch such a small, beautiful thing in so much discomfort, and not be able to make it better for her. We tried baths, snuggling, and extended bouts of nursing. To be fair, I did the nursing, Dennis did the bathing. Just when it appeared as though she might be feeling better, my sweet angel would upchuck in her crib. This is a nasty, barbarous illness. If Lily is not fully herself today I am going to fashion a goat out of her pain and kick it in the ding ding. Then slap it.

So far, and I'm afraid to even talk about it lest I should awaken fate, Joe has remained his healthy, vigorously perky self.

Now I am in a position to pass the baton of warning to other new moms. Face it: You can't get sick! Long gone are the days when you could convalesce in the comfort of your bed after being stricken by a bug, snoozing at will, watching "What's Happening!" reruns, and perhaps even catching up on your reading. Not only will you not be allowed the sanctity of your recovery time, you will most likely be called to duty. Others in your family will probably be taken ill, if they are not ill already, and they will need you to muster whatever strength you can find to tend to them. And you will do it, no matter how ill, because love, my friends, is the most powerful force in the universe.

Time, love and ice chips will make it all better. Just don't let it happen again! :wink:

Merry Christmas & Happy Hanukkah!

I awoke at 4 AM this Christmas Eve and lay there in bed, squeezing my eyes shut, imagining myself in my Grandma's back room, listening to the muffled voices of my early-rising family. There's so much comfort in being a child, safe in bed, half-asleep and half in the land of the sounds and smells and bustle of family just in the other room, family who loves you, family who cooks you awake with bacon, and ruffles your hair and kisses your first tentative daily steps into safety and warmth.

It's never looked and felt less like Christmas in my own home this year, due to our move and the house being mostly packed, but it's never felt more like it in my heart. I would have my children emerge from their rooms this morning into wrinkle in time, so that they may feel as I have felt so many Christmas Eves, as a child, when I looked up to the world and it didn't so much look down on as smile upon me. Flocking, lights, boughs of holly, falalalala lalalala. Arranging and re-arranging the presents under the tree. Taking a musical trip to an open fire, where chestnuts roast, and jack frost nips playfully at your nose.

They won't have that this year. They will have our tiny tree and a sea of candles which Joe will remind me to light, and be amazed and satisfied by. He will tell me, as he has for the last four days, that today is Christmas and that it's time to open the presents. That "it is a good morning".

I will hear Lily awaken and tap her feet all over her wall, and tickle me into smiles with her coos and gaiety. When I bring her into the living room and gently place her on the rug, she will not fret for what isn't there, as, thankfully, she will not remember to register the lack of it. She will pussyfoot over to her brother and laugh at his expression, and they will playfully crawl in circles, chasing each other like puppies.

Dennis will eventually give up on sleep and plod down the hallway, his mind on the Christmas pastries we didn't make, but purchased ahead of time, happy to have them, and wanting our hugs and bodily warmth, to hear our laughter and see our beaming faces and to know that he can rest for today and enjoy the mood and magic that is Christmas.

Merry Christmas or Happy Hanukkah to you and all you hold dear!
I'm so very glad our paths crossed this year.
Soon 'twill be time to start anew, again...
Let's give the world heck in 2010!

Wow I've Been Busy by Joe Joe

Hello again! Lots of things have happened since my last post! :woot:

[caption id="attachment_1919" align="alignnone" width="225" caption="Last week I saw a hot air balloon come towards our house from a far away mountain!"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1920" align="alignnone" width="225" caption="It flew right over our house and the people inside waved hello to me!"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1921" align="alignnone" width="225" caption="It headed around the corner - where is it going?!?"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1922" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="It landed in a future park site just down the road. I told Grandma I wanted to go and get my butterfly net to catch it!"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1923" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Lily got all muddy in the back yard that day and Mommy tried to get all fancy and make the picture black and white."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1924" align="alignnone" width="199" caption="Daddy was watching a program about The Beatles and Lily fell in love with Paul McCartney. "][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1925" align="alignnone" width="200" caption="My Godmother Gina and Godsister Rachel sent a Thanksgiving treat to Lily and me, pudding cups and mixes galore, and creature paper plates! Thank you Gina and Rachel! We love you!"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1927" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Lily had fun stacking the pudding cups she ripped out of my hand."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1928" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Lily is proud of her accomplishment!"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1929" align="alignnone" width="225" caption="The tiger plate was one of my favorites. That and the beaver plate!"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1930" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Daddy pretended he was a tiger. I think he fooled Lily. Brian thought it was funny."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1931" align="alignnone" width="225" caption="I just wanted to put another picture of me in here with my fancy necklace."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1932" align="alignnone" width="200" caption="Lily thought it was fun to crawl into Godmother Gina's UPS box."][/caption]

Then the other day I woke up really early and found Mom's camera again. I can't believe she keeps forgetting to put it away at night.

[caption id="attachment_1933" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="I like this chest."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1934" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="I like the way my foot looks on the rug."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1935" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="I like the way my foot looks on the inexcusably dirty tile floor in the kitchen."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1936" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="I like my Elmo chair and my huge, messy stack of toys that Mom's always organizing only to discover that I've messed up her piles yet again."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1937" align="alignnone" width="225" caption="I like my leg, too."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1938" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="This picture scares Mom. She thinks it looks like a butt."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1939" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="I am first and foremost an artist. I kind of like this one."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1940" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="My big brother Dennis turned 18 on Saturday!!! We took him to Red Robin and I crawled on his and everybody else's heads for an entire hour!"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1941" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Dad, Brian, Dennie and me at Red Robin. Mom put down her huge glass of beer long enough to take the photo."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1943" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Then she picked it back up again."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1944" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="My big brother Brian held me while I looked for dropped food under the table."][/caption]

That's it for now. :D