Hey, It's Okay Tuesday!

It's that time again, and these two, fine ladies do this right.

Hey, It's Okay . . .

. . . to be the only mom in the world that doesn't throw big birthday parties for one-year-olds . . . or two-year-olds. (I'm pretty sure people are silently thanking me for not throwing one for Henry. There were a lot of babies born a year ago!)

. . . to not even be phased about the fact that your rear screen door is, literally, falling off the house.

. . . to not understand why someone needed to borrow your name, number, and address to get an auto insurance quote for a 2009 Mazda Tribute.

. . . to be really glad that nobody can see how ridiculously filthy your house is because you've been working 30-hour weeks for four weeks. (Must. Clean. This. Week.)

. . . to not really believe that your kid starts preschool a week from today—and that she's going to love it.

. . . to stop everything to listen to some baby gibberish.

. . . to feel so brilliant (yet, so stupid) because you figured out that if you move a gate hook to the other side of a fence post, the dog won't break out of your fenced-in yard. (I had been wracking my brain for a month about a solution for that one.)

. . . to go to your 10-year high school reunion and actually really enjoy seeing all those faces again. (Who knew? I actually did. I knew I'd enjoy it.)

Things Worth Noting

Firstly, here are some photos that were taken by Nora:

Can you tell I've been working a lot lately? That's how I've been looking from my kids' point of view. It's sad.



I think she's actually pretty good with that thing.

Secondly, I was painting Nora's toenails (for, like, the second time in her life), and we heard our neighbor, Frank, cough. (We had our windows open.) Nora promptly said, "Bless you, Frank!"

He didn't hear it. It was still pretty sweet, though.

Thirdly, I trimmed Henry's hair this morning. That was his first haircut. I tried to get photos of before and after, but the camera battery was dead. Of course! He was looking a bit trollish, so it had to be done. It's still not perfect (he was moving a lot). Next time, I may be using clippers! I hope his little curls aren't totally gone, now. I liked 'em.

Hey, It's Okay Tuesday!

Thanks to these two (Sara and Amber) for making it okay . . . on Tuesdays.

Time to wail! Hey, It's Okay . . .

. . . to use Ferris Beuller's Day Off being on AMC (which, suddenly, is an unavailable channel) as your excuse to FINALLY hook up all that stupid digital upgrade crap from Comcast that's been sitting in boxes for, like, four months.

. . . if you want to have an air horn handy when you answer work-related phone calls.

. . . if you put on makeup during the week (when you know nobody is going to see you) just because it actually seems to keep the pimples at bay. (Not full-out makeup—just a barrier.)

. . . to know that your kid is hanging out on a ledge that's 3.5 feet off the ground and not run over there to stop him. After all, you know you could be sitting there all day removing him from that ledge 'cause that little bugger's going to go right back up there. (When you're a mom/dad one day, you'll find yourself alarmingly unfazed about things that would've freaked you out if you were on the "outside, looking in.")

Nora's telling me to get him down. She's concerned.

. . . if some of your big, life challenges involve keeping your kid from: (1.) shutting down your computers (work and personal) at inopportune times and (2.) diving into the toilet.

. . . if "Hey, It's Okay Tuesday" is your rare mental break from the pavement-pounding lifestyle you seem to be leading this past week and a half. (Work has been brutal.)

Breaking the Silence

I have been utterly slahahammed with work this week. So, I've not had much opportunity for taking pictures, uploading, blogging, what have you. I'm making time right now. So, without further ado, here are some recent photos of the monkeys. They've grown up quite a bit lately.


Somebody just woke up.


Cousin Molly dressed up Nora during our visit.


I don't believe she minded. Molly even put the bow in her hair.


Henry, Willis, and cousin Liam.


The dog and I don't always see eye to eye, but he and my kids sure do.


Yes. His head is on a pillow. Isn't he nice to share some couch with her? Sheesh.


Henry, post nap.


He's super silly, now . . .


. . . and charming to boot.


"Haaaa!"

They're pretty fun—even if I can't keep Henry out of the toilet.

Ordinary? Famous? Awesome!

While watching Phineas and Ferb in the mornings (as we typically do—GASP!), there is an occasional music video from the current teeny-teens that are prevalent on the Disney Channel. There's one song that I've heard a couple of times, now, and it's the song, "Ordinary Girl," by Hannah Montana (Miley Cyrus).

Every time I hear it, I can't help but think, "So . . . famous girls want to be 'ordinary,' and ordinary girls want to be 'famous.' Hmm."

Isn't that how it is?

I don't know many girls that are between Miley's age (young) and mine (old) that are okay with what/who they are right in the 'now.' They all seem to be putting their weight on the person they plan to be (that's going to make a difference one day, by golly), and in the meantime, the person they are falls by the wayside.

Stop it, girls.

That is all.

Very Yes

Henry slept until 5:30 this morning, and I couldn't be more thrilled!

I know that doesn't sound like a desired waking time to the outer world, but I can assure you, this is a welcomed change of events.

I can't get my hopes up that this will continue, though. This kid is a crap-shoot when it comes to sleeping.

I'll take it and run with it today, though!

Hey, It's Okay Tuesday!

I got this idea from her who got it from her. Now, you get to suffer.

Hey, It's Okay . . .

. . . to not even consider the fact that your 2.5-year-old might just freak out at a matinée of How to Train Your Dragon because it's much, much louder; much more in-your-face; and much, much scarier than you could've possibly imagined (from a sensitive, little person's perspective—I had no idea she was that sensitive).

. . . to be both sad and laughing when that same 2.5-year-old screams/cries at inopportune times, "Can you turn off the TV, now?" while watching said movie.

. . . to want to kick yourself for not grabbing your stuff (purse, diaper bag, etc.) when you have to cross the entire movie theater with your two screaming, scared kids to just get them out of the room for a minute. (That girl did NOT want to go back in there. Henry was just being, well, Henry.)

. . . to also want to kick yourself because you made your pregnant friend (and her two kids) late to the movie, too—just to completely disrupt their enjoyment of the movie. (Sorry, friend.)

. . . to be shocked at the price of fabric these days. (I know. This doesn't really fit. I stopped at Jo-Ann's on my way out of the cinema fiasco. I have something I have to do by this weekend.)

. . . to want to scrap an entire day and have a do-over. Sheesh.

. . . to have mercilessly cursed Twitter only to join it . . . and then realize that you're, like, some sort of antique because you don't do this from your phone. Oh, and don't forget that still being overwhelmed by it is evidence of antiquity as well. I am an old soul.

Twitter

So, I contemplated signing up for Twitter today, and this is what happened.



I think it might be a sign. There must not be room for this moi.

---

I actually did create an account. I just couldn't do anything once I made one. It's like I broke Twitter. Consider me that whale, and the little birdies are all my homies who have left Facebook for Twitter's, um, pastures.So . . . I don't know. I still don't know if I'm serious about this or not. I don't use the internet on my phone, so it may not even make sense. I just wanted to see why everybody's so twitterpated with Twitter. I have yet to find the reason(s). I didn't get far enough before it kicked me out and called me a big, fat whale. So, we'll see . . .

A Link to Anne's (thefitbridesmaid) Body Image Post

I like this girl, and I think she's right on.

And, have I mentioned that I totally want to have formal dance training? This makes me want to do it even more!

Hey, It's Okay Tuesday!

I like this girl.I don't know this girl, but I'd probably like her, too. Those two are responsible for this mess.

Fire it up!

Hey, It's Okay . . .

. . . to go a little batty when people use the phrase, "I know, right?"

Most times, it's just said like this on a Facebook wall, "i know right lol."

When people say it like this, "I know. Right?" I can deal with that, but there's still an element of wrongness.

. . . to go a lot batty when people use the phrase, "Just sayin'."

It's typically used when someone does a slam, and they're trying to soften the blow. For example: "Your face looks like it got slapped with a big, ugly stick a few times. Just sayin'."

. . . to go a bit batty (again) when someone says, "This makes me giggle."

I'm guessing people say that because it sounds cute. I don't know. I just know that I never hear anyone say, "This made me chuckle," or, "This made me snort," or, "I just laughed milk through my nose," or, "That made me cackle," or, "I fake-laughed a little. You're welcome," or, "I'm lizzing right now."


(Thank you, Liz Lemon.)

Maybe I'm alone on this one, but I thought giggling was reserved for, like, little kids and the munchkins from The Wizard of Oz. You know—because of their little voices. I think of giggling as, like, a high-pitched thing.

Well, here's what Wiktionary says about it: "A high-pitched, silly laugh; Amusement; To laugh gently or in a high-pitched voice; to laugh in a silly or giddy way."

Hmm . . .

. . . to be completely wrong about how the pouring shield attachment for an Artisan KitchenAid standing mixer is supposed to be used . . . for five years.

. . . to have to use a calculator to determine age. It's not that I'm so old (which some would argue), but it's more that I haven't been able to do that math in my head beyond the age of 25.

. . . to want to have some sort of formal dance training (for the first time) now that I'm nearly 30 years old. I don't even care what type of dance it is. I just want to do it. The more mobile, the better, I think.

. . . to love the show Phineas and Ferb in a completely guiltless fashion. That show is good, people.

. . . to desperately want to watch Season 4 of Mad Men right now but recognize that waiting until it comes out on DVD will serve the soul a lot better. (We can watch it all at once, then, and on our time table.)

. . . to not really believe that this guy is 11 months old today.