A Beautiful Day

If we didn't have T I'm not sure what we'd do

Is it me, or do the holidays seem exponentially tougher this year? I'm sure the bathroom remodel doesn't help matters. Nor do ice storms. Nor does having a 2 year-old who's now throwing about, oh, let's say 20 tantrums a day. But damn. This Santa is more than a little nervous about being able to get it all done. I'm sweatin over here.

Um, why do we do this to ourselves again?

And where is the best place to purchase a Playstation 3 (no, not for the boys)??? Anyone?

A Quickie

We're here in our new abode and once the light construction in the kitchen is finished, things will be good. Make that very good. This is a nice house. Me likey.

As for time to blog, hah! I'm lucky if I shower.

Smacky stood up yesterday, precariously hanging on to the top of his beaded wire toy for a wobbly 25 seconds before he decided, as he sometimes arbitrarily does, that it was time to sit down. Of course he didn't get up to stand on his own...he had some help from the grownups to get to the upright position, along with some help on where to put his hands for optimum balance. But once there, he knew he was on his own. The sparkle in his eyes and the grin of wonderment on his face told the whole story. Wanderlust has set in on my little Smackaroo. It's only a matter of time now before the chaos that is my world multiplies exponentially. I'm fairly sure that I'm pretty tired now...chasing a mobile toddler can only amplify that, no?

I received my first Christmas card of the season today. Cripes...yet another reminder of things I need to do.

And, oh yeah...I've been asked to moderate a fairly popular infertility support message board. I'm flattered as heck but am seriously hesitant about the time commitment involved. I'm gonna think about that while I unpack and desperately try to find my Ugg boots and my cell phone charger (you don't know how much you love a thing until it goes missing in a sea of boxes).

Ciao.

Still Moving

I'm still here, packing, cleaning, and tending to the not-so-wee one (as Simon expands in size he's becoming exponentially more dense). My eyes feel like sandpaper and my back is achey. I yearn for rest and relaxation and am choosing to trust that the universe at large will grant me this simple luxury at some point in the near future.
As I write the wriggly human medicine ball I call my son is next to me is putting in a superb effort at fighting off sleep...ah, the irony. If only he knew. Enjoy it now, Smacky, while you can.

Sal and I worked at his parent's restaurant today...there was a holiday parade to welcome Santa to the city and we brought Simon along and pitched in to help with the crowds. I met some interesting people, including one of our new neighbors! Turns out this couple isn't nearly as snobby as the others we had met- they were friendly, sweet, and down to earth. We even talked block party. They have me feeling much better about our decision to live in Wannabeville. Maybe they're not all wannabes after all.

I hear my husband upstairs packing. Simon is out like a light.

Sigh. Methinks I can no longer procrastinate the yuckiness. Time to go shred my knuckles on a few more boxes.

Next time you hear from me, I will be blissfully writing from my new computer station in my new home.

Hi Janice!

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PS What's up with post-partum irregular periods? When can this 40-year-old expect to get her menstrual groove back?