To come...

Ok, this week, I'm gonna hit it hard. I have several posts I'm working on, and, of course, I've got to slap some Christmas photos on here.

But, at the moment, I'm still out of town with family. We're heading back soon. Though will miss this special time we've had, Ansley and I both miss Paul (who was unable to spend more than Christmas day with us), and we miss our beds, and I'm sure Ansley misses the puppies. Ok, so maybe that's me, but I think it's probably more socially acceptable if I say she misses them.

We hope you all had a blessed Christmas, and look forward to sharing ours with you!

A Sparkle

So, for those of you that are just sitting on the edge of your seats wondering what is going on, I think I'll give you just a sneak peek just to shed a little light on recent circumstances.

Basically, I've just been overwhelmed. But, what it really comes down to is that I'm selfish and things haven't been simple, and so I've felt overwhelmed.

For instance, after 13 months sans toothers, the kiddo has decided to get them. ALL.AT.ONCE. Which leaves me wondering why Dante never mentioned this as the 11th circle of hell.  My conclusion? He obviously was without children, because if he were to have them, he certainly would have included additional circles. Forget the thieves and murders. That circle is nothin'. Come visit teething, INSANE diaper rash, irritability, lack of sleep and learning the word no, then come talk to me, m'kay?

I've had a bad attitude at work, and of course, it has lasting consequences.  Top that off with a not-so-wonderful employee review, and I've not wanted to be there.

And, I'm really not doing well with the hubs working 2nd shift. Luckily, Hopefully, the hubs will be moving to first shift in a few short months. I know that it means that Ansley will be with a sitter more than she is now, but I really think it will be a major improvement for our family.

And, the last stress? I totally brought upon myself. I thought it would be a great idea to MAKE presents for Christmas. Which would be, if I started more than two weeks ago. And, I'm just not finished. And, honestly, I get home and just decide to crash, er... play with the kiddo for a few hours before bedtime. Except this week, which I've opted to spend those after-work hours with my sis and brother-in-law.  Totally worth it (hopefully she'll agree when she gets an unfinished Christmas present).

But, there has been a silver lining. I'll share just a sneak peek, and I'm planning a review VERY soon (if I was a cool person, I would say that I had a giveaway to go with the review, but I'm just not that awesome).

So, behold. The glory of Modern Bird Studios: 



GAH!! Is that not pee-your-pants beautiful???  For those that care, please don't think I neglected your opinions on photos. I sent several pics for Greg (the artist hand of MBS) to work with, and this one was the finished product.  ::Squee!!!::

Dealing

I'll be back, I promise. But right now, there's just so much going on, I'm struggling to deal appropriately. Christmas, work, a short visit with my dear sister and lack of quality time with the hubs have sent me into a bit of a headspin.

Interestingly enough, it was just about this time last year that I was overwhelmed with anxiety.

So, if you pray, do so, and if you have some extra puppies and rainbows available, I would appreciate those as well.

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I'm a sneak

Ok. This is truly a confession. Specifically because I KNOW I have family members who read this blog, and it may totally change your opinion of me.

I'm a snooper.  AKA, I like to locate my gifts.

Before I was engaged, I found the receipt for my engagement ring. Hmm. This meant that when the now-hubs and I were in Maine for fall break and I had a feeling he was planning on proposing, I took a quick sneak to see if I could find the ring.

I didn't. But I did try.

And, if I have a gift under the tree, I'm a shaker and squeezer.  But, then again, the hubs bought me a throw blanket last year and didn't put it in a box. That's practically a gimme.

I would like to point out that I currently know the location of my Christmas gift. HOWEVER, I have NOT peeked. And I've only thought about it once. Ok, maybe twice. BUT I HAVEN'T LOOKED.

One time when I was younger, I knew a gift under the tree to be a movie that I specifically requested from my grandmother (she is so by-the-list when it comes to Christmas gifts).  I had a friend over and wanted to watch the movie. So I opened it, watched it, and rewrapped it.

Pretty sure Santa opted not to come that year.

Did we Step Out?

Oh yes we did. And we sure had a wonderful time.

On Saturday, the kiddo and I hit up a fabulous Christmas party. A volunteer worker at our office treated us to a homemade Italian dinner. When I say "homemade," I don't mean my type of "homemade."

You know, Ragu Spaghetti Sauce with mushrooms ::check::
Angel hair pasta ::check::
Loaf of Italian bread ::check::


However, I do add an extra can of Italian diced tomatoes, because we like our sauce chunky (that sounds so weird in every possible way). Does that count for anything?

Nope. I mean, homemade to the bare basics!  They made the noodles themselves! And, homemade bread! To.Die.For. (Ok, so I understand. Technically, for it to be entirely homemade, they would probably need to have grown the wheat, milked the cow for the cheese, mashed the tomatoes, and all that other jazz. But, seriously, making the noodles is more than I can even think about doing.)

Anywho, no pic, because the only pics I can take of me with the kiddo are those middle-school-hold-out-your-cell-phone-style. And that just isn't cutting it anymore.  I have a super nice camera, and it is only fair that I use it.

Besides, Ansley wore the same dress she wore to last week's party. Different party + different people = same dress. When you paid as much as I did for a dress, you got to squeeze it for all it is worth.  In fact, I normally don't let the kid feed herself if she is wearing it.  I'm a little OCD.

The hubs laughs at me because Ansley has SO many clothes, yet I seem to dress her in the same stuff.  I wore my knee-high boots, which I ADORE, but are a few years old and may be on their last leg, er... heel. I toped it off with a dark wash demin skirt that I scored at Goody's before they busted, a red simple t-shirt from American Eagle and a white pull-over sweater. Festive, no?

So, here's the thing. We're going out of town in a few days, and I'll be sure to get some pics. At least of the kiddo. And, maybe I'll store up for my SOS posts.

Is that even fair?

Please don't unfriend me.

I play games on facebook.

Not like the scrabble or boggle games.  But those really annoying games that post stuff to the news feeds. Yup. I'm talking about Farmville. And Frontierville.

In my defense, I try to only post things to my profile once (if that much) a day, and typically will only do 3 so it groups them and only one shows on the wall.

Whew. I'm glad that's out there.

::Yawn::

I'm waning. Like, seriously.  I'm running out of words. Out of stories. Out of time.

I LOVE to write. By far, one of my favorite things to do.  I wasn't a stellar news reporter, but I got to be pretty good at writing stories.  My only problem was that many times, I wasn't too interested in what I had to write about. And, I think that's what makes a good writer: the ability to write a comprehensive, interesting story in something you yourself are not at all interested in.

Like a goat. That has 4 babies. Apparently, that is a rarity. And me traveling about 45 minutes to snap some pics and write a feature? Also a rarity. But it did happen.

I've also written stories about accidents that have killed toddlers, schools that are over crowded, students that hang out with senior citizens and dozens about a small local town whose board meetings are full of so much drama they are only rivaled by a good episode of Jerry Springer.

But even with years of training in writing, and a mind full of thoughts, sometimes it's just hard to put something one paper, er..., the computer screen.

We all have those days. Some of us seem to have those months. Just a few minutes ago, I was checking through my blogger feed and noticed many that haven't been updated in months. Some good reads, that I'm left wondering, "I wonder what's going on with that kid."

And, I ask myself, "I wonder when life will become too much for me that I can't find the time and sit to write. To share in some of the laughs, and just to vent about what's going on."

I know that this blog isn't a regular read to many, but it is to a few (hi Mom, Crystal and Amanda!). And it's a way for family, spread all across the nation, to keep up, since I'm so horribly a failure at communicating via phone. And, sometimes, the humor and wit comes out, but other times, there's a lull.

But that doesn't at all mean that I'm giving it up. So, unless you no longer see my blog in your feed, I'm still around. Because when I'm done, this will be too.

P.S.- I had to go back and edit this post several times because I kept calling the blog feed the "feeder." And those sentences just seemed weird.

We stepped out. Twice!

I hate pictures of myself. Have I said that enough? But, oh wells. Here goes.

Ansley:
Sweater dress from Baby Gap
red tights from Old Navy
Black shoes, thrifted

Here's a better look at her dress



I love this dress!

On the Momma:
Cardigan, Old Navy
Three-quarter boat neck top, Um, yeah, Old Navy

Saturday Ansley and I took a trip to the in-laws for a baby shower. It meant 4-hours round trip, but it was worth it. Ansley seemed to have fun with her cousins.  She doesn't get a lot of time with kiddos around her age, so it was pretty cool to see her interacting with other kids.

We also enjoyed a day out on Sunday:



Ansley
Heart-print corduroy dress, Old Navy Brand, thrifted
pink tights, Target

Momma
Scarf, ages old (I'm talking, high school old)
Sweater, Aeropostale
Tank, JC Penny
Jeans, Aeropostale

Sunday was actually a pretty lazy day, but I opted for a picture cause we've missed a few SOS posts.

And, honestly? I'm running low on inspiration as of late. Maybe it's the holidays, and all the hustle that comes with it. Who knows.

Happy Monday!

My confession.

Whatcha think? Three posts in one day???

Ah, the miracle of scheduling posts! ;o)

Ok, so, here's my Flame-Free Friday Confession.

I am often cramped for time around dinner, and my kiddo eats like a machine. So, I frequently serve her a healthy meal of....

Chef Boyardee and bananas.

Were're talking, like, three nights a week.

It's her favorite. This has to qualify for the "How-can-you-let-your-child-eat-THAT-so-much" award.

I'm ready for my acceptance speech.

I'm a trend setter.

I just know it.

So, I'm starting a little somethin' new. Join if you like, laugh if you choose, but just don't flame.

Back when I was on The Bump tri boards, and this whole mommy-blog business of mine got started, I used to LOVE Fridays.

For those of you who may have frequented The Bump, you know that most of the time, it was full of snark. Whether it was the girl who made herself vomit over consuming a fingernail-full of feta cheese while pregnant, the girl who felt conception happen, OR, the lovely girl that wondered if she should take birth control while pregnant because she didn't want to end up with a set of Irish twins (wow, I can remember nearly peeing myself with laughter each time these girls posted!), we all dished out the snark, whether on the interwebs or in our minds.

However, Fridays were a time of confession. Flame-free confession. I loved logging on first thing and finding the thread. It could keep me busy all day.  Some of the confessions were funny (um, I'm still in my PJs...from three days ago), and some were a little more serious (I'm really mad because...). The point was it was a place to vent, to laugh, or simply to confess.

I've decided that Fridays on my blog will rehash the FFFC.  As I said, join if you like.    But, seriously, if you are going to play, link up!

What is happening to me?

Ya'll, I've got it. Bad.

Before I start the post (I guess, technically, it's already started, but, just go with it), I should probably throw out a disclaimer.  I love where I am right now in life. I love my husband more than the average high schooler is in love with Lil Wayne or Ke$ha (seriously? Ke$ha???). My daughter is a barrel on monkeys, and so much more fun.  But...

So last night, we were busting out the Christmas decorations. I LOVE this time of the year (even if Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday and I refuse to move on to Christmas until the wishbone has been snapped and the football played, I LOVE this time of year).  But, it wasn't cheerful. It wasn't full of our traditional "Elf" followed by rockin' some Christmas tunes, all while sprinkling holiday cheer all throughout the house, including the back of the toilet (yeah, that's right. If you're gonna sit on my toilet, you're gonna enjoy some Yuletide cheer while doing so).

We went to pick out our tree from the local home improvement store. And, I felt rushed. Which is NOT cool.

For those of you that may sport the faux tree, you probably don't fully understand the task of picking a real tree. I'm not knockin' you at all. I simply mean that if your tree is a little bare in one area, you can bend the metal infused branches and voila! Your tree is full!

For those of us that opt for a large, moulting, dead tree (hmm, doesn't sound so magical when you put it that way) beautiful, crisp, pine-scented frazier- or douglas (I'm not a hater)- fir, finding a tree is the first battle of many that you fight.

Picking a tree? A LONG process, often involving multiple men to hold the 10-foot-trees side by side, turning, modeling, trading trees, moving to the 8 footers, turning, swapping, switching, looking, leaving, coming back, wash, rinse and repeat. That's the way I roll.

But, last night, not so much. The hubs insists that he was not trying to pressure me into "picking a stupid tree and leaving" (quotes mine). And, I believe him. However, even if it wasn't his intention to pressure me, his demeanor, along with the snotty-nosed whining kiddo that was trying to climb up her daddy's leg, caused me to make a hasty choice. Let me just add that it is a good thing that I had great friends in high school whose only "pressures" on me involved participating in some dumb skit (say, dancing to NKOTB on video) or buying matching shoes (yeah, I was a nerd.). Actually, who am I kidding? I love NKOTB even to this day.

Where was I? Oh, yeah. The tree.  Which, is currently still on my front porch because I didn't get enough cleaned to bring it in last night.  But, what's my point (I'm actually asking myself the same thing. Right.Now.)

The point is, as I was unpacking the Christmas tubs, I was thinking "what IN THE BEAUTIFUL WIDE WORLD convinced me that this was  beautiful decoration? I'm not a fan." Last night, I felt ashamed to decorate my house with said decorations.

Like I said before, I LOVE my hubs. And he is totally a kid at heart, which warms my soul. Just the other night, he was laughing so hard at Home Alone, I seriously thought he was going to stop breathing. I really do love it. Many of our Christmas decorations reflect our youth, and the excitement that comes with the season. We have very colorful, glittery, Santas all over the house. We've got partially melted snowmen, nutcrackers, nativity scenes with little children as the characters (actually, now that I think about it, those are a little more disturbing than simply being tacky).

My tastes have changed. I think I'm finally growing up! I'm beginning to like classic decorations like burlap and lace. And white lights that don't blink. And having a CLEAN house! And Willow People, of course:



Beautiful, no?  I like the simple things, without a lot of sparkles.

And I felt horribly guilty. Because I felt like it meant that I was not thankful for what I have.  WHICH IS NOT THE CASE. Our current decor is very special to me, as it was collected during our first years of marriage and is very representative of where we were at the time. But, I think it's time I finally grew up. And, I understand that just like my tastes didn't change overnight, I'm not going to get where I want to be quickly either. I've got to look to a very wise man for direction:

I got it one piece at a time, 

and it didn't cost me a dime.

Thank you so much for that advice, Johnny Cash.  I'll take it (minus the whole stealing a car one piece at a time). Oh, and, I'll pay for it.

So, I invite you to join me on this journey. This journey of shedding my glittery Santa figurines (along with my Aeropostal clothes, which, it happens to be pretty embarrassing when you are wearing the same shirt that one of your middle school students is wearing) and stepping into a more clean, classic holiday look. Basically, it's finally time for me to put on my big girl pants.

Shall we continue?

This RARELY happens.

Ya'll, I'm at a loss. A loss for words. I don't have anything to write about. Maybe I should say I don't have anything to complain about!

The kiddo has slept the last two nights.  I'm not counting my chickens before they've hatched, but this is a good start.  She's been going down relatively easy, and sleeping right on until about 8:15! Fabulous, really.  Only, I'm thinking it's a total fluke.

She didn't get to bed before 9 those nights. In fact, due to an office Christmas party that- as awesome as free dinner and a Christmas bonus is- went a little long. We're talking three hours, putting the kiddo in bed around 9:45.

Secondly, winter has hit with a vengeance. I'm talking 70 degrees on Thanksgiving, and 42 degrees less than a week later. We've also had two days of cold, pouring rain. Which means at 6:20, when the sun is normally peeking through the clouds and warming the cheeks of my little chipmunk, her room has remained drab and dim.

However, she hasn't been waking at midnight, which is where most of our troubles originated.  Remember when I complained about her waking at 6:20?  Well, I'll take it. As long as it means Ansley sleeps from the hours of 12 a.m. to 4 a.m.

AND, she's stayed in her bed those nights!  Squee!!! But, like I said, I'm trying not to get too excited, because she can easily pull a fast one on me!