Maybe yes, maybe no.

We're headed out the door in a few minutes to go to L.A. to help my dad pack.  He's selling the properties there, and relocating to be closer to work.  And we're helping him.  This time, FOR MONEY. 

I was thinking about this here blog and realized that it's been many moons since I posted.  I'm seriously considering dumping my blog altogether, since I don't seem to be able to come up with anything to say.  It's definitely something I'm going to really think about, especially since this blog ain't free.

My big dilemma right now is my upcoming 10 year reunion.  On one hand, I want to go and see all the shitty little popular kids that were so mean to me, to show them that HEY!  I grew boobies!  and HEY!  my kids are cuter than yours.... but that really drags me back into the whole highschoolsuckedandwhywouldIwanttogothroughallthatagain thing.  There *are* people that I'd like to see, though, so maybe I'll go. 

I haven't had enough coffee yet to successfully be coherent, so I'll sign off.  I'm taking my laptop with me, on the off chance that moving hilarities will ensue and give me something to blog about.  *wink*

Early Birthday Post.

Dear Phoebe,

In two days, you will be two years old.  Just between you and me kid, you're lucky you made it this far. 

I remember the jokes I used to make when I was pregnant with you, that you were a kung-fu fighter, that you liked to dance, and that you were STRONG.  You kicked my ass every day, especially if I was at work and sitting down for too long.  My ribs *still* hurt.

You still are a kung-fu fighter, and you still love to dance, and you are a very strong little girl.  You climb on damn near everything, causing my heart to jump into my throat, but you love having your adventures.  I wasn't kidding when I told you, "If you don't stop jumping off the back of the couch I will glue your bike helmet to your damn head."  I mean it, kid.

There are things that I never want to forget about you at this age:  the way your eyes look in the morning when you first wake up... the way you curl your finger around your nose when you suck your thumb... the way your hair is slightly curly and oh so very sunbleached...the way you pet Charlie's head when she's nursing... the way you rub your head on your Daddy's leg and whisper, "I love you so much."

One of my favorite things is when you're sitting in Daddy's lap, and I call to you both, so you both turn and look at me....... with the same face.  A big face, and a little face, a man and a little girl, both looking at me with those beautiful eyes, with the same exact expression.  It makes my heart skip a beat, and I have to laugh out loud when I see it.

You are my daredevil, my whirling dervish.  You are my peculiar, wonderful, silly little monkey.  We are so lucky to have you, and love you so much.  Happy second birthday, to my favorite toddler in the world.

~Mommy

Family outing.

I have all these ideas running around in my head for all these kickass projects (stuff for me, stuff for the kids, stuff for the store), but I have actual getting-up-off-of-my-ass-and-doing-anything-about-it-itis.  So, there you have it.  I'll just sit here and think of all the wonderful, fun, neato burrito things I could do.... and then I'll change the channel, and could someone grab me the Cheetos?

I made us leave the house on Wednesday.  Yup, our whole basketball team got out of the house, and imposed ourselves on the outside world.  Did you hear the screaming from where you are?

We used to go to this outdoor craft market type thingie-dealio (which is called Downtown Wednesday Night, or DWN) all the time.  I worked right around the corner from DWN, and Marissa had her school not too far away, and we lived, um, in Riverside.  So we used to go and spend money on ridiculous things (like funnel cake, and bouncy rides, and bubble necklaces) fairly regularly.

We were an hour and half late to meet our room mate down there (red flag much?), so we caffeinated ourselves and met DWN with a firm resolve, and a little cash I had squirreled away.  We were armed with a sling, a diaper bag, my purse, two sippy cups with juice, and a potty.  We could take on the WORLD.

We immediately hit the kid section (I know.  We're damn smart.) and the kids did the bouncy house, slide ride, sno-cone thang.  Full of confidence, we were, giving our kids sugar and ice like that.  We had to ask Phoebe every six seconds if she had to pee, because we were worried she'd be too excited to tell us on her own.  She pulled that charming grab-and-pull-my-vagina-dance, which is a telltale sign of impending urine, so at least we were observant enough to avoid an accident.  Go team potty!

We walked around, let the girls look at all the cool crap, bought some t-shirts, grabbed some funnel cake, and trucked around the potty like we were the coolest people there.  Bryan, our room mate, and I all took turns herding the children, and shouting, "Stop that before I break your fingers!" at regular intervals.

It was fun, but exhausting.  The kids were really well behaved (those inappropriate threats of physical injury were just for kicks, yo), and I'm glad that we went.  It struck me, though, how hard it is to have 3 kids and do... well... anything.  I know it will get easier once Charlie gets older, but I don't know how people do it, especially those moms who take their kids out of the house *GASP!* by themselves.  I'd like to go out more often, I really would, but for now I'll settle for practice runs.  In the front yard.  That's good enough for me.

Stupid, damn, giant, asshole bike!

I think I broke my bike.  Dammit.

One of the problems that I'm having with my bike is that it's huge.  As in, when I'm sitting on the seat (in the lowest possible position), I can barely touch the ground.  Seriously?  I mean, I'm not a giant, or anything, but I'm fairly tall, and it's wacky that this bike is so big.  Plus, it's really a guy's bike, so that bar across the top?  Not so good for delicate vaginas.

In any case, because I like my vagina and don't want to hurt it, I have to be very careful when I hop off my bike.  I have to be even *more* careful when Phoebe's on the back of it.  So, it's not like I can just let the damn thing fall down in the driveway whilst covering my girlie parts with my hands and scream about the injustice of it all.  Even with a helmet, that's just really mean to Phoebe.

I usually pull up in the driveway, apply the brakes, and kind of hop off to one side.  I did this the other night.  Only, it didn't work.

The driveway is on an incline (duh) and as I was applying pressure to the brakes the bike kept sliding back down the driveway, anyway.  As in, OH SHIT, I can't hold onto this damn thing, and I can't pull my other leg over the side because the bike is rolling away, and watch out for my VAGINA!

The bike kept slipping, and I couldn't stop it, and it started to fall.  So, being a hero, I put myself under the bike, and eased it down on top of me so as kind of to break Phoebe's fall.  Sonofabitch really hurt, but Phoebe only gently bumped the ground, so I consider it a victory.

I just kind of chilled like that, in the driveway, laying on the ground under the bike while Phoebe howled, "GET ME OUT!" until Bryan came out of the house to rescue us.  We pulled the kid off the bike, shoved the bike in the garage, and then I pouted.

Upon inspection the next day, I realized that I think I effed up the chain, because now the bike will not roll backwards.  As in, you can pull and shove and curse all you want, but that bike will not budge.

I have a thoroughly nasty purple bruise on my left leg, and I totally dropped my bike in the driveway (in full view of the neighbors across the street [that I hate, incidentally] who probably snickered to themselves in glee), and my bike won't roll backwards, and the damn giant bike is so giant and big and unwieldy that I can't fit it in the car to take it to the shop to get it looked at.

I'm very mad at the stupid huge bike, and I might have to beat it up with a baseball bat and throw it in the street.  I think I'll let Phoebe help me.

Wishlist.

I want to knit these.  I think they're freakin' frackin' adorable, and I want a pair.  I've never knit socks before, but I think I can tackle it.  I *think*.

I also want to knit this.  But, if you think I'm spending over $16 a skein on this yarn, you're crazy.  So, I probably won't.  But I found this, and it's not too pricey, and really pretty.  Being a tightwad, though, I think I'll just admire it from afar.

I also really want this yarn, and the price really isn't too bad.  This yarn would be beautiful for *so* many projects.  Or, just to hold it in my lap and pet it like.... a pet.

Remember that sweater that I knit for my friend's baby shower?  We ended up being really late to the shower, because I had to finish up the sweater, so I didn't get a chance to snap pics before we left.  But, my friend brought the sweater over last week so I could take a picture and show you all, proudly, my first knit baby sweater.