Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Thank You Voters

I want to take a minute to thank every single reader who voted and continues to vote for One-Sided Momma on the Circle of Moms contest (button on right column of blog):

We have remained in the mid-forties for some time now and even though it's a Top 25 contest, in my heart we made it.  You know why?

Go take a look.  As of a few minutes ago, we were listed right under Kelle Hampton's blog:  Enjoying the Small Things which as I've mentioned a few (thousand) times before is my all time favorite.  Kelle is an inspiring writer, excellent photographer, creative mom and brave fashionista.

So, I applaud you and your perseverance in helping us get to be her contest neighbor.

I'm thinking Kelle has no idea she's even nominated in this contest but the fact that we are listed next to her is pretty much the same as finding yourself sitting next to Sting in First Class on a flight to Rio. 

The contest runs March 7 but as far as I'm concerned...we win, you guys!  We may not ever make it to the Top 25 but honestly, I'm not sure that matters one bit when we all just shared peanuts and pretzels with Gordon Sumner.

Thank you, my family and my friends.  Thank for the the thrill of competing next to people I admire and moms who inspire me daily.

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Angry Ego Sprite

This is my second week of weight training in the gym with a buddy.

Basically, we pant for three miles on the elliptical first, b.s. over the water fountain for a few minutes, then hit the weight room to make faces I wouldn't even want my husband to see.

A trainer helps us out on Thursdays.  She is a triathlete and has the lack of body fat to prove it.  She had my respect based on her quadriceps alone.  Girl can rock a workout skirt.  My goal is to simply not have to wear a workout skirt as a bathing suit this summer.  From the way it feels as of today, she is the person to get me there.

It feels great to be doing something good for my body again.  As moms we give to our children so much of ourselves that we are left muttering profanities at our mildewed dish-sponge as a result.

When our energy flows away from ourselves, I believe we anger the little Ego Sprite within that grows sharp horns and fiery eyes that don't take "maybe later," for an answer.

These feisty mates know what's best for us so they shove apples in our face instead of peanut butter and jelly crusts.  They toss us in the shower in the morning then apply make-up to our aging eyelids.  They scream in their wicked sopranos,  "Zose faded black yoga pants you vant to vear because your jeans are so eechy?  Yess?  Vell, zey make you look like zee chalkboard butt." Heh Heh Heh.

Shut it, Ego Sprite.

I hear you.  I get it.  I'm on it.

I'm taking care of myself now so you can just pipe down there Sister.

We will be needing your services soon enough.  Spring wardrobe overhaul. Ten pair of khaki capri pants and multiple checkered(?!?)sleeveless shirts.  Perhaps an Old (ret.) Navy dress that hasn't been worn since 1999 for good measure.

But now I'm just showing off.

Let's just say you von't be disappointed.

Monday, February 27, 2012

Hungry for Green

I tried to sleep the weekend away but the sun wouldn't let me.  Sweet snippets of clear skies and warm rays pushing through the cold are making me so hungry for spring.  Like a seasonal teaser to get us interested in buying into the whole idea.  I'm in, spring.  Hook, line and sinker.

Last week we spent a lot of time tooling around outside which I am thankful for because today we are on the couches, curling up like puppies for body heat.  Three out of the four of us have now have Abby's stomach bug.  Andy's the only one free from Pepto pills so far.  He should find a BOQ to stay in to save himself and his belly. 

This too shall pass.  And when it does, I will miss days in my pjs with guilt-free TV and Girl Scout cookies that has been nothing but a welcome retreat. 

Until then, I'll be looking around for more hints that spring isn't that far off.

Hints being dropped by the buckets.

Buckets, I tell ya.



 This guy came along, sat down on a bench, and produced the most magical Gaelic songs with his flute.
It was the best soundtrack for an afternoon in the sun.  I hastened my nagging desire to request "My Heart Will Go On," with making sure all the fish Grayson and Abby caught were thrown back in.

They were.

Are you hungry for green too?

Thursday, February 23, 2012


Andy is on travel this week.  He left Tuesday morning to return tonight, well after we're all in bed.  That means he will have been gone for only three days and for some reason it feels like seven.

Sometimes I cannot believe we lived this way for eight months.  Seems impossible.  Where was I?  I rely so heavily on that garage door going up at dinner time that I plan my day around it.

Then when my brain settles into the solo mindset again, we are cruising at altitude and taking liberties to cut corners and act out:
  • I bought trays from the thrift store.  TV trays.  The kids and I haven't sat at the kitchen table all week!
  •  "Dinner" is technically not what I've been serving on those trays.
  • I got a speeding ticket yesterday.
  • Grayson "Windexed" all mirrors in the house.  Without Windex.
  • Abigail has been sleeping on Daddy's pillow since Monday.
  • Someone may or may not have shaved her legs in a day or two.  Or since Monday.
And our Piece de resistance happened.

Abby was home on Tuesday so we dreamed things up to do.  After an hour of tea parties, snuggling, picture drawing, I shuttled us in the car to go thrifting for an hour to find lemonade stand things.  We needed an objective, I was desperate to leave the house.  With an eagle eye she found a pitcher, faux lemons, and a flour sifter all in the same aisle.  We'll worry about the flour sifter later.  Abby was so tired I assumed she would be happy with the shopping as our main activity of the day.  Lord knows I was.

Then we picked Grayson up from school and the two kids got to chatting about what we did today.  Since it was spring like outside, I drove us to the park to soak in some sunshine.  Kids still chatting about this and that.  I tuned out, happy to eat my Trader Joe's lunch at a distance on a park bench.

Evidently, a mother should always listen because by 3pm the children were asking to leave the park to get home to set up their lemonade stand.

It was 3pm.  Does anyone feel like creating something out of nothing at 3pm?  Holy lemons, I did not.  Yet these two little people had consulted, developed, and masterminded the entire thing.   I just needed to carry things outside for them.  They did the rest.

First customers were these guys.

 Their sweet mom was driving past our house and stopped to patronize our stand.  Two shiny quarters later, we had lots of happy and the two boys had two very full cups of lemonade to balance on their laps for the car ride home.

Then we hit a slump.  3:30, 3:45, 4pm nobody.  I kept dropping hints to pack up shop and go inside.  Like, "I'm cold, let's go inside."  or "It's February, this is crazy."

Two teenagers on their bikes rode past our house.  Grayson yelled after them.  Yes, Grayson yelled after big kids.  That alone made the whole thing worth it.  "Lemonade for SALE!"

And they turned around, dug deep in their pockets and gave Grayson and Abby their first lesson on etiquette.  "You have a nice home, ma'am," the one with the swim team sweatshirt offered making small talk while Grayson nervously (yet so carefully) filled each cup without spilling one drop.  "Thanks, Kid.  Keep the change."

I felt like I was in a Lifetime movie.  You should've seen Grayson's face.  He thanked them quietly and very much looking at his shoes.  The big kids smiled and wished him luck.  I waved to them the kind of dorky mom wave they've seen a hundred times before.  I was thanking them for taking their time, for being so kind to my boy.


(Teenagers have always surprised me with their tender hearts and gracious understanding of the world.  This is why I fell in love with teaching literature to 10th graders.  The minute they identify with Hamlet's tortured soul or Juliet's lovelorn gaze, you know you are in the presence of growth.)    

And to think I was ready to pack up and go inside just because it was February.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Part Two: Dance/Tea Part-ay

To finish up our post from yesterday, I leave you with the pictorial from yesterday's festivities.

And to assure you that Andy was only mildly amused at the sight of his wife in a tutu.  I guess I will have to raise my game if I want any reaction out of him.

Oh, I also want to give a big Thank You to everyone who is participating in the voting contest.  We have been holding steady at #44 for two days because of you and I'm so tickled to be up that high!  Thank you for taking the time to click here and scroll there.  Again, please know we will be hard pressed to collect the number of votes it takes to rank in the top 25 but I really don't care about that.  Not sure what the point of me running is, other than a little silent competition but I will admit, it's kinda fun.

Ok, I'll shut up now and post the pics as promised.

Happy Fat Tuesday, you guys!

    P.S.  I promise to work on the focus of my pics.  The eye is still not 100% and when I focus with my left eye the pics look to be focused.  It's not until I download the pics do I see how fuzzy everything is.  Send me the bill for the Advil you had to take while viewing these things and I will do better asap.

Monday, February 20, 2012

Part One: Impromptu Dance/Tea Part-ay

I don't like leaving the day on a bad note. 

Let me try again with an intro to a little celebration we had this morning.  We were celebrating Daddy's day off and Mommy's morning in with Abby.

Seemed like the perfect excuse to invite some friends to tea.

where fancy scarves were donned by all the ladies.

And only the finest jewelry could be seen.


Everyone had assigned seats.

 And 37 year olds were scolded by their daughters for their bawdy attire.

More pictures to come later but right now I'd like to go join the soccer game going on in our front yard.  

Perhaps The Daddy will be distracted by my leopard print tutu.

Perhaps I should worry if he is.