Hipster

It just occurred to me, while I was making tomorrow mornings coffee that I was wearing yoga pants AND I actually did real, live yoga today.  And...AND got a juicery drink.  Who am I?  This, of course, is said in jest; but also a very curious and open ended question.  So a big gritty kale juice cheers to new beginnings. 

Would you keep reading?

"Hi mom".."Hi honey" she said, barely looking up from her lap top screen.  She was sitting at the kitchen table. Her petite frame practically hidden with the monitor.  Then there was a silence, she never knew how badly she would wish she filled.  Mom was gone in a minute.  No one saw it coming, no one knew why and no one ever would. 

Looking back there was a certain sharpness that had been fading.  The once beautiful, witty, bright woman was now directed solely by lists.  She had no memory of where she was supposed to go, what to do or recall of where she had been unless written down on a list of some sort. 

May 3, 2017.  The five year old meanders into the kitchen on a quest to fill her belly and the ear of whom ever would actively listen.  Marie looked at the child and thought..holy shit.  Is this my kid?  So big!  When did she start walking?  Was I there?  Anyway..wonder what it wants. 

Time

Has it really been so long? It's a little hard to wrap my head around just how fast it is going. Time is a funny thing, where did it come from? Where is it going? It is a constant part of our lives. Too fast, too slow, not enough of it, too much of it, time to go, time to do this, time to do that, too soon, too late, give me a minute (translation - I hope you forget what you wanted me to do before I finish my current task).

My dear reader, I'm sorry it has been so long, both for you and for me. In a post of long ago, that was where this blog originally came from, there was a check engine light. Yesterday, while on a trip to the Rite Aid to get infant Tylenol and wine (Gus medicine and Megan's medicine), low and behold ..a light, this time an orange wrench appeared on the dash. That is when, it made me realize it was time to start writing again.

So here we are, 2011. Maddy is 2.5 and a very sweet girl with an increasing number of age appropriate bursts. Gus is 13 mo and a delightful, pretty mellow guy. He has a deep passion for the word no and all things that he can shove in his mouth. It is fun to watch them play together and acknowledge each other. They go to 'school' three days a week while I continue to do home care. Madelyn loves it and is an Owlet, where her BFF is a young man named Mason, who is referenced often in our home. Gus just moved up to the Fawns (prompt leather jacket and jukebox) and is transitioning well from the infant room. Chris continue to work very hard to find new business, maintain old and keep the doors of Benchmark Incentives open. I almost forgot to include Millie dog, Deedle to some, who is so good with the kids and still, admittedly, does not get the attention she deserves.

At this very moment Chris is outside watering the new rink in the back yard. Maddy and Gus are playing in her room quietly, which says to me, stop typing and go investigate, as the quiet has been too long for anything that does not require a deep cleaning and/or child protective services.

Welcome back

Two to 3

There is a lot of money spent on diapers in this household. That is no lie, and an unavoidable expense. Gus has had a recent growth spurt and is no longer a size 2 diaper. This is a fact. However, parting with beautiful, pristine diapers seems like throwing money out the window so we have been trying to squeeze him into them just a few last times. As Gus rolled over on his play mat this morning I noticed the unmistakable mark of a pending huge mess. We quickly scooped him up and placed him on the changing table belly down. I tried to roll his onsie over the heavily sweet potato influenced warm stool seeping from his saturated, undersized nappy. I decided this was not going to work as my knuckle dragged through the mess (for the second time) looking like a seagull beak after trying to fish in the Gulf of Mexico. We grabbed the onsie jaws of life (scissors) and began to cut it off of him. There was just no way it would be going over his cranium without leaving a trail (this, too, may seem wasteful, but I assure you, he is pushing the boundaries on his 6 mo. clothes as well, so not a huge loss). With the precision of a surgeon the cut was made up the back of the onsie and from the arm opening the neck on both sides. Augustus was then swiftly moved into the tub from there and sudden disaster was avoided. And then the clock struck 7..... AM.

So you really should read the warning label..

apply small amount first to make sure it will not discolor fabric...I've read this so many times, but don't think I've ever actually done it. Like so many times before..learning the hard way makes you pay attention to such recommendations.

As part of being thrifty and trying to re purpose things, I have made a home Windex solution. It works awesome. As I was creating this magic potion I realized I was using the breast pump flange as a funnel. It has worked beautifully on so many surfaces. However, our hardwoods are a different story. So, now there are several spots of clearly bleached out areas. Almost acting as a frame around the original spot I was trying to eradicate in the first place.

awesome.

Gas

Why do some gas stations have the little clip so you can go do something else, like throw away trash or clean your window, and some don't? Is the clip more expensive?

Speaking of throwing your trash away... if you are going to include your BJ's card and your credit card in the mix, try to do it in the morning. There is less trash to go through than in the afternoon to find your cards. You can just take my word for this. Times when being a home care nurse comes in handy, disposable gloves at the ready.

The Perfect Storm..

A simple outing. Two tasks to complete, one diaper bag packed with plenty of provisions...or so we thought..

I would bet that on any given day if you were to conduct a poll of random people walking down the street going about their business and ask them what one place that they pretty much dread going to, one of the top collective answers would be the DMV.

So we are taking a bit of a bath but decided to trade in our front wheel drive white BMW (purchased DINK ((dual incomes no kids)) for a nice practical Honda Accord. Chris had already met with Richard, our sales associate (looks like an amateur Madam Trousseau wax creation of a slightly jaundiced Gene Simmons) and had gathered the paperwork and then I brought it back in to be done so all we would have to do today is go sign a few forms. All this was confirmed via the telephone last night, everything was all set, would take a jiffy. We understood since the vehicle was being purchased in MA, we would need to go to the DMV in Maine. Well, as you can imagine this did not quite happen as smoothly as predicted (or there would be no need to write about it).. First we get to Honda and things are not ready, it took much longer then we thought and we were irritated. Gus seemed a little off and had been coughing. Second we go to DMV in Kennebunkport (over an hour drive) b/c they said we would need new plates.... Now serving # 88..we look down..we are #103. shake heads, find corner, attempt to entertain Madelyn and a increasingly fussy and mucasy Gus. One hour and 7 minutes fly (not really) by and the 4 of us move to window 2. Walking to the window could have been the muse for the writer of the Beetlejuice waiting room scene. The nice lady informs us we need to do all of this in Kittery. Deep sigh. Madelyn is like a landmine field, ready to blow at any moment. I have an entire shoulder covered w/ snot and the barf brought on from too much coughing. Back to the car (Madelyn might have learned a few new words).. Off to Kittery, where an equally pleasant lady told us we had the wrong paper work. crickets. Perfect timing as Chris and I traded the ever knowing glance of acknowledging that perhaps Madelyn had a dirty diaper. Then one her coworkers informed me that Gus was sick, probably with a fever and croup and really should be home. This is when Megan exists stage left, as to avoid any outburst. Chris was left with more forms and to write a check twice what the Honda dealer estimated, but finally we were done. Approximately 7 hours for what we predicted to be about 2 hours.

countless forms + sick kid + understocked diaper bag + DMV + another DMV = the perfect storm