it all sounds better in my head

{this picture was taken last month, but it could've been this morning since it snowed last night}

I don't even know where to begin. I've tried 3 times and the delete button keeps winning. Blah.

I'm just going to go ahead with a rather disjointed post of stuff that's floating around in my head. I think I'll sleep better with it swimming around on the internet than cramped up inside my cranium.

I'm just going to pretend that I'm writing in my journal, not sharing my feeeeelings with the world (even though I haven't written in a journal since I was in college). You know what happens when you take lots of weeks off from blogging (besides having no online documentation that you and your kids did anything semi-interesting)? You stop wanting to blog. You wonder who cares anyway. Then you get all negative and doubting and worry that in the past you shared too much and maybe your enemies are reading this and you're letting them in on all your secrets and family happenings. Crazy stuff happens. See?

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I don't think I am the same person in person as I am when I write crazy stuff like that last paragraph. I wander around this life of mine not saying stuff that I really want to say. Not hugging people because I worry that they don't want to be hugged and because if I hug them, they might hug back and then I'll cry. Just because hugging means you care and if I get the feeling that you care my floodgates will burst and there will be no stopping me. So I don't hug, even though I kind of want to want to. Does that make sense?

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I look at this messy house of mine every morning and hope that if anyone comes over they'll know that's not who I am. I am not a mess. I spend a lot of my time putting things back where they belong, or throwing stuff away or organizing stuff so that there are more spaces for stuff to belong. But mostly, I just am amazed that I have lived in this house for over a decade and it's still not how I want it to be. I wash a lot of dishes. I fold a lot of clothes. I feed people all day long (it seems, but I'm sure that can't be true). I wipe things and scrub things and on the rare occasion I even iron things. And I look around and it's still a mess because the little people live here and they play with things and they use paper and markers and scissors and create things. I'm happy that they do because it would be a sad life for them if they didn't. But wow it's messy. And if you've been in my house and think it's not messy, that's because I spent the entire 2 hours while they were both at school at the same time straightening up and then I go to bed sad that I spent my only free time of the day cleaning stuff. Oy.

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My computer broke this summer. It's not fixed yet. I haven't even taken it in to see what's wrong. I just use Dan's laptop from work in the evenings. I sometimes wonder if I'd be a better mommy blogger if I had computer access during the day. And then I relive the day and realize that there's pretty much no time that's quiet enough for me to collect my thoughts and blog anything coherent anyway. And then I wonder why I feel the need to have thoughtful blog posts. Pictures and captions just don't seem to do it anymore. I blame Instagram (which I totally love but I think it's killed my blog). 

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I ran into one of my former students and her mom at Target a few weeks ago. She was in my special ed class when she was in 4th and 5th grade. Now she's 18, married and pregnant. Eek. They saw me first and said, "Mrs. Olds!" which was weird because people don't call me that anymore. (Danny's teacher even calls me Danny's Mom. So do the other kids in his class. "Danny's Mom, can you help me?" It's funny.) We had a little chit chat right there in the pajama department. She looks the same, just older. It was really weird to see her grown up. In my head all my former students are just frozen in time. Kids. The first class of second graders I ever taught should be graduating from college soon. Crazy. Anyway, we said our goodbyes and I walked away with tears in my eyes. Partly because I miss being a teacher and partly because how is she 18 and pregnant and I had to wait until I was 33 to be a mom? Things just seem really unfair sometimes but I know I'd much rather have my life than hers so I just wipe my tears and move on.

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Danny likes to tickle people. I hate being tickled so I just try to pretend it doesn't tickle so he'll stop. He's figured out that I'm really only ticklish in my armpits. One morning he was doing his best to tickle me there and I was really resisting the urge to let it be ticklish. He finally gave up and upon inspecting my armpit, he decided that it wasn't working because of all those pokey things. Ha. Looks like my super power of resisting the tickles is due to my armpit hair stubble. 

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Dan's spring break is this week. Danny's is the next. I had this brilliant idea this morning that I should take the kids and fly to Alabama to visit my parents during Danny's spring break. He's got an entire week off. Dan might not even miss us. He'll have the cats to take care of so that should be enough to keep him happy. And then I had a big bummer moment when I figured that dream of spring break in Alabama should have been thought up months ago because do you know how much plane tickets cost when you look into it just a week in advance? Mucho dinero. I'm going to just not think about it and be happy that my parents will be moving here in the summer. Never mind that my kids and I will probably never be able to visit them in the house that I grew up in ever again. It's just a house. It's not important. The people who lived in it are. And soon they'll be here and I will have endless free babysitting!!

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I stopped reading lots of blogs many months ago. It just got way too overwhelming for me. I'm really good at the whole compare yourself to others thing. I'm a pro at it indeed. So I figured I'd better just stop subjecting myself to the stuff that I was comparing myself to. Obviously I can't cut myself off from the world and just live in my happy little home with my happy little kids and my happy little husband doing our own happy little stuff, oblivious to what other moms and kids and husbands are doing better than me. Duh. So blogs of super hero moms who do super wonderful stuff with their super awesomely cute kids, I'm done with you. I'll catch you later when I don't feel so bad about my messy nondecorated house. It's me, not you. Really.

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I gave up baked goodies for Lent. I'm not Catholic and I've never participated in Lent before but I figured I'd give it a try. I chose baked goodies instead of sugar because I'm a realist. No sugar for 40 days? Never going to happen. I don't drink or smoke or do drugs or any of that other consume it so you can relax or get high or forget your worries or just feel good stuff. So for me, it's chocolate. Just a handful of chocolate chips at the end of the day is all I need really. So I gave up baked goodies. Actually, I'm still giving them up since I've got another week to go. At first it was tough. But as the days went on, I realized that if I didn't bake the stuff, I wouldn't eat it. What a concept! I don't buy cookies or cupcakes at the store because I know I can make them yummier at home. Donuts do not tempt me in the least bit since I gained 20 pounds stuffing my face with them the summer after my senior year in high school. I think I've lost a pound and a half so that's good. I wasn't participating in Lent for the weight loss but I'll take it as a pleasant side effect. It's been good to give up something that I really love and gain a lot of self control. It's a nice feeling. But seriously, I haven't eaten a cookie since it started. Not even the Girl Scout cookies that got delivered to my house halfway through. I amaze myself sometimes.

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And to end this post about nothing on a happy note, a little quote from my Catie Bug. She's awesome.

"You're the best mom ever. Daddy's the best dad ever. Know what's the best part about you and Daddy? The snugly part."