tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-165689672009-07-02T17:51:05.551-04:00Stay At Aum MomMeLnoreply@blogger.comBlogger543125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16568967.post-36686247003830467902009-07-02T10:42:00.002-04:002009-07-02T14:57:37.024-04:00No I am Not Really This GranolaOh, internets.  It has been a while, hasn't it?  My black thumb and I have been busy.  Busy being sleepy, not keeping up with chores, pretty much killing the container garden, and boring my children with my lack of motherly awesome.  (But! We went to the Cool Pool! The one with the Frog Slide! And there was ice cream! And apparently lots of exclamation points!) <div>That trip to the pool, by the way, cost me 2 days of recuperation.  Because while my thyroid appears to be fine, the Chronic Fatigue continues. (Which, by the way, is most likely exactly that.  Apparently I had mono at some indistinct point in the past and it is probably dragging me down like a lead balloon. So yay for that.)</div><div>But lest you think it all be doom and gloom around the Casa, allow me to relieve your brain.  There are games afoot, and after adding magnesium and B12 to my vitamin regimen, I am beginning to feel a bit of energy come back.  Enough that I went for a walk/jog last night with Gizmo the WonderDog.  We did 2 miles.  (You're appropriately impressed, aren't you.  You should be!  Please?) Hmm that sounds a bit needy.  Okay, FINE then. Don't be impressed.  But when me and my pasty-legs-of-iron bust into the not-so-skinny-but-still-smaller-than-the-maternity-pants jeans, who will look silly THEN, huh?! I ASK YOU.</div><div>*cough*</div><div>I'm sorry, where were we?  OH!  So, yeah. After pretty much killing all of my carefully tended food plants (and decidedly killing the peach tree sapling purchased on a whim at Walmart for fifteen bucks. Oh, I killed it dead, y'all) I have discovered the glory of the local <a href="http://localharvest.org">CSA</a>.  I am now waiting to hear back from our local farm to see if they allow buy-ins mid-season.  Otherwise we will buy in for next year, and I'll spend the rest of this year attempting to not feed the kids a steady diet of grilled cheese and chicken nuggets.</div><div>So there's that.</div><div>Pretend I have a clever segue here as we move on to talk Vacation.</div><div>Finances being what they are, we knew we would be driving somewhere for vacation this year.  We talked about several possibilities -- Philadelphia and the Please Touch Museum (I'd link to it, but I'm lazy.  Google it.  Also, don't make the mistake we kept making and call it the "Touch This" museum if you are describing it to other people, as it sounds oddly pornographic and will likely garner the same looks of confused horror.)  We looked at the Deleware Beaches, but that was cost prohibitive.  Also, we waited too long and everything was booked. But mostly the cost. (ahem.)</div><div>Finally, Big Daddy had a lightning strike of brilliance.  The Family Aum will be heading to CANADIA!  Lock up your mounties - Mama is headed for the border.  Well, not immediately; we're going in August.  The trip will take us through the wilds of Upstate NY, into the (assumably) bustling metropolis of Montreal and, finally, up to the French-Canadian Frenchness of Quebec City.  (Hey, Monsiour Fisher! I'll finally have an excuse to use my High School French! You know, for something besides swearing in front of my kids!)</div><div>So the summer is shaping up to be a little bit of crazy (Oh, yeah, I did <a href="http://melcakes.blogspot.com">3 cakes in 2 weeks</a>! Because I am a masochist!) and a lot of awesome. (Energy returning. Sun Shining.  Bonjour, Canada! and such like.)</div><div>And if this post has come off as a rambling stream-of-consciousness bit, you'll have to be forgiving.  I haven't slept in 3 days, courtesy of Milo.  I'd work up the energy to cry, but when I realized he cut his first tooth all was well.  Funny how a little tooth (or a reason to finally get my passport) can change the perspective, isn't it?</div><div>Now just pretend there's a witty closing here that wraps this all up into some sort of neat thesis, and we'll call it a day.  </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16568967-3668624700383046790?l=www.aummom.com'/></div>MeLnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16568967.post-50610831566089513572009-06-18T16:25:00.004-04:002009-06-18T16:36:20.925-04:00Know what would cheer me up right now?<a href="http://www.blogher.com/special-offer-ford">A free trip to BlogHer courtesy of Ford,</a> that's what.<div>What with the layoff earlier this year and the month or two without a paycheck, we found we just couldn't scrape the funds for me to go off on my GirlTastic adventure again this year.  </div><div>Last year's BlogHer conference was... well, it was just effing brilliant and (beyond the odd drama here or there that had nothing whatever to do with me) it was the most positive experience I have ever had with a group of women.  And a HUGE group of women, at that.</div><div>My roommate last year was the incomparable MochaMomma.  How I managed to bamboozle her awesomeness into sharing space with yours truly will remain a mystery.  I also got to get to know her daughter Mallory, who is also spectacular.  It was an embarrassment of riches.</div><div>In fact, it was not unlike taking the hottest guy in school to the Junior Prom, only to find yourself alone with "Beaches" and a box of Twinkies come Senior Prom.  And it does feel like Senior Prom this year; I'm over my extreme anxiety of last year, I'm not pregnant this year (so I could enjoy the parties without having to keep a bathroom and a sitting place in the immediate vicinity at all times) and I've been doing this blogging bit for.. uh... like 6 years now.  (HOLY CRAP.)</div><div>So in order to get myself extra entries, I'm telling you about this Ford thing.  All you have to do (if you're registered with BlogHer) is read about 3 fuel-efficient Ford vehicles and then<a href="http://www.blogher.com/special-offer-ford"> leave a comment </a>letting them know which one you would choose to take on a road trip.  How awesome is that?  Extra entries are granted for tweeting about the contest (which I will do momentarily because HI! I IZ FREE STUFF WHORE!) and blogging about it (which... Hi! STILL A WHORE.)</div><div>So do me a favor and - whatever you do - DO NOT ENTER THIS CONTEST.  That leaves more chances for me to win, after all... and, really, isn't it all about what's good for <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">me?</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16568967-5061083156608951357?l=www.aummom.com'/></div>MeLnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16568967.post-76715298403310625172009-06-15T15:48:00.004-04:002009-06-15T17:36:49.131-04:00This Is Not The Post You Are Expecting.<div>So there's a lot that I could say here.  I could tell you at length (with funny little anecdotes and wry asides) about the adventures we've had lately.  I could regale you with the story of how I lost my mojo, about how I got more and more tired the past few months until I can barely keep my eyes open during the day, but get a raging case of insomnia at night.  I could tell you how I get winded just tying my shoes, and how getting up in the morning has become something to dread.  I dread it not because I am depressed (I'm not! Life is good!!) but because I know I will wake and rise as exhausted (if not more so) than when I lay down at night.<div><br /></div><div>So I went to the doctor and I got some blood work, and when that comes back I'll be making more appointments with more doctors and - long story longer - it's probably my thyroid but just as likely something else, or maybe I am simply out of my gourd and have a drastic case of The Vapors.  Your guess is as good as mine at this point.  But we're leaning towards thyroid.</div><div><br /></div><div>And with that, May I present -- The last few weeks: A Photo Essay.</div></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/Sja9qFTOONI/AAAAAAAAAu8/jyQU7NqsBl8/s1600-h/IMG_0252.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/Sja9qFTOONI/AAAAAAAAAu8/jyQU7NqsBl8/s400/IMG_0252.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347670138223999186" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Preschool Class Field Trip to the Zoo.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/Sja9prAL-TI/AAAAAAAAAu0/MdJjwbyWBSM/s1600-h/IMG_0271.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/Sja9prAL-TI/AAAAAAAAAu0/MdJjwbyWBSM/s400/IMG_0271.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347670131164838194" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">My little Glam Rocker.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/Sja9peyT_7I/AAAAAAAAAus/hQwrmQWseos/s1600-h/IMG_0311.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/Sja9peyT_7I/AAAAAAAAAus/hQwrmQWseos/s400/IMG_0311.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347670127885418418" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Soccer Super Star</div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/Sja8k4FecWI/AAAAAAAAAuU/j-5JVJPjylo/s1600-h/IMG_0430.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/Sja8k4FecWI/AAAAAAAAAuU/j-5JVJPjylo/s400/IMG_0430.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347668949265707362" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">New Haircut.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/Sja8khVc5NI/AAAAAAAAAuM/iblGOLkZe3E/s1600-h/IMG_0438.JPG"><br /></a></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/Sja8kTWj-fI/AAAAAAAAAuE/WuDPYAD_9ZE/s1600-h/IMG_0417.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/Sja8kTWj-fI/AAAAAAAAAuE/WuDPYAD_9ZE/s400/IMG_0417.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347668939405261298" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Kindergarten Graduation</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/Sja8khVc5NI/AAAAAAAAAuM/iblGOLkZe3E/s1600-h/IMG_0438.JPG"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/Sja8khVc5NI/AAAAAAAAAuM/iblGOLkZe3E/s400/IMG_0438.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347668943158699218" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center; ">Visit with Grandpa &amp; Grandma</div></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/Sja8kMJha9I/AAAAAAAAAt8/KQKZBX9MNOY/s1600-h/IMG_0449.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/Sja8kMJha9I/AAAAAAAAAt8/KQKZBX9MNOY/s400/IMG_0449.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347668937471519698" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">End-of-year Class Party with Teachers.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/Sja8j-8CMNI/AAAAAAAAAt0/XZ4IsKMf0Yk/s1600-h/IMG_0445.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/Sja8j-8CMNI/AAAAAAAAAt0/XZ4IsKMf0Yk/s400/IMG_0445.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347668933925286098" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Growing bigger all the time.</div><br /><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16568967-7671529840331062517?l=www.aummom.com'/></div>MeLnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16568967.post-42611320133174395402009-06-06T23:05:00.003-04:002009-06-06T23:10:15.337-04:00A Funny Thing HappenedTurns out the mag charger isn't as indestructible as you might think.<div>Turns out that it's not as easy to find a replacement out here in the sticks as it ought to be.</div><div>Turns out that weeks later I got used to not having access to the interwebs.  I've been busy doing things like watching my little man graduate kindergarten and <a href="http://melcakes.blogspot.com">making a wedding cake</a>.  And that's just the tip of it.</div><div><br /></div><div>So I've been away. And now I'm back. And while I'm too tired tonight to put together a coherent retelling of the past few weeks for you, I promise one will be coming soon.  Probably it will mostly be pictures.  I know you won't mind.</div><div><br /></div><div>Cheers and see you soon.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16568967-4261132013317439540?l=www.aummom.com'/></div>MeLnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16568967.post-43379759566756019102009-05-22T10:07:00.003-04:002009-05-22T10:31:29.712-04:00Am I Yet Living, You Say?Oh, internets. It has been a wild ride, these last few (blog silence) weeks. And I have all sorts of things to share with you, but - unfortunately for you - my mac charger is still broken and still unreplaced. I KNOW! The horror! (first world problems. I have them.)<br /><br />So here I am down in husband's basement office to steal a few moments on his computer while the kids are otherwise occupied. Our basement is "partially finished" - which is realtor speak for "has a corner blocked off with what are technically walls and something resembling carpet, but the cats have been using this room as their Special Box whenever hubs doesn't change the litter soon enough and there are at least 3 piles of cat poop in here and <span style="font-style: italic;">I am SO not cleaning that up.</span> Have fun, Babe.)<br /><br />So ANY-who. Yeah. That's about the size of it around here and - oh! - I cut off all my hair! No, I didn't shave my head early - that's coming in March. No, I just had a wild inclination and I went with it. So now I have a burgundy pixie cut... where "pixie cut" equates to a half teaspoon of surf wax and "LOOK! Hair all done!" Messy-on-purpose suits me as a look the same way it suits me as a lifestyle choice. heh. (take that how you will.) <br /><br />But I promise to be back in the saddle soon. And I'll tell you all about the exciting world of diaper changing! And Milk Blisters! and CAKEOHMYGOODNESSTHE CAKE. There is a lot of it. And in the mean time, please to be reading <a href="http://www.finslippy.com/finslippy/2009/05/oh-sixandhalfyearoldyou-always-know-what-im-really-saying-.html">here </a>and <a href="http://simplemom.net/5-ways-to-dramatically-improve-your-finances-beginning-now/">here </a>and <a href="http://www.fussy.org/">here </a>... and just meld them together in the blender of your brain, pour into a cup, consume, and you'll basically have a good summary idea of where I have been for the past few weeks. It should last you until I can get a new macbook mag charger. (Hopefully before the next ice age?)<br /><br />Love and Kisses,<br />MeL<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16568967-4337975956675601910?l=www.aummom.com'/></div>MeLnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16568967.post-28004609049446122712009-05-08T09:24:00.012-04:002009-05-08T11:22:54.794-04:00Growing Up, Not Old: A story in pictures.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/SgRKkhdluYI/AAAAAAAAAtc/ThvFvqniXcg/s1600-h/hithere.JPG"></a><div style="text-align: left;">First, allow me to introduce my very lovely friend Camilla.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/SgRDZKnpD9I/AAAAAAAAAtE/RXBJeXVWJpw/s400/IMG_0195.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333461958339923922" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Camilla - Internets. Internets - Camilla.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;">In addition to being incredibly gorgeous, Camilla is also incredibly tall.  Oh, and incredibly Swedish, too.  <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I know</span>, right? She must have been an angel in a former life to be so blessed, which I totally believe because she is <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">definitely</span> angelic now.  </div><div style="text-align: left;">Camilla celebrated her 30th birthday just after mine, so I insisted on <strike>dragging her out </strike> sweeping her away for an evening of Grown Up Lady Drinks and time away from our offspring.  </div><div style="text-align: left;">This was my favorite beverage of the night.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/SgRBr8fwSsI/AAAAAAAAAsM/MaV9G4ykC-k/s400/IMG_0193.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333460081943005890" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Hello, Burnt Orange Martini.  Delicious AND an excellent source of Vitamin C.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;">And these are the sassy heels I wore, because I<a href="http://www.aummom.com/2009/03/year-without-fear.html"> am wearing High Heels Now</a>.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/SgRBsJgI45I/AAAAAAAAAsU/n8-KDUTg4HI/s400/IMG_0192.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333460085434278802" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">They are mustard yellow suede. No, seriously.  Am I not branching out, people?!</span></div><div style="text-align: left;">And this is my Sassy Face that I wore to match my sassy heels:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/SgRBsTLMENI/AAAAAAAAAsc/jOLV0G8BYWo/s400/IMG_0191.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333460088030761170" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></div></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">Okay, so that's less sassy and more sweet.  Have it your way, HERE is my sassy face:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/SgRBs6VUOEI/AAAAAAAAAss/_y_pHHLxjRE/s400/IMG_0199.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333460098542221378" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I wish I could blame my complexion on the flash, but I really am just. that. white.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;">So we dined on some nachos and had some drinks and then there was dessert.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/SgRB7Q-dg9I/AAAAAAAAAs0/somZBrip_QQ/s400/IMG_0196.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333460345138545618" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">W</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">e were going to take a picture of it for you, but we eated it first.  </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">But trust me - it was lovely. And <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">delicious</span>.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/SgRDY8O7vFI/AAAAAAAAAs8/e_98DKqa0tg/s400/IMG_0200.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333461954478193746" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Spending a carefree evening in the company of a friend? </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Even <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">more</span> lovely. And delicious.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;">The evening was a complete success, complete with a walk from the restaurant back to Camilla's house and a designated driver for me.  Camilla's husband, Russ, volunteered for that duty.  Russ is from Maine and says things like "Leave yeh cah pahked at the bah and I'll give you a lift home."  This is made even more awesome by the fact that when, in a few months, Camilla and Russ take their baby daughter and move to Sweden, Russ will presumably need to learn to speak some swedish.  I imagine this will be comparable to the sounds I heard while taking a French class in Texas.  If you don't find either of these situations hilarious, you really just don't get my sense of humor and probably need to watch more Monty Python.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Also, I'm trying not to weep over the fact that Camilla is moving back to Sweden.  Did you know that Sweden pays you to have kids? And that they have awesome programs to support parents who stay home with their kids? I am now weighing the chances I could convince Big Daddy to move to Sweden.  </div><div style="text-align: left;">Any-who, this fantastic evening was a lovely panacea to the wounds on my Mom-Weary heart.  Not that I was weary of motherhood - don't go reading it that way.  It's more that I was suddenly forced to face facts about my children growing up much faster than I am prepared to process.  See, just the evening before I was faced with THIS:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/SgRIohOYmpI/AAAAAAAAAtM/8VqWvaN8574/s400/IMG_0189.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333467719664179858" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT IS?!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><div style="text-align: left;">So I'm okay with ME getting older. But that?  That is just... just... I mean, yesterday he looked like THIS:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/SgRKkhdluYI/AAAAAAAAAtc/ThvFvqniXcg/s400/hithere.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333469850031733122" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Hello, Baby who is NOT Milo</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">But Holy Hannah Montana, do you LOOK like Milo!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">And now I am faced with THIS:</span></div><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/SgRIo1A46jI/AAAAAAAAAtU/XBpcqgttW8Q/s400/IMG_0186.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333467724976286258" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">And .. just... Wow.  </div><div style="text-align: center;">I might need another martini.</div></span></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16568967-2800460904944612271?l=www.aummom.com'/></div>MeLnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16568967.post-75509246190282463542009-04-26T20:43:00.000-04:002009-04-28T20:45:56.507-04:00Weekend Exposure 36?: One year ago...<div>My answer can be found <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/tulayemekli/3048661432/">here.</a></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/Sfei_zqVCTI/AAAAAAAAArk/xxih25iOjC0/s1600-h/3048661432_f14a94674e.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/Sfei_zqVCTI/AAAAAAAAArk/xxih25iOjC0/s400/3048661432_f14a94674e.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329907901099477298" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16568967-7550924619028246354?l=www.aummom.com'/></div>MeLnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16568967.post-67470957685120621132009-04-21T10:35:00.003-04:002009-04-21T10:42:37.040-04:00Weekend Exposure 35Yeah, I missed a week.  Ah well! Onward and upward....<div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 16px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">?: Who (what/when/where/why) are you missing?<br />My answer can be found </span></span><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/deegoo/2855366518/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">here</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 16px;font-family:Verdana;font-size:11px;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/Se3a_Ce5QMI/AAAAAAAAArc/lUyxU_b9Xgs/s400/2855366518_52b40e73ce.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327154710782230722" /></span></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16568967-6747095768512062113?l=www.aummom.com'/></div>MeLnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16568967.post-11879145987571435132009-04-14T15:31:00.003-04:002009-04-14T15:59:16.463-04:00Good Things Growing<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/SeTlDQenCrI/AAAAAAAAAq0/6ZKOXffRMHQ/s1600-h/IMG_0079.JPG"></a><div style="text-align: left;">I can tell that Spring is finally (nearly?) here.  There are signs of it all around.  <br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/SeTlCcDDGjI/AAAAAAAAAqk/SCJNp0utORo/s1600-h/IMG_0075.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/SeTlCcDDGjI/AAAAAAAAAqk/SCJNp0utORo/s400/IMG_0075.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324632489510246962" /></a><div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left; ">There are roses from Big Daddy.  These are <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">very specia</span>l roses, also known as <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Apology Roses</span>.  Because my husband realizes he married a crazy person who immediately assumes, if she hasn't heard from him by 7pm, that he has been in a horrific industrial accident and is <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">right this minute</span> bleeding out from a wound that she would totally know how to apply a tourniquet to but how can she when she doesn't know where to find him ZOMGWTFBBQ?!  So.. yeah.  Apology Roses.  They smell sweeter than the regular kind, I swear.</div><div style="text-align: left; "><br /></div></div><div><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/SeTlDFVf7CI/AAAAAAAAAqs/BghLIw-gufE/s400/IMG_0078.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324632500593486882" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /><div style="text-align: left;">Several days ago I planted seeds in some paper cups to get the seedlings started indoors because, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">sweet jumping Joe Jonas on a Pogo Stick</span>, the danger of frost has STILL not passed.  Jack has been terribly upset by the fact that nothing has grown yet. (It's been 5 whole minutes, though, Mom! Why aren't the seeds growing us food yet?!)</div><div style="text-align: left;">And then, today, we spotted this little bugger.  I'm gonna go ahead and assume that that's spinach, since that's what's written on the side of the cup.  I've never seen spinach seedlings before, so I'm not really sure if that's what they're supposed to look like.  But look! How brave he is! Grow tiny spinach, GROW! Make us food, and bring me one step closer to winning Granola Earth Mother Of The Year In My Own Mind!  Because I've heard that's basically the recipe: cloth diapering + grow your own food = Green Parenting WIN! (Don't pop my happy little bubble by dispelling the delusion.  I like the bubble. It's warm and sparkly in here.)</div><div style="text-align: left;">Planting these food plants, in addition to the strawberry, blueberry and raspberry plants that I have planted in the yard, is another step in the Year Without Fear.  I've always wanted a food garden, but always been afraid I'd go to all that effort only to end up with no food to show for it.  I may very well end up with nary a bean for my efforts, but then again I might end up baking blueberry muffins with my own berries.  You never know until you try.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/SeTlCcDDGjI/AAAAAAAAAqk/SCJNp0utORo/s1600-h/IMG_0075.JPG"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/SeTlCcDDGjI/AAAAAAAAAqk/SCJNp0utORo/s1600-h/IMG_0075.JPG"></a></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/SeTlDQenCrI/AAAAAAAAAq0/6ZKOXffRMHQ/s400/IMG_0079.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324632503584492210" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;">These are snake plants, birthed of some other snake plants, that are originally from a mother plant that was cared for by Big Daddy's Gramma Tina for I don't know how long.  The big plant we had - a cutting from Gramma Tina's plant - lived in Big Daddy old apartment in downtown Washington, D.C., where it was fed a steady diet of stale beer and cigarette smoke for many, many moons.  That plant finally started to lose its long battle with sickness and, despite my less-than-stellar track record at keeping green things alive, I took some cuttings from it and rooted them in water.  2 years later our original plant was finally giving up the ghost, but those babies were still going strong in the water in my kitchen window sill.  They're like the Britney Spears of houseplants: every time you think they're going to make it, they start to croak... and just when you count them out, they're BACK, Baby!  (Suddenly I'm seeing a parity between Britney Spears and Zombies that I had heretofore failed to detect...) </div><div style="text-align: left;">Anyway, they are finally safely ensconced in some lush potting soil... which is to say that you can probably take safe odds they'll be hunched over limply in about a week.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Happy Spring, Everybody!  Go grow something.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Oh, wait.. you want to know about this?  *pointing at this here blog scenery*</div><div style="text-align: left;">What, THIS old thing?  Ah well. It IS spring, after all - time to make all things new again.  It was about time for a redesign, and this free template (courtesy <a href="http://finalsense.com/services/blog_templates/index.htm">FinalSense</a>) was just too good to pass up.  A few tweaks to the design and... tah-dah!   It will take some getting used to, but I'm embracing it.  I hope you will, too, internets.</div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16568967-1187914598757143513?l=www.aummom.com'/></div>MeLnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16568967.post-82472074144928481012009-04-12T10:34:00.002-04:002009-04-12T10:39:37.829-04:00Open-MindednessVia <a href="http://andrewsullivan.theatlantic.com/the_daily_dish/2009/04/openmindedness.html">Andrew Sullivan.</a>.. This is maybe the most awesomest video ever.  Welcome to my brain.<div><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/T69TOuqaqXI&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/T69TOuqaqXI&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16568967-8247207414492848101?l=www.aummom.com'/></div>MeLnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16568967.post-43282251780621408642009-04-09T17:27:00.005-04:002009-04-09T17:43:17.608-04:00Favorite Things, Tempting Fate, Embracing Love<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/Sd5nrwsFRuI/AAAAAAAAAqM/h2W5mVVr-5w/s400/IMG_0070.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322805811100337890" /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Love and gifts from faraway loved ones.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">(Especially ones who remember I have a weakness for pretty necklaces)</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;">Definitely some of my favorite things.  </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">As to tempting fate, it's of course immediately after my year of Living On Purpose - "A year without fear" - begins that Milo has a double ear infection (with a perforated ear drum on one side, naturally), Tobin declares he does not want to go to school ever again, thankyouverymuchbuhbye, and Jack falls off the climbing wall at school and bashes his head on a metal ladder.  </div><div style="text-align: left;">But everyone is okay, and to scornful fate I say "pfffthhhbbbbbbt."  No one ever said it would be easy.  But life is something to be embraced.</div><div style="text-align: left;">This week, in spite of their minor complaints and my minor whining, I am embracing my children as tight as I can and silently hurting for the parents of <a href="http://remembermaddie.com/">Maddie</a>.  Their sweet, beautiful little girl was born too soon and had to fight with all her might to live.  They lost her this week, and I can only imagine the shambles their world is in right now.  I can't let myself think about what it would be like to lose a child, most especially one for whom they had to fight so hard for to begin with. My heart is aching for them.  Follow the link to send them some support, or go <a href="http://amomtwoboys.com/for-maddie">here</a> to find out what you can do to help.<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">And go hug your loved ones.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16568967-4328225178062140864?l=www.aummom.com'/></div>MeLnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16568967.post-5551220958652547172009-04-06T09:19:00.005-04:002009-04-06T11:14:08.676-04:00My Favorite Things.One of my favorite Bloggers, <a href="http://www.iambossy.com">Bossy</a>, has a recurring feature called "Bossy's Favorite Things". She inspires me in more ways than one, but this is one of those ways.  I love the idea of sharing favorites, because it's an incomparable glimpse into what makes a person tick.<div>So from time to time I'll be sharing some of my favorite things with lucky you.  </div><div>Let's begin, shall we?<div><br /><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/SdoHNEsUS-I/AAAAAAAAAp0/1z9IBttyHzk/s400/IMG_0065.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321573830870977506" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Coffee. In my Bad Ass (literally) coffee mug from my Father-in-law. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Yo Crunch. Because it's yogurt (healthy!)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">with little bits of Butterfinger (so it <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">feels</span> naughty!)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">It's the breakfast of champions, people.</div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16568967-555122095865254717?l=www.aummom.com'/></div>MeLnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16568967.post-67009773988123133572009-04-05T09:18:00.005-04:002009-04-05T09:46:52.761-04:00Awesome Things About Turning Thirty.1) I finally feel like a grown-up.  Well, not entirely... but at least I don't feel like an overgrown teenager any more.  But, lest I despair, I did get carded when buying Big Daddy a bottle of single-barrel Jack yesterday.  I made sure to tell the check-out girl "Thank You!"<div><br /></div><div>2) The Year Without Fear starts TO-DAY.  I'm celebrating by making a huge pot of Oatmeal and having breakfast with my family.  Not that that's something I'm afraid to do. Well, not totally afraid, anyway. (Have you ever SEEN small children eat oatmeal? It's enough to turn the hair white. Let's just hope we keep it off the ceiling.)</div><div><br /></div><div>3) Big Daddy swept me away last night for a romantic dinner for two at the new local restaurant that constructs its entire menu around locally sourced ingredients.  They change the menu up every few weeks and have an incredible chef who I am now fantasizing about kidnapping and forcing to be my personal Food Goddess for the rest of eternity.  Calamari with bleu cheese dipping sauce (I normally HATE bleu cheese, but I wanted to bathe in this.) followed by marinated hanger steak (medium-rare, of course) with caramelized onions, three-cheese polenta, and braised greens.  We shared a bottle of the most amazing Cabernet from Chile over dinner, and then I was treated to the Best. Creme Brulee. Ever.  If I could have? I totally  would have shrunk down to an inch high just so I could roll naked in it. It was THAT. GOOD. (And you're welcome for the visual.  It's <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">my</span> little birthday gift to <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">you</span>. heh.)</div><div><br /></div><div>4) Did I mention that today marks the beginning of "A Year Without Fear"?  Because today we're taking the boys to see Monsters vs. Aliens (all 3 kids. To a movie.  I am slaying dragons over here, people!) And also my embrace of healthier eating.  I figure at 30 I'm entitled to set rewards for myself for losing 3-babies-worth of weight, too, so after 10 pounds my friend Sarah and I get to make a visit to the Shrubber.  After 30 pounds I'm getting my new tattoo.  After 50 pounds I'm gutting my wardrobe and starting over. My new wardrobe will contain ONLY pieces of clothing that I love, because life is too short to surrender to the frump.</div><div><br /></div><div>So share my birthday joy with me, internets.  And don't forget to ride along with me and maybe dive into fearlessness this year, too.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16568967-6700977398812313357?l=www.aummom.com'/></div>MeLnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16568967.post-90887897156831359492009-04-04T22:58:00.003-04:002009-04-04T23:05:17.187-04:00Weekend Exposure 33<div style="text-align: center;">?: This Week's Celebration...<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">My answer can be found <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/laughingsquid/260374487/">here</a>.</div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 288px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/SdgfvyPAqTI/AAAAAAAAApk/dYpyxL4oyWg/s400/260374487_a0196c9ec2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321037865537284402" /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16568967-9088789715683135949?l=www.aummom.com'/></div>MeLnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16568967.post-87972452604068409102009-04-03T11:05:00.005-04:002009-04-03T11:32:29.482-04:00What Have I Been Doing?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/SdYqfA3gjiI/AAAAAAAAApc/BnHwQn4U8f4/s1600-h/IMG_4889.JPG"></a>There is a list of things that have kept me away from the internets recently.  <div>Ready for story time, boys and girls? Good. Then settle in and get comfy, because this could take a while.</div><div><br /></div><div>1) Cake.  Holy Hanna Montana, <a href="http://melcakes.blogspot.com/">CAKE</a>.  What started with a single friend asking to hire me to do her daughter's birthday cake has sprung up into a much bigger venture than I would ever have imagined.  It rules, it really does. It's also exhausting and involves hours at a time bent over the kitchen counter with a piping bag in my hand.  That's not nearly as dirty as it sounds.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>2) Soccer.  Did I mention that I'm a full-blooded soccer mom now?  Yeah, when I first realized it I actually felt myself die, just a little, on the inside.  But then I was faced with this:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/SdYm4474UlI/AAAAAAAAApU/p04esEY2qEg/s400/IMG_4840.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320482768582890066" /></div><div style="text-align: left;">and, really, how could that possibly make a person feel anything but glee? <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> Wookit my wittle MAN-man</span>, all dressed up in his uniform!  GAH! The cuteness! IT BURNS! (And entirely justifies the excessive use of capital letters and exclamation points right there.)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">3) Sushi!  We've started rolling our own, and now it's addicting.  Sushi is the one food that everyone in the house can agree on -- even Tobin, aka "He who has been known to refuse bananas, bread, and basically <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">every other food or food-like product</span>".  So I've been perfecting my craft (which is to say I have been eating lots of sushi recently because, um, research?)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">4) Garden.  Okay, so I haven't actually started a garden yet, but I have had every intention of doing so.  I bought seeds and I picked out a spot in the yard with perfect sun. I even looked up how to build raised bed boxes for the perfect backyard vegetable patch.  By next year I might even get some veggies planted.  For now, though, its a lovely little kitchen garden<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> in my mind</span>.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">5) Lists!  Lists gets an exclamation mark because I am incredibly good at making lists.  If they gave out trophies for list-making I would have a mantle full of them. (If I had a mantle.)  I am basically Queen Of Listing.  (As in writing lists, not the art of drunkenly walking at an angle. Though I have done that once or twice, but I'm not very good at it.)  When it comes to making lists, however, I totally "make them my companion".  Bonus points if you watch enough news network television to get the reference. (Also, Hi! Pardon the ADD, it's entirely genetic and totally not my fault.)</div><div style="text-align: left;">So, Lists. I have been making a lot of them.  Most notable is the list I am compiling for Things I Shall Do This Year as part of my Year Without Fear.  I'm contemplating a trapeze lesson this summer.  Not even my idea!  But I it fell across my path and I might just have to do it because it seems to fit right in with the whole "grab life by the cojones" spirit of the project.  Did I mention I'm terrified of heights? And falling?  This should be fun.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Also on "The" List for this year are things like "get dirty playing with the kids" and "make a Baked Alaska".   Yeah, I'm hoping the ideas will get better as the year comes along.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Do you have any great ideas for things I could reasonably do this year that would be awesome and fun and not incredibly expensive (and also not incredibly dangerous because - hi! - 3 little boys expect me to be alive to tuck them in at night)?  Leave suggestions in the comments below!  (If it's something like "Dye your hair purple" you'll have to come up with a <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">very good cause</span> I could support by doing so.  This is about doing Good Things, people.)</div><div style="text-align: left;">So there's the sordid, somewhat partial tale of what I've been doing.  I'll maybe get around to telling you more later, but for the moment there is a cake waiting for fondant details to be constructed.</div><div style="text-align: left;">So allow me to leave you with this:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/SdYqfA3gjiI/AAAAAAAAApc/BnHwQn4U8f4/s400/IMG_4889.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320486722081951266" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I'm telling you... the cutness! IT BURNS!</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16568967-8797245260406840910?l=www.aummom.com'/></div>MeLnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16568967.post-22838741412967740982009-03-29T15:04:00.000-04:002009-03-31T15:06:16.318-04:00Weekend Exposure 32<div style="text-align: center;">?: What are you tired of?<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">My answer can be found <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/38707466@N00/360162816/">here</a>.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(Better late than never!)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/38707466@N00/360162816/"><br /></a></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/SdJpbR6nNbI/AAAAAAAAAok/STgoxgDgPYo/s400/360162816_39512da844.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319430027264603570" /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16568967-2283874141296774098?l=www.aummom.com'/></div>MeLnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16568967.post-25683680786824277572009-03-26T09:56:00.003-04:002009-03-26T10:08:37.328-04:00File Under "Parenting Lessons Learned""Where is your library book?" I asked impatiently.  If we didn't walk out the door in the next 2 minutes we would definitely miss the school bus.  <div>"I don't know! Ask Dad! He knows!"</div><div>"Dad is on his way to work already, and why would he have any idea where your book is?"</div><div>"He had it in his hand this morning. NO! Last night! He had it last night!"</div><div>"Get downstairs and get your shoes. I'll call dad."</div><div>...</div><div>"HURRY!"</div><div>And that is how I watched, in slow-motion, as my 5-year-old went tumbling down the stairs, ass-over-tea-kettle.  I flew down the stairs, calculated the likelihood that anything had been broken in the fall and - deeming it safe - scooped him up in my arms and carried him to the sofa.</div><div>I surveyed the fat lip and the stream of plump teardrops running over his rosy cheeks as he sobbed into my shirt.</div><div>"I'm so sorry, baby. Are you okay? That was scary, wasn't it? Does anything hurt?"</div><div>He continued to sniffle into the fabric of my pajamas while I stroked his hair.  Finally, with a deep sigh, he asked in a tiny, trembling voice.. "Mama? Are my teeth loose?"</div><div>I carefully checked each one, then reassured him that, no, his teeth were fine. Oh, and that little bit of blood? No, that was just from his lip where his tooth had caught it as his face hit the floor. (*shudder*)  His teeth were fine.</div><div>This brought on a fresh wave of sobs, which brought me fresh panic as I rechecked his body for some injury I had missed.  Was there a torn rotator? Maybe a cracked rib I had jostled as I hugged him?</div><div>"What is it, buddy?  Does something hurt? What's the matter??"</div><div>A hiccup.  Then, as he lifted his big, wet, brown, doe-eyes to mine, through trembling lips he whimpered...</div><div>"I really want a loose tooth!"</div><div>...</div><div>So, yeah. He's fine. The library book was summarily located and he and his brother were each deposited at their respective schools.</div><div>Me, on the other hand?  I think I need a vacation.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16568967-2568368078682427757?l=www.aummom.com'/></div>MeLnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16568967.post-12679753595722142122009-03-23T09:33:00.004-04:002009-03-23T10:25:59.111-04:00A Year Without Fear.<div>Dear Friends, Family, and Peoples of the Internets... Stay at Aum Mom is about to be forever changed. (Both the site and myself.)  And this is going to be big.  </div><div>Ready? * Deep Breath * Here goes...</div><div><br /></div><div>On April 5 I will be 30 years old.  </div><div>In the last decade I have been through many transformations.  I have gone through the painful process of fleshing out who I am, what I believe, and where I want to be.  I have spent the last several years (and many dollars in therapy) identifying and acknowledging that I am, in many ways, controlled by my fears.  I inherited an oft-crippling anxiety from my mother, and a compulsive perfectionism from my father.  That's not a judgment on them, but rather an objective observation.</div><div>I have never given myself permission to fail.  If failure seemed a likely possibility, I have simply refused to try.  When I have tried, I have been dogged by the constant anxiety that I might make a mistake.  When I have made mistakes or failed at anything I have engaged in the most brutal mental self-flagellation imaginable.</div><div>Yes, on April 5 I will be 30 years old.  </div><div><div>For one entire year I am going to wake up every day and look at my life from a new perspective.  I am going to say "yes" to some things I would have said no to before, and I will say "no" to some things I would have agreed to in the past.</div><div>I am going to embrace new challenges, and I am not going to let myself quit out of fear of failure.  </div></div><div>I hereby declare this year my Year Without Fear.  In ways big and small, I am going to change my life.  I am going to change my <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">self.</span>  I am going to make an action out of my motto - "Live Life On Purpose".</div><div>So what does this all mean? (You and Big Daddy are asking the same question, believe me.)</div><div>To begin with, it doesn't mean anything too drastic.  I'm going to start with small things.  I'm going to maybe sometimes wear lipstick.  Did you know I don't really wear lipstick? I wear lip gloss in sheer shades, or lip balm.  Why? I suppose because I have always equated lipstick (especially bright lipstick) with confidence.  It always strikes me as a "look at me" sort of thing to do.  As if a nose ring and occasionally technicolor hair don't make the same statement.  See? I know that it's a silly thing.  It's a small thing.  But for me, it's a big thing.  It's something I have not allowed myself to do.  So I'm going to do it. </div><div>I'm going to stop screening my phone calls, stop fearing the phone in general. I'm going to start wearing high heels again -- something I have stopped doing almost entirely since having babies. <br /></div><div>The idea is to start small, but to face every day with the attitude that I will not allow fear or anxiety to overrule reason in making any decision, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem.</div><div>I'm also giving myself permission to screw this up from time to time.  Because I am human (rumors to the contrary have been greatly exaggerated) and because another of my great, irrational fears comes from the knee-jerk response of <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">blaming myself </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">for</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">everything that goes wrong.  </span></div><div>So this year I'm going to be more forgiving of myself.  I'm going to work harder, be braver, and laugh louder.<br /></div><div>To top off my adventure, next year -- just before my 31st Birthday -- I will participate in<a href="http://www.stbaldricks.org/"> St. Baldrick's Day</a>, 2010.  I'm going to attend an official event and shave my head to raise funds to help cure childhood cancers.  I've always wanted to wear cute hats, but always been too self-conscious to go for it.  It looks like I'm going to have my chance.  (When the time comes a few months down the road for me to start collecting sponsors, I will post the link.  Prepare to click and donate, peoples.  I'll post plenty of photos for you to see the fruits of your labor after the deed is done.)</div><div>They say it takes 30 days to establish a habit.  I'm thinking that 365 days will make this one stick.</div><div>I'm hoping you'll come along with me for the journey.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16568967-1267975359572214212?l=www.aummom.com'/></div>MeLnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16568967.post-27043148066659612982009-03-22T22:35:00.002-04:002009-03-23T10:39:47.408-04:00Weekend Exposure 31<div style="text-align: center;">?: ______________________<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">My answer can be found <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/popilop/250595702/">here.</a></div><div><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/popilop/250595702/"><br /></a></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/Sceev05FrrI/AAAAAAAAAoI/0VP4dR3DNO0/s400/250595702_61fe1bed96.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316392429623291570" /><br /><br /><div><br /><div><br /></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16568967-2704314806665961298?l=www.aummom.com'/></div>MeLnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16568967.post-63735866554041901572009-03-18T13:25:00.003-04:002009-03-18T13:36:15.925-04:00Dude.Yes, I said "Dude".  Let it go, I do that sometimes.  I can't help it; it's the healthy dose of California in my soul.  If you understood the Tao of <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0106233/">Mitchell Goosen</a>, you would get it.  Also, did you know Jack Black and Seth Green were also in that movie? Way before they were famous. Weird.<div>Rambling today, sorry.  It's just that the sun is shining and the air is clear and it smells really good.  Today would probably be a great day to get out in the front yard and start clearing brush for the spring.  But I'm thinking the alignment of the stars could be against it, since I just tried to pull some raisins out of the cupboard and found the cabinet shelf was unhinged.  And then when I tried to fix it, some lonely, misbegotten package of Fun Dip spilled off the shelf and fell all over me.  That stuff is messy.  I fixed the shelf though. Oh, and I do realize my grammar today is even worse than usual.  *shrug*  It's Wednesday.</div><div>But all in all I have spent this week in a flurry of anxiety and apprehension.  No, it's a good thing! Really!  See, I somehow stumbled into baking cakes as a hobby.  You know - making them ever cooler and more complicated for the boys' birthdays.  I love doing it; it's like art and sculpture and .. uh... cake! all in one.  So when a friend asked to hire me to do a cake for her daughter I was all "sure, why not?" And then it turned out really awesome and my husband and my friend were all "You should so do this as a business" and I was all "meh. I'm no good at business..." but then that one cake order turned into another order, and another one.. and maybe another.  And BAM! just like that, I'm in business.  </div><div>So now in addition to the <a href="http://aummom.etsy.com/">etsy</a> shop (which is doing better off line than on) I'm booking orders for <a href="http://melcakes.blogspot.com/">unique and awesome cakes</a>.  And the best part? Now all those hours of "Ace of Cakes" that I watch on the Food Network can totally be rationalized as research.  heh.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16568967-6373586655404190157?l=www.aummom.com'/></div>MeLnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16568967.post-4092399768230426292009-03-16T19:35:00.003-04:002009-03-16T19:38:45.357-04:00Spending Time Staring...<div style="text-align: center;">...at the cuteness.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/Sb7iw5DToxI/AAAAAAAAAlc/UN9X5C857Ao/s1600-h/IMG_4802.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/Sb7iw5DToxI/AAAAAAAAAlc/UN9X5C857Ao/s400/IMG_4802.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313933939920053010" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">He can put his feet in his mouth now.  And I am swooning over this. Because I can.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/Sb7iwlFsoeI/AAAAAAAAAlU/zzm69U9mF0I/s1600-h/IMG_4803.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/Sb7iwlFsoeI/AAAAAAAAAlU/zzm69U9mF0I/s400/IMG_4803.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313933934561370594" /></a><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16568967-409239976823042629?l=www.aummom.com'/></div>MeLnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16568967.post-10154770344722324992009-03-03T11:35:00.003-05:002009-03-03T11:51:39.621-05:00Like A Prairie Dog. Or Maybe Whack-A-Mole?If you've been following the weekend exposure photos, you probably have a pretty good idea of how I've been feeling lately - even though I have been far and away from actually putting any of it into words.  So let me attempt to do that for you now.<div>Big Daddy T has a new job.  That's Good Thing one.  He's got a great job, he finally got a great management position (something he's been wanting for a long time now) and I can't tell you what a relief it is.  </div><div>Good Thing Two is that Tobin is officially potty-trained and, as of this morning, is attending preschool two mornings a week.  </div><div>Good Thing Three is that I am sitting here with my coffee, the baby is asleep, and I have a few moments of absolute solitude for the first time in a very long time.  I should be using this time to do something productive, and I intend to going forward, but for today I thought I should at least plug in for a few minutes.  You know, in case anyone thinks maybe I died or was abducted by aliens.  Or possibly that I drowned in the world's largest latte (which, hey, let's face it: Not a bad way to go!)</div><div>I've been doing my best lately to follow my mantra and Live Life On Purpose.  That has involved a lot less computer time (despite what my husband might think) and a lot more time doing things like switching to cloth diapers for Milo (gDiapers, I love you so much I might put you in my will!) and attempting to shake my self-ascribed title of "World's Worst Homemaker EVER."  This is a two-step process: Step One, stop calling myself that. Step Two, stop actually being that.  </div><div>Does this even make any sense? Probably no.  But I've been brain-bereft lately.  I'm learning to accept my limitations and stop worrying about making everyone else happy.  It's not an easy thing to do, but I find that crafting helps.  Did I mention I'm making tutu's now?  Yeah. I really need to get photos done and list a few more things on the <a href="http://aummom.etsy.com">Etsy</a> site.  Things like superhero capes! And tutus! (I know I said tutus twice. They are Just. That. Awesome.)</div><div>So now that I've rambled on and on for quite some time, I'll cut to the chase for anyone still following along at home.  I'd like to say I will be posting more frequently (not to mention coherently) and perhaps with fewer parenthetical asides.  I'd LIKE to say that, but the truth is I will probably continue to post somewhat sporadically for the foreseeable future.  Life just keeps getting busier and if I think too much about it I stop actually living it; blogging with regularity requires a lot of the "thinking about it".  I'm turning over a new leaf of sorts, though it's hard to explain exactly when I'm still on the first cuppa the day.  </div><div>I've lost 10 pounds, I'm working on getting to bed by 10:30 and up by 6:30, and I have acquired a jogging stroller so I can start getting my body back.  There's a lot to say about ALL of this, but I'm not sure I have the wherewithal to say any of it right now.  See how this happens? Too much to say, not enough words. </div><div>So I'm on a sort of hiatus this year.  I'm not gone, I'll be back now and again, but I think I need a reprieve.</div><div>Then again, I could change my mind tomorrow.  I'm funny that way.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16568967-1015477034472232499?l=www.aummom.com'/></div>MeLnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16568967.post-25560482147111625712009-03-01T22:45:00.003-05:002009-03-03T11:35:14.717-05:00Weekend Exposure 28<div style="text-align: center;">?: What fear have you recently faced?</div><div style="text-align: center;">My answer can be found <a href="http://flickr.com/photos/tdoxie/2180996426/">here</a>.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YQm2VqjCz9Y/SavjU1UdUPI/AAAAAAAAAC0/DY7nRI2yLzc/s1600-h/Picture+1.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YQm2VqjCz9Y/SavjU1UdUPI/AAAAAAAAAC0/DY7nRI2yLzc/s400/Picture+1.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308586532836036850" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16568967-2556048214711162571?l=www.aummom.com'/></div>T.http://www.blogger.com/profile/13253569050800762318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16568967.post-72784475596008572582009-02-23T11:27:00.005-05:002009-02-23T11:31:43.524-05:00Weekend Exposure 27<div style="text-align: center;">?: What are you following</div><div style="text-align: center;">My answer can be found <a href="http://flickr.com/photos/lightchaser/322845787/">here</a>.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/SaLPJ9B6YkI/AAAAAAAAAlE/5wFl9EZvDqY/s1600-h/322845787_752848c872.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/SaLPJ9B6YkI/AAAAAAAAAlE/5wFl9EZvDqY/s400/322845787_752848c872.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306031080904221250" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16568967-7278447559600857258?l=www.aummom.com'/></div>MeLnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16568967.post-42553379325315222722009-02-16T12:04:00.002-05:002009-02-16T12:11:21.505-05:00Weekend Exposure 26<div style="text-align: center; ">?: Where is your heart?<br /></div><div style="text-align: center; ">My answer can be found <a href="http://flickr.com/photos/libellule/3075365686/">here</a>.</div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/SZmeEHdd2MI/AAAAAAAAAkw/AknZape11LU/s1600-h/3074542195_eac9dba3f7.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gWDDZkgf-54/SZmeEHdd2MI/AAAAAAAAAkw/AknZape11LU/s400/3074542195_eac9dba3f7.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303443829764774082" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16568967-4255337932531522272?l=www.aummom.com'/></div>MeLnoreply@blogger.com2