It's Just That Time of Year

Other people have photos from their awkward pre-teen years that look a little something like this: braces, weird haircut, bad clothing choices, bad makeup choices, lukewarm smile and a facial expression that reads "I know I look terrible. Hopefully this is just a phase."

At least those kids had the decency to look embarrassed.

My pre-teen pictures look more like this: braces, weird haircut, bad clothing choices, bad makeup choices, huge smile and a facial expression that reads "I know I look fabulous. Hopefully this is not just a phase. Hats with large sunflowers glued to them will surely always be in style. Why? Because I'm rocking this one." At this moment I, like you, am wishing that I owned a scanner so that you could view one of the infamous sunflower hat pictures.

But lately, as a mom of two children, when I look in the mirror... I see this:

Uncle Fester. With a bob.

My eyes look like that.

Where did that fabulous girl with the sassy sunflower hat go?

Thank God for concealer. I need sleep. Really, truly, I am tired.

Chris is great enough to bathe Carolena and put her to bed, then give Nils a bottle so that I can go to bed at 6... but the circles under my eyes would have you believe a different story. Yesterday he surprised me by bringing home a special dinner for us. While we were setting the table I looked at Chris and gestured to my entire physical being, "This is me... holding it together. This is what I look like and things are going really well... better than we could have hoped."

And my wonderful husband replied, "You're beautiful. You just have a winter complexion right now."

Yes, that's what we'll call it! My "winter complexion." It's not that I haven't left the house in a month. It's not that I haven't had a good night of sleep in about four months. It's simply due to the season... it's winter... of course I have my winter complexion. Duh.

Now where did I put my straw hat, fake sunflowers, and glue gun? I've got some pale skin and dark eyes to rock.

En Garde!

Chris (with the generous help of his father) just finished tearing down our old fence and built a beautiful new one for our backyard. This is awesome in that our backyard is much nicer and safer now.

But, most importantly, there is now a huge pile of old fence in our backyard.

Perhaps some women would see that as a negative. I, however, am not "most women." Chris is dying to move the pile out to the curb and get the backyard to a cleaner state. How could my Leona side let him throw away something that can be so easily repurposed? And how could I throw away something that keeps talking to me?

Oh, now might be a good time to mention that I tend to over-personify inanimate objects...

Nonetheless, here are some of the phrases posts from the heap keep calling out to me:

"Caaassseeeyyyy... I want to be a signnnnn... for youurrr laundry rooommm... you know what I should say... paiinntttt meeee..."

"Caaassseeeyyyy... I want to be hunggg on  a walll toooo... but first I need some paint and hoookkkksss... I will be functional and beautiful... pllleeasseee..."

"Caaassseeeyyyy... I want to be a tablllle... a small one... for the new deckkkk... I promise to look good and holddd your drinks and bookssss while you recline on yourrrr deckkkk..."

So, I've got some work to do. I can't deny those little posts their new desires. They've had to hang around staring at an ugly backyard for the past ten years. It's time they had a little fun.

This is Dedicated... to the {Mom} Iiiiiii Lllllllloooovveeee...

Dear Lefty,
First of all, hopefully you got the Shirelles reference in the title of this post. You should have, given that the Shirelles was in fact one of the first cds I ever owned. You and Dad got me a cd player for Christmas one year along with two cds - Shirelles... and... pop quiz... can you guess who the other cd was by?

I figured I should update my blog since you are probably checking here and Jet and Bean more often given that you are holed up with a hook for a hand. Poor Buster Moom.

Things to make you feel better:
1. Your hand will in fact get better and was not bitten off by a loose seal.
2. No one asked you the gender of your unborn child while you were innocently buying health food at Kroger yesterday. Sheesh, Abominable Snowman Kroger employee, lay off. I had a baby a week ago. Can't you see that my cart is filled with salad? What pregnant woman would buy salad instead of Doritos?
3. These two munchkins will be thrilled to see you in just a few short weeks. Your job will consist of snuggling and watching chick flicks. Wait... can you drive left handed? Hmm... should I come to Beaumont instead?

4. Pete's Dragon will be returned to the library before your arrival.
5. I love you a bushel and a peck. A bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck!

It's a BOY!

Nils Morgan Duncan was born last week and in the words of his pediatrician, "you guys, he's perfect."

Yes, he is in fact... perfect.

Nils, we love you to the moon and back.

Parenthood

Motherhood means spending time each morning with makeup remover and a q-tip only to recall, "oh yeah... that's not makeup... I'm just tired." Every. Single. Day.

Motherhood means offering to kiss you child's thumb so that it will feel better and then realizing your kid is saying that her "tongue" is hurt.

Motherhood means comforting your child after she throws up on the living room carpet, changing her into clean pajamas, and helping her brush her teeth and get snuggled on the couch to watch a movie.

Fatherhood is coming home to a wife who recommends that you clean the carpet as soon as possible.

Excuse Me, Are You Using that Twig? No? Mind if I Take it?

Just when the world thought I couldn't get any more like my mother... this morning I walked around our house vacuuming up small toys and hairbands while indiscriminately throwing things into a box to bring to KCM. Some mothers nest by bringing things into the house. I nest by getting things out.

Chris has been nesting too. His nesting has consisted of taking down our Christmas tree and decorations and carefully packing all of the boxes back into the attic. This is the first year of my entire life we've taken down Christmas stuff before the 12th day... we are in full force nesting around here. He pulled all of the baby stuff out of the attic (why do babies have so much stuff??), washed everything, and brought it into the house. He even cleaned out my car which, judging from the size of the box of crap he brought inside for me to go through, must have been no easy feat. Chris' final act of nesting appears to be building a new fence in our backyard. Although, I'm not sure it technically counts as "nesting" if we got a letter from our HOA telling us to hurry up and build our new fence...

Carolena is nesting by rediscovering all of her old baby things. Every time she finds something new we hear a scream of high pitched delight (and I mean really high pitched) as she shouts, "this was baby Carolena's!" Her baby dolls, as well as Teddy Ruxpin and Minnie Mouse, have all enjoyed getting tucked into the bouncy chair and car seat. I've enjoyed watching her tuck in her babies as they each receive a gentle kiss, have their hair brushed back from their faces (or rather, in their cases, their heads lightly patted as none of them has any hair), and a blankie pulled up to their chins.

Well, seeing as how there are crock pot meals to assemble and put into our freezer for the end of this month I guess I'd better go snuggle up in my bed with some old Twilight Zone episodes and hope those ingredients chop and organize themselves!