look out, webster's

I made up a new word last week.

Hoozybobbered.

It's more than flustered. More than distracted. More than overwhelmed. It's hoozybobbered.

It's my current state of being.

Can we talk about five year olds for a second? No, never mind. Scratch that. I don't want to go into all of the WHINING and the CALLING and the MAHMEEEEEEEE and the constant disregard for her father's feelings. And the talking. OHMYEVERLOVINGGOD, the talking.

{When the incessant chattering gets to be too much, I take a moment to be thankful that I have a child healthy enough to talk, and then I go back to plugging my ears.}

So, right. Not going to talk about five year olds.

I haven't been here much but my schedule at work is settling down. My goal is to try to write more regularly. I know. I know. But I'm going to try.

And hopefully the hoozybobberedness will subside. Or at least make room for the rest of life.

Here's to a sunny, word-filled summer.

i'm still here!

Hello, friends!

I just wanted to pop in and say that I've missed you and I have lots to tell you and show you and I'm hoping to find some time to make your dreams come true. Wait, what?

Life has been very lifelike lately, what with its BREATHING and its EATING. There's also been more working than before (new job!) and less driving (shortest commute ever!) and our Summer! of! Travel! kicked off with trips to Japan (Fred) and Arizona (me & Emma).

I haven't been taking as many pictures as I'd hoped, but things seem to be settling into a more predictable rhythm. Which means something. Maybe more pictures? Probably just more naps.

How's your summer so far?

don't mind me

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Doing some housekeeping...

nerves

{Dear Blogger: Kindly restore my comments from my previous post. Kisses, Me.}

I was going to do a Mother's Day post today, but that's going to have to wait because I have to tell you about my dream.

Wait! Don't go! 

I know, dreams suck for everyone except the dreamer. But I will try my best to keep the suckage to a minimum.

So, on my list of things I wanted to tell you was the invitation I designed. See, last year I got my Master's and we tossed around the idea of having a party. We'd lived in the area for a couple of years, made a few friends, and thought that having them over for a BBQ would be fun. I'm not sure why we decided against it at the time, but we had no party at our house. 

But! Now we've lived here THREE years, and know even MORE people, and so somehow it seemed like a better idea to have a party. I think senility must be setting in. We sat down and drafted a list of people, gulped loudly, and decided to forge ahead, space limitations be damned. I designed an invite and sent it off yesterday.

{i have no idea what happened to the background. it's supposed to be red. i'm going to blame Blogger for this as well.}

Here's the good part!

Last night, I had a dream that it was the evening of our party. I had no cups. I had neglected to buy food so was scrounging around in the freezer looking for something to serve. One of our guests had moved my stove (he said it made for better traffic flow) but had not hooked up the gas line so I couldn't cook. To drink we had one very old bottle of cheap white wine, one small bottle of seltzer water, and one Greek wine cooler. I have no idea if those even exist.

I woke up half laughing, half freaking out. The party is in July. I think I'll go shopping this weekend. Just to be safe.

honesty

Do you know all the things I want to tell you about?

I want to write a Mother's Day post.

I want to write an anniversary post {me & Fred -- EIGHT years, ya'll}.

I want to write a garden post.

I want to show you the invite I designed.

I can still do all of those things, right?

Today I want to show you my view. This is my desk:

Let's see, left to right, we have: a mouse with no batteries; card reader; empty jar; my attempt at organization; nail polish, because DUH; our tickets from Disney World {from November}; and a car Emma made from a crayon box and two wine corks.

I'm not even going to show you my "craft table." Let's all just imagine that it looks like it did in this post and we'll all be happier. 

searching

I'm trying to find my rhythm here.

(I'm also trying to spell rhythm correctly. Took me four times. Oh, brain -- why do you insist on leaving?)

I really thought I had a schedule going but I realized I was posting so little content. Pictures, music videos... but not a lot of writing. And -- call me crazy! -- I like writing. I think I'm kind of good at it. Sometimes. I've been spending some time thinking about what I want this space to be, how I want it to look, what I want it to say. Still figuring it out. I'll let you know when I do.

I also want to tell you a story about new! exciting! things! going on but, of course, I sat down to write this when I should be getting ready to leave the house, so the story will have to wait. I will tell you that right now the sun is shining, I'm sweating from having my ass kicked by Jillian, and this song is playing on repeat, making me smile.

I'll be back soon with that story. Promise.

highs & lows [may 1]

Jennifer at Life, Crafts, & Whatever has started a new party and I'm jumping in feet first. Thanks for hosting, Jennifer! 

From last Sunday to this Saturday, we list our highs and lows for the week.
Highs:

• Fred wrote a song for my birthday. Really.
• Then he babysat our friends' kids when I was worried I had strep throat and didn't want to infect them all.
• Spending the weekend with Fred's parents
• Taking on my first radical craft project. There was sandpaper and spray paint involved. For one brief moment I was totally channeling Norm from This Old House. Minus the flannel.

Lows:

• Apparently, your birthday only lasts for one day. I think this is crap.
• Waiting. Waiting sucks. 
• See above re: possible strep throat. I never went and got my throat swabbed and I had one blissful day free from pain. It started to hurt again yesterday, and yes, still hurts today. But more like I've been to an awesome concert where I spent three hours screaming in musical bliss. Do you know that kind of sore throat?
• Trying to convince my kid she's not the Ruler of the Universe (please say that out loud in an echoey voice). This is hard to do when you've spent most of your own life thinking the same thing. Because, kid? There can only be one.