Ok, I know it isn't Friday, but with the way things are going around here being Spring and all, I figured I better post this now or it will be Black Friday instead of Good Friday by the time I get around to it. :)
Have a Happy Easter.
Hope the Easter Bunny brings y'all lots of marshmallow gooiness and way too much chocolate!
For the love, I am not sure which is worse. The wind or the mud. I am leaning towards mud even though it is something I should be able to control. The mud has taken over my life, inside and out. So much so we have renamed Mattie the "Mud Flap" because that dog comes in covered in so much muck on her belly. She then proceeds to plop herself down on our bed and make herself at home. The amount of grit she leaves behind even after a sponge bath outside the door before coming in is just insane. This is why I will continue to pine for a white duvet cover with ruffles because sadly one will never see the inside of my home. I am sure Dave is not too torn up about that vision to be honest with you.
Although thinking about it, I have been into ruffles of all sorts lately. Maybe it is the hormones, but I suspect it has something to do with Calla. We went and saw Disney on Ice last week for her birthday and that child was covered from head to toe in ruffles. We are talking ruffled sweater, ruffled top, skirt with at least 25 layers of ruffles, and a matching Build a Bear bunny in ruffles as well. I guess it could be worse she could be sporting a fedora and sword a la her doppleganger Shiloh Jolie Pitt. But hey, we will love her in whatever she chooses to wear. And the funniest part of it all. I bought the stinkin clothes! Ha!
I attempted to simplify my life this week. I typically feel kind of manic this time of year because work is starting to pick up, but things are still uncertain and you just hope the phone starts to ring. I figure if I can simplify things then I might not feel so manic. However one might say, "Cara you live in a 900 sq ft. home and have all of your shoes labeled in clear boxes, and read organizing books for fun, for God's sake how much more simple do you need to be?"
Well, I checked out a book from the library on the Amish and Dave decided I finally went off the deep end. After looking at the gorgeous pictures of their simple life, chickens, and beautiful farms, I thought for a brief second how nice it would be to be Amish. Then I did what I normally do, and randomly called my sister at noon and told her I was thinking how nice it would be to be Amish. She calmly explained to me that in order to be Amish I would have to give up Starbucks, all of the silly purchases from the dollar bin at Target, makeup from Sephora, my bag problem, Direct Tv, the Gap, and my iphone. Oh yeah, I would also have to give up my car for a buggy. This would never work since I am allergic to horses. Not to mention I would finally have to learn how to use my sewing machine and start going to church more often then Christmas and Easter. Geeze Louise, after putting it out there how much unecessary stuff I have come to depend on, but not necessarily need to live, I was starting to look like a front runner for a spot on next season's cast of the Jersey Shore. She then proceeded to change the subject and asked me if I was thinking like an Amish person what would they use to get red marker out of the hair of her child who now has pink hair.
With the lovely thoughts of the Amish and simplifing things fresh on my mind, I figured it was time to clean out my closet. It was Spring after all, and I was feeling somewhat springy. The clean feeling lasted for all of 5 minutes until I did the laundry and felt manic all over again just by looking at the 5 loads sitting there not putting itself away. What are you going to do......
I guess what it all boils down to in the end is I need to quit trying to control the things I can't, and stop trying to be perfect about everything in the attempt that my life might be easier if it was. Now the Amish are not perfect, but they are content with what they are given. So on that note, I have decided to adopt some of the Amish lifestyle into my own to give me a little bit of peace. When this wind stops I will hang my clean bedding out on the clothes line above my sleeping mud flap of a dog. Knowing full well she is dreaming of what it will be like to curl up and bury her head and crusty paws into a fresh clean quilt. I will stop chasing my chickens who have decided they are liberating themselves and going to be free range whether I like it or not. To be realistic I am also accepting that things don't change overnight, so on that note I booked an appointment with my hairstylist so she can fix the thick mop growing out of my head. If all goes well, I might just stop for sushi and a pedicure afterwards. What it all comes down to in the end and what I have learned about myself is that I am officially a hot mess !!!!
PS. No pics of ruffles right now. Kodak is not cooperating :(
I figured it was time to update this since I left everyone with lovely visions of poop and puke.
Anyway moving on. I am considering myself Irish today. I take this credit since my last name is now Irish and I have been to Ireland. Therefore that officially makes my children Scotch Irish German Chamorros.
Two cheers of Baileys with a side of flan for the melting pot. Speaking of food I would like to report to you that I spent the morning consuming current scones, Irish soda bread with real butter, steel cut oatmeal, smoked salmon and farm fresh eggs. Sadly the only thing I have in common with that daydream of my morning breakfasts in Ireland is the egg part. There were consumed in a stuffed smothered green chili burrito since I had all of the ingredients in the fridge. Hey at least the chili was green. I did stop short of coloring the eggs green because A. they came out of a green shell already, and B. I have no time to be the creative Martha Stewart mommy this morning because I was busy chasing the freakin chickens around the property.
For the love they are naughty. After about a half an hour everyone was home again. If it wasn't for the coyotes and over abundance of hawks and eagles these days I would let them roam free.
Meanwhile I am still a bit sore from taking ballet last Sat.. I haven't taken class since I was about 5 mo pregnant. Yes it was easier to get the damn tights on then at Nutcracker 8.5 mo pregnant, but it was just as hard to bend forward and back. I guess the Tool tightened up everything real good while he was in there. I was doing just fine till the 11-15 yr olds decided to join the combined Company class that morning. Now I can't compare or compete with them since they do dance 6 days a week, and have leg extension over my head. No folks the disturbing part was when I did the math (not in my head of course but with the caculator on my phone) and realized they were old enough to be my kids with Dave and it not be considered a teenage pregnancy. This just made me feel really old and reminded me that I have been with Dave since 1995. Still I stuck in there, and managed to whip out a couple of triple pirouettes. Hoo Ra! I can still jump, but now my boobs and the rest of my body jumps after me. Did I look ridiculous, yes, but who cares it beat Jillian Michaels yelling at me from the TV. The only catch was I couldn't stand next to them during the center. I realized once I did they were 1/2 my size high and wide. But I do have experience on my side to fake it at least. Speaking of performing experiences I am evidentially headlining on the main stage at the Lincoln Center next week. I did not get the memo, however I figured it out on my way to the post office when I saw this:
No I am not Lady Smith, I am now Lady Doyle, but An Evening with Cara is scheduled on the 20th. Not sure what I am supposed to be performing, but I can promise you I will not be jumping out of a cake in my skimpies with tassles on my boobs singing Happy Birthday Mr. President. I am assuming since the letters are spaced out a bit, they stand for a nice respectable organization, a charity or something. Seriously I found the sign like this, and no Mom I did not rearrange the letters just for fun.
Which do you prefer? I personnaly don't prefer either, however if left to deal with one of the two mentioned bodily fluids I'll take poop any day. I know this sounds weird, but poop is well, just poop. You know it is going to smell, so you just suck it up and clean it up. It is typically contained in a diaper or underwear of sorts, unless there is a major blowout. Puke on the other hand takes you completely by surprise, and can smell very similar to whatever the person has been slowly digesting. Plus the violent projectile vomiting of the puke can land in various places, therefore making it harder to clean up. I am normally the sort of person who can handle either situation with an iron gut, but coming off a pregnancy where my gag reflex was very sensitive has left me a weenie. Now that you all are thoroughly grossed out I will explain why this morning I am writing about puke.
This little booger
I have spent the last week washing multiple loads of laundry because Calla caught the nasty 24 yuck that was going around. Her cousins who were in town visiting caught it first, and combine that with birthday parties and school, it was inevitable she would catch it. I can deal with a sick toddler. They just whine a lot and want to watch tv all day and snuggle with you. Heck, I can even deal with a sick man. They are pretty much like the toddler however they don't want to snuggle.
But a sick infant will rock your world. She may look innocent, but she can puke like nobody's business. I am thinking she has the same funk the others had . The worst part of it is I can't give her Coke products to make her feel better. Coke products always make me feel better. I am pretty much convinced Coke and Claritin allergy medicine will solve most problems and ailments. Look at me I am a Coke junkie and I hardly ever get sick. Or so I thought.......
I figured we were in the clear with Indie and I till she decided to puke on possibly the sweetest girl I dance with at a baby shower yesterday. No biggie right, just a little spit up. No people, this was not good. It suddenly occurred to me what I was in for that evening. It wouldn't have been so bad if I hadn't been feeling the same craptastic way. I managed not to puke, however all the poor baby did was throwup last night and into today. Needless to say I spent the evening hugging a bowl, my breast pump, and Indie. For the love, has it been 24 hrs yet, because I am starting to get really sick of cleaning up after the puke. Thank goodness Dave is still functioning as normal as possible given he plowed snow last night. So no birthday pictures from Calla's party as promised. When you try and take pictures of children around presents and cake and ice cream it is pretty much a hopeless cause for any good pictures. In the mean time, this is how Indie feels:
Me, I look 10 x's worse.
Off to take a shower, and throw in another load of laundry.