Waiting ...

Michael's in class ... well, he should be OUT of class now. Probably getting into the truck and on his way home.

We just went through the bedtime routine. Finished the last Ramona Quimby book (Ramona's World).
The kids are having one more bathroom break ... stalling for time, I think.

I still haven't taken a shower. I need one.

I'm tired. Have been all day.
Did I take a nap? Oh no. That'd be too easy.
Maybe I'll get one tomorrow.
Maybe I'll do housework tomorrow.
Maybe I'll clean the car ... tomorrow.

We'll see.

Today has been a day of tears. Bruise cried that he didn't want to take a nap.
I tried to get him to lay his grumpy buns down ... but I kinda knew that he wasn't going to.

Bucket cried because two boys were sitting behind her (and two of her friends) and laughing. And the boys had been saying her name ... so she's SURE they were laughing at her.
LOTS of tears on that account.
My poor, sensitive little tulip.
She takes after her mother, poor thing.
(And it's only taken me, WHAT, three decades to be able to deal ... well, to be able to deal MOST of the time. Even through high school, I'd get set-off VERY easily. It's not easy being sensitive AND hormonal AND angsty. Oh gosh, that's what I'm going to get to look forward to dealing with in the next ten years ... Lord, give me strength. I'm going to NEED it.
And to maybe get her a prescription of Xanax or Prozac or something. Oy.)

The kids gave up the chance to have popsicles for dessert ... they complained too much about dinner (homemade hamburger helper-type stovetop casserole). It was good. I don't know what THEIR problem was. ... Eventually, their problem was NOT earning a popsicle for dessert.

I had a popsicle.
I ate MY dinner.
So THERE.

Okay ... I think that wraps up most of today.
I need a shower. And I want one before Michael gets home. So I better hop (or lumber, really) in the shower.

I also noticed today, as I wore my black wool coat to walk to and from the bus stop ... I pretty much am walking like a penguin.
A 5'5" penguin.
With brown boots.

Oh well.

At least my feet and calves aren't swollen (and looking like they belong to a gal about 100+ pounds heavier than I am) anymore.
Yay for prayer!
Yes, I did pray for a vain thing like that.
After preeclampsia, I've taken QUITE a bit of pride in how svelte the tops of my feet and my ankles have looked since the water retention went away.
It's the little things, y'all.
And that's a little thing that's PRETTY DARN IMPORTANT to me these last six years (well, nearly six years. It took a few weeks to lose all of that. But it was gone shortly after Valentine's Day 2006, when I had my 6-week appointment ... And Dr. M was pleasantly surprised to find that I lost SO much weight since I last saw her [I think I was below my pre-pregnancy weight. Or, at least, VERY close to it. Yup, that was a LOT of water retention plus babies, placentas, blood volume, amniotic fluid, etc. that I had been carting around.] ... And I think she was kinda shocked that I had already started my period ... while nursing TWO children. Within SIX WEEKS of giving birth. ... Yeah, I think my body's insane sometimes. "Hey, we just pushed out two kids. We're sleep-deprived. We're looking forward to a couple years of breastfeeding. LET'S POP OUT SOME MOAR KIDZ!!!1!" ... Um, NO. Let's take a breather, M'kay?).

Okay. I'm shutting up so I can get a shower.
And tell the kiddos to GET. IN. THEIR. SWEARWORD. BEDS.
(No, really ... if you haven't already watched that YouTube video, you should. It cracks me up.)

Nighty-night!!

Belated-ness

I'll open with the reason that I haven't blogged here in FOREVER.















They're cute, huh? (And even if you don't agree, just nod your head and smile, since I am the one who spent 36+/- weeks incubating this dynamic duo.)

My Bri is trying to get me to blog here on a more regular basis (she's even trying to persuade me to give up my Diaryland site! I've been there about three years, crazily enough. It started just as a place to blog crazy dreams, but is now my little blog-lifeline ... we'll see where my loyalty manifests itself.)

Now, I'm a little nervous about the whole picture uploading-thing. This is taking a dang long while. That scares me just a tad. Maybe you won't be seeing the reason thatI never have the time to blog anywhere except my primary (aka Diaryland).

Geez, I'm just blathering on and on, aren't I? I could just start talking about Bruiser and Bucket (the kiddos) ... but that's so ... sterotypical of motherhood, right?

Ah-HA! It's loaded!! Hmm, not the best pic of my Bucket ... she's really a very pretty baby. Just ask my Bri. She'll set you straight if you're in doubt.

Since I now KNOW that the pictures do load, I can load more later! (Since my sloooooooow connection takes just short of friggin' FOREVER.)

So, I'll just TELL you about my munchkins. (Oh, NOW the pics load. Of course, murphy's law.)




Bruiser-bear is older by two minutes. He's totally got the crawling-thing down, although it can sound funny. He'll slap down his right hand and left knee and then follow with a quick succession of left hand-then-right-knee. If you don't know what you're hearing, you could almost mistake it for Samara's limping gait in The Ring. He's a cuddler. Today he finally started talking with a consonant. He's been "Bah buh bahbuh uh uh uh"-ing all afternoon. His favorite thing? Food, definitely. He's such a flirt with the ladies (of any age and in any condition, really).



Bucket is the quintessial little princess, although her daddy is determined that she'll be able to take any guy or gal out there in a fair fight. And he's right. She has such determination and independence that it blows my mind. She loves bathtime and being free to do her own thing ... especially chasing after Diana-cat. Whenever Bucket falls, it's a Broadway production of a little crying fit. Unless she notices that no one's watching. (She'll be embarassed in about ten years that I write this, but this girl can projectile vomit!! She got her dad in the mouth once ... she's also got down my shirt and one of her grandmas' shirt, too! ... She's over that now, but if she gets too worked up, she'll cry until she throws up.) (I'm SURE she's glad that I've included that.)

I'm still a regular (or as regular as I can be) blogger over at diaryland. Like usual. I still haven't made the cross over. Yet. But I keep thinking about it.
Thinking long and hard. Very hard, indeed.

Until then, this is going to be a sporadic thing. Until I get myself in gear.