Feline Fight Club

In the wee hours of this morning, David hears a ruckus going on outside. Not being able to quite figure out what it is, he gets out of bed to discover two fighting cats on our back deck. (Side note: We don't own cats.) They are making the most horrendous noise known to man and they're actually slamming each other into the side of our house. David manages to scare them away, but not until the damn cats have succeeded in riling up the neighbor's dogs. So, by 4am the neighborhood has been treated with the early morning serenade of screaching cats accompanied by two barking retrievers and a shitzu. David quickly scans the deck, terrified that the cats killed something and that it was blood-staining our new deck. Thankfully, the deck was clean and there was no sign in the yard of any injured woodland creatures. (We have numerous bunnies that take up residence in our yard. It's really kind of cute--they each have their own little "apartments". Bunny 1 on the rock pile, Bunny 2 in the lilac hedge, Bunny 3 under the deck.....you get the idea.) David saunters back to bed. I can't believe it, but Sofia and I slept through the whole thing.

Later, while we were pouring our coffee, I mentioned to David that he still looked tired. His one-phrase response before telling the whole story: "Feline Fight Club".

And the Oscar Goes To...

So, the doorbell rings and Sofia walks right in front of the door. I'm in PJ's, hair is in a ponytail, no make-up, and glasses are on, but there's no pretending no one's home. I open the door (holding Sofia), and the gentleman on the porch proceeds to ask me if he can demonstrate a Kirby vaccuum cleaner.

Now, before you get upset and say, "Amber--what's the matter with you?! You're home alone with a baby and you opened the door to a guy claiming he's a vaccuum salesman? How naive are you?! Have you never watched 'Oprah' or 'Dateline'?!" But, this same guy stopped at my parents' home a couple weeks ago and actually demonstrated the Kirby vaccuum. (Sidebar: Why my mom actually sat through the demonstration when she had absolutely no intention of buying the vaccuum, I don't know. Something about him getting $25 from the company just for demo-ing the thing, I think.) But, I digress. So, here's how the conversation proceeds:

Me: Thanks for checking, but we don't have any carpet in our house, and I'm home with a sick baby.

Him: No carpet at all?

Me: Nope, only hardwood and tile.

Him: Well, it also works great on hardwood and tile!

Me: I'm sure it does, but with her being sick, now is not a good time.

Sofia: (in my arms with her face buried in my neck) Begins coughing and sniffing deeply.

Him: Well, if we get back to this neighborhood next week, I can stop back, if that's OK.

Me: OK, thanks!

Sofia: Cough, cough, deep sniff.

Upon closing the door, I cracked up laughing and looked at Sofia, who removed her face from the crook of my neck. She smiled & laughed and I swear I saw those big brown eyes start to sparkle again...

Teething Bites

It's not quite 1:00pm on a Thursday, and I'm blogging from home. Wish it was a vacation day, but my baby girl is home sick. Nothing serious, but it still makes me sad. You can always tell when she isn't feeling well--the ever-present sparkle in her eyes disappears.

She's been trying to cut her incisors for about a month now, and they're finally getting the best of her. Yesterday was a really rough day for her with my parents (she cried and cried and didn't want David to leave her yesterday morning--she NEVER does that), and the night was not much better. She hates teething rings (always has)and the only thing that she really ever wants when she's teething is to bite on her pacifier. No cold washcloths, no Orajel, nothing--she rejects it all. She's a tough cookie, that's for sure. I did give her some Tylenol before bed, but her sleep still wasn't very deep. At about 6am I decided enough was enough--she just needed a day to snuggle up with her mama and feel better. I ran to work and prepared for a sub and then came back home so David could get ready for work. She watched her daily episode of "Mickey Mouse Clubhouse" (today we used clues to solve Minnie's mystery, in case you missed it--ha!) and ate some yogurt and scrambled eggs for breakfast. Then we snuggled, colored, played with her favorite flash cards, had some apple juice, and she helped me fold some laundry. She loves laundry. Stay that way, darling daughter--be better than your mother. Ha!

Daddy came home at lunch to check in on his girl, and right after she was done eating, she took my hand and led me into our bedroom. I put her in our bed and the girl was out like a light in no time. Poor little thing--hope she can sleep restfully and feel better.

Here's hoping Little Miss Sparkle Eyes is back tomorrow!

I Think We All Have Cabin Fever...

That, my friends, is my daughter passed out asleep on her sled. What kind of kid falls asleep while sledding? One that is tired of winter, that's what. While hilarious as all get out, I think there's a deeper meaning to my little Sledding Sleeping Beauty-- there's a spreading epidemic of the Winter Blahs.

You see, living where we do, it's common knowledge that we're going to have a good 5 months of winter--at the very least. It's not unusual for the kids up in this neck of the woods to have to go trick-or-treating in their snowpants and boots. It's pretty much standard to own a snow blower. We consider zero degrees Farenheit "not so bad". Don't get me wrong, I love a white Christmas, sledding, and snow angels as much as the next person; but I cannot wait for Spring, and I don't think I'm alone.

The sparkly blanket of white that covers our city is beginning to dull. My baby girl fights putting on the hat and mittens a little bit more each day. If my husband has to shovel us out one more morning before leaving for work, he's going to snap. Our community as a whole seems to have its crabby pants on as of late, and I'm right there with them. Everywhere you turn you see scowling, hear the cursing of the cold and snow, and you could probably even smell the cold if your nostrils weren't frozen together. The kids at school are just owly and cranky because they haven't been able to go outside for recess.

There is a desperate need to throw open the windows and let fresh air wash through our cozy little bungalow. I need to see green lawns and colorful flower beds again. I long for the sound and smell of mowing the lawn. I want to be able to order my warm-weather coffee. (Yes, what I order at the coffee shop changes with the seasons--don't judge me. There just seems something wrong about drinking an iced Americano during a blizzard...are ya with me?)

So, maybe I can will warmer weather our direction... Today I packed away the red and pink-ness that covered our house in Valentine's Day beauty and made way for the St. Patrick's Day clovery goodness. We went shopping yesterday and purchased a few new items for my Spring wardrobe. We've even got Sofia's Easter dress all ready to go. Can Spring (and my iced Americano) be far behind...?

Amber and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad President's Day Weekend

Do you ever feel like you've completely dropped every single ball you're trying to juggle? That's me. In fact, I don't even know why I'm sitting here blogging instead of doing the dozens of things I should be getting done.

I have a class all day tomorrow and Thursday that I need to finish homework for. I have an entire book to read for starters--I've known that I have to read it since about December, but lately the only reading I get done is "I Love Monkey", or "Knuffle Bunny", or the "Pokey Little Puppy"--you get the idea. By the time Sofia goes to bed at night, I'm wiped. And then I muster up the energy it takes to finish the highest priority item that's been placed on the back burner. (Usually means re-running the washing machine because I ran a load a day or two ago, but got distracted and forgot to throw it in the dryer; washing the supper dishes; ironing a pair of pants and shirt for David for work tomorrow; going over lesson plans for work the next day and then falling into bed. Crap! Get up and go throw those towels into the dryer or you'll be washing them again tomorrow!)

My house is always a disaster. Always. Right now you can't see the top of my dining room table, there are dust bunnies in almost every corner of the floor, and the basement is still ripped apart. Because the basement's ripped apart, half of its contents are in my upstairs and the other half are crammed into my storage room downstairs. Everywhere I look, there's sh**. (When will these renovation projects end?!) We had a plumbing disaster on Saturday when I apparently exceeded the limits of the garbage disposal but didn't realize it. Both sides of the basin sink downstairs were full of water and disposaled (is that even a word?!?!) food. Everything was working fine upstairs at the kitchen sink, so the only reason I discovered the problem was because I went to go put a load of laundry into the machine. I ran and got David, because hell if I know how to fix it, and in the process of him fixing it, the trap of the basin sink gave out and we had a nasty mess all over the laundry room/work shop area. I knew it was bad when I heard, "!@#$%^--Call an aunt!". Eight minutes later, my sister was here and David and I were ankle deep in water and what used to be the forgotten leftovers in the refrigerator. Fast forward to Sunday and me trying to clean the rest of the house and wash all the towels, rugs, and rags that were wet and filthy from the mess yesterday. In the process, I mention to my husband that my stress level regarding this house has reached its limit. A discussion ensues, and said discussion turns into an argument. A big one. Probably would have been bigger, but Sofia was up. Steam is still coming out of my ears, by the way. It's now Monday (Happy President's Day, by the way), and after a trip to the dentist this morning (and a return visit scheduled for March because I have a cavity. What the hell? What 29-year old still gets cavities?)I returned home to my husband working on my sister's wedding invitation design and my mom and other sister watching Sofia. As Mom is leaving, she says, "Why don't you send your ironing with me. If I don't do it, it won't get done. I know how things go around here." REALLY?!?! Like I don't feel enough guilt? Because I enjoy feeling like a failure of a homemaker, wife, and mother?!

I work full time and am trying to raise a daughter and keep house with a husband who works over 70 hours a week (I kid you not.) It's not that he doesn't want to be home-- he's just trying to provide for his family as best he can and get these renovations finished. (Although, his renovation addiction is part of the fuel for this fire..............but that's a topic for another day........) It's just so hard to get everything done and meet expectations. Expectations that I mostly have of myself. I am just too Type-A. And probably read too much of "Real Simple" and "Better Homes and Gardens" than is healthy for my self-esteem.

Off I go. I need to get homework done and go scrub the bathroom. And Google "cleaning ladies". I wonder how that would go over...

I've decided...

that I just might be the world's worst blogger. I have such grand visions of keeping this blog up-to-date and full of lovely photos. In reality, I have a lonely, ignored blog. Not that I don't have good intentions--it's just that my laundry, ironing, toothpaste-crusted bathroom sink, and piled-full-of-mail dining room table are usually just as ignored. And let's face it: When push comes to shove, I'm going to take care of those things over my blog, because unexpected guests aren't going to see this internet space from my front door. (You can, however, see straight into the bathroom.)

In the eons since I've been here, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's have come and gone, and along the way many more fond memories have been made in our nutshell. Sofia, being the ripe-old age of 18 months, was much more aware of Christmas this year, and enjoyed not one, not two, but three Christmas celebrations. By Round 3, she really had the opening gifts thing down, and decided it would be best if she opened everyone's presents for them.

In with all the happy, we've also had the sad; as is the way with life. In early December, David's grandmother passed away. She was 94 and suffered from Alzheimer's. While it was a blessing for her to pass and finally be at peace, she is dearly missed by all of us who loved her and her squiggly-line rulers :)

There is much more to say, but not enough time right now to get it all out. Here's a sign-off in hopes that I'm able to return soon!

Breaking a 4-Month Hiatus

In some respects I can't believe it was June when last I sat down to write, and in others, I'm not entirely surprised. I'm a wife, a teacher, and a mother of a sixteen-month old--I feel lucky when I have time to wash the make-up off my face before I collapse into bed each night.

When I wrote my last post, it was warm and green outside. I had that relaxed, "ahh, vacation" aura around me that only a teacher knows. Now, the air is crisp and rather than shades of green and blue, there is yellow, orange, gold, and deep burgundy. Fall. Mmmmm...... I love it. There's something for me to love about every season, and for me Fall means Halloween, Thanksgiving, and celebrating all things leafy and harvesty.

The remainder of our summer flew by fast, but was filled with so much fun. Our annual trip to the lake, Sofia's first birthday, the Fourth of July, family pictures, birthday celebrations for both David's and my mothers, more trips to the zoo, ice cream, playing in baby-sized wading pools on the back deck, wearing fabulous sunglasses, the engagement of my sister, and one last trip to visit family before school started again.

Now that we're deep into fall, we've had the fun and excitement of the first day of the school year, the Autumnfest Parade, Halloween, the annual visit from our Arizona relatives, and now we look forward to my grandma's birthday party and Thanksgiving.

Yes, I should be including photos at this point, but I'm just too weary. I'm happy to be back to my blog, but sleep is about to take priority. Priority over the two loads of laundry still left to be washed, priority over the ironing, priority over the dusting, and priority over the dishes waiting in the sink to be washed.

Good night :)