There are many things about this picture that I love…and then some others that I find extremely disturbing.

As I always try to find the silver lining, let’s start with the positive. In fact, my friend Bethany has taught me the rule of PNP (Positive, Negative, Positive). So here we go:

Positive: Bitzy is having a blast. She’s a sucker for the playground. And the swing? Around 8 months old she began her love affair with swinging. Then, as suddenly as it started she banned all swings everywhere. Just the sight of them started her saying, “No, no, no!” Just recently she has shyly ventured back in. We’re starting slowly but surely. Kids are so strange and funny about things…

Negative: Will you look at me? I look like a frumpy Mommy. I may as well have on mom jeans. If I ever needed some motivation for Weight Watchers this is it. Well, and maybe a makeover from What Not to Wear. And I look old? When did I get so old?

Positive:  The owl hat. The cuteness just makes me die and go to heaven. Whoever came up with the concept of the owl hat needs a Nobel Prize. It just slays me. In case you need more evidence, here’s a picture of Brother wearing his too.

My Mama, AKA: Gammy got the sweet owl hats for my babies for Christmas. If you’d like to order one go here. (Linda has no idea that I’m doing this, so, SURPRISE Linda! I love the hats!!!).

I have not forsaken you my dear readers. Promise.

I’ve got a healthy mix of exhaustion, writers block and being a busy bee.

I’ve got 11, yes 11, half written drafts sitting in my blog queue. So, you’ve got lots-o-fun coming your way.

But for now, I have a few tidbits for you…

Some of you will receive one of this priceless works of art in your mailbox!!! Yay!

Get ready for my sweethearts.

In other news, my Bitzy slept for an hour and forty-five minutes today in her crib for her first nap!!!! I couldn’t believe it!!! So, then during the time of her second nap she walked around, whined, played and hung over the side of the crib for a solid hour. It’s like her body doesn’t know how to deal with a really good nap. So after her skipping her second nap she’ll be ready for bed at 5:00pm. It should be interesting around here this afternoon trying to stretch it out to at least 6:00pm.

Also, in case you were wondering, all maternity clothes are terrible and it’s starting to make me really annoyed. Just because I’m preggers doesn’t mean that I’m blind! I can see the terrible clothes on the racks! So the other night I was having a melt down about ugly maternity clothes and Zach says, “You should be a clothes designer!  Maybe that’s your calling!” To this I had visions of being the next Calvin Kline and then I remembered that I can’t sew or draw, so I suppose being a designer is out of the question.

Also? If you’re obsessed with spinal cord injuries and pregnancy, search no further, there’s a show on TLC called “Paralyzed and Pregnant with Twins.” It’s a Christmas miracle.

And finally, if you’re wondering if it’s possible to eat an entire pan of Rice Krispy Treats in one sitting, let me clear it up for you, YES! It’s quite easy actually.

Bitzy working at the young age of 5 months.

Organized.

Or not.

Not at all.

Nope, not one bit.

Organized, that is.

In fact, it’s embarrassing.

My intense disorganization doesn’t just claim the drawers and closets in my home, it infiltrates into other areas of my life. The curious thing is that my house is quite tidy and neat. I hate clutter and love clean open spaces. So, the fact that my drawers look like a tidal wave has hit them is very annoying to me, but yet, I can’t seem to keep them organized. Basically, it drives me bananas.

Another disorganization disaster is my laptop.

Remember how my computer was sick? Well, my hard drive officially bit the dust on Sunday.

It wasn’t pretty. I basically had a melt down, took deep breaths, melted down again, fainted, cried, screamed, had a temper tantrum, took more deep breaths and then had a panic attack.

As you can tell, I wasn’t in a good place.

Then I declared that I would turn it off and let it sleep all night long and then on Monday it would be miraculously healed.

But, as we know, sometimes God chooses to heal and sometimes He doesn’t.

In this case, it was a big fat NO.

My computer needed the ER pronto.

I called an ambulance and they told me to get a grip and to get a life while I was at it.

The nerve.

This has absolutely nothing to do with my disorganization, but isn't she lovely?

So, on Monday morning I took my hurt little computer to the doctor and bid it a “see ya later”, knowing that it very well may be our final goodbye.

So, on Monday night I decided to write a little story about my computer plight and do my usual whining and crying to you, my darling readers.

So I trudge up to my husbands office to write my little story when I realize I have no idea how to log in. As in, not only did I not know my blog user name and password, but I didn’t even know the website to get into my blog.

Seriously.

I can’t make this stuff up.

So alas, God had mercy of my sweet little computer and gave me another shot with a brand spanking new hard drive. So when I pick up my little sidekick from the doctor I ask if my computer has my Internet history, so I can get into my blog, because clearly, my BBF, (the world wide web) doesn’t have instructions on how not to be a computer idiot.

Thankfully, I just typed in “lit” and my WordPress dashboard popped up and here I am, back to writing (let the record show that I still don’t know the username or password- yes, I am indeed a wreck. Thanks for noticing).

I’ve missed you crazy kids.

Please tell me that I’m not the only one who’s life needs a bit of an organization makeover…please? Sister needs a virtual hug people.

PS: Whatcha think about my fancy new blog design? Cute, huh?

I’m a having a bit of writer’s block today. Not sure why.

It’s probably hormones. I like to blame everything on hormones.

Sad?  Hormones.

Happy? Hormones.

Crazy? Definitely hormones.

Anyway, me and my kooky coo hormones don’t know what to write about.

So, let’s have a bit of stream of consciousness, shall we? I think we’ve established that I’m a nutjob, so why not solidify that theory? Here’s what’s happening in my brain as I live and breathe at this moment.

I want a Diet Dr. Pepper. A big beautiful 32 ounces DDP. I woke up thinking about it and now over 13 hours later I’m still thinking about it.  I can’t cave now. This day 5 after all. I’m looking forward to my icing and show tune party that Chelsey is throwing me. If I drink one then I won’t get my vat of icing.

Icing always wins.

Daisy drives me bananas. She’s been trying to trick me into loving her by being so great with my Bitzy, but I’m on to her. She’s so sneaky…and stinky. Phew. When is Zach’s going to give her bath and find her a new place to live?

I wonder if Jon and Kate ever talk anymore?

I don’t wanna Shred tonight. I’ve been dreading it all day. Besides that fact that I may very well be allergic to working out, Jillian drives me completely nuts.

Whenever I blow up and ship Daisy off to a farm somewhere can Jillian go too? They would probably love eachother.

I want a piece of coconut cream pie. Wait, make that chocolate. No, make it banana cream. Never mind, I want banana pudding. Scratch it, can I have a sampler plate of everything?

I’m hungry.

I’m always hungry.

Why do I have a food obsession?

I miss my Bitzy.

Snap out it crazy0. The kid needs sleep. Leave her alone and stop creeping into her room to see if she’s breathing.

Do I need medication? Why I am so crazy?

I really need to organize my closets and drawers. I cannot find anything. Or, I could spend yet another Saturday playing with my sweet Bitzy and kissing on Zach..hmmm….family wins every.single.time.

I’ll reorganize when I’m pregnant again. Nesting is a real thing after all.

I dread football season. Wait. Football season means cheerleading uniforms for Bitzy Seeing this little bundle in a cheerleading uniform is seriously cute.  Fine, football season can last 2 weeks and then I want it to go away.

I wanna bring back all the old sayings from the 90′s. Like “da bomb”,”mac daddy”, “NOT”, “Word to yo mother brother”, “Psych” , “Take a chill pill” etc. I never stopped saying these phrases because I’m so cool, clearly. I wonder how I can start the revolution to bring them back.

Speaking of, I’m hungry.

I really, really, really want some brownie batter.  I’m sick of staring at a bowl of half eaten watermelon. Brownie batter sounds better more appetizing.

Pamela Anderson is ridiculous.

I really need to read Fox News to see what’s happening in the world.

Nah, what’s Sandy up to? People.com here we go.

I like water aerobios. I wonder if the old ladies and me can get fit in the pool.

Zach’s new video game is terrible.

At least he’s home being a big ole dork playing a game instead of at a bar drinking.

I love my Zach.

I’m sleepy. Why don’t I ever sleep anymore?

I’m hungry.

Sleepy.

Hungry.

Crazy.

PS: I would never ship Daisy off to a farm. Zach would never allow it….HA.

Hold the phone: Sabrina the Teenage Witch and Joey from Blossom are teaming up for a little rememberthe90sTVitwassoawesome TV show! While I wasn’t a huge Sabrina fan, my friend Megan was/is a bit obsessed, so I am excited by association. But Joey, ah Joey. What with his leather jacket and manicured hairdo. He was and is dreamy. My only question is, does he have some kind of strong distaste for going by character names?  Does he always have to be called “Joey?” It’s getting kinda weird with all the Joey characters, right?

Somedays I am so busy that I feel like my brain is going to explode. I get so overwhelmed that I doubt everything that I do, feeling as it I’m never going to complete all of my tasks. But then, I pick up my sweet Bitzy Boo and all the troubles of the world fade away. There is no task, none at all, that are more important than soaking in every single second of my baby’s life. No emails, phone calls, news, nothing. They all can wait.

I’m addicted to Weight Watchers Cookie Dough desserts. They are only 3 points apiece and I could eat 20 of them. Please don’t challenge me to an eating contest, I will win. But wouldn’t that be sweet irony to have an eating contest with WW products? Who’s with me?

The news stresses me out. It makes me sad and annoyed at our world today. So, I choose to not listen and focus on the real news: People.com.

Speaking of, Sandy and little Louis are doing great (Read about our friendship here and here). Thank goodness that grody ole Jesse is out of the picture. I do confess that he makes me wanna vomit.

The other day I had a frozen bag of breast milk from the deep freezer in my hands and I dropped it on our glass top coffee table. Accidentally of course, I am a true klutz. The poor table top shattered all over the carpet, but more annoyingly the breast milk bag got a hole in it. That’s right all 11 ounces of my precious liquid gold was pouring all over the glass ridden carpet. Believe it or not, I was much more upset about the wasted milk than the glass. As you know, I take my milk very seriously, it is Natures Nectar after all.

By the way, after I told you all about my idea for curing all the aliments of the world with Natures Necture, no lie I heard on the radio the next day that researchers are now conducting studies that isolate the proteins in breast milk to cure cancer. Seriously? Are they that in tune with this blog that they read about my life changing ideas and immediately begin research?  People, we are curing cancer up in here.

Zach and I got new cell phones and I hate them. They are supposedly “smart” but I think they’re dumb. I want a Jitterbug and pronto.

The crawdad count is up to 32.  Don’t they hear the cries of their little brothers and sisters on the Duct tape? Duh, you stupid crawdads, don’t step on the tape. Their stupidity is just another reason that they must die.

Lastly, I want you all to know how much I enjoy writing these little stories and the community that we’re forming here.  Thank you putting up with my whining about the Sleep Wars and my crazy escapades.  I cherish every single visitor and comment…keep ‘em coming.

All I can think about today is The Wonder Years.

Is that weird?

I got some bummer news today from one of my sweet friends and my heart is broken for them, so what do I do rather than get depressed?  I revert to my childhood and think about things that have absolutely no meaning whatsoever.

Hey, it beats depression.

That’s probably not healthy is it?

Anyway, back to thinking about nothing…remember the love story of Kevin and Winnie?  It was just so…romantic.  In a strange middle school kind of way that is.

But then again, I was in middle school when I watched it (or was it Elementary?).  If I were to watch it now it may not have the same zest as it did then.

I had a major crush and Kevin and honestly, a major girl crush on Winnie.

Who didn’t?

Kevin’s goofy smile and Winnie’s perfect little figure.

“What would you do if I sang out of tune…would you stand up and walk out of me…” All together now…(got in your head! Ha!).

Ah, the nights of eating ice cream while watching hours of TV are WAY over…but boy did I enjoy them while they lasted.

Anyone else lovin’ some old school TV?  Every now and then it just hits me and I’m a kid again, watching TV and lovin’ every minute.

So anyway, to my dear friend, we’ll get through all the yucky stuff. Promise. Hang in there. The pain lessens everyday and God is near and will teach you more than you can imagine through the heartache. He’s tricky like that.  And as we learn from the Wonder Years, “I get by with a little help from my friends, I get high with a little help from my friends.”

Hmmm…well, actually we won’t get high, but we will get by. Love you.

Love to all…

Isn't she lovely?

As we have well determined, I’m not a scientist.  I barely passed all of my science classes (remember the Birds debacle: if not, read it here and here), I’m not really sure what a beaker is, and I surely don’t know anything about the periodic table, but I do know that we inherit traits from our parents, grandparents and so on.

So maybe rather than a scientist I’m a geneticist.

My Grey’s Anatomy degree has failed me yet again.

That said, this whole circle of life is a beautiful thing.  I wonder if my Great, Great Grandmother, Molly, ever thought there would be a younger version of herself in a different time? I hope so.

More importantly, I wonder if she had beautiful kinky curly hair?  Porcelain skin? A keen memory?

If she did, she certainly didn’t pass them on to me.  Instead, I wonder if she passed her most horrendous traits.

For example, did she have the loudest most annoying laugh ever?  Or, enormous size 11 ugly feet? Or, like me, could sweat more than any other human alive- ever?

Probably.

I got some good genes I tell ya.

It’s true that my laugh could be heard from miles away.  I try to hold it in, to not scream laugh, but I just can’t help it.  Life is so funny that I just can’t help it!  And it’s true that my monster feet are not only huge but are in terrible disarray from months of neglect: AKA- having a baby.  Having that little Bitzy has lessened my intense desire for manicured feet.  And lastly, the sweat. The buckets, piles and trash bags full of my sweaty sweat.

It’s disgusting.

I don’t perspire people.

I cannot dab the sweat.

It pours and pours.

It’s ugly, violent, disgusting sweat.

In fact, once in a basketball game my hands were so sweaty that the ball went right through my hands. I’m not sure if you’ve ever tried to catch a basketball with slippery wet hands, but it ain’t pretty.

Or the endless walks that I’ve taken with friends (Ahem, Julie) and I look like I’ve jumped in the swimming pool with my soaking wet sweaty clothes and they look like they’re ready for prom when we’re done.

No fair!

Or my personal favorite, at a spinning class the instructor told the whole class that they should all be drinking as much water as me. When I said, oh really, why? She replied, “You are sweating so much that you bound to be drinking tons of water.  Good for you.”

Yay. Freaking good for me.

I wanted to say, “Honey, this ain’t my first rodeo with sweat and I’m embarrassed enough as it is. Can we please not point it out to the ENTIRE class lady?”

Mortifying.

Even with my most unattractive features, I’m still proud of my heritage.

Although I do wish that in the history books they would list these little details just so their offspring generations down the road would have a heads up.

So, for my great, great granddaughter, I’m sorry for your screeching laugh, large and disgusting feet and sweaty sweatiness.  Be assured that if I could endure it, so can you.  Promise. Love you!  Granny.

Ta-Ta my darlings!  Happy Monday!

Bitzy's best friend, Lily.

My Sweet Angel,

You are 9 months old! Happy 9 month birthday!

I would say something about how you were in my belly for 9 months, but let’s face it, you were there for 10.5 months. Remember? I know that I sure do.

But ya know what? I wouldn’t trade those months with you for anything in the world. Now that you’re here in my arms, it’s even better!

You have become quite the little monkey. Crawling and climbing up everything you can find. You are fearless and bold in your climbing adventures. So much so, that I’m right behind you all the time making sure that you don’t fall. I’m terrified that you’ll get hurt my darling. Your daddy says that it’s all part of growing, but I disagree. I’m going to catch you as long as you’ll let me.

The other night your daddy and me were looking at pictures of when you were a brand new baby. It’s hard to believe that you were so small. While I miss having a tiny little bitty baby on my chest 24 hours a day, I LOVE watching you grow and learn. It seems like every day you change and grow. You just keep getting smarter!

Now, you have 2 words. “Mama” and “Hi.” You’re waving “Hi” and just yesterday you starting clapping!  I think that I was more excited than you!

Climbing is fun!

Your two best friends are the puppies, Lily and Daisy. You play with them for hours on end. You like to climb on them, pull their ears and kick them. You find it very entertaining, and so do I actually.

You get more fun with each passing day. It just keeps getting better. While you grow and change, I find myself beaming with pride more and more. I’m so fulfilled and proud to be your mommy. I will love you forever and ever sweetheart. No matter what.

You’re my little girl, and you always will be.

Always.

Love you forever,

Mama