Life is short...so let's dance already!

Life is too short to take yourself too serious.  You need to have some fun, get crazy once in a while, enjoy being silly and acting 20 years younger than you should.  My siblings bring this side out of me.  There's something about my sisters that transforms me into a crazier person than the already crazy person you all know.  Does that make sense? My brother is just starting to participate in our crazy activities. I think the first time David saw me with my sisters he thought... "What....the....."  We really are a sight to be seen.  Our favorite thing to do when we get together is dance.  And I don't mean regular, booty-shakin', same old boring dance moves.  I mean crazy, spasmodic, looks like we're having a seizure dancing.  It's actually a really good workout, and it's really fun.  This is what is usually looks like

Sometimes it's so crazy even I get scared

Well, actually it's very important to get a good stretch before our rigorous activity.

No, I'm not picking my nose.  Really, I'm not.  So once the stretching commences, the real "dancing" begins

My sister Liv likes to show her little 14 year old butt.  She's really 24, but looks like she's 14.

We also like to make different faces that tend to change with every move we do.
Any chance we get, we love to have a good rockin' dance party.  And everyone that visits usually has to participate

My brother Geir likes to hide in the background when we have dance parties.

 We also really love to pose.

We really really like to pose

Did I mention we like to pose?

My brother Geir has the posing down.  So does my older sis Berg...she likes to pretend she's a tiger (She's a few pics above)


Sometimes the posing goes terribly wrong

But that is all part of it.

Occasionally we'll get out some props

Nothing is really off limits with us.


This aspect of sibling-hood is something I thought about when we found out we were expecting our third child.  I hope my kids always have a "child-like" quality in them. I hope they always enjoy spending time together. I always want to encourage individuality in my children... always want them to explore every part of themselves and really enjoy life. I don't want them to be embarrassed or hide who they are.  I want to show them that life is fun...it's about enjoying every minute of it and not taking yourself too seriously.  It's good to let your hair down, bust out some awkward spazzy moves, and just lose yourself in the moment.  After all, life's too short not to!
So go have some fun...act a little crazy, it's good for you!  Oh, and don't forget to take pictures!

Third pregnancy, bring out the sweats.

I remember when I first was pregnant with Grace, my oldest.  I was going to be the cutest, most fashionable darn pregnant lady....ever.  I wore fun things, cute and flattering.  (as much as you can) I loved showing off my bump.
You see all of the celebrities who make it their job to "win" in the best dressed preggo category.  And they are all so darn cute.  It really makes you want to try, right?
Wrong.  I'm on my third pregnancy people, bring out the sweats.
My body is way different than it was when I was pregnant with my first.  Things shift and droop, and fluctuate and stretch.  I'm tired after chasing after my 4 and 5 year old..the last thing I want to do is spend any time on myself.  I'm tired of putting on my old maternity clothes and realizing that they don't fit right...that throughout the other two pregnancies, my body has changed enough to need new clothes.  Argh.  This, in itself makes me want to put nothing else on but sweats.  Who wants to buy maternity clothes?  Yuck.
This is an example of how I know it's very different going from your first pregnancy to your third (for me anyway) :
I was on the phone the other day with my sister, who just had her first baby in October.  We were talking about maternity clothes and she asked if I needed any.  I said, maybe (and maybe because she is almost 6 feet tall, legs for daze, and never gained any weight other than her belly).  She rattled off a few items that she thought would fit, and then got really excited and said, "oh, and I have this really great leopard print dress."  I about fell over.  Now don't get me wrong....my sister wore the cutest clothes...never ashamed of showing off her figure.  And it totally worked....she was, probably the cutest pregnant woman I've ever seen...right up with all the celebrities.  But in all seriousness...who the hell wants to wear a tight leopard print dress with their third baby?  I think I'd rather wear a moo moo (or however you spell it).  I don't know why, but this time around I could really care less.  Is that bad?  I've even turned into that mom who brings their kid to school in their pjs. (Namely, sweats) I even wore my slippers one day by accident. It should have been embarrassing, but sadly it wasn't.  The thought of putting real clothes on right now makes me want to vomit.
Seriously, you should see me right now.  Actually, no I'm glad you can't see me right now.  You might vomit yourself.
I often wonder, "What happened to me?"  I used to love wearing heels and cute clothes.  Now I've traded them in for ugly black slippers that make me shuffle like an old person when I walk, and oversized baggy sweats that make me look 3 sizes bigger than I am.
I think part of it is because with Grace, it was my first.  I didn't gain THAT much weight.  With Gabe...ha, totally different story.  I grew OUT of my maternity clothes, gained way more weight,  grew a couple of chins and, in the true words of a good friend, "Got as big as a truck!"  Now, if he wasn't one of David and my really good friends I would have punched him in the nuts, but all I could do was agree with him because it was true!  I was as big as a big ass Mack truck.  So, when you get that big, who wants to wear anything besides oversized unflattering sweats?  Not me.
So, if you see me out and about...do not expect me to be donning a leopard print dress, heels...or even jeans for that matter!
It's my third pregnancy people...bring out the sweats.

Crap.

So life here in Minneapolis has been great.  We've been adjusting just fine, and to my surprise, actually liking living here.  Traffic doesn't bother me anymore, (who would've thought?) I can get pretty much anywhere I want in about 20 minutes, (with my handy dandy GPS of course) and we're finding there are so many cool and kid friendly things to do.  Things have been falling into place, and "comfortable" is finally a word to describe our transition.  And then the bombshell people.  Surprise, I somehow seemed to have gotten knocked up again.  Crap.  Now, I know what your thinking....crap?  Am I really referring to a baby? Why yes, yes I am.  Aren't babies the most wonderful blessings in the world?  Yes.  Don't they enrich your lives and make it so much better?  Of course.  Aren't there many families out there that can't have children and would die to be in our situation?  Sadly, yes.  But.......CRAP.  Crap crap crap.  Don't get me wrong, we are excited....and shocked and terrified and unprepared.  You see, I say crap because we weren't planning it or even thinking it would be possible until David was done with school.  I know, I know....these are the best kind of surprises.....but seriously, CRAP.  I'm choosing to exercise my right at the first Amendment, and I choose to say, simply, crap.  You see, David is in Grad school full time.  We pretty much live off of student loans.  Our house is just a smidge bigger than a doll house......and we traded in our van last year because we wanted to "downsize."  Ha.  Perfect.  Our car's too small, our house is too small, and I really wasn't ready to be pregnant.  Big sigh.  Extremely big sigh.  Gigantic scary wonderful exciting sigh.  Crap.
So I've had 14 weeks to get used to this all.  It's been 14 weeks of out of this world hormones, debilitating lethargy, and a stomach that never experienced actually throwing up with the other two pregnancies.  David just told me the other day that (in an extremely whiny and pathetic voice) "I want my wife back!"  It is true, I haven't been myself.  I don't remember being this bitchy with my other pregnancies, being this sensitive to everything people say and do.  I can't survive a day without a nap, and I've turned into a hermit....not wanting to go anywhere, do anything, or God forbid, put on actual real clothes.  My friends, all of them at one point or another have either texted or called...either making sure I'm still alive, or asking if I'm upset at them. That's how much of a hermit I've been.  Crap.
However, this 14 weeks has also been really good for me.  You see, after all the shock and awe, the resentment of the timing, the realization that we are so not prepared, I realized the big wonderful crazy picture.  We're having a baby!  Wheeeeeeeeeeee!  Screw the small house, the small car, the bad timing and financial situation.  Screw the morning sickness, the ever growing a$$, the 24 hour bitch mode, and my body morphing into something unrecognizable. (I get huge ladies and gentlemen)
So yes, I'm still saying "crap," because I can, and it's fun.  But I'm also feeling really really blessed.  We are, after all, having another child, given to us by God because in His mind, this is the perfect timing. Go figure.  We've realized that the things we felt we needed, or the reasons we felt so ill-prepared are simply things that don't really matter in the whole scheme of things.  We have lots of love in our tiny little family. Grace and Gabe are at great ages to be "helpers" with this baby.  Even though David is in school, in a couple years we'll be living very comfortably, and it will all seem to be worth it.
After all, all you really need is love.  Love can conquer anything.  Love makes all things possible.  And we have an overflowing abundance of it.
So we are having another baby!  Yay!  Another beautiful little creature that will bring us so much more love.....not to mention lack of sleep, screaming fits, bouts of craziness, and a world turned upside-down.
Crap.

Old Posts that I thought I lost! These are from last summer!

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Longest......pee......ever

It's that time again...the dreaded potty training. Grace seemed to get the handle on it pretty quick, but Gabe is really not that interested. My mom was visiting a couple of weeks ago, and like she did with Grace, she just started putting Gabe on the little potty even though he didn't want too (which is what I needed with both kids....I do not look forward to potty training!) He has sat on the potty before, and did pee in it once, but he didn't even realize he had peed until he stood up. So before bed one night, my mom got out the potty and plopped him on it. My mom, Grace and I were all sitting around him for support, which he seemed to like. So we waited, and cheered him on, and waited, until at last, the trickle! This is the best sound to hear when you're potty training! He didn't pee long because I think it felt funny to him...he giggled and giggled when it came out! We cheered and cheered and did the potty dance and he was so proud! End of story? Of course not, we're just getting started! After the first initial trickle, he had a longer stream, giggled again, and then stopped peeing. I thought...hmm, he's doing great! My mom asked him then, "are you done?" and Gabe said "Mope (this is how he says no...(mo) more pee!" So we were thinking, yeah yeah, I'm sure he's done. But not long after he said that, he indeed peed again! I don't think he would fully let it all out...just a little at a time. So we cheered again, and did the potty dance, and thought, ok, now he's done. Mope. "More pee" he says. Now at this time, it had been about 10 minutes, so how could he possibly have more pee in there? Well folks...this is no joke. He peed and stopped and peed and stopped for.....wait for it..... 45 minutes!!! Not kidding! It was one of the most amazing/hilarious/confusing/proud moments! After the first 10 minutes, we just thought he was kidding when he would say "more pee," but alas, more pee would come out. At about 20 minutes into the pee, my mom and I started giggling uncontrollably every time he would start peeing again because seriously, who pees this long? I kept having these images of Tom Hanks in the movie "A League of their own" when he proceeded to pee for probably a minute and a half straight, and just when you thought he was done, more would come out. In our state o f shock, my mom and I started to say these crazy things like "Is he going to be dehydrated when he's done? Will we have to take him to the doctor? Is his head going to be smaller afterwards?" (which wouldn't be that bad of a thing since both my kids have huge heads. They really do.) Seriously, where is all this pee coming from? At about 30 minutes into the pee I was practically on the floor belly laughing every time he would pee again. I honestly did not know what think! My mouth was pretty much on the floor at this point. My mom took Grace in the kitchen at this point, and every time he would go again, I would yell to her, "Mom, he's peeing again...what the heck?" And then we would proceed to giggle again like little kids. All this time Gabe was beaming. Finally, we asked him one last time if he was done, in which he then said, "yep" and got off the potty and walked in the other room. We were all exhausted. My mom turns to look at me and said "I have never seen anything like it!" And she raised 4 kids! Oh, and mom, I'm expecting you to verify this story so people know I'm not lying!! So I did what every mother would do in this situation. I measured the amount of pee in the potty. I know, I know, gross right? But I didn't care, I had to know! So in 45 minutes of peeing, he had peed a little more than 3/4th's of a cup! Now, that might not be a lot for us adults, but for a 2 year old? I mean, are you guys amazed too, or is it just me and my mom??! Please, I'm curious!?
Wow...I'm exhausted just writing this and reliving it. So this might be a little too much for some people to read, but I just had to write about it because it was so hysterical!
With all of that said....he hasn't gotten on the potty since.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

All the single mommies (echo:all the single mommies)

This post is a shout-out to all the single mommies out there...especially a dear friend of mine who is the epitome of strength, courage, and is brave beyond belief. Let's start out with a song, shall we?

"All the single mommies (echo: all the single mommies) All the single mommies (echo: all the single mommies) so put your hands up....oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh oh oh, whoa oh oh, oh oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh oh oh. That's all you get...I'm too tired to change all the words.

So I've been married for 6 1/2 years to the love of my life. I'm fortunate enough to have found someone who gets me and accepts all the crazy that comes with me (and friends, there's a lot of crazy here) Not only is he a great husband, but he's an out of this world dad. He's been 100% hands on since the beginning. With our first, miss Grace, I labored for 23 hours before I needed a c-section. Many of you know that with a c-section comes days of immobility, especially the first few days. David stayed with me with me in the hospital all 4 days and nights I was there. He was the first to get up when she cried and would change her diaper to let me rest. He would hand her to me when she was hungry because he knew that I couldn't get up, and the days after we got home, he took care of her 100% when I suffered from a spinal headache and couldn't even sit up. He was Mr. Mom when I couldn't be. When I had moments of panic, suffering from post partum depression, he would hold her, and me, and tell us both that everything would be ok. When I needed to go back to the doctor because my c-section incision got infected, he took care of both of us and gave me this look that told me he would do anything he could to be there for us. There were moments that I didn't even want to get up and get Grace when she cried because the connection I felt wasn't the connection I thought I should feel. David would get her, rock her and then hold us both. Since Grace was mostly bottle fed, he would get up many nights and feed her, and this not only lasted the first few weeks, but months after. He was the ultimate hands-on dad, and I realize now how lucky I am.

When I had Gabriel, a planned c-section (wooo hoooo!) he took off a month of work so he could be home with me and take care of the things I couldn't do physically. I have had an enormous amount of help raising our children. He takes them to the park so I can go workout, he lets me go on girls weekends when I need a big break, and he wrestles with them on the floor when they need some physical dad time. He helps tuck them in at night making sure they say their prayers, and if he hasn't seen them all day, he won't let me tuck them in at all because he wants and needs that time alone with them. I have been blessed in so many ways.

So now that he's gone for 2 months, I realize all the things he actually does, and I'm blown away at how much he helps! It's just me, myself and I with these kids right now. I have to do everything for them 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I don't get a break. I have to tuck them in everynight and wrestle with them (poor kids, it's totally not the same as when dad does) I have to be mom and dad and to be honest, it's hard as hell. It's tough and lonely, overwhelming and exhausting. If I have to take one to the doctor, the other one comes with. When I go to the store, they both come with (which isn't a stress free event here people!) Some days I don't know how I survived the day, and most days I don't know if I'm doing things "right" or raising them "right" Some days are fantastic and pure joy. Some days I feel defeated and not good enough.

So I guess my point of this whole blog is to say how much I respect all the single mommies out there. I bow down to you, I really do. I've only gotten a taste, and it's enough to know that it's one of the hardest things I've ever done. I commend you all and think the world of you...and I honestly don't know how you do it everyday without being committed. I'm crazy enough, and I have a significant other that helps out, well, significantly! Yikes! Is there any hope for me?

So to you single mommies, I respect the heck out of you. You should pat yourselves on the back and do a little celebratory jig because what you are doing makes you all super tough bi-otches (and I mean that in the best way!) So, to my friend Alicia, way to go woman! What you do everyday is so amazing and I think the world of you, I really do! So pat yourself on the back and go do a celebratory jig...and tape it so I can see!



So David, I love you and am so proud of you. This experience has taught me that I'm tough and brave, strong and courageous...and I know that I can survive being a single parent (without needing to be commited...yet anyway)......but come home already!!!! I need a break!!! :-)

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Cookies make me anal

If I had to pick the one thing that I'm most anal about it's definitely my chocolate chip cookies. I can't help it, it's one of the thing's that I'm really good at. They're probably the best cookies I've ever tasted (sorry, but they are) and therefore every time I make them, they have to live up to standard that I've upheld for them. This may sound crazy, but after all...who's the crazy lady here? Oh, that would be me. I won't apologize for this either, although this morning I did realize just how anal I was about this topic which made me question how healthy this really is for me.
So I'm making cookies for some of my friends. I cream the butter and sugar to the right consistency, crack the eggs in a separate bowl because let's face it, who wants to have eggshells in their cookies? Then I carefully add the rest of the ingredients and I'm ready to go. I have my two best cookie sheets, my favorite spatula, the table lined with waxed paper where they can cool, and of course, my ice cream scoop which is how I get them to look perfectly round (that's one of my secrets). I can't stand to have an oblong cookie, and I think the roundness adds to how good they taste because when it comes down to it, isn't the presentation a big part of it? I think so. When the cookies look good, they taste better...just my opinion. Sometimes I don't even want to eat them, just look at them. I could look at those suckers for hours. The first thing I always do is make a "test" cookie. This way if something isn't right and I need to change the dough in anyway, I've only ruined one cookie. I've learned this to be a very important step in creating the best cookies.
So I'm making cookies this morning and everything's going great. I have my favorite Glee soundtrack cranked up and my kids are happily playing with their new Thomas Train table. All of a sudden, I hear the dreaded question from Grace, "Mommy, can I help?" Gulp. I instantly have a lump in my throat. So, being the great mommy that I am (right??) I picked up the scoop and cautiously handed it over to her. She picked it up with the biggest grin on her face (which helped a little), scooped up a huge amount of dough (another gulp) and proceeded to throw it on the pan. She was so proud...I was horrified. So I did what any anal-cookie-maker-mother would do. I let her skip out of the room, happy as a clam that she had helped. As soon as she was out of sight, I quickly corrected her hugely misshaped lump of dough. Sigh. Everything was as it should be again. After that everything went smoothly and I'm happy to report that as of now, they are cooling off beautifully and ready to be snatched up.
I guess I've realized that I may be a "little" too anal about my cookies, and in the future I'm going to try and be more willing to let my kids help (because seriously, what mom doesn't let her kid help?) It does need to be a balance though because it's something that truly makes me happy (sad, right?). So, if you've had my cookies, now you know what really goes into them. A lot of love...a lot of happiness...and a lot of stress!! :-)

Monday, June 14, 2010

My kid said what?

So you never know what's going to come out of your child's mouth, and I always thought I would be the mom who had the best behaved children who always say the right things (I know...what the heck was I thinking?) I was reliving a moment that happened a couple of months ago and had to share it.
Grace was in the bathtub with her brother and one of my friends was in there watching them. Everything was going as usual...Grace squirts Gabe in the face with a squirtgun, Gabe then gets mad and pinches her which then makes Grace scream (in a very high annoying girl scream) and squirts him more, which then starts a whole water war in the bathtub that usually ends up needing more than one towel to clean it up. After things started to quiet down a bit Grace then proceeded to say this, "Girls have a giant (she gets confused with that one) and boys have a junk." Anyone laughing yet? Now I did NOT teach her that word, nor do I ever encourage her to say it. It came out of her dad's mouth one time when she accidentally kicked him in the, well, junk. We do teach her the correct names for female and male anatomy, but apparently it's more fun to say other versions. My first reaction when she said that was, "My kid said what???" And then, after I got over the shock and embarrassment of having "that child," I busted out laughing which actually made my whole day better.
Before I had kids I always had an opinion of what kind of what kind of a mother I would be, and therefore what my kids would be like. I wasn't going to be that mom who took their kids to the store with a messy face and clothes. Well, I've done that so I guess I'm now THAT mom. I was never going to raise my voice at my kids because having a teaching degree I always thought there were alternative ways to get their attention. And there are, sometimes. Well, I've definitely raised my voice at my kids so I guess I'm THAT mom also. And I wasn't going t o have kids that said inappropriate things at inappropriate times. Well, it's pretty obvious that I'm THAT mom as well. So I've learned a few things (a few hundred thousand things). Being a mom isn't clean, nor is it pretty all the time. It's unpredictable most days, and embarrasing sometimes, and you just have to deal with is as it comes and figure out some sort of life lesson that goes with it. Ideals change, expectations fail, and if you're a mom, you're definitely going to have those moments when you think to yourself, "My kid said what?"

Sunday, June 13, 2010

Two months of single-mommyhood

So as many of you know, My hubby David is in Germany for two months. He's in the Minnesota Air National Guard as a flight nurse and got deployed over there. He flies in these huge planes and they go and get patients that need to be transferred to different hospitals. He assured me that they wouldn't be flying into the desert that much....maybe once or twice. Yeah. Try twice a week. So I try not to think about it that much but it's hard because I'm a single mom who stays home with my kids which means I virtually never get a break. I have to deal with all kinds of stuff that would be so much easier to deal with if he was home. Last year he was gone also for a couple months for some training. That was when Grace decided to throw up all over my face in the middle of the night. Yep, you heard me....in my eyes and everything. That's the kind of thing I don't want to have to deal with by myself. If David was there, he could have gotten me something to wipe up with, but instead I had to walk to the bathroom with my eyes closed (because there was puke all over) with my hands out trying to feel where I was. Awesome. This time there hasn't been anything to that degree; just the little things like getting locked out of my house with my friends and their kids all outside (with no cell phones) and having to use a power screwdriver (which I've never used before) take off my bedroom window and then proceed to try and put it back on. Just little things like that. Oh, and the other day when both my kids decided to have meltdowns at the same exact time in the grocery store. That was fun. It's situations like those that would be much easier to deal with if David was home. But, he's not...and I'm sick of dwelling on the negative's of the situation. So I decided to write down all of the positive's to this situation...because there are a few.
#1. I get to park in the middle of the garage. I didn't realized how crammed I felt when both of our vehicles were in there. It's very freeing.
#2. Along with #1, I also get to sleep in the middle of the bed which I realize I love. I crawl in and sprawl out as wide as I can get. I usually end up diagonally in the bed. Sometimes I'm completely upside down.
#3. There's nobody to make fun of me in the morning after a night of me sleep-talking. He never let's me forget the time I saw bigfoot, or when I started"making cookies" at the end of the bed. He never let's anyone else forget about them too.
#4. My bed is virtually fart-free. Yes, I just said the "F" word in my blog. I'm sorry, but men are smelly, and even though I try to set a "no farting in bed" rule, it seems to never hold up. It's nice to go to bed in peace, and with good smells in my nose.

So while there are lot's of negative thing's that I can dwell on about this situation, I'm going to keep thinking of the positives and pray he comes home in one piece. I can survive getting puked on, or being Macgyver (sp?) for a day. I will survive the baby meltdowns my kids have and anything else that comes my way.....at least I think.
I'm so proud of you babe and I love you!

And so it begins...

So I've followed a few people's blogs and came to the realization that I should write one too. I kept having all of these thoughts in my head and I figure, why shouldn't I just write them down for everyone to see? Well ok then...here goes.
There's a few things you should all know about me before I start writing intimate details of my life.
#1. I'm pretty much a crazy lady, and I'm not afraid to admit it. I have mommy meltdowns, regular people meltdowns, I'm OCD with certain things, I'm very dysfunctional, I see a therapist, and at times I feel like I have no grip on life at all. But I've realized when you own it, it doesn't seem to be as bad. I mean, who's completely sane anyway? What's the fun in that?
#2. I have two of the best kids in the whole world. Grace is almost 4 and Gabriel is 2 1/2....they're probably 50% of my daily crazy meltdowns. I mean, love the kids to death and would do anything for them, but come on, some days I just want to sell them on E-bay.
#3. I've been married to my college sweetheart for 6 1/2 years. He's one of the best men I've ever known, and also one of the best fathers I've ever seen. He's the other 50% of my daily crazy meltdowns.
#4. I stay at home with my kids and wouldn't have it any other way. I do have days I wish I had a job and curse at my husband for "getting" to go to work, but most days I absolutely love it....when I'm not having one of my mommy meltdowns that is.
#5. I'm a giver by nature. I would much rather give than receive and I think that is one of my best qualities.
#6, I'm very sensitive. Like, really sensitive. Thing's affect me that probably shouldn't, and I cry during most movies whether it's sad or not.
#7. I'm a hopeless romantic, and wouldn't want to be any other way. I've often been ridiculed for having such a love for the white knight sweeping the lady off her feet, but it's a part of who I am. I believe that you can have the fairytale, not just dream about it. I mean, when it comes down to it, all you need is love...right? Well, and a few other things...
#8. One of my best stress relievers and loves is playing the guitar. It's my outlet. My dad used to sing to us when we were little, and it's one of my fondest childhood memories. I also write songs about things like how I hate to shave my legs.
#9. I love the Lord and I try to live for Him. It's been such a lifelong journey for me, and I'm still trying to find my own way, but I know that my life is so much better with Him.
#10. I love with all my heart, I give with everything I have, and if I'm a friend of yours, I will put 100% into it. Wow, that was kind of tooting my own horn now wasn't it?
So now you know the general things about me, and I already can't wait to write my next blog. So follow me if you dare. I'm not perfect (thank goodness) and I can't guarantee correct spelling or punctuation (and I have a teaching degree...sad!) But what I can guarantee is that I'll be completely honest and will hopefully make you laugh once in a while. I mean, life is pretty darn funny when you sit back and think about it. Right? God bless!

A big move!

Well hello world!  (Or at least the 3 followers that I have!)  It's been a while since I've written, and I'm finally at a point where I think I can entertain you all again! (or, again, at least the 3 followers I have)
A lot has happened in the months of my absence.  And it would probably take me lots and lots of blogs to catch up and fill you all in.  Guess I'll just start with the biggest.

So we moved from Rochester to the Twin Cities in April.  We lived in Rochester for 5 years...it's where both our kids were born...two of my best friends lived there...and I had established a wonderful support group with my MOPS mommies at our church.  I didn't want to move.  I really loved it there, and it finally felt like "home."  And then there's the actual packing part.  If you ask me what's one thing that I absolutely hate doing, I would probably say moving.  The actual process of packing everything up, putting all of your possessions in one huge truck, and then unpacking things again is something that I seriously despise.  Really?  Yes really. There are so many more unpleasant things I would rather do than moving.  For example, I would rather go to the grocery store with my two kids while they're both throwing tantrums and people are looking at me like I'm a horrible parent.  I would rather sprain my ankle (been there, done it, would choose that over moving).  I would rather have hundreds of paper cuts all over my body.  I would rather run out of gas in the middle of interstate 494 during rush hour.  I would rather be stuck in rush hour and go into labor.  You get the point, right?
So we moved because David got into a Nurse Anesthetist Grad program up here, and it's something he's wanted to do ever since nursing school.  It was pretty much now or never.  So I took one for the team and packed the boxes, then moved the boxes, then unpacked the boxes, then vowed to never do it again.
There's so many reasons why I didn't want to ever move to Minneapolis.  I'm a small town girl at heart.  Rochester seemed big to me at first, so moving here was kind of a big deal.
So obviously there's been a lot that I've had to learn and deal with.  For example, I've learned how to be a "city driver."  I can cut someone off like a pro, and even do it where I don't get honked at!  I just flash my little smile and act like I have no idea what I'm doing.  Oh, but I do.  See, you have to learn how to be an aggressive driver here otherwise you would get eaten up...and you would always miss your exit, not to mention get lots of the middle fingers flashed at you for driving like a granny and hanging out in the fast lane when you're definitely not going fast.  I'm actually quite comfortable being an aggressive driver.  Makes me feel empowered!  Another thing I've learned is that not everyone gets robbed every night.  See, growing up in a small town, the perception I had of a big city was that everyone got robbed.  (I know...you are shaking your heads)  But seriously.  Then one night my husband left his very expensive ipod on the deck overnight, and low and behold, it was still there the next day!  Shocking!  The city was starting to grow on me.  Now, obviously he didn't mean to leave the ipod out there, and will always try and be careful about not leaving things outside, but it was nice knowing that for at least one night, our yard was creeper free.  Another thing I've learned is that you can get pretty much anywhere in the city in about 20 minutes.  Except, of, course, Ikea and the Mall of America because they're practically in my backyard (three miles away).  It's proven to be a bit dangerous, but we're working on it.  No, I don't have to go there 3 times a day..once is probably enough.
One of the most important things I've learned living here is that I can practically wear anything I want, in any combination, and I would blend right in.  Plaid knee high tights with a hot pink striped shirt and tie-dyed sneakers?  Perfectly normal.  Different colored socks with two different shoes and a dress that looked like a tiger had gotten to it?  Seen it lots, might even try it.

So we're here for at least two years.  And then who knows where.  So I'm going to make the most of our time here, and who knows, we might end up here permanently.  I sure miss everybody from Rochester, but am coming to terms with our new life.
So here's to new adventures, new dreams, and wearing whatever the heck I want without getting looked at like I'm a freak!