Boring Can Be Fun

Obviously this blogging business isn't my ticket to fortune or fame. Too bad about the first, but okay about the latter, I suppose. Nevertheless, this corner of the interwebs is still up and I just felt like saying hello to the singular person who might bother to read this post. Hey, you! As I write this, we are getting back to normal after Hurricane Irma. When I say "we," I mean my pocket of Florida. The damage caused in other areas of the state as well as the Caribbean islands is, simply, heartbreaking, not to mention what the areas of Texas affected by Hurricane Harvey are still dealing with weeks on. But here, in the panhandle of Florida, we fared better than expected. What we expected was a repeat of 2016's Hurricane Hermine, after which some of us were without power for a week, and the roads were blocked with trees, and many power lines were down. As Irma approached and the information about it constantly updated, we decided to stay put. We had prepare

I was going through my old, unpublished blog posts and found this gem that I drafted back around June of last year. I enjoyed reading it, and thought, aw, heck, I'm-a publish it now! Minor differences now, but the essentials are the same. Please enjoy this peek into a normal day in the life of your FAVORITE blogger: ME. Let's have a little slice of life look at what someone who, let's just say, occasionally blogs for the reading pleasure of 3-5 people, has two kids (ages: 2 years, and 3 months, respectively), has a snobby cat, and occasionally remembers to put on deodorant, goes through in a day: Kisses given on the regs. 5:55am Alarm goes off. Hit snooze. Repeat every 5 minutes until 6:20 at the latest. 6:20am First thoughts: COFFEE COFFEE COFFEE COFFEE. Action: start coffee maker. 6:20-7:20am  Toddler wakes up. Silliness begins immediately. Spend at least 4 minutes discussing playdoh, who she will play with at school, what she does not want for breakf

After my VIRAL* post about wanting to stop being late all. the. durn. time, I thought it would only be right to report how my first week went. A few notes.  1) It's not my fault that my first week was a 4 day work week. And I'm not sad about it, either. 2) Possible exaggerations follow. Monday, January 2.  Night Zero.  Lunch made, with one minor Greek yogurt flying across the floor mishap. My work bag packed. Girls' bags packed. Outfit picked out. Alarm set for 5:45a and into bed just after 10p. So excited about how I'm going to get up and moving and actually be on time that I cannot fall asleep for nearly an hour. Excellent start. Tuesday, January 3.  Day 1. The day starts a tad earlier than I would have liked. 3a Toddler lets herself out of her room and tries to crawl in our bed. Take her back to bed. 4a Toddler has bad dream. Cries and wakes us up, then settles herself back down.  5a Toddler has another bad dream. Cries lots. I get up

January can be a heck of a month, right? Not only are we coming off of Christmas after January 6, which in an of itself can give people the blues, but we're also suddenly shunning bad habits.  I've already told you about how I've decided to be Miss Punctuality (the lamest award in the beauty pageant). But that's not the only thing I'm putting myself through.  For one, I'm doing a Dry January. Except it started on January 2, because we had two bottles of bubbly--one for New Year's Eve and one for New Year's Day. And except for the end of the month when my old man and I celebrate our wedding anniversary. EXCEPT FOR THAT, I'm doing a Dry January. If you don't know, Dry January is not one is which I commit to dehydration or not watering my plants. Dry January is a month where you "dry out"--aka, no booze...except for when you decide it's worth the exception. It's done for any number of reasons. Mine are to cut back on calor

Blogs are the worst, right? ...says the blogger. Well, "blogger." But hear me out. I'm just sitting here minding my own business on the internet by skulking around anonymously. Lurking, I believe, is the historically favored term. (Hey lurkers! I know there's a few of you. Literally a few. Two.)  Anyway, I'm lurking like a champ when, behold, something catches my eye! It's some young, attractive mommy blogger who spends more on clothes in 1 year than I have in the last 5 - 10 years. (WHERE DO THEY GET THE MONEY?) You know her, she's all over the place. Her hair has the prefect beach wave. Her makeup is expertly applied. There are no under-eye sleep-deprivation circles. Her outfit is so casual yet cool. "I love wearing a low heel for a cute stroll with my kids! Just 3 inches of height is all I need today!" She looks good in hats. Her purse is devoid of the coffee splatters decorating mine--the ones that say, "Wow, you were running with

Four score and seven years ago, I ~cleverly~ made a New Year's resolution not to make any more New Year's resolutions. And for four score and seven years, I've kept that resolution.  #selfdiscipline  But there's been something in my life that gnaws at me and, with all apologies to the clever gal (me!) who made that clever resolution all those years ago, I think I'm going to use the New Year as a perfect time to tackle this problem. What, pray tell, might my resolution be? First, let's say what it won't be. It won't be... ...to KonMari my life. I've read the book, and I'm very interested in doing it, but it's not going to be a resolution. I don't want to be held accountable for not getting rid of my Birch Box samples just yet. ...to cut out all sugar. Because, no. ...to be "more present" with my children. Because I'm all up in their faces, baby. Kisses on kisses on kisses. I love you's all the time. Storie