My big life moment

(I collect fabulous friends.)

When I was four I couldn't wait to turn five. Twelve, sixteen. Eighteen. Twenty. I didn't actually want to turn 25, but I did it anyway. (Such a good sport I am.) Unlike most people, I didn't dread 30. I never knew what the hype was. If you look at people in their 30's, they are all finally coming into their own. Comfy in their skin. Confident in their bodies, personalities, intelligence, beliefs. And I wasn't afraid of that. I woke up the other morning feeling like a kid again. It was my birthday! And I was so happy about it. I finally reached the milestone that I actually waited for. And it didn't disappoint. That's it, people! I actually am 30. For realsies. (Yeah, I might have been telling people I was when I actually wasn't.) What? It's not against the law. My twenties were good. They served a purpose. But I was over them. My life, I felt, was better suited for the 30 something crowd. What with my million and a half kids I have. But, I'm here. I made it. Bring on the fine lines and other beautiful signs of age. I'll just be sitting here waiting for the big 40. They know where to find me. I'm not scared.

Well, maybe a little.

*Just in case you were wondering: I actually spelled "intelligence" wrong- spell check caught it. heh.*

BFL's and no BFL's

It's true. It was Pegs birthday yesterday. Leanne and I both posted BFL's about her in honor of her birthday. (Big Fat Lies) That's how we roll. We had planned on having a contest to see who could come up with the better BFL, but neither of us were successful. A truly successful BFL is one that you can get people to fall for. And that clearly didn't happen. Shoot.

For realsies, Penny is one of my favorite people in the whole wide world. And that is no BFL. She's hilarious, smart, gorgeous, non-judgemental, accepting, loyal, kind-hearted, etc. To a fault. And I'm thankful that after years of not seeing each other, we can easily pick up where we started off. And I'm also thankful that we can do dumb stuff like tell BFL's about each other and we never offend each other. (This includes Lenny, of course.) The three of us are hilarious and we know it. Nobody else might not know that. Just as long as we can crack each other and ourselves up, we are good.

Hope it was happy, Peg. You rock.

A happy day in more than one way!

Dear Mama Peggles,

Happy happy birthday to you, my dear friend.

I just wanted to tell you how proud of you I am. I know this past year has been very difficult, what with all the hard work you have put into getting over your debilitating fear of flying. Even though the hypnosis and acupuncture didn't do the job, it probably did help you when you took those classes. I'm so thrilled that you were finally able to take the baby steps and complete your first flight from M**q**** airport to H****t** airport. That's an accomplishment you should be shouting from the rooftop! Pretty soon you'll be a pilot!! Wear those wings with pride, woman!

Happy birthday!

Love always,
Mindizzle

Past the rapids

I made two different kinds of cookies this week. You know what that means? My life has found it's feet again. That's one of the first things to get cut from the time budget in the case of overloads. And thanks to a thoughtful new friend, (don't worry, I won't toot your horn, Rebecca) I even had the day off to hit a few garage sales. Oooh, how I missed garage saling days. They are back!! And so am I!!!

My garage sale find of the day. I fell in love at first sight. Michelle so brilliantly suggested to use it as a coffee table. Love that. I prefer an eclectic look over a matchy-matchy one any day. Mine is still m-m. Some day.

Still not saying I'm St. Urho.

That guy on the left, named Urho, will produce grapes. His friend on the right, raspberries. Her name is Saija, named after a world renowned Finnish horse trainer. I'm keepin' it real- long live the Finnish heritage!! And the descendants of the great man himself, St. Urho. (Oh, weird. Tara! Twice in a week? Wow. Didn't expect that. You look really grape today! Doesn't she, people?)

I'm not claiming to be St. Urho.

But I have been known to buy 5+ lbs of grapes at a time. Just sayin'. Oh, hi, my awesome sister Tara! Didn't realize you would be reading this.

Big deal if I cleaned the counter and refused to wait ten seconds for it to dry. Whatev. Least I clean it.

I apologize for the horrid pics I posted earlier, if you saw them. These look slightly better. The color of my living room isn't exactly like this. Guess you'll have to come over and see it for yourself.

What to do about this? I need a window treatment for this baby because the sun beats so hard in it every a.m. And I need the curtains to pull all the way across, so I can't add a support to the rod. Plus, Zane doesn't want me to hide the arch of the window.

Psht. You are just jealous about my mad camera skills. I would be, too, if I were you. I'm pretty much an award winning photographer.

Danka.

I like to move it, move it...

My little wiggly, giggly

Kaija Paija

But, seriously. Thank you. Why as mommies do we feel we need permission for something as natural as our emotions? I mean, seriously. We can't help our emotions. I've been OvErWhElMeD (to say the least) this entire new year. And I really was banking on the fact that this x-ray we had taken was going to be the climax to it all. This new year's resolution was going to be a different kind... and it was going to be that I could finally! relax and let the stress all slide off my shoulders. And when that didn't happen, I felt like someone slapped me across the face. And even though I said I was going to have a temper tantrum, I didn't let myself. Until I felt the understanding and compassion in your comments in my last post. And the permission to be mad! It was just what the Dr. ordered. Since I've been so honest, I might as well continue: I bawled myself to sleep last night. It's been a while since I cried that well. And I woke up with puffy eyes but with a lot less weight on my shoulders. So thank you, for your permission and understanding. Sometimes it is worth it to show your raw emotions to the world, after all.