THAT time...

For almost a year, I've been able to avoid "that" time...of the month. But now it's back. And I hate it. And it's not even "that" part...it's the moodiness that I'm talking about. And it's not fair. I honestly firmly without a doubt believe that all women should have a week off each month to deal with it and recuperate. Men don't understand. I don't want to hear how men are the ones that have to "deal" with it because you have to "deal" with us going through it. You have no idea how much energy we exert just to keep ourselves from ripping your limbs off on a daily basis. I know that God gave us "that" time because we are the only ones strong enough to handle it. Men would crumble upon themselves.

WOW. I sound super moody, huh. RAAAAARGGGHHHH!

Poor David...he's so great about the whole thing. Totally patient and sweet and kind and caring. And pretty cool about the fact that I lugged his cell phone at his head when the stupid thing went off at 5 in the morning. And really amazing about the fact that I kicked him in the face when he set his pair of socks down on top of the bed near my feet and woke me up...again. He's so great. I couldn't ask for a more amazing husband.

Which is why I feel bad about the fact that this happens to him every night when he comes home...

And it's not HIM. He just happens to be the only adult I see during the day, so he gets the brunt of my emotional wreckedness.

The mailman also gets a little bit of it.

Sometimes I feel like the only person who understands me is Blue the Cat.

By the Seashore...

(iPhone photos are mine [the crappy, dark ones]...Hipsta prints are Cara's...the rest are Tris')

I'm so mad. I'm mad because I'm not at the beach. If someone told me that I could live on the beach forever, but never have chocolate again...I'd seriously consider it. That's how much I love the beach. I probably would say no, though. That's how much I love chocolate.

But still, I heart the beach. And it's always no fun to leave it. But this past Thursday after work, Cara, Brandi, Tris and I headed south for a long weekend at le beach. So. Much. Fun.

We started off the trip by looking at my fabulous homemade flippy flops.

All day Friday, we baked in the warm, golden rays. Sigh. So relaxing. I think I was using Coppertone from 1893 because #1, it smelled a little weird when I was putting it on and #2, the only places I got burnt were the places I slathered on the most lotion...the tops of my feet and the tops of my shoulders. Weird. Oh well. We walked a mile and a half to the most fabulous little seaside town and ate lunch. This was an adventure because, as you well know, walking in sand or water doubles your exertion level...so, technically we walked 3 miles there and 3 miles back. It was also an adventure because the purple flags were up...which means that marine life was abundant that day. Apparently, the little blue fringy jellyfish and some Portuguese Man of Wars wanted a tan, too, so they were littered across the shoreline. It was like a mine field. But still, the water was as crystal clear as the Caribbean and the sand was soft, sugary and white. Perfection.

We ate lunch at the taco bar. Delish.

And then walked back to the beach.

Every morning we ate breakfast at the best little coffeehouse eva. Is coffeehouse one word or two? Coffee house?

One night, we ate supper in paradise in a little beach town that smelled like rosemary everywhere you went. My crab-stuffed shkrimp wrapped in pancetta (pahn-CHATE-uh as Giada would say) was amazing.

There were two weddings going on. We wanted to crash, but it was starting to sprinkle a little bit, so we forgoed. Forwent? Decided to forgo the crashing.

Another night, we ate at this bar restaurant that was really red inside. It was like a dark room, but awesomer...and with delicious food. I got the crab cakes. As always.

Naked mermaid.

On Saturday, we went shopping. All day. It's like I told the gals. The beach makes me so happy. And shopping at the beach makes me that much happier.

Actually, no, I spent it on makeup. I don't wear shoes in the summer.

Things I learned this weekend:

The sound of my external hard drives, Bogue and Weejer, whirring to life after a long weekend's sleep does not equal the sound of the waves crashing on the pure white shore while gulls screech overhead.

Cocoa Crispies does not equal a fresh cranberry orange scone and Mango Ceylon tea.

A wet, 54º overcast Tuesday does not equal perfect 84º weather and sunshine. Where did this dumb cold front come from?

Waking up does not equal sleeping late.

Spraying off the patio as you watch the deluge of pollen-infused water flow into the yard does not equal shopping.

But the main thing I learned is that no time ever spent at the beach will ever equal time with my sweet, amazing, perfect husband and my precious, wonderful, perfect daughters. I missed them SOOOO much. I probably called 15 times a day checking on everybody. It was definitely a nice, relaxing, and refreshing weekend, but I was very happy to hug all of them and give them endless kisses. I cannot wait to take the gals to the beach! Technically, they've already been twice...they just couldn't get out. I definitely needed the break and I am so grateful to Mom and David for giving it to me. And I'm so grateful to Tris, Cara and Brandi for such a fun time. You gals are fabulous. And Shane, tell your grandmother "thank you" for letting us use their condo! Super adorable!

Oh, also...everyone...you need to get Cara to do her Jamie Oliver Food Revolution impersonation for you. You will not regret it. You will pee your pants. Make sure she says "square pizza". I'm going to video her one day so those of you who don't have regular visits with Cara can see it. Square pizza...ahhhhhhhhhhhh...haha. Awesome.

Beach Bound!

OOOOh my goodness, it's been eons since I've written a real post. I don't know why. All I do is lay around all day and do nothing. Ha.

So, I figured I'd catch you up on what's been going on lately.

Out of nowhere, and I mean nowhere, the girls started sleeping 8-9 hours at night. They did this for about two weeks. Then, out of NOwhere nowhere, they started sleeping 10 hours. Then, out of NOWHERE, they started sleeping 10 hours and 45 minutes. And that's about where we're at now. We had been holding them off until about 8-8:30 at night, but they were having none of that. So, we started feeding them around 7-7:30 and they are OUT. And they sleep until 5-5:45 a.m. (Light from heaven shining down, angels singing...HALLELUJAH!) And by "out", I mean, they drink their entire bottles and we set them in their crib and they either are #1, already asleep or #2, awake and go to sleep on their own within 10-15 minutes. I couldn't ask for more perfect little sweeties. They are wonderful.

So, David and I feed them about 7 p.m. and we have the rest of the night to ourselves. It is fabulous. We'll eat supper together. We'll watch a House episode together. We'll play a game together. We'll take our showers. Ha, you thought I was gonna say "together" didn't you? You creepy perv. But, you'd be correct. Mreoow. Anyways. We usually go to bed at 9:30 p.m....because we're 85 years old. Actually, it's because we're exhausted. But I'm not complaining. We get up at 5:30-5:45 and feed those little monsters. David goes in to work. I do the laundry, clean house, pay bills, and start work at 7:30 a.m. The girls are usually wide awake and are SUPER VOCAL during this time. You saw the videos. It makes me laugh so hard. When they get grouchy vocal, I relocate them to the living room floor under their play mats or just on a palette and they watch TV. I can only listen to Baby Einstein/Mozart for so long, so eventually, they watch HGTV or Food Network. They love it. Which makes me so proud. My little home decorating foodies. They've recently developed this condition in which they fall asleep whilst playing or watching TV. All on their own. I'm in the zone, designing whatever, and I realize...it's quiet. A little TOO quiet. And I'll get up and peek around the corner and sho nuff, them babies be passed out. Three to four hours later, I feed them again. That's really the toughest part of my day. Every now and then, one will still be asleep or perfectly content playing and I'll grab the fussy one and feed them separately. But usually, they get hungry at the same time. It's like a timer goes off and only they can hear it. And by golly, if I don't fix their meal RIGHT THEN...it's...well, it's not good. The twins grow razor sharp fangs and their eyes glow red and burn lasers into my soul and they jump on my neck and bite me. It's pretty scary. So, we have these chairs we got as a gift and I prop both of them up and I've got two hands, two babies, and two bottles...and we all just sit there. They eat. I wait. Sometimes it gets pretty hectic...pretty messy, but so far, we've all survived.

They really are the sweetest little babies. They play so well and sleep so well. I get my work done. I keep the house clean. I get to spend a few hours at night alone with Davey. I couldn't be happier.

Easter Sunday was the first time we've taken them to church. Anybody with kids knows how hard it is to take a kid, much less a baby, to church. It takes us about 2.5 hours to prepare to go to the pediatrician. I'm leery about nurseries. Ahh..I promise I'm not one of "those" people. I can't keep my kid away from germs forever. I know that. But given the fact that I've been told by doctors, nurses, friends, strangers, dogs that a church nursery is the most germ-infested place a baby can go, I'm kind of hesitant about it. I know they'll get sick at some point...I realize that. I'm not oblivious to it. However, at this point in our lives, it would be insane to have a sick baby...much less two at the same time. I mean, I would TOTALLY "deal with it" if one of them was sick...of course...but I'm saying, if I can avoid it, at least for now, I'm going to. As long as I can. And also, because it takes FOREVER to get them ready to go anywhere. You have to literally pack an entire store if you take your kids anywhere. Anyways. They were SO great in church. I was really nervous because my tiny little girls...well, they don't make tiny little girl noises. And I just KNEW that one of them was going to let something loose right in the middle of the pastor's sermon. You can't really call them burps and toots. They're the kind of noises that would put a grown man to shame. But thankfully, Harper timed hers perfectly right as we were singing a song, so it worked out.

We do Tummy Time (I hate saying that, but what else are you gonna call it...Belly Hour. Ab Activities. Gut Meditation) with the girls every day. And at 14 weeks, when we were at my parent's house, little Harper Mo rolled over! It surprised her as much as it did us. She's a rolling over fool now. Then, this past Monday, little Pipsqueak rolled over! Remember the whole mirror image twin theory...well, Harps rolls to her left and Pipes rolls to her right. I'm so proud of them. I guess they hated Tummy Ti-gag so much, they decided they'd better figure out a way to get out of it and fast.

We met up with Zack and Malinda on Sunday for the girls' first picnic. They seemed to enjoy it...considering they slept almost the whole time. And yes, those hats are toddler sun hats. My gals got some big ole heads. It's where they store their super smartness and ultra cuteness.

Judging by what my back tells me, I'm guessing the girls weigh about 37 pounds each now. We'll find out on Tuesday at their 4 month check-up.

Mom came up yesterday to stay with us the rest of the week and help me get the girls to their appointment on Tuesday. And we took the girls out in the stroller for a walk on the new trails. And they LOVED. IT. They usually hate it, so I don't know what made them change their minds. We walked for an hour. Now, I can normally walk for days. I love to go for walks. But Mom walks differently than me. And when I say "walk", I mean Mom walks at a normal pace for cardio and I scrounge up whatever energy and speed my legs can muster and try my best to keep up. Mom's inseam is 101". My inseam is 18.5". So, I burned like 1,029 calories trying to stay with her...while pushing two half ton babies. And she's like a drill sergeant..."Ruth! Faster! Come on, pokie! I've got snails sticking to me...even they can keep up with me." One of these days, I'm going to trip her. And look down at her and laugh. Mwaah ha haaa. When I got out of bed this morning, my legs gave way and I pooled into a puddle of jelly on the floor. That's when you know you got some good exercise.

So, gift of gifts...sweet Mom came up this week, like I said...just so I could leave tonight to go to the beach for the weekend with my gal pals. Oh sweet beach. Three whole mornings of sleeping until whenever I want. That's pretty much all I'm gonna do...sleep. I'll definitely miss the girls and David, but oh my gosh, I have been looking forward to this for four months. You don't really realize how much you need a break mentally. This will be the first time I've been away from them for more than 4 hours and you know what, I'm okay with it. :) It's going to be great. So, Mumsy and Davs and the twins. I know they'll do fabulous!

Alrighty, I gotta go pack...cuz I'z goin to tha beach!

Monster Babies 2

Monster Babies

Out of nowhere, they started doing this...

Question

How do you measure a baby's age?

With numbers, dummy.

Gyah, that's not what I mean. I mean, do you use weeks or months? And how long do you count by weeks or months before you start saying, "Oh, she's two years old." (I know a gal that has a 3- year old and she still measures by months...her "39-month old daughter loves daycare.") Anyways. Because, when you're pregnant, you count by weeks or you give a general estimate in months to random strangers. And with newborns, I guess most people count with weeks. But when do you stop doing that? And also...is it a new month when they reach another 4 weeks or do you measure a new month when it gets to that month's day on which the baby was born? Does that make any sense?

For example, this coming Wednesday, the girls will be 16 weeks. Does that mean on Wednesday, they will be 4 months old or do I wait until April 30 (they were born on December 30) to count them as 4 months old?

There's no reason I'm asking this information, just curious. Because it's annoying me and I want to know. Thanks, buddies!

Have a marvelous weekend! Marvelous. " 'Cause I'm the magnificent, marvelous, mad Madam Mim!" What's that from? NO GOOGLING!

Co-Workers = Friends

Every job I've ever had, I've always taken away with me amazing friendships that I know I'll have forever. I honestly think that God led me to a few of those jobs just to meet those people. Just like I think God led me to camp that year when I was 15 so I would meet that guy and develop the hugest crush, like, EVA, OMG. But in reality, God wanted me to meet and develop a friendship with his sister, who I adore and love and I know I'll always have that relationship with her and be insanely jealous of her fabulous red hair. So, see...funny how God works things out.

My current job situation...I'm a stay-at-home graphic designer and I have several clients, but I have one for whom I do contract labor and about 99% of my work is for them. And I absolutely love it. And them. You know I don't disclose a ton of personal information...like, I'll give you my SSN and credit card info, but my birthday, that's where I draw the line. So, I won't give you the name of the company, but I will tell you that it's a wonderful and caring place that hires ex-convicts...helping them find themselves, rehabilitate and assist them in stepping back out to make their place in today's society. They're a pretty rough, ragtag group of folks...I won't name any names...most of them having been arrested for soliciting (Katie), underage Bingo-ing (John Paul), midnight streaking through the neighborhood (Mrs. Patti), questionable sidewalk chalk artwork (Crystal), and illegal transport of Canadian maple syrup (Dalton). But they have the biggest hearts and they're doing great in this new program. I'm really proud of them. I'd like to introduce you to some of them.

This here's Dalton. He's from Canada, eh. He moved to America a few years ago because he was caught illegally transporting pure maple syrup across the border. And everybody knows that maple syrup is to Canadians as moonshine is to Americans. While here, he met, fell in love with, and married the boss' daughter, Lindsay Beth, and so he decided to stay. It's a good thing, too, because that commute would have been super lame, eh. Leslie Nielson.

This is Lindsay Beth, eh. (Do you ever try to make him say stuff just because it's funny to hear?) Aboot. Hey, oh, hey thee-er, hey. Maple syrup.

Oh, those two. They're just aboot the cutest couple ever.

This is Katie Christmas. She's the ringleader. You don't mess with her. She bites people. She solicits. She disturbs the peace. God still loves her, but He's got his eye on her. Don't let her sweet smile and designer sunglasses fool you. They don't call her Krazy Katie for nothing.

Katie is on the local roller derby team, The Deathers. You'd probably think she picked up this injury during a really rough game, but nope...it was after the game. The opposing team's captain made a snide remark about The Deathers' uniforms and Katie was having none of that...fighting ensued. Wheels, elbow pads, spit flying everywhere. The Deathers were victorious for a second time that night.

This is Stephanie. Don't be scared, this isn't her usual smile. You might think it looks like she maybe had dental work and the left side of her face was numb, but you'd be wrong. Usually both sides of her mouth are droopy, and normally one eye is kind of slanty and she drools a lot, but she seems to have been doing okay in this picture. Poor kid.
Ha...Steph's face. Bless her.

This is Sabrina. I think she got her hair cut. It's super adorable, btw. She was arrested for literally stealing candy from babies in the local park. Babies are pretty gullible and she used that to her advantage. So many babies out there without candy...all because of her.

This is Crystal. She's very artistic and creative...hence the sidewalk chalk incident.

She's married to John Paul. That's not John Paul in the picture. That's some other guy named Juan Paulo. Are you eating Cheez-Its? Gosh, I haven't had Cheez-Its since I was like 5...in Sunday School. I miss those things. They're known as the Bonnie and Clyde of the 21st Century. Before rehab, they robbed countless stage coaches...leaving thousands of 1800's merchants penniless in their wake.

The company has their own fighter plane. They like to fly over daycares and elementary schools and scare kids. It's pretty hilarious. Kids...screaming and crying in terror...ah, good times.

I THINK this is John. I've actually never met him in person. Hey, John! How is your wife? (They're having a baby!) I hope she's feeling better. John knows Greek. Probably because he's a top secret spy or something. I mean...probably because he just casually wanted to learn it one day...not because he's a spy...ah, I've said too much!

This here's all the gals. Well, not all of them. A few ladies weren't in the picture...Mrs. Patti, Annette, Beth, Tracye, BJ, Jane, the other Katie, Marie, Monica, Regina, Tanya, etc. (If I left someone out, it's only because I'm protecting your identity.)

Lindsay Beth, Crystal, Christian, Katie, Sabrina (is that Sabrina? She DID cut her hair), Stephanie, and Kelly. Instead of doing individual mug shots, the police department decided to have them all stand together, because they're usually involved in misdemeanors together and it saves film.

They live in the Siberian Tundra, as you can see. It's to keep them from escaping. Even though they're free citizens now, some people might not think they're ready for the real world yet. Who knows when they might slip back into their old ways.

This is Christina. She's from Russia and is trained in highly specialized martial arts and Ninja fighting power. She actually used to train secret military fighting forces, but one day...she went rogue. I can't say any more than that.

This is Justin. He's really shy, hence the silhouetted image. Doesn't like his picture taken...thinks it steals his soul. Actually, he's a bit of a celebrity. I'm not supposed to tell you this, but Justin is Steve Jobs' nephew! So, obviously, Justin loves everything Apple and Macintosh. Sometimes, he'll be talking to his Mac Book Pro or iPad or iPhone or iPod (I just realized they all start with a "P", huh) and you have to just be like, "Geez, get a room." So weird.

For Christmas, look what these sweet folks did for me since I couldn't be there for the Annual Ex-Con Christmas Party.

This is the Boss and Lady Boss.

Katie and Kelly and CHOCOLATE!!!!!!!!
This is Ben. That's his handwriting, too. Girl. (JUST KIDDING, BENNERS!)
John Paul + Botox
BJ, Justin's wife. I wish I had been there, too, Beej. Give Emmy a hug for me!

I love you guys! Y'all are the best ever and simply fabulous. I'm sure I'll see you this summer sometime. Can y'all send down the fighter jet this time?