No Really... I Swear!

Remember that mom's group I found around the time that Fynn arrived?  The one that had their first get-together (after I'd heard of them) the night of Fynn's first shot?

And the second one the day of Tom's and my fifth wedding anniversary? 

The one that canceled every other get-together while I was off work and held two in a row the first two days I was back at work? 

The one where I stalked the leader and dragged my girls out in a storm to buy Girl Scout cookies, but the mom wasn't there? 

The one where I finally knew we were going to meet because there was this trip to the exotic animal sanctuary that's been in the works for almost two months?  That got snowed out yesterday.

I don't know if any of my friends are beginning to doubt their existence.  It really doesn't matter.  I am.

Deepish Thoughts

As part of my job, I go wherever my employers have their materials.  One of my employers runs the business from her gorgeous home near the top of the foothills.  One morning Nance and I went to pick up a job.  The smell emanating from her house was noxious.  She said that her trainer had her cooking a bunch of broccoli the previous night and that it, for some reason, was still hanging in the air.


Last night I made a bunch of broccoli, pureed it and tossed in the freezer for future consumption by one Fynnie Fynn.


Last night and today I noticed a serious lack of noxious smells.  Except from Maisy, who'd gotten into the compost.


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I have a dilemma.  If I hold my stomach in, I look better.  An odd side effect is that my belly button goes up more than an inch.  Not to an unusual height or anything.


Dilemma?  That makes my breast over an inch closer to my belly button.  I'll bet if I had another baby, I'd eventually be bumping my breasts with my knees.  While walking.


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Last week I made a wild and crazy suggestion to Tom.  It used to be that he enjoyed my weird ideas.  This one involved sending the kids away to Grandma's for at least a day, possibly an overnight, this weekend.  To clean and organize our home.


A snowy pass and a long Saturday morning at work for Tom have eliminated the possibility for this weekend.  We have plans for next weekend that are supposed to be just as fun.  Trip to an exotic animal sanctuary with that mom's group I found when Fynn was born.  It could be fun, I guess.


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Speaking of the mom's group... I hunted down the woman who started the group yesterday.  Her daughter was selling Girl Scout cookies at Albertson's (which Mad now thinks is The Cookie Store).  Bundled up the girls, complete with hair and unstained, appropriate clothes for all of us.  Met the daughter of the mom, other Scouts and a couple of other mothers.  The mother wasn't there.  She apparently just missed us and heard how adorable my girls are.


I am so freaking close to making friends up here.  Part of me wonders if I've hallucinated the upcoming trip to the animal sanctuary.


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Mad thinks "Ins Mints" are the best thing ever.  She was disappointed Fynnie couldn't try them.


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Fynnie's first tooth erupted today.  About an hour after we got up.  She was chewing on my knuckle and it wasn't there.  She nursed, went back to the knuckle and there it was.  Thank goodness, poor baby.  She's the first one of my children to need anything more than a cool washcloth to help her get through.

Mixing It Up

Here's another hodgepodge rundown of life lately:


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Mad-a-speak ~ "I putting a ball on my butt, Dad," really means, "I'm sitting on my ball, Dad."


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Today I went from this

to this

(you can thank me later for sparing you the sight of my extremely tired eyes).

I did have to wrestle the big round brushes out of the stylist's hands.  "Yes, I have curly hair.  Yes, I love straight hair as much as you apparently do.  But I've been out of the house for over an hour and I can feel my baby calling me.  You're going to see physical evidence of my psychic abilities very soon if you don't just dry my hair and let me get out of here."

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Our financial woes have been resolved without loans and with only being late on two payments.  One of them we were still within the "grace period."  The other called me yesterday.  We were less than a week overdue.  On the one hand, I'm glad to know they won't just let us get behind due to sleep deprivation (after Mad was born I overpaid one bill by $250... money I'd intended to send somewhere else... whoops!).  On the other hand... seriously?  After five days I have to confirm every piece of contact information you have on me?  I resisted the urge to have the poor woman repeat herself after each one.  She said due to the economy she has to ask everybody these questions.  I hate her job for her.

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I have found another mom's group in my area.  There is an event Tuesday evening (Mom's Night Out!  At Starbucks!!) I'm hoping to attend.  It all depends on Fynnie.  We'd intended for her two month doctor visit/shot to be last week, but there was a scheduling error.  Thankfully I know they're closed on Friday afternoons and called earlier in the week to see when her real appointment was.  Turns out the girl had put us down for December 8, not October.  I'm all for delaying vaccines to a point, but there are some I think should be given as cold and flu season starts up.  So her new appointment is this coming Tuesday afternoon.  We only do one shot at a time, but if I recall correctly, the first one is a doozie.  If she's not feeling well, I'm not going, obviously.  But the thing is that I've found people.  Now I just have to meet them and take it from there.


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Corey has been making big plans for Halloween with his cousin Sarah.  The original plan was for Sarah and her friends to all dress like zombies; Corey will be a zombie hunter.  Tonight I got this email from my sister-in-law: 

Sarah is not going as a zombie princess. Nor is she going with the group that will be zombie princesses.  She is going with her old friends, and Corey knows all of them. Sarah is going to be a rubber ducky girl, but if Corey would like a zombie, she is willing to add a zombie aspect to her costume.

Sarah's a giver, that girl!