Life in a state of flux.

It's a shame that when life gets crazy and it would soothe the soul to write, that it is the very nature of that time that makes it impossible to sit down and write. Things have been busy here, to put it mildly. Until things are more settled so I can properly write about them, here are some random photos to bring you up to speed:






The super busy-ness began few months ago, when my dad was in the hospital and then transferred to a short-term rehab facility. I did my best to make the latter a bit more like home with those 3M stickers for hanging pictures. Those stickers even get used in our own home because I have terrible commitment issues when it comes to frame arrangements.




Friends have been a saving grace during this time. All those cliches about finding out who people really are during tough times are true. I feel wildly fortunate to have great friends.




George got new shoes. You may not think this is important, but George sure does. They have Mickey Mouse on them, so he shrieks "MIIIEEE!" every time we put them on. And if we DON'T put those on him and dare to put another pair on his feet, he freaks out and cries. The kid is a serious Mickey fan (woohoo!).



A few months ago, I signed George up for the gym daycare. Best $10 a month ever. With El Hub constantly working insane hours, going to the gym is the best way for George to get to play with other kids without me hovering, for me to get my workout on, and for El Hub not to receive texts from me that go WHEN ARE YOU COMING HOME THIS IS ABSURD (confession: he still receives those texts from me sometimes, but on average I've increased my tolerance from 8pm to 10pm). I took this photo during one of the evenings when we got stuck leaving the gym when it was pouring rain out, and George was adorably fascinated by it.




Before and After
We kinda sorta finished our bathroom update. Kind of. I should do a proper post about this one because I am so elated about it. Goodbye, faux green marble formica. Ways in which I dramatize my joy over this: 1) I avoid ever using our guest bathroom anymore because it's just not as pretty, and 2) I taught George to say "Ooooooooh" when we go in the bathroom.




George had his 18-month appointment. He's still a little guy, but he's a healthy guy, and that's what I care about. Also I bribed him with a new $2 wooden airplane toy from Target, and he can now make "whoosh!" flying sounds as he zips it through the air.




George apparently thinks he's grown more than he has though, as he's taken to putting on our shoes. Nice try, kiddo.




Did I mention that George loves Mickey? He put the hat on voluntarily and then kept it on for a hot walk. That might even be more extreme than my own love of the mouse.




My mom sold their house last week and is moving out in a few days. She'll be moving in with us until she can find a place to buy. Speaking of where she'd like to buy, she wants to live in our neighborhood. El Hub is okay with this, pointing out that my mom has been a mother-in-law to my brothers' wives for over 20 years now, so she's pretty good at it at this point. I'm okay with this because my mom is awesome (I take after her, of course). I'm so okay with this that I printed, folded, stuffed, and labeled 80 letters to my neighbors with small houses, asking them to pretty please sell their house to my mom.



Skipping back to the topic of Dad, he ended up going from short-term to long-term care which involved moving to a new facility. And then another new facility a week after that. (I'm telling you, I could write a book.) George likes the television at Dad's new nursing home, Dad likes George, and I like watching them hang out together, so there's a lot of happiness at visits.




And finally, George has learned to shout "CHEESE!" when he holds a camera up to his face. Maybe if he likes photography, I'll actually be in some of these photos I post someday.

Siesta Key.

So life has been uber duper crazy lately. El Hub is working all the time (like, right now as I type this at 11pm on Monday night), my parents' lives are in a state of flux right now, throw in some health issues because those are always fun - that kind of crazy.

You know what's nice when life gets crazy? A vacation.

Thanks to a very kind friend of my mom's, we got to spend a week at the beach near where I grew up. El Hub even took off a couple of days from work to spend the first part of it with us. George and I were originally slated to go with him middway through the week, but then I smacked myself silly for not thinking to take advantage of staying the whole week. Hope my mom actually wanted us to stay the whole week, because that's exactly what we did. I also hope she wanted my oldest nieces camping out in the condo's living room, because that's exactly what they did. Basically, it was like my childhood on steroids with a kid of my own in the mix, just a three minute walk from the beach.

Lots of playing in the sand.















Lots of goofiness.









Yes, that is El Hub working on vacation. Go see the first paragraph about him working all the time.


Lots of family photos.
















Lots of hanging out at the beach during sunsets.












Now it's back to the busy life and the temptation to get caught up in it all again. I'm grateful for these photos, and for the memories of George running into the surf, laughing with the girls and my mom, a couple of lazy days with El Hub, and the feel of the breeze at the beach. I'll try to remember how it all felt on this trip the next time I feel that pull of life's craziness.

I needed a win.

It's been a rough week. And an even rougher day. The kind of rough that I want to write about but can't bring myself to write about publicly, since it's the complicated sort of story that's not really mine and involves health which never seems like a good thing to write about publicly on the internet and oh man my head hurts. You get my drift.

So I could really have used a victory today. I would have taken just about anything. So I decided to reinstall our bathroom cabinet doors, which I removed three weeks ago when I spontaneously decided to stain them. The idea came to my head on a Sunday and I started making it a reality on a Monday. And then didn't reattach them for three weeks. ANYWAY. Reinstalling them should have been an easy win, especially since I was obnoxiously detailed about putting each hinge in its own little labeled baggie, "Left Cabinet, Right Door, Bottom Hinge." I am not joking. I was a cabinet door newbie.

Can't say that anymore! Because when I went to reattach the doors, I got to the very last hinge...

And a spring popped off just as I was about to screw it in.

Are you kidding me!?! Where's my easy win?!?

In case you want to see the ridiculously tiny piece that popped off, here, let me show you:



See it?



Here, this should help:



Yeah, that spring. Popped off. So I did what I know best, googled it. This part hasn't existed for a long time. So long, that the manufacture doesn't even list it on the discontinued parts section of their website.

Then I thought, well, it's not broken broken. Maybe I can fix it. Hah! That spring needed to not only be wedged in a tiny spot, but it also needed this little metal dowel-like thing that was already attached to the other side forced under it as well. To make a long story short, picture me 1) fighting with my needle nose pliers and all these teeny tiny metal bits and realizing I need another set of pliers, 2) not being able to find my other pliers in our sty of a garage, 3) running to the grocery store 10 minutes before it closes to buy another pair because THAT'S HOW MESSY OUR GARAGE IS, 4) wrestling with these little parts and two pliers and cursing and agonizing and then winning. Yes, that is the short version of the story. I didn't include part 2.5 which is when mentally seething at an unnamed individual who treats the garage like a dumping ground. Now you know the long version too!

The most important part of all of this is that I won. I fixed the hinge. I have beautiful stained cabinets with doors actually attached to them that I may someday post photos of when the bathroom a mess. I didn't get my easy win, but I got the win I needed.

Happy belated birthday to me!

Happy birthday to me! Or, happy birthday to me last Saturday. I was too busy celebrating to actually write about it, which is the best kind of birthday.

It is absolutely wild to think about how different this birthday was from last year's. Not to go all drama llama, but last year may have been one of the worst birthdays of my life. I had a particular rough day of feeling like I was failing my miserably sick newborn, and I was lonely over El Hub working past George's bedtime. It was also the last day we breastfed (which, let's face it, probably hormonally added to my memory of it being one of my worst birthdays ever).

But looking back I can also say it was a positive turning point. That day I spent lunch with a wonderful friend and her awesome baby, a woman I am grateful to still be friends with today. In the past year, I've been lucky to make even more friends since then. In the time since then I have gone on to make other awesome momma friends who make me laugh and help keep me rolling with the punches. And making friends as we get older is hard and scary and feels way too much like dating except without the benefit of clearly spelled out hopes and expectations a la online dating. (The whole making friends thing probably deserves a post of its own.) And by going exclusively formula-fed, we were able to rule out certain factors and get a step closer to getting George healthy. Finally, that day was also a reminder that if I want to have a good day, whether it be a birthday or a weekday or any day at all, it's up to me to make it happen.

So I made it happen this year. I asked my parents' to watch the kiddo overnight so we could go to dinner without worrying about when to arrive home (...or to be hangover-free in the morning). I made a dinner reservation. I decided on the Science Center as a George-friendly place to have a little fun before taking him to Mammaw and Grandpa's for the night. And I asked Rob to take some photos of us.



George is trying to say, "You better be getting my good side, Dada."




Then he goes, "Just joshing, I look cute no matter what."




But then he's like, "No, seriously, make sure you get my adorably chubby cheeks."

This was Rob's first time coming with us to the Science Center. Having another person to help wrangle the baby means I have enough hands to bring the DSLR along.







Unsurprisingly difficult to take a decent self-portrait in a dark, gigantic kaleidoscope. But it didn't stop me from trying.





SCIENCE!







George wanted to bring this hedgehog home and love it and squish it and maybe throw it. What can I say, he's 15 months old and recently enamored with throwing small things.





I'm pretty sure this stingray was mooning us.








And then we took this incredibly cute, beloved child and ditched him at his grandparents' house. Later tater! Don't worry, he didn't miss us at all because his Mammaw lets him watch all the television he wants and walk around with her nail polish and play in her kitchen cabinets. Toddler paradise.

Momma-on-the-evening-of-her-birthday paradise looks a lot more like this:



That is a s'mores martini. It tastes uncannily like a s'mores. With vodka. Good job, bartender.




This is the point in the evening where El Hub pulls out the big guns. He gave me two red roses, had restaurant take a photo of us, and then handed me a card. The card is a big deal - El Hub would happily live the rest of his life never receiving or giving another card. Whereas I love them and have saved every single card I've received since I was about five years old. So he gives me a Mickey Mouse card...




...with this printed inside it...





For the unfamiliar, those are the lyrics to a Disney happy happy birthday song I have fond memories of from my childhood. It goes a little something like this:



I listen to this song every year on my birthday. I send it to Disney geek friends on their birthdays. I cross my fingers and toys that maybe Disney will someday bring this song and accompanying show back to the parks someday. (This will never happen. I am a delusional Disney fan.) But just as El Hub isn't a fan of greeting cards, he's not a big fan of Disney either. So for him to get me a 1) Disney 2) card that he 3) printed lyrics on 4) from my favorite Disney birthday song might be the best birthday card I've received yet. I cried.

And then I drank more of my martini.

After dinner, we were off to a 9:10pm (!) movie downtown to see Snow White and the Huntsman. These were my tweeted thoughts:

Saw Snow White & the Huntsman. KStewart, why doesn’t your face move? Charlize, I luff you. Thor, you HOTTIE!

— Victoria Shade (@vshade) June 17, 2012

[SPOILERY SPOILER FOR SPOILSPORTS] Also, if she was locked in a tower for a decade, why did she have shoes to run away in? And since people saw her escape method, why didn't they put bars over it so people couldn't use it in the future? And why did Greta get her youth back? Lame. Lame, I say. But delightful for making fun of and for admiring the prettiness of Charlize and Thor. Good times.

And then we went home and still managed to go to bed before midnight. I'm old, I admit it. And I'm okay with it because life is pretty awesome these days.

Surprisingly sweet sleepy toddler.

George officially switched to one nap a day a few weeks ago. Around 12:30pm each day, we need to be ready to put him down for a three hour nap, or the world ends. It's been interesting learning more about this stage, but it hasn't been fun for George on the days in which he doesn't get enough rest. (Or for me either. SLEEP CHILD SLEEP.) Sorry, butternut.

Today he had a bit of a meltdown right before I began putting him down for his nap, a sure sign he was veering into overtired territory. I anticipated a terrible fight trying to get him into a fresh diaper and sleepsack (I was right), reading him a book (I was right), and singing him a lullaby (I was wrong).

George snuggled up against me and laid his head in the crook of my neck in a way he lately only ever does in the middle of the night when he's not feeling well. I sang to him and caught his little smile out of the corner of my eye. George lifted his head and pursed his lips in the way he does when he is asking for a kiss. I obliged, and then he laid his head down while I continued singing. Then he lifted his head again for another kiss. We repeated this at least a dozen times, with him smiling a little smile each time.

Sometimes they surprise you. It's the best.

Happy Father's Day.

Happy Father's Day to my dad, who helped teach me the value of being curious and how magical the world can be...








...and to the loving and clever father of my child, who is going to teach George so much about the world as well. (I can take care of teaching him about the magical part. Thanks again, Dad.)