On the table.

Wow, it's been a month since my last post.

This post, though, is going to be my last post. At least for Little Buggas.

It's been six months since one of the worst days of my adult life. If you "know" me, you know what day I'm talking about.

And while there are seventeen separate posts that were written or half-written or barely started all talking about or alluding to those events or any that took place afterwards, none of them ever saw the light of day.

I'm removed from it now. In a different place. No longer angry, or sad, or hurt.

So I'm going to speak for me.

Hashing out the dirty details is not necessary. But I'm closing a chapter of my life by abandoning this blog, and in doing so, I need to clear my own personal air.

I want you to know that every time I uttered a word of gratitude, I meant it. Every prayer and word of encouragement was heartfelt. Every gift that was given was given with love. And I sincerely appreciate all of the kindness that was ever shown to me.

But my heart was broken to pieces that day. And by people I never, ever dreamed were capable of it.

I am quite fragile. It's a curse, I admit. I was in a bad place during those days. Fighting hard to avoid the PPD that plagued me with the Boy, living in those hard months between the death of my mom and the holidays and all of that. I broke, what can I say? It wouldn't have taken much to fix it, but that wasn't in the cards, I guess. Or else, I wasn't worth it. Whatever the reason, I can't dwell on it.

I may not have gone out screaming. Okay, so I skulked out into the night. You may consider it cowardly, but I was only protecting myself from things I feared would happen to further break my spirit (and those things, sadly, did occur).

Even one day later, my god, how I missed my girls.

So my Molly did something that I will forever be grateful for. She made a new space, with a touch of the familiar and some of the new. Whether I've ever said it or not, and whether it's true or not (and I don't want to know if it isn't, lol), I consider it a gift to me. And quite frankly, it's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.

And lo and behold, most of my girls followed. While my heart was still broken, my girls made sure to try to fix it. And slowly but surely, they did. I never minded that they didn't make a clear-cut choice. I never minded that they divided their time. I never expected or asked them to pick a team. When the time came, they chose me. ME (Okay, and Molly too. Maybe a little bit). Can you even imagine?

And I'm happy again.

See, I never claimed myself to be the greatest thing since sliced bread. Hell, I've never even considered that title for myself. I'm just a silly girl with a busy life and a rambling brain who likes to have some friends to talk to. Maybe I invest too much in these relationships. Put too much of my hopes into them. I don't know.

But everything that I was back then was genuine. It was LA. Even the asshole parts. I've tried to right the wrongs, when the opportunities have arisen. Done what I can to restore my own karma to normal. Because I know I wasn't always so nice. I take responsibility for that behavior rather than shift the blame. I admit it, and I feel regret.

But I'm moving forward. On to new things. If you wish to follow me, you know where to find me. I'm not going into hiding by any stretch, so even if you don't want to ask, I'm sure you'll find me anyhow.

Thanks for reading. I hope you got something out of this sorry excuse for a blog. And I promise that round two will be, if not more entertaining, then at least more consistent.

Seven? Really??

Doing my evening blog hopping, my Mollydoll makes me aware of the fact that in a mere seven days, I will have the awesome opportunity to put all of the pieces of the puzzles that are three of my dearest friends together into real, animated, people that not only actually EXIST, but who will be within arms reach for a whole weekend.

I? Am totally freaking out.

Secretly, I think I kind of suck a whole lot. Fortunately, I have a really cute baby who likes to give snuggles, so they won't kick me out immediately.

To do before then?

Get a haircut.
Do something about the roots.
Buy a really soft cuddly shirt.
Somehow become cool in person.

Wish me luck, kay?

What's the opposite of list?

So it's the happiest day in the Bugga home, otherwise known as "The day we get to turn the heat off!" Because if it weren't for Princess Cold Toes, we'd turn it on about four nights a year.

To celebrate, I decided to clean out the refrigerator.

I always realized just how much my pack rat tendencies showed themselves in the contents of my pantry. I was so proud when there were only two jars of peanut butter and one taco kit in the cabinet above the microwave--I used to buy one of each every single time I went to the grocery without questioning it whether we needed it or not.

For the first time, I am genuinely ashamed of the contents of my refrigerator.

What I do not need when I go to the grocery later:

A-1 sauce (two half bottles, one full)
Kosher dills (three jars of spears, one jar of sandwich stackers)
Green olives (three half jars, and I know there are two full jars in the cabinet)
Soy sauce (two bottles, both with about a tablepoon missing, because I use it for stir fry and only stir fry about once a year)
Strawberry milk goo (two bottles)
Baby juice (8 bottles of flavors she hates)

I also have enough individual servings of jell-o, pudding, applesauce, and various diced fruits to not have to buy snacks for the boy through the end of the school year. Which is in June. I have six pints of strawberries, too, but that was totally on purpose.

I should probably avoid working on the closet today, as I imagine my 27 pink shirts (just the pink ones!) will only serve to further depress me.

Seriously, what causes a person to do this?

For you, friend...

You got so sick so quickly, I didn't get to say much to you in private. The talks we did get to have, you wanted hope, so that's what I tried to give you.

I just want you to know that I'm glad I got to have you as a friend, even though it was for such a brief period of time. You brought to my life some fun and laughter, and I thank you. You made me feel needed sometimes, and I already miss that.

You leave behind a whole slew of friends who would have given anything to take all of this away and to have you back with us. You made us smile, friend. As we sat and remembered how your favorite work activity seemed to be hiding outside the bathroom door so you could scare us as we came out, we had to laugh--you had to pick April Fool's Day, didn't you?

I've lost a parent, and grandparents, and aunts and uncles. I've lost people who had full lives and people who had half lives. I've never lost a friend, though, and I can't help but think that you were just to the point of beginning your life when this huge ordeal was...what's the word? Put upon you.

It doesn't make sense. Not one bit.

I want you to know, friend, what I take from this.

I hug my kids a little tighter each night; as I watch your mom try to get through this, I have to keep in mind that I cannot take for granted for even one second that the rest of my life will include my two beautiful babies. I need them to know that I love them with everything that I am, and no matter how, when, or why they need me, I will always, always be there.

I cherish my friends a little more. I don't know how long I'm going to have them, and I need to love those people who choose me as a confidant, a partner in crime, a shoulder to cry on...I need to make sure that they always know that the role they play in my life is unique and valued and appreciated more than I'll ever be able to put into words.

I need to take care of my health. I need to trust my gut, not ignore things, and remember that I am not, in fact, invincible just because I'm 29 years old.

I hope that wherever you are, the pain is gone. I hope that you can somehow see or feel the love that so many people felt for you. I hope you know how important you were to so many people, and how much, how desperately you will be missed.

Rest peacefully, friend.

Love,
la

Tag, I'm it!

I was tagged by Mandy (who did this for me!)

for seven random things...


Here are the rules:

1. Link your tagger and list these rules on your blog.
2. Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.
3. Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs.
4. Let them know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

And awaaaay we go!

1. I was born with an extra pointy tooth in between my two front teeth. I had both baby and permanent. Sometimes I miss my extra fang!
2. I got pregnant 3 times while on birth control, but it took three years to get pregnant with LB once we started actively trying. Go figure.
3. I complain about how tired I am or how much my arms hurt because LB won't go to bed at night anywhere but in our bed, in my arms, but I love that THAT is what she needs Mama for. We have the best giggles rolling around on the bed before night-night and nobody else gets that.
4. I like to dip french fries into milkshakes.
5. I accidentally brought home a pair of shoes without paying last week. I called the next day, and the manager told me not to worry about it, but I spent that 24 hours or so in a sweat!
6. I own over 150 shirts. Not including sweaters.
7. I recently discovered that my favorite flower is the poppy. I don't even know that I've seen one in real life, but I've seen a lot of them represented artistically recently, and I really, really heart them.

And I don't know that I have seven readers to tag that weren't already picked by Mandy, so I'm gonna go

Mollydoll
Jenn
and Jess

Little weirdos...

Both my kids. Odd.

LB ate tomato soup and guacamole for dinner tonight. Both on my "Top Ten Foods I hate with a capitol HATE." She gags on bananas and green beans, and her favorite flavor of yogurt is barfy vanilla. I swear I don't see how she can belong to me.

The Boy is hanging out at his Pap's for spring break. Today he calls me to tell me he is currently in New York, as he flew his kite there. He told me about the "Empiral State Building" and about watching Hairspray on Broadway, and also, somehow, about the pyramids. No clue there.

Then he asked me if we could get chickens, particularly a rooster that he can chase around the yard.

Doubt it, kiddo.

Ain't nothin' better...

Welcome to the world, baby AJ!

Congrats, Mama--can't wait to hear all about it!!

Do I win a prize?

Crappiest week EVER. I deserve an award. A mud pie. Something. Just for surviving.

Single mom'ed it last weekend so Hubs could get some "me" time. He proceeds to throw his back out an hour after he gets home. Two trips to the ER later, he's an invalid, recovering just in time to go out of town again for a work convention thing. Babysitter issues, grumpy coworker week, two crankpot kids, I'm getting the respiratory funk AGAIN (I keep trading gastro funk for a nasty sinus/throat/hack thing), and then I lose my wallet.

Not just any wallet. My birthday wallet, the most fantabulous accessory I've ever owned. It makes me feel like a rock star. I cried. CRIED. I'm silly like that.

Thankfully today it started looking up, because in some stroke of genius, I thought to call the dollar store, as that was the last place I recall actually seeing my rock star wallet. Thank you lord, I'd dropped it there two days ago, and I ran over and got it back, fully intact.

So I'm taking that as a sign that things will not be crap forever.

The end.

2/3!

What a lovely fraction.

Even lovelier girly!



Happy 8 months, sweet girl!

A good thing indeed...

Talking to my darling Mollydoll recently, we shared some of those moments that we're starting to experience with those ever-growing bundles of personality known as our sweet daughters. You know those moments--the ones where you grit your teeth, find that little pocket of extra Mama love somewhere deep down, and remind yourself that you do, in fact, adore your child, to the moon and back ten thousand times, despite the frustration you're feeling right this very second.

We're calling these our "Good thing you're cute!" moments.

So why is it a good thing LB is cute?

1. Sleep is poison! Who needs sleep? Not me! Not mama! Wheeee!
2. See this hard thing in my hand? I'm gonna swing it! I'm gonna bang it on your knuckles! I'm gonna throw it! Wheeeee!
3. Ooh, I have hands! Hands make a funny noise when they smack against other skin! Especially face skin! Especially MAMA face skin! Wheeeee!

So yeah, she's a violent little insomniac.

Now, we've all got them. Please share yours--comment, blog, whatever your pleasure.

Why is it a good thing YOUR kid is cute?

The stuff I don't tell anybody...

Until I know it's okay.

Roaster's been having some diagnostic testing done lately. He's had some problems that I, unfortunately share (see: Dear Sickies--PLEASE GO AWAY!) and have shared since I was about Boy's age. Last week's first round had to go out for biopsy, with results ready by today's second round. Fortunately, everything came back just fine, a few preventative medications and some monitoring, but no big C, no exploratory surgery, nothing else major.

So now I guess I need to quit worrying about him and start worrying about LA.

Boo, hiss.

I'd just prefer that the Sickies PLEASE GO AWAY.

Dear Roaster...

If taunting Boy is your way of cluing me in that you've found yourself a lady friend, please be advised that you are making me far more uncomfortable than you would if you just told me outright.

Does it make me sad? A little. But I want you to be happy, and I know you can't be happy without someone to share your time with. I'll get over it, I promise. But there are things I don't want to hear about and things I don't want to know.

And I don't think it's funny.

So please, Daddy, please stop. Tell me whatever you want me to know, like grown ups. I'll be fine. I'll even be nice to the lady. Maybe I'll be friends with her kids.

But I can't laugh about it. I can't help you torture my kids with "Oooh, going on a date, smoochy smoochy!" goofiness.

Help me out?

Thanks.

Dear Sickies

PLEASE GO AWAY.

That is all.

Randomness

I had a box of those "feminine cleansing wipes" that my MIL gave me in a post-baby goody bag. Couldn't use them at the time, so I stashed them under the cabinet. Apparently Boy thought they were same as the Kandoo or Charmin wipes, and he has proceeded to use them all up. He really didn't understand when Hubs told him last night "I thought you'd been smelling fresh as the spring rain!"

Yeah, we're strange.

Time to dust off that trophy again...

Dear SD--

There is a reason I call you SD, and not, generally, "Boy's Dad."

When your son admits to faking sick at school on Friday in order to get to sign out early, and you call at the last possible minute to request your weekend (since you haven't taken one in, what, two months?), promising to administer some sort of discipline for what Mama considers a major, MAJOR infraction, I would expect you to deliver on that promise.

A pool party? Really? REALLY? Please explain to me how, exactly, that qualifies as discipline?

Thank you so much for backing me up. We won't even get into how I was told you wouldn't be home because you were going to be out running around "town," not "a town 100 miles away." (And without a booster seat, you champion fucktard! They're $15. BUY ONE.)

Now, please, go back to not calling so I can go back to raising my son.

Compliments?

Okay, so we finally decided to tough it out at Lola's, which is supposed to have the best pizza in town. We waited half an hour, and I had my first glass of wine in ages, which I proceeded to spill down the front of my favorite sweater. Crap.

Anyhow, here's what we heard about our girly:

"Oh, she's so lovely! I sell medical equipment to NICUs, so I see a lot of babies, and I know a pretty baby when I see one. That's a pretty baby."

Why, thank you!

"I'm a nanny, and I just wanted to say that you have the most beautiful baby!"

We like to think so!

"Oh! Your baby has the most perfectly shaped head!"

I...wait, what?

Fortunately, all I could think of was "Um, thanks?"

Because I imagine "Yes, my vagina is very spacious" would have been inappropriate.

Who is this guy??

Who is Your Ideal TV Boyfriend?

More on Gossip Girl. Created by BuddyTV

I think it's just a ploy to get me to watch the show.

Seven months

Seven month odds and ends:

She's crawling like a demon, pulling up every chance she gets (although, thankfully, she's a whole lot more content to pull up to kneeling than to standing), and saying "Mah," "Gah," "Da," and "Ba." I *think* she's waving, and she blows "kisses," which is actually more of a lip-smacking in response to someone else making a kissy noise, but it's darn cute at any rate. She loves tomato soup and guava, hates any food with a meat in it. One tooth with four more visible below the gums, and no interest in a sippy.

She cracks herself up and is starting to not like strangers. Loves her big brother and is a Mama's girl through and through.

And I like it that way.

She melts my heart more every day.

Happy birthday, my sweet baby girl.

One week

One crawler
One puller-upper
One toofer

One ecstatic-yet-devastated Mama.

Getting the hang of it...

I was cleaning out a desk drawer at work yesterday, looking for a key. I found this:


Note the girl, question mark.

And that's exactly how I felt.

Girl? GIRL? Even though I knew in my heart of hearts that she was as different as she could possibly be from her brother, I don't think I saw that one coming.

What am I going to do with a girl, I thought?

What, indeed.

That was a year ago today. A year ago, I was overwhelmed at the thought of being responsible for turning this girl into a wonderful, lovely young lady.

And we're still a long way from young lady, I realize, but I ask myself now. What was I so worried about?

I have a daughter. And instead of being terrified, I can't wait for the rest of it all. Funny how it all works out.

Oh, and she can totally do this now:

Dear Target...

Why must you now have adorable ladybug bedding? It's so pretty, and red, and everything I wanted...a year ago.

I will always love you, Target, but I am sad to say I'm a little disappointed in you.

Of course, I guess that means I was kind of ahead of the times, so that's cool.

In related news, the woman behind us in line bought the following items:

Tylenol
A book
A Love Songs CD (didn't catch the title)
and
A box of condoms

I'm still trying to figure out how she planned on her Friday night ending...

No more negativity.

I’ve realized lately that the blogosphere is a microcosm of the world. It is filled with people from all walks of life. As a blogger, I am just a drop in the bucket of this diverse community. In reading blogs, I’ve found stories of hope, inspiration, humor, and joy, and I’ve tried to contribute just a little to that.

But as in the world, the blogosphere is also contaminated with negativity. Blogging as a medium allows one to say things that she might not otherwise say to someone’s face. Unkind words, veiled and not-so-veiled references, and hateful remarks are all too common in this world. I myself may have contributed to this negativity, either through this blog, or in real life.

Anne Frank once wrote, “How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world.” It is with that thought that I’ve decided to join the Kind Blog movement.

Henceforth, this blogger:
1. Will not knowingly write or publish hurtful remarks toward another person.
2. Will not accept hateful comments from readers.
3. Will not acknowledge or participate in written attacks on other people or groups.

I believe that one person CAN make a difference toward making the world a more positive place. The negativity will stop here, with me.

I'm not so good at this...

I may not be the world's worst blogger, but I'm sure I'm pretty highly ranked on the "lame" list.

Work has been kicking my butt. Poor sweet girl got the creepy crud last week, that dreaded bronchiolitis. Coupled with an ear infection, poor girl. She's such a champ, though. Until her nose would get all gunked up, she has been as happy as a clam. Love her sweet little heart. She's all better now. I ended up with some kind of respiratory thing myself, and between that mess and work and kids and life, I am wiped. If it weren't for said work, kids, and life, I imagine the decade-younger version of myself might consider a nice little bender this weekend. Instead, Mama will settle for a cup of cocoa and pay-per-view.

Oh, and we're officially crawling. Two arms, two legs, and we're off. I'll post some video when she decides to stop being such a coy little bugga.

That's not for participation!

Oh, no! That's a real, live, hard earned trophy.



You can't tell it by the look on his face, but I swear he was about to pee his pants.

All his idea, brought to life with a little help from the grown-up types. Smoked on the pinewood derby track because Mama accidentally glued one of the wheels into a stationary position (oops!), but the judges were impressed.

Best in show, that's my boy!

New life...

My congratulations this weekend go to Whymommy, who had a successful surgery and is now home recuperating with her lovely family.

And to my darling Canape, whose sweet Bird made his entrance into the world yesterday.

Take a minute to offer them both a Hooray!

Tomorrow

Tomorrow, all my prayers are for Whymommy, who will begin her life again.

Tomorrow, please reserve some of yours for a woman who is an amazing source of inspiration for so many of us.

Susan, I wish you a smooth surgery, a speedy and complete recovery, and a million more tomorrows.

You are cordially invited...

To a potluck wedding reception.

How do we feel about this??

It's a second marriage, and a small family affair at that. But I've never been to a covered dish wedding before.

I'm kind of intrigued.

A whole half!

Already? Impossible.



Happy halvsies, my sweet girl.

Hand me a brick...

I am so not ready for this.

Thankful Thursday

Boy's follow up today. The pediatrician? Totally overreacted.

There is absolutely nothing wrong. He's just made the way he's made. So after a *VERY* brief "What a load of crap!" moment...

Woo Hoo!!

So today I am thankful for a healthy boy, and that healthy girl right down there. For good friends, a *mostly* good husband, and, well, yadda, yadda, yadda...

'sa good day.

Wordless Wednesday

I wish we stayed home more.

Between working on the addition to the IL's house and my never-ending guilt that I ever moved out of my parents' home, we hardly ever stay home on a weekend. I never thought there'd be a bright side to Hubs's truck breaking down, but it meant we had a perfect excuse not to go anywhere this weekend.

Gah, it's nice. I got the house de-Christmased and even cleaned yesterday, all before noon. Then we decided to do something nice for the boy, so we packed up and headed out to Chuck E. Cheese. Almost there, we decided to drive on and pick up cousin A, then head on down to Billy Bob's Wonderland, which is a CEC ripoff that has laser tag. They whacked-a-mole and motorcycle raced their little hearts out, then we bought them both a hamburger and home we came.

They're good boys, I'm glad they're in my life. I don't think LB has ever had as good a time as she had riding in between them in the car.

Now I'm sitting here dreading going to the grocery store. Dreading getting up for a full work week tomorrow, because I know that first week in January means almost six full months of no long weekends, no breaks, no nothing. Blech. Didn't hit the Powerball last night, unfortunately, so I don't have a choice in the matter. Boo.

A very special haiku Friday...

One promise, broken
Another soon to come true;
Both songs of her heart.

The world is waiting
With breath that is baited, child.
Come fly with us now.

Mama Bird's sweet voice
Open arms, lullabies, love.
Yours for the taking.



Dear sweet bird,
Your time has come!

Happy Term Day, Canape!

May old acquaintance be forgot...

Or something? No idea how that song goes, I just hum it.

Happy new year, all! I wish you nothing but health and happiness in the 366 days to come!