34 years old; it ain’t the end, but it sure ain’t where I began…

The past two years I’ve written a post on my birthday and even though I guess I don’t write much anymore, I would feel remiss if I skipped this year.

I re-read both of my previous posts and wonder if I’ll be able to do them justice…they were just a perfect reflection of where I was at the time.   Funny how that works.  You can read 32 here and 33 here.

But I think the one that struck me the most was last years.  I had listed six thoughts about the coming year.  So I thought it would be fun to go back through them and see how things turned out.   Ready?  Ok.  (Hit it!)

1. 33 will undoubtedly be the hardest year of my adult life. I know this already because I’ve spent the last 10 weeks with a little taster of what’s in store for me.

I should probably just go ahead and buy a crystal ball to set up shop, because this prediction was dead ON.  Wow.  This past year has been hard.  Really hard.  I’ve struggled with a lot with things….big things like “who am I now?”, “what kind of mother do I want to be”, “can I handle this?”,  “am I happy?”  “do I want/need to work?”  and “how the hell do you get a kid to nap?”  to little things, like “what am I supposed to feed my kid?”, “should I really go to Target every week?”,  “where can I buy dry shampoo in bulk?”  and “can I really wear yoga pants every day?”

Let’s just say it’s been an adjustment.  Having kids is hard.  Do people talk about this?  Am I supposed to be talking about this or should I just gloss over all of the tough times?   I feel like it’s ok to talk about it, because yes, it’s hard.  It’s the hardest thing you’ll ever do….but it’s also the most important.  To acknowledge that something is bigger than yourself, and LET it be bigger….is very humbling and surprisingly rewarding.

2. 33 will also undoubtedly be the most rewarding year of my adult life. As hard as it’s going to be, I believe that it’s the most important job I’ll ever do.

Yes.  Just, yes.

3. I want need to make sure I don’t lose myself in all of the changes happening in our lives. I still want to be me.

This has been harder.  I had really good intentions to make myself a priority, but it’s obviously easier said than done.  I think the resounding question regarding this is….WHEN?  When can I focus on myself?   At 5:00 a.m. before Abby gets up at 6:00?  During one of the ONE hour naps she’ll MAYBE take?  Or is it after she goes to bed at 7:00 when I’m utterly exhausted?   To be honest….none of those are appealing.  Obviously.  I think that’s why I’ve struggled with blogging.  I desperately want to.  And I guess if it were more of a priority I would MAKE time.  But there are so many other things I need to do that it unfortunately takes a back seat.

So, obviously I need to work on this.  And I think I’m doing better.  Now that I’m done nursing, Abby doesn’t physically need me.   She’ll always need me, but not in the same way (where I’m her main food supply).    I think this has helped me mentally as well.  The Hubs can feed her just as easily as I can now.

I didn’t expect it to take so long, but I’d say now (within the last month), I’m finally starting to feel like me.  To feel adjusted.  To feel normal.  So I joined the gym so I can return to Oula (you should really watch that video, it’s kinda hilarious).  I signed up for a training class to run a half marathon.  I’m getting back to me.  Slowly but surely.   This is something I’ll continue to work on….and hey.  Maybe soon I’ll get back to blogging (I mean, I’m dying to tell you about the awesome rug and play area in Abby’s room, my ombre kitchen stools and my banishment of all-things-red from the kitchen!).

4. I want to create an environment where Abby can learn and explore her passions.

I consciously make an effort towards this everyday.  I know Abby is still young, but I think if I start now it will help when she’s older and starts forming opinions.

I just really hope she likes to ski.  Please please like to ski!

5. Speaking of passions…I want to explore my own. Lately I’ve been feeling a little lost…as if I don’t really know what I’m passionate about anymore.

Still working on this one too.  But after a conversation with my step-mom about this, I think I’m re-defining my view of passion.  Just because I don’t feel passionately about things like hunting, running or rafting ….doesn’t mean I’m not passionate.   I’m passionate about family.   Being a mom.  Being a sister, daughter, aunt.  I like to make things with my hands….like healthy meals and (ok) cookies.   But I also (strangely) like to build things with wood, paint, decorate and refinish things.  I like the outdoors….hiking, skiing, walking and taking in the beauty of this wonderful place.

I have a lot of interests and maybe I don’t need to have strong passion for one thing. Maybe it’s ok have a little passion for a lot of things.

6. I want to slow down.   I want to refocus on what’s really important: Friends. Relationships. Family. Memories.

I actually think I’ve done ok with this.  I don’t over-extend myself often.  I’m learning to say no.

Of course there are times when things just get busy.   For instance, this is our first weekend home in three weeks.   But you know what?  We were spending them with friends and family having fun.  Making memories.   Is my house a disaster?  Of course.  But it can wait.   And I’m learning to be ok with that.    It’s not easy, but it’s important.

So yeah, I guess overall I’m doing ok.   I would still love to blog more.  But I’d also like a new house and a stylist (seriously, probably shouldn’t be wearing yoga pants and torn jeans all of the time).

For now, I’m just trying to be ok with the way things are.  My best friend here in town has always worked hard to be happy NOW.   Not “when “x” happens,” or “as soon as “y” happens.”   Be happy now.  Because life is short and you don’t know what tomorrow holds.  And you know what?  She is one of the most optimistic, happiest people I know….even though life isn’t perfect for her.    Heck, is it for anyone?

If I know anything, it’s that life is precious…and tomorrows aren’t guaranteed.  So hug your kids (hug yer wife!) and live for today.

(Please tell me someone got that little play on words??)

Anyhoo.  Guess I’m getting all sentimental this year.   I’m sure I’ll read this next year and wonder why I’m being such a sap.

OR, I’ll be running a very successful psychic shop and TELL you why I was being all sentimental last year.

As always, I’ve borrowed my title from one of my favorite Jewel songs, Stephenville, TX.   This year I thought I’d share it with you so you know what the heck I’m talking about.

abby’s birthday

Let’s just go ahead and pretend that it hasn’t been 3 months since I’ve posted….ok?

Ok.  Now that we’ve got that out of the way, I thought it was due time I shared a bit about Abby’s birthday with you.  She turned 1 earlier this month and we of course had a little celebration.   I actually really struggled with how much of a party it needed to be; do you keep it simple or do you go-big-or-go-home?   Part of me really wanted to have a big party with a theme and decorations and everything-Pinteresty.   But the other part of me just kept thinking….dude.  She’s 1.

In the end, my rational-brain won and we decided to have a small family get together with our immediate family.  Because when I actually sat down and thought about it, the only thing I really cared about for Abby’s birthday was (1) making it special to her and (2) making her cake.   Besides, we have about 18 more years of birthdays that can be over-the-top if she wants.  For now, we were keeping it simple…and just because it’s simple doesn’t mean it can’t be kind of Pinteresty (are you following me?  You should!).

The Hubs and I are lucky enough that both of our parents and all of our siblings live close enough to drive to town for the day.   Wait, let me rephrase.  The Hubs and I are lucky enough that we have parents and siblings willing to drive upwards of 2 hours for a 1-year olds birthday party.   And since her birthday is in February, we decided a sledding party might be in order (sorry Abs, you’ll probably have lots of sledding parties….at least until you can ski).

We have a big park in the back of our house with a couple of rolling hills (great for mini-sledding) and a bigger hill (great for big-kid or brave-adult sledding).

So the plan was to do some late-morning sledding, come in for some chili and  then do cake.   And even though nearly all of the snow melted into a giant ice/snow rink the week before her birthday (thanksalotglobalwarming) we were still able to get some sliding around done.   And it was a beautiful bluebird day to boot.

I’d say she enjoyed it…..

So then it was time for chili.  Isn’t chili just one of those awesome comfort foods?  I love me some chili.  I made our favorite elk chili and then this tasty little number:

(image from ambitious kitchen)

Sweet potato, black bean and quinoa chili with smoked chipotle.  Go make it now.  Seriously.  Go.   Now.  It’s amazing.   I used to think nothing could beat our elk chili recipe but I was wrong….this is just as good if not better.  And it’s vegetarian (gasp).

We had all of the fixings of course, my award winning maple cornbread, fritos, sour cream, vinegar (please tell me you put vinegar in your chili too?), green onions, cheese….mmmm.   Maybe what I like most about chili is all of the fixings you get to put in it.  But I digress.

Birthdays are mostly about cake, are they not?  And I knew I wanted to make Abby’s cakes.  In fact, I hope I always make her cake…it’s something my mom used to do for me and something I want to do for her.

Hellooooooo doll cake!   You were my favorite!  And wow, Mom, I just realized you broke out the CHINA for my birthday.  Looks like we were slumming it with the paper plates for Abby.

I’ll spare you the details of making Abby’s cake….but let’s just say making a cake from scratch is not always easy.  And sometimes one itsy teeny weeny mistake like using PAM can mess the ENTIRE thing up.   Don’t use Pam.

I have to say though, I am quite pleased with how this all turned out.   Yes.  Quite pleased.   Because no matter how many awesome ombre cakes there are on Pinterest, I guarantee you there is not ONE tutorial out there for how to do it.   I should write one; but who am I kidding, I don’t blog.

Gah.  Too many words.  Let’s just get to the pictures, shall we?

Do you love that banner so much like I do?  I wish I could say I made it.

  I wish you could see the candle holders up close!  They are a fish, duck and pheasant.  So incredibly appropriate for a hunters daughter.  And actually pretty darn cute.

The “1” was actually a last-minute decision.  But I’m glad I did it!

And now…the Pièce de résistance

Oh you pretty little cake…how you tortured me so.

 Don’t let these pictures fool you.  She did not, I repeat not like cake.  There was no smashing.  No laughing.  No sticking her face in it.  No having to tear it away as she screamed for more.  She just really wasn’t interested.   Maybe next year.  Or maybe it just needs to be in the shape of a doll.

Here’s her birthday present.  She loves it.  Not actually sitting on it, but she loves standing on the chairs or laying on the table.  Cuz that’s safe.

Sorry, can’t talk right now…I’m riding a pony.

And just like that, the party was over.

Sometimes I can hardly believe that she is a year old already and sometimes I think she ought to be 5 by now.   In fact I ran across a quote the other day that really resonated with me…

“The days are long, but the years are short.  Don’t blink.”

I try to remind myself of that often.  No matter how long the day (or night) may seem, these years really will fly by.

Now can we just look at this again please?

abigail’s birth story

I can’t believe how long overdue this is. 

Funny, that’s pretty much exactly the same thing I was thinking at 41 weeks pregnant.  Ha!

I started writing this post in March.   Yeah, like 9 months ago.   I finally decided I needed to finish it because I really am forgetting the details (even though when I first wrote this I was begging someone to tell me WHEN I would forget the pains of labor!).

Brace yourself; it’s long.  (that’s what he said….booya!)

Like, really long.  But I figure it’s more for me than anyone so if you’re not into this sort of thing, come back in a few days (let’s be honest…weeks) and we’ll chat about something else! 

So here goes.  Here’s the story of my “easy birth” Erin Cherry!   (This is my girlfriend who just last week says to me, “well dude, you had an easy birth, right?”   I just looked at her and said:  “Erin.  Do not ever tell any woman that her labor was easy.”)  Sheesh.

Anyhoo…

My due date was Friday, January 27th.   A date that came and went without incident.  Not so much as a Braxton Hicks.  My OB was only comfortable with letting me go one week pas my due date, so at my last appointment she scheduled an induction for Monday, February 6.    This irritated me (like everything does when you’re 40 weeks pregnant).  Why you ask?  Because technically a week overdue would be Friday the 3rd.   And if my Dr. was soooooo worried about me going longer than 41 weeks, she should have scheduled my induction for Friday.   But my precious little OB “doesn’t work on Fridays and had a massage scheduled.” 

Priorities, right?

At least I know where she stands.   

So after I secretly rolled my eyes, I reminded myself that this was a good thing.     It gave me a few more days to let things happen on their own without having to be induced. 

Speaking of drugs…I didn’t really have a birth plan per se.   I didn’t feel strongly about how the birth should happen, mostly because I had no idea what to expect.  I just wanted a healthy mom and baby.  However, over the course of my pregnancy I did start to have some preferences.   These preferences were:

• I’d prefer not to be induced.
• I’d like to go without an IV.  I typically faint at the sight of needles.
• I’d like to avoid an epidural.  This is a GIANT needle.
• I’d like to not have a cesarean.  Knives are worse than needles.

I guess that means I was hoping for an a’la natural birth. 

5 days past due.  Still rockin’ the heels!  My feet killed me that night. 

Ironically, exactly a week past my due date on Friday, February 3rd,  I woke up at 4 a.m. and said, “uh oh.”

I woke up with what felt like a combination of  menstrual cramps and Braxton Hicks (false labor contractions that I’d had since about week 26).   The Hubs was asleep, so I just figured I’d wait it out and see if this was the real deal.   As I sat in bed, I noticed the contractions were coming regularly and were increasingly more uncomfortable.

Over an hour later, I got out of bed to use the bathroom and nearly buckled over because of a contraction.  This time The Hubs woke up and said “what’s happening?!”  To which I replied…”um…I think I’m in labor!” 

Of course he was annoyed that I had sat there for over an hour and not woken him up.   Whoopsie.  

So immediately The Hubs grabs his phone and says “sweet!  I just downloaded an app yesterday to time your contractions.  Just tell me when one starts and one stops.”   Sounds great, right?  Except that the last (and I mean the last) thing a woman in labor wants to do is announce the coming and going of her contractions.  You’re just trying to make it through alive.  So I wasn’t really very helpful in that regard. 

He could usually tell when one was starting because I’d pause…..bend over…grab my knees and start breathing heavily.   But then dude….there was the Hubs, right beside me like a broken record:   “ok, is it over?   is it over?  are you done?” 

I was not enthused. 

At this point the contractions were uncomfortable, but bearable.  Kind of a “grit your teeth” sort of thing.   Oddly enough, the fancy little app he downloaded was saying my contractions were 3 minutes apart.   Which I thought HAD to be wrong because everything I read said “labor at home for as long as you can.  Put on a movie (really??) or do something to distract yourself.  Only go to the Hospital when your contractions are down to five minutes apart”  I’d only been laboring for an hour and a half at this point so I thought it was impossible that they were coming that fast.  Besides, according to the books I should be at the hospital by now.

So we got up and The Hubs gave me a glass of water and a granola bar and told me to walk up and down the stairs.  (what?)  But what do I know?  So I did it. 

Five minutes later I was in the bathroom puking, and the Hubs was grabbing my hospital bag.  Apparently vomiting was our cue to leave.

Side note:  something no one ever talks about is the ride to the Hospital and how absolutely awful it is!  There is NO comfortable position to sit and each and every bump makes you feel like your baby is about to come out.   This is not cool.  On top of it, February is not an ideal time to be speeding down the road….you know, snow and ice have a tendency to inhibit driving. 

We get to the Hospital and they confirm that I’m actually in labor (duh).   

I’m admitted at 6:00 a.m. 

Once admitted, they give you the standard-issue hospital gown to change into.  I wasn’t thrilled about this…but decided that I’d rather mess up their garments than mine.  

The next thing they do is start asking you a bunch of questions for their records.  Really important things like, “how old are you?” and  “Do you live in a house or an apartment?” 

Seriously. 

I kinda wanted to punch this nurse in the face.    I think the Hubs could sense this because he answered all of the questions while I continued to have contractions.    It’s nearly impossible to talk or think when you’re leading up to, experiencing, or recovering from a contraction.   I just had to “get in my zone” and stay there regardless of what was going on around me. 

It’s kind of weird to be in labor.  You always see TV shows and movies of people just laboring in bed. 

Let me tell you.  It is not like that.

You’re up, walking around.  Buckling over in pain.  Puking in the garbage can.  Running to the bathroom because sitting on the toilet seems like a good idea.   You’re groaning and moaning and making noises you think must be coming from someone else and when you realize they’re coming from you….you don’t give a sh*$.

At least that’s how it was for me. 

The nurse confirmed that my contractions were coming very quickly – now down to only 1 minute of rest in between.   And when she checked my progress I was dilated to 5 cm.   Wow – halfway there already and I had just gotten to the hospital!

I was also pleasantly surprised to learn that an IV wasn’t standard procedure either.  So long as I didn’t request drugs I could remain needle-free. 

Now, speaking of drugs – it got to a point about five hours into it that I wasn’t sure I could do it anymore.  I started to doubt myself, because each contraction seemed worse than the one before.  And they hurt.    I don’t even know how to explain the pain, except that it’s unlike anything else I’ve experienced.     The worst part is that you don’t know how long you’ll have to endure it…it could be 2 more hours or 10.    So at one point I looked at the Hubs and said “I don’t know if I can do this.  I think I want an epidural.” 

And do you know what my kind, loving, supportive Husband said? 

“No.”

No.  As if he’s the one going through this or has any inkling of the intensity of the pain. 

I was quite surprised by this reaction, and if another contraction wasn’t coming I probably would have given him a piece of my mind.   Just cuz that’s how pregnant Janna rolls.

So I labored for another 30 minutes or so, and brought it up again….thisreallyreallyhurtsandithinkineedanepidural!     This time he says,  “No, no.  You aren’t going to do that.  You didn’t want one and you’ll be so much happier afterwards if you don’t do it.   It’s just going to be a motherf#%&@er of a day.” 

Yep. 

He just said that.

To the woman buckled over in pain, delivering his child. 

I was completely speechless.  And if looks could kill I may have just done so that day.

I think I was dilated to 7 cm at this point, and asked to sit in the birthing tub but just my luck, it’s out of order.    So I opted for a shower instead, which felt good on my back for awhile (I was having a lot of back pain).  But really I was probably only in there for 5 minutes when I decided that “nope, this isn’t working.  I need out.  NOW.”  

Once I got back to my room (now soaking wet), the nurse started encouraging me to “push a little bit” to try and get my water to break.  

I was skeeeeered. 

I remembered hearing that contractions are like 10 times worse once your water breaks.     But I wanted to move things along, so I did what she said.   And holy shit.  My water broke in the middle of a contraction as I was standing and leaning on the bed.   I’m pretty sure I was screaming blood murder.  I’m not sure why….it just seemed like a lot of water!

The nurse said my water was slightly green, which means that the baby had pooped into the amniotic fluid.  It’s pretty common among overdue babies, but it can be dangerous if they’ve swallowed any of the water.   So all of a sudden there’s a bunch of commotion in the room as other nurses prepare for that scenario.   I tried not to think about that or any bad outcomes.  I just tried to focus on what I could do – and that was getting this baby out. 

Luckily, by the time my water broke, I was dilated far enough to start pushing.  (And thank you baby Jesus because it’s true.  Contractions are quite different after that soft cushion is gone). 

Pushing is also weird. 

It’s like everyone thinks you should know how to do it.   When really you have no clue what you’re doing.  You just follow your natural instincts I guess, and the nurses are usually pretty good and guiding you along. 

So I’m on the bed.   I’m pushing with each contraction and it dawns on me that the Dr. has yet to show up.  Eric must be thinking the same thing because he says “Will the Dr. be joining us anytime soon??”

Apparently they show up just in time to catch your baby as it comes flying out, which I thought a bit strange.  I assumed she’d be there for more of it. 

(Oh wait, that’s right.  She doesn’t work on Friday’s and had a massage scheduled). 

Anyways….so back to pushing.  Again, weird.  It just feels like you’re taking a giant poo.  Sorry.  But it does.   And it’s exhausting.  And HURTS. 

I remember feeling sorry for any other pregnant women getting admitted to the Labor Wing while I was pushing.  Because I.  was.  screaming.  Like big time.  And I could’ve cared less who heard.   All I wanted was to get the baby out. 

I pushed for about 40 minutes, and at the end I distinctly remember the feeling of her coming down the birth canal, pausing there for a few pushes, and then crazy burning sensation of a head and shoulders coming out followed by the slippery torso and legs.  I tell you, it was amazing. 

And immediately afterwards? 

Peace.

The pain completely gone. 

Just pure joy and excitement to finally see this little one.  And at 10:30 a.m., exactly one week past my due date and 6.5 hours after my first contraction….we got to meet her. 

I hope you have “one motherf%#)er of a day too someday sweetie! 

Oh man.  Those cheeks.  I could kiss them all day.

Our hospital is really into coupling practices….so they basically plop your baby on your tummy right after she is born.  They don’t clean them or anything…just let you do skin-to-skin contact for as long as you like.   It really was amazing to hold her like that so soon.  I was very thankful!

I was also thankful for the nurse who was “cleaning me up” and said ….”oh, let me just get this poo off your leg.  I think the baby pooped on you.”  I’m no idiot, nurse.  But thank you for letting me think that it was the baby for .5 seconds. 

And that my friends is the reality of childbirth.  Glorious childbirth.

Anyhoo, we spent a couple of hours in the laboring room just enjoying Abby and spending some snuggle time together.  Around 1:00 we were moved to the post-partum wing (which was brand new and super nice!) where each of our parents were waiting for us.  My sisters were there with their families and several of our friends as well.  It was so nice to introduce little Abby to everyone!  

In the end….yes I am glad that I was able to make it through without drugs.  I give the Hubs a hard time for saying no (I HAVE to after what he said), but  I know he was just doing what he thought was best and what he thought I would want.  He really was very helpful during the labor….rubbing my back….reminding me to stay low and connected to the earth (that’s my interpretation, not what he was saying!  haha). 

Every birth is different.  Every story is different.  There are no easy labors (Erin Cherry).  They are all special and unique in their own way.  And amazingly enough you do start to forget and think hmmm.  Maybe someday I can do that again.

Maybe. 

Maybe someday I’ll be up for another motherf(*#%er of a day again. 

Until then, I’m going to kiss these awesome cheeks some more.

Can you believe she is getting so big?  At 42 weeks, she is officially outside of me longer than she was inside of me.  Kind of crazy. 

And for those of you wondering….yes.  My Dr. made it to her massage that day.

fall wreath

I love fall.  It’s my favorite season for sure….cool enough to wear jeans, boots and sweaters, but still sunny and warm during the day.  Not to mention the beautiful colors that mark the changing of the seasons.

This year I was intent on making a fall wreath.  I pinned my little heart out on Pinterest….

via

I actually gathered up pinecones during a hike one day to make this wreath.  It feels more “wintery” to me though, so I haven’t made it yet!

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via

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This cornstalk-top wreath (above) was my absolute favorite!  I really really wanted to make it but couldn’t find enough corn stalks.  Sigh.  Maybe next year I’ll start rubbing elbows with some farmers to poach their stalks come fall because I seriously love everything about this wreath.

via

In the end, I decided to make the Nonna Wreath – from Jones Design Company (anyone surprised?  I tend to always go to Emily’s site for inspiration and I’m never disappointed). 

I won’t do a full tutorial here because Emily’s is great.  Simply click on the “via” link above and you’ll be taken to her blog.   I know it must sound like I know Emily, but I actually don’t!  I stumbled upon her blog a few years ago and have been following her ever since.  I find that we have the same tastes in design and her projects are always simple and classic. 

Anyhoo…here’s how my Nonna Wreath turned out!

I love that it’s a bit ruffley and feminine, but not overly-so.  And I do like the mustardy yellow color!  It’s oh-so-fallish.

Those of you with a keen eye will notice that I’ve done a wee bit ‘o rearranging in the living room.   Remember, the console table/entryway used to look like this? 

(wow, and that was before my new camera, obviously!)

And now looks like this:

I decided I didn’t like the wall gallery right there, so I moved it across the room above the couch.  The mirror is one I had lying around.   I want to add a frame to it out of reclaimed wood….you know, make it all rustic and textured?  It’s on the project list.  I think it will help define the space a little bit. 

And this is what it used to look like above the couch:

I knew it would happen and it did.  I got sick of the fabric panels. 

Don’t get me wrong, I still like the idea.  But I’m giving them a rest for awhile.  So here’s what it looks like now:

Let’s play “eye spy the nonna wreath…”

I like to call this look “layered neutrals.”  hahaha.  I’m obviously still struggling with color, but I like to think I’m working on it.  For example, I have thought about adding some colored throw pillows to the couch.  Just not sure what color yet (although I’ve noticed Target has some nice mustard yellow/goldish ones that might work well). 

I also want to put a shelf along the length of the couch, kind of like a long skinny console table.  I found this idea on Pinterest (surprise) to just attach a long board behind the couch as a place to set drinks, etc.  I want to do the same rustic/weathered wood here and maybe put a lamp on each end.  Plus, then it gives me a place to set my beer water so I quit spilling it on the couch. 

So what about you?  Have any of you made a fall wreath this year?  Done any rearranging at your house?  And tell me your secrets for decorating with color…I must know!

random ramblings

I knew it had been awhile since I wrote….but wow. Two months? I DO apologize. I’ve had several posts running through my head so let’s just catch up in a random ramblings, shall we?

But first, this.

After (finally) remembering my logon to WordPress, I checked out my site stats (fully realizing they were going to be dismal. Is anyone even still there?). Annnnnnyways….one of the cool features WordPress offers is a list of all the search terms people have used to get to your site. You know, if they entered a search term in Google, TWSST came up as a result and they ultimately came to my blog because of it. Let’s just say there were some interesting search terms in there…

20 people stumbled upon TWSST by searching for “ugly boob”

3 people because of “scary things”

2 while looking for “insane deer mounts”  (and even stranger, two lines above that, 2 people for “borrowing a kid.”  Why are people searching that term on the internet in the first place?!)

Finally, and my personal favorite, one lucky visitor found me by searching for “light ugly with three nipples.” 

 

I mean…what?! I guess maybe I can understand ONE person getting here searching for ugly boobs…but TWENTY? Did I miss the memo about surfing the web for ugly boobs?? What in the world. Hahaha. I had a nice chuckle out of it. Hope you do too. (psssst….they probably landed on this post…)

Like every other facebook friend of mine, we went to a pumpkin patch this year. However, unlike anyone else, MY patch at a pumpkin pillow.

Pumpkin pillow? What is that you ask?

Observe:

SO much fun.  I basically spent 20 minutes laughing like a school girl with my sisters.

And then there was this….

Oh, yeah Abby had fun at the patch too. Hahaha. 

Speaking of pumpkins – we had a great first Halloween with Abs. She wanted to be Dorothy this year, so I obliged (what? I’m sure she mentioned it).

Here she is, thrilled with the homemade costume (as most kids are with homemade costumes I assume).

I got sick and wasn’t able to finish her outfit the way I had envisioned, but you get the idea. The ruby red slippers are too cute. I’m going to have to keep those for sure!  

I’ve actually been working on a few projects around the house (re-arranging, crafting, nursery updates, a painting project or two, and even some building projects)….so you know what that means? Blogging material! Nothing too big and exciting, but something nonetheless.  I’ve been going through some serious project withdrawal! Hopefully I’ll get to share some of that soon.

(This is how I keep you coming back, with the promise of non-baby-related posts that may or may not ever come to fruition. Tricky, eh?)

The biggest thing happening in my life right now is that I’m back at work part-time. What what? Yep, Yep. It all happened really fast, and it’s probably the most boring topic so I’ll give you the short story.

Boss asks me to come back to work part-time. I’m not sure. He says it’s temporary. I’m not sure. He says I can set my own hours. I’m curious.

Basically, I decided it was a good way for me to test the waters (with something I’m already comfortable doing) and see what working feels like. Because, if I’m honest, I’ve kind of been missing that part of me. You know, the part that utilizes my education and makes me feel smart, useful and challenged. So…I decided to give it a go. If I hate it, it’s over in 3 months. If I like it….well then I know a little bit more than I did before about what some of my own needs might be.

Abby is doing daycare for 2.5 days a week (I only work Tuesday/Wednesday and ½ day Thursday) and she is loooooving it. So much that I worry I’m not stimulating her enough anymore on the other days of the week. Ha.

As for me? I’m not sure how I feel about the whole thing yet. I like my old job.  But I don’t love it. 

I told myself it’s too early to make any judgments about it. It’s only been two weeks and right now I kinda just miss being with Abbers during the day.  Le Sigh.  It seems as though I’m never pleased, eh?  Stay at home, go to work, some of each. Ugh. It’s exhausting trying to figure it all out! But I’m not giving up!   Awhile ago I printed out this quote from Steve Jobs and put it by my craft desk.  I keep reading it and try to remain hopeful that someday I’ll find something I’m truly, truly passionate about.

Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle. As with all matters of the heart, you’ll know when you find it.

(and that’s the short story you say?!?!)  Yes, yes it is.  Sorry.

Turns out being a hunting widow with a baby is toooooootally different than being just a lonely ‘ol hunting widow. AKA, it’s MUCH MUCH harder now to have the Hubs gone every weekend and I’m MUCH MUCH happier when he returns!

Only two more weeks. 

Two more weeks.

Two more weeks.

I feel like there is so much more to say.  But I can’t take up all my blogging material in one post, right? 

I think part of my problem is that I’m a perfectionist.  I think all of my posts need to be of a certain quality, a certain length and reviewed time and time again before they’re posted.   And while I certainly don’t want to be posting garbage, I think I could alleviate some pressure if I realized not every post has to be a project or a novel.  It can just be a check-in, a story, a thought. 

So I’m going to work on that.  As long as Abby keeps working on her naps (when I wrote this she was in the middle of a 1.5 hour snooze!)

I miss you blog and blog friends.  I hope to be back soon.  Real soon.