In honor of my bi-annual move (can we never stay in one place?) , I spent some time today going through all of my old photo albums as I packed them up to take with me in the car. I do this everytime I move and it is something I really look forward too, a self-indulgent trip down memory lane. This time was different though and I don't know why. Maybe something to do with my post-partum mind, not sure.

I realized in looking back over 15 years of photos, dating back to my junior prom, that I have had a good life. A great life. Filled with friends, good times, lots of laughs, travels, some great loves, some sad times too to keep it all in balance, but overall the memories were good. A lot of which I didn't realize at the time I was living it. I was looking at myself in those pictures and I wanted to reach back in time and shake myself and ask myself, "what is wrong with you girl?" I looked good, thin even. My hair looked fantastic. I was dressed OK for the early '90s. But I know that when I was that girl, when I was living those moments, I always felt frumpy, that my hair just wasn't right, my clothes weren't right. I wasn't right. A bikini shot from spring break in Venezuela was especially telling, I am all slumped over - trying somehow to hide what is already exposed.

Ironically, I look so much better then than I do now. But I am so much more comfortable in my self these days - yes there are times I still feel like I wore the wrong thing, my hair was wrong, etc. - but overall I am me. I like the skin I am in. And I think that shows through the 25 extra pounds, the short air dried hair, the ever-present yoga pants. Looks aren't everything, attitude or more precisely love of self is.

I love Lance Armstrong.   Not in a sexual way or a fantasy way, not even in an avid fan type of way.  Just everytime I hear about another of his wins on the news it gives me the warm fuzzies.  He rocks.  He gives me hope that even when life throws you a huge curve ball, you can survive, and not only survive but return to kick more ass than ever before. 

Love him.

Two years worth of pocket change = $230

Not bad, not bad at all.

Somewhat related to my post about leaving kids in the car unattended, M and I had a screaming, tearful, knock out fight in the parking lot of a rest stop on the turnpike today.  It was oh so lovely. 

I am a bit of a worrier, a bit of a hypochondriac, and I tend to see danger lurking in every corner.  I am also a post-partum hormonal mess. Here was our issue - would you leave the keys in the ignition with the car running, get out of the car and walk around to the passenger side to get a baby out of the carseat? (The baby would be coming back to the front seat with you to be nursed)  M has no problem with this.  I, however, saw two problems in that someone could easily carjack the car and the kids in that time and the possibility of locking the kids in the car exists as well.  Both are extremely small chances but a chance nonetheless.  I don't see what the big deal is to take the key out, turn the car off and get out and get the child.  One teeny extra step.  Even if he doesn't agree and thinks I am completely irrational, all I wanted was for him to acknowledge and respect that those were my feelings and to just humor me.  But no.  It got ugly.

And yes, I probably shouldn't be nursing the baby in the front of the car since there are airbags.  I guess I'm a safety hypocrite. 

I'm anal, I know.  But I feel so strongly about this.  When someone scrapes butter from the top of my butter stick, I have to sit on my hands to stop from reaching out and grabbing their wrist.   It is just so wrong - take it from the end people! 

So what do you do - top or end?

I couldn't sleep last night, too much thinking about the past.  My mind just wouldn't shut down. 
 
I just booked a sleeper car for my family on the auto train, which will take us from Virginia to Florida.  And it made me think about the last time I was in a sleeper car on a train and it floored me that it had been 10 years.  10 years since I was backpacking through Europe, traveling in the dark, through the night on a sleeper car from Munich to Prague - the one filled with long conversations and stolen kisses in the dark.   Or the one from Nice to Paris - the one where our train came to a screeching halt to avoid hitting a cow on the track, throwing all of us from our bunks onto the floor.   10 countries, at least twice as many train trips, all of them playing in my mind like movies last night.  All of the memories sharp and clear, some funny, some sad, some bittersweet, but most of all happy and carefree.
 
I lay there remembering all those travels, that wild and crazy summer filled with friends, food, art, even a romance.  How different I am from that 21 year old girl, I feel eons older and wiser - wisdom that came at a price of course.  And I wondered how 10 years had passed without my returning to Europe.  I fell in love there, with so many places and sights.  So I have vowed I will return, somehow in the next 5 years. 
 
But for now I have a new adventure in front of me - I'm moving.  I'm taking a train down the southeastern coast of the United States with my family, my husband and our two little boys.  Maybe not the same sort of adventure I had on the trains 10 years ago, but an adventure nonetheless. 

One perk about being a SAHM i that you can wear your pajamas all day and no one cares.  Usually I am a big fan of getting dressed, but some days the time just slips away and all of a sudden you realize, "hmm, it's 5 o'clock and I am still in my pajamas."  Oh well, it was a productive house day and very rainy so I wasn't going anywhere anyway.  But now the sun is out, we're meeting friends for yummy BBQ and they'd probably appreciate it if I got dressed so I'd better run!

To most of the readers of this blog, this topic has been discussed endlessly on online forums.  Children left in cars.  I just don't understand how parents can do this.  Yes, it is a major PITA to have to get the kids in and out of the carseat each time you go on an errand, and yes most of the time it is an even bigger PITA to deal with them in the actual store.  But they are your kids, it is your job to keep them safe.  Leaving them unattended in a car is not keeping them safe, even if you lock the doors!  Locks can be picked.  Cars get hit in parking lots.  And it is July.  At least crack the windows people!
 
We had to go to the post office yesterday because for some unknown reason the post man decided to stop delivering our mail.  (That is a whole other issue)  M ran inside to deal with it while I sat in the car.  I noticed a car pull up next to us and the woman get out and I heard her alarm beep as she locked the door.  Nothing odd there, until I glance over at the car a minute or so later and see four eyes peering back at me.  Two kids about 4 and 6 just sitting in the back seat.  Alone.  Ok, I live in BFE, in an extremely safe community.  The odds of these kids being abducted while their mom was in the Post Office are probably very low, but still.  And the windows were cracked just the tiniest sliver.   I sat there fuming and thinking of things to say to the woman when she came out.  6 minutes later when she did come out, did I say anything?  No.  Why?  I chickened out.  And now I am pissed at myself.  Why didn't I have the balls to confront her? 
 
And then we see this story on CNN this morning.  M's comment - "we need to be careful in FL, there seem to be a lot of freaks there."  And that may just be the understatement of the year.  Look out FL, here we come.

My blog is slacking lately. It's not that I don't have much to say, it's just I seem to lack time to write these days, or more importantly 2 hands to type as I am usually holding or nursing Baby O while I'm on the computer.

And sometimes I just plain old forget what I was going to say. As I go about my somewhat mundane, but often humorous life, I think to myself "oooh, must blog about this" and I compose it in my head. And then I never seem to sit down at the computer, or am too tired, blah blah, excuse, excuse. Like right now. I am too pooped to write anymore, or at least anything worth writing.

Hopefully I will return more inspired and energized tomorrow. Or in another life.

BTW, I am laughing that the spell check on Blogger doesn't recognize the word Blog.

I took 294 photos in the month of June. Yes, my kids are adorable, but still, that is ridiculous.

It seems impossible that my little baby O is 7 weeks old. He's lost that newborn look. His face is filling out, nice and round and chubby, multiple chins are in the works. He's got serious rolls on his legs, no more chicken legs for this guy. He smiles. He has a big old (but silent) belly laugh. He is on the verge of gurgling and cooing. He wears size 2 diapers and 3-6 month clothing. He is comfortable in an outfit A wore when he was 4 months old, and A was no small baby himself. I look at him and I just ache with love and wonder. I want him to stay small and snuggly, yet I want him to grow and watch him develop into himself. I want to get to know him, see who he is going to become. I may be biased, but I think he is a special old soul with much to say and do.

Some excerpts from my life lately:

A: What does Owen mean? (he needs to know the meaning of all words right now)
Me: Owen is a name, he's your brother.
A: No, it means 'he cries'
Me: Sigh

Me: [burping Owen vigorously]
A: Don't hit him mama!

A: Mama, my poopy is stuck to my butt. It really sticky and stinky. And blue.
Me: [not sure whether to laugh or cry] Really A? Go tell your dada!

When I am having a super crazy day and I want to hurl myslef out a window because both of my children are being needy and clingy and the dishes are piled high in the sink and I can't even see my carpet for all the crap on the floor, I wonder how in THEE hell did people manage to get anything done before the invention of very useful childcare items like the TV, bouncer seat or swing.

And now I know. They lived with or nearby their extended family. I am home for the long fourth of July weekend and under one roof we have four generations. My mother's parents, my parents, my brother, M and me and our two boys. I have not had so much free time since O was born. There are always arms willing to rock O, bounce him, walk with him, even burp or change him. Their are willing grandfathers and an uncle to play trucks and baseball endlessly with A. M is happily reading a book, and I am catching up on some email and blogging. This is bliss.

I am sure it wouldn't last forever, in a few days I am sure everyone will have gotten on everyone elses nerves and we will all be itching to leave, but for now I am relishing this unexpected reprieve from the normal chaos of my days.

It's been a bit bittersweet though, as our move to FL approaches I am getting so sad that I will be SO far from my family. I don't think I'll think about that right now...that is a blog for another day.