Ooooooh...

Okay I am too old for this. For an idea of what I did last night, see the post below. It was my friend Alisa's birthday and we ate at Poncho Villa's and, after a brief stop a friend's place, danced the night away.
Okay they probably danced the night away. I begged off at a pathetic 1am. It was a great night with wonderful friends, but you know what? I'm sad to say that I think I'm too old for this. Maybe that's not true, though. I hope not because wow, I'm having fun. I'd done a group reading with friends the night before, and I think the two nights in a row thing is what I'm actually too old for. And having to get up early with three excited boys afterwards adds to it. My body hurts, my eyes are swollen, and my feet...oooooh, my feet. Interestingly, though, that spot in my back that's been hurting since the last time I went out dancing seems to have been cured last night by the very thing that caused it in the first place...
It's been a lovely weekend so far. We took the kids to the mall yesterday and ate at the food court. Though it's not ideal ambiance-wise, everybody gets what they want and Liam's screaming is barely noticed above the din. We also visited my sister and her family, and I got to change my new niece's poopy diaper twice! The joy! Um, for those of you with girl babies - my admiration for you is huge. Not having been blessed with babies of the female variety, I was surprised at the intricacies of changing my niece. Without going into detail, I'll just say this: it's harder.
Liam, incidentally, is loving walking. He's been more cheerful ever since he mastered that typical toddler walk - hands held tentatively up, arms at 90 degree angles, halting steps occasionally degenerating to a shambling sideways quickstep. It's entertaining to watch, and a relief, too, as his frustration seems to have been replaced by joy (and tempered by a rather destructive sort of curiosity, I might add).
I'm amazed that, even though Liam's my third child, I am still struck with that odd and somehow unexpected shock of clashing emotions as I watch him grow from a baby to a toddler. I'm proud. I'm exuberant. I'm so, so sad. In all likelihood, Liam is my last baby. Oh, that feels so final! But most likely true...and it sort of tears at my heart to watch him stop being my baby. I think I'll never forget the last time he breastfed...for it'll also be the last time I ever breastfeed. And his firsts are also lasts, somehow. First steps were witnessed with a sort of bittersweet joy...never again will I see a baby of mine take his first steps.
There's that tiny little voice inside of me, though, that pushes back when I have these thoughts. That voice that has always been there, telling me I can have more kids! I am still young (though my feet will tell you differently today)! Still fertile! Capable!
But that voice is quiet now. Where she was a vivacious cheerleader in my younger baby-making days, she is now sitting at the back of the crowd, half-heartedly waving a big foam finger that says, "Your ovaries rock - still!" on it while eating a hot dog.
So perhaps she'll slowly lapse into silence. She'll realize the game is over and make her way back home.
Well hasn't this just been an incomprehensible jumble of thoughts.
I shall leave you with a little revelation that I had last night. As I've mentioned before, I'm going through a bit of a hard time, personally. I don't think I've ever sustained such a high level of stress for such a long period of time. But isn't it incredible that, even now - especially now - I can look around myself and find myself so blessed? I have wonderful friends, a good job, three amazing kids, and I'm happier with myself than I've ever been. I'm so thankful for all of this.
Maybe, someday, I can stop wanting more...

Night Out

So, as part of my week away, I went out with my dear friends from work.

It had been over 7 years since I went dancing, and believe me, my back is reminding me of that. We danced for hours Thursday night, and I've been feeing it in the most painful way ever since. People, I am OLD. But WOW, I had sooooo much fun.
Things have changed since my dancing days. The blatantly obvious ogling on the part of the men, though flattering, was surprising to me. So I focused on my girls (I lurve you Lisa, Rachel, Laura and Malaika!) and just danced, danced, danced.Me, Laura and Malaika.
Sometimes you gots to look angry when you dance. Adds a bit of panache, hmmm? Oh, did I mention that I got ID'd on the way in? YES, I DID! And I didn't have my ID. So I told the guy I am 31 and have three kids. The disbelieving look on his face melted away when I showed him my stretch marks. He let me in. See? Stretch marks ARE useful!

Having way too much fun.

Malaika was the queen of looking really cool and sophisticated when she danced. She demanded I try the look, and this is my attempt. Can't you just see the goofy grin simmering under there?

It was a great time. There was a bit of drunken-ness mixed in there, some flagrant shirt-ripping happening (I will not reveal the name of the shirt -ripper because I'm loyal like that), and a LOT of dancing. It was 90's night, too!

Fun.

When I fully recover, I may think about doing it again...

Introducing...

Kira Tree, my new niece, born Thursday at 10am. I want to steal her and put her in pink dresses, but my sister swears she'll share her, so it probaby won't be necessary.
More about my week away later...

WELL!

Guess what? I'm going to stay with my friend, Jodi, for a week.
Yes, I am!
And guess what else? My kids are staying HERE! With Jim!
Is it wrong to be very, very excited over this?
Jodi's boyfriend is camping for a week and I'm going to keep her company...and I must admit, to take a break. I needs a break, peeps. But I'm going to miss my boys so much. I can see myself sneaking home for little visits.
But I will also be going out with friends, and relaxing, and watching bad movies, and DANCING! It's been years since I've gone out dancing, and I'm excited. I'm a little afraid, though, that this cold I have (complete with body aches and sore throat and all-the-time tiredness) is going to hurt my plans.
Anyway, that's where I'll be. I can still check my email, though, so feel free to write.
WOO!
(I am acting very excited but feeling very guilty. I figure that if I keep acting excited, I will eventually convince my brain not to feel guilty. And to be excited instead. Yes.)
Jim's out playing poker with the boys tonight to try and get some fun in before he's on full-time Daddy duty.

Oh! My tattoo is featured on the Brian Froud site, which is sorta neato.
Back to the weekend...

Taking Pictures

I don't know where it's gone. My desire to write, I mean.
It's gone.
It's not at work. I know that. And it's not here at home, either. Maybe it's just hiding away. Before, when I would go through rough patches in my life, I would always write. I would write horrid, dark poems when I was a teenager, full of angst and woe. And as I grew older, I kept various journals in which I'd rant or moan or lament.
This time, I'm quiet.
Maybe when things get better, I'll want to write again.
I feel for those of you who've stuck it out and who still visit me here (incidentally, thank you! and, erm, sorry for the boring-ness!).
So, I shall ply you with pictures. Pretty pictures of my pretty children! Look at the pretty children!
Caleb! SMILE!
Okay! Okay, but this time! Smile! Like, with your mouth and stuff! Yeah!

Ah! Better! Now you, Aidan! Smile!

Well! Well, that was interesting! But how about this time smile AND look at ME instead of the TV? Yeah? Okay!

WHEE! Now Liam! Okay well I'm going to cheat with this one because the kid was hungry and also grumpy and he wouldn't stop alternately trying to eat the camara and shoving his little baby fingers far into the cavernous innards of my nostrils. So I have included here, for you to see, and picture of the back of my boy's head. Because look! Look at the delicious golden hair! The shimmery curly-ness of it all! Oh, rapture!

Pretty!

And now, for a picture of me doing something called, "Facilitation of Rapid Swelling of the Tips of the Fingers of the Left Hand." This is exacerbated by the fact that I haven't touched the guitar in years. Oh, the pain. But Liam loved it he stood in front of me, his hands on my knees, and bounced to the music...so, it was very much worth it.

My Son