Remember this post?
Here’s that door today:
Still there.
February 26, 2013
February 24, 2013
Big News Update!!!
So, the cover is set for the book and the publication date has been pushed up to mid-March!
This is so very, very exciting!
Here is the cover:
Check out the awesome blogs on the back cover! I still can’t believe that I’m associated with them. They are so very talented!
The person who pulled us all together is Jen from “People I Want to Punch in the Throat.”
Jen and I went to junior high together and then she moved away.
We reconnected through Facebook and I’ve been thrilled to watch as her blog went viral, last year, with her post about Overachieving Moms and the Elf on the Shelf.
She wrote a book and had it published in time for the holidays this year.
Then, she came up with the idea for this anthology.
And here we are!
On another note, in the next few days, we’ll be switching to our new domain: amysreallife.com It’s not up and running as of today, but it’s scheduled to go live on February 25th, if everything goes as scheduled. I will not have a post on Monday in order to facilitate the switch, but I’ll be back on Tuesday and we should be set!
So, exciting times around here…good things to come!
February 23, 2013
Celebrating 12!
And so we come to the last, which was really the very first, of the birthdays we celebrate in February.
Today, my Monkey Girl turns 12.
I really don’t know how this is possible.
How the sweet little girl with the lisp who sucked her thumb and picked her nose during pre-school concerts turned into the beautiful, confident, amazing girl I see before me.
There is no one quite like my Monkey Girl.
She is sweet. She is kind. She is brilliant. She is funny. She is creative. She is sensitive. She is strong.
She is my role model.
I love her beyond words and we share a connection that is indescribable.
My girl.
My heart.
Happy 12th Birthday to my precious Monkey Girl. I am so very proud of who you have been, who you have become and who I know you will be.
February 22, 2013
Five Question Friday
1. What is a hobby you would love to learn and why?
I would love to learn to play the cello.
I’ve thought about it so many times over the years.
Such a soulful instrument. My favorite of the strings.
I would love to be able to play and play and play.
Maybe…I’m still young.
2. What do you wish you could have delivered to your house but does not deliver?
Really?
Is there still something that they won’t deliver?
I don’t think so.
I mean, I can’t call up and have someone bring me a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup right now, but I can have my groceries delivered and I can put them on the list.
Oh, I see. I don’t want to wait until I’ve made my list.
So, I guess that would be it.
Chocolate on demand.
3. What’s your favorite snow day activity? Inside and out?
Let’s just get the “out” out of the way right now.
There’s nothing I like to do outside in the snow.
If I could have outside snow fun without being cold and wet, I’d love to go sledding.
I love speed. Love it.
However, I hate being cold and wet, so that’s the end of that.
Inside?
I love snuggling under a blanket and reading with a hot cup of tea on a snowy day.
Monkey Girl usually gets a book, I get a book, we cover up and lay on the couch together and just read.
The boys wind up playing something next to the couch and it’s all good.
4. Would you meet a stranger from an Internet dating site?
If I wasn’t married, I’m not sure I’d even try an Internet dating site.
People lie enough straight to your face…they can lie that much more online.
That being said, I have quite a few friends who have met their spouses online and they are all very, very happy.
I’m not sure it’s for me.
But that’s not to say that it doesn’t work.
5. If you had to spend 35 hours in a car with 4 other people, who would you choose?
I’d choose 5 and they all live here.
If you mean outside the family, I’d choose Kim, Erin and Michaela.
If you are going to hold me to 4 to be true to the question, I guess we’d leave Tiny with my parents.
Not because I like him any less, but because I think the car would get old for him way earlier than 35 hours.
February 21, 2013
Truths
1. When left to their own devices, the amount of dirty outfits is always higher than the pairs of dirty underwear in my boys closet.
2. For the past three months, Baby Monkey has been trying to convince me that he doesn’t sleep at all during the night. When I tell him that I go check on him and kiss him in the middle of the night and he is fast asleep, he tells me that he’s faking. I am quite tempted to carry him to another part of the house while he is sleeping just so that I can hear the story he makes up about how he got there.
3. Today, Baby Monkey started singing “Here Comes the Maid…Here Comes the Maid.” We watched our wedding video with the kids last night. Coincidence?
4. I may be the only viewer of Downton Abbey who wasn’t upset when Matthew Crawley was killed off on Sunday night. Oh…sorry…spoiler alert. From the second the actor announced he was leaving, I was annoyed and was ready for his character to meet a fiery death. So, although I didn’t get the fire, he wound up with a car on top of him and that was fine with me.
Because, see, I like the way the Brits work. They aren’t so cowed by celebrity that they’ll write a ridiculous storyline to ensure that an actor can come back if he/she changes his mind. Like, remember on Days of Our Lives when they put Dr. Drake Ramore in a coma so that… wait, hang on…
The Brits, they say “You’re quitting our show because you think you can do better elsewhere? Fine, have at it. But, we’re killing you off so you can’t fall back on us when your ‘big break’ doesn’t pan out.”
I respect that.
5. My Mom is reading this right now and she wants to comment that the reason I love the Brits is because I am part British. However, let me be clear. If #4 was about how I like the Germans, she’d say it was because I was part German. And if it was about how I like the Swahili, she’d say it was because I’m part Swahili, because, according to my Mother, I’m a little bit of everything. Oh, and I’m related to everyone, as well. The Roosevelt’s, the Queen of England, perhaps even Sacajawea. Okay, I made the last one up, but she does say that I get my cheekbones from the native American side of the family.
Yep.
6. I realize I am not fooling anyone with the demure-sized servings I give myself at dinner every night. We all know I’m finishing up whatever is left on everyone else’s plates when I clear the table.
7. Part of the reason I want to be cremated when I die is because I know I won’t be happy with my hair (or my outfit) and eternity is a mighty long time for a bad hair day.
8. If it was socially acceptable for me to go to bed at 7:00 pm, I totally would.
9. I haven’t gotten my car washed in over a year because I just don’t have the energy to clean it out first.
10. My kids feet stink. Like, seriously, stinky funky stank. They are cute feet. But they stink.
February 20, 2013
Celebrating 2!
I didn’t actually think I was pregnant when I took that test in June 2010.
I didn’t feel well and hadn’t for a few days and so I was just ruling it out.
I honestly didn’t think I was pregnant.
A few months earlier, my doctor had come around her desk, sat on the edge and told me in a sad voice that I would never be able to have any more children due to some medical issues I was having.
We certainly weren’t planning on having any more kids, as Baby Monkey was a surprise, himself, and three seemed to be all we could handle.
I was sad, though, because that’s a decision that I wanted us to make.
I don’t like having decisions made for me.
However, the three babies we had were amazing babies, and so we were fine with it.
Except, I always had that nagging feeling that we weren’t quite complete, but I accepted what was.
Then, I took that test.
I walked it into the office where Real Man was on the computer and showed him.
He stared at me, I stared at him.
I walked back out of the room and we didn’t talk about it again for two days.
Four kids.
Four kids.
I’m a working mother, and I was doing okay balancing work and home with three kids, but four sounded impossible.
The three we had were fantastic. Were we tempting fate with a fourth?
I was going to be 40 in a year.
Four kids.
I was scared and nervous, but I was happy and over those two days the happy outgrew the nervousness, and Real Man and I were over the moon.
The pregnancy was scary.
I tested borderline positive for Down Syndrome, and we decided we didn’t care. This was our baby.
Late in my pregnancy, I was diagnosed with placenta accretia and there were conversations that included words like “make plans,” “save the child,” “get your will in order.”
Even while we were waiting for me to be wheeled into the ER, the doctor and the anesthesiologist were arguing over the best way to proceed and they explained to Real Man what would happen based on what they would find when they went in, and they said things like, “…at that time, we will escort you from the room and will make every effort we can to save your wife.”
But, then it was over and he was here and He. Is. Amazing.
And I’d do every single second of it all over again.
He is a character.
He is a ham.
He is a love.
He is, and always will be, my baby.
Happy Birthday, Tiny! The past two years with you have been absolutely unbelievable. The world is definitely a better place with you in it.
February 19, 2013
Her Turn
I told her that as soon as she got it down, I’d post it.
Not only did she get it down, she also learned the second verse.
So, here’s Monkey Girl and the cup song from “Pitch Perfect,” which I still won’t let her watch.
That’sa my girl.
February 18, 2013
Maybe…
So, Monkey Girl got a text from a friend inviting her to spend the night.
She was in church when the text came, so she didn’t get it until she got home.
She texted back a request for a little more information, like times, etc. but her friend didn’t text back for awhile.
Monkey Girl is a child of the information and instant gratification age, so she immediately decided that her friend must have already invited someone else.
I immediately told her to be patient, but, of course, that didn’t make her feel better.
So, I started with the stories.
Erin, Kim and Michaela can tell you, my history with making up nonsensical stories to explain things goes way back.
Monkey Girl: I think she invited someone else and doesn’t know how to tell me.
Me: Maybe, she’s in church now and her ring tone is a Justin Bieber song and she didn’t have her phone on vibrate and in the middle of church, you texted her back and suddenly “Swag, swag, swag on you, chillin’ by the fire while we eatin’ fondue,” went ringing out through the church and so her parents confiscated her phone for a week.
Monkey Girl: Or, maybe she invited someone else and she doesn’t know how to tell me.
Me: Maybe, just maybe, when you texted her back, she was taking her dog for a walk, and her ringtone is the sound of a small mouse and it went off just as a hawk was circling overhead and the hawk heard it, swooped down and snatched it right out of her hand.
Monkey Girl: Or, maybe she invited someone else and she doesn’t know how to tell me.
Me: Maybe she got your text and went to ask her Mom for some more details, but her Mom is in the shower and in HER house, no one bothers the Mom when she’s in the shower.
(That one got a big laugh out of Real Man)
Monkey Girl: Or, maybe she invited someone else and she doesn’t know how to tell me.
Me: Maybe, she had a problem with biting her nails and she underwent hypnosis to stop and her ringtone is the trigger to undo the hypnosis, and when you texted, the ringtone went off, undid the hypnosis and she went on a nail biting frenzy and actually chewed her fingers off so she can’t text you back.
Monkey Girl: You can imagine her response.
Me: Maybe, she was in the car when you texted her back and her ringtone is a digital signal sound, and as your text came in, the digital sound went off, but she happened to be driving by a nuclear power plant and the digital sound deactivated their computerized safety controls and the plant went into nuclear meltdown and they were stopped by military police and her phone was confiscated.
Monkey Girl: Maybe.
February 17, 2013
Maybe It’s Not So Bad
So, regular readers know that I’ve been alternately coming to terms with and completely devastated by the fact that my kids are getting older and I’m not having any more babies.
Some days are better than others, and I’m not always weeping into my decaf tea over the idea.
This post by You’re My Favorite Today has helped me tremendously, because it reminds me that, while there is much to miss, there is also much to which I can look forward.
Enjoy, and if you have older kids, feel free to leave me some other reasons why older kids are better than younger kids in the comments here on my page!
February 16, 2013
The One in Which I Look Like a Terrible Mother but am Really Teaching My Children Not to Overreact
So, the other night, we took the kids to Friendly’s for dinner to celebrate Monkey Girl’s stellar report card.
It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I was exhausted and just didn’t want to cook.
Baby Monkey decided he didn’t feel well and didn’t want dessert (which is how I knew he meant it) so, since Real Man had met us there after work with his Jeep, I took Baby and Tiny home while RM stayed with the two big kids and stuffed them silly with ice cream.
As Baby and I were walking out into the parking lot, he missed the step off of the curb and fell flat on his face on the gravel.
I stopped, turned and said, “You okay?”
He lay there for a second and said, “I think I might be broken.”
I said, “If you were broken, you wouldn’t have to wonder. I think you’re okay buddy. Let’s get up and keep going.”
He stood up, brushed himself off, took my hand and kept walking.
All of this was witnessed by a family of five who were also leaving the restaurant at the same time.
The mother of this tribe looked at me as if I was the worst mother in the world.
She was honestly shooting daggers out of her eyes at me for not dropping Tiny, racing to Baby’s side and cooing to him.
I just looked at her and smiled.
And, as I did, her daughter, who was trying to climb into their van missed a step and fell on her knees.
Softly. Gracefully. Quietly.
The mother screamed “Oh my goodness! Hannah! Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself? Oh, honey, come here! Hannah fell!”
As she yelled, she kept looking at me, as if to say “This is how you take care of a child, lady.”
Hannah was quiet for a second or two and then scrunched up her face and began to yell.
The kid was not hurt.
I promise you.
Yet, because her Mom made a major case out of it, Hannah made a major case out of it.
Trust me, when my kids are actually hurt, I’m the first one to cuddle, soothe, kiss away the boo-boo.
But kids fall and trip and slip and slide and 9 times out of 10…they are just fine.
So, teaching them the difference between a real emergency and a non-emergency is something that I’ve always thought was important.
If everything is treated like a big deal, how do you ever really know when something happens that IS a big deal?
So, as Hannah is wailing and her parents are both, now, trying to clip her into her car seat, Mom and I met eyes once again.
It took everything I had not to glance down at my non-crying child who fell WAY harder than her child did and then glance at her with the look, but I don’t play that way, so imagine my surprise when I realized she was giving ME the look.
I guess she does play that way.
The nerve.
Then I figured, she can give me the look all she wants. Her hysterics mean that she’s gotta drive home with a screaming kid in the back seat. My calm means I got to drive home with a delightful boy who asked a million questions about nothing at all.
I win.
Not that it’s a competition or anything.
