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I'm feeling somewhat restless - um, scratch "somewhat" , let's try that again. I'm feeling very restless. The main source of my restlessness is work. It's been almost one year since I've returned to work from maternity leave and I cannot even begin to surmise the amount of change that I've encountered - significant personnel changes, structural changes, a new business model, new responsibilities, a new department, new bosses and the list goes on. And yes, this is the same company that I've been at for 10 years. Without question, it's been one of the most stressful times in my work life. I've said goodbye to many close colleagues, but have happily watched them succeed in new arenas. Then I wonder, when is it my turn to make a change? What else is out there for me? But most importantly, am I ready to make a change? These are questions that have been swirling around in my head for the last couple of months and if you ask me five different times, you'll get five different answers. So, how do you know when it's time to make a change? With two little ones, I have much more to consider than I did 10 years ago when they weren't even a twinkle in my eye. It's no longer just about the job - it's about work/life balance, flexibility and overall, how will my decision affect my family. I think I'll know when it's time. Until then, I'll take my restlessness and try to make the most of it.

I've been watching the Olympics off and on since they started over 10 days ago. I've seen a little of everything including swimming, diving, gymnastics, track and field and volleyball. Every single athlete looks so, well, athletic. Healthy, toned, muscular and fit. By being in such great shape, it allows them to wear the appropriate technical gear to perform at the top of their game. For some that includes the dreaded spandex. But they look fantastic!  Even in slow motion they look fantastic. Not one single ripple, jiggle or shake.

As I've been watching the athletes perform and have been impressed by their physique, I actually laughed out loud (yes, I really did)  as to what I would look like wearing spandex, leotards or bikinis that the beach volleyball players wear.  Let's just say the ratings might go down...or perhaps they might go up. Did you see her?! I would be rippling, jiggling and shaking all over the screen. I'm actually in fairly decent shape, but fairly decent shape does not afford me the luxury of wearing spandex...nor would I want to!

Perhaps if there was a mom Olympics somewhere. (I heard the term mom Olympics from another mom blogger) I'd fit right in wearing my Nike sweat pants, stained t-shirt and flip flops. Nonetheless, the mere thought of it made me laugh...in fact I laughed all the way to the freezer and enjoyed my favorite ice cream with my son.  

Yes, it's true. I have an Olympic size crush on Mr. Michael Phelps. Not in a slimy, "how you doing" kinda way. But more because I think he's grounded, humble, gracious and charming. And I (ahem) barely noticed his abs. But what I think is really endearing about Michael Phelps is how he treats his mom. After the ceremony for winning his 8th gold medal, he created a path in a sea of photographers, climbed through the bleachers to get to his mom for a pat on the head and a kiss on the cheek. How proud she must be.

It's also been fun watching Michael Phelps compete accompanied by the commentary from my four year old.   A sample of one of our conversations....

Jake: Why is his mom there?

Me: Because she wants to support him.

Jake: Who dropped him off?

Me: I'm not quite sure.

Jake: How did he get there?

Me: Someone probably drove him.

Jake: (very sheepishly) Maybe we swam there....

He's also developing a sense of humor.

So I'll continue to admire Michael Phelps from afar and look forward to the day when Jake wins his medal, award or certificate and clears a path to get to me for a pat on the head and kiss on the cheek.

To some extent, I am a creature of habit.  I always fall asleep on my left side, I have one diet coke per day, I take the same route to work and I order the exact same sandwich from Subway almost every time I eat there; 6" turkey on wheat, American cheese, light mustard, lettuce, bell peppers, pickles, spinach and a little salt and pepper. Boring? Maybe. Or perhaps I'm decisive and know what I want.

Nonetheless, I've decided to change things up a bit and challenge myself. Challenge myself to step out of my comfort  zone and try new things. Different things. Things that I wouldn't normally do. 

So here's my progress a few weeks into my "self challenge".

I have added a few sleeveless shirts into my wardrobe. I have always been self conscious of my upper arms because they are not exactly the arms that would appear in Shape magazine. (well, maybe the before picture) I figured lifting a 20 pound baby would help, but it's those darn triceps! Curses! I guess tricep kick backs are in order. Nonetheless, I am wearing more sleeveless tops, (still self conscious), but wearing them.

Today, I got Swiss cheese on my Subway sandwich instead of American. I know, pretty thrilling. Baby steps, right?

But the most "unlike' me thing that I've done recently is that I went to see a movie by myself. Not earth shattering for those of you that have been doing this for years (like my mom) but I just never have done it. Hubby was gone for the weekend playing in a softball tournament and my in-laws offered to watch my wee ones. I didn't want to waste my precious hours of freedom at the grocery store, so I thought a movie was in order.  Yes, I chose The Hulk. Because of the special effects and well, how big he is, I thought it would be better on the big screen as opposed to waiting for it to be released on DVD... like I would normally do.

I got to the theater just in time to get settled into my seat and realize it was more crowded than I thought it was going to be. At least no one sat next to me. I made it through the previews and five minutes into the movie when all of a sudden, my perfect movie moment was squelched when she sat next to me. She kicked my foot when she sat down and her long, curly hair kept hitting my arm. eww. I thought about moving over one seat, but I was worried that I would insult this nameless stranger that I would probably never see again. Oh well. I readjusted and it worked out. However, I do want to go to another movie by myself, but in a bigger theater with less people and more space.  

My next big challenge is to plan an overnight trip to San Francisco with just hubby, no kids. We've never been away for an overnight excursion, so this will be a first for us. I'm looking forward to it, but I know I'll be a little anxious. 

So, I'll continue to try to change my routine here and there and try new things. Before I know it, I'll be ordering ham sandwiches on sourdough and sleeping on my right side...well, let's not go too far.

My brother and his wife have a wonderful six year old son. They are great parents and are providing him with a loving, nurturing and supportive home. For whatever reason, however, even with the help of fertility drugs, they were unable to conceive for a second time.  After much consideration, they decided to adopt. They went through the interview process, paperwork, classes, screenings and other necessary steps.  Once approved, they were put on a waiting list. They had been on the list for over 18 months until the silence was broken. On a recent Thursday evening, the adoption agency called to say that a woman had just given birth to a baby girl and they had been selected to be the parents. They could meet their new baby on Sunday.

Thrilled beyond words, they prepared steadily for three days. Putting up the crib, buying diapers and most significantly, opening their hearts, minds and emotions to the thought of welcoming a baby girl into their lives.  

Sunday rolled around and they drove for over four hours to the hospital. (they live in a different state). On the way to the hospital, they called immediate family members to spread the good word. My brother's voice was filled with excitement and anticipation. Something that they had wanted for so long was about to become a reality. Unfortunately, the story doesn't have a happy ending for them. By the time they arrived at the hospital, they were greeted by the representative from the adoption agency. She had a grim look on her face. Apparently there was a breakdown in communication and the birth mother changed her mind on Saturday and decided to keep her baby.

She absolutely has the right to change her mind. I'm convinced it must be one of the hardest decisions a woman will ever have to make. I just felt so badly for my brother and his family. Although they were only notified four days earlier, it was long enough for them to become completely in love with the idea of raising another child. It would be unfair to describe the woman's background, situation and financial means in this blog, because it does not make her feelings for her child any less significant. But it is hard knowing that my brother and his wife would have been able to provide everything this baby could want or need as evidence by their son.

When I spoke to my brother, he described it as a "heart wrenching" experience which is a very strong word for him to use considering that he is a pretty happy-go-lucky guy. I share their heartache with them, but they are also very aware and appreciative for the many blessings they have. If it's meant to be, it will be.

For about a year, Jake and Abi (his "girlfriend" from preschool) made a promise to get married when they turn five. According to Jake, they were going to get married at preschool with all of their friends and teachers present to witness the joyous occasion... except me. I was not invited. Isn't he a little young to already have issues with his mother?

One day while picking her up from preschool, Abi's mom overheard the young couple talking and Jake said " I can't marry you anymore because I'm gonna marry my mama," Wow. I went from not being invited to the wedding to being the bride.  I was flattered. Must be the new moisturizer I'm using.

This afternoon I was looking through some photos and stumbled across some from my wedding. (8 years ago in November aggh!) Jake has seen our wedding pictures before so I shared it with him. Thinking that he would say that I looked like a princess (because he's said that before and uh, ya, I did look like a princess thankyouverymuch) I was surprised, yet amused by his reaction. He took the picture from my hand, his eyes as wide as saucers, looked at me, looked back at the picture and finally exclaimed, "You're married?!!".  It was as if a light bulb had just gone off in his head and he had just discovered a deep dark secret that I was keeping from him.

I explained that I married Daddy. He leaned on the bed, threw his head back and in disgust said, " fine".  I asked, 'is this because you wanted to marry me?" He shook his  head yes. I couldn't help but smile and just give him a big hug. Let's hope he always thinks this highly of me...at least I'll have a shot at getting invited to his real wedding.

My husband has two. My sister has four. My brother in-law has half a sleeve and my other brother in-law is trying to remove his. Yes, I'm referring to tattoos. I actually think that tattoos are interesting to look at, but perhaps what's more interesting is the reason why people get them. Some are sentimental, some are symbolic and some just because.  It seems like in mid-town and downtown Sacramento there are tattoo parlors on every corner. I often wonder how they can all stay in business, but then you look around and you can see why. They're everywhere! On arms, legs, necks, backs, ankles and I'm sure on some private areas only for select people to see. I've seen some that are truly works of art, beautifully done. I've seen others that appear quite tacky and others that make me wonder, WTF were you thinking?! However, you won't find one on me...but perhaps that may change.

For the longest time, when the topic of tattoos would come up in conversation , I would definitively say, "No, I don't want one. I wouldn't know what to get." Well, I'm changing my tune. I'm actually considering it... well, kindof, maybe considering it.  I really haven't mentioned this to anyone other than my husband. I'm sure that most people that know me would be surprised that I'm contemplating this. It's certainly nothing unique, but perhaps I'm not the "type". (whatever the "type" is.) I still don't know exactly what to get, but it would be something involving my kids, my family.  Perhaps something designed to include their initials or birthdates. Hubby thinks I would regret getting one. We'll see. So until I make up my mind, I'll continue to enjoy the wide range of art walking around Sacramento.

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It's hard to believe that it's already been one year. Happy birthday sweet Baby Girl. 

After my miscarriage, I didn't want to worry about getting pregnant. I didn't want to "try" and I didn't want to be concerned with when the "right time" was. After about eight weeks, on a hunch, I took a pregnancy test and sure enough, it was positive. I was excited, but guarded.

The first two trips to the Dr's office were dismal as she could not detect a heartbeat. Infact, after the second visit, she suggested it could be an ectopic pregnancy, so off we went to take a more intensive ultrasound. But much to our joy, although very faint, the grainy screen picked up your heartbeat.  At that moment, for the amount of worrying we had already done, hubby said it's gotta be a girl. And he was right.

We've spent the last year watching you grow and develop. You love to give hugs, play shy and bury your face in my shoulder and laugh at your big brother's silly antics. Instead of first learning to crawl, you preferred to roll from your back to your belly to get from point A to point B. You enjoy playing the xylophone, listening to music and going for rides in the stroller.  Your hair, however, is a good indication at what a unique and special little girl you are. For the first several months, you literally had a mohawk (or faux hawk). From the front to back, it stood straight up. Recently, it's taken on a new twist. The front lays down, but the back still stands tall. It's quite the conversation starter as even strangers in the grocery store like to comment on it. I love it. It's what makes you, you.

So as your birthday draws to a close, I look forward to another year of firsts. Happy birthday sweet Baby Girl. You make us so proud.

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With the weather being as hot as it has been lately, nothing says summer quiet like ice cream and frozen treats. As a kid, I can recall many a night when the blender would come out of the cabinet and chocolate milkshakes would be swirling around. Or for an extra special treat, we would ride our bikes to Dairy Queen and indulge in Peanut Buster Parfaits. (still one of my favorites)

When Jakey tried ice cream on his first birthday, he wasn't a big fan. Fastfoward four years to today and he really likes Drumsticks, popsicles and Dibbs. Baby Girl, however, has enjoyed ice cream since her first taste. She likes vanilla, vanilla with chocolate sauce, strawberry, ice cream sandwiches and has recently added fudgcicles into the mix. 

Regardless of who's eating what, it seems like more of it ends up on their hands, hair,faces and clothes than in their tummies. Perhaps it's more enjoyable to eat without caution. Nonetheless, they wear it well. Here's to the next round of frozen goodness.  

I have 4 years of experience being a mom and during that time I discovered that I had a hidden talent…acting.

A few examples involving my four year old son.

Jakey: "Mama - come look what I made!"

Me: "Wow...that...is...great. (Referring the giant deposit he made in the porcelin bowl) 

What I really want to say:  “OMG! That's gross and it stinks in here!”

Jakey: “Mama - there's a huge bug in my room.”

Me: Okay, I'll take care of it. (very calm)

What I really want to say  - “ewwww “  

Jakey: Mama – watch this, it’s so funny. (referring to the same part in Shrek that we've seen a million times).

Me: “Ha ha. That's really funny.” (with a smile)  

Inside my head: I hope this DVD melts.

The best, however, is trying not to laugh when Jake constructs a story.  

At one point,  he told me that he had a girlfriend in San Francisco (who was also four) and they had a one month old baby together. Hmm….where is hubby taking them while I’m at work?

So, the next time you watch the Oscars, don’t be surprised if you see me (or any other mom) accepting the award for best actress. We’ll have the little people (literally) to thank.  

There's a certain freedom that I experience when I drive my car without my kids. It doesn't happen very often, but when it does it feels different. It feels quiet. Sometimes it feels empty, but this morning if felt good.

Hubby took Jakey and Baby Girl to preschool/daycare this morning. As I walked out the door of my house, I only had my purse and computer in hand. I only had to make one trip to the car. I didn't have a baby in my arms, a diaper bag, extra clothes or anything else that I normally might be carrying.

Next, I fastened my seat belt, only one seat belt. I didn't get Baby Girl situated in her car seat and grab for the nearest toy to keep her entertained for the 15 minute car ride. I didn't need to buckle Jake into his booster seat. I also didn't feel him kicking the back of my chair as he often does. He always says he's making music when he kicks my seat. Good answer.

I turned on the radio and it was a station that I wanted to listen to. Not one of Jake's CD's. Although Jake does have an interesting taste in music for a four year old. He's clearly influenced by his dad. His CD mix includes Iron Maiden, Johnny Cash, The Cult, the Dixie Chicks, Rush, Metallica and Justin Timberlake. Okay, maybe I had something to do with Justin Timberlake.

I also feel a little more relaxed. I'm always a cautious driving, but there's just a different feeling when I'm only responsible for my safety as opposed to the two other lives that are so critically important to me.

So, from start to finish, it was almost 30 minutes of quiet, alone time,  responsible for only myself. It certainly felt like a little bit of freedom and it felt good.

Ok, I'm just going to say it and get it out there. I'm prepared for the backlash, disappointment and hate mail, but here we go....(deep breath)

I HAVE NEVER SEEN ONE SINGLE EPISODE OF SEX AND THE CITY!

There. I said it. Whew. I feel like it's a dirty little secret that I've been holding onto. With all of this chatter and hype about the upcoming movie release, I feel so out-of-the loop. I will say this, I have seen parts of episodes and I really enjoyed it. Infact, I know it's a show that I would totally love, but I didn't have HBO at the time and have never watched it on TBS. (or whatever station it's on)

My SATC friends have suggested watching the dvds, which I will do and want to do...some day. Perhaps I'll make it my goal by the end of the summer. It could be a good replacement show now that American Idol, The Office and 30 Rock is over.

So, there you have it. My sex secret is revealed.