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The first 4 months of 2008 have been riddled with stress, excitement, challenges, pleasures, self learning, tears, laughter and gratitude. I've experienced a lot of  "life" in these four short months and have been tested in several ways. I've started a new job, baby girl started daycare, my dad tackled prostate cancer, my mom is recovering from pnemonia, I've lost and gained the same 5 pounds repeatedly, I've started and stopped my running routine several times and the list goes on. I am a person of routine. I know that about myself. I work better with a little structure and planning. I like making lists because lately I feel like I'm more forgetful. I enjoy scheduling things on the calendar and feeling prepared. Basically, I like to be in control or at least feel in control.  And for awhile, I actually felt like I was. Okay maybe it was only for a couple of days, but at least I felt like I was making progress. As a working mom with two small children, my day-to-day is probably not much different than thousands of other moms. Trying to balance work, life and co-manage a household with my husband without feeling anxious when the laundry piles up or dinner is whatever I can find in the refrigerator, can be somewhat stressful. But I know that everything is not always going to run smoothly and sometimes I'll feel like I'm running really fast, but not getting anywhere. Such is life. So, I'm going to take a step back and realize that as long as my family is fed, loved, bathed, have at least one clean outfit to wear and I'm keeping my head above water at work, that I'm doing pretty good. For me, right now, it's back to one day at a time.

Whatever happened to her? OMG! Did you hear about him? I had a wonderful time over the weekend getting together with my two best friends from high school and walking down memory lane. We've stayed in touch sporadically over the last 17 years (holy cow! 17 years) but this was the first time in several years that the three of us were together with no interruptions, no kids, no spouses, just the girls. It was almost as if we were teenagers again and no time had past. We filled five hours with laughter, wine and continuous conversation. It was effortless.

We paged through old yearbooks, photo albums, greeting cards and remembered our first crushes. We laughed at our hairstyles, clothes and the songs we used to like. We spent the majority of time, however, talking about our former classmates. It was somewhat surreal to think that at one point we were all doing the same thing at the same time. We came from various backgrounds, but from 8:00AM – 3:00PM, Monday – Friday, we were all classmates. Fast forward 17 years and our graduating class has produced everything from a well known Hollywood actress, to a school teacher, a meth addict and a suburban house wife. It was also very clear that our experiences as teenagers and young adults has had significant impact on our character today. The pressure of wanting to fit in, underage drinking and sex was easier to resist for some and harder for others.

As I was driving home, I thought about my kids. Although several years away from being confronted with those choices, I hope that I will give them enough confidence and courage to help them make the right decisions. I think it’s in our nature to want to fit in, find a circle of friends and feel included, but at what cost and what is sacrificed?

So if another classmate plays the "whatever happened to her?" game, they probably wouldn't be surprised to know that I'm married, have two kids and work. I've had my fair share of life's experiences along the way, but I'm happy and grateful for where I've landed.     

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For the last few weeks, hubby (mostly hubby) has been grumbling about how dirty the kitchen floor is. We both sweep on a regular basis, but it's time to break out the mop. It could use a little, well a lot of TLC. We're over due and here's how I know. 

Remnants of Thursday's Mac and Cheese dinner is stuck under Jakey's chair. Today is Tuesday.

My sock literally almost came off my foot when I stepped in some unknown sticky substance. I'm thinking it's jelly.

Three people in my house wear shoes, yet there are seven pairs of shoes surrounding the perimeter of the kitchen

The dust bunnies seem to growing larger every day - and they look mean!

If I walk barefoot in the kitchen, something always sticks to the bottom of my foot. (and it's usually sharp!)

If I wipe a spot on the floor with a white paper towel, the paper towel is no longer white

It's not uncommon to find small dried up pieces of play-doh, slivers of cut up paper or extra pieces of pipe cleaner. I need to support the budding artist.

Here's the crazy part - I actually don't mind mopping. There's just never a right time because mopping the kitchen means closing down the heart of the house. We do everything here ranging from eating, to art projects, to playing board games and playing on the computer. I also rely on my iPod. I find anything is bearable if I have some music in my ear and the mindset that I'm  burning calories. That's right, I trick myself into thinking it counts as a work out. Hey, whatever works.   

So I predict that this week my kitchen floor will be sparkling clean...at least until the next round of mac and cheese is served. 

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I was at work today and the water cooler chatter included weekend events, birthday parties and how nice the weather has been. It was a pleasant conversation until someone mentioned that it's supposed to be 84 degrees next week. "yeah, sandal weather" someone chimed in.  In my head I immediately went into panic mode. "Sandals?! OMG! I need a pedicure!"

For the last several months, my feet have been safely hidden from public view . They have been comfortably nestled in socks and closed toed shoes. My feet are not my best feature and they're not my worst, but before they see the light of day, they need a little help.

I've been to several places around town to get pedicures and each one offers a different experience. Some are a little more swanky than others, but my favorite place is in East Sac. It's a pretty simple set up, but they're efficient, do a great job and are reasonably priced. Sometimes I go with a friend and other times I enjoy the most coveted "alone time". I can disappear behind the pages of a magazine, catch up on Hollywood gossip and relax for about an hour. Well, I'm not completely relaxed the entire time. I squirm every time they bring out the brush and scrub the bottoms of my feet. It tickles! You too?

I have some friends that are great at maintaining their own toes, but that's not one of my talents. Hopefully when my daughter is older and if she wants me to paint her nails, she'll think it's okay for me to color outside of the lines. Until then, I'll leave it up to the professionals to get me ready for sandal season.

I’m the youngest of five kids. I have three older brothers and one older sister, so by birth order that makes me number five or “the baby”. Despite the fact that I’m 34, married with two children and working full time, I’m still “the baby”. I think it’s a unique experience for my siblings to watch me grow and evolve as a person/wife/mother, but perhaps it’s more significant for my parents, maybe even more so for my dad. My dad still reminisces about the time when I was three months old, he put a bottle in his back pocket and took me to church. Naturally I don’t remember that, but he remembers like it was yesterday. One of the first memories I have involving my dad is when I was three or four. He would regularly give me a bath, wash my hair, wrap me up in a towel and put me to bed. I remember during the grade school years we would read books, make paper airplanes, play cards (double solitaire was our favorite) and during the summer, make chocolate milkshakes and swim at the community pool. It was a fairly simple, easy relationship to maintain. Then one day, as all girls do, I became a tween and entered Jr. high. It seemed like overnight I was injected with a large dose of attitude and my parents became uncool. For about four years, I had a limited vocabulary and answered every question that my dad would ask with ‘fine, good, okay” or “I dunno”. We had some awkward and uncomfortable moments, but I was always excited to bring home a good report card and did everything I could to hide the bad ones. Math and science did not come easy to me and I can remember sitting at the kitchen table with my dad agonizing over math problems. We made it through…barely.  

Throughout college and into my young adult years, we maintained a relationship that I was familiar with. My parents would host major holidays and family gatherings.  My mom would always have home cooked meals and my dad would still change the oil in my car. Over the past few years, however, I’ve noticed a gradual shift. I’m able to give back to them, host family parties at my house, cook and provide a place to sleep. It didn’t really dawn on me about how our relationship was changing until recently. My dad was diagnosed with prostate cancer in December. Luckily, they caught it early and it’s not life threatening. Nonetheless, it was a rude and unpleasant reminder that my dad has more years behind him, than he does in front of him. He had an outpatient procedure done a few weeks ago. I was able to drive him home from the hospital, provide him with food and help him recuperate. Again, this was another shift. As a kid, I was used to him nursing me back to health from an illness.  

As our relationship evolves, there’s still one constant – my dad is a wonderful, charming and gracious man. He has taught me many valuable lessons, perhaps most importantly he’s taught me to appreciate and learn from life’s experiences. I suppose in my dad’s eyes I will always be his baby, but in my opinion, that’s not a bad place to be.   

Moms, take note of the following actual events. Learn something here and don't let your four year olds read this. They're sneaky.

Every Monday, my in-laws watch my wee ones while hubby and I are at work. Jakey is four and Baby Girl is almost nine months old. Additionally, my mother in-law makes us dinner every week. Yes, I know, I'm spoiled...but I love it. It's hubby responsiblity to pick up/drop off because my in-laws live two miles from his office. It was a typcial Monday, hubby picked up the kids and they were about five minutes into the 20 minute car ride home. The aroma of a nice warm, home cooked meal filled the car, when according to hubby, the conversation went something like this.

"Daddy, I have to go pee pee."

"Well, can you hold it?"

"No, Daddy, I have to go NOW!"

Panicked, hubby looked around for someplace he could quickly pull over. 

"That place has a bathroom," Jakey said.

So they pulled over and went inside the restaurant with the golden arches. Jakey went inside with a full bladder and came out with a Happy Meal.

Well played young man, well played.