Super Noob:
Arizonamamma

I should warn you that this is just a random post about nothing much at all. Just was remembering a couple of things, and here goes...

When I was younger, well, no...not when I was younger. At least not just when I was younger. I still do it today. What? Ah yes, let's get to that. I ask questions like "would you rather...?" or "what would you do if I...?" I get a huge kick out of asking the most outlandish things. What's even funnier is I have actually done some of the "what would you do if I's?"

My husband (then just plain old boyfriend) and I were walking by a restaurant, and I asked him "what would you do if I pressed my bare butt (does that offend you? should I say bottom?) against the glass window to the people eating just inside?" He couldn't get me outta there fast enough. He already knew what sort of crazy streak I have and he embarrasses easily.

Not sure why I find this so funny. I have always appreciated humor that defies the norm. I get the biggest charge out of seeing people's reactions to behavior that isn't considered socially acceptable. So much so that I have done some pretty out there things just so I could get those reactions.

Read on.

I am in high school. I am walking home and trailing behind a small group of boys (not anyone I recognized). One of them is straggling just behind the others. I am alone. Idea. I speed up so that I am just behind the straggler and I softly make a noise like a chicken "baaaak." The straggler stiffens a little, but pretends not to notice. I am stifling a laugh. I repeat the noise...only this time slightly louder and with a little poke of my index finger to his back. He turns to look at me immediately. Unmasked shock in his eyes (I couldn't blame him). Then without hesitating he catches up to his friends and is frantically whispering to them. Well, I couldn't make the guy look crazy to his friends, right? That's what I figured...so as they were standing huddled just fifteen feet in front of me, I begin scratching at the ground with my right foot and loudly making the chicken noises ( I am dying of laughter at the memory as I write). My arms are bent at the elbows and I am flapping as if I have wings. They are staring, no doubt wondering if I was on something, or if I was a little crazy...I was neither. As this is happening, my adrenaline surges, and in one last burst I shoot forward to their group, scuttle through them (all the while making the chicken sounds), then stop and calmly walk away. They are left standing and still wondering what on God's green earth is wrong with me. I laughed all the way home that day. On a little side note I ran into them later in the year at a post football game party. They all laughed and shouted "hey it's the chicken lady." They all admitted they thought I must have been totally crazy, but that they thought it was hilarious. It was. Anyway, we were friends after that night.

As I sit here tonight, I realize that I actually don't do stuff like that anymore. Not really. Now I am too busy making sure that bottoms and noses are wiped, mouths are fed, no one is hurting anyone else, my house is at least in some state of "respectable." Yet the thing is, I know that I will do those things again. My kids have no idea what lurks in their future. I thought my mom could embarrass me when I was young? (okay, so maybe I was the one who embarrassed her, but that doesn't fit in with the point I am trying to make). Anyway, all I am saying is: Drew, Addyson and Colton, beware! The chicken still lives within.

Nursing my two little ones was an amazing experience. Both times. Knowing that I was all they really needed to survive during that time, was very surreal. I am passionately pro breast feeding! A true believer that breast feeding, is in deed, best feeding.

Now that I am no longer nursing my youngest, I find it a little bittersweet. Bittersweet and...embarassing! I mean, come on! Why is there still milk in these girls? Not that I am anxioulsy awaiting the ultimate frontal sags, but if it isn't going to good use, then I don't want it in there.

So what brought this on? I mentioned that my kids are sick. They still are. Addyson is feeling much better, but Colton was very clingy today. So I carried him around for a good portion of the day. This lead to my inability lack of desire to make lunch. Instead, I ordered from a local pizza place. Muy excelente...oh wait, wrong ethnicity. Anyway, I ordered the kids a calzone to share.

Fourty minutes later, the doorbell rings, and I am still toting my 14 month old around the house. Here is where I should mention that I am still in the t-shirt and shorts that I slept in...ah, and no bra...see where this is headed? So I put Colton down to answer the door, hastily I hand over my debit card for verification. As I have my arm outstretched to pizza boy he just stands there staring forever for a second or two before taking my card. Inside my head I say something like "Seriously? You don't see my crying kid here? Really, just take your time, jackass!" Yeah, it was probably something like that. We complete the rest of our brief transaction, I close the door and usher the kids to the kitchen.

Passing a mirror I roll my eyes at the goddess unkempt figure who looks back at me...then I see it. Yep, where I had been carrying Colton against my bra-less chest, there now sits a silver dollar sized wet mark. Too perfectly positioned, too perfectly shaped to simply be something I spilled on myself. Great. I can only imagine the story that pizza boy told his pimply faced cronies.

So I ask again...why is there still milk in these girls? I last nursed Colton on October 19th! Oh well, at least I brightened some teenage boy's day. So from now on, you can just call me Elsie. Elsie the cow.

I have been operating almost on autopilot this entire day. Nearly numb waiting for news...but praying for news like THIS. I am elated, which probably only scratches the surface of the joy MckMama and her family must feel.

I am amazed by her story, and how it has affected so many people all over the world. Crazy...this thing called blogging. Mckmama (for the very few of you who have not read her blog) is an inspiration to so many. Inspiring even in the most mundane day to day details, let alone how she has handled the situation with her youngest son, Stellan.

If I am being totally honest (and that is what I aim to be 100% of the time), she was the reason I started my blog. Not because I wanted to be like her, but because I would read her posts, and find myself with things swimming in my head. These things, aka thoughts, needed an outlet. This is mine. It matters not to me whether I have one million readers or one. I write these posts for me, and for my family...and anyone who cares to read. However, I have gotten a little off the beaten path here.

Back to what this post was all about to begin with...Mckmama. Through her blog, and with her amazing story, I have been inspired. Inspired in more ways than just to begin a blog. On a very personal level, she has inspired in me a deeper faith in God. Even if this story had had a different outcome, mine would still be the same. For that I believe a sincere thank you is in order. So...thank you, Jennifer. Your one life has touched so many.

I had my first meeting tonight with a local Mom's Meet Up Group. Fun! Smart on my part to chose one that was designated a Mom's night. I was able to actually focus on the women there and have conversations without the incessant demands of my angelic (tongue in cheek) babes. I am so glad I decided to do this. I look forward to having planned activities to do with my kids. You know, the zoo and the park lose their luster after the hundreth time in the same week. Okay, so I don't really take them 100 times in a week. But doesn't it count if it feels that way?

In any case, I actually ran into a college friend tonight. She is a member of this group as well, and I was definitely excited to see her there. Her two children are very close in age to my little ones. I don't know if it was the great company, the fact that I had a familiar face there, or the one beer I let myself drink (had to drive)...so let's just say it was a culmination of the three that had me saying things like "Oh yes, I have bladder control issues after having the second one." What? Did that really just come out of my mouth? That brings to mind depends, and walkers (not that there is anything wrong with anyone at any age using either). Just that I don't. Nor do I need to. But still, those words did escape my lips tonight. What I was ineptly trying to explain was how before kids I could hold it...for a long time. Now, not so much. Oh I try, when I am in the midst of making meals and wiping bottoms, and blowing noses, and getting juices I definitely try to eek out every extra moment I can. Just not as successfully as I used to before kids. If I push it just that one second too far...yep, you guessed it. I pee a little. Nice, right? I can't really believe that I am sitting here sharing this either, but what the heck. I know I am not alone in this. So if no one else cares to share, I will. Let's say I am taking one for the team ;)

Here is the new hair. Please don't judge the picture. It is horrible. It doesn't do the cut justice at all. Shella at La Lou is an amazing hair stylist, and I will be sure to post a much better picture to show off her skills.

Here is the old length. Now, the deal is it NEVER looked like this. I always had it in a ponytail (like I said before, and I don't mean to be redundant). Besides, just think of the person this hair will help!

So let's hear it. What do you think? Anyone plan on doing anything drastic to their hair? Please do tell!!

So...after much deliberation, I decided a change was in order. I did it. I cut my hair. Tresses which previously fell below my bra strap, now are only about chin length. Photos to come very soon. It took me about 2 years to grow my hair to its previous length. Two years of being pregnant and/or nursing a baby...all the while loading up on prenatal vitamins. Sigh. It is those very same babies that led to my ultimate decision to cut my hair. I never, I repeat, NEVER did my hair. It was always pulled back in a ponytail. So I figured now, I will have no choice. No ponytail option, so style I must.

Oh yes, and to contribute in my very small way, I am donating my hair to locks of love for Cancer Awareness Month. I am also donating a hat (made by my amazing niece, Katja) to a campaign which is being run by Mckmama. You can find out more about it here. Feel moved to contribute? Please do!

Back later with pictures. Please feel free to comment and let me know what you think! I would love to hear from you.

I am leaving to go to Phoenix tonight as soon as Andy gets home from the gym. I am headed up to go the the U2 concert which is tomorrow. It is just much easier for me to go tonight and not have a torrent of tears and an all out scream-fest at my leaving. Yes...Andy needs to learn to control his emotions a bit better. The kids are still very attached to Mamma.

Anyway, I have packed my bags, and now anxiously await my husband's return. All the while feeling sad. Isn't that crazy? Sad because I am going to miss my kids. Sad because it means (more than likely) the end of my nursing Colton. I suppose it's time anyway. He is, afterall, 14 months old. Sigh. Reminds me...I have to update the kids baby books.

Who will be watching the kids while I am off jet setting? Why Andy! He is taking Tuesday and Wednesday off to stay home with them. I will be back Wednesday mid-morning sometime. I can't wait to come back to my house in perfect order all clean and fresh...Ahem, or just come back to my house exactly as it is now. That'll do just fine.