Me and Erin, in the airport.  She is seeing me off to China for something.  But at the same time, I am returning from there, because I have a “memory” of losing Zoe’s jacket on the train in Beijing.  But I do find it, at least the sherpa-esque lining of it, in the airport lost and found.

And a warning from Erin:  “You do know he and his wife are on your flight.”  Which, I somehow already knew.  I roll my eyes.  And its back to work, in the red carpeted hallway, with a changing room on the right hand side, which opens to the barely-larger common area at the end of the hall.  And, I swear it is Scott Cook, is my next patient and he needs a DOT physical, and he is of course chatting and pimping me the whole time, and it IS enjoyable, and he wants a hug on his way out, and for a moment, I forget my place.

But in the corner is a door.  And he comes out, with her, in love, her gazing adoringly into his eyes.  And back into my place I go.  Shoved down in tight by the appearance of a bunch of important people from work I am not good enough to be friends with, all laughing and palling around with him, clapping him on the back as they board the plane.

I anticipate the next 3 weeks.  Same hotel, same VIPs, same dining room, same conferences:  even though I am posing.  Passing, an imposter.  feeling like a stalker-interloper-half breed who doesn’t really belong there.

I try to hide.  But I need a hit, and I look just a moment too long, and he meets my eye.  So fleetingly as I am moving into the shadow, but my stomach lurches, and the flight instinct fires, and the hear, and the breathing, and, my God.  I want to cry.  And I see myself in the changing room mirror and realize that Erin has changed me.  Dark wavy hair, red lips, small, tiny, fashionably dressed. And even though I am beautiful, even though I am like her, even though I know I am caught;  I hide in the the dressing room until Erin comes to get me.




Am I too old for Minecraft?

Living Room of house 1. Chandeliers courtesy of my four year old.
Japanese garden. Necessary because I needed a row of brick to cover up the fact that my basement theater needed to go one block wider than the edge of the building.


The theatre.  This is the movie side.  Also have a stage side.  And a private club in the basement.
The theatre. This is the movie side. Also have a stage side. And a private club in the basement.
You can’t see it from here, but those are bleachers. With signs for home and away teams. Starting blocks on the right, and lanes on the pool bottom.
The Tavern. Glowstone in the fireplace (I’ve burned a couple houses down with fire and lava) Taps on the bar, shelves behind, booths and tables. No dart board, though. You know, circles.


So, I paid $6.99 for Minecraft Pocket Edition for my brand spanking new iPhone.  And I made myself a little town!  It takes a long time, holy crap.  But I have 2 houses so far, the boys have each added one, and Kurt added a pink sheep farm.  (sigh.)  But There is a road (yellow carpet down the middle with rail on the sides for the lanes) and the road leads to a tavern, a swim club, and a theater.  There is a turn off that leads to a park with 3 (so far) trees that has a sandbox and half a slide and plans for more trees and a running trail.  There’s also a Japanese garden but I don’t like where I put it, so I’m going to put it on my last house for the block.  I am considering a second neighborhood of townhouses, and definitely a farm.  rows and rows of plants with stables and stalls for the animals.  🙂

Saturday Morning Adventures

I had the kids to myself Saturday.  Ava laying on her back on the floor of the living room with her feet on daddy’s chair, reading.  For once.  And along comes Kurt, squats his butt down near her face and says, ” Smell it, Ava!”

There’s a reasonable explanation, really!


This is the reasonable explanation.  ok.  so the kid is 4.  right?  he has baby talk.  so when he searches, via voice recognition for “lego mine craft” the machine hears “weg.”  and it gives him leg.  and other things.  ok, these things happen, so i just say, oh honey when you get those girls, just click off them.  I thought i handled it well.  apparently I intrigued him

Before and after

Pre and post baby. Love what it can do not what it looks like
Pre and post baby. Love what it can do not what it looks like

Remember those pics i promised? Unless they were ugly and embarassing? Well they are sooooo ugly and embarassing. So maybe when the after pics are done. And in the meantime, i can work on being more like this woman.

I’m not afraid of a little needle

image imageTwo tattoos and two piercings. In the same day. The tattoos I’ve been wanting for a while: one being a list of the babies’ birthdays on my shoulder blade like Angie’s, and the other says ‘for you, I will” on my inner arm. See my sister blog ‘ for an ad nauseum explanation 😜

The piercings were a spur of the moment idea but somewhere i thought the hubby would find hot (and did he ever)! But can i tell you? holy fucking shit, a 14 gauge needle through a delicate area is something i will never do again. Even without the hot flash and the sweaty toes and the nausea and the feeling like i was going to pass out. Then i had to do the other side. And I hear its going to hurt for 6-12 months. The things we do for fun.

Turn That Thing DOWN

So, we got with the times already, and got our first smartphones for Christmas. (yes, I had a slider. Don’t judge me.) And yes, the teenager got an iPhone. That dings every time she gets a text. All 73800 times a month. It has only been 3 days and I feel like throwing that goddamned thing across the room.

Five More Minutes

Today is the first of EIGHT DAYS OFF. after 7 months of 200 hours, I have EIGHT DAYS OFF. In a row. But the four year old wants me to get up. At 7:30 on a 2 hour-delay day. And he is throwing his tantrum, trying to tear the covers off of me, throwing stuffed animals, stomping and crying. “Five more minutes” I mumble, but this is not good enough. “THREE minutes”, he yells, and proceeds to count them out for me. One, two, three. And he yells, “DING!” And that is my alarm for the day.

We didn’t get out of bed right then but the laughter broke the tantrum. And we spent the next 5 minutes trying out different alarm clock sounds. 1,2,3 buzzzzzz. 1,2,3 achhh, 1,2,3, moo, 1,2,3, quack…And so now I want to invent an alarm clock in real life that makes farm animal noises. Don’t steal my idea. It could be in the shape of a red barn, and every time you hit the snooze, it gives you a different sound. I would totally buy that.

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