Craftastic!

Guess what?? The craft fair is done! Read how much money we raised for the arts program at the school. Oh, and there's a bit about me, too.

Stress? Me? Nevah!

I’d like to think of myself as someone who has a high capacity for stress. I try to keep a sense of humor, I try to constrain my knee-jerk reactions, I don’t crawl under the bedsheets for days and wallow in my own misery. I say this, because I think we all know someone who is like that. And we may all be a bit like that during PMS, but that’s another post.

Anyway, we know we can run circles around “those people”. But what happens when you think you’ve been become that part of the group of “those people”? Let me say first that I think we all have delusions of grandeur in ourselves that probably helps us function during times of crisis. Those times in life when we are literally about to burst, but through clenched teeth we’re like, “I’m fine, really I’m fine. Oh, the twitching? It’s a new form of exercise for me.”

It’s easy for us moms to put on that game face. We all know motherhood is not for wimps, so we’re seasoned stress-fighters. Work is not for wimps either, and if you’re a mom working outside the home or in the home, we need the game face for that business stuff, too. So what I’m leading up to here is that last time I looked in the mirror my game face was getting a little haggard. It’s looking angry and tired. It’s forgetting what play is next in the book; whether it’s a man-to-man defense or a fast break for the basket. I feel outnumbered on the court and with no coach on the sidelines telling me what to do.

I’m juggling a bit too many things right now with volunteer work, craft projects, job searching, a full-time day job, mothering; you know, same old same old I suppose. Usually I handle it with at least a little bit of aplomb, but this past week I’m stumbling. And people are getting affected in ways I didn’t want them to be. I’m not blogging much, not reading much, I’m kind of getting semi-paralyzed. It’s like multi-tasking on crack. So much to do, and don’t know where to start.

So can I please have some laughter? The air is heavy around me lately. I need that I-can-do-it attitude back. It’s necessary for my survival because crashing would just be so detrimental. So I’m asking you please, direct me to something funny soon before I lose all grip with reality.

Why Andrew is now "Owen"

We attended a great workshop today! And met a great blogger in real-life, too.

Plane Funk

Considering all that re-circulated air, close quarters with strangers and dirty seats, does anyone NOT get sick from a plane ride? About 99.9% of the time I have flown in a plane I get sick. It never seemed to bother me when I was a kid, with all those superbly youthful immunity genes dancing around in my system. Now, for me a plane ride is a certain equation for impending viruses. What I’d like to call, “plane funk.” (There's also a disturbing amount of "Jersey Shore Funk" gathering around the sand, as seen in the picture above!)

The wedding in NJ was great and my friend looked beautiful. But by 10pm I was ready for my pajamas and a hot cup of tea. Before the wedding, I couldn’t breathe through my nose, so I took a daytime Claritin. Note to readers: do NOT take a daytime Claritin if you plan to indulge in sleep anytime over the course of the next 24-36 hours. Forgive me if this seemed obvious to others. Apparently my desire for breathing caused a momentary lapse of logical brain synapses when it came to decision making.

Andrew was also dragging a bit during the trip until the very last day when he was all sprite and back to his normal self. He did great on both the plane rides, however was fairly homesick the entire time. Kept asking for Dada and CJ. Chopped liver (ahem) who he was with, apparently didn’t make the ranks of adequate comforting.

All I can say is home sweet home. We’re all closing in on normal in our house for now. And I’m so behind on blogging! Forgive me anyone who still reads this for my lack of commenting. My craft fair that I am coordinating at my son’s school is getting close: March 28th. There are about 99 things left to do in preparation for it, and I only have about 2 other volunteers to help me, no babysitter for the kids on that day, and an overflowing amount of vendors to make happy. I envision myself on March 29th sitting in the corner with an IV attached to a very large bottle of cabernet.

Safe at 30,000 feet

We had a safe flight to NJ!

So did Elmo.

Quality time at 30,000 feet

My fear of flying revealed. Take a peek.