i am a coconut.

happy birthday, eve.

It is after midnight which means that it is now Friday, the 29th, the eve of my 33rd birthday. I don't enjoy birthdays much anymore. I kinda want to just skip over it. All birthdays do is remind me that my uterus is not being used for what I want the most. That I am one step closer to an age where kids won't be an option anyway. That I don't hold a baby in my arms. September represents such a jumble of emotions: my happy anniversary, my melancholy birthday. Oh, well. Scrap therapy, here I come.

Used an upcoming kit from ScrapAddict.com.

productive day.

I have decided to scrapbook today and do some laundry and walk a little and do some exercises. In other words, I've been sitting and then standing and then sitting and then standing...Do you see a pattern? In other words, I am trying to listen to my body and do what it wants. If my ass hurts sitting, I walk. If walking is too much, I rest. In any case, I've been busy. Finished these pages for a photo swap at ScrapAddict.com. I tried working with multiple 4x6 photos which for me is a stretch!

you have a petrified butt.

I keep quoting Ed, my Physical Therapist, but he keeps saying such sweet things. Today, I asked if it was ok for me to get on the treadmill just to walk. In response, he proceeds to introduce me to other exercises that kill me, trying to loosen me up. He also had me walk up and down the floor to see how I've been walking in and out of PT every day. In his assessment, he says that my butt is too stiff and that I need to "relax" it more and put some hip action in there. In other words, my hips should rotate not grind. Yes, I have pain in my lower back/butt and in order to guard against it, I stiffen up. No sashaying for me. At least not yet. Little does he know that my stiff puckered butt is because my husband keeps trying unsuccessfully (he says accidentally) to get in there, if you get my drift. Honey, that is strictly an outie, not an innie. Let me now quote my dear husband who also says the sweetest things. "Oops!"

brown is the new black.

Lovin brown lately. It goes with everything. Or so says this brown girl. Trying green with it here.

you make my knees weak.

The drywall people had to be rescheduled for this morning and they brought in this big ass ladder to get to the ceiling. God was laughing at me when he made me height challenged. He also made me deathly afraid of heights. Ha ha! Well, I had to warn these people that if they fell off the freakin thing, I would not do any medical care since it is my day off. Plus, they were too old for a pediatric nurse to work on. Good luck, buddy.

waiting.

I am spending the day waiting for the air conditioning people and the people who do drywall and the painters. Three different companies. How exciting. We found a discoloration in the ceiling a few weeks back and the housing development has attributed it to a small leak from the AC when we turned it on for the summer. It hasn't gotten any bigger, maybe 7x2 inches, but it was driving us nuts that we couldn't figure it out. It doesn't help that the ceiling is 20 feet high. So now they have to cap off the small leak and fix the cosmetic damage. Of course, these repairs have to happen in order. Dry wall repair before painting.  Well, why not? I have nothing to do today anyway. Sigh. Come on over and keep me company.

musings.

There's a lot to think about when one is home alone without anything to do but to sit and get better. Of course, I do my PT exercises and sneak in some housework even though Jeff forbids it. I try and scrapbook but sitting for long periods of time hurts me. So I stop. In the end, I think about things. A LOT. We know that we are blessed with our situation despite my injury. Financially we are ok. I have a job with benefits. It allows me to be home to recover for over a month with pay. We have shelter over our heads. We eat well. Too well, I think. :)

Sometimes I wonder what my purpose is. What am I here for? Once I thought it was to become a mother. It's not looking like this anymore. At least biologically. I cannot mentally and psychologically handle fertillity treatments at this time. I cried too much and I wanted to rise above that. I felt sorry for myself too often and forgot about all the other blessings in our life. Summertime made me wonder about a life beyond just Jeff and myself, which by the way is not too bad. I kinda like him. But one with kids, his kids. I connected with Jeff Jr. and Abigail so much more this time around. We had quality time and I was not afraid of fricking them up so much anymore. Yes, they drove me up the wall, but after they left, I missed them terribly. Is this how a mother feels when her children are not around? An emptiness and an unwelcome silence? A hollow feeling in the pit of one's stomach? I did not bear these children but I feel SOMETHING, a connection I cannot describe. Motherly love coming from someone other than their own mother? Strange, I know.

So. Jeff and I are seriously thinking of having the munchkins live with us. All the time. Not just the summer parenting thing. Problem is, we got an ex-wife in the picture. No, she's not a witch. At least not now. But she's had physical custody of the kids since the divorce. The kids are doing well where they are now. But Jeff Jr. will be 12 years old soon. He idolizes his father and needs a father figure beyond the minimum visits and twice weekly phone calls. Senior wants to have more time with his son and Junior craves it so very much. Sure the ex-wife has offered to have him live with us, but that's because he has started the teen back talk. We could have said yes at that point. But what about Abby? We don't want to separate them. They are the only constant in their life and they probably couldn't make it without one another. Still, we have a feeling that the ex will not give up custody of Abby simply because she is her own spitting image and she is spoiled rotten by her side of the family. Looks JUST like her. Hence the problems we have with the ex's mother aka the ex-monster-in-law who wants to start over with the mistakes she made with her own daughter. She wants Abby to be her guinea pig and her daughter Junior. Yes, I digress. In any case, Abby needs her father as much as her brother. And she needs a father who will treat them and love both of them equally. Yes, she needs a mother, but what am I? Chopped liver? I think I would be ok at it.

We are still in the preliminary stages of these thoughts. We have gotten the name of a family court lawyer and want to see where we stand in this. I have a feeling we won't get far, but it's worth a try, right? They are doing ok in another state. No serious problems besides Jeff Jr. wanting to see more of his father, and Abby talking too much in class (she is her father's daughter, ha!). Why uproot them? Well, we've thought about this, too. Yes, it would be a sacrifice for all, but hubby and I believe we have a lot to offer. We have a family unit for them here. Both sides of the family is here for support (well, except the ex monster-in-law but she's not a constant). My family welcomes them with open arms. They could learn a lot about tolerance and other cultures. I don't know. We really don't want to make this ugly for us or for the kids. Maybe the answer would just be to talk to the ex about our thoughts and sees how she feels about it. Without court battles. We may be surprised. I guess time will tell.

my most embarassing moment.

I've had many embarrassing moments in my life and I've come to expect it, if not welcome it, like a long lost friend that I know so well. And so when my friend came to visit today, I was not surprised. Of course these instances happen in oh-so-public places like physical therapy. Full of people. I was doing my pole dancing moves (what? do they not teach this in other places?). OK I just call them that because they are OBSCENE when your exercises involve a pelvis and other jiggling parts. I try not to embarrass myself too much. I try to shackle my rolls with sweats and a sports bra. I guess my boobs protested their restraints because the right one broke free and proceeded to flap in the wind as I was doing "cat arches." No wonder I was feeling a breeze. See below. That is me 100 pounds lighter. In other words, these drawings were done when I was 3 years old.

so sad.

I didn't see the rest of Steve Irwin's memorial service, but I saw this. It just breaks my heart.

pink and orange.

Thought I would change the colors of the blog today and make another mosaic. Yep. I am bored. Jeff refuses to let me do any housework as I am only allowed to do my PT exercises. Yes, husband, whatever you say, husband.