Like mother, like daughter

It's no secret that Avery is my Mini-Me. Strangers standing in the check-out line at Wal-Mart smile at us and say, "she looks JUST like you!" My mom has been known to say, "she looks like you spit her out of your mouth!" (And isn't THAT a lovely image?!?!)

But, just in case the fact that we could be twins (with a 28-year age difference) isn't enough for you, here are some other ways that I know Avery Brooke is MY girl.

1. Avery never shuts up. I mean never. EVER. If she's awake, she's running her mouth. And she doesn't seem to care if anyone's actually listening to her... I'm pretty sure she just likes to hear the sound of her own voice. It's okay, Avery, you have a very cute, little voice, and I like the sound of it, too. And, well, I have been told, on occasion, that I talk a lot... maybe too much (is there such a thing??). We can't help it that we have so much to say!

2. Avery loves to sing. She sings along to country music (Taylor Swift is her hero), hip hop music, Barbie and Disney Princess soundtracks, dog food commercials... you name it. And if she's not singing, she's humming (that's something we both inherited from my Gram... she hums constantly; and when Gram and I are in a car together, we both hum at the same time, different tunes. And we don't even realize we're doing it. We are strange, musical folk.). I can't remember a time in my life when I wasn't singing. When I was Avery's age, I knew the words to every country song on my mom's radio (and I wanted to look like Crystal Gayle when I grew up). Today, I still know the words to almost every song on the radio. Avery and I love to listen to music or watch music videos together, and sing along with every word. Sometimes we even harmonize... we could be the new Judds!

3. Avery hates mornings. She's the only person in this house who can (and does) sleep in later than me. Nick and Damon... they apparently have some strange sort of early bird gene. I've never understood what's so great about mornings, and apparently Avery doesn't understand either. Avery and I like to have our breakfast at around noon... Frosted Flakes taste just as good then as they do at 6am, I'll bet!

4. Avery loves to read (even though she can't really read yet). I've tried and tried to instill my love of books in my son. And every now and then, I think it's working... he'll express interest in reading, for about 10 minutes. Then, he's back to his video games or sword fighting with the neighborhood boys. But, Avery... dear, sweet Avery... she loves books. She begs me to read to her daily. And she concentrates on every word I say, so that she can memorize the story and "read" it back to me. She even takes my 500-page romance novels off the shelf and pretends she's reading them (although, I suspect that might go along more with #1 and the fact that she likes to hear her own voice).

5. Avery loves people. The child doesn't know a stranger... she'll talk to anyone. And I mean ANYONE. When we go into a store, she waves, smiles, and says "Hi!" to every single person we pass... seriously, every. single. one. And God forbid they actually respond... because that's all the encouragement Avery needs to launch into her full life history and ask about theirs. Although I'm not quite as friendly as my daughter (because I think that would just frighten people), I do, for the most part, like people. And on the rare occasion that I actually leave my house, I try to carry extra smiles and words of greeting with me (I would be an awesome Wal-Mart Greeter... now, there's a thought!).

So, there you have it... she's definitely my kid. Not only does Avery look like me, but she also talks, sings, sleeps, reads, and loves like me. And those are just five more reasons that I love her like I do.

A new computer, no sleep, and Percocet

I know, it's a strange combination of things to blog about... but that's been my last few days in a nutshell.

Against my better judgment (but because my checkbook and stack o' unpaid medical bills requires it), I took on another book project this month, in addition to my usual journal work.

I was smart this time around, though... I created a schedule of sorts and submitted it to my Project Manager, so that I would be held accountable and wouldn't (maybe) put off editing all nine chapters until the night before the deadline. And, amazingly enough, I was sticking to the schedule. Life was good.

Then, sometime last weekend, my trusty Toshiba laptop decided to quit working. I'm pretty sure the poor thing is virus-infested; it had been doing weird things for a while, but nothing so terrible that I couldn't ignore it and continue to work (so, of course, that's exactly what I did). Until last weekend. I paid the ultimate price for ignoring my trusty Toshiba when it finally decided to cease functioning altogether. And I cried.

So, I had to suck it up and buy a new desktop this weekend... with money that was supposed to be the start of our new savings account (it was a nice thought, really). Then, I spent almost a full day transferring important work files, programs, etc. from the old computer to the new one. Luckily, the trusty Toshiba cooperated just long enough to let me do that much.

So, technical difficulties caused me to fall behind on the book project. Which leads me to the "no sleep" part...

Last night I decided not to sleep, so that I could get caught up with my work. I stayed up ALL night... really. At 6am this morning, I finally fell into my bed and crashed for a few divine hours.

Today it's painfully clear to me that I am no longer a young college student who can get away with pulling all-nighters. I remember a time when all-nighters were not so uncommon, nor were they quite this painful. The good old days. But now, I'm a 32-year-old overworked and underpaid wife, mother, and editor. All-nighters are a baaaaaad idea.

I did get quite a bit of work accomplished last night, however. I'm not totally "caught up" but much closer than I was 24 hours ago!

And the Percocet? For the past few days, I've had a horrible stiff neck (probably from sitting at my desk for far too long). It's progressively gotten worse each day, and ibuprofen isn't touching it anymore. By this morning, I couldn't even lift my arm high enough to put my hair in a ponytail without crying out in pain. So, I found some Percocets in our drug basket and took one.

The good news is that I can move again. But taking a Percocet when already sleep-deprived is probably a really bad idea. I'm fighting to keep my eyelids open this afternoon, despite the full pot of coffee I've consumed.

And, I need to get back to work on this book. I could really use a sick day (or week!) right about now! In my dreams...

After Midnight

Avery just woke up (supposedly after a "weird dream") and found me sitting at the computer. She stood here next to me, rubbing her eyes, and said:

"Mommy, why don't you just go to bed right now??"

"Because I have work to do, Ave."

"So... you're never going to sleep again????"

Sometimes it feels that way, Avery, trust me! And to think that I have to fight with the kids to get them to go to sleep every night. They don't realize they're the lucky ones! I'd pay someone to force me to bed at 9pm every night...

*yawn*

Date Night Report

Nick and I had such a great time last night!

The wings were finger-lickin' good... Nick got good ole hot wings, of course. And I almost peed myself when I saw on the menu that one of their "flavors" was Old Bay. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought to season wings with Old Bay... but I knew I had to have them! As soon as the basket o' wings was placed in front of me, I inhaled deeply and was suddenly back on the Eastern Shore of MD, for just a second. Nothing says "home" like the smell of Old Bay (even if it's on wings and not blue crabs!).

The bartender didn't even know what Old Bay was... and informed me that I'm the only person who has ever ordered their Old Bay wings. Why am I not surprised?

So, the wings were a hit.

The karaoke was also fun, fun, and more fun. I sang A LOT. At one point, later in the evening, we were the only people in the place... along with the bartender and Larry, the karaoke guy. So the four of us carried on and had a blast pretending to be superstars... drunken superstars at that.

Nick even grabbed the microphone for a few songs. And we danced and everything.

It's taken me most of the day to recover from our fun night out. My head was pounding for hours... I sent Nick a text message around noon, asking him to please come home and shoot me. And I'm fairly certain Grandma won't be anxious to sit with the kids again anytime soon because we didn't make it home until after 1am (and she had to work this morning, oops!).

But, all in all, we had a fabulous night out. And I'm reallllly looking forward to bedtime tonight (I'm thinking 7pm sounds like a good time for lights out!).

Wing It and Sing It Wednesday!

In a few hours, Grandma is coming over to stay with the munchkins for the evening... so that Nick and I can spend some time together outside of our house (and away from our favorite little people).

To say I'm looking forward to it is a vast understatement.

The little bar down the street from our house has wings (Nick's favorite) and karaoke (my favorite) on Wednesday nights, so that's going to be our first (and probably last) stop!

The only downfall is that I have tons of editing work here... so I should be a good girl and stay home and WORK tonight. Yeah, right... I'm going out, work or no work. Because I'm fairly certain the work will still be here tomorrow, and life is short! And also because a date with my hubby is priceless...

Learning to Ride

Damon has been all about bike-riding this summer... but, until recently, his sister never expressed any interest. I guess her big brother started rubbing off on her and she wanted in on the fun. This bike is one of the Treasures from Our Basement... so, Nick and I took Avery to the school up the street the other day so that she could practice riding.

She loved it!

And before anyone feels the need to point it out... yes, I know she wasn't wearing the recommended protective gear. Yes, I know that makes me a bad mom. It's amazing I've managed to keep my kids alive this long...

A little sad

Actually, I'm a lot sad tonight.

We moved to the Hills 5.5 months ago. I think I can truthfully tell you that we're starting to feel "at home" here. We survived our first winter (it was really only HALF of a winter, wasn't it? eeek!); Damon has made some neighborhood friends who love the PS2 as much as he does; we have doctors that we're very happy with; Nick has a great, local job that suits all of us; and Spring and Summer have been positively gorgeous here on top of our hill.

But, without a doubt, what I've enjoyed the most these past few months is the friendship that we've developed with our neighbors. Not the crazy old people across the street who adore their driveways, but the family right next door---Terri, Mark, Paige, Dante, and Izzy (Comet's girlfriend, remember?).

When the snow finally melted a few months ago, all of the neighborhood kids started congregating in our yard every afternoon/evening... including Paige and Dante from next door. So, I started sitting outside with Terri, and we yelled at the kids and dogs, smoked a lot of cigarettes, and got to know one another a little more each day.

I've grown to love Terri and her kids... and the dog, too (even though I have no room in my life for another animal to love, Lord knows). Our husbands have even become friendly recently (well, as friendly as two very anti-social, stubborn men who each work two jobs can be!).

But yesterday, a moving truck pulled up next door, and Terri and family loaded all of their belongings into it... and they left us. Isn't that just my luck? We have neighbors for the first time in years, and we even LIKE them... and now they're gone. *sniff, sniff*

Granted, they moved just outside of town, maybe a 15-minute drive from here (if that). So, by no means are they rid of us! I'm planning to take the kids and Comet out to their new house at least once a week, so that we can stay in touch and remain great friends. And Avery will be in preschool with Dante this Fall, so I'm sure we'll run into each other there. But still, that's a lot different than having them right next door. *sniff, sniff*

Nick and I were sitting out on our porch this morning, and I glanced next door and realized how quiet it is now. Dante isn't running outside saying, "Hey! Is Damon home? Can Damon come out and play? I wanna play the video game where you shoot people!" And Izzy isn't running over every chance she gets to see if Comet can come out to play or knock over his water bowl. Paige isn't doing backflips in my backyard and playing freeze tag with the younger kids. And Terri isn't here to sit on the porch, relax, and have a cold beer with me at the end of a long day. Darn it.

Tonight, I'm feeling a little hormonal anyway... and losing my neighbors (the only halfway normal people on this street, no less!) is definitely not helping. With any luck, their replacements will be just as nice and just as normal... but I'm not really counting on it. And they certainly won't be Terri, Mark, Paige, Dante, and Izzy. *sniff, sniff*

So, Terri, I know you're busy unpacking and getting settled in your new, gorgeous home in the country... but know that we're already missing you (tons!) here in town. And when you start to miss the old freaks across the street (you know you will!), you can always come back to visit us. We'll see you guys soon!