Heck yeah I'm a fun mom!

A few nights ago, I found myself absolutely buried under work (like TWO deadlines behind) with two sinks full of dirty dishes, a mountain of dirty laundry, carpet in desperate need of a vacuum, and two hungry children.

So, I was getting ready to fix dinner for the kids when Damon picked up an empty apple juice box from Save-A-Lot (where we buy juice in bulk every week) and said, "Hey! We could make a robot with this!!"

Indeed, we could.

Dinner prep was quickly forgotten and I sent the kids through the house searching high and low for any kind of cardboard box that we could use to build a robot. They were quite resourceful. Damon helped with the design, and I was the head engineer of this project (or, the person who fought and cussed the roll of packing tape!).

Dinner was an hour late that night. The dishes and Avery's bath were put on hold until the next morning. The laundry and work are STILL not done. But, for a few minutes that evening, my kids thought I was the coolest mom on the planet.

Meet Robie:

Comet (aka Dumb and Worthless)

I guess you could say Comet and I have a love/hate relationship. I hate him because he's a royal pain in my butt.


He's huge and clumsy, and I don't think he'll ever learn the meaning of the word "DOWN!" He's ALL puppy and runs around here like a maniac most of the time. He's like a bull in a china shop; nothing is safe from Comet the Moose and his big tail. He's not a very "barky" dog (unless Lizzie gets him started; then he has to follow suit and pretend he's a real dog), but he has this Ewok growl thing that he does... it's very odd, to say the least. He destroys anything in his path: shoes, Matchbox cars, Barbies, socks, underwear, pillows, junk mail... you name it. If it's left out, Comet will destroy it. And he's also a very expensive pet... vet bills, flea and tick meds, replacement toys/shoes/socks/underwear, not to mention Puppy Chow bought in bulk!


But Comet DOES have a few things going for him: he's very sweet, incredibly gorgeous, and makes me laugh... a lot. He also plays a mean game of fetch.






How can you NOT love that face??

My first week as a "single mom"

People laugh and roll their eyes when I say I'm a newly single mom... but really, that's what it feels like from here.


A week ago, my husband packed his bags and took off, leaving me behind with two kids, two dogs, a house, and even trash duty (the nerve!).


Yes, I know I'm still married and that I haven't actually been deserted... and Nick will stop by every couple of weeks to say "hey!" and let us know he's still alive and well (and he'll probably even LET me do his laundry, weeee!)... but technically, I'm pretty much a single mom now, doing it all on my own.


And after one full week, I'm thinking Nick better watch out and mind his Ps & Qs... because being a single mom isn't nearly as horrible as I've been imagining for the past 6 years! lol


I am absolutely exhausted (early mornings and late nights are catching up to me); I'm learning that I have a strange OCD thing (that's another blog post of its own, stay tuned for that!); I'm pretty sure that my prescription of Wellbutrin is the only thing that has kept me from murdering my children on a few different occasions (yes, in just one week); I almost lost both dogs in one afternoon; and I miss my husband immensely, in every way imaginable.


BUT, aside from all of those negatives, I'm doing surprisingly well. Really, I am. Friends and family members have been calling me throughout the week, and I get "How are you doing, Erin???" They're seriously concerned for me... like they think I'm going to be sitting in a corner drooling, I guess. But, I promise you, I'm fine... I'm more than fine.

I'm doing it. I'm taking care of everything, on my own. And, honestly, that kinda feels GOOD. I'm feeling this new sense of empowerment... because I'm realizing that I don't NEED Nick here to help me with things. Yes, I'd like for him to be here... and I'd love his help (mostly with morning routines, because I really, really miss sleeping in!). But, I'm learning that life as I know it will not come to a screeching halt without my husband here to hold my hand.

And there's no doubt in my mind that IF we can all survive his two-week periods away, we'll treasure even more the time that he's home. Damon's nifty "countdown calendar" tells us that Daddy will be home in 6 more days. Piece o' cake! *wink*

There should be a sign...

when you walk into Wal-Mart that says this:

WARNING: No matter your intention, you WILL spend at least $100 before you leave this store. Have a nice day!! [insert that annoying damn smiley face sticker here]

Avery and I went to Wal-Mart this afternoon... to buy dog food and a calendar. DOG FOOD and a CALENDAR. I should've spent, oh, around $13.

THAT was my intention.

An hour later, I forked over $101 and walked to my car feeling slightly ill. How does one spend $101 when she goes to Wal-Mart to buy dog food and a calendar??

They should hand out a different kind of sticker when you leave the store... a "smiley" that's NOT smiling and has eyes bugging out of its head in shock. Or complimentary Kleenex to dry your tears... that would work, too.

I miss my husband.

Today was the first full day Nick has been gone, and I'm already sad and missing him.

What are the chances I'll survive 6 months (at least) of this?!?!

It's my blogiversary! Gimme some love.

Well, kind of... it was actually yesterday.

Two years ago, I started this fun little blog... I had no clue what I was doing (and still don't), and I didn't think anyone would actually read it anyway. I'm still not sure WHO visits my little space on the Web... other than the chosen few who reveal themselves via comments every so often! I know that someone is visiting (and from what general geographic area you're visiting from), because my nifty tracker tells me so. But, seriously, I know a lot of people in the D.C. area and I'm quite certain I know no one in The Netherlands... so the nifty tracker isn't all that helpful after all, darn it.

So, in honor of my 2nd blogiversary, do me a favor and come out of lurkdom and post a comment. I promise it won't hurt... it'll only take 2 seconds of your time and will absolutely make my day (I'm so easy to please).

And if you feel silly posting "Hi, I'm here" and need more of a purpose to persuade you to comment... then tell me what you love and/or hate about my blog and what you'd like to see more of here (sorry, Ellen, I don't HAVE any naked pictures of Jon Bon Jovi... pick something else). Pretty please?!?!

"Free time?" What's that?!?!

My sister-in-law left a comment on my last post asking what I did with my "free time" while Avery was in school yesterday. This really made me laugh.

Free time? Seriously??

I don't think I've had "free time" in, ohhh, about 6 years, 7 months, and 20 days (but who's counting?).

Yesterday might have been considered "free time" if I were actually a stay-at-home mom. Although, even then, I'm sure the day would've been filled with vacuuming dog hair, washing dirty dishes, scrubbing toilets, and making sure everyone has clean underwear (we moms are sooo lucky, huh?).

But, alas! I'm NOT a stay-at-home mom. Now, pay attention, this is where it gets tricky... I'm a WORK-at-home mom. I know that everyone who knows and loves me KNOWS that I work from home. But sometimes (okay, quite often actually) I wonder if they know what that means...

Granted, I don't have a commute and I can work in my jammies (both huge benefits of working from home)... but I do have real work, real deadlines, real clients, and (thankfully) real paychecks.

What I don't have is an office to escape to (and do my work in)... away from my husband, kids, dogs, laundry, dishes, knocks on the door, etc. Until yesterday, I'd never had a block of time to devote to my work... my "9 to 5" is usually more like an "8 to midnight (or later)." Also until yesterday, I'd never had daycare or a babysitter (other than Miss Trish who was a Godsend for a couple of months!)... I've worked with one or two children underfoot, screaming, whining, crying, vomiting, or begging me to play for the past, ohhhh, 6 years, 7 months, and 20 days (but who's counting?).

So, yesterday, I didn't actually HAVE any "free time." I did have a whopping 6 hours without the loud, curious, ever-hungry 3 year old. I spent the majority of those 6 hours working, doing laundry, and missing that little person.

Avery's first day of school!

And, of course, she had a wonderful day!

Before Damon started Pre-K, I worried about him adjusting to school... since he'd been home with me for 4.5 years before then. He did fine and I needn't have worried, but Damon always had that kind of personality, where I wasn't really SURE how he'd react.

Avery, on the other hand, is no mystery. She's a social butterfly through and through, and I never once doubted that she'd love going to "school."

I woke her up this morning at 7:30am... EARLY for Avery, who likes to sleep in like her mommy! She started to grumble when I disturbed her peaceful slumber, until I asked, "Are you ready to go to school today??" That was all it took. She jumped up out of the bed, all smiles.

We were dressed, fed, groomed, packed up and ready to leave in no time flat. In fact, we were AHEAD of schedule. So, Avery spent 15 minutes standing by the door with her backpack on and her lunchbox in hand saying, "Mommmmm, can we just GO already?!?!?" "Mom, I'm ready to go to schooooool now!"

She didn't cast a backward glance when I dropped her off.

And, this afternoon, Avery's teacher reported that she was wonderful all day. Mrs. Diane said that she kept forgetting Avery was a "new kid" in the class... because she just fit in and followed along with the class so well.

All in all, I'd say school was a success!! She'll go back on Friday, and I'm sure it'll be another wonderful day. And the best part: Avery seems verrrrrry tired and mellow this evening. I don't think we're going to have ANY trouble getting her to sleep tonight! Hallelujah!!

A wonderful, horrible day

Today the kids and I spent the afternoon visiting one of Damon's school friends and his family.

When we woke up this morning, it was gray and rainy and blah outside. But, by the time we arrived at Ian's house, the sun was shining and it turned out to be a simply gorgeous day!

You know how in every neighborhood there seems to be ONE house where all of the neighborhood kids congregate to play, eat, hang out, etc.? Well, that would be Ian's house! They have an awesome yard for the kids to play kickball/football, a super cool treehouse, and even a Power Wheels Jeep! Ian also has two older siblings... and Avery absolutely fell in love with Ian's 14-year-old sister today. I seriously didn't SEE Avery all afternoon (but Ian's sister saw plenty of her, I'm sure, lol).

So, the kids were having a blast playing with other kids, while I enjoyed some adult conversation and yummy coffee (and brownies!) with Ian's mom and grandma.

All was right with the world... and THEN...

My son did something really stupid. He was up in the treehouse and one of the neighborhood kids was standing below. The boys had been playing for a while, throwing things at each other from up in the treehouse... things like pine cones and bouncy balls, and other harmless objects that don't hurt when they're hurled down at you from high above in the trees.

Next thing I knew, Damon threw something down (looked like a fluffy stuffed animal to me at the time) and it hit the neighborhood boy below. Boy Below then grabs his face and starts screaming bloody murder. NOT a good sign.

Turns out Damon had thrown a broom (minus the handle) at Boy Below. I hope that Damon was thinking the broom looked soft enough not to harm anyone (I really have to tell myself this to keep from completely breaking down). But, as luck would, or wouldn't, have it... the one hard, plastic piece on the broom (where the handle screws in) hit Boy Below right above his eye. It wasn't pretty... at all. Boy Below ended up in the Emergency Room this afternoon; luckily, he didn't need stitches, but he does have a nice gash in his head and I'd guess a pounding headache tonight.

In my almost seven years as a mother, I've never felt so horrible and embarrassed and mortified because of something my kid has done. I also had absolutely no idea how to handle this situation... what do you say, what do you do, how do you punish, etc.??

I'm pretty sure that tonight the Boy Below and his mother have almost forgotten about Damon and his tongue-tied, blushing idiot of a mother... they're probably over this and moving on with their lives. Meanwhile, I'm still horrified and guilt-ridden and wondering if I am, in fact, the worst mother on the planet... and if my child is really a monster under that too cute facade.

Tonight, I attempted to have a talk with Damon about what happened today... and after our "talk," I asked him to give me a hug. The hug was definitely more for me than him. I held onto him longer than I probably should have... and I cried, quietly (6 year olds get really freaked out when they think they've made their mom cry, I've learned!). I cried because I love that little guy more than I ever dreamed possible (even if he does have an evil streak, lol), and watching him grow up, and make mistakes in the process, is absolutely heartbreaking.

Damon is only 6 years old, and his mistakes are fairly "little" mistakes. God help me in 10 years. I hope they have my room ready at the funny farm...

The next chapter in my marriage to a cute and cuddly redneck...

I know I haven't blogged in a while... but it's not because I haven't thought about it!

I've just been putting off this post for some reason. Mostly because I didn't want Nick's family (or my own, for that matter) to learn the news via my blog (how tacky is that??). But I think just about everyone has been informed at this point (and if you haven't, I apologize, but this is where the blog does come in handy, eh? tacky or not, lol).

No, I'm not pregnant. We "fixed" that years ago (literally), so you'll never hear THAT kind of news on my blog. *sigh of relief*

But, Nick has a new job. Now that he has the coveted CDL, he's signing on with a major trucking company and going to drive OTR (over the road) for a while. Which means he's not going to be home much... at all.

One week from today, he heads off to training for 2 weeks. He'll get to spend a weekend at home after training before he heads out on the open road! As an OTR driver, he'll be gone for 2 weeks and then home for 2 days. So, not much home time...

I've been trying to mentally prepare myself for this for the past week or so. On one hand, I'm really excited about this opportunity for Nick. He worked so hard to get his CDL, and this job is a great reward! He should make VERY decent money and he'll get full benefits, etc. So, those are all good things!

On the other hand, my husband is *leaving* next week and will only be home 4 days a month for the next however many months (hopefully, this OTR thing will only last approx. 6 months; then he can get a "dedicated" account, which will put him home a lot more). I keep telling myself that I can do ANYTHING for 6 months... no matter how horrible it turns out to be. And I'm really trying to stay positive... "think happy thoughts!"

Of course, I'm also worried about how the kids are going to handle Daddy being gone so much. Nick has always been a very involved dad... and the kids adore him and are used to having him HERE.

We have a lot to do around the house this week before Nick leaves... he's doing all of the "manly man" chores so that, with any luck, I won't have to do them while he's gone. I've grown VERY accustomed to having a handy husband around to change lightbulbs, take out the trash, plunge the toilet, and dispose of dead mice (of course he's leaving RIGHT at the beginning of "mouse season"). *shudder*

So, keep your fingers crossed that a week from today I'll be able to kiss my husband goodbye and wish him well, with a smile on my face and my head held high. The alternative is that I completely break down in the "ugly cry" and beg him not to go... "Please don't leave me alone with these devilish children. Noooooooo!!!!"

Stay tuned... it's sure to be a wild ride!

The First Week

I know I never came back with the update re: Damon's first day of school... but, well, I don't really have much to tell you about his first day (let alone his first week) of school, because the child doesn't communicate well.

I honestly don't have a clue how his first week was or what he does in school all day long. I feel as if I'm on that "need to know" program here, and apparently Damon doesn't think there's much that I need to know about his hours at school. Hmpf.

I do know that Damon thinks it's sinful that they can't go to Gym class all day, every day. I don't think he really understands the purpose of school yet... he gets upset when they spend time doing WORK in the classroom. Poor thing. It's going to be a long 12 years or more...

He also seems very disturbed that they no longer get a snack in the afternoon. It is TOUGH being a First Grader, I'm tellin' ya!

Better than Christmas!

Apparently the first day of school for a first-grader is exciting stuff!

Last night Damon had trouble falling asleep. Well, he ALWAYS has trouble falling asleep, but last night was worse than usual. After 2.5 hours, he told me that he was just too excited about school and he couldn't sleep. I told him to try and think about something else, and he said he just couldn't... he'd TRY to think of something else and then school would pop up in his mind again. I suggested that he try counting... his response to this was a huge sigh and a major display of eye-rolling, and then he said, "Nevermind, Mom." (I swear, the counting thing really DOES work!)

Damon finally fell asleep, probably somewhere around midnight.

Then, at 5am, I woke up to find him sitting at the foot of my bed... just staring at me. ACK!

"Damon, WHAT are you doing? It's 5 o'clock in the morning... you need to get back to sleep."

"Isn't it time to go to school yet, Mom??"

Dear Lord. No, no no no no no. 5am is NOT time to go to school. The sun is not even up at 5am; the stupid dogs aren't even up at 5am. We are NOT supposed to be awake at 5am.

So, I escorted this delusional child back to his bed for at least 2 more hours of sleep. However, I don't think he went back to sleep. He just laid in there, waiting to hear an alarm clock or the pitter patter of his father's feet, signaling the start of the day.

Nick drove Damon to school this morning... and unlike a lot of my friends who are crying on the first day of school this year because their babies are leaving the nest, I can honestly say that I was HAPPY to see them go! Buh-bye, love you, I'll pick you up this afternoon, have a good day, be good, listen to your teacher... and all that jazz. And I have thoroughly enjoyed the past hour of peace and quiet (because Avery is still sleeping).

Here are a few pics of Damon right before he darted out of the house (and probably hyperventilated on the drive to school):

Stay tuned... I'll post again tonight and give a full report of Damon's first day of first grade!