Anyway, this is how everything turned out.

After obsessively checking for views re-reading old blog entries last week, I came to realize that a lot happened during my unplanned anxiety hiatus that I probably would have told you about if I hadn’t been so busy lying on my couch watching TV shows about people with botched plastic surgery. So before I jump right back in with well-spun tales of my exotic life (TODAY I FOUND A CUP FILLED WITH MILK SO SPOILED THAT IT HAD BASICALLY BECOME SENTIENT CHEESE), I thought I’d take a moment to catch you up on a few things.

  • After months of complaining about it, we finally did something about the lack of tumbleweeds of fur against our baseboards and got ourselves a dog. Her name is Penny and her hobbies include eating and subsequently pooping out socks, cat wrestling, and aggro-snuggling.

    Penny Coco

    Okay, so this is not exactly the best picture of her? But I feel it is an accurate representation of her daily life, and also a tender depiction of cross-species love.

  • In the time it took me to scrape myself back together, Addie finished kindergarten and first grade, and this year will be submitting her thesis on the rise of the novel in 18th century literature (I think that’s what you do in the second grade, right?). She is also still a Girl Scout, and has even camped out overnight, while I still have a panic attack every time I have to turn on the iron.

    Rosie, meanwhile, has not aged at all, nor hit any major milestones other than becoming super obsessed with the concept of growing boobies, so she’s got a lot going on right now, too.

    Rosie Bbs

    Rosie has been freeing the nipple since before freeing the nipple was cool.

  • Spoiler alert – I never lost any weight, and I forgot all the Spanish I learned, and my skin is worse than ever, but I did finally break down and start getting my hair professionally colored, so at least now I look like a complete mess with highlights.

    Stupid Arty Selfie

    This is supposed to be a super art-y selfie? But honestly I just sort of look like an elderly relative is talking to me about the importance of flood insurance. There is an alternate version with my mouth slightly ajar, like you see sexy ladies doing on Instagram, but on me it’s less flirty and more mentally unhinged.

  • Wow, okay, is this really all that has happened to me in the course of like 16 months? I really thought there would be more than this. I was counting on a whole big list of like awesome accomplishments and shit, but I cannot think of a single other thing. BASICALLY TWO BABIES COULD HAVE BEEN BORN IN THIS TIME AND ALL I DID WAS GET A DOG AND WATCH MY KID PROGRESS NATURALLY THROUGH GRADE LEVELS OH MY GOD ADULTHOOD IS A DEATH TRAP.
  • The other night I had a dream that I was riding the bus with President Obama, and he had full sleeve tattoos on both forearms, and one of the forearms just said OBAMA in really big ornate letters, and I was like, wow, one would not have guessed that he had these sleeve tattoos.
  • Oh! I went to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter! That’s a thing that is definitely cool that you probably didn’t get to do! So there! I’m still relevant!

Okay, so it turns out that you basically missed nothing. Now that we’re all caught up, I can move on to all of my latest and greatest exploits.  For the rest of 2017, it’s nothing but life-changing middle-aged-lady magic! I’m gonna climb some stuff! Maybe symbolically…burn something, I don’t know. I’m gonna impress the shit out of you with all my amazing life events!

I’m gonna start with some sleeve tattoos. Or maybe a nap.

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Back in business

You may have noticed that I’ve been away for the past three days. I mean, you probably didn’t, but there’s a small chance that you did. But fear not– I’m ready to get back in the saddle. A perfect storm of craziness hit here that sidelined me, including:

  • We went to see the Wild Kratts live, which deserves a post of its own, so I won’t elaborate much here, except to say that we didn’t get home until 10, and I was full of McDonald’s and the thrill of meeting Martin Kratt in person, and just couldn’t get it together enough to write anything.
  • My husband is out of town for the week, and I swear to God, my children have sensors inside them that detect the very second he leaves the Cleveland area for more than five minutes. Before he even would have been home from work that day normally, Addie and Rosie had entered MAXIMUM NEEDINESS MODE. After an evening in the park, two overly wrought bedtime routines, and Rosie’s furtive 3 a.m. visit to Netflix and Chill (which to her means “watch Daniel Tiger for three hours and eat gummies”), I was just spent.
  • Somehow, I ended up with food poisoning yesterday evening, leading to one of the most epic barfathons I have ever had the displeasure of participating in. Luckily, Addie and Rosie were able to suspend their utter disregard for my happiness or well-being for the night, but at the moment I still haven’t eaten anything in nearly 20 hours and am maintaining the absolute lowest limit of Gatorade in my stomach to keep me alive until this passes. I mean, I wanted a way to stay home and watch the new episodes of Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, but this wasn’t really what I was going for.
  • Quite frankly, I was starting to burn out. It turns out that after 90 days of blogging, it becomes really difficult to come up with new things to say that are still funny. By now, you probably get that my kids are both evil and hilarious, and that I am concerned about my weight, and that I was a giant dork until I turned 25 (at which point I remained a giant dork, but finally put some effort into my appearance and managed to shed my dork-like exterior). There are only so many times I can tell you that Rosie woke up in the middle of the night to get her Daniel Tiger fix (I’m referring to it as the DT’s), or that I don’t like sandwiches (although I’m probably never going to shut up about that, because you guys, sandwiches are an affront to humanity).

So as a result, I’m going to amend my original blog project as follows: I will blog every day no matter what, unless:

  1. I meet a celebrity, children’s or otherwise
  2. My children or my work prevent me from doing so
  3. I am hardcore barfing
  4. I just really, really don’t want to.

I’m hopeful that, having taken this little forced hiatus, you won’t see many more further interruptions, but going forward, I’m giving myself a little wiggle room, because no one wants to read a blog where every article is entitled “Time to write in this stupid fucking blog again”.

Operation: Kill Siri

Our children were bored today. You can tell when they’re bored, because instead of just destroying one small corner of the house, they go ahead and level the whole thing, unleashing what could only be described as a literal dirty bomb. Apparently the only thing that can relieve the sort of soul-deadening malaise they experience when Mommy and Daddy have to stop entertaining them for ten minutes is to drag out every single thing they’ve ever owned, inspect it, find it lacking, and discard it as far away from its original storage space as possible.

It would be easy for me to say that I never get bored– how can I, after all, when the children so thoughtfully provide me with so much cleaning to take care of?– and to be honest, I feel like at its heart, that’s true. When I’m not working, I’m taking care of the girls, or grabbing the rare adult conversation with my husband, or getting ready for the next day. I’ve added blogging and learning Spanish into the mix, so one would think I wouldn’t have a second to spare on being bored.

And I don’t, really, and yet somehow I’ve found a way to allow myself to get sucked into my phone, Tron-style, for hours every night for the past couple of weeks. It comes at the expense of sleep, of catching up on shows on which I’m woefully behind (NO ONE SPOIL IF IT TURNS OUT OJ KILLED NICOLE!), of reading and cross-stitching and sometimes, even those aforementioned rare and wonderful adult conversations. It’s like I spend so long every day in the “on” position that I’ve come to need that phone time to wind down.

But it doesn’t really count as winding down if you stay up until 2 am doing it.

I think I’ve somehow become on of those people that everyone hates– the phone addict. And I’m not even using it to do anything cool, like Instagram the Frosted Mini-Wheats I’ve eaten for dinner for the last week straight since Ben’s been out of town. It’s just an endless cycles between Facebook, Buzzfeed, Best Fiends (I am appalled at how many times I have mentioned Best Fiends on this blog, tbh) and, dorkily, Wikipedia, which I generally use to prove people wrong when I do manage to have a conversation with someone over the age of five.

So tonight, I’m going to start yet another new project– because honestly, I let the whole drinking water project just completely deteriorate, and I’m not getting all of my moisture from Oreo middles. The project itself is deceptively simple– stop looking at my damn phone. But I think it’s going to be a lot harder than it sounds,  which is embarrassing to admit. I’ve already moved my phone charger to the other side of my bedroom, so I won’t be able to gaze lovingly at Buzzfeed’s “19 Pictures That Only Make Sense if You’re a Professional Skateboarder With Only One Leg” article, which I will read while scratching my head and saying NONE OF THESE PICTURES MAKE ANY SENSE! When I get home, my phone will just stay in my purse, which will also solve the age-old problem of never knowing where my fucking phone is.

How will I fill the hours that the phone leaves behind? Hopefully with sleep, honestly. Some good conversation, a new book. I’ll be woefully behind on the world of random lists and pictures of celebrities that look like animals (I’m looking at you, otter Benedict Cumberbatch). But I do know one thing– I’ll never be bored.

(I can’t get no) Self-Control

I just ate what appears to be all the food in the entire universe, and I’m not feeling very good about myself right now.

Everything started out so well– I had a little turkey bacon and some coffee for breakfast, brought an apple for a snack, feeling very righteous and healthy and somewhat smug. Then cake pops suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and honestly, I think it might be against the law not to eat cake pops when they materialize for free right in front of you. Then we catered in Asian for lunch, and I’m not even sure if anyone else got to eat anything, as I stood directly in front of the containers and scooped the food directly into my mouth, and then when I was walking back to my desk I saw that there was an uneaten salt bagel sitting all by itself in a sad little almost empty bagel box, and that’s just a cruel thing to do to a salt bagel, so I brought it back to my desk in hopes of comforting it and making it feel like it was in a safe space, but then I forgot that that was my plan and I ate that, too, and I think I might actually be dying now, send help.

This lack of self-control is evident in many areas of my life, such as the area that stupidly thinks I will be able to eat only one handful of M & Ms, or the area that spends two hours reading Canadian memes on Buzzfeed. It’s the reason that I have to keep that app on my phone to remind me to drink water or go to sleep, without which I might start washing my face with Diet Pepsi and staying up until 5:00 a.m. searching for the perfect floral umbrella on Amazon.

I’ve never been one to exhibit excellent self-discipline– this would explain why I immediately stopped writing once I was no longer being graded on it. It might also explain why I have literally taken two breaks from writing this so far to play a game of Best Fiends on my phone. My guess is that David Sedaris doesn’t get distracted from his work by videos of baby sloths on the internet. I also assume he doesn’t eat an entire pound bag of Sunkist Fruit Gems in one sitting, but that’s probably true of most people.

Point is, this is obviously something I need to work on, but I have no idea how. What methods do you use to stay on task and keep disciplined? The pomodoro method? The shutting off the wifi method? The fuck it, eat all the things method? Actually, no need to provide any insights into that last one, as I have already mastered it.