My Couch is an Island.

I am feeling the kind of sick that requires a retreat to the island of my living room couch. My shield is a queen sized comforter with puffy crocheted roses all over it. My landing strip is a pile of pillows. I am also feeling the kind of sick that requires copious amounts of cranberry juice (IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN) and an equal amount of mindless magazine reading. My insides feel blech.

No leader's retreat for me. Boo. I am under the weather. Ezra is suddenly convinced my stomach is a trampoline, and this is not helping things ONE BIT.

My husband picked up the latest 'Lucky' magazine at the store for me as he was filling a prescription or two for himself, for what appears to be... shingles? Maybe? Doc said it was either that or a bug bite. Chris has been complaining of an itchy back/side for DAYS and DAYS now- begging me to scratch his back softly and listen to him talk about HOW MUCH IT ITCHES for long periods of time. Every day begins and ends with a recap of his itchy plight- how it has moved a little to the right, or is getting more intense. I smile politely and nod. I find that listening to someone talk about an itch for multiple days in a row reminds me faintly of Chinese Water Torture.

Drip.
Drip.
Drip.

I try to be supportive. My poor hubby is in a lot of discomfort. I try to suppress my inner punk. Meanwhile, my insides feel like they are slowly turning into what's left behind after the tide goes out. So I sip more cranberry juice and hunker farther down into the blankets, counting the hours to Ezra's naptime.

While at the store, Chris also picked up a cool new plastic gun toy for Ezra. It shoots these colorful foam discs, and Ezra thinks it's the best thing since sliced cookies. I am grateful for the entertainment it provides for him as the rainbow discs buzz by my head every now and then.

Buzz.
Buzz.
Buzz.

It is finally nap time. Ezra gathers up his disc gun, his yellow school bus toy that he is borrowing from the neighbors, and a mini light-up sword. These are the toys that will have the honor of sharing his bed with him this afternoon. The "chosen ones", if you will. He lines them up just how he wants them on his blanket, and then proceeds to shoot at all the people in the bus with his disc gun. Then he pokes them for awhile with his sword.

Poke.
Poke.
Poke.

I sneak out of his room and fall back into the couch. Sweet relief. No more trampoline tummy. I think I'll put in a movie. It will most likely be 'You've Got Mail' (because that's the movie I ALWAYS put in), or 'Sliding Doors'. I could watch these movies over and over again. These, and also: 'Elf' and 'The Royal Tenenbaums'.

I shake out my comforter to re-position it on the couch. As the blanket billows, it pushes three colorful little foam discs upwards in the air towards my head- like confetti left over from a New Year's party.

****

In other (equally riveting) news, this is what I wore yesterday:



I liked it because it was comfy, and it had the perfect light layering pieces for the Fall edge in the air.

A Mayberry kind of Life.

I got up this morning with a stomach ache due to a night of toss-and-turn stress & worry. Sometime in the wee hours of the night, I woke up and suddenly realized that, hey! Bringing Ezra to the leader's retreat this weekend is sooooooo not going to work at all! What was I thinking? Have I completely lost my mind? Have I forgotten that I own a toddler? A toddler who would make a 'retreat' of organized workshops/worship times feel more like a disaster of biblical proportions? And also, where have my sunglasses disappeared to? Did I leave them on that park bench last week?

So, I didn't get much sleep. And I've been stressed out all day- pretty much resigning myself to the fact that I will no longer be attending the retreat that I have been desperately looking forward to all these weeks. And whose fault is this again? MINE. I suck at forward thinking. I suck at planning ahead. I'm utter crap when it comes to an organized, scheduled lifestyle. I'm much more of a 'fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants' kind of gal, which works GREAT as long as you don't have to do things like arrange for childcare or become a responsible adult before you one day realize you're 30 years old and still bringing your laundry to mom's house on the weekends.

(Not that there's anything wrong with that. No, wait, there IS something really wrong with that. Moving on...)

As of now, I'm trying not to dive headlong into Lake Pity Me, but I'm definitely cooling my toes in its waters and contemplating a quick dip. Having a child requires a lot of sacrifice. And living a life of unorganized chaos makes one tired. And late for things. (That is assuming, of course, that one remembers to show up at all.)

Really, I'm okay with sacrifice for the most part. But when the sacrifice is required simply because I FORGOT to actually think practically about what it would look like to drag Ezra along on a retreat- a retreat that Chris and I are meant to be leading worship for- then the sacrifice becomes much more difficult to bear. Because it's served with a heaping side of shame and embarrassment, and a nice tall glass of 'It's Nobody's Fault But Your Own'.

So, for now, it looks like I will be staying home while Chris goes to the retreat. (Drums are much more important than Background Vocals, so, he goes and I stay.) I will most likely spend the weekend nursing my wounds and repeatedly kicking myself in the buttocks. (Metaphorically speaking, of course. I'm not that limber.)

Can I end by just saying, for the record, that I miss the days when life moved at a much slower pace? When cell phones were non-existent, and if someone wasn't home you just left a message? I don't feel like I'm cut out for this rat-race world. I feel like I was cut from a different cloth. I think that life, for the most part, should be pretty kicked back and relaxed. I don't want to feel like I'm a bad person simply because my day planner isn't my best friend. I don't think it's healthy or good for someone to be expected to answer the phone 24/7, just because it fits in their pocket. I'm not saying I think it's okay to be irresponsible, of course, but I just don't think we're meant to live and work under such constant NOISE, such uninterrupted hustle & bustle.

Maybe that is all just a cop-out on my part, but I just personally liked it when the world seemed much larger... when things were less instantaneous, and you waited eagerly by your mailbox for a response from your penpal who lived halfway across the world- in a magical land called Phoenix, Arizona.

It reminds me of a slogan I saw written on the side of a building up in Kansas City a couple of weeks ago. It was a store that sold perscription eye-glasses. This slogan really stuck with me and brought a whispered "Amen" to my lips when I drove by it. It said:

"We promise to take more than one hour on your glasses!"

Preach it, mom and pop eyeglass shop! Way to take a stand against the Walmarts of the world! Oh, and BTW, do you validate?

Credit Card Fraud Inspires Me.

Today's trip to the library was extra magical. The quick walk turned into adventure after adventure for my small boy in his big world. As soon as we stepped outside, we spotted a big, shiny, red firetruck parked in front of a hydrant at the end of our street. Ezra started yelling and waving and squealing as three firemen hopped out of the truck. They were checking all of the hydrants in our neighborhood- opening them up so that water gushed out with so much force that it completely traversed the road and drenched the yard across the street from where it sat planted in the ground like a big, red thumb. The firemen were busy, working hard, so they didn't see Ezra's desperate attempts to catch their attention. We were still a ways up the street from where they were.

They hopped back in their truck and pulled away. Ezra didn't have time to feel sad, however, because a big, fat, gluttonous garbage truck pulled up the street just then. We marveled at the size (and smell) of the thing and passed through it's rumbling shadow. We waved. The garbage men waved. Ezra beamed.

Then we saw a small, yappy dog. Yip! Yip! Ezra turned to look at me and said, with hands turned upwards in a questioning manner, "Who Dat?!" I found this quite humorous.

We came to another little intersection in the neighborhood and we were just crossing through it, when the firetruck showed up again. Another hydrant to check. Ezra again started waving so desperately that I thought his arm might fall off.

This time, the three firemen jumped out of the truck and spotted my little guy right away. They smiled and waved back almost as enthusiastically as Ezra was waving to them. I stopped and turned the stroller so that Ezra could see what they were doing to the hydrants, and the firemen played it up for Ezra- acting like the water was knocking them off of their feet over and over again.

Ezra laughed hysterically. I giggled. We smiled and waved some more and continued on our way to the library.

We picked out some new books, and brought them to the checkout. I paid my 40 cent fee for the last book that I turned in late. (Oops.) Then we played at the park for awhile before heading back home.

The sky over our heads was a shocking electric blue.

******************************

Chris called a bit later to tell me that the bank called and told him they thought someone had been using our credit card fraudulently. There were 4 separate transactions that came through today for $100-$200 each. Each transaction was from different grocery stores. Grocery stores that we don't shop at.

The credit card company said someone probably had a fake card. Chris and I don't use that card anymore- two weeks ago Chris cut up the cards and threw them away. Someone maybe found the cards and pieced them together and got the number off of them and then ordered a new card or something? I don't know. We canceled the cards and just have to fill out some paperwork.

I don't know- I am not upset or angry about it at all. Maybe I'm just incredibly naive, but I can't help thinking that there might be someone out there who has groceries in their house right now for the first time in a really long time. Heck, if our money helped buy someone some FOOD, some GROCERIES, then I really couldn't be happier about it, you know?

I will never really know just what that money was spent on. All I really DO know is that I want so desperately to live a life that overflows with generosity and compassion, a life with doors wide open- where all that I have is not really mine- but I feel like I never know just where to start with that, so I end up doing nothing at all. Like cement boots of love. They are there, on my feet, but they don't move too easy, too often.

I'd like to think that if someone came up to me and asked me to help them buy food, I wouldn't hesitate to give them all that I could. If I knew who it was that was using our card, I would want to ask them if there was anything else I could do to help them out. Jesus said "turn the other cheek", "share your coat", "if someone asks you to walk a mile with them , walk TWO". Isn't that beautiful? I want to be the kind of person who genuinely respects and honors people, no matter who they are or where they've been, because, really, who am I to judge anyone? We're all human beings, and we're all equally loved. Simple as that.

I want to be more compassionate, empathetic, una-frickin-fraid of the human condition.

And if some stolen numbers off of a little piece of plastic can help push the doors of my life open a little more, then I'm grateful for it.

Every person in this world is fiercely loved. I want to see people as God sees them. I'm tired of boxing myself up in my comfy little house and then pretending that that's okay. There are people right here in this community that need HELP, that need a compassionate ear, a soft shoulder, or a nice warm hug. People who need clothing and food and diapers. If the doors to my life were wide open, I would be able to see and hear these requests coming from the streets right outside my door. When they are shut tight, I can't hear or see anything.

I want Ezra to see his mom and dad living these things out daily.

I want him to know that a life with a wide open door is better, simply because it lets in more light.

Calling All Oklahomans!

Say whaa?!

I just discovered that I've been nominated for 'Best Family Blog' in the 2007 Oklahoma Blog Awards. Woo woo! I'm SO excited!! Thanks to those who nominated me!

So, if you are a blogger and you LIVE in the state of Oklahoma, click here to vote for meeee!!!!

I must confess, however, I don't think I stand a chance.... heh.

Something is in the Air.

I stepped outside today and felt something really strange. It was a sensation that I have not had in a long time, so I was completely taken aback by it.

I felt a COOL, DRY (!) breeze gently blowing against my skin. And I felt cold.

Fall showed up today. And I pray that it stays for a long, long while. Instantly after stepping outside today, I had a strong urge to go buy a pumpkin. And drink apple cider. As a compromise, I brought out my Body Shop Cranberry Home Fragrance Oil, and heated some up so my house would smell like Fall incarnate. I opened windows. And, my neighbor and I grabbed the kiddos and headed to the park down the street where Ezra displayed his mad skillz by repeatedly going down the slide with his eyes closed. What pizazz!

I feel so happy today, because I know that an end to the humid, heat-soaked days is in my sights...




*******************

Last night, after Ezra went to bed, Chris and I started working on background vocals for Joel's latest album that they just recorded in Kansas City a couple of weeks ago. We decided that the occasion called for some diva shots.





We were convinced of our hilarity. Absolutely CONVINCED. Although, now, looking back after a good night's sleep, perhaps we were mistaken?

*************************

In other news, I finally spent my online Target gift card that my brother and his wife got me for my 25th b-day. I got these two things:




A chocolate brown duvet cover, and a pair of shoes.

I am so excited to get them in the mail. And, can I just say, I have NO idea what has come over me lately as far as shoes are concerned? I have NEVER EVER EVER been a "shoe girl". The extent of my interest in shoes used to be that I would replace my cheapy flipflops with another pair of cheapy flipflops after they disintegrated off of my feet. I never cared much about shoes. So, what's with the sudden shoe fascination?! I don't usually have a whole lot of extra cash to actually buy shoes, but I LOVE to look at them and imagine buying them- I love to imagine strutting around town with them hugging my feet.

I feel like I talk about shoes on this blog almost as much as I talk about diet coke. Has it really come to this?

Is this merely a rite of passage that all women must go through in order to reach true adulthood? Is it really true that ALL WOMEN love shoes? I never used to believe it. But now, I'm not so sure.

I never thought I'd say it. But, I love shoes. They make me weak in the knees! (some of the taller varieties, quite literally.)

Ezra + Ethan = Bestest Buddies on the Block

Chris and I met some friends, Steve & Erin, at the park the other day for a playdate. Ezra and their little boy Ethan have a BLAST whenever they get together. Erin is a great photographer, as well, and she was kind enough to snap some shots of the kids and send them my way.

Whenever I look at these photos I practically go BLIND from the excessive levels of cute. So, be warned.

Project: Organize!

This weekend's unexpected project was the complete transformation of the bedroom closets. They were getting so bad that I considered buying a roll of yellow 'Caution' tape to mark them off with and calling it good. We began the weekend by searching for a new dresser to stuff more stuff in, but then my brilliant husband pointed out that, um, we have no ROOM for another dresser, and hey! Look at all this unused space in the closet! (Dur!)

So, he hauled himself off to Lowe's after I begged and pleaded that he go get some new closet organization systems. I knew it would help me feel less cluttered in my mind if I could get those two closets under control. I needed an organizational project like this for my restless mind this weekend, and I was thrilled when Chris agreed to do all the hard work so that I could primly place things in order on my new shelves.

My husband believes in doing things right and well and thouroughly the FIRST time around, so this little project quickly became a two day fiasco for us. We (from henceforth, please note that by "we", I mean "CHRIS".) had to pull out the old shelving, patch the walls where the shelving had been, prime the wall and baseboards, and then completely re-paint the insides of both closets. Then 'we' had to measure off the shelving while doing complicated math formulas to scale the measurements in the instruction manuals from an 8 foot closet space to a measly FIVE FOOT SIX-ish closet space. After that, 'we' had to CUT all the shelving with a hacksaw so that it would squeeze into our itty bitty closet space. All that was left after that was the complicated assembly.

The results:

Our bedroom closet, BEFORE.


All the insides of our closet, on the outside.


Handy AND sexy.


The new shelving.


Our bedroom closet, AFTER.

Now, on to Ezra's closet results:

OKay, I wasn't able to get a before pic of Ezra's closet, but picture all of this stuff piled precariously in a tiny closet- where Ezra couldn't get to any of his toys without help from mom or dad.


Chris working hard on Ezra's closet after we put Ezra down for his nap in our bedroom.


Ezra's closet, AFTER.


And, as an extra bonus, I was able to rearrange Ezra's bookshelf a bit too.


After all of this hard work, I feel like my house is somehow lighter, brighter, cleaner. I feel like I can breathe easier again. Ezra has been playing happily on his own in his room all morning because he can (imagine this!) REACH HIS OWN TOYS! What a concept!

So, I'd like to send an extra special THANK YOU to my husband for all his hard work and patience this weekend. I love my new closets!

Mode of Transport.

It's one in the morning and sleep is eluding me like chasing after an important piece of paper that's gotten away from you on a windy day. It's right there, but every time I lunge for it, it moves just beyond my reach.

My tummy grumbles loudly. Chris shifts in his sleep. I am now convinced my tummy possesses the power to disturb slumber, so I wander into the living room and grab the laptop.

The room is dark, the screen is bright... My own personal spotlight. I should be asleep. I'm not. I browse Target's website, looking for storage bins for our new closet configuration in our bedroom. (pictures soon.) I fill my little red shopping cart icon with storage bin after storage bin, only to remove them minutes later. This is exactly how I shop in real life, too. Interesting.

I smile as I recall the antics of my son from earlier in the evening. Chris, Ezra and I stopped in at the Goodwill down the street earlier today. We were looking for a dresser for our bedroom. A bigger dresser than the one we have now.

Because, we need more room.

Because, between the two of us, we have enough clothing to completely bury the island of Manhattan.

So, we popped in to see if they had anything that could hold such capacity, but they didn't. It's hard to find a good dresser for a small amount of money. Trust me, I've been searching for one for months. I asked Chris why he thought it might be so difficult, and he replied simply "Because why would you ever get rid of a good dresser?"

Ah, yes. Good point.

We were in the Goodwill for only a handful of moments before Ezra casually rounded a clothing rack and spotted it. It was just sitting there, basking in the gloriousness of all its glory.

Red. Yellow. A Little Tykes Cozy Coupe car, peeking out from underneath the children's overalls section.

He gasped so hard that everyone within a four rack radius turned sharply to see what was so incredibly astounding. I worried that he'd finally managed to swallow a lung. He moved quicker than I have ever seen him move. He was in that car so fast, it was as if he'd been running for his life. Like a wild pack of vacuum cleaners was hot on his trail. The startled looks from nearby onlookers simultaneously softened into smiles. An older gentleman looked at me, chuckled, and said, "SOLD." This big, plastic, Ezra-sized vehicle was only minutes away from being stuffed into our car. And this man knew it.

I laughed because I knew it too. Ezra drove the car all over the store for the next 20 minutes- completely stoned on the freedom that came from pushing that car up and down the isles of the poorly lit thrift shop. The wind in his hair. The flourecent light on his face...

So, we brought the mustard and ketchup colored monstrosity home with us. For just five dollars, Ezra's infinite happiness was sealed.

I didn't see much of Ezra for the rest of the day/evening. All I could see was the yellow top of the car zooming by me every few minutes, and all I could hear was the squeak! squeak! of the little horn as it passed by. Ezra and his car were inseparable.

This was cute and all, but it also made nap time difficult. And trying to get him to use the potty difficult. And dinnertime difficult. And bath time difficult. And putting on pajamas difficult. And brushing his teeth difficult. Bedtime? It was DIFFICULT.

He flat refused to get out of the thing without a fight. You'd have thought I was trying to separate salt from water. With my bare hands. It was that difficult.

I really would have begun to loathe the Cozy Coupe if he didn't look so darn cute in it. He would drive it from the piano to the TV (a whopping 15 feet or so), then he would open the door, solemnly get out of the car, stand there for a second or two, and then proceed to get back in the car so that he could then drive from the TV back to the piano. He did this for a VERY LONG TIME. And the whole time, he was talking to himself. And you could tell that he'd pretty much found heaven on earth in his new mode of transportation.

He didn't seem to see that the plastic was all faded and the vibrant colors had long gone. He didn't see all the scratches or the missing sticker decals. He didn't even see all the places it looked like the car had been CHEWED ON BY A DOG... He saw nothing but four sturdy wheels and the open road.

(An open road that looked a whole lot like our living room.)

(I long for that kind of ignorance in my own life- Like, so what if I'm scratched and faded in spots and bruised and missing my original, shiny decals? I'm still breathing, aren't I? Did God himself not say that he uses the WEAK things of the world to confound the STRONG? The faded jalopies will always win the race! Go, jalopies, GO!)

I marveled at my child this evening. He's gotten taller. Older. Less toddler, more BOY. I thought forward to the day when he'd be driving away in a real car- a car that would take him much farther than our living room piano. And I couldn't help but wonder-

Will I feel the same mixture of awe and sorrow then as I do now? Awe at how fast time goes by? Sorrow at... how fast time goes by? And, without the confines of the living room walls to box him in, just how far will this boy go?

So, I stop. I stop and I pray that nothing will ever become large enough to hold him back from his journey.

And, while I'm at it, I pray that for me, too.

My Boy is a Mini-Urb.

Today has been much better than yesterday, thankyoujesusforyouaregood.

It was Co-Op Day, so, happy happy joy joy!! I am in a co-op with a few other moms, and every Friday two of the moms watch all of the kids at someone's house while the other mommies gallavant off through the town. From 9AM to 1PM. That's 4 hours of un-Ezra-fied bliss, people. FOUR HOURS. That's just about enough time to do anything I darn well please!

So, every week (when it's not my turn to stay and watch the kids), I pump myself up about how I'm going to drop Ezra off and then drive straight back home to clean the house from top to bottom. Yet somehow, every week, before I even know what has happened, I find myself standing in a Goodwill, or some other such place of thrifty fabulousness, wandering the isles like a woman with too much free time on her hands. And then, today, after wandering around in a thrift store for a ridiculous amount of time, I drove to Ross and wandered around in there. And then I drove myself over to a bookstore and wandered some more!

It was glorious.

I got absolutely nothing done. I spent a little of my left over birthday money that's been burning a hole in my pocket for two months now. I got Ezra some cute new threads. I picked up a gift for a friend.

I took deep breaths and appreciated my time to myself. Before I knew it, it was time to go pick Ezra up again. But the wonderful thing about co-op days is that as soon as you get home, it's nap time! So, Ezra is sleeping soundly and I'm enjoying the silence as I type and look out my window at the darkening sky. It's going to rain. I love the rain more than I love Diet Coke. Which is a whole lot.

(BTW- I did not cave yesterday and drink a soda. Although, Megan's comment on my last post almost sent me over the edge. 'Just one! It's a treat! I deserve it!' All very true, but instead I opted to eat a bowl of Raisin Bran. It just wasn't the same.)

Would you like to see the goods that I got today as I wandered from store to store? Okay!

First, here are Ezra's thrift finds:


And no, Ezra is neither Italian nor Texan, and come to think of it, he isn't a Summit Eagle, either. But he sure does look cute in cheap clothes that claim he is! Also, how cute is that little plaid vest I found? And that purple collared shirt? He's going to look, like, OMG, soooo mini-Urb! ("mini-Urb"= Urban Outfitter's fashion, only pint sized.)

Next, momma's new goodies:

The super cute tank dress was only $4.99 at Ross. Sometimes I wonder why I bother to shop anywhere else. That bag I found there too- just the bag I've been hunting for for the past couple of months. I'm smitten with it. The big, gaudy elastic belt is from Goodwill. It's going to look awesome paired with some of my dresses and my brown suede boots this Fall. Wee haw!

So, all in all, it's been a great day. Tonight, we're going to a dear friend's birthday bash/BBQ, where I will eat too much and probably acquire 300 more mosquito bites on my legs.

Did you know that the mosquito is the official State Bird of Oklahoma?

What's that? You say it's NOT the state bird?

Well, IT SHOULD BE.

In Which I Vent.

Today has been a rough day, which (I am glad to say) is the first in a very long time. Ezra has been extremely whiny and sensitive- if I even look at him the wrong way, he starts wailing and crying and flailing on the ground. He's been clingy too, not wanting to let me out of his sight all. day. long.

He has been sticking his fingers in his mouth NON STOP the last few days, and I'm worried that his teeth are bothering him. They don't seem to hurt him when he eats or anything, but why else would he be sticking his fingers in there? I don't think he's teething because I'm pretty sure he's had all of his teeth for quite some time now, but what do I know? I look in his mouth and see... um, some teeth. There's hardly enough time to COUNT how many are in there, because Ezra can only sit still for like 4 milliseconds.

I took him to the store earlier today with my neighbor and her daughter, and he was doing fine until we let the kids play with the train tables they had in the store. Ezra is usually SO good at sharing and playing well with other kids, but today he was freaking out the whole time and getting really possessive about the toys. I told him if he couldn't play nicely, we were going to have to leave. He continued to flip out, so I stuck him back in the cart to go home and he was crying so hard he started to cough like he might throw up. I was trying to calm him down, but he just wouldn't stop. I was poking around in his mouth to see if I could see any teeth that might be bothering him, and he bit down on my thumbnail so hard that I saw stars and almost screamed in pain.

I didn't know whether to be pissed about it or if it was my fault for sticking my finger in there, but I just felt so upset about it all that I almost started crying too.

The somewhat humorous part of all of this was that the young girl checking me out at the register was pregnant, and she was looking at Ezra and I with this look of masked horror. I was that mom. Haha!

So, yeah. A rough day.

To top it all off, I started to think about this leader's retreat we're meant to be going to next weekend, and I'm realizing that Ezra is going to have to be with us due to lack of grandparents within a bajillion mile radius, but Chris and I are both meant to be helping lead worship for the weekend, and how do you successfully do that with a two and a half year old running amok? Hmmm? I started to get all stressed about it for some reason, and I just haven't been able to calm back down. I know it will all work out fine, but if I could just figure out how EXACTLY it will all work out, then maybe I could convince my brain to CHILL OUT ALREADY.

It's been one of those days where you just need a good cry- something to let out all your frustration so that you'll instantly feel much better. But, at the same time, I don't feel like crying. (Perhaps I should go poke my finger in Ezra's mouth again? That'll get me going for sure!)

Also, Chris and I are supposed to practice tonight for an upcoming show with Shannon Horn, (do yourself a favor and CLICK ON THAT LINK. She's sooooo good!) but silly me didn't figure out the babysitting situation in time so now I will probably be stuck at home and not able to practice. Joy of joys. Days like this make me so jealous of the moms and dads who live by their parents. I know moving far away was our choice, but it's ridiculously hard and I just feel... jealous.

Anywho, I'm sorry for my venting post, but I do feel a little bit better after throwing this out there. I'm hoping that after Ezra's nap, things will calm down a bit and we can all just return to our regularly scheduled programming.

*sigh* I could sure go for a Diet Coke right about now. With a splash (or tidal wave) of rum in it.

Ah, well. Water will have to do!