Palm potting in the moonlight

Oh... it did it again.... put everything aside until the proverbial later, and then decide that I must make a gigantic gesture to try and rectify the situation so that I may give myself solice when it doesn't work out... and what am I referring to in that incredible long run-on sentence with big fluffy words? Well if you have hung on this long... follow me to the next paragraph.
Several months ago my sister blessed me with a ton of beautiful plants that she had obtained at a vendor show she put together for work. It was great. I would love to tell you their names but I can only some it up with 2 palms, 2 rose bushes, a bush that kinda looks like mexican heather, 2 spikey long leafy things with a big bloom out the center, and 2 roundy leafy things with blooms out the center. Great stuff. - pretty stuff - stuff I have no idea how to take care of, but they look great under my patio. She told me that I was going to have to re-pot them and I said great no problem. That was approximately 6 weeks ago. They sat in a beautiful little pile and slowly wilted day after day as I walked past them morning and night on the way to and from the car.
Now I wasn't exactly cruel. At one point they looked near death, I watered them and made a promise that the following weekend I would give them their new homes. That was about 3 weeks ago.
Well of course they were giving me the hospice look again yesterday and I knew that a big cold front with freezing temps was on the way, so I made a trip to my mother's to pick up some empty pots and headed to Walmart for some dirt... at 9 o'clock at night. Of course the garden center was closed, so I place five 40lb bags of dirt in my cart and head to the checkout. It is around this time when I realize... it's pretty quiet in the store, Mike's got the kids in bed already, and there's a couple of things I could pick up. So I proceed to (in work clothes and heels) push 200 lbs of dirt all over the mega Walmart picking up make-up, gifts, cornflakes, marshmellows and green food dye for cookies.
I get home to Mike cleaning the kitchen. I take a few bites of the dinner he is currently cleaning up and head to the bedroom. I return with grungy clothes on and start to head out the door.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“I am going to re-pot my plants…”
“It’s after 10:30?!?!”
“I am NOT going to lose those plants… they are worth a lot of money and it is supposed to freeze tomorrow night”
“WHAT THE….. whatever.”
“Are you coming?”
“I am cleaning the kitchen. I am going to clean the kitchen. I am going to finish the list of things I started today and I am not moving until I finish them.”
“Okay…I’ll start without you”
It is the last sentence that could very well have ended my marriage last night, but it didn’t. About 15 minutes later he wanders outside, pissy but willing. He gets his powerful light he uses in attics for work and proceeds to help me hoist 200 lbs of dirt into pots to save dead plants.

I love that man

We get it done, he cleans up and heads to the door and I turn in the opposite direction.

“What the hell are you doing now?”

“I’ve got to water them….”

“Goodnight…..”

“Goodnight!”

That's enough......

So I had a very full weekend. Up late on Saturday working on my friend Allison's drapes (they turned out gorgeous) and Sunday helped my mom prepare her house for my grandparents arrival this week. Very long hours but worth it.
This morning our ritual began as all mornings. Mike brought the boys into my bed to wake them/me up with some snuggle time. I get up, use the restroom and feel some pain. Ah hell.... I really don't care to get a bladder infection this week... mental note, stop for a gallon of cranberry juice to flush it away. Moving on with my day.... ouch.... damnit that hurts a little... I'm gonna lay on my heating pad for a bit before I get into the shower. Kiss husband good bye... ouch... what the hell... ouch... major ouch ... okay... constant pain. Not throbbing, not waves, but constant pain, front/back, up and down, constant pain. Now I start to get scared. The pain is getting worse and worse, I am at home alone with 2 small children. I call my mother, I'm crying partly because of the pain, partly because I am scared. Mom is on the way, call husband, he is barely out of the neighborhood, turn around and comes home.
Oh God, Oh God... what is this? Am I going to make it to the hospital? Should we call an ambulence... oh my God what is this pain?!?! I haven't felt this pain since..... oh shit.... since I was 8 months pregnant and got kidney stones.
We get the kids to school and me to the ER. Signed in, was taken to a room and had and IV within 15 minutes. First round of drugs, nothing... I am dizzy and sleepy with a pain scale of 10 and vomiting. Second round of drugs finally gave me enough relief to get a CT scan. Sure enough...kidney stones. Doped me up, wished me luck and said it will pass within 2 days. Came home and slept ... all day.... at one point Mike brought me a sandwich which I thought I was awake enough to eat, but then I woke up an hour later with food in my mouth and the rest of the sandwich in my hand.....and now I am going to go sleep some more.

Happy Birthday, Max!

My dearest Max,

My baby, my first, my angel.... words will never describe my ever growing love for you. I never thought it was possible for me to possess such an undescribable love, as my love is for you.

Four years ago, you came into my life after a long hard night. You amazed everyone with your ability to hold your head up when you were only hours old. You balled yourself up like a turtle and nuzzled into your daddy's neck. You forever changed our lives in one brief moment and for that I will be forever grateful.

Three years ago, you were a man on the move. You were not quite walking yet, but you would be in a month or so. You were more interested in how toys worked, not necessarily what they did.

Two years ago, you were becoming a big brother. You were so excited. You truly believed that Mommy and Daddy made Ben just for you. It never occurred to you that you should be jealous or upset because there was a new baby in the house. You loved your new big boy bed and zoomed through the house pretending to be an airplane.

One year ago, you were shaking off your toddler years and comfortably settling into your big boy status.

This past year you have amazed me with how quickly you learn things and how you challenge yourself to do more. This is the first time when I have held my breath, stayed a few steps behind and watched you soar. Climb the tallest heights, take off on your own on playgrounds and let you stay up and watch cartoons while Daddy, Mommy and Ben take naps. You love, LOVE, L-O-V-E gymnastics, you love to dance, sing, and regularly recite the dialogue with your favorite movies. You teach me sign language, you regulary inform me of the events of the day, and are more than willing to assist me with disciplining your brother. You love to play on the computer, build things with your legos, and convince your brother to play games with YOUR rules. You go to bed reading books, and wander into my arms every morning for snuggle time before Ben wakes up. You know what you want and are not afraid to tell me - "I want bread with no skins, turkey, cheese and no white stuff (dressing)"- and with this strong mind comes very strong will which tests Mommy and Daddy's boundaries daily if not hourly.

Your hugs and kisses are unannounced and full of real emotion. Every "goodbye" comes with a hug, a kiss and a "I love you, I'll see you later, I miss you already" (which you recite with me everytime)... and every "hello" comes with excited squeals and a running hug which almost knocks me over.

You are such a big boy, you out grow your clothes in one laundry cycle. Your favorite new thing is your new boots which you would wear with everything from jeans to shorts to PJs if we let you. You still have the same beautiful red hair that you had when you were born and we cannot go anywhere in public without one person remarking at how handsome you and your brother are.....

I love you, pumpkin...
Mommy

Ahhhh...the holidays....

I would like to thank the many comments in recent days... it is sad that we can't all be adults and have adult conversation, but most of you were well behaved.... and I really enjoyed finding all the new blogs from new commentors!!

So I was thinking of how my holidays were stacking up and I realized that for the last 8 weeks of the year...

I will let you all ponder the horrific thought that there are only 8 MORE WEEKS LEFT TO THIS YEAR!!!.

.... and I realized that I have something significant to do each and every weekend. It made me fell abundant, tired and dizzy all at the same time.

I have found a new sign of my age is calculating the time, energy, cost of the holidays in my mind rather than getting excited about Christmas lights and holiday cheer. I can literally feel my internal checklist going into over drive.

And I do it to myself.....I completely did this to myself. I got married in November because it would be "so great" to get married at the Holidays. I had my children weeks apart in Nov-Dec because it would be "so great" to be on maternity leave for the holidays. And now, I am dealing with birthdays, anniversaries, and holiday gatherings, as the cherries and nuts on my already over flowing ice cream sundae.

It's my own "rock hard, tastes good at first, but then gives you indigestion" fruit cake every year.

And yet.... the little "it's gonna be so great" holiday elf in me just won't stop jingling those bells. My Polar Express is pulling into the station and I am off to the North Pole, people! I am dressing my internal Grinch up in bling bling and headed to all events with holiday cookies in hand and tinsle in my hair. My children will wear matching outfits and my house will ooze with holiday spirit and cheer.

Bring it on, Christmas.... this turkey is already cooked and ready for the long nights of leftovers!!!

BRING IT ON!!!

Why I do not vote.....

Driving into work today, I was behind this heavy duty tricked out SUV with a big sign on the back:

Due to expected voter turnout
Republicans vote Nov. 7th
Democrats vote Nov. 8th

I kind of chuckled to myself and thought, sorry buddy.. I'm not voting either day!

I really hate that I am not voting. I want to. I want my voice to be heard and my vote to count, but it doesn't. I don't have a voice. I don't get one. All I get to do is pick sides. I don't get to vote issues. I get to vote on mudslingers and paper dolls. And even if I did pick sides, my individual vote doesn't count. The collective majority of my neighbors' thoughts count. Just because I choose a state, city, neighborhhood, and street to live on, doesn't mean I agree with everything my neighbors think. If I chose to live in a old or art driven part of town doesn't mean I am a democrat and just because I chose a neighborhood because of the elementary school doesn't automatically make me a republican.

Why can't I be for gay marriage and support the war in IRAQ? Why can't I support parental notification for underage abortions and support the choice for an abortion in itself? Why does it have to be red or blue? Why do we even have red or blue?

How can we come up with a system that tracks billions and billions of dollars down to the penny, yet we can't create a system where I get a choice, I get a vote, and at the end of the day 1 billion votes means 1 billion votes?