Day 25: I Coulda Been a Contender

I used to be a pretty decent writer. No, really, I'm not bragging, but in my college and grad school days, I was known in certain circle as being quite the purveyor of prose. Okay, my circle was the jocks for whom I'd write papers and my friends in grad school, but still.

I used to journal. I used to write anguish-ridden poetry. I used to write multiple page-long missives to friends, both in the US and abroad. Then, I quit.

I don't know if I got too busy or it it was due to the surge of internet use that seriously declined my writing skills. However, I used to write. I was dry, witty, sarcastic, and interesting.

Now? Not so much.

Oh, the picture? It's me.

Day 23: Boing

I think I'm running out of things to photograph.

I have more to say but I can't right now, so I'll be back.

Aaaand, I'm back.

at Steph...I looked for the dragon face, but I didn't see it.

I have quite the collection of Therabands (or exercise bands, whatever you want to call them) left over from my various ankle surgeries. My intrepid physical therapists would send these home with me in hopes that I would make good on my promise to go my exercises like a good little girl and my ankle would be all better.

I never did. Which may be why I needed 4 surgeries to get my left ankle semi-better. "Semi" being the operative word.

It's not due to my lack of P.T., though, I swear.

Anyway, this batch of bands made its way into the bathroom via Boo and Bay. They like to figure out where I've been hiding them and then drag them all over the house. Then, as a good mommy does, I clean them up, for them to find another day. I'm hoping that the current hiding place of my bathroom cabinet will serve 2 purposes: they won't leave them all about the house like intestines from an eviscerated balloon monster, and I might be spurred into using them more than once a blue moon.

Hey...I can hope, right?

Day 22: Open Letter to Moose A. Moose

Dear Moose, (I hope you don't mind that I'm calling you Moose.)

I love you. No, really, I do.

You are absolutely adorable, a snappy dresser, a wonderful singer, and an awesome friend to Zee--the cutest, boot-wearing bird around. You are everything I've ever wanted in a moose.

Environmentally friendly? Check.
Geometrically aware? You betcha.
You know your ABC's and your 123's, and you have a song to ring in every holiday and season.

Better yet? You entertain both of my children when I need just a wee bit of "mommy time" (also known as "damn it, I can't find the corkscrew! time")

However, could you please just do me one, eensy, teensy, tiny favor? Could you please come up some new material? I'm dying over here!!

Thank you so much!

Eternally yours,
Amy

Day 21: Yep, You Guessed It...

Soup.

Week 3 of my Oasis cook-a-long. This one was a spicy, southwesterny-styled soup that just begged for me to (finally) try my hand at the homemade tortillas that people have been raving about.

I definitely need to practice my tortilla-rolling skills, because most of them were grossly misshapen things, but they tasted fabulous!!

Day 20: "I wanna Mohawk, but mom won't get me one..."

I have a stinky kid.

Seriously.

He's developed a serious aversion to taking a bath or shower, so I have to bribe him. Lately, "funky hair-dos" seems to do the trick. This evening's was the punk classic; the Mohawk.

Okay, it's more of the "faux-hawk", as popularized by Mr. David Beckham, but still, my Boo...he's edgy.

Day 19: Toga! Toga!

Bay has become an absolute bear when one tries to get her ready for bed. She's realized the lure of staying up past her bedtime. Here, I tried to pull her onesie over her head, instead, she finagled (is that even a word??) her arm through and then scampered away. Eh...at least she's fashionable.

Day 18: "A short stocking usually reaching to the calf or just above the ankle."

My current obsession with funky socks stems from my very first class of my grad school program. I enrolled in the Lesley University in the "Integrating Creative Arts" program with several friends from work. The very first night we all got in a big circle to do...something. I can't remember exactly, but I *do* remember that we all took off our shoes and I looked around and everyone in the class had super cute socks. I mean every.one.

Me? I think I was wearing plain black ones I bought in a 6-pack at Target. I was very low-maintenance when it came to my footwear. However, I was mortified that I had such boring socks!

I mentioned it to my mom and, being my mommy, guess what she did? That's right, started buying me socks, something she still does.

I like to think my habit of not matching my socks to my outfit but very frequently, or wearing Halloween socks in December (because they matched my outfit) mark me as being "quirky" but really, I'm just a slacker and I hit the snooze button too many times most mornings and I'm usually struggling to get ready on time in the mornings.