Planning Ahead is Overrated

K Man was like Mr. Incredible of the Valentine world this year.

Me: Don't you think you should start writing your Valentine's? This is Monday and Valentine's Day is on Friday.

Him: I've still got time.

Me: Okay it's Tuesday now so you only have tonight, tomorrow night and Thursday to write out the Valentines.

Him: I've still got time.

Me: Okay so Valentine's Day is tomorrow. It's 4:30 now and you go to bed at 8. We should probably get those Valentines written out.

Him: I've still got time.

We finally compromised and he wrote his name on 25 Valentines. No names in the "to" box. Still a lot of writing for the boy with dysgraphia...which is why I wanted him to start earlier so he could spread out the time. But, you know, he still had time.

New Addiction or Phase...Phase probably sounds better

There is a new-ish business in town where you go and drink wine or beer and follow along with an instructor to paint an easy-ish painting that you get to take home at the end of 2 1/2 hours. I went with a friend a couple of weeks ago and promptly went out and bought myself a tabletop easel, acrylics, and brushes. I'm now channeling my inner Bob Ross.

This was my first attempt at a painting on my own.

We have sky. We have water. Very blue.

 Then the moon showed up.

 And a tree sprouted from an island.

Not too bad for my first attempt.

I'm Hibernating Until Mother Nature Gets Over Her PMS

I live in Minnesota. Yes, it's by choice mostly. Most of my family (even extended family) is here. I moved a lot as a kid because my dad was in the military and it sort of made me want to stay put once I had the choice. Plus, I missed my family even when I went to college just 2 hours away. Perhaps I am a big baby and miss my mommy and daddy if I don't see them enough.

I digress. I live in Minnesota, the land of 10,000 lakes, giant mosquitoes, passive-aggressive people, and the weather changes drastically in just hours. We are being treated to another PIECE of the polar vortex tonight and tomorrow, so we'll enjoy the balmy -40 wind chills yet again. (Though -40 really is balmy compared to the -60 wind chills just a few days ago.) It really is hard to sympathize with the Floridians who are shivering in the 50 degree (ABOVE ZERO) temperatures.

There are some Minnesotans that wear shorts no matter what the weather. Honestly, you can try to judge the temperature by looking at several people's attire and you'll be heartily confused. On the same day you can see one person wearing shorts, another a light sweatshirt and jeans, and yet another dressed in a parka, hat and mittens. I generally don't wear shorts in the winter, but much of the time my heavy winter coat makes me sweat even when the temps dip.

Minnesotans are a strange lot. If a stranger asks for help in a store, we help even though we don't work there--but if you try to cut in front in a merge at a construction site we'll pull ahead just enough so you can't get in. We drag out our oooooos and call sodas "pop" and instead of playing "Duck, Duck, Goose" like normal people we play "Duck, Duck, Grey Duck." (This totally confused me moving to Minnesota from New York.)

Minnesotans lament a May snowstorm that drops a foot of snow then complain a month later about 90 degree heat. (It's not so much the heat, but the humidity!)

If you ask a Minnesotan how they are doing, even if the person is dying and has lost everything he will respond..."It can always be worse, eh?"

So, it can always be worse, eh?

Until next time...be a unicorn.

Many Things Look Easier Than They Are

My girls assured me that I was being an idiot complaining about how hard planks are. I hired a personal trainer back in May and I've pushed myself to do things I never thought I could at this point in my life. I'm fat and have asthma, among other problems.

Anywho, I was talking to my mom on the phone about how doing a plank on the floor for 60 seconds (working to the floor from inclined planks) pretty much kicked my butt. (I'm sure it's not a remarkable feat, but for my fat butt it is!) Both of my girls (11 and 5) told me I was pretty much a wimp and they could kick my butt on the plank. Challenge accepted! My oldest was so bold to say she could plank for TWO minutes. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

She lasted about 20 seconds.

My 5-year-old was able to plank for the full 60 seconds, but I think she resembled my struggles to make the whole minute.

The plank is one of my least favorite exercises. I prefer lifting weights. What do you like or hate?

Until next time, be a unicorn.

New Year, New Blog

I had a blog. I had a blog for years then Google decided I couldn't have my domain name anymore (or I'm just not smart enough to jump through all the hoops they wanted me to jump through) and I couldn't post there anymore. Truth told, I hadn't posted much in the last year anyway, but it still kind of pissed me off that I couldn't write on my own blog anymore. I still have the posts, so some may occasionally be recycled here. I sometimes impress myself with my old posts when I have the time to reread the past.

So I started a new blog. I plan to be myself, since I can't be a unicorn. At least I haven't figured out how to be a unicorn yet. This is me. I am a wife to a remarkably tolerant man that I piss off on a regular basis. Usually I have no idea what I've done to piss him off, so that's a fun guessing game. I have three kids: the order is girl, boy, girl, and yes, we planned to have the third even though she is four years younger than her brother. When I grow up, if I grow up, I want to write a novel and I want to be a photographer. I've started two or three novels, then they sit. I'm daunted by the in-between details in telling the story. I find it is much easier to write when I am reading regularly, so that may be the reason my writing has fallen off lately. I'm watching too much The Walking Dead on Netflix instead of going to bed early to read.

I wanted this first post to be witty and entertaining, but it wasn't getting written so I just dove in. I've heard that's how you get past writer's block...just start writing.

Until next time, be a unicorn.