Smell My Armpits!!!

Well, Isaiah has a little lisp, so it sounds more like, "Smell my armpit-ths!"
He has found a certain joy in putting on Daddy's deodorant and then running around the house and making everone comment on just how fresh and manly he smells. Fun times :)

In the bad timing dept: Our bedframe from Ikea broke. So we went to Ikea on Friday and picked out a new one. Dragged it home, put it together. Then Saturday my uncle offers me his beautiful bedroom set because his wife decided to redecorate - again. Dilemma! Do I return the one I just got for a whole new set? Then I have to rent a truck to pick up the set. My hubs loves the new bed bc it's brushed nickel, he doesn't really like wood very much. My uncle's set is dark wood, with a big beautiful four poster bed frame. *sigh* For those of you who don't know, I've never owned an actual bedroom set. Always just picked up a piece here or there, or whatever cast offs we got from family. So even 2nd hand, it's still a set. *bigger sigh* So I wavered on it for a few days. This morning I laid it all out and hubs said, as he usually does, "Sweetie, whatever you want is fine."

We used to have a matress pad under our mattress, instead of a box spring. When we picked up the new frame, we also got a box spring. We took the mattress pad and put it on the floor that night so the kids could camp out in our room (which, for some reason, is a big exciting thing for them) The next morning, they inform me that my bedroom is now their dojo, and they're practicing their ninja moves. Oooohkay.

So my weekend was spent smelling armpit-ths in the dojo.

Grandparents

They don't live forever, do they? *sigh* About a year ago I sat down for an afternoon and wrote down things they remembered about their families. Who came here, where did they come from, who they married. It was very interesting, and I'm glad I took the time to do it.
My grandparents, on my mother's side, live near me, yet I don't see them much. Life gets in the way, and family disputes, too. Yesterday I went to see them, and I was struck by just how fragile they appear. My grandfather especially. He looms large in my mind, a big, strong military man with an easy smile and always a dollar to spare for ice cream. He and I comparing tattoos. He got his in Hawaii, by a rare (at the time)female artist. My grandmother... since she had a heart attack a few years ago she's lost a LOT of weight. She's so thin now, just as her own mother was. It was comforting to me just to sit and listen to her talk last night. That same voice that carried me through my childhood with her wisdom and love. She remained a constant for me. When my parents divorced, when my father died, she was there for me. When I was 15, she took me to Planned Parenthood herself because my mother couldn't face the fact that I'd become sexually active. When I went into labor with Daimean, SHE is the person I called.
I guess it comes down to this - I avoid them because I don't like to accept the fact that they're aging. If I keep them at arm's length, maybe I won't be so devastated when I lose them. Silly, I know. Time to make the effort to spend time with them now, while I still can.

The Last Post

Well, last POLITICAL post, anyway :P

Last night, as I waited anxiously for the election results to be tallied, state by state, I imagined a more secure future for my children.
As I waited, I imagined a country working to be strong from within, before attempting to flex that strength elsewhere.
A country that fights for equality. Opportunity. Innovation.
When it was over, I cried. I brushed back the hair of my sleeping child and I heaved a sigh of relief. I thought about Obama's speech in New Hampshire, that this is the moment when we start to heal this country, this earth. And I was reminded that no matter the outcome, we rise or fall as one.

I'm happy, proud, exhausted..... but mostly, THANKFUL. My fellow Americans stood up and we took our country back. We elected an intelligent, compassionate and unique man to lead us. Not because of his skin color, and not because of his family name - but because our hearts and minds could finally agree on one person.

And I know everyone one says race doesn't matter. But let me tell you what this means to us "minorities" - those of us who have to work twice as hard to show we're just as capable. Those of us who DON'T look like the preceding presidents. THIS means so much to me, that MY CHILDREN will grow up knowing what. is. possible.

Yes, We Did

That good cry I was talking about? I let it out today, first when the election was called for Obama, and again, when he spoke. Yes, we can. The fight was long and hard, but we did it. We stood up and made it happen. Today I laid it all on the line, after months and months of pushing for him. Today I didn't cautiously say, Yes, we might. I said, YES WE CAN. And we did.
But this is only the beginning. There is a lot of work to do. But I'm honored to be doing it under the guidance of President Obama.

Good night, I'll sleep well.

Today is the Day

Never in my life has an election captivated so many people. I've never seen so many Americans truly involved in the process, and understanding that our country's future is on the line. Our children. Our grandchildren. They're looking to us to stand behind our convictions, stand up for change, and make it happen. My candidate says that we rise or fall as one, and I agree. He says that we can begin to repair this world, and I believe him. This is our time, he says.

"In the unlikely story that is America, there has never been anything false about hope."

So today, I will let all that hope run unchecked.

Obama to win, all or nothing.

Need a Good Cry?

Ever have those days when you feel as if you're on the verge of tears, just waiting for the thing that's going to come along and start them flowing? I've felt that way for a few days now. Strange, unwelcome feeling. Why does that happen, anyway? Did I not use up my sob quota this year?
I think I'll start doing an annual Christmas letter. Why? Well, why not? I can send it out with my Christmas cards (which are usually defaced by me before sending anyway) and since it pains me to be serious for more than a few brief moments, it'll probably read like a Dave Chappelle skit.
Yesterday I went in for early voting, which pushed everything else in my evening back by almost 2 hours. Fucking electoral college makes me feel like my time was wasted. Next year I'll start a movement (or rather, join one in progress) to get rid of that and determine elections solely on popular vote. Damn, wish I'd have thought of that LAST year!
Our new office has a McDonald's in the building. So far, I've resisted it's greasy goodness. But every morning half the company walks past my office toting bags so greasy you can see through them, and it's making me nuts. How long can I hold out?!

Complaint Dept, Line 2

We moved our corporate office out of the glam spot we'd occupied forever and are now in some decidedly UNglam digs. The elevator is painfully slow, and there's no Captivate screen in it. The heat is loud and inefficient, like you'd find in a cheap hotel. The bathroom has a nice seating area though. My view, I won't even get into that. But the bottom line is that I still have a job that I enjoy, and that's all that matters. And hey, there is a Taco Fresco next door.

Prince is 50!? Are you serious?? How could that be?? He had major bearing on my formative years, but I may have rethought that had I known he was as old as my PARENTS!

Kids, ah, back to the kids. The blog IS called Life As A Momma, not Life As An Office Worker. My two little darlings fight constantly, chatter like monkeys when I'm trying to focus on anything, and they leave dirty socks on the dining room table. So, that means it's business as usual, and I'm loving every minute I have with them. One day in the future, they'll want to move out and start their own lives, so I'm holding on as tight as I can while there's still time for cuddles and kisses.