We were driving down the highway tonight when my husband spotted this truck. I commented about how it wasn’t a very good car sticker because there was so much verbiage on it, that you can’t read it while in motion. And then we realized- wait, how exactly would one go about contacting this guy? There was no phone number or website url to be found.

Super-daddy then sped up, while yelling for me to take a picture with my iphone. After many failed attempts, we began to fear for our safety and our sanity. And we gave up and decided to try something else.

So we then followed him to a gas station about 10 miles up the road- to take a picture (in the name of science of course) not at all creepy stalker like…

So I give this one a big marketing FAIL.

I have reached the end of an era and sit at a crossroads. When you have to make the choice on where you want to go next, do you take the road that you have taken in years past, or do you dare to go someplace different?

When I began working from home, I took on freelance clients right and left trying to make ends meet and somewhere in the middle I took on a steady paying gig and pursued my own things on the side. It worked better that way- because I could count on the money month after month.

I had a feeling that it was coming down the pike for a while, but even with that in the back of my mind it shocked me today to find out that the job was no longer. So now I find myself at a turning point. Do I go back to freelance work- picking up gigs when I can and pounding the pavement? Do I try for a permanent position and put the kids in day care?  Do I look for a part time gig? Do I focus my attention on my own projects and hunker down on the book that I am writing?

I can’t stop working. It’s not in my DNA. But I must decide (rather quickly) where to go from here.

8 months ago, at this exact moment I was in the recovery room crying. I wasn’t crying because of the pain that I was in from just undergoing major abdominal surgery. I wasn’t crying because I was afraid of how I was going to handle 2 kids. I wasn’t crying because I was overcome with joy and happiness either.

I was crying because I had yet to see my little boy. He was hurried off to the NICU and I was stuck in the recovery room helpless. All I wanted was to cuddle the little boy that I had held in my belly for 9 months. I wanted to nurse him, count his toes…make sure that he was ok. But I was met with resistance. Uncertainty. Fear.

It took several more hours before I was able to see him, and even longer before I was able to touch his cheek with my bare hand. He was such a big boy 9 pounds, 7 oz. And he didn’t belong in the NICU with all those tiny babies.

He is simply perfect in every way, and I have since counted his toes and nursed him to sleep many, many times. And will continue to do so many more times.

He has changed our lives in so many ways. And when I see my two boys playing in their elmo tent together giggling and laughing, or holding hands in the stroller I know that he has filled a void that we didn’t even know existed.

Happy 8 month birthday Z!

Sometimes it feels good to complain- so here goes.

1. Don’t you hate it when your kid sleeps for all of 5 minutes in the car and then wakes up refreshed ready to finish out the day? You know there is no hope at all for a nap, and you will spend more time and energy trying to fight them to take that nap, that it really isn’t even worth fighting the battle?

2. Don’t you hate it when  you are bidding on something on ebay, and at the last minute some jack-hole pumps up the price? I know it’s the seller doing it- which makes me hate ebay that much more.

3. Don’t you hate it when you are trying to get into a public building with 2 kids in a stroller, and no one will help open the door for you? So you are stuck looking like an idiot, trying to make sure that your kids arms don’t get amputated, while you try to keep the door open with your butt trying to pull 60 pounds of stroller/kid over the threshold.

4. Don’t you hate it when your spouse leaves a pen or marker in their pocket and it finds its way into the wash? And you find out about it after it has already had a trip in the washer and the dryer, rendering your clothes unwearable?

Maybe it’s just me….but today has kinda sucked.