After spending the past 3 days clearing out my closet, I finally have a clean and usable space. And, because I came upon lots of hidden goodies while laboring away, I’ve chosen once again to humiliate myself to you all.

Today’s topic: why a walk down memory lane is not always a good thing.

Let’s start at the beginning (or close enough) - kindergarten. Why am I dressed like a flight attendant…Mom?

Moving on to second grade. Despite the missing teeth and mullet, I did not live in a trailer.

Fourth grade was the year I moved. New school. New friends. Of course, everyone thought I was a boy the first day of school. I ask you this: would a boy wear a turquoise shirt with silver studded stars?

The next year I got a perm. Probably the biggest mistake I ever made in style. But I thought it was bee-yooou-tiful! Notice the pink leggings, sky-blue turtleneck and white knit sweater. I was beyond proud of this outfit.

I don’t think it’s really fair to count this outfit as a fashion faux pas. I mean, anything goes when you’re camping, right? But still…tie-dyed sweatpants. It’s just too good!

What a difference two years can make. As a freshman in high school, this is when I discovered lipstick! As you can see, I’m still rockin’ the ever-popular Scrunchie, but I had discovered that I could cut my bangs as short as I liked and no one could do a thing about it. Ah, freedom!

By the time I graduated high school, I had gone back to wearing my hair short, but this time…it was blonde!

And pink…

And red (purple?)…

A few years later, my hair had grown back out and I had full-heartedly entered into my skanky tease phase. Could I please have more blue eye-shadow on?

And then I met Jason…and became a wife…

And stepmom…

And mom…

And that brings us to a close. What’s next, I wonder?

I found a new show that I am now totally intrigued with. It’s on Discovery Health Channel and yes, of course, it’s a reality show. It’s called Jon & Kate plus 8. I caught a preview for it and had to see for myself…eight! As in eight kids. As in 2 six year-olds (twins) and 6 two year-olds (sextuplets)!

I will never complain again about being tired after a day taking care of my Squid! Watching this show makes me feel all the more fortunate. For the most part, it is just me and my boy at home together. My stepson, who is also a huge help to me when he’s here, is with us every Thursday through Saturday. But it never gets crazy, crazy. Yeah, sometimes a bit busy and hectic, but never too much to handle.

Jason and I still have our “us” time, still can take spontaneous weekend drives, still go out to dinner without too much fuss, still sit together at night and watch movies uninterrupted, still are…for the most part, pretty laid back.

These people never seem to have a moment’s rest. Part of me thinks that, like with everything, you start to get used to your life the way it is and adjust accordingly. But the smarter part, the part that had an extremely hard time managing Squid when he was weeks old, the part that felt I would never sleep again, the part of me that was up all night sobbing and up all day irritable and jittery, the part that rejoiced when Squid started sleeping though the night, the part that wants to wait at least another year before even thinking about having another child, knows better.

Now that those terrible months of newborn hell are well behind me and Squid is at the point where he can entertain himself/walk around/sleep in regular intervals, I can really enjoy every moment with him. Don’t get me wrong, I was in love with Squid from the moment I saw his face. I loved watching his tiny, 6 pound body curl into my arm. I loved (and still love) watching him discover all the firsts in life. But I also vividly remember wishing the days would pass quicker, watching the clock and hoping another hour had gone by, frantic for the day when he would get past that fragile, up-all-night stage.

Now every day with him is like another day hanging out with my best buddy. Add seven more to that mix…uh, well, achieving that experience through my television works just fine for me, thanks.

I’m squeezing in this Friday Five (I have about an hour and a half before it’s officially Saturday) because I feel bad about allowing so many Fridays to go by without one. This is the kind of stuff I think about, people.

Top Five Things on My To-Do List This Weekend…

One: Finish Big Baby sweater for Squid. I couldn’t find a free pattern for this yarn, so I ended up making my own (!). So far, I think I’m on the right track. This yarn is so amazingly cute and snuggly and soft and I can’t wait to finish it for my little man.

Two: Drop off all the crap we didn’t sell at the garage sale (did I tell you we made a whopping $37.50?!) at Goodwill.

Three: Remind myself never to have a garage sale again.

Four: I’m cheating and listing something that I already did…for the first time, today! Have a wheatgrass shot.

Five: Clean my closet. Cuz eww.

Can someone please tell me why Nickelodeon airs ads for Pamprin in the middle of Jimmy Neutron? There I am, watching cartoons with my stepson when:

“BACKACHE! PAIN! EXHAUSTION! IT’S THAT TIME OF THE MONTH AND YOUR PERIOD IS MAKING LIFE HARD…”

I try to ignore it, even talk over the commercial while searching for the MUTE button. But the terrifying question comes anyway.

“What does that mean?” my stepson asks.

“Uh..huh?”

I mean, c’mon! I’ve already had to answer the “why can’t boys get pregnant?” question and the “why does Squid like to play with his peep?” question. Now I have to explain what a menstrual cycle is to my 9 year-old?!? Forget it!

I’m not the only one who writhes when these questions come up. Jason is even worse! Last night we were watching America’s Funniest Home Videos and someone had sent in a clip of a sign outside a restaurant that read:

THERE IS NO SILICONE IN OUR BREASTS…JUST PURE CHICKEN!

Bob Saget added his comment: “Well, this restaurant obviously isn’t in Los Angeles!”

The audience laughed and then, from the couch, “What does it mean, ’silicone in breasts?’”

I mentally rolled my eyes and prepared my speech. Well, breasts…uh, er…ok, you know what breasts are, right? Well, sometimes people feel the need to change the look of their bodies…

Before I could begin my lame explanation, Jason blurted out, “Uh, I don’t know, I didn’t catch that! Huh? What? Nope, I don’t know. I didn’t see that one.”

More prodding. “It said, ’silicone breasts. just chicken…”

Jason: “I don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention.”

The poor kid finally gave up and, although very quiet, I think I actually heard Jason breathe a sigh of relief.

When it comes to situations like these, I always try to give just enough information to make the questions cease, but not so much that I need to pull out the diagrams of the human body. I minored in Human Sexuality in college, took all the courses on sex and the body, relationships and practices, etc. etc. And for the most part I feel really comfortable talking about sex. Yet, at 9, I still think my stepson is a few years shy of needing the complete THIS IS YOUR BRAIN ON DRUGS, THIS IS YOUR PENIS ON SEX lecture.

Am I wrong?

All the Dads out there…we couldn’t do it without you! Well, actually we could and in fact, many of us already do. Some of us even do it BETTER without you. :)

Okay, wait a minute. Let me rephrase….I couldn’t do it without you!

Happy Father’s Day, Jason! Happy Father’s Day, Dad!

So, we’re having a garage sale today. The boys are downstairs as I type, “man”ning it. I have to tell you…there is nothing quite as depressing as sitting outside watching people slowly drive by your sale, take a look, then speed away! My mom and I always do that, but now that I’m on the receiving end, it’s really not so fun!

There is such a thing as garage sale etiquette, right? No drive-by/speed away maneuvers, no asking ten questions about a single item only to then walk away empty handed, no stepping with muddy shoes on the clothes that are spread out on the driveway, and no returns!

I think we’re up to $14 now. Yippee! And the sun is shining. I’m on my third cup of coffee. Things are good in the universe.

Here’s a new video for you all (by the way, I did NOT teach him how to slide the harmonica back and forth. And the breathing…he got that himself, too. Maybe he saw his big brother do it. Anyway, it’s still pretty crazy that a one-year old can do this, no?)

Since I have nothing of interest to talk about lately…Sopranos? Ugh. Hated the finale. New season of Big Love? Eh. Not impressed. World news…haven’t been keeping up, really. Presidential candidates? The whole thing makes me very, very tired.

On a happier note, we had a great weekend and are looking forward to another (hopefully sunny) one in a few more days. Our backyard is ready for summer and I can not wait to get Squid into an inflatable kiddie pool!

OH! And I do have this to share:

Here’s the story. I HATE when parents take agony/crying/temper-tantrum pictures of their kids. I really do. I think it’s mean and totally not cool. If I was crying/upset/having a meltdown and someone took a picture of me, I’d grab the camera out of their hands and shove it up their ass.

That said, this picture was TOTALLY by accident. Squid was actually smiling up until the exact second I snapped the shot…really! I swear. But it really is rather cute, isn’t it?

And then there’s this:

The picture taken for no other reason than to relieve my guilt!

To celebrate Squid turning 14 months old today I decided to give Little Man his very first haircut. Jason and I had briefly discussed taking him to a trendy salon in Oakland that specializes in Baby’s 1st Haircut. They give out balloons and certificates with a baggy of hair. They put cartoons on and seat kids in posh pony or racecar seats. It all sounded very good, except for one thing. There is no way in hell Squid would allow a stranger to touch him! He doesn’t even welcome LOOKS let alone someone’s hands on his head, clipping away!

So, I decided to do it myself. I waited until he was well awake but not overly tired. I gave him a bottle and some toys to play with. Then I sat him down on the bathroom floor and went to work. I used Jason’s clippers with the plastic 1″ attachment. It worked perfectly!

Squid was a little weirded out at first, maybe even a little nervous. The clippers aren’t exactly quiet. But as soon as I said, “It’s okay, baby,” and started talking him through it, he was all smiles. In the end, he was loving his new look!

Here’s Squid PRE-cut:

And here he is POST-cut:

How cute is that!?!?

I took a bit of a break from knitting. Don’t really know why but now I’m back into it and realize I pretty much love it more than any other hobby. I guess the reason is because I have a problem with finishing other things, whereas I almost always finish my knitting projects.

But now, since I’m always knitting, people have been putting in their “orders,” leaving me with a butt-load (yes, that’s right, BUTT-load not boat-load) of stuff to complete! My stepson wants a purple, green and yellow poncho. I still owe Ford a black and red scarf. My grandmother suggested I make her a funny red hat for her special “Ladies’ Club.” Christina gave me this book which has sooooo many cute styles I want for myself. My stepmother’s birthday is next Saturday and I’m making her a little sump’ sump’…and I’m still trying to find a cute sweater pattern for Squid.

All this and I still managed to bust this doggy sweater out for my TOTALLY unappreciative pug. Actually, he hated it so much he tried to bite me when I attempted to slip it over his fat pug self. So much for the cute “I’m a fat pug in a purple sweater” picture I planned on posting.
Woah. That sentence had major “P” alliteration and I didn’t even try!