In Another Life...

So, do you think there is one single person out there for each of us?

No really. Think about it.

Katie Perry's recent hit, "In Another Life" made me really think about it the other night on the way home. And I just wondered if anyone really believed in fate and destiny any more? In this day and age it just seems difficult to believe.

Like any little girl I grew up wanting to believe in fairy tales and Prince Charming. Then of course I grew up a bit and entered the dating world and quickly came to realize that the only way I would meet Prince Charming was at Disney World.

But if you do believe there is one person out there for each of us, how does it work? What a lot of stress and pressure looking for that one, single, solitary person. I just don't believe it. I don't know, for me it's just too much to try to buy into.

Not that I don't think that there are people each of us can be happy with.

And I totally believe that marriage can be forever. I think it is incredibly difficult, but possible. Just because of how much people change over the years. I think back to guys I dated 10 years ago, who I of course thought I was going to be with FOREVER (note the eye roll), and I think how preposterous it was. How much different I am now. How completely naive and unrealistic such expectations were for a 16 year old.

One of the things that makes it the hardest for me to buy into the whole destiny, one person for each of us, is my mom. She is quite happily married now. To a really great guy who I hope she's going to be happy with for a long time. And I think that this is probably who she's supposed to be with. But I don't think she could have been with him 30 years ago. And if she had of some how managed to meet him 30 years ago (when their age difference would have made a difference since he's a few years her junior and they lived in completely different states) then my brother and I wouldn't be here. Or we certainly would look different. My step dad has blonde hair and blue eyes and I got my dark hair and eyes from my biological dad. I may have complained about my non-generic look a decade ago, but these days I love it.

I find it hard to believe that my mom shouldn't have been with my dad. Ya know, since that would sorta void me out. But I also don't believe she should have stayed with him and worked out their issues. Although he had a promising outlook when they got married, some how or other he lost all his motivation and has STILL not made anything of himself. He STILL doesn't have anything to show for his half a century of living. Other than two kids who he never sees or talks to. And two granddaughters, one of which he's never even met. But I don't really feel like he can take much credit for any of us.

I believe that for each of us, there are several someones out there that we can be happy with. Each of us walks a path from day one to day 32,850. We make choices, left or right. The blue shirt or the red shirt. Four year university or local college. Super size my value meal? Take the stairs? Go for the bigger tv? That's what living is all about. So how can you think that with the billions of choices you make every day that the path is some how preplanned and ordained and you're going to meet Mr. Right at some point and end up married happily ever after?

Too many people get divorced for the RIGHT reasons and too many people get married for the WRONG reasons for me to swallow such a logic. It doesn't mean I don't believe it God (I do) or that I'm not a Christian (I am) or that I don't think my husband and I will be together for 30 years (I will be 51! Wow!). I am quite happy.

So, all of this train of thought from a Katie Perry song. Go figure. Driving home from Boone in the dark listening to the radio can apparently bring to mind all sorts of weird things.

The Best Compliment

Last weekend I received the best compliment ever. Or at least the best compliment I remember.

We had driven up to Boone for the day to see Josh's family, many of whom we hadn't seen for about a year and half or so. They had all flown or driven to NC for the holiday and had extended their stay so that we could visit them on our first day off.

Josh's grandfather, Robert, is a sweet guy. He's older. I mean, he's a great grandpa after all. And interestingly he can do a perfect impersonation of Donald Duck.

But Josh's grandfather comes up to me, hugs me, and tells me that I just keep getting prettier. Maybe it was because I wasn't feeling particularly pretty. I mean, who does after an hour and half car ride with 2 babies? And after two years of pregnancies and losing weight and gaining weight and not even feeling like I'm living in MY body, there aren't a lot of random compliments out there. So any compliment I get these days feels kinda special.

But something about just struck me as so super sweet. And he may well have greeted all of the females in the family that he hadn't seen in awhile that way. I dunno. Either way. Something about it just made me grin. And even now, days later, I appreciate it.

Once you have kids you get used to not being the one people compliment. Not that you don't necessarily look good. But little people are so much cuter! So sometimes its a rare kind word that just really makes your day. So really, best compliment. Ever.

:-)

Maintaining Mommy Friends

Since having my second child I have found that having any life beyond them seems to be pretty darn impossible. Maybe it's just me. I'm kinda slack when it comes to going out of my way to make friends anyways. People that I used to hang out with have stopped calling and texting and coming around in general. I guess I'm just no fun anymore.

And it's true. I mean, if you're not into play-doh and crayons and Dora the Explorer...I don't really know that I could even carry on much of a conversation with you. I mean...what the heck could we talk about??

And while time is much tighter than it was before the babies, I suppose I could work harder to do more "grown-up" activities. But the truth is I don't want to. Whereas before spending a weekend sitting around the house would have been depressing, now I look forward to it. I love the weekends that we don't have to do anything. We can have tea parties and play dress up and color and run around and the only time constraints we have are meals, naps and bed. I love those weekends!

It's hard to have friends once you're a mom. Your priorities change so dramatically. And all you want to talk about it diaper rashes and tantrums and your toddler's hilarious way of saying "zebra" (which by the way is like "ze-ba-bah-rah" it's adorable) and your non-mommy friends want to talk about...well you know, normal people stuff. Like work and school and drama with their fiance and how their parents are driving them crazy.

And while there is a really good argument out there on maintaining pre-mom friendships and staying well-rounded and not losing your identity in parenthood, I think there is a better argument for what happens when parents don't prioritize and when kids get forgotten. I know too many people who have kids and just keep on doing like they did. They keep going out and partying. They continue to lead wild lives. And they just let the T.V and the babysitter raise their children. And I don't want to be that kind of parent.

Being a parent is who you need to become.

There is nothing wrong with going out every once in awhile. Date nights are a must and some alone time needs to be a priority because if you can't take care of yourself then you'll have a hard time taking care of everyone else. This last one is the hardest for me to do. I just cannot let chores go undone or let a mess lie. I have to have order in my life or I will totally lose it. So I really need to find a way to make more time for ME. Even if it's just to go to bed a little earlier or take a bubble bath or something.

While I don't really have many of my pre-mom friends left, I have made new friends since becoming a mom, or to be more specific since becoming a baby buncher. When you're going through two under two, you really need to talk to people who can relate. Because a lot of people who have two kids that are several years apart just don't understand the chaos and the stress. Some people can sympathize but most people just don't get it. And for the first six months especially, you need "been there done that" help. So, I made friends with a couple of baby bunchers and they have been total life savers.

It's hard to realize that you never get to talk to those old friends anymore. It's a little sad. Heck, it's a lotta sad. Kinda bittersweet to think back on all the memories you shared with those friends and wonder if they ever miss you. Wonder if they understand why you're not interested in happy hours or late night drinking parties or big concerts in the middle of the week. Maybe one day they'll have kids and they'll call me up screaming "I understand! I understand!" lol. Or maybe not.

Nowadays I look forward to Saturday morning Walmart trips with Evie. And Sunday afternoons doing yard work with the girls. I look forward to Friday night movie night, snuggled up with the babies and watching animated classics (last week was Pocahontas and this week will be Happy Feet!) while munching on Orville Reddenbacher. I relish in teaching the girls holiday traditions and trying to get them ready for preschool.

In a few years the girls will be going to school and they will have their own friends and then there will be more time for me to do things. Things that I don't have time for right now. Like you know, shave my legs. haha.

It's here!

My iPhone 4S arrived today! It wasn't originally scheduled to ship until today and therefore wouldn't arrive here until next week. So I'm even happier.

I've gotten all the necessary programs on it. Now I'm just playing around it and seeing what else I want. Since I've been at work all day I haven't gotten to play around with Siri much but I'm looking forward to that as well.

Mean while, I am super glad it's Friday.

It's been a pretty good week. A rough start but had a phenomenal day Thursday and a spectacular Friday. So that makes it all okay. Don't know what I'll be doing this weekend. As of right now I have no plans.

I think I will be doing some Christmas decorating though. I know. It's very early. But I'm very excited. And since my family isn't have Thanksgiving on Thanksgiving Day but instead on Black Friday, I've decided I want the house fully decked out for Christmas by then. And of course I will be working all that week. So the decorating is going to be this weekend and next, when all four of us are home and together.

And of course there is always the MOUND of laundry to do. Plus I'm so incredibly behind on my DVR. Like 2 or 3 weeks on some of my shows! It's a tragedy. It really is.

So, Happy Veterans Day! Hope everyone has an awesome weekend! I'm going to resume playing with my phone. lol.

The Road to 911

People who knew me back when are a little surprised at the career I ended up in. Not because they can't see me doing it but because it is such a long ways from where I wanted to be.

When I was in high school I really had no clue what I wanted to be. Growing up I always thought I'd be a veterinarian. I guess most animal lovers grow up thinking that's where they'll be. I was a little daunted by the lengthy time to spend in school. But I thought I could handle it. My junior year in high school I took a general veterinary medicine class, one that vet assistants take, at my local community college. You watch a couple of general surgeries, learn how to give vaccinations, trim nails, take a temperature, etc. It was a great class but during the semester our family dog, Lucy, passed away. Now we had several dogs, we always have. But Lucy was special. She was my mom's Jack Russell Terrier and she was so smart and so sweet and so much more than a pet. When she died my mom was devastated and my entire family was pretty shaken up. As much as I wanted to be able to help animals, I didn't think I could possibly handle telling a family that their beloved dog had passed away. I couldn't deal with it. So I abandoned that career path.

Without any idea of what I wanted to do I took a bunch of goofy career tests and skill placement surveys and things. I really had no idea what to do post high school. I felt like since I was a "smart kid," AP classes and high SAT scores, I had to go off to a four year university but didn't know where or what for.

My mom worked at the local paper as an editor and my senior year they had no high school interns. She convinced me to be their intern and do write some profiles of students for the paper. And I was good at it! Not just that but I liked it. I had long enjoyed chasing ambulances and being "in the know" about all the county goings-ons. And I absolutely loved writing.

I thought journalism would be the place for me. I didn't really want to get a journalism degree so much as an English degree with a focus in journalism. My favorite types of stories during my internship, and the part-time job that followed, were the "fluff" stories. Meeting a little old man who bred unique flowers and doing a story. Learning the in-depth parts of local dairy farming and its future. Writing a feature on a kid who worked to give back to the community. I loved getting out and meeting people and learning about them and sharing their story. LOVED it.

So off to college I went! I went to UNC-Greensboro for two years, which I enjoyed but Greensboro wasn't the place for me. Boone was more my style, laid back and small town. Plus my boyfriend at the time was a student at Appalachian. So I transferred. Of course, the boyfriend and I broke up the month before school started but I was still happier at ASU and that was where I met my hubby. So it all worked out.

The month I graduated from App with my Bachelor's in English with a minor in Communications, I bought a house, moved back to my hometown and got a job at the same paper I had interned at in high school. I had high hopes of one day working for AP and traveling to other countries to cover news. I even had a few things published by the Associated Press. Shortly after joining the newspaper staff, the paper was bought by a new company and a large group of us left to start a new newspaper.

I covered the local police department and the school systems. I still loved writing but I got so burned out working the crazy long hours and dealing with the editor that I absolutely hated. I still loved listening to the scanner and covering the wrecks, drug busts, police reports and other emergency services stuff. But unfortunately that wasn't all I had did. I wanted out of the newspaper business but didn't want to get away from the emergency services activity that I loved so much.

Someone, I don't remember who, suggested that I apply for a dispatch position that had opened at the local police department. It was like a light bulb went off. What a fantastic idea! I decided that I would like working for the county more, since they dispatch not just law enforcement but also fire departments, rescue squads and EMS. I left the paper in the summer of 2008 and started training at the county 911 center and have never looked back.

I LOVE my job. I am so blessed and so thankful that in a time where so many are without employment I not only have a job but a job that I love to do. Of course I have bad days, who doesn't? It isn't the highest paying job nor is it always an easy job. But I don't doubt that it is where I am supposed to be. I've told my husband that even if I didn't have to work and I could stay home with my babies, I would still want to work part-time as a telecommunicator, I love it that much.

I do miss writing, hence the attempt at daily blogging. It feels like it is a good exercise for my brain to put thoughts into print, even if no one ever reads them (which I know sometimes people do). One day it would be great if I could get myself to write something. A novel or collection of short stories. I would absolutely love to be able to. But I have a tendency to get busy and get side-tracked and for my stories to never get finished. So who knows if that will ever happen.

In the mean time, I blog. I try and make myself write some sort of something every day. Even if it's just a thought or a summary of a recent event. As you can see, it doesn't happen as often as I intend. But I try, I really do.

Randomly Sunday

So exhausted from all the packing but so excited and nervous that I haven't been able to sleep yet. Well, except for the doze off on the couch curled up watching TV with Evie. But that doesn't really count.

Packing was...intense. The amount of bags we are taking is insane. And we really aren't taking many toys for the girls. Just clothes. And all the day to day stuff. Like spoons. And bowls. A crap, I forgot to pack bowls.

Dang it. Okay, that remedied.

It's been a wild day.

Evie killed me on the way home from dropping Mushu off at my mom's. (Yeah, it's really handy when your mom owns a boarding and grooming kennel lol) We're driving the highway when suddenly Evie yells, "Oh no!" from the back seat.

What baby?

Mushu! Ma's house!

Yes. He's at Ma's. Remember? He has to stay there while we're at the beach.

Oh no!

Yes. He can't go with us.

Oh no! Mushu! Mushu!

That girl kills me. Lol. So, she has asked about him a couple more times since we returned home. But fortunately she was tired. Both girls apparently were.

So, some random thoughts for the day...

Tennis shoes in the dryer can hit the door hard enough to open it.

I may possibly have the ugliest knees I've EVER seen...might help if I could quit banging into things with them.

What does a broken toe look like? Mine certainly feels broken. And it's swollen...and purplish. And I cannot move it. *sigh* I am ridiculously accident prone.

Well, I absolutely have to go to bed! Goodnight sweet world!

What dreams may come...

The Good Sort of Problems

Some weeks, you really gotta focus on the positives to get through.

This has totally been one of those weeks. Not because it's been a bad week. Though it has had some pretty bad highlights to it. Which I'm not even going to get into because they are water under the bridge and a recap, however well intentioned, will just drag all those negative feelings and bad vibes back to the forefront of my brain and I really want to keep the good vibes flowing if you know what I mean. My gosh that what as a long sentence.

But this week has absolutely been dragging. Mostly because if I can just make it through Friday I won't be back here for 10 days. TEN WHOLE DAYS. Oh-my-gosh. The only vacation I've had in the last year was my maternity leave. And I don't need to tell you how non-vacation, non-restful and non-relaxing that was. In addition, the Dowd family has never gone on a beach vacation. I haven't been to the beach since I graduated from high school. The only family sort of vacations we have taken are a trip to the zoo, trip to Tweetsie, and last year we flew out to California to see family and attend my sister-in-law's baby shower before everyone moved to NC.

So I'm just trying to take everything a day at a time and focus on the good stuff. Like the fact that I'm down yet another pound. Putting me one pound under my goal weight of 118, though I am no longer TRYING to lose weight. I guess it's a good sort of problem. And probably not one I will have after a week on vacation. Though I do plan on continuing my daily walk while we're at the beach and don't intend to suck down greasy burgers and milkshakes three meals a day or anything.

I've also seen Elly crawling. Like, really crawling. I don't know if she has temporarily given up on walking or if she has finally realized that walking is a little out of her physiological reach right now and that ANY mobility is better than none. It's going to be really hard on Evie. REALLY hard on Evie. Until she adjusts, there will probably be lots of yelling and knocked noggins. That's Evie's response whenever Elly does something terribly unacceptable or will simply not yield to Evie's incessant screaming of "SISSY!" or "NO!"--she knocks Elly on the head. Mobility is a good sort of problem for us to have though.

Evie simply won't stop talking. About helicopters and the moon and Duck and our trip and Ma's and the new porch (at Ma's) and Daddy and herself and Dora and Mickey and...well, you get the idea. It's non-stop. I just take a DEEP breath and remind myself that not too long ago I fretted and worried because she wasn't talking. Well, I am eating those words.

The best news is that it's finally Thursday. I've got so much to do this weekend that it'll be Monday before I know it. I just have to make it through another day or so at work and I'll be home free. Then I'll be trying to pack and make sure everything is done and oh wow, there is so much to remember to TAKE when you are traveling with two very little people.

So, its been a week chocked full of the good sorts of problems. I'm feeling quite blessed and fortunate. Looking forward to a weekend of packing and making lists (which I will check more than twice!). I am going to make a pot of chicken and dumplins. Maybe go pick some pumpkins. Yep, life is good.

My Favorite Decade

Some people loved the 60s. Some long for the 90s. Some people are pretty tickled right here in the 00s...10s...whatever we're calling this one. I personally miss the 80s.

Now I know I was non-existent for half of the 80s. And I don't remember the other half. But many of my favorite things came from the 80s.

My favorite movies...The Breakfast Club, Pretty in Pink, Sixteen Candles, Risky Business, Top Gun, Raiders of the Lost Ark, Dead Poets Society, Dirty Dancing, and When Harry Met Sally.

My favorite music...Jessie's Girl, Bette Davis Eyes, Take It On the Run, Elvira, Tusk, Every Breath You Take, Sweet Child O' Mine, Girls Just Want to Have Fun, Like A Virgin, The Boys of Summer, Careless Whisper...etc.

And of course, phenomenal bands/singers: Michael Jackson, Poison, Bon Jovi, Whitesnake, Madonna, Cyndi Lauper, Tina Turner, U2, The Police, Billy Idol, Duran Duran, Prince, Heart, Journey, Hall & Oates, Air Supply, Blondie.

It was the decade when MTV came into existence and actually played music. The days of big hair bands and leg warmers with tights and shoulder pads with elastic headbands and Aviator shades. The advent of Heavy Metal and the Valley Girl. The mini-skirt came into fashion and Ralph Lauren and Calvin Klein became household names. Jane Fonda released her first aerobics video. They were the days of Dallas and Dynasty and Miami Vice. The days of Princess Diana and Ronald Reagan. The Challenger exploded, Mount St Helen erupted, the Exxon Valdez spilled, Chernobyl melted down, the Cold War ended and the Berlin Wall fell. Cocaine and crack became mainstream while the First Lady started the "Just Say No" campaign. John Lennon was assassinated. Reagan was shot. The original Nintendo was released and the IBM PC became mainstream.

Everybody bought a Boombox, a Walkman and a VCR. Watched Thundercats and Transformers, The Cosby Show, Full House, Saved by the Bell and the Golden Girls.

It was a phenomenal era. I don't remember much of it, but I have fond memories from the 5 years that I was alive. I remember dancing around the living room with my mom on Saturday mornings listening to Fleetwood Mac and Heart albums. I remember my mom's Chevy Camaro and listening to Christmas music from tapes.

I definitely have a greater appreciation for the 80s looking back at them. I certainly wasn't old enough to care about the fashion and the music then. I didn't realize I had been born during such a spectacular decade. But hey, maybe that's one of the things that makes it so spectacular to look back on!

 

Appendix to My Previous List

So, since I published Monday's post I keep realizing these weird things about myself. Funny how that works. I spent all day Monday coming up with my 10 and then I have 10 more without having even put forth ANY effort.

*Like the fact that I make lists for EVERYTHING.

*Or my seriously abnormal fear of camel crickets. Have you seen those things? No joke. They are horrifying. They have long hairy legs and bulbous bodies and creepy sticky-outty eyes. Eesh. I shudder just to think about them. Especially because when you go into the basement and turn on the light they freak slap out. And they jump all willy nilly. And they end up jumping ON TO ME! It is truly a horrific and traumatizing sort of experience.

*Or that I cannot eat a tuna sandwich without BBQ potato chips.

*Or how about the fact that I can read things upside down and backwards.

*I cannot sleep with socks on my feet. If for some freakish reason I am able to fall asleep with socks on my feet, they get kicked off during the night. Usually though I feel kinda like my feet are suffocating if I'm wearing socks in the bed.

*I am ridiculously ticklish and hate being tickled. Because I pretty much collapse in giggles and it kinda hurts.

*Even the roof of my mouth is ticklish. Seriously.

*My favorite drink is Cherry Limeade. My favorite movies of all time are Jaws, Sixteen Candles and Babe.

*I don't think I will ever be brave enough to try and light a propane grill. I am just so accident prone without trying to mix gas and an open flame.

*I like to drink a hot cup of green tea in the afternoon.

See look at all these weird things about me! haha.

Successes and failures of dieting

So, I work in a job that requires us to wear a uniform to work Monday through Thursday. On the weekends (Friday included) we get to wear our blue jeans with a work shirt. Today, for the FIRST time, I'm wearing jeans that don't have an elastic waist for the first time since last July. They aren't my size 5's or even my size 7's. They're size 11's. They're the jeans that I bought a few months after Evie was born because I was tired of wearing maternity jeans. It's a success, and although it does feel like a success it is a bittersweet one.

A year ago now I had finally gotten back down into my size 5's and my small shirts. I had lost 70 lbs since Evie's birth in August and was incredibly proud of myself. It took a LOT of hard work and perseverance. I stuck to my low-calorie diet, did belly dancing and a couple hundred crunches every day. EVERY day. And it paid off. I weighed around 125 lbs when I quit officially "dieting." Though I wanted to get back down into the teens where I had been the summer before I had Evie.

I started slacking some on the diet before I got pregnant. I had probably gained around 5-10 lbs but its hard to say since it's not like I was going to the doctor or anything to see what I weighed once a month. At my first couple of prenatal visits my weight was in the 130s. And at that point I really shouldn't have been gaining preggo weight. So it was probably just my laziness.

By the end of my pregnancy I weighed 195 lbs. I was kinda devastated because I had gained as much weight as I had with my first pregnancy, except this time I had stayed fairly active, walking several times a week and chasing a one-year old around several hours a day, and had watched what I ate. I ate fast food sparingly and never got a "large" meal, unlike with my first pregnancy where I just assumed the weight would be easy to lose and just ate whatever I wanted. Being a bit wiser the second time I kept my calorie and fat intake down but despite my efforts, I was just as big at the end. Since the baby was smaller, I guess I was bigger.

Elly is about 9 weeks old now and I have lost about 46 lbs. Technically I've lost 50 lbs since I lost 45, regained 4 when I started birth control (stupid hormones) and then lost 5. I currently weight about 149 lbs. And while I can't fit into my size 8 uniform pants or my size 7 jeans, the size 11 jeans are a little roomy. And the size 14 uniform pants that a coworker gave me to wear until I get into my usual ones work but they're definitely way too big.

I'm not denying that I've made a lot of progress in 2 months. And I'm definitely on track to be back down at 125 by the six month mark like I was the first time. Just 24 more pounds!

But at the same time, spring is here and summer is fast approaching. Down here in the south, we don't have a lot of time between snow and sauna. Seems like one week you're building a snow man, the next it's 100 degrees and the air is so thick you can hardly breathe. Soon I will need to be wearing shorts and tank tops and showing lots of skin and I'm a long ways from being able to fit into my summer clothes. After Evie I had all winter to get skinny. Winter means sweatpants, sweatshirts, sweaters and jeans. Baggy, loose-fitting clothes that don't show any skin or extra weight. Summer clothes aren't as forgiving. Plus, since I've never been 140-some pounds during the summer before I don't have clothes to fit a 140-some-pound me. My shorts, tee shirts and tank tops were all bought when I was a smaller, more fit person and I cringe at the thought of going shopping with my two-babies-in-two-years body. In all honesty, I want to curl up in the fetal position and cry. Well, I do cry a little bit.

This is the summer before I got pregnant with Evie.


It's just hard.

So my goal now is 24 more pounds to be back to a happy weight. Thirty pounds and I will be walking on air, ecstatic and beyond happy. If I can lose 10 lbs a month then I will be back to a normal size before Evie's birthday. And I'll just suffer through the summer in athletic shorts and baggy t-shirts.

But dieting is so hard. And so frustrating. And losing weight takes time. And requires eating lots of boring food!

Like this...

Stupid weight loss shakes. Though, unlike most people who drink them, I do actually like them. I just get bored drinking them every morning for breakfast. And them having one for lunch or supper some days.

I'd much rather have some of these...

Blueberry muffins that I made Evie this morning. She ate three. And a piece of cheese. And drank a huge cup of whole milk. It's frustrating when you're jealous of what your kid is eating.

Of course, it's all worth the two precious girls that I go home to every night. Even if one of them likes to steal my lean pockets and the other won't let me have 5 minutes to do crunches in the morning. I love them more than I loved being a size 5. But I hope that one day in the not too far future I will get to have both. In the meantime I stick to my 1200 calorie, high protein diet. I do at least 50 crunches every day after the girls are asleep and we go for walks as often as time and weather allow.

And of course there's this cutie-patootie...(who I swear is already trying to say "momma"...is that possible?)

My daughter is a punk...but man how I miss her!

Okay, so we've been wanting Evie to talk more. Or, honestly, I have been wanting her to talk more. Everyone else seems pretty relaxed about it. So, I learned last week that she talks for her Dad. When he has a day off and stays home, lil Evie stays with him. And apparently on those days she uses her words quite regularly. "Juice," "milk," "more," "done," etc. are all heard frequently. She NEVER does that for me. The punk. Well apparently she also talked non-stop for her grandparents when she spent the night with them. The punk!

Anyways, this weekend Evie had her first overnight visit with my in-laws. For those who don't know, my in-laws live 90 minutes away in a mountain town. Right now they have over two-foot of snow on the ground and for awhile when planning this visit, we weren't sure it would happen due to the weather. But everything cleared up and my mother-in-law came down Saturday, along with my sister-in-law and the grandmother, for my baby shower. Afterwards, I packed Evie a bag so she could go back up the mountain with them. This is only the second time in her life that she has spent the night away from me while I stayed home. When I worked nights and my husband was working she did occasionally have to spend the night with her Mimi. But it wasn't like I was home without her. I was working. Plus she was only 15 minutes away. Not 90. If something happened and she needed something, if she were to be sick or whatever, I could get her and be home in less than half an hour. And I admit to having problems worrying about her and fretting at night when she wasn't home in her bed.

While I was packing Evie's bag I cried. No joke. Cried. I managed to hug her bye and maintain a smile for her. Then as they headed out the door I cried again. And cried as they packed up into the car. And cried when they left. Heck, I'm starting to get teary-eyed just remembering it! My husband sat next to me on the couch and hugged me. He told me if it was going to be that hard on me we could call them to bring her back. But no, Evie was excited to be going with her Nanny. And I told him I couldn't keep her home forever. Sometime I had to start letting her get out and do things. So I sat on the couch and cried for a little bit while my baby girl headed to her grandparents' house.

One of the reasons we had agreed to let the grandparents take her for the night was so my hubby and I could have one final date night before another baby arrived. We had big plans to go out and have dinner, watch a movie, maybe see what else we could get into. Instead, by the time I had cleaned up from the shower, I was exhausted and Josh admitted he was pretty tired as well. We didn't even leave the house. We ate some pizza and caught up on our Netflix queue and watched all the shows we had DVR'd. Ended up staying late just sitting on the couch talking. It was nice.

I managed to sleep in an hour the next day and finally dragged Josh out of bed around 11 a.m. because I couldn't stand how quiet the house was. On a normal day I'd have gotten up early and made breakfast while Evie whined about being hungry. Cleaned up after that and spent the rest of the morning chasing Evie around, playing with her, and trying to keep her from destroying the house. Instead, when I cleaned the house, it stayed clean. There was no one following behind me to pull out the stuffed animals I put up, or crawl on the bed I made, or splash water while I refilled the humidifiers. I emptied the dishwasher without my usual "help." Of course, it took half the time. But I still missed Evie holding up bowls and silverware for me to identify for her before she helped put it away. Once the chores were done I just sat on the couch. Feeling pretty useless. I mostly played my DS and watched Josh play PS3 and stalked my mother-in-law's Facebook page since she was regularly posting pics of Evie. I did manage to take a nap, which I haven't managed in months and was proud of.

Evie came home last night and now there are once more toys scattered all over, fingerprints on the window and some spilled juice on the ottoman. Life is as it should be. She had a fabulous time with her grandparents and made snow cream (ice cream made from snow) and went to church and just absolutely was a blast to be with. They raved about how smart she is (of course she is!) and how good she was. I was happy to hear that when they asked if she was ready to go home she grabbed her things and ran to the door waiting on them.

I'm proud of how well she and I both did. It gives me hope for our next big challenge coming up tomorrow: Day Care.