You know you were like this . . .

At least I was. I cared (still do) what people think of me and I just want to be liked.

Remember high school? Ok, for me high
school was fun. I was neither miss popularity nor was
I the outcast. I was shy. I let out my personality on
stage and school plays and choir concerts and it was
then that I was noticed. I was quiet, but funny (or at
least I tried to be). I was friends with the "in"
crowd and made certain that I was also friends with
the not so "in" crowd. It was pretty easy for me to
bond with someone from the earth club and at the same time, pass notes in chem class with someone who
sneaked cigarettes under the big oak tree at lunch
while painting their nails with black marker. I had
cheerleading friends and choir friends. I pretty much
got along with all the groups. In fact, I was usually just excited enough to have someone who like me.

I was always shy and never initiated the friend thing. I almost always waited for someone to come up and talk to me when I was a kid or to ask me to play. I never did the asking. I was just too shy.

Now, I am in between. Depending on the circumstance, my mood and comfort level, I will be all out and friendly or I will be on the DL - the quiet observer.

What hasn't changed is that I get really excited when I meet a friend that I click with. I don't have many close friends. I have many aquaintences that I see at playgroup or swim class and about 2 really close friends that are like family. But there is something lacking - not married, no kids. And while I am not discriminating and they are ever so much my friends regardless - I still crave a really good girlfriend who's in a similar boat.

I've got all these great women online to talk to, but it's just not the same as grabbing a coffee with the babies and talking dirty diapers and grocery lines.

So this Friday I met some great girls. My style, my boat. Funny and fun. We had a lot in common, lived in same places. Might even share family on the east coast. We're looking into it. Both have babies and are in the same place in our lives.

Anyway, I was all giddy when I was asked for my number. What am I a 13 year old getting asked to the Spring Fling? I know, it's so miniscule, but I was so excited about it. I really ache for a really good girlfriend and I'm hoping some good husband friends as well.

So while I am not desperately waiting by the phone for 9th grade plaid shirted quaterback Gary to call me like he said he would, I am very excited to hang with a new friend.

And just like that . . .

My son is one year old! I am the mother of a toddler.
Somewhere along the path of questioning every poop and
burp, I became a mother that is, for the most part,
relatively relaxed and oddly enough - ready to do it again.

Well, I am ready and I am not ready. During the
regular routine day I am ready. But, then during the
nostalgic music listening, picture flipping moments I
am not sure if I am ready. I will be so sad or maybe
sad isn't the word, but I will long for the days when
it was just our little boy and I don't mean that in a
bad way. I am overjoyed at the thought of trying to
have another baby and thinking of Logan as a big
brother, but I know that I will think back and miss
those days of it being just me and my boy.

Is it really possible that I will love another baby as
much? I know I will. I know it will be different, but
I just love this little boy so much it seems
impossible to love anything as much.

I know the day will come that I will write how much I
love the new little person, but for right now I will
enjoy every moment of Logan being an only child.

I put all of myself into Logan and it will be strange
to have another little person to share that with.

I am an only child, so I do not have hands on
experience of sharing my parents.

But, about my boy. I just can't beleive that I have this little person who crawls around the bathtub and stands up and plops down and splashes and lays on his belly and dips his face in the water. This from a tiny 7 pound little muffin who was content to just lay in an infant bathseat while his mother freaked out that she would drop the little slippery minnow.

Just one year. All that has happened in this year and bam - he's 1.

This mother's day is such a gift. I am so proud to be "ma ma". I am so proud to change dirty diapers and wipe drooly chins. I am so proud to kiss boo boos and dry tears. I am so proud to get food splashed over my brand new white peasant shirt. I am so proud to have put that smile on that face and the laughter into that soul. I am so proud to have given birth to a precious being 1 year ago. I am a mother and I am so proud of it.

Never speak too soon.

That's exactly what I did with my last post and it's
partly the reason I have not written in awhile.

Our efforts on the driveway turned out ok, but our
efforts on the concrete in our yard and front pathway,
did not. No, they did not. I thought they did, but as
it continued to dry, it was not a pretty sight. And it
took DH several hours to powerwash it off one square
inch at a time.

So as I stated before, yes as always, we now have to
call in the professionals.

And I will waste no more time on the matter.

On to the next . . .

Not Equipped

My husband and I have many a times taken on the task of handymen in our home. We’ve attempted plumbing, carpentry, electric and renovation. And the result? An expensive bill from a handyman, plumber, carpenter and electrician.

We are not equipped for this stuff. We may be equipped. It’s the actual use of equipment that leads us to questions like, “Is this a piece of crap or are we stupid?” “So they really think that the majority of the population can figure out how to put this thing together?” “Oh, there’s a water shut off?” “What’s a drill bit?”

The pride I had when I was able to change all the cabinetry hardware and door knobs was immeasurable.

My dad always told me that I best marry a man who knows how to work on cars and fix things in the home, as my attempts, though approached with great enthusiasm, usually ended up in a temper being lost.

Well, my husband came along with the same enthusiasm and that’s about it.

We try, we really do. When the neighbors see us working on a project, they know it’s best to run and hide or they’ll be over to help when something goes wrong. My parents know it’s best to not answer their phone and pretend they were at a movie.

BUT, last night I must say we did a fairly good job at power washing our driveway pavers and the concrete around the pool. And we sealed it all with a wet-look sealer, which I must say turned out quite nice – so far.

I think I was most impressed with us being able to figure out how to use the sprayer.

These things are laughable to most people, but I tell you, while we may excel in other areas – home repair and fixing up is not one of them. And the sad thing is – we really like doing it all even if we are a disaster.

I can decorate. I can paint. I can clean mighty well. My husband is great at maintaining the yard. But when it comes to fixing fences and using drills, the job is always less than satisfactory.

So in our attempts to save money and do it ourselves, we actually spend more then if we just called someone and had it done the right way.

But, we’ll still keep trying.