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Tag Archives: growing up

A Bedding Problem

Ya’ll took it there, didn’t you?

It’s not that kind of problem.

Remember my leather problem?  Turns out I have a bedding problem, too.  A big one.  I can’t stop looking for new bedding because I want our new apartment (moving in September) to look like grownups live there…

What do you think?  What color scheme should I go with?  I can’t paint the walls, but if I spend enough on this comforter, it will come to my first house with me.  It’s overload!

Here’s my Pinterest Bedding page.  Any suggestions on where to get a decent deal or what colors I should go with?  Why is this so hard?!

 

 

 
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Posted by on July 31, 2012 in Daily Happenings

 

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Welp, I’m 27.

Yesterday was my 27th birthday.  It is what it is, I suppose.

I hung out with friends on Friday night.  I went to my parents’ house on Saturday and drank wine with Mike and my brother.  We drove around Port Clinton for awhile, grabbed a surprise for my good friends Scott and Michelle down in North Carolina, and lay low.

On Sunday, my parents took us out to eat and then we were back in Brunswick.  On Monday, I got hibachi and sushi at Shinto with my coworkers. 🙂

The highlight:  Mike bought me a tent…which I promptly set up in my living room! I can officially go tent camping!

Thanks to everyone for making it a great birthday. 🙂

 
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Posted by on April 23, 2012 in Daily Happenings

 

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HOW TERRIFYING (read: Stupid Alarmists)

Hello to all the Alarmist Helicopter parents out there.  How are you?  Oh, you’re stressed out?  What happened?  Let me guess–your kid got some mud under her fingernails…or she played on a playground without something soft for her to land on should she take a tumble.

I feel like Sue Sylvester would have a lot to say about this.

KIDS ARE KIDS!  Not porcelain.  Unless you’re “Kurt” from Glee, and let’s be honest–he’s pretty amazingly tough.  Kids are tough, and they’re bouncy and bendable and they do not need to be coddled 100% of the time.

I came across this article today containing photos of kids doing what kids should be doing.  Games that are considered–by today’s standards–dangerous and terrifying!  All photos are property of Getty Images as published on the Daily Mail’s website.  

Helicopter Mom: "Basketball on roller skates? You'll crack your head open!"

Only two on the teeter-totter at once? What fun is that?

This looks like a fark of a lot of fun.

I don't know what this thing is...but I feel like I would have had a lot of fun on it.

Fighting is a part of life. Builds character, and makes you much less of a wimp.

What if she falls? She'll laugh, get up, and do it again.

I don't know what this is...but I'm buying my kids one.

Cool parents actually get on and ride along.

I recall the jungle gym/monkey bars. My favorite part of recess.

Remember, parents.  Kids are bendy.  They’re not going to break.  And if they do, God forbid they get to wear a super cool cast on their right forearm for a few months and have all their little friends sign it and be the envy of the entire school.

 
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Posted by on April 19, 2012 in Raising My Youngins

 

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Desperate Attempt to Return to My Adolescence

I am ashamed to admit this…  But apparently not ashamed enough to tell you.

Last night, in a desperate attempt to return to my adolescence, I got on the internet and searched “Backstreet Boys Fanfiction”.  You see, in junior high, I was the textbook example of a teenybopper.  There was no “Team Edward” “Team Jacob” bullshit.  You were either a Backstreet Boys fan, or an N*Sync fan.

I was full-on BSB.  My friend Caitlin and I ate, drank, and slept BSB.  We went to concerts, recorded TV appearances, watched TRL on the phone together.  We stole a banner (I need to find that in my parents’ basement) and even went so far as to chase their tour bus on foot…  I’m not proud of that.

But we had a notebook that we passed back and forth in the hallways of our junior high.  This notebook was filled with (obviously) fictional stories about Nick Carter, Brian Littrell, and Caitlin and me.  They were all fairly innocent, consistently ending on a yacht in Florida during my marriage to Nick and Caitie’s marriage to Brian.

Then I started turning to the interwebs to see what else people were writing about the Backstreet Boys–and my mind was blown.  People wrote DIRTY stories about the BSB.  And on top of that (haha) people wrote slash fanfiction about them (slash = guy on guy in the fanfic world)!  I was appalled.  That’s not to say that I didn’t read some of the dirty BSB stories.  I credit much of my sexual education to online fanfiction.

Obviously, the BSB fell off the map, and I grew up and just started buying Harlequin romance novels.  But last night, I wanted to read about the good ole Backstreet Boys.  And to my HUGE disappointment…there is hardly any fanfiction left about them!

It’s probably been about 12 years since I last searched it.  Crazy how the internet changes.  And crazy how things you never thought would disappear…do.

PS, you can laugh at me.  I did.

 
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Posted by on April 11, 2012 in Daily Happenings

 

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TOLD YOU SO: DIRT is Good For You!

Thanks to my friends over at The Social Silo for bringing this to my attention:  playing in the dirt is actually good for you!  

According to a study by Oregon State University, “Little girls growing up in western society are expected to be neat and tidy – “all ribbon and curls” – and one researcher who studies science and gender differences thinks that emphasis may contribute to higher rates of certain diseases in adult women.”

Photo Property of The Social Silo

It’s a pretty entertaining read.  Plus, if I remember correctly, I told you to let your kids play in the dirt long ago.

 
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Posted by on April 10, 2012 in Raising My Youngins

 

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On Aging: From 6 to 7…

In 12 days, I turn 27.

I tend to have an issue going from ages that end in 6 to ages that end in 7.  It seems like such a huge change.

I mean, from age 6 to age 7, you go from kindergarten to first grade.  Huge.

From 16 to 17, you go from carefree and fun-loving to starting to worry about college, and where you’ll go, and what you want to do with your life. HUGER.

And now, I’ll go from 26 to 27.  26.  My “mid-twenties”.  I’ll go into my waning late-twenties.  27.  Three years from 30.  27.

7 even looks like a more mature number than 6.  6 is like a little chubby kid, round and lopped over and standing steady on a wide base.  7 is like the cooler older sister that 6 tries to be–tall, slim, standing high in stilettos.

But with that tall, slim figure and heightened view come bigger responsibilities:  being a grown-up, fighting with your own insurance company (highlight of my day, lemme tell ya), picking your battles, battling your biological clock, money.  And that, my friends, is the HUGEST.

Mike told me last night that people are happiest at the age of 33.  I believe it.  You’re far away from 6’s and 7’s, you’ve probably got some routine to your life, people that you’re happy with, maybe even some nuggets.

But for now, I’m fighting 7–enjoying my last 12 days as a chubby kid who hasn’t yet had the realization that there’s no going back to childhood at this point–that each year now is just another year closer to more responsibility…and I hope some pleasant surprises.

 
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Posted by on April 10, 2012 in Daily Happenings

 

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Greener Grass from the Window of a One-Bedroom Apartment?

Last night, I went out to Panini’s in Brunswick to celebrate my friend Greg‘s birthday.  As we were sitting around the fire pit on the patio, I got into a conversation about how I wanted out of my apartment and into…and how some of the guys around me wanted out of their houses and back into apartments.

Let’s get the facts down first:  I hate living in apartments.  I hate the people around me.  I hate the noise.  I hate shared walls. I hate having to unlock two doors to get to my place (even though that makes me feel safe).  My first apartment in Brunswick was pretty much underground…full of spiders…dark…damp.  I felt like a mushroom.

My second apartment is bigger–still on the first floor–but nonetheless, it is still an apartment.  It’s a two-bedroom, but I can honestly count the times I’ve opened the door to that second bedroom on one hand.

Now back to the bar conversation–the guys have houses-nice big houses-that I would kill for.  They have driveways and garages and yards.  They have a home–a reason to decorate and actually make it feel like a home.

Now me–I don’t have a yard.  I can’t even hang a bird-feeder for the cardinals.  I don’t have a balcony (1st floor), and I can’t open my windows because the fucking (white trash) smokers at the front door (who have awesome grammar and language skills, by the way) stand there and bitch and blow smoke into my windows.  I don’t normally judge–but seriously.  I am alone in my apartment.  I have all the time and space to myself.  And I hate it.

Now, the guys I was talking to–the ones with their nice houses and their yards–sometimes long to be back in the one-bedroom apartment stage of their lives.  WHY?!

Simplicity–yes, I understand that.  And that’s pretty much it.  I mean, I don’t get it.

But maybe it’s a gender roles thing.  Maybe men want to go back to that primitive way, and women want to move forward?  Maybe…  Or maybe it’s because I am alone and long for Mike to be with me in my living arrangement, and once you’re older and have been with someone for awhile, you want to go back to solitude.  I don’t know. I don’t get it.

All I know is that I can’t be bothered to decorate my apartment to make it feel like home because it isn’t home.  It’s a temporary place that will hold me until I can find a place with Mike to call home.

Maybe the grass is just never greener out of your current window.

 
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Posted by on April 5, 2012 in Daily Happenings

 

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