Several Things Have Happened to Us. Most of Them Uneventful.

I want to thank you all so much for the kind comments you offered me on my previous post. I was so happy to hear from my old friends (and new ones too!). Thank you for all your words of encouragement in dealing with my bout of depression, not to mention the advice for my hair. You all made my heart smile and it meant so very much to me. After all, if it’s one thing my hair could use it’s advice. If it’s two things my hair could use, well, then it would be advice and a salon strength leave in conditioner.

I feel it only fair to let you know I’ve also received several complaints about my last post. All of these came in a series of phone calls from my mother. She was a little concerned that I didn’t include any updates on the kiddos in my entry and reminded me that several people including her nail lady, her masseuse and her friends from craft night would like to see more written about the little ones. Message received.

I guess it’s true what they say, you can’t please everybody. But I may as well try to please my mother, her friends, her manicurist and her masseuse, right? (Is it just me, or does my mom leads a pretty swanky life?)

So, if you’re one of those people who don’t really care to know what a random blogger’s children have been up to over the past six months, then please avert your eyes now. However, if you are NOT one of those people and you ARE interested, then buckle up, because this kiddie ride is about to get moving.

Also, if you are Julee, my Aunt Jean, my cousins, my sister-in-laws or my parole officer, then this post is for you too. Wait, I’m totally kidding. I’m pretty sure my parole officer doesn’t read me anymore.

Official update on family status: Jeremy continued being awesome and somewhat burly in 2009. Plain and simple. He had several projects at work that required him to log many hours on the phone and traveling and we missed him when he was out of town. But the kids and I partied it up while he was gone. Think Happy Meals + magic markers = newly painted walls.

I spent the second half of 2009 obsessing over Tiger Woods, my recycling habits and suffering a vitamin C deficiency. (I’m almost positive these three things are not at all related.) I plan to spend 2010 eating my weight in burritos, breaking in my new neti pot and cleaning up messes. (Sadly, those three things are related.)

Henry turned five this year. He experienced Lagoon (local amusement park) and sushi for the first time. He continued his love of hotel swimming pools, shoes, super heroes and any foods with cheese. (Except for foods with cheese cooked in them. Don’t even get me started.) He’s overjoyed about the prospect of starting Kindergarten next year because he thinks it will be just like a Hannah Montana episode.

Reese, who is two now, spends the bulk of her time following Henry around or dressing up in princess play clothes. Although Henry has the upper hand in age, weight and general girth, make no mistake, Reese dominates him psychologically and can reduce him to tears by just touching his Bakugan toys with her big toe. I have undeniable evidence that Reese is responsible for instigating the magic marker drawing on our walls. And sometimes her face.

We are totally taking the cost of the new paint out of your inheritance, little girl.

No, Your Reader Isn't Deceiving You.

I’m a woman of leisure.

No, wait. I take that back.

I’m a woman of leisure pants. Ratty old leisure pants. You know, the soft, full of holes pair with that unfortunate stain? Yeah, I’m that woman.

But I didn’t post today to talk about my pants. I posted today to simply post something today. The story about my pants? That was nothing but an awkward introduction to the rest of my post.

But as long as we’re on the subject of my pants……

There are very few things in this life that will force me to jump out of my leisure pants. I love them that much. They are stretchy and forgiving and they are black so they hide just about everything except for mustard stains that pop up and say HELLO! when you are cosmic bowling with your family.

Okay, so let’s address the elephant in the room, shall we? Where have I been for six+ months? Frankly, I don’t know. I’ve been here. Sort of. I wish I had interesting and witty barbs about all my adventures through the second half of 2009, but I don’t. (Did I mention the mustard stain on my favorite pants already? Sadly, that was the highlight of my entire month of November.)
I have a confession: Around June, I just sort of lost it. Lost my zest and interest in my life. I became depressed. I no longer felt it was good to be me and I questioned my place and my purpose. It was as though I woke up one day and everything that I had once found interesting, exciting and fun, I suddenly found “Meh.” That includes my blog. And especially my hair.

Can I take a break from all this serious, touchy, feely talk to take you on a tangent and discuss the situation with my hair on my self-imposed break? A big part of my depression was my lethargy and lack of energy. This manifested itself in me not wanting to wash my hair with the frequency I had before. Gross, I know. But before you judge me and my unkempt hair, keep reading.

Now, you probably already know that I have very curly hair. It actually looks and feels better day two and three after a shampooing. My hair doesn’t grease up if I don’t wash it, in fact, it does quite the opposite and actually becomes somewhat more manageable, however, it also becomes big. I mean BIG BIG, like Delta Burke on Designing Women BIG.

I can’t tell you how many times a co-worker or my mother-in-law asked me if I was doing something “new” with my hair and they gave me a long, quizzical look. Well, if you consider going four or five days between shampooing then the answer is Why of course, yes! I am absolutely doing something new with my hair. It’s called the Delta and I’m totally rockin’ it.

But folks, I am here today to proclaim to the internets that I have been washing my hair regularly. I have been happy to get out of bed. And today….well, today, I bought myself a brand new pair of stretchy pants.

I was hoping that 2010 would end up being a whole lot better than my 2009. I’m happy to report that three weeks in, as far as the absence of mustard stains and lack of 80’s hair go, for me, this year has been a tiny bit badass.