Merry and Bright

For those of you probably thrown by the pathetic and disgustingly-egocentric mess that was my last post...have no fear, I am over myself!

I am not, however, over my stupendous husband who happened to be accepted to dental school this month! WOOT WOOT!  (It's not egocentric if I'm talking about my spouse, right?!)  At this moment, we are decidedly leaving La Jolla for Detroit in the fall. 

Holy friggin' juxtaposition, Batman!

It's fantastic though, and we are thrilled!  He has another interview coming up and several schools still reviewing his application, so our destination could still change.  

On a different note, Christmas was extra special this year as I had the stomach flu leading up 'til the big event.  

-6 pounds from flu + 6 pounds from holiday binging = the first year with no Christmas weight gain!

All kinds of new and exciting things in 2012 for the Lange Family!

Hope your holidays are wonderful!

Fix You

  I have a lot of pretty heavy things on my mind right now, and I really just want to write, to just put everything down and be free of it.  But I am frozen with anxiety thinking about a false audience, and the perceptions that people might have of me.  How lame!  Seriously, there are only like seven people that even read this blog, and I would assume that most people would immediately leave as soon as they realized there weren't any pictures!  

I'm tired of censoring and editing my life, or sugar-coating my posts to really cover-up the main issue which is this:  life is hard and I am having a hard time figuring things out.  But this is ok, this is part of the journey.

 So, for the record, I'm officially calling bull-crap on myself right now (you'll notice my lack of censoring just then...I'm on my way!).  And to end on a more creative note, I will leave you with the words of Coldplay:

When you try your best, but you don't succeed

When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

And high up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Tears stream down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face
And I...

Tears stream down your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down your face
And I...

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Free at Last!

The little ones and I spent this past week visiting our favorite Arizonians.  It was like an early Christmas, despite the projectile vomiting and foregoing of daily naps.  We survived the 6-hour car ride on rations of Chex Mix and Big Gulps.  And of course, the only stations the radio seemed to pick up were playing non-stop Christmas music...seriously, how many versions of "The Little Drummer Boy" are there?  

The best part of this week though (besides discovering Bahama Bucks and Cafe Rio)?  I deleted my Facebook account.   

Feel free to pin a golden star on my big girl shirt anytime.

This has kinda been a long-time coming.  I've been going back and forth, but whenever I had my mouse hovering over the "Deactivate Account" button, this stupid little thing would pop up:

Pavlov's Dogs anyone?

I don't know what it is about virtual acknowledgment?  I mean, I know my kids are adorable and that the photo I took of myself in the mirror looks AMAZING (because I purposefully cropped out my double-chin and frizzy hair), but somehow it's more validating when you know 24 people from your old high school pushed the thumbs-up icon. 

I think I would end up developing an eating disorder if I stayed on Facebook too much longer.  Not kidding.  There is nothing that takes a punch to your self-esteem more than seeing one of your husband's ex-girlfriends  posting a picture of herself running a friggin' marathon, while you're sitting on the couch...stalking Facebook...wishing you could run a marathon...and eating Oreo's.  (I guess if this was the case, my eating disorder of choice would be binge-eating and purging...without the purging.)

Don't even get me started on status updates..."So proud of my three-year-old!  He just learned how to ride a bike, count to 100, and speak Elvish...all in one day!" 

My three-year-old still refers to himself in the third person and thinks chickens say, "Grrrrrr".

While I will indeed miss being able to see pictures of a friend's new baby, or an old co-worker's wedding day, or even things like Gagnam Style... I won't miss the compulsion.  The compulsion to compare my worst to someone else's best.  The compulsion to harshly judge my own life to the increasingly-falsified world of social media.  The compulsion to live for the validity of a little red notification icon.

Deactivated!

 

...

The more you love your decisions, the less you need others to love them.

How freeing.

Axtonisms Part II

Me:  Hey Axton...it's time to clean up your room because it's really dirty.
Axton:  It's not really dirty, it's awesome!



Me:  Axton, can you go get me a towel, Anchor just spit up all over me.
Axton:  Ok!

...Later that day after I've contracted food poisoning and am throwing up in the toilet...

Axton: Mommy, you need a towel?  Did you spit up all over?



Me:  Hey, do you know where Anchor's pacifier is?
Axton:  I'm thinking....it's on the bed, I think.  I'm thinking it's on the bed.



Axton:  Mommy, it's your birthday?  You want some cake?  Happy Birthday, Mommy!
Me:  Ya, it's my birthday, thank you!  Can you sing me the birthday song?
Axton:  Sighs in annoyance, "No, Mommy...I'm too big!"



Axton:  Mommy, I want some milk.
Me:  Can you ask like a big boy?
Axton:  Mommy, I want some milk RIGHT NOW.  Please!

The Good Word...

Axton:  Mommy, look!  I'm Jesus! *Twirls around in Josh's over sized shirt*

Me:  Wow, that's so cool!

Axton:  I'm Jesus and I'm alive!

Me: Ya!  Jesus lives!  Good job, buddy. *Gives into proud parental moment*

Axton:  I'm Jesus and I'm alive and...I'm HUNGRY!

Me: Ya, I guess resurrection is tough business!

Nature's Call

Today I had what will probably go down in my book as being one of the worst beach experiences of my life.  It started out pretty joyous.  I was sitting in the sand holding Anchor while Axton was frolicking in the waves.  The weather was perfect and the summer beach crowd has pretty much gone.  He could play in the water all day, and I could totally oblige. 

Well, my little moment in La La Land was pretty much smashed to bits.

My three-year-old walked out of the water, looked at me with big eyes, pulled down his pants, and started to poop.  I was pretty far away, so there was no way to salvage the situation.  "It" didn't end up on the ground but in his shorts, so the whole act of pulling his pants down was basically a failed effort and only served to alert everyone on the beach of what was going on.  This is my three-year-old who really looks like he is five, screaming, "Mommy!  My bum!  My bum hurts!  The poop!  Ouchie!"  That was probably the crowning moment of glory.

Oh, it gets better, friends.

I have a Moby wrap for Anchor.  I bring it everywhere.  It's like an instant 3-hour nap for the kid and I can man-handle Axton as needed, making adventures like today do-able.  Well, I forgot to bring it today.  I also left the diaper bag (with wipes) in the car.  The closest bathroom was like a mile away.

Picture this if you will:

"Axton, we have to walk to the bathroo.....NOOOOO!  Keep your pants on, Axton!  DO NOT TOUCH YOUR POOP!  You have to keep your pants on so we can go clean you up in the bathroo....AXTON, DON'T TOUCH YOUR BUM!"...all in harsh whispered tones as we walked waddled to the bathroom.  I'm pretty sure we were the main attraction to the huge group of teenagers next to us.  He was crying like a banshee at this point.

Then we got to the bathroom.  The disgusting, unsanitary, revolting beach bathroom.  I am holding a baby and obviously can't put him down anywhere.  I'm pretty sure we're standing in urine.  There's hardly any toilet paper.  People keep trying to open the door because the lock is broken.  Axton is screaming.  Let's just say, I really have no idea how we came out of there alive...and without some kind of disease.

Case and point: Poop Happens!