ssshhhh

The house is quiet; the sun is sinking lower in the sky.  I love this twilight time of day, but rarely do I get to enjoy it alone in my house with nothing but the hum of the fridge and the whirr of my computer in the background of my thoughts.

Christmas is past; 2012 is just on the horizon (I can see it!), and I am hoping for a good...no, great... year.  It's healthy to be optimistic, right?

Things feel weird and strange and surreal and different lately.  Me, my life and I.

I have this insatiable need to clean everything out of my house, but I'm not so successful at the actual follow through; I think about it constantly, though.  I need to get rid of the things that make me feel weighed down, burdened.  I feel like I did when I was a kid and I would build something up with Legos only to break it apart and start over again.  Purge.  Rebirth.  But how?  It's easier to do at age 8 with Legos than at age (almost) 41 with a family.

I love my husband, my kids, my friends, my family, my home...I just feel like what needs demolition and rebuilding is within me.


Time to break the silence.

here we go a caroling...

Today was a weird day.

It started out with me, my mom and my aunt meeting at my grandparents' house to go through my grandma's Christmas decorations and pick out what we each wanted.  Originally I asked my grandpa a few weeks ago if I could have one decoration that my grandma had for as long as I can remember: a set of carolers that she painted.

My grandma was very artistic; she painted wonderfully, and she also wrote poetry.  For a person who never went to school beyond 8th grade, she was very well-read and was a great writer.  However, painting is what I think most people would remember about my grandma's artistic side (well, and her cake decorating).  She worked at a ceramics shop for awhile, and she had a lot of different figurines in her home that she painted; we all had been given gifts that she painted for us.  Every grandkid has a piggy bank hand-painted by grandma among other various knick knacks.  She tried on several occasions to teach me how to paint, but I just don't have that creative gene.

But the carolers... I loved them, especially!  

I asked to borrow them this year because it made me sad that my grandma's cherished Christmas decorations wouldn't see the sparkle of the Christmas lights again this year.  My grandpa decided that he would have me, my mom and my aunt go through and divide among ourselves the Christmas decorations.  

I told my mom and my aunt that all I wanted were the carolers.  

Now the carolers are residing on my fireplace mantle.  I was also allowed to take home some very vintage angels that are probably from the late 1950s or early 1960s.  They are also on my mantle.  I love seeing these decorations in my home; it's so much better than having them packed up in boxes for another year.  

My grandma marked all of her figurines with the year and her name (it's usually carved in the bottom because she would pour the mold, then put her name on the bottom, I guess).  The carolers were made in 1971--the year I was born and the year of my first Christmas.  

The angels. 

The carolers.

ich habe keine idee

But I have many, many wonderful and witty ideas all day long.
Then I open my blogger dashboard and ....whoosh.... all my wonderful wit dissolves into dur, dur, dur.

Today we got our ginormous tree, which would not fit where I wanted to put it.  I have to say, our tree looks really freaking awesome with our new floors and our painted walls.

It was bizarro to pick a tree with only one of our kids instead of two (like every year from 1996-1999 and last year) or three (like every year from 2000-2009).  Maya missed her sisters and once again I was sad that we didn't have just one more kid for Maya to chum around with.

Speaking of bizarro, my oldest daughter moved into her 2nd apartment.  Townhome, really.  She's all mature and responsible; I'm glad I didn't strangle her during her teen years, as I almost did time and time again, because she has turned into a well-adjusted adult.  Those teen years were hell, though.  No joke.

I skipped both of my boot camp classes this week because I was so tired all week long.  It sucked.  Also, as of today it has been 84 days since my last menstrual period.  No, I am not pregnant.  I just had a pap a week or two after that period, and the pap came back normal, so I also do not have cancer.  Therefore, I must be menopausal even though my dumbass condescending doctor claims that I am too young to be menopausal.

What does she know.

Tomorrow I visit Brazil for the third time.
Pray for me.

My "I" post

Mexico was awesome.

I met my goal (125) by the time we left for our trip.

I gained 5lbs while on our all-inclusive (food and drinks--alcoholic and non-alcoholic) trip, but I am already down 2lbs (we've been home for 3 weeks).

I signed up for boot camp *again*, and I was dry-heaving a few times during the 90-minute class this past Monday.  Wednesday was better.  I do not recommend 3 weeks without exercise.

I really want to try CrossFit, but Wayne is not digging that idea.

Also, I've decided that I totally would be down with lipo and tummy tuck.  Please, Santa?