Memories

See that girl up there? That's me...not sure how old I was - maybe 10? My aunt sent me a birthday card and as is her custom, included a few old photos. Love the memories they bring back - gotta love a bowl cut and a sweet patterned turtleneck.

Big A spotted the picture and I told her it was me when I was a kid. She studied it for a minute, and then said: "You look weird, mom. I look prettier than you did." I started laughing and she says, "What, I'm prettier than you were. You look kinda weird." Thanks, kiddo. I mean, it's true...but that was the style man...I was cool. Okay, I actually wasn't. But I thought I was, and that's what really counts. Besides, it was the 80s - anything went -- faded acid-washed denim, neon, hyper color, and yes, even patterned turtlenecks. Even bowl cuts were cool - I'm looking at you, Dorothy Hamill.

There was another more recent picture in the card and Big A looked at that one too. "You look better now that you're grown-up Mommy." Well, that's reassuring. I can't wait to show her photos someday...maybe I need to give her a bowl cut just so we have something to laugh about?

Girls just wanna have fun

Big A and I just enjoyed a girls weekend and had a blast. Little A and J headed to the beach to help with some spring clean-up, and we girls stayed home for our many plans.

Saying a sisterly goodbye

We started off our weekend on Friday afternoon with a trip to the mall for...ear piercing!! Big A was so excited and her whole class sent her off with good luck. We chose some sparkly butterfly earrings and then it was time for the deed. Luckily they had 2 girls there so they could do both together.

Sidebar: There were two of the ditziest teenage girls I've ever seen...so ditzy I couldn't believe I was letting them near my kid with a needle. Sample of convo seconds before needle-handling:

Girl A: I just bought these awesome new energy pills.
Girl B: Ohh, I LOVE pills. Do you have any with you?
Girl A: Oh yeah, I have like 3 kinds with me.
Girl B: Awesome, can I have one?
Girl A: Sure
Girl B: Awesome. I love pills. I borrow perspcriptions from my friends like all the time!
Girl A: Girl, you're a mess.
<giggle, giggle, pick up needle>

Luckily, they managed to put holes in my kid before taking said pills. It hurt for a second,but by then it was over. I immediately steered her toward the frozen yogurt stand and all the pain was forgotten. We then rented a movie, popped up a bowl of popcorn and settled in for the night.

Before

Ta-da!

The next morning, she woke me up a little after 7 and we got ready for a girly birthday party. An awesome tea party and a trip to see Alice in Wonderland at the children's theatre. We even got to meet Alice afterwards:

Big A and the birthday girl

Today we rounded out our girls weekend with a long-awaited outlet shopping trip with our good friends K and K. The girls got to choose their own summer clothes. Although I didn't get to shop for myself (boo hoo!), it was a blast. A choice conversation when we went into a shoe store.

Big A: (holds up flats covered in sparkles) How about these Mommy?
Me: No, I don't think so.
Big A: Are they too sassy for you?
Me: (trying not to laugh) Yes, I think so.

By the end of the day, as our friend Little K asked if we could be done shopping, Big A said "No, we have a LOT of stores left to get to." My heart sank...Big A has inherited my shopping addiction. My credit card is already screaming in agony for the future.

Its so much fun now that Big A is almost 5. Hanging out with her is like spending time with a girlfriend. A girlfriend who likes Barbie movies, Goldfish and goes to bed at 7:30. We're getting there.

thirty five

On the eve of my 35th birthday, I take stock of where I am in life. For the most part, I'm content and where I want to be. There are, of course, a few areas that could use some work (cough, I'm talking to you 20 pounds, cough), but all in all, I'm grateful for a funny and loving husband, two awesome little girls and a pretty nifty new job that came through at just the right time.

My parents recently cleaned their basement and gave me a bag of childhood treasures. Among them was my senior year high school yearbook. As I read the inscriptions and even my own "senior message," I felt so far removed from that 18-year-old girl. I could just barely recall what it felt like to be a teenager about to embark on the most exciting time of my life. My future plans listed college and "becoming a famous author." At least I can say I achieved one of those goals. I'm still working on the other one. Or maybe not, since its doubtful that newsletter articles are going to make me famous.

These days, fame is about the last thing I'm seeking in life. What I really want is contentment. Don't we all? They say happiness is not getting what you want, but wanting what you have. And I do want what I have...my family, my friends, my work, my house. Yet there is always a part of me that longs for more. More money, more kids, more work, more...something. It goes back to the very title of this blog - "the other side of the fence." I'm forever peering around the corner, wondering what that elusive key to pure contentment is. I still have yet to find it.

It wasn't working full-time - that was draining and I often felt guilty and missed my kids.
It wasn't staying home full-time - I was often stressed about money and yes, I'll admit it, a little bored and restless.
It's not even the holy grail of working part-time. While it has many pros, it also has some cons...the way you can only be halfway into your career, the lessened benefits and pay, and that constant pull between work and home...some days I hardly know up from down as I rush to work, to home, to a playdate, to the kitchen and to my bed.

So I've realized that its really not about what you do (although that's part of it), but also in how you feel. When I'm feeling happy and optimistic and like things are in order, I'm happy with where I am. On the days that I feel overwhelmed and out-of-control, I'm seeking the next answer to what will make me happy.

So in this 35th year, I'm vowing to stop letting my circumstances define my happiness. We all make choices, we all have things thrown at us, and we all do the best we can to carve out a road that makes sense for our lives. It is really only in looking back that we realize how happy we were.

A woman at work stopped in to ask me about my upcoming birthday (she thought I was turning 30, bless her heart). When I made a face as I shared the real number, she waved it off, "This is the best time of your life," she said. "Enjoy it."

I will.

I know...

I know I've been a slacker blogger lately. I definitely don't plan to give up on the blog, just adjusting to a new schedule for now. Things are busy, but good. However, my new schedule doesn't leave a ton of time for blogging. I don't think I should be blogging at work and in the afternoons and early evenings, its all about the family. So that leaves after the kids' bedtime and honestly, after spending the earlier part of the day on the computer, I sometimes don't even pick it up.

I've also been reading a lot more - I've been obsessed with the Hunger Games trilogy and am eagerly reading book 2. Then there's my reality shows...falling woefully behind on those. Such is life.

The kids are still doing cute things. Today Big A said when we walked outside, "It's lovely outside today." Ha. Little A has been in a challenging stage. Although she's adorable and her vocabulary is exploding, she's  having some health issues - we're thinking she may have allergies and she's been asking to go to bed around 6 each night. Of course, once we get her in bed, she promptly gets out, saying she wants to "nuggle" (snuggle) in my bed. We put her back, rinse and repeat. The process is exhausting, and sometimes I just fall into bed when its done. I remember Big A going through a challenging stage around this age, so I'm trying to remain calm and remind myself that this too shall pass.

As for work, its going very well. I enjoy what I'm doing and get along well with my coworkers. I like going in each day, as well as leaving at 2:30! I could actually write quite a lot of funny things about work, but I'm being responsible/cautious and saving that for the lucky few I get to talk to in person on a regular basis. Let's just say that if you watched the show "Community" on TV, you'd have a good insight into my daily life on the job. :-)

In other news, next week I have a birthday that has been casting a shadow on me for the past month. I know its not "old old" but, well, yeah its starting to feel real that I'm an adult. As if my daily life didn't clue me in to this, now I have objective proof. People that are the age I feel think I'm old. If I went to a college bar, I'd be the creepy old person. Our new babysitter is 18 years younger than me. And I realized I've known my oldest friends for 20 years. Woah.

Back to the regularly scheduled programming of my night. Little A is rattling her door trying to get out. J is staring Big A's bedtime routine and she's yelling about something. And I'm debating between another chapter of my book, a reality show or an early bedtime. Ah, this is the life.

What kind of sick joke is this?

Yesterday I brought in the mail, and it felt extra-heavy. There were two glossy magazines in the pile, which usually makes my day. Then I saw what they were: Martha Stewart Living. I knew I hadn't ordered this magazine that is pretty much the antithesis of my lifestyle. But of course, I took a look. The first one was the Valentine's issue featuring a floral heart on the cover. The letter from the editor featured a calendar for the month with "to do's" on it. Things like "clean and store candles," "tie burlap string around cords," and "spring clean baseboards." I laughed.

Each article was worse than the next. How to make a proper "cleaning bucket," 16 ways to eat onions, the joys of a home greenhouse. With every word, I felt more and more inadequate. Some of the "things to do," I had never considered or even heard of. "Make glitter valentines, seal withe homemade pink wax and address." That was listed on a Saturday. A Saturday.

Today I went to get the mail and there was ANOTHER issue. Plus, an issue of Sports Illustrated addressed to my husband. When he got home, I asked him if he'd ordered it. Nope. So now we were both getting mysterious magazine subscriptions? Who could be behind this? He was happy about his mystery subscription, but I'm just pissed. I don't want Martha Stewart in my house unless she's prepared to don her recommended rubber cleaning gloves and clean my damn house herself.

So I'm throwing this out there. Whoever you are, come forward and confess. So I can give you back those trees you killed with your sick joke.

:-)

Yuck.