Solo Weekend

Last weekend, I went away by myself. It was my first time overnight by myself since September 2012, making it also my first time overnight by myself since my toddler offspring arrived on the scene. I love that sweet little LEG to pieces, but it sure was nice to get away. Now that I have a taste of the good life, I hope to do more of it. Too bad I don't get per diem when I go away.

I left Friday afternoon, intending to go meet friends in the next state over. Being the go-getter that I am, I decided to run a few errands on the way. Twelve errands were too many to be considered a few, and I didn't make it to my destination until late afternoon. Checked into the hotel, met up with a friend for a gourmet Panera dinner (any dinner you don't make yourself is fairly gourmet in my world), then met another friend for a historic ghost walk in a spooky, dark state park. It wasn't spooky. Just dark. Friend #2's five-year-old told me several times it wasn't scary. So disappointing.

Saturday morning, I ran with the local running club downtown. I enjoyed lovely fall foliage and beautiful mums, but I have no photographic proof of either. I rarely carry a camera running unless I have the stroller to put it in. Carry it myself? Ain't nobody got time for that. Then I headed back to the hotel for breakfast. Standard buffet, Panera would have been better, but this was convenient.

The pancakes were an odd shape. The syrup was rather restrictive. Everything tasted decent.

You had one job!

So if I serve pancakes for dinner, we can't use this syrup? Seems a bit discriminatory.

I met up with my friends again Saturday afternoon for a little fall foliage train ride at the local train museum. It was campy and fun. We sat on straw bales on an open-air train. Traffic even had to stop for us!

Foliage and a campy little train on a crisp fall morning. That's the stuff wild weekends away are made of.

Then we headed to a brewery for tastings, a tour, and lunch.

Sure hope they sterilize those bottles after they remove the flannel shirt and before they fill them with beer.

Saturday afternoon, I drove over to DC to visit more friends and watch the Marine Corps Marathon. We made motivational signs for our friends running the race. (This post makes it sounds like I have lots of friends. I don't. I just saw most of them last weekend.) We had no trouble thinking of catchy inspirational slogans to put on our signs.

I didn't get my ass kicked holding this sign near mile 1.

I attempted to track 13 friends during the race. Thanks to modern technology, my phone effectively tracked them all. No thanks to being human, I didn't see them all on the course. They were all of varying paces, so it was impossible to see everyone. I guess if we'd stayed in one place all day, we would have, but that would have been really boring. Watching a big race like MCM can be incredibly inspiring. For a good 12 hours or so, I was all pumped up to run another marathon. Then I remembered the training thing. Never mind. Scratch that "another marathon" thought.

In celebration of my first overnight trip away from LEG, my husband taught her a new baby trick while I was gone. Sunday afternoon, I was greeted by toddler hugs and an answer to the question "Who's mommy's girl?" My toddler spawn tilted her head sweetly, smiled, and said "Aaah ayam." You'd think we live in Georgia with a thick accent like that on "I am."

Marathons are on many people's bucket list. What's on yours?

Sweating Glitter

I changed my blog title a few days ago. I don't know why, I doubt anyone noticed, and I'm sure I'll change it again. The magical thing is that I still get the glittery, sweaty, glamorous url I've always had.

Then, just like that, after changing my blog title, I really did sweat glitter. Kind of. I met a friend a few days ago to shop for craft supplies. We're getting a head start on making Christmas wreathes, because we're go-getters like that, and because some of the supplies were on sale. And we had coupons. One of the supplies we chose has quite a bit of glitter on it. More than I anticipated when we first pulled it off the display at the craft store. LEG and my friend's toddler had lots of fun waving them around. Glittery wands. I'd gone to the gym just before meeting my friend at the craft store, so was sweaty, and she pointed out that within seconds of getting the glittery wands, I had glitter all over my face. "Hey, you're sweating glitter!" I love silly jokes. :-)

Look kinda like glittery wire whisks. 

Think they could double as kitchen tools? Wonder how glittery scrambled eggs would taste?

Now there's a nice layer of fine glitter in the back of my car, in my shopping bag, on the jacket I had on that day, and in my craft room / guest room / office / throw all the crap we don't fee like putting away in that room. 

Are you on my Christmas list? Watch out! You might find yourself with glitter. Everywhere. And that is why I rarely craft with glitter.

Fences. Everywhere.

LEG is strong willed and is a runner. I'm pretty sure her thought process goes something like this:

Oooh, shiny object over there? I'll run to get it! Oooh, a parking lot? Potential danger? Let me run into it! Oooh, a road with fast moving vehicles? Let's run over there to play human Frogger! Oooh, a stranger with a snack? I'll run to greet them and ask for their snack!

Her brain's not fully developed yet. Let's just remember that. However, as her parent, I do have an obligation to keep her safe. She's cute, I like her, and I don't look good in stripes. Our yard isn't fenced. Many playgrounds aren't fenced completely. The baby pool where we swim most often doesn't have a self closing gate. LEG has quite a bit of energy. (What toddler doesn't?) The lack of fences in the places where we spend most of our time, her boundless energy, and her lack of complete regard for safety makes for a dangerous combination.

Dog parks have fences, often double ones at the entrance / exit. It's really hard for the dogs to escape. I jokingly suggested to my friend bethanylara that I take LEG to a dog park for safe play so I can spend less time retrieving her from the woods and parking lots around playgrounds when I've been distracted by my own shiny object and lost sight of her for 0.5 seconds. What followed was a grand discussion on how playgrounds should be designed. We've clearly missed our calling in life. Enough of this diaper changing business. Let's design parks!

She and I collaborated on parts of this post. Add your ideas in the comments below. We'll get corporate sponsors to make them happen with Parks & Rec, make millions on the admission we'll charge to the playgrounds, and take full credit for your ideas along with our own. Everyone wins! Even you. You'll get to use these amazing parks.

There will lots of fences. Just not quite like this.

1. Fences. Everywhere. No chance for escape. Play areas will be fenced and separated by age / type of equipment. The gate at the main entrance will be self closing and wide enough to accommodate a double stroller. 

2 Once you enter the gate, you'll cross a lazy river via footbridge. The lazy river is kind of like a moat, only better. There aren't any alligators in our lazy river.

3. The next layer in is a track, so adults can work out while the kids play. Many gyms have fitness classes for children, so the kids can work out while their parents do. Why not make this happen outside, too?

4. Next in are the kid play areas. The big kid equipment is fenced off from the little kid area. There's a paved bike riding area and a small spray ground. Giant shade sails to break up the sun on play areas. They'll be easily removable for the winter months, when the sun will heat up the playground and extend outdoor play season.

5. Overhead misting fans that come on for about a minute every 30 minutes or so. Temperature and humidity sensitive, so they only come on in hot and humid conditions.

6. Color coded sweep zones under the swings. Color coded sweep zones around the gates between play areas, so kids know where they're more likely to get bumped.

7. In the center of the park is an elevated snack bar with pavilion. Adult friendly beverages and kid friendly snacks. Adults can take a break from the track and enjoy a latte with their friends while the kids continue playing. Kids can enjoy water and sliced fresh fruit cups or cheese cubes to fuel their playground adventures. And the occassional cracker. (Crackers are currently LEG's most requested food, and I can't imagine going a day without hearing that request at least 17 dozen times.)

8. Bathrooms will be located alongside or under the pavilion so facilities can be reached without a safari style trek (complete with energy bars and CamelBaks) across the parking lot with every member of the family in tow. Older children can even use them alone! Or, be left to continue playing while a parent takes a young one in for a diaper change, on a perpetually clean changing table.

9. Recycled rubber mulch. Much easier to get out of kids' shoes than wood mulch. 

10. Built from a blend of recycled and new materials. There's a great park made from recycled tires near our home. There's too much plastic in this world. Let's keep some of it out of the landfill by not manufacturing it to begin with. Given all our our requirements above, a park built entirely from recycled materials isn't practical, but surely could be integrated into some of it.

What did we miss?

I Lied on Instagram

Several months ago, I posted the picture below on Instagram, along with a caption about how dumping the contents of one's snack bowl on the deck results in snack time becoming foraging time. I reassured my plethora of faithful Instagram followers that everything on the surface of the deck was organic. No need to worry about the toxins LEG (that's my new super secret blogger name for my toddler offspring) could be ingesting.

I'm sufficiently freaked out about weirdos on the internet that I cropped out some of LEG's vaguely identifiable features while prepping to blog about this pic.
Any blog stalking weirdo could certainly identify her by the top of her head, right? 

I lied. The cereal pictured up there isn't organic. It isn't even name brand. It's this.                            

Not organic. Not name brand. Poisonous and cheap. 

Child Protective Services, are you reading?

Is organic better? I don't know. Mainstream thinking for the past 10ish(?) years seems to be yes. Organic is better. But there are two sides to everything, right? This article is one of the first I've read on the subject that presents both sides of the organic argument. My key take-away from it is still "I don't know, it's hard to tell, and there are two sides to everything." I've recently started buying into the idea of the dirty dozen in the produce world, and do keep my eyes open for organic produce from that list at the places I usually shop. 

The main reasons I don't solely buy organic produce are shelf life and source. There are certain fruits and vegetables my family eats year-round. Consequently, in the off-season, if I buy them organic, they're not from a local farmer's market. They're from the regular ol' grocery store where that poisonous cereal pictured above came from. So they've gone through all kinds of "bad" processes to get here. Burning fossil fuel to truck them across the country, being harvested when they're not ripe so they'll ripen on the way here, etc. And they don't even last long. I pay a premium price for them, and they go bad 10x faster than the non-organic store brand poisonous produce. Then again, there's really nothing wrong with enjoying a few fruit flies with snack, is there? Fruit flies are probably some sort of live active culture. 

I usually buy organic milk and yogurt for LEG. She consumes a massive amount of those, and I have reasons to believe those are better for her than non-organic. My reasons are based on someone I trust having extensive experience in the organic dairy industry, so obviously those reasons are skewed, but I'm sticking with them for now.

It's a balance. Budget-friendly, easily attainable, locally sourced, and healthy. A hard to balance to achieve, one I haven't achieved, and one that changes constantly. 

Emails I'd Like to Send

Yesterday, I finally sent two emails that had been sitting in my drafts folder for quite some time. One was to BOB, the manufacturer of jogging strollers, suggesting their engineers find a way to combine the swiveling front wheel of the Revolution with the hand brake of the Ironman. The other was to the director of a local race, offering some constructive suggestions for improvement. Parking marshals, people, parking marshals! A dozen 13-year olds or buckets of sand with staked signs and arrows could avoid so much frustration for so many people. In their defense, though, it was a first time event. (Don't get me started on how they called it "first annual." Like nails on a chalkboard.)

Sending those got me thinking about all the emails I've wished I've been able to send over the years but haven't because it's just not worth the hassle, is completely impractical, or I'm too lazy.

Dear Tourists,

It's a crosswalk. Please stop for pedestrians in it. It's the law.

Sincerely,

Don't Enjoy Playing Frogger

Dear Person I Used to Know,

You're big and tall. Please invest in some big and tall shirts. A view of your belly isn't good for any of us.

V/r,

A Little Nauseous

Dear Bananas,

Must you ripen so fast? You go from perfect to gross in about two hours.

Sincerely,

Not Easy Being Picky

Dear Self,

Stop hoarding pics on your phone. You can't even back up your phone any more.

Xoxo,

Too Cheap to Pay for More Cloud Storage

Dear Toddler Offspring,

I'm glad you're not sick anymore. Now please go back to sleeping through the night. You don't need cuddles or meds in the middle of the night any longer. Your fever's been gone for two days.

Love,

Too Tired to Keep Up With You Today

Dear USPS,

Oh, where to start?

Respectfully,

Looking for My Mail

How about you? What emails would you like to send, but just don't bother?

Facebook Fast

I just came off a nine day Facebook Fast. I didn't check Facebook for nine days, and checked Instagram about twice during that time. That's pretty remarkable for me, considering that most of my daily adult interaction is via social media. I spend most of my waking hours with someone whose vocabulary is about 50 words, occasionally puts her words together into two-word phrases, and has used one three-word phrase exactly once in her life ("No, no, no" doesn't count.) Yeah, she's quite the conversationalist. During my Facebook fast, a few of my friends were the victims of my fast and furious texting, and my husband was the victim of my incessant chatter when he was home and awake. Maybe even when he was asleep. He'll never know. ;-)

Why a Facebook fast? Why not? Oh, I could list a myriad of reasons why I took a Facebook fast, but let's just discuss the big ones instead.

1. Our internet at home has been ridiculously slow lately. It's been taking forever to load the pics on Facebook. I got impatient and quit trying. If at first you don't succeed, give up. (I should be a motivational speaker.)

2. I had a busy couple of days with actual face-to-face adult interaction (!), realized I hadn't checked Facebook in a couple of days, then realized I didn't miss it. So I decided to stay off the Facecrack for a while longer. While I was away, I reflected on...

3. Facebook is one-sided. Everyone is posting what they want to share about their lives. I see pictures of my friends baking muffins and finger painting with their toddlers. Their yards are perfectly manicured. Their spouses come home from work every day at five, sometimes bearing surprise flowers. Everyone is smiling. Life is good. They don't include all the details in the captions. They left out details such as: the toddlers wrecked the kitchen during the baking project and have the direction following skills of gerbils, so poured the milk into the flour container, wouldn't wash their hands before nap, resulting in finger paint on their sheets, and didn't even nap, just spent an hour shouting in their cribs while the kitchen didn't get clean because the adult in the house was too annoyed by the shouting to feel like cleaning up. And the lawn? Yeah, they have a lawn service that charges and arm and a leg to use a bunch of toxic chemicals to get that beautiful green lawn. Spouses that come home every day at 5? Hmmm. That one just baffles me. Guess there's never heavy traffic or late meetings in their spouses' lives. So when you look at the one side of Facebook that most people are posting, your own life seems pretty crappy. Sometimes it's hard to remember all those other details that aren't included in the captions and status updates. While I was fasting, one of my friends mentioned that studies have shown that Facebook can contribute to depression because it's so one-sided. I found a couple articles online backing that up. And I totally believe them. Because it makes sense to me, not because everything you read online is true. C'mon now.

4. Facebook is vain. (D'oh). I'm vain. Aren't we all? Last night, I posted a bunch of pictures of my friends, family, and myself having fun. I didn't mention the pile of laundry and car cleaning project the fun created. (see #3). But the pictures are so vain. I looked at them as I was posting... "Oooh, that's a good one of my biceps. Geez, I don't like the way my chin looks in that pic, but it's a really good one of my daughter, so I'll post it anyway." One-sided and vain go kinda hand-in-hand, don't they? And isn't this whole post kind of vain? It's as if I'm assuming you noticed I was off Facebook for nine days, and that you cared, and that you're curious why I was gone.

5. False intimacy. A friend recently used this phrase to describe Facebook. Yup, we have intimate details of each other's lives. Pics of their kids, their homes, what they had for dinner, how they feel about their jobs, and when their grandmothers died. But many of these friends we barely know in person. Coworkers: as Facebook friends, we have all these details about them, but they've never shared them around the water cooler. Sometimes it seems weird to have seen pics of your coworker's dog being put down, when they didn't even mention it at work, y'know?

6. Group griefery. (Yeah, I think I made that word up.) Someone dies. Someone has a really sick child. We all hear about it via Facebook. (See #5.) I'm not knocking Facebook as a useful way to disseminate information, or as a way for the community to rally together to support folks going through tough times. I'm knocking everyone who is "so, so, very sad for your loss even though I never met him or heard of him before yesterday, I felt so connected to him. RIP, pal! Let know what I can do to help." Ummm, maybe you could allow the loved ones to grieve in private? Thanks for your concern though. The group griefery I'm talking about is wanting to be a part of something big. Even though it's something sad, it's wanting to "belong" to that big event, the big tragic illness that took a life too soon.

But I'm back now. Back to the dark side of Facebook. I started gradually. A couple days ago, I allowed myself exactly 15 minutes on Facebook. The only useful information I gained was who bought one of the local coffee shops. I don't even know what I'm going to do with that information, now that I'm thinking about it. I don't even know if it was useful information. It was just mildly interesting information. Nine days gone, 15 minutes back, and that's it. I wonder what enjoyable conversation and company I could have enjoyed with 15 minutes of face-to-face time with a friend instead of 15 minutes on Facebook.

It's Your Worst...

It's your worst... Fill in the blank. Worst nightmare because... Living the hardest day of your life because...

Like anyone else, I know people who are having struggles with their health. I know people in the midst of horrible custody battles. I know people who are in financial trouble. And there's always a sob story in the news about someone who has it worse than anyone I know in person. 

People open up to each other, people lend a sympathetic ear to each other, and we tend to say "it would be worse if..." I think that's human nature. It's supposed to make someone feel better, and it often does. I've  spent a little extra time in doctor's offices and hospitals with my daughter because she was born with a relatively minor birth defect. In the grand scheme of life, it's been a really little, little, tiny extra time. Parents in pediatric OR waiting rooms are some of the chattiest people I've ever met. I guess it's a way of coping. Some of them talk about why they're there while hoping that the next time the door swings open, it will be their child's surgeon or nurse with an update. In my case, the other parents in the waiting room helped me put things in perspective. The cinnamon roll from the cafe downstairs sure didn't. It was one of the worst cinnamon rolls I've ever had. (Not a metaphor, btw. Too much frosting.) I knew that in all likelihood, my husband and I would be going home with a drugged, uncomfortable, but overall healthy baby in a couple days. (Spoiler alert for what could be a future post: the first 24ish hours post-surgery were rocky, then our daughter turned a corner and amazed us with her adaptability and remarkable recovery.) 

There's a phrase I've been trying to get myself to stop saying to friends and family members in certain situations over the past several years. "At least you don't..." It's a hard habit to break, and I still say it quite a bit. But it doesn't always help. Lame example with no bearing on real life... Let's pretend I have a friend whose current worst struggle is having a hard time getting her teenager to unload the dishwasher. I could say, "At least you have a dishwasher." No kidding. Dishwashers are amazing. But it would prob be more sympathetic to say, "yup, that sucks. Get that kid to unload that dishwasher. Here's a tissue to dry your tears when you have a meltdown of your own because the dishwasher still isn't loaded tomorrow. Do you want a dog biscuit? I can give you that, too. After the kid loads the dishwasher, reward him with a dog biscuit. Sage advice."

Bringing myself back to "your worst." Regarding whoever is opening up to me at any particular time about the worst thing they have going on, I try to remember that's it's their worst. When we were in the hospital for my daughter's surgery, and I saw a friend mention online that his child had the flu and his wife was out of town, I thought to myself, "Huh. You know what really sucks? My child just had a hard time coming out of anesthesia, spit liquid narcotics on me, and has no way to tell me where it hurts and how badly it hurts. The surgeon told me that my baby has 'too many stitches to count' in her mouth. Oh, and I've been awake for about 36 hours now. My husband is holding her while I change out of my narcotic stained shirt and waste a little time on Facebook." Nah. I scrolled past. I didn't bother thinking of the friend who was going through something even worse than the whole baby surgery thing. Just scrolled, because now and then, I'm mature like that. My friend's current worst day was pretty bad to him at that moment of venting online. He had a sick kid, another one to get to school, and no adult at home to help with the morning routine while he tried to get things in order, call in sick to work, etc.

I'm smart enough to know that right now, your worst possible nightmare would be me ending this post without a picture. So here's the flip flop pic I mentioned yesterday. They're sweaty. I'd sprinkle glitter on them for you, but then I'd have to clean it up, and glitter is a pain to clean up.

Want a question to talk about in the comments? Hmmmm. Either talk about your worst, or don't. Tell me about glitter. Tell me about sweat. I don't care. Or read and don't comment. Shocking news: you not commenting isn't really my worst nightmare right now. :-)

My Google Identity Crisis

No, it's not some weird internet troll story, and it's not about the time hackers repeatedly got into one of my most often used email accounts. It's even more boring than either of those things, which are pretty boring on their own. Although the email one is mildly amusing, in retrospect, so maybe I'll blog about it one day. I could blog about nothing substantive forever! Magical!

Since deciding to give blogging a try a few days ago, I've used three different Google profile names. No, this isn't part of my super-secret effort, I'm just wishy-washy about my silly username.

The first Google id I blogged from sounded a little funny (to me), so I chose it, and was based on my slightly funny (to me) blog name. The second one was also based on my blog name, and I accidentally forced myself into changing my profile name because I wanted to change which email address I was blogging from. My third, and current, Google profile id name is my first name, because several times over the past few days, I thought to myself  "I'll change my profile name to my first name when I'm more comfortable with blogging." When I commented on a friend's blog, yesterday, it was odd to feel like I was hiding my real first name on that blog, when I used to comment on her blog with my first name, but no Google account. And I most definitely wasn't talking about sweat or glitter when I commented on her blog. So I changed it again. I'll probably change it at least a dozen more times before I quit blogging. Add that to the list of things you don't care about.

A lot of this is really because I had several old email accounts, two of which I'd pretty much forgotten about, and now I'm in the process of getting all my random email accounts cleaned up and into something more usable. I found a 2010 invitation from a friend to join a site called Fitocracy in one of the accounts. Oops.

I'm not currently sweating. You also didn't care about that. No glitter going on in my world right now either. There were two cute stock pics in this post, but I'm having a hard time getting the photo credit links to work, so I'm giving up for now, finally releasing this incredibly fascinating post from the draft folder, and am about to go live with it.

I've noticed that several of the blogs I enjoy reading end the post with a question, and I think it's a pretty good way to get online conversation going, so here's one to end this post with. No shiny pennies, or other prizes, if you answer or don't. 

How do you decide on usernames, user ids, Google profile pics, and all that stuff? 

Mother's Day Monday

I'm fairly certain no one really celebrates the day after Mother's Day. But I'm up early (no surprise there, more on that in a future post), and had half drafted this blog post in my mind yesterday, so am here to ramble. You're welcome.

Let's back up to last Wednesday night. My daughter is long past the age of being able to sleep through the night, yet chooses not to on occasion for various reasons: teething, being overtired and unable to go back to sleep without a song and snuggles, the situation in Ukraine on her mind, etc. Her night waking is less than once per month now, so it's not really a big deal. Also, she's a really good kid. Despite currently testing her limits as a toddler, she's easygoing, happy, and fun, so I honestly don't complain about her often. Sappiness alert: every day, I remind myself of how wonderful it is to have her in my life. Anyway, last Wednesday was one of her flashback nights. She did a flashback to being a newborn. Up three times, standing up in her crib, bawling, and clearly needed 17 verses of the same kiddie song sung to her while I held her in the rocking chair in her room. So we did that. Three different times.

On Friday afternoon, a box from Proflowers arrived on our doorstep. It was also my dad's birthday, and we were hosting a little family get-together for that, so I assumed they were for him. Really, what 73 year-old man doesn't want flowers for his birthday? Nope. It was my lucky day.

For me? You shouldn't have! Actually, you should have. Toddler offspring, you're much more awesome today than you were overnight. I'll sloppily blur your name out here so the online creepers are less likely to kidnap you. 

The flowers made a lovely addition to the coffee table, side table, and dinner table. My husband rightfully assumed they'd be a welcome addition to our home during the birthday shinding, so had them delivered a couple days before Mother's Day. We moved them around throughout the weekend. I'm currently looking at them on the coffee table, out of the corner of my eye. They're still beautiful. 

And this. Why take a pic of a full box of chocolates when you can eat a few right away? Delish.

Yeah, I could have picstitched these three together. Or placed them in view for one photograph. But I didn't bother. Eh. Maybe blogging isn't for me, we shall see.

That was Friday. Saturday evening we went to church, to free up our Sunday morning for my Mother's Day plans. I'm sure you were dying to know when I went to mass over the weekend. We almost didn't. We walked in to church to see we were going to have two baptisms, a first communion, and the full choir. With our active toddler? We braced ourselves and persevered through the 75 minute mass. Not that I was looking at my watch. Nope, never in church. Not me.

Yesterday, on the actual Mother's Day, I got to go running sans stroller (always a real treat) with a group of friends. We usually run, then go about our merry ways for the rest of the day, but being Mother's Day, we treated ourselves to this. Yeah, someone's name is pictured, but that's after we joked about picturing names and linking blogs, and since I'm not saying anything with much meaning aside from "Kara had iced tea yesterday," I'll abstain from linking her. For now. I'll think of a decent reason to link some of the blogs I follow eventually, once I'm more into the whole blogging thing.

The green one must be healthy. Pretty much like drinking a multivitamin.
(Truth: I ordered a green one, after my friend did, because it sounded so good, and couldn't decide which coffee drink I wanted. It's just easier to be a follower than make your own decision sometimes. And, yesterday, totally worth being a follower for a green drink.)

Then, my morning o' fun continued, and I ventured to Target and Lowe's sans toddler. A dream come true. I was overflowing with glee to be buying diapers and light bulbs without my 22 lb sidekick. Side note: she loves to shop. I could take or leave it. Since she loves it, we do run a lot of errands together. It's easy entertainment and keeps me from having to tell her "no" to opening the snack cabinet for the 17th time in an hour. As I mentioned above, she's testing her toddler limits.

I don't recommend waiting until Mother's Day to buy a hanging planter basket for your mom. They all had similar brown accents to go with the green foliage and colorful flowers. Fortunately I was buying really exciting stuff like light bulbs and peat moss, and just stopped to look at the flowers on the way out.

My day continued in a fairly ordinary fashion, so I'll start bringing this ramble to a close. As I suspect will be the case for quite a while, many of my posts will end up longer than I planned them to be. Eh, why ponder on a good way to shorten when you can post and be done? No one's forcing anyone to read my ramblings.

On celebrating Mother's Day: my family didn't really celebrate the Hallmark holidays much when I was growing up. Consequently, the celebrations aren't important to me, and I often forget about them, but I happened to marry someone whose family is much more "celebratory" on those kinds of things. Lucky me: I get to enjoy flowers, chocolates, and a card. My husband, though, better send me a meeting maker to remind me Father's Day is coming up if he wants the baby and me to remember. Honestly, I'm most looking forward to getting the cards and macaroni necklaces she makes herself in a few years. I'm a silly sap like that.

How does your family typically celebrate (or barely mention) Hallmark holidays?

Final end note for this post: If you read this whole post, you deserve a prize. I don't have any, so go find a shiny penny or something for yourself and call it your prize.

Muddy Waters

Despite once holding a job doing IT 'stuff' many years ago, I've fallen out of practice of the ways of the IT savvy, and have been slightly slow to embrace some new technology. I've never looked at MySpace or Tumblr, didn't try Facebook until 2009, and just got into Instagram in 2013. I didn't get a smartphone until 2013.

And now, I'm finally dipping my toes into the muddy waters of blogging. Why? Well, if you're friends with me on Facebook, you know I frequently ramble and blog on there. If you follow me on Instagram, you're wondering what I could possibly contribute to a blog aside from barely recognizable pictures of random road signs, and another, yes, another picture of some craft project or delicious (delicious looking, anyway) food I've made.

I've decided to dip my toes into the muddy waters of blogging anyway. Muddy because I still have a little bit of internet stranger danger after a few weird incidents a few years ago. Muddy because it's going to take me a while to figure out all the settings and not get the eeby jeebies every time I think about posting a picture. Muddy because... have I mentioned I ramble a lot sometimes?

About my blog title: Facebook friends, Instagram followers and IRL friends all know I'm not glam. At all. But I do like glitter, because I like craft projects. I also like sweating, because I like exercising. So let's just pretend I'm glam, because the thought of me being glam is amusing, and I'm easily amused.

Yeah, I know pictures help a blog. So for now, I'll leave you with a picture I took a few years ago on a cloudy day in our nation's capital. There's some mud in that water. That's not a metaphor for the state of our nation, or anything else, it's just a statement. The Tidal Basin has mud. Maybe also some glitter. Who knows? Not me. Just as I don't really know in what direction this blog will go.