Kitty and Kitten Sanchez

Hiatus.

it’s been nearly a month since I updated.  And the thing with me and blogs is, the longer I go without updating, the harder it is for me to jump back into the swing of things.  The same goes for working out, flossing, reading, or any other beneficial/productive activity I might aspire to add to my routine.  But I refuse- for now- to let this thing die so, here we go.  What’s been going on since the jump?

Adventures in Babysitting.

I have spent many afternoons in the past weeks experiencing what it might be like to be blessed with twins.  A.’s work schedule combined with her mom’s availability have dictated that I be pulled in as a babysitter.  Which sucks for A&W because while they can guiltlessly pawn Riley off on their mothers without paying them for the favor, they can’t bring themselves to NOT thrust a wad of bills in my hand when they come to pick their daughter up from an afternoon with me.  I’ve tried to tell them it’s not necessary, but to no avail.  Persistence only creates an awkward situation . . . 

It can be trying keeping up with two toddlers for hours on end- especially because I don’t know how to get Riley to nap and the Tink won’t nap with a playmate in the house.  The upside is that with a friend to play with, I don’t have to fick on the Noggin’ channel quite as often to gain a few moments reprieve to work or just breath.  This is good for my guilt about too much TV and add and is also good for my sanity because knowing all the words to those Yo Gabba Gabba songs is just wrong.

In short: babysitting Riley equals MORE work, but also MORE play!  Which is good for the Tink so yay.  (The wad o’ bills don’t hurt none neither, I assure you.)

Thanksfornothing.

The good ol’ Arkansas family blowout is quickly becoming semi-annual tradition amongst our kinfolk.  I have learned that I must NEVER stay past three nights with my maternal grandparents or regrettable things WILL be said.  Case in point:

We went to my grandparent’s house for Thanksgiving a few weeks ago.  As “luck” would have it, my family in that neck of the woods had also scheduled a big family reunion.  This entails sitting around my grandfather’s tool shop with about twenty people (out of whom I can confidently name eight) eating nonstop and, sadly, drinking not at all.  What this meant was Mom and I arrived Wednesday evening, and left Sunday morning.  4 nights.  Not good.

Sunday morning eating breakfast before packing up, I sat at the kitchen table not yet humanized by my very necessary caffeine.  My grandfather overheard me launch a bitchy quip in my mother’s direction, and went off on me.  I got defensive.  Then my grandmother got defensive of her man.  And all hell broke loose.  

My grandfather and I made amends before Mom and I got on the road, but I’m still left with a problem.  Mom is returning for a Christmas visit in a few weeks.  I know my grandparents probably want me to come, or at lease want me to come and bring the Tink.  But I’m not sure if a) I’ve gotten over myself or b) I want to risk another scene.  Tricky.  Very tricky.

HOTlanta

Had a rare phone conversation with K. last night which was very fun.  She was a little wasted and I decided to cut loose and have A beer.  She has very recently shacked up with her long time man, and they are now settled in a new townhouse.  K. wants me and the Tink to come visit early next year, so hopefully some solid plans will materialize in the next month or so.  I’m a little nervous about a semi-cross country plain ride all alone with the Tink right as she’s closing in on Terrible Two, but you gotta do what you gotta do.

Cease and Desist

Recently I’ve been really ready to say goodbye to the whole breastfeeding gig.  I’m ready to have my body no longer considered public property in the house; I’m definitely tired of my nipples being virtual pacifiers when trying to soothe the Tink to sleep at night.  I just can’t muster the strength and resolve to stick to any kind of boob-restricting/denying plan that will ultimately end in tears.  I just wish she would eventually get over it and stop nursing without assistance, but that doesn’t seem to be happening.  So I’m at an impasse: put up with the increasingly overwhelming toddler-nursing, or set limits and bring on the tears.  

Conclusion

And thus concludes this update.  I ripped off the bandaid and updated the blog.  It didn’t hurt so bad.  I’ll leave with some pictures of from the break . . . 

My big girl plays at the park now:

Thanksgiving was cooooooold:

A day in the life with two toddlers:

My cat Phoebe finally moved in with us; she and Isabella are negotiating their relationship carefully:

The Tink got new kicks and as been transformed into the world’s tiniest hipster:

And . . . I’m out! Peace!