lately

1 Jake got his big bed.  Finally.  His giant bed.  We ordered a mattress and boxspring and the one in the store was normal height.  The one we got was huge.  The delivery guy said that the company shows them with a low profile boxspring that's six inches lower than the one they come with.  Jake's head is about 4 inches higher than his bed.  He needs a stepstool to get up there.  He loves it.  I envision him dive bombing off the thing and breaking his neck.  He's an edge sleeper but he hasn't fallen out of bed in years, probably since the first or second night that he was put in a toddler bed a few months before he turned two.

I'm not sentimental about baby stuff, but when I heard the sides and springs of his crib/toddler bed crushing in the garbage truck last Wednesday?  My heart crunched right along with it.

2  Along the same lines, Jake asked me how I knew he wasn't a baby anymore.  I said because I don't change diapers, wash tiny clothes, scrub bottles and sippy cups and shatterproof bowls, mix baby oats, mash foods, pick up toys, or worry about him putting stuff in his mouth anymore.  He said "yeah, that stuff too, but I was just thinking how I don't drink your milk anymore.  Man do I miss having boobs in my mouth all the time".

If you don't see Jake until he's thirty, it's only because I'm protecting your daughters.

3  We don't talk like in our house, I swear.

4  I just bought a case of Scott toilet paper and put it in the linen closet next to the few rolls I had left over from the last case.  Two new rolls stacked up are about a half inch shorter than two old rolls.  Scott took it upon himself to shave a quarter inch off each roll of toilet paper.  And raise the price 25 cents on a case of 36.  I like it because it's more Green than before, but I hate it because that means I have less green than before.  I'll be spending a dollar more on toilet paper each year.  It adds up, it's not just tp we are paying more for less.

5  You may or may not know, but I've lost about half of my hair since this past spring.  On my head, my moustaches are all just as thick as ever.  Good news is, the dermatologist told me that most of it should come back.  Bad news is it really did a number on my self esteem.  Used to be when someone looked at me on the street I was happy because my adorable face was brightening someone's day.  Now I want to find a crack to seep into because I'm sure they are staring at my scalp in horror. 
Why did I lose my hair?  Who knows.
Probably to teach me a lesson.
Or something.
Actually, probably as a result of a medication or allergy or some sort of trauma that my body went through that didn't make it to my brain so I had no idea what was going on until I started looking like Daddy Warbucks.

Truth is you probably wouldn't really notice that I am half bald.  You'd just think that what I was doing with my hair isn't really working for me.

Or maybe you wouldn't notice that I had bad hair because my skin has been acting completely rebellious and teenaged.  Pimples everywhere.

Luckily I have the best son in the world who says that pimples are beautiful, like "a crown of rubies resting on (my) forehead".

The dermatologist recommended a 5% benzoyl peroxide wash.  So naturally I bought the 10%.  PanOxyl it's called.  Miracle product I call it.  You can find it on the bottom shelf at the drugstore, next to the stuff that looks like it's been there since your grandma was your age.  Three days of using it and my skin is just about clear.
Who knew?

6  Speaking of grandma, it was pretty touch and go with mine for a few days.  But then she came back to life.  Like she always does.  If they could bottle her moxie I'd never have to worry about paying a bill for the rest of my days.

I didn't go see her last time I was home.  I was busy with the wedding and stuff, but truth is I just couldn't do it.  I know I'll regret it for the next 60 years and then burn in hell. 
I think since she pulled through that last death scare, I'll send her a little care package.  And maybe head up there for Thanksgiving again.  When I saw her last Thanksgiving, I sort of figured that would be the last time I saw her and I made peace with that and it was really hard to do.  After the summer that I had, I just didn't have it in me to do that again.

Why, I don't know.  She's been dying on and off again for 10 years.  I've done it countless times before.

I was tired.

But things are getting better.

7  Work.  Work work work work working working working.  Bad things are happening out there.  I hope it was just the weather and everyone goes back inside and leaves each other alone for a few months.

8  Soccer. 

9  Improv.

10  Halloween!  My decorations are up.  Jake wants to be a vampire.  I can't believe the vampire craze has filtered down to the Pre-K set.  I don't even know how he knows what a vampire is.

I dont' even know how he knows most of the stuff he knows.  (see #2)

I'm thinking about going as a witch. I've never been a witch before because I never felt old enough to be a witch.  Moms are witches.  Not kids like me.  Also, once you go witch, you never go back.  You just keep pulling that old hat out of the box every year until they put you in a home.  It's a fact.  I've seen it happen countless times before.

My favorite Halloween candy is Reese cups and Clark Bars.  What's yours?

***

Special thanks to Magaly and Katie Gates who have each given me a blog award.

Katie is writing a novel and shares bits of it on her blog every week.  Her writing has inspired me to get a move on a book of my own.  Whether I ever share it here or look to have it published, I don't know but I have been getting a little something down on paper.  It's hard.  I'm always putting pieces of myself in there and deleting them because I don't want anyone to know that it is a piece of myself.  Then I make some stuff up and delete that because I don't want anyone thinking that it is a piece of myself.  I feel like I'm giving away too much of me.  I feel slutty.  Even though there isn't any sexy stuff in there.  So maybe slutty is a bad choice.  I feel something.

If I ever write anything I publish, I want Katie to write my flap text.  On her blog she wrote this about me:
“Fever” is the appropriate title of Lora’s blog. And that word makes me think of Peggy Lee’s sensuous sounds. And jazz. That’s the type of writing you’ll find on this site. Lora’s narrative style is often reminiscent of musical riffing, and it can go deep. “Fever” posts can make you feel as if you’re in a cyberspace speakeasy. Rhythms, candor, and sometimes a wicked sense of humor take center stage when this resident of Philadelphia hits the keyboard.

Isn't that the nicest thing you've ever read about me in your whole entire life?



Magaly is also a real live writer, a real live student, a real live Pagan, a real live witch, a real live Marine, and a real live sweetheart.  If you don't know her blog, you should definitely check it out.  Ever hear that saying "never a dull moment"?  Magaly's mom surely made it up.  This girl is a wicked handful of amazing.