It's time.

It's time for change. Change is inevitable.

I'm taking yet another break... I know, it sucks you don't get to read something new, but I'm taking the day off to go spend time with my 7-year-old buddy. Here's a blast from the past, December, 2007 to be exact.

Yes, I wrote 'bosom'.

Basketball tournament season is here. There's all the yapping about KU, MU, K-State etc. etc. etc.

(We are Texas Longhorns fans, btw)

I've always embraced, loved and enjoyed my curves. My husband is always telling me how he loves my body. 

I've never been and never will be one of those "dieters." I don't believe in diets. I will never calorie count or turn away from chocolate, fried fish or vodka. 

I'm not able to blog today, and well... actually, I wanted a little break. Here's an oldie from the archives (2008). Update though, we can now work from home! Which makes life easier. So I suppose this blog really isn't valid anymore. But seriously, how much work can you get done with a 7 year old "momming" you all day?

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Lent is here. Again.

You know what that means for the Catholics.

Birthday time. 

My little guy is turning 7. The big s-e-v-e-n. 

According to Urban Dictionary and my almost 7-year-old son, "swasome" means: sweet and awesome mixed together.

It's news to me, I've never heard the term before. Apparently, I'm not the only clueless one, I asked my coworker who's "hip" and she had never heard it before either. She was going to start using it though.

It was announced on Facebook (and later the news) that my old stomping grounds, St. Mary's High School, was finally closing. 

My heart was heavy. Even though it was my birthday yesterday, I felt a little stormy-blue. 

A week or so ago the media was (and still is a little bit) full of flu headlines. 

"Flu kills thousands"

If you think about it, there's all different types of hugs.

Weird topic, eh? 

A whole lot of nothing. 

My nearly two week vacation from the egg carton ended yesterday.

*Hope everyone had an irie Christmas. I'm off this week, so I'm bringing back an old-school blog from January, 2009. After I scanned over this one, it appears that I'm still having the same troubles as I did nearly four years ago! Although I am spending more time at home, thankfully. See ya'll in 2013. Be safe.*

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My first experience at a drag queen show was in my early twenties at a place called "Missy B's." 

I was never one to judge others based on their sexuality, skin color, culture or what have you. I was open to the idea when my friend asked if I wanted to go.

Remember when you used to be able to spell something out without your kid knowing what you were talking about?

"Luke, do you want to go to the p-a-r-k today?"

It's no surprise that the cooks in our house are the boys.

I'm not into cooking, but I am into eating. Lately, my husband has conjured up some really magnificent meals.

First order of business: Happy birthday to my beloved sister. She woulda been 36, I think.

I will have a tasty adult drink in her honor when I get home from work. How's heaven treatin' ya, sister?

The facebook trend during Thanksgiving season was to post something you were thankful for once a day.

Of course most people were thankful for family, friends and kids. After a while, I kinda got tired of reading all the "thankful posts," but I scanned through them.

They're all gonna start coming. 

You know...

Oh, what fun it is to ride in a one horse open sleigh.

HEY!

I must have an explosion phobia. I'm not sure where it came from.

I've never been involved in any type of explosion. Sure, I've seen them happen mostly in movies and at times on the news.

I wouldn't say that I was the most anxious kid in school, I learned how to control my nerves, eventually. But I was and currently am one to get butterflies and sweaty palms in certain situations, mostly confrontational stuff.

Bo studied for his first ever spelling test this week. When asked about how he thought he did he replied with "I rocked it out."

It seems like when fall rolls around I schedule myself for a handful of concerts. 

I find myself opening up the baker's rack drawer and looking inside white envelopes. The lineup for this fall: Stephen Marley, Eric Church and Norah Jones.

** NOTE: Tasha has the day off, so we're running one from the archives. Enjoy! **    

When I got home from work Monday evening, I opened the door to the basement to let the dogs outside.

Normally Shelby would come flying out, race to the back door and roll around in the grass like it was a fuzzy cashmere blanket.

My husband and I are both good at math.

When I was in Computer Science school at UMKC I rocked out discrete mathematics, calculus, statistics, proofs, programming, computer arch etc. etc. 

It's birthday parties galore when you have a 6 year old.

There are the kids in his class, the kids on his baseball team, there are cousins and even second cousins.

I'm not sure what it is. Maybe I've been listening to so much Bob Marley that even my driving has become laid back.

I've never really been an aggressive driver, even when I had my Camaro. Every car I've ever owned (all two of them) has had a V-8 engine.

Every once in a while our son wakes up at 2 a.m. and crawls into our bed. He puts the blankets over his head and gets as close as he can to me, putting his hand on my back or arm to assure himself that I will be there while he once again drifts off into dreamland.

Once it's wake up time I gently run my hands over his head and through his hair and ask him: "Did you have a bad dream last night?"

Editor's note: Tasha is off this week, so we've pulled a goodie out of the archives from a couple years ago. Field trip, anyone? Enjoy!

Homeschoolers aren't the only ones getting out of the classroom.

When I was a kid I had never met anyone famous. Unless you count Donald Duck at Disney World.

Back in the day it would have been sweet to have met Jackie Joyner Kersee, Joey from New Kids on the Block, Michael J Fox or even River Phoenix.

Yep. We live in the suburbs.

But that doesn't mean we can't experience the "urban life."

I stumbled upon an article on CNN.com with the headline: "Are you too tired for sex?"

Intrigued, I clicked on it and read through it.

Yeah, I kinda like watching the Olympics.

My nightly routine has changed a bit since the games started.

Yeah, I'm one of those moms who doesn't want her son to play football.

It doesn't matter anyways, he doesn't want to play.

You might have noticed that I didn't blog last week, or maybe you didn't.

Whatever.

Luke and I are blessed that we have awesome parents who are still young and healthy.

This means our son has four grandparents who spoil him and love him unconditionally.

I've experienced a lot of things in my 31 years. Until last weekend, I can't say I've ever been to a piano recital.

Bo's piano teacher sent a mass email a few weeks back to the parents with information on this year's summer recital.

It's fascinating watching my son grow physically, (built like me) emotionally, (a little like the both of us) mentally (pretty damn smart) and spiritually (puts energy into understanding Christianity).

The older Bo gets, the more I learn about his personality.

A few weeks ago I was flipping through channels late at night and stopped on Animal Planet.

"Mermaids, The Body Found" was airing. Highly intrigued, my eyes never left the TV screen and the remote went from being in my hand to tossed on the nightstand.

I've managed to stay away from cubicles the entire time I've been in the corporate world.

Until now.

I spent too much time in college writing papers with an intro, body and conclusion. I was first a computer science major, computer geeks don't really like to write, unless it's code. Then I became a fine art student, and well, they don't really like to write either.

Every week I try to think of some sort of "theme" for my blog as if I'm writing a paper. Well, screw it.

Last night my nephew Dylan graduated from 8th grade.

There was a full Mass said by the same priest who married Luke and I (who happens to be my best friend's brother) and celebration to follow.

Last week I blogged about our decision to proceed in life with only one child.

The next step is getting rid of all the stored baby stuff.

I made sure to ask my husband if it was OK to write a blog about our decision to go through with a vasectomy. He told me "Sure."

It's part of our life. We aren't the first ones to go through this.

I haven't always been a Bob Marley fan, but these past few years I've fallen in love with his music.

The words in all his songs bring me to my happy place. The sound of reggae helps to soothe me while I'm surrounded by the sterile "hospital white" walls at my 9-5.

Another good thing about being a full-time working mom is that the time that I do have with Bo feels special and not taken for granted.

If I hung out with my son all day, I don't think I'd be able to enjoy our time together as much. Honestly, we'd get sick of each other.

Editor's note: Ahhh, s*%^! Tasha's off this week, so we went into the m2m vault and found this gem from the Tasha archives of 2008. Enjoy!

 I've got a problem and I'm admitting it.

It's no secret that I'm an ocean- conch-loving Key West freak.

I love jumbo coconut shrimp, fried fish sammies, conch fritters, a little bit of lobster and sometimes some catfish.

After nearly 13 years, I'm stepping back into the shot put ring for my first gig coaching fourth through eighth graders how to properly throw a shot put without throwing their arms out of socket.

I started throwing the shot around third grade. It was never one of my goals or dreams, but one day after watching my sister make unsuccessful attempts at putting a 6 pound metal ball, I picked the thing up and shocked my dad by tossing it out there like a pro.

My iced coffee addiction has led to a new addition on the kitchen counter.

A Keurig machine.

I got an email a few weeks ago about the kindergarten play, "Go Fish."

A few sentences into the message I read: "The 2nd grade boys are going to be sharks, so I would like the kindergarten students to be creative and find all different kinds of fish to be instead of sharks.  I am not saying they cannot be a shark but highly encourage otherwise. Be as simple or as elaborate as you want to be when making your costume."

For some reason my sleep patterns are all out of whack.

I've been sleeping light and waking at random hours of the night.

My son received a collection of bills for his birthday last month; fives, tens, a few twenties and a bunch of ones.

I think he had a total of something like $75 tucked away in his Spiderman wallet.

On Monday, my best friend Jill gave birth to a baby boy, Carson Stone Kelley. He weighed 8 lb. 4 oz., the same size Bo was when he was born.

As I walked into the hospital room, tears welled up in my eyes. Carson was resting on his mother's chest and the sight of the two made me all sappy.

My friends call me spoiled when it comes to my husband.

I remind them that I'm lucky. (Just so you know, he's lucky too)

I like to party. But I'm more of a laid-back, small party kind of chica.

I like the typical three- or four-person party, where a bottle of alcohol is shared, the conversation is funny and the environment is cozy.

Well, I kinda did.

It's been a long LONG time since I've bought new clothes for myself.

It was 9:30 p.m. or so on Saturday and I was putting some makeup on and getting "fancy."

It was time to get out the black glittery eye shadow.

I finally got inked!

Last weekend my husband and I took a few days off for some much needed "mom & dad" time. (Grandma Theresa watched Bo.)

 **Editor's Note: While Tasha takes a week off from blogging, we're running a blog from the archives. This one originally ran a year ago, in January 2011.** 

I thought I got rid of my pink eye last summer, but apparently my beautiful sensitive eyes are prone to bacteria-infested crap.

Back in September (I think) when I first got pink eye, I found some expired eye drops in the medicine cabinet that would make my eye ball white again. You really shouldn't use expired meds because each time I thought I got rid of it, the infection would come back days later.

Let's see, let's see ... what happened in 2011?

Well, Bin Laden is dead, some rich kids over in Great Britain got married, Charlie Sheen made an ass of himself with his tiger blood, the Kardashians continued to make bank for no reason at all, Kansas City got a new Performing Arts Center, there was a huge earthquake in Japan and Joplin was hit by a devastating tornado ... those are not in order, btw.

Luke and I have sold about 3 or 4 items on Craigslist with good luck.

A dog run, a pile of bricks and an outdoor playhouse.

What do these things have in common?

Nothing. I think ...

My son is a Lego boy. Not a train boy, not a dinosaur boy... a Lego boy.

Sure, he plays with his action figures, Wii and his Nintendo DS, but he spends most of his time with Legos. 

I've been on social media for a while now. I don't know, maybe five years or more.

I started back in the Myspace days when you could have music on your page, people could spam your "wall" with ads and you could change your mood from "amorous" to "vexed."

I received Bo's kindergarten report card a few weeks ago and was delighted to read that he, "has a silly sense of humor which makes him well-liked by his peers."

I was proud of my boy.

Don't laugh or roll your eyes, but 30 is putting a damper on my body. For most people, turning 30 wasn't a big deal, but for me it suuuucks.

A volleyball teammate of mine told me on Monday: "Yep, 30 is when it all starts to go downhill."

There's a big change in our house. Well, depending on how you look at it, it's kind of big.

We ditched our cable TV.

I was trying to figure out what I wanted to blog about the other day while I was on the phone with my mom.

"So, what are you doing?"

Baby Lisa went missing a while ago.

After the media found out about it they were like sharks on a bloody steak. 

I'm convinced that somehow my husband and I have managed to pi$$ off God this month.

October has been quite the financial "adventure." It's depressing, actually. 

The older I get, the more "advanced" or "mature" my alcohol palette gets. Well, sort of. 

I'm trying, OK? 

**Editor's Note: While Tasha is away this week, we're running a blog from the archives of Tasha's Greatest Hits. This one originally ran in February 2008. Enjoy!**  

Last night after I picked up my son from daycare we went home and ate dinner then checked out his goody bag from his Valentine party.

When exactly do I do my "mom chores?" You know, laundry, grocery shopping, cleaning, dusting, balancing the checkbook, looking at school calendars, folding laundry, etc. etc.

Midnight.

I knew that my son would eventually start reading. I just didn't know exactly when.

Last year, when he was 4, there were kids his age already reading short chapter books. One even read Bible verses over the intercom at school. 

We are trying new things at our house. Our family is branching out into the "unknown."

Karate was a bust. My son hated it. He never wants to go back. So there went that.

I've written about this before, but thought that I'd reflect on it again for the 10 year anniversary.

Ten years ago on Sept. 11, 2001, I was a 20-year-old college kid, unmarried, carefree and childless. Bo Luke was just a distant future.

**Editor's Note: While Tasha is away this week, we're running an oldie but goodie blog from the archives of Tasha's Greatest Hits. This one originally ran in August of 2008. Enjoy!**

Raise your hand if you absolutely refuse to drive a minivan. (I'm raising mine...)

Yeah, yeah ... I know. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. It's the fuel for your kids, it's the only way their brains will get energy to function at school.

No one has to lecture me.

(... and it's not even Father's Day) 

My husband is not just some construction worker, he's a union plumber who has built things for this city that are amazing parts of history.

I might be one of the few people who still use a baby monitor for their 5-year-old, or as I like to call it a "kid intercom."

Thanks to Luke's aunt, Rita, it's one of the only baby shower gifts still in use besides the Donald Duck blanket from my grandma.

Kindergarten starts in a week.

I'm not sad about it. OK, maybe a little.

OK, so I didn't get my identity stolen, I still have my check card and my car is still in the driveway.

But when I got into my car the morning of July 25 I noticed that my middle console was wide open. That was odd.

What do I consider an "official family vacation?"

Well, simply a vacation with just me, my husband and my son.

Summer is going well.

My son is adapting to his new temporary summer classroom. I must say I've been pleasantly surprised with all the activities the program has planned. (The McDonald's one was kinda... different... but...)

So, I've got a few things floating around in my brain that I want to ramble on about.

Anyone ever heard of planking? You may have read a column about it by Jeneè Osterheldt in Sunday's KC Star. In case you haven't, go check it out here. And if you don't subscribe to the paper, you should.

I'm sitting here, at 11 p.m. on this fine Thursday evening, gearing up to write about... to write about ... landscaping! Heh.

Forgive me if my words slur a bit. I had the most wonderful "love potion" drink from The Brick. Don't know what it is? Get downtown and try one. It's homemade and magical.  

I've been noticing changes in Bo Luke lately.

Changes that are making life a bit easier these days.

My son came home a few days ago singing "The Fast Food Song" by a band called Fast Food Rockers. Yes. That's right. (Watch out, Mr. Stinky Feet.)

Bo had learned the song at summer school.

I have this anxiety issue lately.

I'll lay in bed at night and start up my ridiculous/crazy thoughts about Bo and his future.

Lots of kids celebrate when the last bell of the school year rings.

Daydreams about swimming pools, hanging out outside with the neighbor kids and being with mom all day float around in kids' heads. They dream about weeklong beach getaways and playing on boats at the lake.

Sometimes being a younger chick has it's advantages. (I say "youngER" because I don't feel that young anymore because I'm now 30. Ugh. Bummer.)

And sometimes it does not.

So, we're loaning our grill out for the spring.

Not to the neighbors, but to a momma bird and her babies.

Happy Friday the 13th, btw.

Sorry about last week. If any of you noticed I failed to post a blog. BUSTED.

It was April-something, 1995.

I was 14 years old and in the eighth grade. My boyfriend's name was Bobby.

First, I wanna start off by saying HAPPY EARTH DAY! I'm so proud of my in-laws for finally starting their recycling program at home.

 Also, in celebration of Earth Day, I might be taking Bo to see "African Cats" with his aunt Angela. (Unless he chooses "Rio" instead.) 

We've finally found a family activity that helps get my head quiet.

Who would have thought? FISHING! 

I never realized how much time and effort it takes to be a good coach until I lived with one.

On the baseball field, I'm known as "Luke's wife," "The coach's wife," and "Who do I make the check out to?"

You all set a record last week. Do you know what it was? It was the first time that NO ONE commented on my blog. First. Time. Kinda made me sad.

I guess it wasn't all that interesting. But where is everyone? Do I need to stir something up? Talk about minivans? Want me to retire?

So, how DO you keep a "vacation high?" You know, the feeling of relaxation and happiness you feel before, during and immediately after some time off work. 

My 11 days of not going into the office were, what's a word... phenomenal. 

Yes, STL. St. Louie. The Lou. A.K.A. St. Louis MOE. (Wish I could link the St. Louis Nelly song, but it's inappropriate and I want to keep my job. I've seen him in concert, btw.)

I'm off work for 11 days. I'm pretty excited, but it's not like I'm going to Key West or anything ... Bo's spring break starts next week and since I was late on planning a beach vacation we are staying in town.

Bo starts kindergarten in August. Not only will he start growing and maturing before my eyes, but this will also mark the beginning of his school uniform phase.

I LOVE the idea of school uniforms.

Just after Bo was born we still had a film camera. You know, the kind where you had to load actual film and take it over to Walgreen's to get it developed?

I used to be good at keeping up with inserting my prints into a photo album. I couldn't wait to see how the pics turned out.

I haven't put myself in any kind of election since high school, or maybe it was grade school.

Anyway, the past few years I've been one of those neighbors who complained about the Home Owners Association. You can read an old blog about that here.

...then it's a LEGO NINJAGO cake he gets.

"Bo Luke, what kind of cake do you want for your birthday?"

Well, this is one thing I can scratch off my bucket list.

My husband has always wanted a pinup tattoo. No way would I ever want him to have another woman tatted on his body, so I told him that some day I'd go and get a pinup done so that I would be the pretty woman on his skin for life.

You'd think being a Pre-K momma would be a simple task for a mom of just a measly one kid ...

I thought it would be too, until I started to get a somewhat lengthy list of things to do that were Pre-K related.

Literally, nothing at all. I was worried for nuthin'.

The past few weeks have been filled with lots of poking, prodding, pricking, opening, really bright lights and doctors getting really super close to my personal space.

Sing it, Frank.

Guess what I did this past week? TMI?

Way up in the sky, little lamb, do you see what I see?

Seriously though, I'm not talking about stars or lambs or shepherd boys, what I'm really literally asking you is... Do you see what I see?

I don't like to be sized up according to my charitable donations/gifts to others.

Remember, there is room in heaven for all of us, even the ones who don't donate or volunteer. So scoot over and quit with the "I'm special" bit.

I was just off for 13 days, seven of them furlough days, so I decided to gather my inner Martha.

When I returned to work this past Monday, my supervisor said that I looked like I "had just gotten off a Caribbean cruise." I guess not working and being semi stress free does the body good. I slept like a baby all 13 days, btw.

(Disclaimer: There will be no TFJ blog next week because I'll be on my third furlough since being employed by The Kansas City Star. NO, I don't get paid for this blog, and YES, I needed a break from it anyways, and NO, technically I CAN'T blog because I am to have nothing to do with The Star while on my furlough. Just sayin')

Well, I wrote this blog while sitting outside by a fire pit , under a blanket and with hot chocolate by my side.  

'Tis the season to be thankful. 

Lately, I've almost forgotten about what it means to be thankful for the things I have in life.

It's getting dark earlier, which means varmints are out earlier, which means more roadkill.

Within the past few weeks I've seen more blood and guts on I-35/I-435 southbound/northbound than I've ever wanted to. (Do you think it's unhealthy to drive into your garage with all that nasty roadkill under your car/in your tires?)

Something's been bothering me the past few months which has caused my blood to boil every time I'm either headed to work or going home.

That "something" is the IDIOT driver who thinks it's OK to cut me off when clearly the construction sign reads "RIGHT LANE ENDS" two freakin' miles ago.

Last night I went to a "supper club" thing at a local bar with a dear friend of mine.

I had never been to this ongoing event, but was excited to see a poet, comedian, musician and artist performing for a rather small crowd.

Luke and I have decided to introduce Bo to the world of Martial Arts.

Ever since the Disney movie "Kung Fu Panda" arrived under the Christmas tree, our little one has been jump kicking off the couch and swinging swords around like a crazed ninja.

I wouldn't really consider myself high maintenance. I mean, all you have to do to please me is buy a little sweet tea vodka, perhaps some chocolate, smile a lot and book a few trips to Florida. That's not asking for much, I don't think.

However, I'm not really talking about me. I'm talkin' about my bad a$$ Dodge Magnum that is on the verge of reaching 100,000 miles. 

Light 'em up and watch them burn, teach them what they need to learn HA!
Dirty hands aint made for shakin', aint a rule that aint worth breakin'
Well I'm giving up on love cause love's given up on me

I've been on a Miranda Lambert kick lately. And today I'm gonna buy tickets to go see her in action on Nov. 18 at the Independence Events Center. 

"Oh, you're blond again ..."

"Yeah, I like to change it up, you know ... depending on my mood and all."

PartyLite
Lia Sophia
The Pampered Chef
Arbonne
Tupperware
Avon

These are the types of parties I'm talking about.

There is one doc I see regularly, besides my midwife, and that would be my lovely dentist.

Every six months or so I make myself an appointment. I've got this thing about keeping my mouth clean. Like, physically clean, not "language clean." :)

Well, I'm still working on it. Working on trying for baby No. 2. And it's really starting to mess with my positive outlook.

Obviously it hasn't happened yet. Well, it did, but then it didn't. 

Last weekend I had my first ever garage sale.

Honestly, before this, I had never even been to a garage sale. I was a bit nervous and had no idea what to expect.

(Disclaimer: I won't be blogging next Friday because I will be on my furlough. It doesn't feel good to not get paid, but it does feel good to take time off! I know, you're bummed out, right?)

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For some reason bathroom hygiene has been on my mind. Weird? Maybe. But whatever.

Having a boy makes my stress about nasty bathrooms not as bad as it could be. It's me I worry about.

I know that I dreamed something this morning, but I can't really remember what it was ... 

I'm a dreamer though. I dream every night. But unless I tell someone about my dreams right after I wake up, they usually slip from my memory within a few minutes.

I know you all have been there before.

You're in the checkout line at Target or Price Chopper, or whatever place strikes your fancy. You are about to purchase something totally personal, and you start to blush and think that you have to explain yourself to the cash register chick/dude as to why you are purchasing such an item.

The other night I thought it was raining (wouldn't be surprised) when I heard what sounded like rain drops tapping on my back sliding glass door.

I walked over, opened the curtains ... nope, it was a swarm of June bugs. Pesky mother-jumpers.

President Obama visted KC yesterday. Apparently he spoke about the regular "stuff" like the economy, clean energy and JOBS. Surprise, surprise. 

I didn't even know he was gonna be here, to be honest.

Last week I had to turn in my self evaluation for work.

What I really wanted to write on it was: "I work my a%$ off, I'm an awesome designer, and I deserve a big raise ..." HAH. Don't we all.

I haven't been sick in a while, but APPARENTLY I forgot to knock on wood because since last Monday night my body's been infected with some sort of stomach flu/bug/bacterial infection.

Thanks a lot to whoever started this mess. Perhaps you didn't wash your hands and I touched a door knob right after you ... maybe you were the cook at KFC and put an infected piece of chicken in my 12 piece bucket ... OR just MAAAYBEEE you were the one who sent your kid to school sick and the germ somehow traveled on/in my son and got to ME.

I just bought my first real painting from a local artist.

Well, perhaps it's my second, because I did commission an artist, Neil Nakahodo, to paint a mural on my son's bedroom walls back in 2006 ... but it's not really "moveable" art like what's usually on a canvas, because it was painted directly on the walls. (I'm gonna miss it when we move.)

It's that time of year. Festival time.

As soon as it gets hot and sticky outside and you can hear locusts and see lightening bugs, just about every town in Missouri and Kansas has their own little celebration of sorts.

Time keeps on slippin'... slippin'... slippin' ... into the future... feed the babies who don't have enough to eat...

Lately, I haven't found the time to go to the damn grocery store.

My 4-year-old sure is making his mom proud lately.

I know it can get boring reading about how "cool" other people's kids are ... so I'll try and keep it short. Here are a list of things that my little guy has accomplished just recently:

Sometimes when I can't sleep at night I lay in bed and flip through TV channels. I scan each channel for about 2 seconds looking for something interesting. (Something other than a 30-minute Proactive Skin Care Solution infomercial)

Midnight is not a popular hour for anything on TV, so every once in a while I pause on QVC to see what kind of crap they are selling.

Yeah, I'm talking about the kind that invade your computer, not the ones that invade your immune system... (I survived flu season with no flu shot, btw.) 

I haven't had a computer virus since around 2003, but I got one the other day while wandering around on Facebook and checking my Hotmail account.

The other day I went on a field trip with Bo and his preschool class. We went to the Martha LaFite Thompson Nature Sanctuary in Liberty and it was really cool. I suggest it, btw. (website is here. )

Everything was going great, then I noticed a kid next to Bo having troubles with a runny nose.

I don't have any macaroni necklaces yet, but I do have a bracelet made out of beads and that bendy wire stuff. It's mostly pink, and I don't care for pink... but I wear it because my precious little guy made it for me and it's my sweetest piece of jewelry.

I'm a sucker for keepsakes. I absolutely love them. 

We are at that age where everyone we know is getting married (and having babies.) Spring is wedding season, although lately a lot of people have been getting married in the untraditional fall or even winter.

Luke and I get invited to at least one wedding a year. Tomorrow we will be attending one in Blue Springs to celebrate the unity of some friends of ours, Katy and Corey.

First things first: I don't like road trips. My arse gets sore and my ADHD kicks in.

I can't sit in a car that long and I get terribly bored and agitated. The radio starts to piss me off and I can't stand listening to CDs over and over again. I don't have time to load an iPod, either. 

Today's blog doesn't really have a nut graph ... hah, I said "nut graph." It's just going to be me blabbing about my week as a SAHM.

Well, not really a SAHM, more like a working mom with some paid days off. 

Every time I see those "Your Baby Can Read" commercials on TV, I watch them in disgust, not believing that a 9 month-old can actually read.

An early development system? Brain connections? Really? Come on. 

I'm proud of myself today. Yesterday I got so fired up over an issue that I called the KCMO Police Department and spoke to an investigator from the Attorney General's office.

Yeah, don't mess with me, I'm a whistleblower in training. (Everyone knows if they piss me off they might end up in a blog too... heh.)

I was raised to respect stuff. Stuff like toys, cars, houses ... basically anything bought with hard-earned money.

My parents worked hard so that we could have nice things, and they made sure we kept them nice. I don't know about you all, but there was no money tree in our backyard.

You all better go buy some Powerball tickets. It's up to $200 million.

We hardly ever play, but for some reason Luke's co-workers got us into buying two tickets a week. They pool their tickets for a better chance at winning and plan on splitting it 12 ways, or something like that.

I am one of the lucky ones who gets to attend the sold-out Norah Jones concert Saturday night at The Midland.

I ran in 20-degree weather without a coat from The Star building to the P&L just to make sure I got tickets because there were only a few left and I wanted my piece of Norah.

Ever since I can remember, my dad had me in a gym, whether it be at my sister's volleyball practices, my practices or sending us to the YMCA and Whatsoever in Northeast KC for summer camps.

I've been athletic and competitive since grade school. (Not so much now, although I do play some volleyball in a Liberty women's league.) My dad used to take me to the Roger T. Sermon Community Center in Independence starting from when I was in sixth grade to learn how to lift weights.

OK, maybe I just have a mild case of jewelry obsession. I mean, people like to collect different things, right?

I wear it every day. My four main daily pieces include: my wedding ring, a nearly six- or seven- year old Citizen Eco-Drive watch from my in-laws, some sort of bracelet (usually my favorite black one from Espana Way in Miami with Christianity symbols on it), and any pair of earrings that match my outfit.

Hey guys, so I couldn't disappoint and had to take some time to sit down and write some stuff. Hopefully I can get this all done before Project Runway starts. (45 min.)

I'm doing well, considering. Emotionally, I'm ready to move on. I'm ready to start trying again for baby No. 2. (Although, when I see a pregnant woman, my eyes tear up and it makes me a bit sad...)

Well, I've contemplated all day long on whether I should write this blog or not. I came to the conclusion that it would be good therapy for me to just get it all out there.

I was 12 weeks pregnant and yesterday had a miscarriage. The last 24 hours have been high on my list for one of the saddest days of my life. 

Look at that beauty above. Yeah, my plumber hubby built that! From scratch! He's talented and I'm really proud of him for actually finishing a project. (It's taken about three weeks, but perfection cannot be rushed... heck, three weeks is pretty darn good!)

I know a new project shouldn't have been started, because after all, Bo's bathroom still isn't completely painted. Blah. But we needed these shelves for all of Bo's crap.

I think maybe he finished this project because he was excited about it, unlike painting a wall. I don't blame him.

Last night we went to a Missouri Mavericks hockey game at the Independence Events Center to celebrate me and my friend's birthdays. (My actual bday is on Sunday.)

We had a party of 19, which was awesome because I haven't seen some of my friends in forever.

"Well Bo, maybe they are going to go catch some bad guys."

"But, but... but... we don't have bad guys in our city, only where Spiderman lives."

On Sunday Luke and I became godparents to Ava Lynne Kelley.

When my friend Jill asked Luke and I to be godparents we felt honored and loved. It truly is a blessing. She has so many friends and family and to be the ones chosen feels sacred and special.

Has anyone ever done it? Brought a foreign exchange student into your home to live with your family?

I haven't, but I really want to!

Before Bo, we used to buy something for our house as a Christmas gift to each other: carpet, paint, lumber for a fence or deck etc.

After Bo we decided it was better and more fun to just get gifts for him, and our gift would be the joy on his face every Christmas morning. So a couple of days ago I jokingly asked my wife what she wanted for Christmas…

Not sure why I'm in this irritating mood, but I snapped last night after going to the grocery store and hearing my No. 1 grocery store pet peeve:

"Is plastic OK?"

My husband does an awesome job fixing things (plumbing, cars, sheet rock, electrical, you name it) and he does an even better job on home improvement projects. He's really particular, which makes him good because he pays attention to detail.

He's one of those construction guys that ain't afraid to get down and dirty. (No pun intended...)

So, my husband says I'm a weather sleeper. Whatever that means...

I guess he thinks I like to sleep when it's cold or rainy. Hey, I'm Aquarius, what can I say?

Last weekend we celebrated Luke's 30th by taking a short trip to Austin, Texas, to watch the Longhorns crush the Kansas Jayhawks. Hook 'em. (Austin is a weirdly fun town, btw.)

I've been messing with Luke lately by telling him that he's going bald and that he's getting fat ... I'm kidding of course.

Yes, I did just take a pic of my dead mouse. Nasty eh?

A few weeks ago I woke up at 4 a.m. and heard the sound of tiny little nails scratching sheetrock from the inside of my bedroom wall.

Well hello there. Miss me? :) Mhmm.

So yeah, a few weeks ago I made my first 911 call. Excitement! Here goes:

(Disclaimer: For all my fans out there, I won't be blogging next week because I'll be on my furlough. Yeah, sorry ... it's gonna ruin your Friday isn't it?)

Anyways.

Imagination movers are music to your ears!......   

Imagination movers. You got to think about it.
Imagination movers. You got to talk about it.
Imagination movers. You got to sing about it.
I think what this situations needs is some imagination.

Wednesday around lunch time I got a call from school saying that Bo Luke threw up after nap time. I asked the nurse if he had a fever and she said no. (That was a bit of relief.)

Well, at least it's the first time so far this year he's been sick. 

Bo's school has a "Grandparent's Day" celebration every year. All the grandparents go to the school and spend time with their grandbabies during school hours.

If the children don't have grandparents, the school invites the parents or 'special friends' to come that day.

Sorry, I'm just a little irritated. Actually, no, I'm not sorry ... this is a personal blog isn't it? I'm not here to write essays, report on breaking news or go out and interview people. I don't even get paid for this. I'm just here to spew out my weekly thoughts. 

Everywhere I turned this week (including the internet and news on TV) people were talking about flu shot this, flu shot that, flu, FLU, FLUUUU!!

You might be wondering ... what kind of questions.

Not the easy ones. Easy questions would be something like: Why do hippos live in water or why does the sun move around in the sky ...

"Bo Luke, do you need to go potty?"

"No."

We went out of town last weekend (on several airplanes) and when we got back and settled down, there was a documentary about Sept. 11 on the History channel. Sometimes I forget about the anniversary until I see something on TV or hear someone on the radio talking about it.

This got me thinking about pre-Sept. 11, and about how things have changed so much in airports/airplanes/security.

In the late 80's or early 90's my sister and I had a Nintendo. My favorite game was 'Skate or Die.' I was on it a few times, maybe for an hour or two, but I wasn't really hooked on it like some kids/adults are today.

I never threw a fit when my mom told me to shut it off, and I never waited in a line at midnight to get the latest game. 

I started off this week with a terrible cold. Every morning since last Friday I've been coughing up rainbow colored mucus and walking around the office feeling like I had a fish bowl stuck over my head.

On Tuesday I got a call from home saying that the city's Department of Animal Control sent a letter saying they received a phone call about excessive barking from my dogs.

I know you're all probably sick of hearing all the 'first day of school' stories and there's only so many 'first day of school' pics and facebook updates one can take... eh, what's one more?

About two months ago I started trying to prep Bo and tell him about the new routine at his new school. We went to several new parent meetings and had even driven Bo by his the school once or twice. The Sunday before school started he got to go in his classroom and meet his new teacher.

Crap. Not sure how this all started. Hmmm, maybe he got it from his father... (Who does not like water but knows how to at least swim and save himself, just not others.)

Bo is afraid of the water. He won't even put his feet in. He'll run through sprinklers, but that's about it. A big part of our HOA dues goes toward pool maintenance. And we don't even get to use it. (Although my nephew has been coming over and using it.)

Bo starts his new school in one week. I've been a little nervous for him. OK, frantic... as any new 'mother of a school-aged kid' would be, but I'm mostly trying to make sure that he has everything he needs for his first day.

He actually has a school supplies list. For preschool! The kind of dork mom I am, I was actually excited about going shopping for glue sticks and Dixie cups.

We went to Skies restaurant for my best friend Jill's birthday on Tuesday. The view was great, the food was, eh ... the prices... HIGH. (As expected) Since there was a party of six or more, gratuity was included in our bill, 18 percent. A little more than my normal 15 percentl. (Which I think is fair.)

My friends around the table didn't just sign their names or receive change and put it in their pockets, they gave more ... yes, more than the 18 percent that was included. (One is a restaurant manager and the other is a bartender, so go figure.)

When quittin' time comes around and I'm on my way home all I can think about is how much laundry awaits me and how much of a mess my house is.

I try and contemplate about which chore I should do first. (This often ends in me blaring the radio while going up 435 and trying to forget about everything.) 

I know there are no holidays to celebrate anytime soon (is Halloween next?) but this coming year's festivities will be my first year with officially divorced parents and no where to celebrate but here, at my house. (I'm terrible at hosting things, btw.)

Why am I thinking about this in mid July? Well, the Fourth of July was a bit challenging this year, that's why. I'm trying to give myself plenty of time to prepare for the next thing.

You know that song from the Imagination Movers called "I Want My Mommy?" If you haven't heard it click on the song here.

I caught Bo singing it this morning and was wishing he really understood what the words meant. Maybe he does, who knows.

I've been watching too much late-night HGTV.

For some reason on my week off I've decided to paint and half-ass decorate, which hasn't been done since the damn house was bought.

In two weeks I'll be attending my 10-year high school reunion. Boy did they (the apparently then-cool class president) choose a good place to have it. O'Dowd's at Zona Rosa. Hmph. They must still be in the bar phase of their life. 

I have to say, I am kinda lookin' forward to it. Seeing how different everyone looks and how much all the boys matured. I wanna see who got fat/skinny/knocked up. I wonder if any of the nerds got super cute. 

Yep, I've lived the past few weeks without air conditioning... In case you haven't stepped outside it's in the 90's.

Come on, I'm waiting for all the "OH MY GOD THAT WOULD SUCK!" comments... well 'cause I need the sympathy right now mmkay?

Sigh. I'm honestly overloaded with this DJ Jazzy Jeff and P&L District stuff.

I know. I know. Racism is a very touchy/sticky subject, one that I (being an "other" girl) would rather steer clear of.

... which drives me completely i-n-s-a-n-e.

There are bad habits forming/already in progress in my house that I'm trying to fix.

Anyone watch the season debut? Mhmm. Btw, I've been a fan since episode one. (Ah, money really can buy you looks ... she looks good for having birthed eight children, eh?)

You'd have to be living under a rock if you haven't heard or seen any of the news that the pair may be getting a divorce. Duh, it's even been on CNN.

Traditionally Memorial Day celebrates people who died while serving our country. But a lot of people use the day/weekend to visit cemeteries and gravesites.

I'm not a big fan of visiting the dead. I always look down at the grass and wonder what the bones look like in there ... if there are any. I wonder if the people I'm visiting can see me or feel my presence.

That's what you say isn't it? When you're "trying" to get pregnant?

There's pregnant women all around me. Just two days ago another co-worker announced she was due in November. Hmmm.

No wishing Mother Earth a Happy Mother's Day from my 'hood, thanks to dun... dun... dun... my stupid HOA.

Um, so yeah, my neighborhood homeowner's association is keeping their ban on vegitable gardens and clothes lines. 

Last Friday we decided to take Bo to the new K, mainly to see what all the fuss was about, but also it was a nice night, and eh ... we had nothing else to do. 

Apparently it was also the first Buck Night of the season. And so the story goes:

Sure, everyone has a dream. One of mine, (that I take very seriously) is to live, work and play by the ocean. I feel like I belong there. It's like I'm at peace when I'm surrounded by water, my blood pressure goes down, I'm just a happier person. Maybe 'cause I'm an aquarius?

Usually I talk about how great KC is, well cause it is, but this time when I got home ... I felt homesick from where I had just been. I'm startin' to get tired of this midwestern life. Tiny lakes and rivers just don't cut it. And yes, even with good vodka and friends around, there's still a missing puzzle piece.  

(Caution, explicit material!!! Not my words... but opening links in this blog is not safe for work or small children!!!) Ummm...

I like to think I have a pretty good sense of humor. It's hard for me to take things personal or the wrong way unless you're blabbing about my job or child. Then I tend to get a little pissy. But, in general, tell me a joke and I'll laugh.

Woooot! My baby boy got into the private school in which he's been on the waiting list for almost 3.5 years now.

We got the call last friday. "Hello, is this Mrs. Fabela-Jonas?" Yeees. "We have an open spot for B....." Yeeeaaaahhhhhh!!!!!!!! (I don't even think she got to finish her sentence. I am really really really excited. Can you tell?)

"Lollipop, must mistake me you're the sucker
To think that I would be a victim not another
Say it, play it how you want it
But no way I'm never gonna fall for you, never you, baby"

Yes ma'am, I was shakin' my arse to the legendary Ms. Spears last night. (It's 2:15 a.m ... and I'm not in bed yet because I'm writting for all of you... yes you...)

Seems like there have been too many lately. Or maybe I'm more aware of them since my new found love of news has blossomed over the past five years. Hmm, wonder why.

Seriously though, anyone notice the amount of plane crashes this year? There have been 11 so far. And it's only March. 

After growing up in Indep., pronounced "En-dep," then moving up north, I was for sure I'd left all my crazy/peculiar/crackhead neighbors behind. Mhmm. Not so much.

Back at our old house I had a neighbor who dressed his tree up to look like a man ... not quite a scarecrow ... well, there was no straw of course ... but a man. Clothes, plastic eyes, nose, glasses, ears even arms and gloves attached as hands. And this was all year round. I'd look outside and poor Mr. Treeman would be out there with his flannel shirt on lookin' like he was freezin his arse off. Mind you, in the city we ain't got no crows.

Um, right. Actually, I'm scared to freakin' death up here, north of the river that is...

As tornado season approaches (wait, it might already be here. This week was severe weather week or something like that...) I'm filled with terrible memories of last year and camping out in the basement at 2 a.m. in the effin' morning. Remember that blog?

I can write the three words, feel them, show them ... even text them ... but when it comes to saying them, it's amazingly hard for me. I can't seem to be the one who says it first either.

I have kind of mixed emotions about that phrase. I mean, whenLuke tells me he loves me after a phone conversation I'm automatically programmed to say it back. But after a while the words just become like another "hi" or "bye" kinda thing. Saying it so much everyday makes the phrase lose it's ... I dunno, spark.

Oh my goodness. You guys wanna hear the definition of a "soccer mom" from Wikipedia? Too bad, I'm gonna tell ya anyways. Here goes:

"Usage and early history: The phrase 'soccer mom' generally refers to a white, married middle class woman who lives in the suburbs and has school age children. She is sometimes portrayed in the media as busy or overburdened and driving a minivan. ( Hah, they said minivan ) She is also portrayed as putting the interests of her family, and most importantly her children, ahead of her own."

Huh?

OK, I'll make sense outta that headline ... just gimmie a minute.

The past week has been filled with too much freaking Betty Crocker. No, I'm not the grinch of cakes... but here's the deal:

After hearing about my parents' divorce last week, I had to turn around and attend a 35th wedding anniversary party for Luke's parents on Saturday. I'm totally happy for them, and it's not their fault my parents split... but it couldn't have come at a better time in my life. Sigh. (Linda, I know you're reading this... congrats again! I truely am happy for you guys.)

No, not me. My parents.

"And so it is... just like you said it would be ... life goes easy on me, most... of the time." (Currently listening to: Damien Rice, The Blower's Daughter. )

OK ... I'm NOT preggo ... but all the sudden ... well guys, I walked into Baby Gap to buy a gift for the new baby that one of my best friends had this past Wednesday (Ella Michelle 7 lbs. 6 oz) ... and what can I say... the little 0-3 month onsies had me (GULP) kinda sorta feenin' for another. (Yikes!)

Oh crap. Just when I thought I bought the last diaper (he's poop-trained now!), the last sippy cup, just when I thought I washed off my last high chair tray ...

(Or, how I like to say it, "All-timers")

Um, I'm actually not 28 until tomorrow! Wooot, that's right, it's b-day time for this hot mess. (I just wanted an excuse to say "hot mess"....)

Well, I'll keep it short and sweet.

So get this, yesterday was the first day my little guy wore underwear to school! Wooooot! A very proud mama moment here. (Remember I thought the day would never come?)

-----------------------------------------------

First things first ... can I mention that our heater just broke? Just now, it shot craps ... (The house and heater are only three years old!) It's Thursday night and we have NO heat. AND it's freezing outside. Imagine Tony the Tiger saying Greeeeeaat! Sigh.

My dad was in the hospital for 6 days this past week. (BTW, North Kansas City is really nice.)

It actuallly started last Thursday when he came home from work and started to swell up like a marshmellow man. He called me that night and said his eyes were swollen and he could hardly see and that he was driving himself to the ER. They said it was some sort of allergic reaction to something and gave him a shot of steriods and benadryl then sent him home.

This topic has come up twice this past week.

I'm having a really really hard time wrapping my brain around it. And I'm not quite sure how I feel about it either. One of my friends says she never wants/desires/needs any children. Ever.

As I write this it's Thanksgiving night and my mom is in the kitchen cooking. My dad is sitting at the kitchen table staring at me wondering what I'm writing...

Tonight's menu: A juicy/succulent/moist fried cajun turkey from Popeye's, a honeybaked ham coated with sugar, green bean caserole, sweet potatoes with cinnamon, sugar and marshmallows, mashed potatoes with turkey gravy whipped with a little milk to make them fluffy, homemade stuffing and hot rolls coated with a pound of butter in and on top.

There are no dieters in my family. Everything is the real deal. Must have taken in at least 3,000 to 4,000 calories tonight. (I'm so gonna see it on my arse come January...)

We got four free tickets to the Chief's game last Sunday against the Saints. Everyone I know either had plans or hates football, not to mention the KC Chiefs suck this year... (can I say that?)

We finally did find some takers for the other two tickets, Luke's cousin and his wife. They were supposed to meet us in the parking lot ... however, they called us 20 minutes before game time to let us know that they were just given six free tickets by his other cousin.

It all started when I was off work for eight days. (Jill's wedding was great btw, I cried at the end of the night, hugging my best friend ... I think it was the vodka ... insert embarassed smiley here) Instead of sleeping during my days off, which sounded real nice, I decided to clean out my closet. I was feeling ambitious...

Never thought I was that attached to my old pre-baby clothes until now. (I know there's no excuse, Bo is almost 3 ... it's just laziness ... that's all. Why O' why does the gym have to be open 24/7? Besides that, I truly think my hip bones and whatever other bones around my waist are permanently expanded. (heavy sigh)) I envy the women who put their pre baby clothes on a month after giving birth. Curse you all!!

...did I think other people besides my best friend and maybe my own mom would read a blog of mine.

Well, I'm gonna jump on the bandwagon and write a little something about my first year of blogging for mom2mom. Stay with me here...

I know the topic isn't new ... but I'm starting to get frustrated. I mean, how am I supposed to feel when the biggest diapers (size 6 for 35+ lbs.) start fitting snug on my little guy? He is big for his age.. but still... (Seriously, people think he's 4 ...)

I've been told many many times not to rush a child or force them to potty train. But I think I may need to start rethinking that.

Pinkwasher: noun. A company that purports to care about breast cancer by promoting a pink ribbon campaign, but manufactures products that are linked to the disease.

Any of you heard that term before? I haven't. Hmmm, it got me thinking...

I don't have any tattoos. (Luke has eight) I'm not against them at all, it's just that I've never wanted one nor did I know what I wanted.

Until now.

Tomorrow night is the bachelorette party for the wedding I'm the matron of honor in. We are renting a party bus (equipped with a stripper pole) and are cruising around downtown KC to places such as PBR in the P&L District and Ernie Biggs dueling piano bar in Westport.

We have the bus until 3 a.m.

I got to see them all last weekend at Luke's 10 year class reunion. (Well, there weren't that many, and besides, I like to think I was well liked...hah! No really, I was!) Hate is a harsh word, but yeah, there were some girls I disliked a long long time ago... who didn't not get along with at least one person in high school? (I can hear you all now... "10 year reunion...I just had my 20!" Anyways...)

Luke is one year older than me, but since we went to the same school, St. Mary's in Independence, MO, I know everyone he knows. And actually probably talked to more last weekend than he did.

Cheryl, my housecleaner, called last night and told me she wouldn't be cleaning houses anymore. (Cheryl, if you read this, I still love you!!! Please come back!!!) Well, she's doing it for a good reason, to spend more time with her husband.

Cheryl's been cleaning my home for almost two years. After I had Bo and went back to work, the toilets got neglected and the floor never got mopped. Dog hair was everywhere. And things started to smell bad. Ew! It was sad to see all the dust gather and I was starting to think it was getting unhealthy breathing it in.. Luke does a lot, but it was hard to find time to do the deep cleaning, you know... scrubbing stuff like the showers and tubs. I had finally found someone who I trusted with my personal stuff and who was reasonably priced... and now.... she's gone... cue in Hall and Oates "She's Gone."

I feel like a b.... no wait... like a nagging wife that I thought I'd never ever be. It all started Wednesday night.

Luke was at his softball game and Bo and I decided to spend some mom and son time alone at home. Bath time rolled around and I'm thinking the night would end on a peaceful note.Then I see Bo making his "I'm going poop and you can't stop me now" face. Yep, in the bath tub.

I guess I should start off by introducing my best friend, "Stoner." (Her last name is Stone.. first name is Jill...and no, she doesn't smoke the dutchie...I've just always called her that since I've known her.)

I met her in high school, we both went to St. Mary's in Indep. MO. We weren't really that good of friends in the beginning but grew close as we both stayed in KC for college. Jill is one of those friends who doesn't give a crap what you do wrong or what you do right... she loves ya for who you are. You can always count on having a good time when she's around and she's definitely not afraid to be goofy or to make an ass of herself. I can be myself around her. She's my bff.

It's a love/hate relationship... Some go there and have the time of their lives, others never care to return. The city I'm talking about is my favorite city of all time...the city that I return to year after year. (Besides the year I was preggo and the first year of Bo's life...) It never gets boring, it's ever-changing, it never sleeps. The entertainment there is out of this world. I'm not talking about the big apple either...(although I've been there too) I'm talking about Las Vegas. Yes, Vegas baby.

And guess where I'm going this weekend..... yep. (Jealous much?)

Huh? What is that?

Google it. Masklophobia is supposedly a fear of mascots or people dressed in huge animal costumes with enormous accentuated heads and a weird waddle-like walk.

WOAH... cool, did I hit a nerve last week or what! I thought a herd of minivans was gonna follow me home the other night.

Well... on to the next topic ladies, which hopefully won't greet me with more hateful personal attacks. I have put myself into an easy target situation, so I expect it, but I will never EVER stop being myself or expressing my obviously unique abnormal opinions.!? With that said, it's time for more rubber-necking... over here, HEY YOU, over here....I'm on the left with the ugly Magn_ ....... oh never mind :)

I can handle my sexy curves, my big bottom ... no problem ... big boobs, OK ... bad skin, well, there's always makeup ... belly getting bigger??? I better get my arse to the gym... but the other day I found two gray hairs. (You can stop with the "oh pleases"...)

Jeez ... I'm only 27 and I wasn't ready for this. I started having a mini crisis thinking about getting older and thinking about how many more years I have left before things really start going south. Next thing I know wrinkles and age spots mistaken for freckles will start to appear. I'm officially ... well what does this officially make me? Paranoid maybe.

...is the sound I hear (no, it's not the headboard...ha!) when I accidentally veer off into the shoulder lane on the highway after trying to find my son's McDonald's toy that had just fallen to the floorboard in the back seat of my car.

I'm fully aware of how dangerous it is to turn around to cater to your 2-year-old's needs while trying to drive at the same time. I really can't wait until he's old enough to not have to ride in a car seat or booster so that he can bend down and pick up his own toy.

The boys and girls at daycare are starting to push and shove. Their little 2-year-old personalities are beginning to appear and it's not uncommon that Bo comes home with a little scratch or bruise...

The other day I asked him where the scratch on this knee came from... he said "Lily push me." I don't really know if she did or not (I wasn't too worried about it... and I hope Lily's mom doesn't read this) but what I was more concerned with was whether or not my son was going to grow up to be a "sissy boy" or a "tough guy" as Luke likes to say.

...Is something I say when I refer to my rather voluptuous derriere...

In two weeks I'm going on our once a year float trip down the Niangua River. It is only until now that I am confident enough to get back into a two piece since being preggo. (Scary huh!) I'm not like this sculpted beauty or anything, but it's taken almost 3 years to lose some of that stubborn baby weight...and I'm not gonna be afraid to show me. I still haven't lost it all, and probably never will... I've also come to a very realistic fact that my hips will not and never will shrink no matter what. I'm permanently damaged.

Last Saturday Bo and I took a trip to Best Buy to get a cd that I've been wanting forever (IIO- Poetica). It must have been the worst trip to a store I've ever had with my 2-yr-old. As soon as we walked in he saw some guys playing a baseball video game on one of the big screen tvs and wanted me to stand there with him so that we could watch.

I tried walking over to the music section and he screamed and cried while pulling on my shorts. The store was closing soon so I picked him up and went over to ask someone to help me find the cd. I couldn't hardly hear the guy, let alone respond to him because of the toddler mayhem. (My legs still have marks on them from someone wearing a pair of stride rite sandals kicking, which was part of the tantrum process...)

Early this week we got a call from the private school that we plan on sending Bo to. They said that he won't be able to attend preschool next school season but that they are almost positive he will get in the following year for Pre-K.

He's been on their list since he was 4 months old.

Last night I went to an advance movie screening of "Hancock." (The Will Smith superhero movie.) I design for Ink magazine, a publication for people in their 20's and 30's. (HOT 103 Jamz and Ink were sponsoring the event.) If you've picked up this week's issue the cover story (written by Jason Whitlock) is about the famous KC rapper Tech N9ne and his "Resurrection." (Most of you are probably saying "Who the hell is that?" ... but trust me... he's well known...)

Anyways, guess who was at the movie screening ... yeah ... Tech N9ne! And guess who got an autographed Ink...oh and a hug and kiss on the cheek? Mmmhmm, yours truly. The front of my magazine reads in black marker: "To Tasha, Love Tech N9ne Forever" I swear I felt like a school girl going up to him and asking for his autograph and telling him that I went to one of his concerts five years ago and that I met him at Sam's Club once.

I know last weekend was father's day... but I was too busy worrying about the new HOA dues that I almost forgot to write about one of the most important people in my life... my dad.

Let me introduce you to Gerardo Fabela, born November 22, 1956. (Why is it that men aren't as ashamed about their age as women?) He was born and raised in Kansas City with 8 siblings and grew up Catholic. He met my mom in high school, became a father at the age of 18, got kicked out of the army shortly after (something to do with allergies and health...), joined the printer's union where he worked third shift for nearly 20-something years and is now a union sheet metal worker on the verge of opening up his own shop. (He tells me he hasn't done too shabby with his inner city education and his goal is to leave his babies a little money after he's gone...)

I grew up in Independence MO where having a clothesline in your back yard was considered normal and expected. I also grew up where the trees were huge (and actually provided shade) and houses had their own character and unique colors. (Yes, there were pink ones...) Neighbors consisted both of young and old. Drug busts weren't surprising. And it wasn't unusual to hear an occasional police siren ... or two...

Now I'm almost embarrassed (not really) to say that I bought a new home in suburbia about 2 years ago. Land of beige and ornamental trees. (Why the uniformity? I just don't get it...) 3 ft. tall (max) wooden fences. And where it shocks the heck out of me when I see a bird fly by because I never see any nests around.

When you have a 2-year-old, it's almost impossible to avoid company when going to the bathroom or getting out of the shower...

Tuesday morning Bo woke up early, before I got a chance to get in the shower. I could have just washed my face, brushed my hair, and put on some clean clothes for work ... but the night before I played volleyball and felt gross and dirty...(When you miss your morning shower it messes up your whole day...)

It's been almost 2 and a half years since I was pregnant. I couldn't even begin to remember all the information I read in books, pamphlets, magazines, websites etc. etc....There were so many choices I had to make before Bo was born such as which kind of circumcision he would get, who would be his pediatrician, and what about all the immunizations there were out there...(that autism thing really scared me) One of the last things I remember reading in a magazine while waiting in my midwife's office was about the value of cord blood banking and how it could save my baby's life.

I remember thinking...woah this is something I should do if it can save my baby's life...then I looked into the cost and there was no absolute way I was going to be able to swing that. Besides, my midwife never said much about it...neither did the pediatrician I met with. My parents never saved mine... they hadn't saved my nephew's... and most people I talked to didn't do it either. It almost seemed like a new thing to do and not really a necessity.

So, after watching the movie "Super Size Me" in 2004 I swore I would never again eat McDonald’s. It’s not like I ate it all the time, just every once in a while. (My favorite was the McChicken sammich and apple pies…) Besides, isn’t it un-American to say that you’ve never eaten there?

After being such a strict mom... guess what... I’ve finally given up and fed Bo the addictive greasy junk. (Although I'm sure grandma has taken him there a few times...) I couldn't resist. What kid will grow up to say that they've never had a happy meal?

Saving up for a happy and healthy retirement is my No. 1 financial concern. Next in line is saving for my child's college education. I invest in a 529 college savings plan.

My parents never saved up for mine... They did however pay for private school all my life, so I can't complain too much... I ended up getting academic scholarships to cover most of my university expenses and paid the rest by working. I was lucky enough that I didn't have to get student loans. And of course it helped that I went to a local university where I didn't have to pay out-of-state tuition. (Go Roos!)

I live in a subdivision near 108th and Cookingham. Yep. If you've watched the news or read the paper then you know that's right where a tornado touched down last Friday. And remember I wrote about going Florida last weekend? Well, we almost didn't make it.

I was still packing at 2 a.m. last Friday morning. I had a load of laundry in the wash and one in the dryer. (Yes, I'm a last-minute packer.) The windows were open because it felt nice outside and I was enjoying the breeze... I was about to go to bed when all the sudden...........

Well... for 4 days anyways. :) 

I love Kansas City. I was born and raised here and I plan on staying for a while... (Probably not after retirement though...) I think KC is one of the best places to raise a family. However, every once in a while I need a vacation from work (especially downtown), tornado sirens and dinky little lakes and ponds.

Not much has gone on this past week... just the usual wake up, go to work, come home and go to bed routine.

However, my mom called me a few nights back. She reminded me that Mother's Day was coming up. (Dang, I almost forgot about it.) She asked if I wanted to go to the Barry Manilow concert at the Sprint Center this weekend with her and my grandma... she had gotten 4 free tickets from work.

This morning was a first.

As usual my alarm went off at 7 a.m. By the time I got done showering and getting dressed Bo woke up. I changed him, offered him his most favorite Sunbelt strawberry frosted granola bar, and put Sesame Street on the tv.

It's finally hit me. And I can't stand it anymore.

Today I looked over at the Valero as I was walking into work on Grand Blvd. and saw that gas was freakin' $3.24 a gallon! What is going on here? Do you think gas will actually go up to 4 bucks a gallon this summer? Something just doesn't seem right.  

Do you ever feel that other people's suggestions or opinions can come across as an insult? I took one as an insult this past week.

Bo has a real bad diaper rash. (BTW, it's not my first time treating diaper rash. My son is 2...) So I sent him to school with Desitin and medicated Johnson's baby powder.

When I ask most people I know about when they plan on having their first child they say: "There are still things I want to do before I have a baby." Or it's "I'm still too selfish and want to spend time with my husband."

I say: "There are still things I want to do before I DIE." And one of those things was to have a child. (On my before-I-die list: there's the PeaceCorps for retirement, traveling to Asia, Africa and South America... becoming a grandmother...owning my own business...learning to play an instrument...learning how to paint with oil...dig up dinosaur bones...) Mothers still have goals!

Dang it, I must have forgotten to knock on wood. Luke and Bo are both sick. (Don't know if it's the flu or not...) Great. I'll probably get it. (knock knock knock knock)

As most of you know, I am a full time working mom. When I told my boss on tuesday that I wouldn't be coming in the next day because daycare called and reported that Bo had a 101 temp (they can't return until after 24 hours of being fever and medicine free) she immediately told me to go home and take care of him, and to take as much time as needed. She never made me feel guilty for leaving and never asked about the work I hadn't finished yet.

So, I was lurking around parenting.com's site and found these cool gadgets that I thought I would share with everyone... (Hey, I can't always blog about boobs :) )

1.) Loopa Bowl... (website here) They describe it as a gyro-bowl (weird word) and supposedly stuff never spills... if you look at the website demo it looks pretty cool. I think I might order one. There's been too many times where I find Little Einstein star-shaped cereal pieces on the floor board of my car or under the couch cushions. This thing looks like it has some bad-a#$ swivel action!

I was spanked as a child, (even got the belt once or twice...and boy did I learn not to do whatever it was I did after that happened...) was stood in the corner for misbehaving and was sent to my room several times. But I would never say that I was abused, because I wasn't. And to this day I have an awesome relationship with both of my parents.

I'm not sure if the spanking worked or if other methods would have changed the way I matured as an adult. I'm not a violent person, I actually consider myself to be very loving and laid back... so what kind of scar does spanking leave on a child? Does it leave one at all? Does it teach a lesson? Does it work? 50 years ago why was spanking so widely accepted? Does all the increase in crime and violence in the world today have anything do with children being so spoiled with "nice discipline"? (wow, so many questions...)

Everyone is getting sick lately (I haven't caught anything yet, crap...better find some wood to knock on...might as well wash my hands too) and there is nothing more annoying than to hear someone sniffle once then say "I need to go see my doctor and get some drugs..."

Anyone ever hear about something called a white blood cell? (I'm being a smart-butt) You know... we have them for a reason... My web friend Wikipedia says that white blood cells, (leukocytes) are cells of the immune system defending the body against both infectious disease and foreign materials. Hey, how about that?... our bodies were created with something to fight infection! Isn't that somethin'? Also, after I became a mother I did a little research and found that a fever can be a good thing too. Really, it can be. They are signs that your body is doing its job. 

Is this old news? Dang, I'm out of the loop...

Apparently after googling the word "cyberbully" it's nothing new... but it is gaining national attention since the death of Megan Meier, a 13 year old Missouri girl who hanged herself after being "cyberbullied" by a mom. (You can read about her story here: Megan's story )

Usually I hand wash my Vicki's (Victoria's Secret bras)....but lately it's become a pain in the ass. (I think I can say that...)

Last October during our flight to Arizona I was looking through a SkyMall mag and saw this "as seen on tv" product. It was a little plastic ball with holes all around in which you could encase your bra into and then put it in the washer. Dang! I thought to myself...what a great invention. (Good bras are too expensive to mess up in the wash and hey, they hold one of our most prized body parts, our boobs.)

So yesterday The Doodlebops were signing autographs at the Independence Center from 3:30 to 5:00 p.m. I didn't even know they were gonna be there until my mom mentioned she heard something about it on the radio...

Yesterday was my birthday and I had the day off...

I'm talking about my husband...Luke.

For the past two weeks I've been working 12, sometimes 13 hours a day. (I'm involved in a big...no, let's make that a HUGE project at work.) Lately, the only time I've gotten to see my son and husband is in the mornings before work. I haven't been home to do anything...(just last night I stayed up until 2 a.m. taking down the damn Christmas tree)...

Money, money, money, money..... monnnaaay!!! 

In a month Bo turns 2 and that means daycare costs will go down by 50 bucks a week. Right on!!!

Apparently what's going on in Iowa right now is important.

I know what some of you may be thinking... the dumb young one doesn't know what's going on in the world. But are you really thinking that? Am I alone? Do all of you study up on your presidential candidates before you go vote?

Almost every male I've asked so far has played with some sort of toy gun as a child... and not one of them is a violent social deviant ...heck, as a little girl I even had one of those Red Ryder BeBe guns. I'd go in the back yard and shoot at plastic plates hanging from the clothes line. (Every once in a while a squirrel would get a run for their money.)

This Christmas I bought my nephew a Nerf N-Strike Longshot CS-6.

I grew up Catholic...went to a Catholic school, went to Church on Sundays... the whole shebang. Trust me, I'm far from perfect.

For me Christmas was always supposed to be about celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ, or so I was told. Sure I was into Santa and gifts and all the shopping...but there was always the nativity scene on the fireplace mantle and once in 8th grade I played the role of Mary in the school Christmas play.

From the time my mother was 6 years old she raised her brothers and sisters. She would tell me stories of my grandmother working 2, sometimes 3 jobs. I still don't believe her to this day that at the age of 6 she was getting up on a step stool in front of the stove and cooking dinner for her 4 siblings. That seems so impossible!

While working full time she was also there for me and my sister. She never complained... came home and cooked, cleaned and helped us with our homework. I'd hear her up at midnight doing laundry and dishes. I never knew at the time how hard that was. I took it for granted.

"I love you just the way you are..." 

That's what he says every time I say anything about being fat.

penis.

Yes, she said "Oh look, there's the penis."

My secret guilty pleasure.... celeb mags. (insert embarrassed smiley here)

So, an October issue of People magazine had an article about Halle Berry and her pregnancy....here's an excerpt:

May I rant about my morning? Please? Can I? Ok, here goes…

So the other day was Halloween. Halloween = candy. Candy = sugar. Sugar = bad. I’m not sure what happened, but I swear I only let my son have like 3 pieces of candy, max. (I have no clue what grandma sneaked in there…)

Girlfriend, you need a night out… or two...

Yep, you read it, a girl’s night out. BUT, first thing’s first... I am no Britney y’all…just wanted to get that out there. It’s rare I do a girls night out and when it happens it has to be scheduled at least a couple of weeks in advance.