{confessions} dried up. dried on. dried out.

I must confess:

The applesauce on the table -- dried on. Stuck so hard it takes fingernails to pry it off. And me, murmuring to myself about how I wish I would clean things up right away instead of waiting. I actually made a new years resolution about that once.

I get really grumpy with my laptop charger cord which doesn't always connect firmly enough to shoot electricity through. And that little message on top that says "not charging". Oh I don't like that. And I really don't like it when it has 3% and I'm fiddling with it trying to get it to start charging, you know, and it won't, and then it dies.

My somewhat sleep-deprived and generally loose screw three year old is not coping well or making good decisions these last few days and my patience is sometimes incredibly thin. I take deep breaths and vitamins and early morning walks and sometimes my five year old says, "it's OK mommy, I don't really like him right now either". Oooph. He's a squirmy red-headed boy of pure muscle who doesn't want to listen. 

And he is LOUD. Was Peter this loud? I confess. I'm going slightly insane. It's mostly the airplane noises really.

Oh my is summer ever like Dodgeball 2000 -- a wild version of the game with thousands of balls being thrown toward you at the same time. Normal life's requirements, yes. Add maintaining that garden you planted in the spring and now needs you to keep it alive in the grizzly heat. Add all the fruit becoming ripe and just begging us to harvest and preserve for winter. I am not living up to my own expectations and I have moments of extreme guilt. I only picked 10 pounds of blueberries. And didn't freeze a one.

I was supposed to blog about our yummy orange creamsicle homemade popsicles on Wednesday. I didn't get around to making them or photographing any little licking tongues. I confess. But there are some in the freezer now.

I've been bending a lot of page corners in the book I'm reading lately {Grace for the Good Girl by Emily Freeman}. Actually, some pages are bent double -- once to point to something good on one page and then there's something good on the opposite side and I have to bend it that way too. It's just a double scoop of amazing.

Me and my projects need to have a long chat. Just like the hokey pokey, I tend to throw my whole self in, working hard hard hard without any breaks, cause I gotta get it done so I can cross it off my list. And I get obsessed with the finish line, instead of a more balanced, spread out way of accomplishing things. It's not healthy. Sometimes I think I have to, but I think I could plan better so my projects wouldn't saturate my time so intensely. OK you? Long chat.

I've noticed something about myself. About two hours into a party I expire. I just dry up. I don't have anything else to say. I feel socially awkward. I want to leave. I need time alone to process. I'm finished. Kaput.

My heels are so super dry and cracked that they snag everything. Pedicure? What's that? Have I mentioned I'm too cheap for beauty treatments? I really should get that pumice stone out though. And the super glue. 

I don't really have time to blog anymore {sshhhh} and I'm trying to figure out what to do about that. I definitely need a quiet, alone activity that helps me process thoughts and be creative. That's why I love having this space. But when it becomes just another chore on my already way too long to do list.......well, that kinda defeats the purpose. So I keep reinventing things. Hoping to keep it interesting. But also designing it in such a way that it meets my own needs too.

Laundry day is that much easier when they don't wear many clothes {or any, sometimes -- potty training, remember?} And I decided they don't need a top sheet on their beds anymore.

Sometimes I stay up only five or ten minutes longer than the kids. Their bedtime is late, mine is early. Remember that morning walk? And how close I am to insanity? Especially on the days when Ezra goes to bed five minutes before me in the evening and is up fifteen minutes after me in the morning. Hello.

So -- I think that's about it. For now. Oh, and I ate ice cream two nights in a row. #mybad