Friday Five: the long-winded story version

1. SonB (who had a birthday on Monday and will now only let me refer to him as "Big Four-Year-Old" and not his name) is quite the... independent little boy. A bit precocious, one might say. (Or A LOT.) He used to be a really good eater, but for the last year and a half, almost every meal is a struggle with him. My husband decided to start telling him that with every bite he took, he was getting taller, to give him incentive to eat. So, now SonB has decided that he'll take a bite, then he gets down on the ground and tells his older brother "Tell Mommy that I'm coming to surprise her!" I have to wait for SonA to tell me, and then say, "Oh, no, where did SonB go?" and then he pops up and points to his head. I must then say, "Wow! Look you got taller, you must have had a bite of food!" To which he nods and tells me what he ate. And then it starts all over. EVERY. MEAL. EVERY. BITE. And if any of these steps gets messed up (if I jump the gun and say, "Where is SonB?" before SonA tells me he's coming for example), hoo-boy. Tantrum City. Well, now Baby Girl (who is officially 18 months old now) has decided that she needs to start patting the top of her head when she eats, too. Except she still uses a combination of a spoon/fork and her hands to eat, so this usually means that part of her meal ends up on top of her head. And I have to tell her, "Wow, you're getting taller, too!" and then she nods emphatically and grins at me, then eats some more. (She's still a good eater--in fact, she usually out eats my boys.) Living with these kids is never dull, that's for sure!

2. So for Mother's Day last year, SHH gave me a gift certificate for a massage. I save things like that for a "special occasion" which usually means I save it and save it until it's about to expire and then have to rush to get in time. Worried that it would expire, he told me to book it for last night, since he had the night off. I left to meet him and switch cars (and hand off the kids) in a total blizzard. I barely made it out of our neighborhood. I called him to say I wasn't sure this was a good idea, but he said the roads were barely even wet where he was, and it was probably just bad on the benches. So we made the switch, and off I went. The roads were fine, the weather was ominous, but not bad, until I was about half-way there. (The place was downtown.) Suddenly, from one second to the next, I was driving in a near white-out, on a freeway that had suddenly turned into an ice-rink with half a foot of snow on the ground. Surrounded by semi's with no visible lane-lines and crazy drivers who were going too fast and spinning out of control, I clutched my steering wheel with white-knuckles and kept on going. It was pointless to turn back now, right? Needless to say, I was late. So instead of being nice about it (HELLOOO, I came to you during the snowpacolypse rather than cancelling!), they cut my massage short. And I had a male masseuse for the first time ever. He was a little... different. I figured since it was going to be short, I'd try to get the most out of it that I could, and had him do fairly firm pressure. (As in, I was clenching my jaw and holding my breath to not cry out in pain at times. I have a very tight/knotted back.) This was a mistake, as it turns out. Because today? I feel like my entire back got beat with a sledgehammer. So rather than helping me stand up straighter, I can barely handle lifting my daughter. #epicfail


3. Many of you have probably seen me tweeting/FBing about my "Problem Child." This is what I'm (semi) lovingly calling my new WIP. I'm a fast drafter. It's just how I write. Usually. This book? Not so much. This book is trying to kill me. I have moments where I think I'm prevailing, where I feel like I'm figuring it out and whipping it into line. And then my characters and this plot just laugh and laugh at me when I'm floundering five minutes later, totally frustrated and lost yet again. Does this mean I'm on the brink of brilliance--or the cusp of utter and total failure? Maybe somewhere in the middle. I hope.

4. So recently I've been thinking a lot about social media, and the negative effects it has in life. We are SO interconnected now; I don't think it's necessarily a good thing to see every picture and hear every detail of each other's lives. It can lead to moments of jealousy or feelings of inadequacy or being left out or a myriad of other negative emotions. Or at least it does for me sometimes. Maybe I'm just insecure like that and that doesn't happen to anyone else. But there are also moments when social media can be absolutely incredible, and SO helpful. Like when I tweeted about #ProblemChild and how it wanted to be set in a place I know nothing about... and one of my amazing friends/followers tweeted back and when I told her about it said, "It sounds like it wants to be set near where I live!" SCORE! Her help has been invaluable. So the point is that I'm torn in my feelings toward FB and Twitter. I guess that's how most things in life are though, there are always good and bad sides to most everything.

Wow, these were all so long, let's just call it quits at 4, shall we? So that's a glimpse of what's on my mind on this snowy cold Friday morning. How about you?