Tuesday. What happened?
Sad. Sad excuse for a blogger.
Sooooo. I’m in Arizona. Yesterday was spent enjoying the terror miracle that is human flight. And trying to keep Ella quiet on the plane. Which meant basically non-stop nursing and essentially showing every person on the flight my entire bare tit.
You’re welcome travelers.
And arriving at our hotel luxurious resort. It’s awful.
(It’s A-mazing.)
Wish you were here to enjoy this:
And this:
But not so much this:
Or this:
And definitely not this:
That guy grabbed a hold of my leg during my hike this morning. Ouch. Note to self: 90 degrees or not… shorts and cacti = bad idea.
Anyway, this place is, well, it’s FANTASTIC. It’s in Scottsdale, which I believe is widely known to be the ritzy part of Arizona. Point made Scottsdale. Two Bentleys was enough to convince me. Thank you very much. Now before you think I’m RICH (cause I’m SOOOOO NOT rich.) I am here because my husband has a tech conference. He works for a little teeny company that you may or may not have heard of. (If you’re American and haven’t heard of it, you might want to just go ahead and admit you are the most out of touch person. Ever. If you’re from another country, I’ll give you a pass, but not if you’re from India, Asia or Europe. NO excuse. Sign up now.) So eBay (who owns Paypal) is footing the bill for the room (but not the room service or the massage I’m not getting because it costs a zillion dollars). We bought my plane ticket and a rental car so I could see my sister who also lives here and not be away from the man I love for yet another week. It’s working out nicely. The Big Kids are enjoying the first part of spring break skiing with their grandparents (well acutally MY grandparents, so their great grandparents, but you get what I mean.)
Last night my sister and Ella and I went out for dinner and a stroll around. It worked out ok. Until Ella started screaming bloody murder in the car like she was being tortured with a thousand tiny needles.
This is my baby. My sister who is like my baby. And a big ass cactus. Ella looks like she loves Arizona so far.
Yeah. Not a fan of the car.
We have a lovely room and a big city at our feet and periodically the Man shows up with a snack he has leftover (most recently some CAKE.) Ella and I went to an AWESOME yarn store called Knit Happens.
See:
I mean I didn’t actually BUY any of that yarn because the first skein I picked up was $31.50 and after I picked myself up off the floor and checked myself for a concussion I could only manage to find one ball of eco cotton for $8.50 which is still too much but frankly I felt bad for the puddle of urine I left on their floor when I peed my pants…. so I bought it. And a pair of size 3 needles. And then I RAN OUT. Before I got into real trouble.
Also I went to Forever 21:
It was in a fancy schmany mall that had things like Barneys and a hamburger place that charged $10 for a burger. WITHOUT FRIES.
Is it really necessary for a hamburger place to have a chandelier?
Apparently.
This was a fancy mall. There was a place for dude to get a SHAVE. On their FACE. A whole place dedicated to shaving a guys face. I’m clearly way out of my shopping league.
Anyway. I went ot F21 because I thought to myself, “Self, F21 is the same EVERYWHERE. You can tots afford it.”
Forever 21. Not the same everywhere. Not. At. All.
Moving on.
After that sad, sad experience (let’s face it people, I’m not 21) I went thrifting. Yay.
I scored three books for me (not pictured), three for my boys (two Hardy Boys. YES.) and eight for Ella. EIGHT. They were buy 4 get 1 free and all $.99. Also two fun and funky shirts and a dress for Ella. For like $21. No shit dude. I could have done more damage but honestly I was ti-red. So more of that tomorrow. This was from a place called Savers. Tomorrow a kids spot called Hissyfits is in the line up also Goodwill and the Salvation Army. There are some sweet places in downtown Phoenix I hear so I’ll check those out.
Here’s Miss Lady relaxing in the room (with one of her new thrifted books):
Oh and your truly. Moi.
And now… there is a pool. And it’s beckoning to me, “Joooooonnnniiiiii squueze your oversized caboose into a swimsuit and get out here. (But please fortheloveofgod wear a coverup.)”
Ok pool. Ok. I’m on it.
And I’ll see y’all on the flip side yo.
j
iphone photo monday , Raegan , thrifting , travel
Slacky Mc Slackerton
That’s me.
I have a good reason.
No, really.
I was sick.
Well, first my eldest daughter was sick. Then I was sick. Then the other big kids were sick. Then of course Ella was sick. The, after he thought he was going to escape it, the Hubs got sick too. I think we’ve sufficiently covered our bases now. Thank you. Oh wait, did the dog get sick? OK she’s next. Then we’re done.
Amidst all the business of being sick my Sister came. Yep, Sister. Capital S. Even though she’s my little sister (by 14 years no less), she’s HUGE to me. I haven’t blogged much about my sister but you’ll hear about her. A. Because she’s like one of my children (for a variety of reasons I won’t go into now) and B. She’s A-mazing. Like really. Anyway she’s in grad school right now which means she has time to study and occasionally pee and get food, so I haven’t seen her since two weeks before Ella’s arrival, which might be close to the longest we’ve ever been apart. So she met Ella and it went as suspected… Smashingly. (As an aside: Why don’t more people use the term smashingly? Fantastic. I’m using it.) There is little that pleases me more than having all my lovelies in one place together. If she had come with godiva I might have fallen over dead. On the spot.
Since she arrived two important things have happened.
1. Ella slept on her for like a hundred hours. This gave me the opportunity to bake cookies, bake rolls, make fried chicken, fold laundry. Wow. I should have gotten a massage.
2. She figured out how to get Ella’s stroller open. I confess. I went to school for several years to learn how to care for the afflicted but I haven’t the first idea how to open Ella’s stroller (nor do I care since I carry her everywhere). Raegan figured it out.
She only smashed her hand once.
As a result of her arrival I haven’t even been thinking about blogging or anything else other than talking to her like we do (and blowing my nose).
My apologies.
Not really.
I mean could I miss this?
Or this?
No. Way.
And while I’m talking about having my loves together and how happy it makes me, let me take a turn to serious town. I have lots of photographs of myself over the years. Well not lots exactly, but enough to document my presence. I typically don’t like the way I look in photos. Do any women? I’ll find something wrong. For example: I look fat. My skin looks bad. My right eye is smaller than my left eye (it’s totally true). I look fat. Or.. I look too skinny (Yes. I had that phase too. We’ll talk about that another day). Or whatever. I’m my worst critic as they say. It’s pathetic. No really. Stop criticizing yourselves ladies. Monumental waster of time. Anyway, I digress.
But recently something strange has happened. Suddenly, and by suddenly I mean like WHAMMO, I see someone different looking back at me. Oh sure I can still find flaw (I’ll spare you that detail). But all of sudden my wrinkles look sweet to me because they mean I laugh. My face appears eased because my stresses pale compared to my joys. My smile genuine because I have so much to smile about. My body relaxed because it is. I might be imagining it but I’ve heard it from other people too. So, probably not.
“You look so happy.”
Why yes. Yes, I do.
There has been a change in me in the last year and a half and even in the last 2 months that I recognize and that others can see. I’m still the same Joni under those wrinkles. I’m just a better version of myself. It’s being a happy and loving wife and mother and a thoughtful and intelligent nurse. It’s being at peace. I like what I see when I look at me.
That is all.
Sister is visiting the other family that’s not me. (What? We have other family? Hmph.) Big kids are with their dad from this evening through Wednesday. And finally after a weekend of sneezes and coughs I’ve got time to re-tidy the house, scrub toilets, wash all the clothes and spend some time being otherwise crafty and housewife-ly. But what I’d really like is for everyone to just come back home.
So we can laugh. And cry. And destroy the house. And I can make some more wrinkles.
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