I Can Essure You

I haven't had my Mac for almost two months.  It quit working, so we had to take it to the Computer Geek Posse or whatever.
I am POSITIVE it had nothing to do with the wine I spilled on the keyboard a few years ago. NOTHING.
I didn't notice any notes in the repair ticket:  "Mother Board smells like Mediterranean white."
Nope, must have been something different altogether.
In any case, I am back in the blogging business, ready to spill my guts, and do I have NEWS FOR YOU.
Ernesto is moving.
Yes, that's right,  my vodka infused muse is in foreclosure. Now who am I going to write about? I mean, believe me, there are A LOT of people I'd like to write about, but I have to see them more than once a year...so I am on the look out for a new subject.  But let's face it, there will never be another Ernesto.

Maren Vada is now 2, even though she has been acting 2 since she was 1.  1 was the new 2.  2 is the new 14.  I have never met a smarter,  braver, "gorgeous-er", "I need a nap because she is wearing me out" girl.  I love her with my whole heart and soul.

Keegan Michael's Harry Potter party was a complete and total success. At swimming lessons each week for a month afterward he kept sharing that he'd had a Harry Potter birthday party. It was just THAT great of a party, I guess.  I was a little nervous that the swim instructor thought Keegan had memory loss....but he never spoke to me about it...In week two of the "I am going to stay home with my kids, and be a real mom" project, he has only bugged his sister 5500 times. And he taught her to sing Pee Pee Pants over and over while proclaiming indignantly that he has no idea where she could have learned it.
"I heard you whisper it to her, Keegan."
"That wasn't me."  Oh good Lord. I love him. I love him. I love him.

The school year is over and I am not looking back.  In fact I can barely remember the school year at this point.
I have a tendency to black out events I don't want to re-live, you know.  I don't remember much from age 25 to 32 either. It's just my survival mechanism.
Oh there were some really great moments this year; I don't mean to make it sound like I didn't have fun. But there were a whole lot of "turn the head" moments too.
Because as you should know:  if you turn the head, you don't have to see or hear what you don't want. Works every time.

My darling husband, Will, is addicted to...... koi.  I have released three new fish to the pond in the last day alone.  The Fed Ex man just keeps shaking his head at me as he hands me boxes with: This End Up! Live animals! stamped on the side.
"Look, it could be a lot worse addiction," I defended after his third trip to our doorstep.
"Sure lady, whatever you say."
I cannot be positive I heard "Fish Freak" as he walked away, but what does he care?
It's not his problem. I'm the one married to the Koi King.

And last but oh no, certainly not least...
If you want to get pregnant, I highly recommend having the Essure procedure done.
"The most effective permanent sterilization procedure on the market."
Because it doesn't work for shit.
I should know.  I am pregnant.
Will thinks it's his super sperm, or that "Dr. Doolittle screwed up! I just know it! He didn't put those coils in right!"
I think secretly I was just hoping for another sober stint.  (Yeah, right.) Or I just really missed writing about Dr. Doolittle. Maybe he's my new Ernesto!

In any case, we are expecting #3.   And boy do I have a lot to write about on that subject.
So welcome back all you loyal readers. (All two of you.) And join me on this next fun-filled adventure!
Yee Ha!