My Heart: Act II

Friends,

It's been a long time since I've written because I haven't had the words to say. You see, last September my heart broke. In all honesty it was breaking beforehand, but as I understood it the whole fracture took place in a day. A hammer on stained glass. Scissors to a quilt. 

I thought afterwards that my heart must have stopped beating, and reflecting in the passing days I wondered how it could not have. It was a miracle. 

Lest you worry, physically I was fine. The boys were fine. Even J-Man was fine. I guess.

I don't really know how to discuss heartbreak here because there are always two sides, and if you're reading this I can only guarantee you mine. And I don't guarantee much of that because it's still my story, to be shared if and when I'm ready. It's my truth. It's a day that, however, did not manage to stop my heart.

In the months since then, my heart has proven time and again that it beats on. It races when I consider where to move or if that's right for me. Or for the kids. It races more when I think of starting at a new school and what changes that could bring. Or resentment. But then I hold my two sweet boys and wrap myself in the world of loving them. Cleaning nosebleeds and blowing bubbles and dancing to the music we choose. 

Of course, it speeds up again when I have to answer their tough questions about our family being forever. I tell them that their dad and I will love them more than anyone else, like we always have, and that our love is forever. In that way we will always be a family. 

It physically aches when they request the story of the prince and the princess. The one where the main characters both have castles in Harlem and meet at teaching school and get engaged in Central Park and give each other rings in front of friends and family to say they'll live happily ever after with their two little princes. PDG's timing on requesting that story is impeccably ironic. And also gut-wrenching.

The thing is, we changed part of the story. And then I changed how I tell the story. It used to be that was the end of it all. Now the two promise to love the princes forever, but one day decide to live in separate houses. I didn't think I could change it, and yet I did. 

I realized during one telling that just because the ending changed, it didn't actually alter anything else. The story is still full of happiness. The story is an outgoing, smart, and goofy guy falling for a polar opposite girl, and the two making a life together.

Of course I know that years from now I'll reread this entry and think of all I don't know yet. By then I'll know if I moved and where. If I got a different job in this school district. I'll know if someone else found me lovable, and if I learned to trust again enough to accept it. If I figured out how not to judge myself based on someone else's adoration. I'll know the myriad things I cannot even fathom that I don't know now.

I do know this, as I will in the future, my heart will keep beating. In eight months it has beat through a separation, a reconciliation, a #divorcemoon and yet another separation. It keeps going. And if I doubt that, I will channel the characters of my book, turn up some Ingrid Michaelson, and sing along with both MDG and PDG that "all the broken hearts in the world still beat." 

I'll keep doing the things I love. I'll write about the topics that hurt and scare me - both here and in my stories. I'll cry at times, but I'll smile more. I'll make new memories, adding more chapters to the story of my life. My heart will step into act II. 

So, here goes. Welcome to the journey.

Silly Cakes

PDG and MDG both love to play on J-Man's and my phones. Maybe we shouldn't let them? I don't know. Regardless, they do. They used to love to scroll through photos of themselves. Then they moved on to some toddler apps that teach colors and numbers and the stuff that you're not supposed to expect a device to teach them, but in reality what can a little screen-reinforcement hurt on the topic? Sometimes they make their way to Netflix for some Daniel Tiger, Super Why, Chuggington or even occasionally the short-lived and intense Russian series Masha's Tales.

And also, as I've probably mentioned before, they love youtube. The thing about youtube is it remembers what you've watched before, and gives you suggestions. If, heaven forbid, I've watched a grown-up video (don't think badly of me here, I'm talking the soundtrack to Last Five Years, or the video for Bieber's Love Yourself or anything else that doesn't feature puppets or nursery rhymes) the boys get upset wanting to know where their videos are and insisting I get back to those bright and animated suggestions.

But once the suggestions pop up, especially when MDG takes the lead, it's a rapid fire roulette of clips. One video leads to another, to another, often with none of them being finished, until they land on either a) something they love or b) something they've explicitly been told to avoid. Again, don't go to bad places with this. I'm talking videos of people opening toys or eggs and showing how they work. Somewhere in the world millions of children or adults are watching these videos, but they are strictly prohibited in the G household. Want to know how toys work? Go play with any of the ones currently sitting stagnant in either of the giant toyboxes we own.

So, anyway, one day the boys got really quiet - never a good sign - and when J-Man and I realized they were watching what must've been an off limits video, we checked it out. Sure enough, it was someone explaining how something worked. Only the product wasn't in English packaging. And it wasn't a toy. It was Japanese gummy sushi candies. PDG explained that they were silly cakes, and the name stuck.

Also, surprise surprise, J-Man decided he had to get his hands on this treat. He went to the always trustworthy Amazon, ordered some silly cakes from Japan, and we waited the weeks for them to arrive.

They were a success. The boys loved them. It was daddy son bonding time. And apparently they taste good to grown-ups too. Plus, with the magic of youtube, we knew we could find videos in English of how the whole thing works.

Since then we've ordered them twice more, and the boys love making silly cakes with daddy. There's measuring and mixing and near chem-lab precision, and in the end, a tiny tasty treat. Highly recommended.

And, for my one Texas friend who will have any idea what I'm talking about, making these is like mashing together memories of our Thursdays in NYC at Wasabi Lobby and that Tasti D-Lite with all the gummies by the pound. Now all we need is a way to incorporate Grey's Anatomy and its decline into whine central...

Signs I'm Getting Old(er)

1. I put in my leave request this week for my upcoming tenth college reunion. Tenth!

2. My impulse buy at the grocery store was brie and water crackers.

3. I celebrated my thirty-second birthday.

4. I didn't care much about eating cake on my birthday. Although I still did.

5. My back hurts enough these days for me to request a massage as a present.

6. I fell asleep around 8pm on my birthday and felt no shame whatsoever. I was tired.

7. The early morning and late evening commute radio stations play throwback jams that now match my middle and high school years. Not my older siblings'. Not my parents'. The nineties are nothing but serious nostalgia now.

8. I spent the Saturday between Mother's Day and my birthday home alone, avoiding Chuck E. Cheese with its bright lights and terrible pizza and overwhelming noise like the plague.

9. While avoiding the big C.E.C. reward adventure (30 bedtime stickers for PDG!!), I instead took pleasure in catching up on laundry. Pleasure!

10. Did I mention already falling asleep at 8pm? Or is this early memory loss? And am I talking to myself now? Eek, this aging thing is scary!

...

But in reality, I know I'm young. I have another year full of many great memories in the bank, and plenty of reason to look forward to all that being 32 entails. Bring it on!

Paint Night

Rather than catch up on all of the last month, let me just start with last night. I went to my first painting party.

My Work BFF Sra K was celebrating her fiftieth birthday, and despite the fact that I don't drink wine and my painting experience for the last two decades has been limited to wall primer and theatrical sets, I decided I was going to have fun. So I went, and I did.

It started simple enough, her feeding us tons of delicious food in that way that people who show love through giving and cooking excel at, and some uncomfortable mingling on my part. It shouldn't have been awkward, what with it being mostly coworkers and other great people that my equally great friend likes, but my introvert half kicks in when the threshold of six or so people gets crossed. This party had forty-five painters-in-training all ready to celebrate Sra K and get our artistry on.

 We began with a blank canvas. Obviously. And I'm going to spare you the many metaphors I could describe about potential and fresh starts and endless possibilities. It was a blank canvas and hung in front of us was the desired finish product - Birds on a Fence.

Our artist teacher took us step by step from easy - the turquoise sky, streaks encouraged - to the impossibly difficult - birds I never even attempted. Let's just say mine ended up being renamed to simply Fence.

I sat between two other language teachers and self-proclaimed non-artists, and we enjoyed making fun of our failures and frequently asking each other "what are we doing now?" and "do you really think he has the same brushes as us?" with the occasional "wow, yours looks way better than mine."

It was all quite intense and yet completely ridiculous because no one's, and I mean no one's, looked as good as his. Even if they did all shine in their own way. Get the pun?

In the end I decided I liked it though. And it makes me think of the song I sing my boys almost every night these days. (They're over "Twinkle Twinkle" and the backwards ABC's and are back to the Bye Bye Birdie ripoff "I love you PDG, oh yes I do..." and "You Are My Sunshine"). So when I presented it to the boys, I told them it was so that whenever they look at it they know the lyrics are true. They really are my sunshines, and they'll never know how much I love them both.

I mean, aren't they cute? And big? And full of energy and light?

What Does a G Say?

This summer I spent a kid-free church meeting jotting down the random things my boys were saying back in July in the hopes of returning to blogging. Obviously I didn't do anything with the scribbled-on program. I think it's tucked away in one of my story notebooks or jammed between couch cushions along with a few spare raisins, some crushed goldfish and probably a rainbow of peeled-off crayon wrappers.

If I ever find it, I'll write it up and add a hyperlink here.

In the meantime, now that it's November, here are some soundbites a fly on our wall might encounter. Or more likely a spider. It is fall after all.

A-town Fair 2015

"Where are my paaaaaants?"
"Darn, darnety darn, darn, darn!"
"Everything is awesome..."
(can you tell PDG's been obsessively watching the Lego Movie???)

one particular bedtime the day after daylight savings, once the door was shut:
PDG: "Waaaahhhh" (crash, boom, sounds of flailing and overtired limbs)
MDG: "PDG, stop! PDG, no!"
PDG: "I don't wanna stop! I want another song. I want another song!!!"
MDG: "Mommmmmm-myyyyyy"
PDG: "She can't hear you, MDG. (pause) Let's try it together. Mommy!!!"
MDG: "Mommmmmm-myyyyyyy."
repeat for a good long while...

"Um, excuse me, what did you say?" - PDG inserting himself into any conversation

"MDG, what color is this?" (any person pointing at any thing that is any color)
"Geen!"

Who says this is PDG's bike?

"Anything can happen, anything can happen, anything can happen" - PDG channeling Ellie Goulding

"It's a hard knock life, for me"
"Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow..."
(there's been some Annie watching too. the 2014 black version. jury's still out...)

"What song do you want?"
"ABC's"
"A-B-C-D..."
"No, backwards!"
(J-Man, turning to face the door) "A-B-C-D..."
"Not that way! Like Mommy"
(Me, wishing I'd never shared my secret talent) "Z-Y-X-W-V-and-U..."

A few MDG frequent orders:
"Mommy, wait!"
"Mommy, come!"
"Mommy, stop!"
"Pees." (please)
"Mommy, carry you." (aka will you carry me?)
"Self!" (aka I can do this myself, yo - what do you think I am, a baby?!"

"I have a headache" - J-Man
"My back hurts" - me
"We're getting old..." - both of us

....
Yes, the photos are from August. Better late than never.

Those Perfect Pumpkin Pictures

Now that I’m blogging again, I’ve been thinking about mom guilt. If you don’t have mom guilt, you’re either a) not a mom or b) way more evolved than I am. In either case, we are on totally different wavelengths because mom guilt and I battle it out all the time.

Sometimes, the battle is simple. For example: I know too much screen time is bad. I also know that there are few tears in my house that free reign of youtube doesn’t solve. I push the guilt aside and swear that I don’t give in too, too much. Then I pass my phone along and adjust to endless Wheels on the Bus or, worse, the Gummy Bear song. I’m proud to say I also draw the line when PDG starts watching those ridiculous videos of people unwrapping toys to show how they work. How does he keep finding  those?! Or the ones with kinder eggs?!? The internet is weird.

Anyway.

My recent battle should be straightforward too. It’s the whole insta-mom thing. Like, if I’m being honest, I’m a bad mom instagrammer. My boys do so many cute things. More cute things than any other mom’s boys because they’re my boys and that’s how motherhood works. But somehow, on Instagram and Facebook, and the other social media websites I’m too dusty to figure out yet (I hear dusty is a word the kids say these days about us old folks) other moms are totally winning. At the pumpkin patch, their kids actually sit by a pumpkin and smile while looking at the camera, showing teeth, and twinkling their eyes. Mine? Well, here’s the best I got.

Not horrible, I know, but we were there for hours. We did a billion slides. We rode a hayride (ok, in fairness, I almost lost my phone in the hay and PDG did spend the first few minutes crying in fear so pictures were low on the agenda). We got to pet animals and run free with our best friends. We picked out pumpkins for the family. I should have a whole album edited in the perfect filters, right?

Well, I think I'm failing. I feel a little guilty, and the only thing making me feel better is that hey, at least these couple pictures I did happen to capture can now be forever commemorated on this website. Because I will keep writing. I will.

You know how I know? PDG asked for “Welcome to New York” yesterday morning in the car. It was (embarrassingly enough) the music I was jamming to when I was writing my story last spring and once again got me itching to type away. So while I need a better muse than T-Swizz, I’m back in this blogging thing for the long haul. And if I can wrap my brain around it, I’m going to be ok with the few imperfect shots I do manage to take of my boys along the way.  

from a few weeks ago

PDG Turns Three

Who told this guy he could grow up? Was it you? Is that what you've been doing while I've been buried by repeat snow storms and other writing projects instead of blogging?

Totally not fair.

Regardless, he's three years old now, and would probably like me to tell you a few fun facts.

 Likes:

• counting to 15 correctly and then randomly calling out any other numbers he knows in no particular order. this sometimes starts at 11 or 12 instead
• meat. all meats
• brushing his teeth by himself with the blue bubble gum toothpaste that he swallows before attempting to spit out
• teaching his little brother how to do things - particularly with electronics
• going potty (we did it guys!)
• being outside
• snow, if he has gloves on
• did I say meats?
• jelly beans, thin mints, jerky and everything else we bribed him with during his two month potty training marathon
• singing J-Man's rap songs on cue, and sometimes making up his own nonsense lyrics instead
• Taylor Swift's 1989 album (my bad...)
• turning the deadbolt and opening the door when J-Man gets home from work
• splashing in the bathtub
• bananas and milk before or daily trip to Miss S's daycare
• blanket forts and the baby burrito game in the mexiblanket
• berries
• putting on his own clothes (success rate aside)
• The Jungle Book, Cars, Dumbo, Super Why and Frozen
• echoes
• grocery carts with the mini-cars attached to the front

 Dislikes:

• The big light at 5:25am 
• Everything else that happens from 5:25-5:55am before his banana and milk
• being told to wait before eating something in sight and/or within reach
• naptime
• listening to NPR, aka news, instead of Frozen or Taylor Swift
• taking his shoes off because we aren't going back outside that day
• when MDG steals his toys and runs the other direction

Growing Stats:

• 4T clothes and size 10 shoes
• 37lbs (93%)
• 40in (95%)

Happy Birthday Little Big Man. Mama loves you to the moon and back

Miss L's California Wedding Weekend

I've told you all about how much I love weddings, right? I mean, every time I go to one I record it here. First of all, I usually dress up and try to look pretty for weddings, so I'm more likely to take pictures. Like this one here - I even wore makeup! When's the last time I took a picture without a child on my hip?!

This wedding was fantastic.  Really.  Yes, it was terrible being away from all three of my darling boys from Thursday night until practically Monday morning, but I found that whole saying about absence making the heart grow fonder to be true.  That, and I might've been distracted by the beautiful beaches.

So who got married?  Why Miss L - a longtime friend from high school.  Like too many friends, we seem to have missed living in the same city, as she moved west only a few months after I got to her former city. I sadly didn't get any good photos of the bride at the wedding - a mistake I make almost every time I attend one - but can tell you that she was stunning. Just trust me.

I got in a day early to make the most of this solo trip.  I got to sleep in until 4:30am (which is kinda sleeping in when you factor in the time difference) and then play around M&N's new apartment in San Fran.  I watched multiple episodes of a terrible ABC family show about a foster kid and her teen drama while M&N worked half day and packed.

The road trip was longer than I expected, but luckily these gals also love NPR and musical soundtracks so we were set.  That and N introduced me to Mary Lambert's Secrets which became the official background track of the weekend.

We stayed in an adorable cottage just minutes away from a beautiful California beach. All beaches are beautiful I guess, but the fact that my feet weren't burning in the sand, while my hair got to blow in the wind made it a little surreal in its beauty. We frolicked around with Miss F, all taking a billion photos, until it was finally time to get gussied up for the main event.

Miss L works for Google, so we were shuttled to the venue in fancy Google buses, then escorted up the golf course in chauffered golf carts. The scenery was breathtaking and the ceremony matched their personalities brilliantly.  I missed having someone's leg to squeeze during the serious moments, but it didn't keep me from getting all teary reflecting on my own vows from not that long ago.

Unsurprisingly the meal was delicious, the dancing long-lasting, and the details carefully attended for the rest of the evening.  Yes, we ate a lot of pie, sat cozy around woodfires, danced barefoot, and took silly photos with inside-joke hashtags.

Overall it was an amazing weekend with a beautiful reason to celebrate. And after it all, what a great week it's been to be back cuddling all my boys.

If PDG Made a Mixtape

We're all caught up on MDG, but what about big brother you ask?

Well, PDG chats up a storm these days, with the majority of his full sentences being short commands. You know - "Mommy, get up now," or "Stop it, Daddy. No singing." It's both cute and oppressive at once. When ignored, he'll eventually soften his voice and add a please to the end. Not quite a question, but gentler request nonetheless.

Along with all the talking has come an ability to express himself through song, and to state "I like it" to affirm his favorites when he hears them. So, based on what he requests at bedtime and naptime, what he is later caught singing to himself, and what makes him clap his hands and say "yay!" I have compiled this list of PDG's top hits.

(Also, the pictures at the bottom are from a recent trip to National Harbor. They didn't quite warrant a post of their own, but I liked them. So, yeah.)

In no particular order...

The ABC's - careful with this one.  We use it to brush teeth and have changed the last line to "now we're done brushing PDG's teeth." If you sing the original, expect a blank stare, possibly inherited from his mother's bag-o-looks.

You Are My Sunshine - shortened to "Sunshine" and sung on repeat with "sunshine" being replaced by MDG and PDG's names to keep it fresh.

I Love to See the Temple - the best is when he requests for J-Man to sing this children's song from church. Talk about freestylin' lyrics...

Popcorn Popping - Another church one, though requested less now that spring is behind us and there are less blossoms to inspire it.

Let it Go - Come on, you didn't think I could not buy the Frozen soundtrack and play it on repeat did you?

No Flex Zone - As I type this PDG is singing to himself, with all the right emphasis, "No flex... zone! No flex... zone! They knoooow better." Operation raise-kids-loving-rap-and-musical-soundtracks is going well so far.

Anything Katy Perry - Don't judge.

And lastly, Dynomite - Because what two year old doesn't want to throw his hands in the air and say "ay-o, baby let's go"?

Having fun, I swear

See that Ferris Wheel? PDG has asked to go on it again almost every day since - a solid two weeks

A great day with my boys, up in the air. And a real smile from PDG. 

Distant Memories

Recently J-Man and I were watching some sitcom that mentioned Elliot Smith music and I had an instant flashback to sophomore year of college - not my brightest hour.  J-Man had no idea who Elliot Smith was, and I informed him that I used to listen to Say Yes, amongst other slow, sad melodies, on repeat during that angsty, dramatic time.  I brushed over the confusion that was college for me, giving only the details necessary to the story this time, and played the song for him.

He wasn't really feeling it.

Maybe because it was from a sad part in my life?  More likely because that's not really his style of music.  He is, after all, a gangsta.

So we then listened to a song I knew he had listened to in his own confusing days, which actually had a hook and rap and a beat.  Maybe I would've been cooler if that had been my depressed music?

I looked at him and told him how I'm so glad to have him, and I wish I had known he existed back when I let my emotions get screwed up by losers.  The conversation got quiet for a moment.  We thought back to our private darker moments.  The ones we brush off now because thank goodness they feel like light years away, but the same ones that once felt crushing and all-encompassing and impossible to overcome at the time.

The first night J-Man and I began the transition from neighbors to maybe-more-than-friends was a summer night at his apartment.  After a general gathering of the teacher folks, everyone else left to go enjoy bars that don't close until 4am.  He and I stayed behind, just talking. 

Talking, I swear.

Before I knew it I was telling him things I don't tell people.  The experiences most of us have in some form or another that just aren't pleasant dinner conversation.  The insecurities and secrets that make us who we are, even if 99.9% of the world never hear about them. 

I shared mine and he shared his.

He told me I was strong, a word I've cherished from him for five years now, and a part of my jaded heart began to melt a little.

We watched The Graduate with my head on his lap and him patting my hair the wrong direction.  We held hands.  We stayed awake until 6am.  Without a single kiss we became intimate in the deepest way.

Since that night we sometimes return to conversations about the darker hours of our lives.  We talk about how we've been shaped by them, and how we connected as a couple because of them.  We discuss how most of our closest friends have shared some degree of their personal pains with us too, and how, for better or worse, that is a part of how we've become friends.  There is a bond in shared pain, even in the past.

Sometimes we've talked about our hypothetical children, before these last few weeks where there's been a real child to discuss, and how we will survive knowing they will experience pain.  How someone will one day hurt them, break their hearts, or their bodies, or they will hurt their own.  How they may have days or weeks or years that they look in the mirror and, for whatever reason, hate what they see.  How we may accidentally feed into some aspect of that.

We wonder if we'll be able to remember that so long as they survive, and are strong, and surround themselves with the kinds of people we surrounded ourselves with, then they'll find intimate bonds of friendship and love because of it. 

I hope I'll remember that.  Almost as much as I hope they don't feel any such pain.  But knowing what I know about life and coming of age now, I mostly hope that they'll find a point where anything horrible becomes a distant memory, and life is full of hope and faith and laughter. That tomorrows are more compelling than yesterdays and friendships stronger than fears.  And the crappy music they may listen to at first will no longer bring them to tears, and instead make them smile and wish they'd been more of a G all along.

Staying with You

J-Man and I went to a wedding last weekend.

First, I love weddings.  I really, really do.  They make me feel warm and fuzzy inside.  They make me squeeze J-Man's leg, right above the knee-bone, and smile at him.  They make me trace an I and a heart and a U on his thigh and wait for him to look at me and say "on the west side?" They make me think about how every couple has inside jokes like that and how love is so universal and yet so unique between individual people. 

Weddings make me wear heels, which make me hold tight to J-Man's elbow while he escorts me places.  They make me dance the Cupid Shuffle and forget about how Papa H and Big Sis tease me for having missed out on the all-important black dancing gene, whenever I try the electric slide.

Weddings make me wrap my arms around J-Man's neck and sway to the cheesy love songs and let everything else fade away

This wedding was a little tougher, what with it starting 45 minutes late and including a cocktail hour in which we could only look at, but not partake of, the cocktails and sodas displayed.  That, and the lack of appetizers or bread, enough to make me want to fake diabetes just to get some crackers.  J-Man and I did slip into the exhibits to look at sniper rifles and tanks and replicas of 'winter on the front,' which, had we come to the National Museum of the Marine Corps for any other reason, would have been fascinating. 

Still, as the bride and groom entered as husband and wife to the beat of Nicki Minaj Moment 4 Life and immediately transitioned into the tune of Randy Travis Forever and Ever Amen for the first dance, I could feel it.

I remembered J-Man's and my song - Stay with You.  I used to sing the lyrics to him in my not so melodical voice, both before and after our big day.  It's been accepted that I love our song more than he does, but he loves it because I love it, and I love it because of the memories it jogs.

The first time I heard it I was on the 4 train heading home from classes at Lehman.  I was exhausted from another day in the life of a NYC teacher and further frustrated by spending a night at an institution determined to make everything more difficult for the teachers trying our best to serve our own students.  I had at least an hour of lesson planning ahead of me, crazy subway folks all around me, and I was on one of the grimy, old-school trains, with the orange and yellow seats.  I remember that my playlist was on random and I arrived at a song from an entire album brother-in-law had let me borrow.  I must've heard the song before, but maybe I'd just never listened?

I heard the words

Though relationships can get old
They have the tendency to grow cold
We have something like a miracle
Yeah, and I'll stay with you

and I thought, you know what, this is a miracle.  My J-Man is my own private miracle. 

I don't know how many times I replayed that song through the spring and summer leading up to the big day.  And goodness knows how many times afterward, 3000 miles from home, from where we first met, from where the entirety of my life had been lived.  I'd turn it on when I would clean our Washington state apartment and think "how did I get all the way out here?" 

Now we're back, and we're making friends in our new east coast life.  We're facing struggles in the "miracle" department in other ways.  But every time I see a first dance, no matter how crazy the rest of the wedding might be, I'll always kiss my J-Man's shaved cheek and remind him I want to stay with him.

Lazy Song

I have a new weekend anthem and it comes from an adorable little package called Bruno Mars.

Despite having a wildly social weekend by recent standards (more posts likely to follow), we all know my favorite moments are still weekend naps.  The kind that leave you wondering what day it is when you wake up.  And make you smile because you still have more weekend ahead of you.  And are induced by too many pancakes and eggs.

Now, I'm no lyricist, but if I had a chance to adapt this song to really be Nicole the G's weekend anthem, I think it would go like this.

Today I don't feel like doing anything
I just want to take three good naps
Don't feel like answering my phone
So text instead when you hear the tone
'Cause today I swear I'm not doing anything

I'm gonna unbutton my jeans
Then curl up with J-Man
Turn Wii Netflix on
Snuggle up real grand
Nobody's gonna tell me I can't

I'll be dozing to a drama, forensics, justice, crime
Click to the CW for a teeny bopper find
Cause in my apartment I rule the land
Oh Oh

Yes I said it
I said it
I said it 'cause I can

Today I don't feel like doing anything
I just want to catch up on sleep
Don't feel like shopping at the mall
So go ahead and skip that call
'Cause today I swear I'm not doing anything
 Nothin' at all

Woo Hoo Ooh
Woo Hoo Ooh Ooooh Ooh Ooh
Nothin' At All
Woo Hoo Ooh
Woo Hoo Ooh Ooooh Ooh Ooh

Tomorrow I'll wake up, make the calls I hate making
Cuddle with my J-Man and cook him up some bacon
He's gonna scream out "This is great!" (I love pork! This is great!)

Yeah

We might hit the gym, try to raise our chill heartbeats
I bet then my doctor would be so proud of me

But nah that chick will just have to wait
Oh Oh

Yes I Said It
I Said It
I Said It 'Cause I Can

Today I don't feel like doing anything
I just want to dream some good dreams
Don't feel like stepping foot outside
So sunshine, go on, pass me by
'Cause today I swear I'm not doing anything


No I ain't gonna brush my hair
'Cause I ain't goin' anywhere
No No No No No No No No No
Ohhh

I'll wait for laundry til next week
And why cook? There's delivery
Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah
Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah

Yes I Said It
I Said It
I Said It 'Cause I Can


Today I don't feel like doing anything
I just want to take three good naps
Don't feel like charging up my phone
So text instead when you hear the tone
'Cause today I swear I'm not doing anything
Nothin' at all

Woo Hoo Ooh
Woo Hoo Ooh Ooooh Ooh Ooh
Nothin' at all
Woo Hoo Ooh
Woo Hoo Ooh Ooooh Ooh Ooh
Nothin' at all

Yo, It's April, Fool!

I'd like to share a few highs and lows of the past week

High - sushi delivers in A-town
Low - sushi is never as filling as I want it to be

High - Dr. Duke is visiting
Low - I have to remember to close the bathroom door and sleep in (modest) pajamas

High - TGIFridays for O-dog's birthday
Low - They didn't sing, even after we tipped off both the waitress and the hostess

High - the government thinks we're important
Low - because they think we owe them more money from 2009

High - I haven't fallen for anyone's April Fool's jokes today
Low - No one has fallen for any of mine either

That's all I've got so far.  Happy Friday

And because that Rebecca Black is still stuck in my head...

We, we, we so excited!  Partying, partying, yeah! Fun, fun, fun, fun.  Everybody's looking forward to the weekend!