Writing stuff down is totally important

There's something funny about moving around. One place feels different from the next. Like, Lima feels different than New Jersey. I don't know exactly what going back and forth from one hemisphere to the other does to my body. Whatever it is, I definitely feel it. Either it's like I live in two places at once, or I have so many steps to perform to get to the next breathing point that I lose track of days. I carry a note pad around all day long. Right now it's my best friend. Without it, even for simple stuff, I'm lost. Here's my list from yesterday:

post office
thomas - tracks - diesel?
food shopping
old navy - kids socks - nico pjs and tees
mortgage, two mos. condo dues
amazon - order books - coupon

And that was just what I did between 9 am and 1 pm. The exciting life of a stay-at-home mom, right? And it's not hard stuff. It's just that my mind is everywhere at once, and focus is nearly impossible to find when I'm here, but I'm also 3,000+ miles away. I still have to schedule a flight back, but I'm waiting to find out what Frank's plans are. Wouldn't want to show up at the apartment if nobody's going to be home. And plus, I'm not sure I brought my keys. That would suck, being locked out with two kids and luggage.

But anyway, back to New Jersey. Back to the moment. This has been a fantastic visit home, and the great news is there's more to come. I just want to keep soaking in all the goodness. I look forward to being back in Lima with Frank. I look even more forward to coming back to NJ. Freaking me out a little is the thought that my son will almost be ready for kindergarten when we officially "come home". I was putting his pajamas on him earlier tonight, and it struck me how he looks like a giant version of the baby he once was, or even what he was just a year ago. And Olivia? Forget about it. Amazing, all the changes and how much I love them. Seriously, sometimes my soul aches when I think about those babies. Soon enough, I'll be back with Frank, drinking a beer on the roof, talking about love and family and the meaning of life. Sweet days to come, my friends. Sweet, sweet days.

Heading back

Looks like the kiddos and I will be leaving on a jet plane in two weeks or so. We've got a husband and daddy waiting for us down there, but fear not. We'll be back for good soon enough.

Stuff I did today, not in chronological order

Ate half a theater-size box of Milk Duds.
Brushed my teeth, then washed and moisturized my face.
Packed a bag for me and the kids for tomorrow -- going to see my niece's school play.
Napped for approximately one hour.
Wore my winter hat indoors half the day, then switched to a pony tail.
Posted this video on FB for Frank.
Raked leaves out of the herb garden.
Got a workout pushing the babies around the back yard in a red kiddie car.
Made two phone calls; one to pay a bill, and one about re-enrolling for health insurance.
Chatted with Jen about Corey Haim while the kids watched cartoons.
Realized I like dressing the kids in coordinating outfits.
Had pot roast, potatoes with gravy, and honey glazed carrots for dinner.
Had Kix cereal with vanilla Silk for dinner number two.
Used a calculator five times.
Smelled fresh rosemary.
Got a little confused remembering winter here is ending, not beginning.
Tried to find a place for all the kids' cool new hand-me-down clothes, all the while being thankful for friends with good taste in toddler fashion.
Wondered if the show The Good Wife is on demand.
Searched high and low for the copy of Vicky Christina Barcelona we evidently still owe Netflix.
Read articles about sports, knitting, and typography, and also started up reading a second book.
Thought about life.

Space. The final frontier.

I'm watching some bedtime Star Trek (the original series). There are nights when I put on episodes I've never seen before, but this time I'm going with an old favorite. Balance of Terror. Arguably one of the best in the show's three-season run. Ahh, young Shatner. And I had a girlhood crush on young Leonard Nimoy. And no, I'm not embarrassed.

Tonight I wish I could snuggle with my husband, who is 3,000+ miles away. It's my not-so-secret wish that he will show up at the front door. It would be the most pleasant surprise ever. Right now I'm so tired but don't want to shut my eyes. I want Frank lying next to me, pretending he's too tired to scratch my back, then stroking my hair until I fall asleep. Sometimes when he does scratch my back, he'll do it for about thirty seconds before he gets distracted or bored, at which point he calls a 'commercial break' and reaches for the remote or picks up a book or does something else to let me know my favor time is over. It's fine, though, because I secretly prefer the stroking of the hair. Actually, there's other stuff I prefer over that, but that none of your beeswax!

Tomorrow we've got a rockin' playdate planned. I'm debating getting my shower tonight. The eternal dilemma. Do I shower tonight and get it over with, or wait until morning and risk getting into a time crunch? It's 12:45 a.m. and I still don't have an answer. Typical. I hate going to bed. Isn't there a magical pill that could solve this? There's a pill for everything else, it seems. If a little tablet can accidentally give a guy a boner for four hours, then why not purposely invent one that allows you to cram a full night's rest into three?

Let me go think on that one. Better yet, let me brush my teeth and watch more of my show. I might start it again from the beginning, so that I can see my favorite parts and then drift off to the sights and sounds of grown men and women acting out space drama in outrageously cool costumes.

Pandora, what's your prob?

I'm having one of those nights where Pandora is completely wasting my time. Enough with the "two-man duo" bullshit, okay? Snooze.

Comfy pants, book. Will be playing The Ecstatic (Mighty Mos) on low.

Oh, let me mention this before I go. I had a fabulous lunch with my friend Lauren this afternoon. By the time we got the check, we were laughing so hard that I had to dab under my eyes to make sure my mascara wasn't half way down my face. Comparing notes with other parents is so refreshing. Now I don't feel so bad for being furious at Livi for that split second after she kicks me in the sternum while I'm changing her diaper. Maybe I shouldn't have watched so much kung-fu while I was pregnant. Livi's ability to absorb Bruce moves is not to be underestimated. Feet of Fury and whatnot.

Ok. Now, really, comfies/book/Mos.

King is bringin' it

Shit, I wish I could write something. I know why I can't. I can't put two real thoughts together lately. Not to sound weird, but Peru changed me. I'm a little freaked out, a little amazed, and a little proud. I want to say thanks to Toni, whose recent blog comments have helped me put words to all the feelings. I just feel like a different person. I feel like I just plain feel more. It's deep, deep shit, man. Deeeep.

In more tangible news, I'm engrossed in Stephen King's Duma Key. Again, weird. I'm not really one for the scary stuff. At least not last time I checked. Hell, maybe it's my new nightly job of chasing scary things out of the kids' room that's got me feeling so bold. Here's what we do. The kids are in their beds, all tucked just right, and Livi says, "Mommy. I scare. Monsters." I stop patting Nico's back, then stand up and say, "All you monsters and dragons and ghosts and trains and engines, go... a... way!" As I'm saying that last part, I swish my arms out in front of myself like I'm snapping a bed sheet. Wa-BAM! Beat it, monsters. The kids congratulate my efforts, and now everyone can sleep.

Except me. I'm off to read some fright and drink my special herbal tea blend. Hot lemon tea, lemon slice, tablespoon of honey, and 2oz. of Southern Comfort. Sleep tight.