All we do is move

I realized that next time we move, which will probably be pretty soon, it will be Louisa's fourth home. Sixth if you count the intermediate months we've spent with grandparents.
I could, but don't want to, figure out how many places Dylan and I have lived together... it's a lot.
All we do is move.

It's so good though

Dylan's parents treated us to an all-you-can-eat Asian buffet last night for mother's day. I ate stir-fried noodles like a mo-fo and spent the rest of the evening with heartburn from hell, trying to decide if it was worth it.
Still not sure.

good thing

My right hip is bothering me and my belly is really starting to get in the way of my 6 mile bike commute.... good thing I only have all summer left to be a fatso. 

Rotary

Last time I presented at a Rotary breakfast club meeting, it was on the Affordable Care Act, in Rathdrum, Idaho and a good majority, if not all, of the crowd was anti-Obama republican.
It still went fine, nobody booed or anything, but it was definitely an uphill presentation. Not preaching to the choir but whatever the exact opposite of that would be. Trying to get the choir to do mime...?

Anyways.

This morning it was a rather different topic and a rather different group of Rotarians. The breakfast was better too.

Both times I've started out thinking, this is nice.... maybe I'd like to join one of these organizations one day? And then the president grabs the gavel and the ceremony begins and you wonder if they're about to break out the wigs and the powder and go all Louis XV.
And I think... maybe not.

my daughter is my husband....shit!

I love Dylan, dearly. I just want to state that for the record before I start slinging shit at him.
But, like all people, he as some personality traits that don't quite mesh with my personality. The most annoying one?
He loves to push buttons, test limits and look back at lines he shouldn't have crossed.
Little things can become really big because of his inability to let things be, and my inability to ignore his obsessive questioning of everything.

This is nothing new. We've lived this way for well over a decade. What is new, is that Lou is clearly starting to display signs of being her dad's most loyal disciple.
She pushes my buttons. My buttons, not her dad's.

And I know, I know. She is two years old. She's supposed to be stubborn and difficult and test limits and blah blah... I get it. And it's not like I thought my child would be special in anyway and not go though the terrible twos or anything like that.

It's just that I feel outnumbered. They are two against one now.   

Shiny happy people

I had the best weekend.
One of the best.
My heart is full of love and friendship.

Also. Lou slept till 8 on Sunday. As if she knew her mom had been partying like a 16-year old, dancing till Macarena and Så Klart! till 12:30 in the morning.

So all is well.

I don't know.. I don't like you

We have a new cleaning lady at work, and I don't like her.
She looks at me like I got my office floor muddy on purpose.
Lady! It's not my fault and you're not my mom.
It's raining, my shoes are wet, we all wear shoes inside around this office. You get paid to clean, it's not like I'm stomping around on your heirloom rugs with dirty paws.
I could be overreacting.
But she rubs me the wrong way.