Strange Time Capsule Home Movies (2008 edition)

There was a point in 2007-2008 where literally every single one of my friends was away at college. I used to make them these long, ridiculous IMISSYOUUUU videos. Had completely forgotten about it. Then, while looking for old Chance photos, I found this mysterious folder full of them. Though, apparently in the transfer process, the sound got corrupted so half of them are totally mute and the other half have a weird delay between the sound and the video. THANKS, TECHNOLOGY!
Anyway, it's creepy how young I look. AND HOW LITTLE CHANCE WAS!
Time, you are so fleeting...

Jack Is One.

I want Jack's smile and also his fierce temper. I want his unwavering sense of ownership (of EVERYTHING) and his stubborn determination to be free.

I want Shamus' maniacally gleeful laugh and his calm confidence in who he is. I want his long, spider lashes and the soft curls that spring out around his ears. His ability to cry on cue is awe-inspiring.

I want Chance's laser-like focus and his ability to disappear into his imagination. I want his eyes, a dark blue-gray that is both stormy and serene, alternately. I want his absolute lack of fear of asking "why". 

I hope they'll grow up to love me even half as much as I have loved each of them since the day we met.

Puppy Lovin'.

This is my first dog as an adult. I am enjoying it, despite the sheer exhaustion. He's not at square zero with potty training so it could be worse. Though writing a paper on African American reparations while someone cries on the other side of a baby gate (or chews the crap out of your toes) is certainly challenging. We're getting by.

I Am A Disaster.

I am running down the street to clock in for class, though thanks to missing the early bus by about a minute, I am probably going to be a few minutes late. I've got a very large, heavy duffel around my neck, a plastic box full of perm rods in my hand, and my other hand contains a muffin, which I am furiously stress-eating as I hurry down the street. My coat is freshly stained. I have developed a hobble a few minutes after getting off the bus and am now in a full-stage limp. I'd love to stop and take off my boots to figure out what's happening there, but I can't spare the extra time so I'm trying to walk through it. (I discover later someone has left a Lego in the heel of my boot, explaining the excruciating pain in my foot).

A guy on the sidewalk sees me and says, "Well, hi there." I halt, confused, and reply, "Hello" back. Though because my mouth is packed, it comes out "FuhFOH" and little bits of poppyseed muffin spray from the corner of my mouth. He looks horrified and mumbles something as he turns away. I stagger on. Somehow I actually manage to arrive a few minutes early to class.

I've completed my first week back to school. I made it all five out of five, which for me is unusual. Every week after this one I'll be going six days a week. There are sixteen weeks total, though if I can maintain great attendance, I can finish in twelve. One down, eleven to go! 

School Zone Ahead.

My class schedule for this upcoming semester looks a tad insane. I'll be interested to see what it's actually like when I'm doing it every day. Maybe it won't be as bad as I'm anticipating. Every time I think about school starting back up, I get incredibly depressed. I like being at home. I like having dinner with my family. I like not having to tell Shamus to entertain himself so I can do my homework. I like cooking! What a funny departure from the me of two years ago who would skip off to school whistling a tune. Where'd she go? Four months of madness to get through.

 Favorite picture I've taken lately- My gorgeous son and his gorgeous purse. It was my free gift for renewing my Vogue subscription. He immediately snatched it up. That kid can really pull off a black sequin. (Chance's still on his photo strike. I'm respecting his bubble. Though they are totally due for some Sears portraits or something before they get any bigger...)

*Edit: That picture of Jack and Shamus totally gave me deja vu. I call it "Three Kids, One Pair of Striped Pajamas".

Chance.

 Shamus.

Jack.

Resolutions.

Things I would like to aim for in 2013:

1. Date my husband.
As far as priorities, this has not been up there this last year. The more children we've had, the harder this has been to do. I think, at some point, we just stopped trying. This year I want to try harder to make one-on-one time for ourselves. Once a month.. Pretty reasonable.

2. Buy less, thrift more.
I've noticed my kids are becoming fairly obsessed with "new, new, everything new". Since they've taken to the whole "donate what we don't use so others can use it" philosophy, I'm hoping "used stuff is just as good, let's save some money" will also work out. 

3. Paint more rooms of my house.
Bathroom, kitchen, bedroom.. I'm not choosey. I just really need everything to not be so BEIGE.

4. Fight the clutter.
It's going down. 

5. Read.
I have a book list again but I'm not going to beat myself up if I go off-list. Donations welcome.

6. Cook things outside my comfort zone.
My grandmother kitchen-guilts me from the other side. Cookbooks are STILL coming in her name a couple times a year. I'm going to take the hint and actually use one.

7. Finish my degree.
Dream the impossible dream. Half a semester of make-up Cosme hours and a few English and math classes (plus that pesky Behav Health) and I'm outta here, college.

8. Make progress on my tattoo.
The "big one".

9. Round out my resume.
Unpaid externships? Gimme. Volunteer hours? On-the-job education? I want it.

10. Help Shamus expand his social circle.
With Chance being at school, he's clearly lonely. I need to work harder to take him out (not the easiest with a wee baby) so he can meet people his age to play with. On a side note, this probably wouldn't hurt me either. It seems like everyone I know is fleeing to other parts of the country. Part of getting older, I guess, but it's a part I am decidedly NOT enjoying. 

December!

Holiday party action.

This picture is accurate. I am tired and Jack is a blur of motion.