I love the clean slate a new year brings. Out with the old, in with the new! While I’ve been making my goals and New Year’s Resolutions, I took time to update a few things on my blog.

→ My About page is new and improved – with pics!
→ My Links page (formerly titled “Linky Love”) more accurately reflects the blogs I’m currently following and not sporadically visiting. Yep, it’s a shorter list with less of those cute buttons that I love so much. I’m sure this will remain a work in progress as I discover cool new blogs.
→ I pared down my Flair section because, truth be told, I can’t possibly frequent and contribute to all of those lovely mom blogger communities. I’m grateful that each of them exist because support is essential but I’m limiting my links to reflect the ones I participate in (as much as possible).

In 2012 you can expect to see Friday Funnies continue, a recently added feature where I recap my week’s biggest laughs. Along with more frequent updates, this year you’ll find more book recommends because I like sharing good reads and you’ll get much more pics. We have an excellent camera and it’s time I learned how to upload pictures to my computer myself instead of relying on the technical savvy of my hubby. And after our baby girl is born in April there will be lots of cute baby photos!

If you have a blog you might want to check out Mom Blog Magazine’s blogging predictions about what will be trending in 2012.

Hope your year is off to a great start. Cheers!

The fact that we welcomed 2011 while huddled under blankets and with several space heaters on full blast left me thinking, “This must be a sign that this is going to be one tough year.” Not that I’m superstitious but boy did that premonition ever come true. Turns out, having our a/c unit go out during the holidays (which was the coldest part of winter and then it broke again in the hottest part of summer) was one of the easiest challenges my family faced last year. Most of those struggles I can’t write about because I’m simply not as candid as other bloggers and, more importantly, they are not mine alone to divulge. (Someday soon I hope I can because there are important lessons to share.)

None of that is to overshadow the best news of the year: that my husband and I are expecting our third child! How bizarre it is that our oldest child is a freshman in high school. Before I know it I’ll be sitting on the hard bleachers, my butt totally asleep, watching her get her diploma. Where does the time go?!?

Another year gone…

I never got into some of the biggest trends of the year, like planking or Angry Birds. Here’s what I will remember about 2011:

Best fiction book I read: The Way the Crow Flies

Best nonfiction book(s) I read: 3,096 Days in Captivity by Natascha Kampusch and Imperfect Justice: Prosecuting Casey Anthony by Jeff Ashton

Best movie: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2

Best TV show: The Office (always) and seven years after the show ended I finally discovered Dead Like Me, which co-starred the exquisite Laura Harris. So sad that show had to end over creative differences.

Best reality TV show: Mob Wives
(I’d give the Best Reality TV Show Moment Award to Drita and Karen for their fight on the rooftop in the Season 1 finale. Holy crap, I thought someone was going over the edge!)

Best new song: “Love You Like a Love Song,” Selena Gomez & The Scene

Song I couldn’t get out of my head: “Mercy,” Duffy

Vacations: Rocky Point, Mexico (could have lived without the stomach flu though) and Disneyland in July

Best quote: “Reality hits you hard, bro” – George Lindell. (In fact, that pretty much describes this year for me.) I give the best quote runner-up to Madison for “none of your bunnies.”

Best thing I ate: Lucas’ Smashed Potatoes at Thanksgiving

Proudest moment: When it’s all said and done, I am the proudest of how my entire family bonded together when things got rough

2011 in a word: Trials!

Sad goodbyes: Borders, Harry Potter movies, Amy Winehouse and Steve Jobs

If I had 2011 to do over again: I would have blogged more, flossed more, and been more productive

What I am most looking forward to in 2012: The birth of my third child in April! Moving into a new house and kicking myself in the butt to meet some of my writing goals.

And in 2012 you can also find me each week on Today’s Mama.

Here’s to a happy, healthy new year!

Been busy. Been stressed. My allergies are acting up this year, as is common for pregnant women. I broke down and took two Benadryl last night to stop this incessant coughing. Fourteen hours later I was wishing for a Starbucks and someone to help me chase down a two year-old who keeps stripping. I’m told this is a sign they’re ready to start potty training since they want their diaper off the second they pee. That’s terrific but do we have to do this today when I’m so exhausted? Seriously, I could hibernate after taking Benadryl.

And, I was disgruntled this morning to learn that Pottermore is still not available. So, while I’m feeling crabby it’s with great irony that I accept the Sunshine Award from Janice at The (not so) Special Mother.

I love Janice’s wit and humor, and most of all, her honesty. Her blog is totally relatable – if you’re a parent her Mother Lion post will resonate with you. (I still remember the little girl who bit my daughter in preschool.)

Now for the easy part of accepting the award: the Q&A’s.

1. Favorite color. Violet (not surprising). I also like orange.
2. Favorite animal. Of all animals, penguin. Domestic animals, definitely cat.
3. Favorite number. What a weird question. I’d say 31 because of my birthday.
4. Favorite drink: Coke. I think I was the first consumer to notice when they switched to the polar bear cans.
5. Facebook or Twitter? Facebook! I still don’t see the point of Twitter even though I have an account. What am I missing?
6. What’s your passion? My family. They make everything worthwhile.
7. Giving or receiving presents? Soooo easy. Giving, of course.
8. Favorite day. Sunday. I get to spend the most time with my family just before the work/school week starts.
9. Favorite flower. Roses! I had the most amazing roses at my wedding. I even skipped a veil so I could have a halo with baby roses and a peach bow in the back.

After the ceremony I could not stop smelling my bouquet. (Thanks to Gatsby’s Fine Florist in Scottsdale, AZ. No idea why I can’t find a website for them now…)

Now for the hard part: passing along the award to other bloggers. The reason this is so hard is because there’s so many great bloggers out there, some of whom honor me by stopping by my little blog. And, I just don’t have the free time to keep up with all of them as much as I would like to. So, just a few honorable mentions:

1) I love Kristy at Pampers and Pinot.
2) Also Michelle at What this Mom Knows! She’s a Twilight fan… I didn’t even know there was such a thing as a Twilight Blog Hop before I found her. Michelle’s Finding Edward post is hysterical!
3) There’s Reagan at Where is the ME in Mommy?
4) And Alexis at Depressions and Confessions, but she hasn’t been blogging a lot lately (understandably so). I do enjoy her writing though.
5) The book reviews at The Book Buff are great.

I faithfully follow the Query Shark and lately I’ve been reading Dooce, although I don’t know why. That girl has a foul mouth, even if she is an ex-Mormon.

And I’ve been a fan of Isaac Marion’s Burning Building ever since I StumbledUpon it one lucky evening. I follow him on Facebook and I love his random posts: “I seriously underestimated the distance between (home) to Jared’s house. And that’s how I ended up walking five blocks through a suburban neighborhood in the frosty night wearing my bathrobe and slippers and carrying a bag of cheese.”

I’m sure I’ve left out some great blogs that I follow. Can’t worry about that now though because I have a two year-old who demands that I play Candyland with him this instant. Priorities, you know.

I see this every year and I laugh every year.

Another annual Thanksgiving tradition for me is to wait until the last minute to go to the grocery store for the ingredients my husband needs to make his famous mashed potatoes (“Lucas’ Smashed Potatoes”). Why go early when I can play chicken with shoppers in the parking lot, fight for a decent space, juggle everything because there’s no more available carts, and wait in a long line? P.S. I did this twice today because I forgot the milk and bought half the needed heavy whipping cream.

But how can I complain while I’m snuggled on the couch watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade, flipping through Black Friday ads, and sipping a mocha frappuccino? No need for me to be in the kitchen. My family does Turkey Day potluck style. All we are responsible for is the mashed potatoes and a dessert. I bought a pumpkin roll and some strawberry/vanilla/fruity cake thing that makes you gain weight just looking at it. But if I were really concerned about calories would I have gone to Starbucks?

Uh oh… it might be profane to utter the “c” word on a day like today. It’s for feasting gluttonously and forgetting dietary restrictions until it’s time to make New Year’s Resolutions. And most of all being thankful. Hope you and yours are enjoying a wonderful, safe holiday.

I remember my friend’s chilling account of her worst nightmare like it was yesterday. She was hosting an intimate soiree in her home, mingling with friends and family while proffering a selection of fine hors d’oeuvres. Her blond locks were pulled into a tight, sophisticated French twist. She walked confidently on thin, spike heels and wore a silky, white dress that flowed to a modest ankle-length… except that it was completely unzipped in the back. Her guests seemed oblivious to her fashion faux pas so she enjoyed her party, shamelessly exposing her backside.

She found herself in a conversation with her Papa, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. When was the last time she’d seen him? She’d missed him terribly so why had she let so much time go by? The answer was a shocking realization: her Papa was dead. Wait… so how could he be here? she wondered.

Then she noticed her husband across the room engrossed in a conversation with a long-time friend. Her husband, who had died a few years before from an aneurysm, and the friend, no longer wheelchair-bound, who’d lost his fight with cancer just months earlier. A frantic scan of her guests revealed a frightening truth: everyone was dead. That explained her open dress: she was dead too. As is the custom, it had been cut down the back to more easily clothe her rigid, lifeless body when she was embalmed. (This jolting end to my friend’s nightmare reminded me of the eery flick, The Others.)

Sixteen years later I remember the night terror I had about Norman Bates from which I awoke with my heart thundering and my sheets drenched with sweat. Yet, I have also woken from dreams laughing, positive I conceived an idea for a sensational new gadget, or with a contented calm from some serene, mythical world. And though I try to remember the good dreams they fade to rags and tatters before I even get out of bed. It’s incredibly frustrating, like my own subconscious is keeping tantalizing secrets from me.

Being pregnant, I’m dreaming even more and still suffering from nighttime amnesia. Why do I care so much? Without a dream as her inspiration, Stephenie Meyer wouldn’t have penned the Twilight series. I wonder if I’m missing out on the inspiration of the next literary blockbuster… and I also wonder about the mystery behind some recurring dreams I’m having of which only one sketchy detail remains: that Jon Cryer features prominently. Yeah, Duckie from Pretty in Pink. Weirdness.

It is a rare moment when I am glad to have a telemarketer call me.

(In fact, I need a better word. What is rarer than rare? Freak? Unwonted? Preternatural?)

This telemarketer called my cell phone, which I had been unable to find anywhere. Two year-olds get their hands on expensive technology and hide it in the most unusual places. Luckily the sound of the ringing led me to my teenager’s dresser. Like I ever would have looked there.

Anyway, I would have called my cell phone with my home phone but we don’t have one of those anymore. Long story, but now we are experimenting with whether we need it or not since everyone in this house in their teenage years and up has their own cell. But on days like this I think we do need a land line. I kept thinking, what if there’s an emergency? I felt like I was back in the Dark Ages. Or at least the early 90s.

I’m glad to be back in communication with the world but now I have a different problem: a two year-old who doesn’t want to take his nap. In moments like this I need a little mood music:

I love oldies. Makes me think of the Five & Diner. Tuna melts, juke boxes, and waiters with those funny white hats. Good times.

Last weekend we took the little man on his first trip to Rocky Point, Mexico.

A horrible case of gastroenteritis ripped its way through our family and we almost didn’t get to make our vacation. But a few doctor visits and a day and a half later, we took off for la playa armed with sunscreen and Pepto Bismol.

Why stay at home to be sick when you could be here instead?

A week ago I was eating fresh fish by the ocean…

Now it’s back to the dry heat of the Phoenix desert. Home is nice but this vacation definitely didn’t last long enough. Echo de menos la playa.

For years I never ventured to the left side of Toys R Us with all the boy toys. I steered my cart to the right where the Disney princess stuff could be found and almost everything was pink. Over the years I shopped on the right side for Easy Bake ovens, tea sets, a Strawberry Shortcake house, Polly Pockets, and an array of Barbie luxury items.

Since the birth of my son I’ve had to start navigating the unfamiliar territory of the left side of the store – Star Wars Lego sets, action figures, Tonka trucks, Hot Wheels, Nerf guns, and army men. Just yesterday I found myself shopping the left side of Toys R Us. But not for my son. My husband wanted a remote control helicopter. He started with a little one but quickly had to upgrade to this.

We women outgrow the need for tea parties with our dolls. Boys, on the other hand, keep their toys. They call them “collector’s items.” The older they get the bigger and more expensive their toys. (In fact, there’s got to be some mathematical equation where you take the value and size of a man’s toys and it equals his age.)

Here’s what I’m confused about: they say you grow old when you stop playing. So why do men have a shorter life expectancy than women?

A book is like a garden carried in the pocket. -Chinese proverb.

I recently posted about the quest for my personal Eat Pray Love experience. I immediately knew what I didn’t want. It was easy to cross eating off the list of potential cathartic and life-changing experiences I was searching for. I may still fit into a size 4 or 6 (depending on the brand) but I can still pinch an inch. The other day when I treated myself to a birthday pedi the lady asked me how far along I was. As in, she thought there must be a baby snuggled under my paunch.

(I know you want to know how that went down. I looked at her and said, “Not pregnant. I have an 18 month-old. I just need to lose the weight.” She apologized. Yes, she was embarrassed and so was I. I actually did still tip her a normal amount but I sure hope she’s learned her lesson.)

So, suffice it to say, I’m not thinking about how to eat more pasta. It struck me that there is a different kind of nourishment that I’ve been missing lately. Something I usually allow myself to indulge in sparingly because there’s never enough time in a day.

This thing I’m talking about is words. I love words. I’d go as far as to say that words nourish my soul and reading is like smelling a flower.

Shakespeare was the pink lily of my maudlin teenage years. Then I found the orchids Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Elizabeth George, and the Belladonnas King, Koontz, and Poe. Next there was V.C. Andrews, the moonflower, the lotus of Alice Adams, the petunia of F. Scott Fitzgerald, and the periwinkles Sylvia Plath and Anne Sexton. In my 20s I developed an enduring passion for the gentle violet of Anne Tyler and the red rose of e.e. cummings.

The books I have read are far greater than flat and lifeless words on a page. They become entwined with my history and present. My husband says he knew for sure he was in love with me the day he called on his way home from work to share the sunset with me and I immediately recited cummings’ poem from memory:

“who are you, little i

(five or six years old)
peering from some high

window;at the gold

of November sunset

(and feeling:that if day
has to become night

this is a beautiful way)

We wove Shakespeare’s words into our wedding vows. Lucas quoted Lucentio from The Taming of the Shrew: “I burn, I pine, I perish.” For my part, I began with Dr. Seuss (“You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams”) and ended with Hamlet: “Doubt thou the stars are fire; doubt that the sun doth move; doubt truth to be a liar; but never doubt that I love.”

And, when I encounter a bad driver, almost daily in Phoenix, I can’t help but recall the moment in “The Great Gatsby” where Nick and Jordan discuss her reckless driving. I can hear Nick asking her, “Suppose you meet someone just as careless as yourself?”

So, this was one answer in my self-discovery journey, percolating for years just under the surface, ready to reveal itself as soon as I was listening. I want to read. Not as in the hobby of reading a book or two a week. I want to read because it’s not just what I do, it’s part of who I am.

Plan A is to get to church on time with my whole family. Plan B is to go without my family if they’re too tired to come along. Plan Zzzzz is what actually happens. We all want to stay in bed.

I always enjoy church when I go. I just don’t like waking up, getting ready, packing a diaper bag and schlepping my tired butt there. And everyone else’s tired butt too. Fatigue is my number one excuse for not doing something. It’s easy to cop out when you’re a mommy who doesn’t get all of the sleep she wants. (Can I get a witness?!)

Several months ago I came up with a plan to perk up in the a.m. It was something I’d always wanted to try – starting my morning off with an ice facial. Michelle Phan has this great DIY instructional online and it’s so simple. You make some green tea (I never add the Vitamin E), pour it into ice cube trays and freeze it. Each morning you pop a cube out of the tray and rub it on your face. The green tea is good for your skin and the cold closes your pores.

So I started this daily regimen and got my teenager to do it too. Teenagers are easy guinea pigs. They’ll try anything to get clear skin, except abstain from chocolate and pizza. We didn’t start attending church any more regularly but our skin was looking more radiant. I’m sure this is at least some consolation to the pastor. I like to think he cares deeply about the complexion of his parishioners.

Now I’m back to wondering, how do all the other Mommies pull off getting their husband and kids to church on time? They even manage to be impeccably dressed complete with heels, jewelry and their makeup done. I’m in my pajamas and robe right now listening to Hudson on the baby monitor as he falls asleep. And I’m wondering, how soon before I can go back to bed? I’ll be attending the Church of Rip Van Winkle today for sure.