A new day, a new gig, a happier me.

Things are looking up; my mood is lightening a little more each day, and the sunshine and warmth that’s been poking around these parts lately has had more than a little to do with that. For a stretch of days last week and the beginning of this week, it has been sunny and in the 70s, and that is RIGHT up my alley. I’ve had the opportunity to prepare garden beds and plant flowers. The physical work, time outside, and thoughts of beautiful gladioli, dahlias, cosmos, and yarrow bursting open some time in the future all swirl together to make my step a bit more sprightly.

When I haven’t been playing in the dirt, John and I have taken Braden here and there to various parks and playgrounds around our area. I have really missed doing that, and so has Braden. It’s not that you can’t do that kind of stuff when it’s cold – that’s what jackets and hats are for, after all – but my kiddo happens to have a serious HATE relationship with his face getting cold.

And I wasn’t too keen on seeing how he’d feel about a ski mask, so yeah.

But for days recently, we’ve been riding down slides and pumping our legs on the swings, and I’ll be damned if that doesn’t make me a gagillion times more giddy than a glass of red wine.

I do not forsake thee, red wine. I just place you aside for a short time. We shall join again, I promise thee.

Monday night, I was able to hang out with some lovely blogging ladies at the UBP IRL in Nashville, snarf some red wine and cheese, and have my husband and kiddo not far away from me. That was pretty freakin’ nice, too.

And I’ve just started a new writing gig, to which I was referred by the always lovely Sarah (Imaginary Binky).

It’s helping me find my “big girl” journalistic voice, which is kind of cool, in a challenging and frustrating way (can you say, “Lotus has to learn how to get a point across without droning on and on and on for eons?). Yeah, you could say I’m not the Queen of Brevity. And then you could say it again, scream it, and finish by stamping it on my forehead.

So I’ve been setting things up and writing my very first articles as Nashville Parenting Examiner. I’ll be writing a lot of locally flavored items, as well as many general parenting pieces. I’m planning on writing about events and activities that will be of interest to people in this area, and also publish a regular spattering of opinion pieces that anyone can get their head into. In addition, I’ll be hosting giveaways there, and giving general information that is helpful for all parents.

On top of all that, I’m planning on spotlighting Parent Bloggers I know and love (could this be you?) that I’ve built relationships with during my time on this website. Groovy, right? I think so. I’ll be counting on page views and subscriptions to keep me afloat, so anyone subscribing, visiting, and commenting? Will make my day.

The RSS feed is http://www.examiner.com/RSS-6205-Nashville-Parenting-Examiner

The related Twitter account is nashvilleparent

So, warmth, sun, fun, productivity, accomplishments… laughter, mirth, time with family… I’m seeing good things. It’s feeling pretty good.

Why, I’ve been so inspired by happiness lately that I even shaved my legs for the first time in over a month, trimmed the ole’ 70s bush and frolicked in the sheets with my husband. And while you may think, “UH 1) TMI and 2) So?” it’s a big deal here, considering that the last time that happened we conceived a baby. Yeah. Read the archives a little and do the math. You’ll see that it’s been an awfully evil long time.

Psychologically crippling fears resist logic and desire and can put you in places you don’t want to be for even a second. And then they keep you there for indefinite amounts of time. You even start feeling that the pain that’s being caused you and your most beloved is all your fault; you should just wake up, break out, get better, damnit.

It just can’t be forced.  Something’s gotta give, one way or another.

It’s giving. Finally, it is caving in and crumbling away.  Bit by bit.

And as it falls off of my shoulders, I’m feeling that shine again, the one that comes from inside. Not the same shine as before, from the same girl as before, but that’s okay.

Every day of this adult life, I’m learning. I’m always in process; this is a journey. The waiting for the completion of who I am and where I’m going is pointless.  I am ever changing.  It is time I accept that and who I am right now, ready to welcome the next change, whatever the moments that pass may hold.

Just be, right?

I’m workin’ on it.

Lazy douche goes to Ultimate Blog Party, Nashville.

Have you heard of The Ultimate Blog Party by 5 Minutes for Mom?

Probably so, because you are all much smarter, more hip, and in the know than I.

I hadn’t heard about it until my lovely friend Mrs. Fussypants invited me to the physical version of one going on here in Nashville.

No offense to 5M4M, it’s just that I never know what the hell is going on anywhere until someone clues me in.  I’m a super idiot spazz braindead moron cutting edge on-the-fly kinda girl like that.

That didn’t even make any sense. But let’s pretend like it did.

Point? I’m heading over to Malia‘s house Monday evening, where the Nashville Ultimate Blog Party is being held, to embarrass myself at yet another internet-related IRL Event. And I’m forcing my husband to come with me, because I heard there MIGHT be a LITTLE wine there and if there is? I get to have some. And that means he gets to drive.

Sarcastic Mom does not endorse drunk, buzzed, or tipsy driving.

Get thy drink on safely.

You know, what I really meant to say is that if he didn’t come with me, I’d miss him a lot and be miserable. Yeah, that’s it.

And I didn’t just correct myself for fear of losing frequent foot rubs and after-dinner dish cleanup by the hus.

And by the way, it’s also totally not just so he can babysit Braden while I blab and gab and act like a super doof.

Really. It’s not.

Our bond is thick and dear and we cannot bear to be apart for even short periods of time.

Yeah. You don’t even believe me, do you? You damn people have gotten too smart.

So, Monday night I get to leave the house in the evening (*gasp*), possibly have a drink, hang out with other bloggers (score) and listen to the lovely Leslie Mills perform.

I hear tell that we are supposed to be prepared to be interviewed, so I’ll be washing the bottom of my shoes on the off chance that I’ll be sticking one of my feet in my mouth.

You laughed when I said “off chance.” Seriously. Stop being so damn smart.

This post really was the dumbest way to virtually introduce myself to anyone visiting from the UBP, but hey, might as well make it clear from the get-go that I am clueless, moronic, lazy, irresponsible, and can’t be expected to follow rules.

By the way, apparently there are prizes to be won if you follow all the rules and post something/link in by March 27.  Or something like that.  I got a bit confused.  I think you have to comment on at least 832 blogs to enter.  What?  I don’t remember, but it sounded cool.  For people who have energy and are not Big Fat Lazy Douches.

Just give me my wine, and I will be okay.