lunch break

...33

...Tonight I am 33.

You can say it. I'm old.

We started the day early. Way too early. I tried to figure out a way to get the toilet in every shot from the day but this is the only one where it worked out:

...then my teenage son, who I had to wake up at 8:30, and I took off for his last day of school:

...momma went to Starbucks, where she read every facebook message, every e-mail, and every text that had come in, while drinking the largest drink possible because somehow Starbucks knew it was my birthday:

...then we had a date with all Charlie's classmates (and teacher) at the park, where he received the award for, "Never pooping at school."A mother couldn't be prouder:

Everyone was really happy to be there.

Then we came home. There's no better feeling than coming home to this:

My cleavage looks 33.

Dinner out and home for  baths:

(Clara looks extremely muscular. She does some tough upper-body workouts).

Dessert. Chocolate covered strawberries from my local farmer and a cupcake from, well, Acme:

A stack of magazines:

...and a very, very smart, sweet husband who must have heard me in the middle of the night the other night when I grumbled, "All I want for my birthday is a night in a f*!^&* hotel:"

I have to say, I feel 33. I am tired.  Today's to-do list included dropping off the check for the mosquito control program, paying medical bills, and making an appointment to fix the burners on the stove. Three year-olds don't understand, "But it's my birthday" when they don't want to nap. Nine month-olds don't understand, "But it's my birthday" when they are up at 5 a.m. But even when that three year-old was whining from not napping, it was music to my ears to hear him moan, "Mommmamommamommma." And even though that nine month-old was up way too early, it's hard not to love her, "I love you so much" grin. Yes, birthdays are not quite the same these days, are they?

...once a mountain hawk

...always a mountain hawk.

I stopped at Mercer's awesome rental last night (we are living parallel lives, but I'll save that for another post) after visiting Molly Marine and my phone started exploding with texts. You see, Lehigh's gone to the dance before. And they've even given the other team a run for their money before. But Duke?

I had a doctor's appointment the other day and he asked where I went to school and when I said Lehigh, he made some smart remark about what a "good" game it should be this weekend. Yeah, maybe I should call him on Monday and see if he watched that good game.

I imagine thousands of Lehigh alums were scouring their wardrobes today not for some green, but for some good ol' brown and white.

PS - Even typepad's spellchecker doesn't know what Lehigh is.

...best handwriting

...in honor of National Handwriting Day (thanks to Ken's sister, Katie, for informing me of this important national holiday), I'm happy to introduce you to my latest venture...my etsy store:

(Because now that I'm a SAHM, I need something to do all day besides watch Soap Operas and eat bonbons. What IS a bonbon, anyway?)

In June 1997, my high school's senior superlatives came out in the yearbook. Someone got "most likely to succeed" and someone else got "best looking." My superlative? "Best handwriting." Fifteen years later, I've finally decided to put it to good use, hand-lettering envelopes.

I have no idea if I'll ever sell anything, so that's why it's a good thing our new mortgage isn't dependent on this little venture. I'd love for you to spread the word, if you are a spreading the word type of person.

And, for the record, Charlie and Clara Landers are my most favorite, fictional people to send mail to.

...my blog's identity crisis

...I started adding categories to my posts last week as a way to keep myself more organized.

And I realized I've been blogging since 2005. I have written 1,099 posts (this will be my 1,100th post) and received 10,468 comments. Here's my first post. Pretty thought-provoking, right? Sad thing is that none of the people I linked to in that initial post even blog any more.

So why do I?

I've said often that I have an awful memory. Which I recently found out could be linked to my thyroid disorder. I've learned I can blame almost everything on my thyroid disorder, including hair loss, cold feet, rainy days, the world economy, and my scatter brain.

Back to my awful memory. This blog has very much become my memory keeper. And I love it because of that. But I have no niche. My family reads, and so do some of my oldest friends. But why do you come here?

I am not a mommy blogger, I don't think.

I am not a decorating or home improvement blogger, I don't think.

I am definitely not a lifestyle blogger.

I am not a scrapbooking blogger, I don't think.

I go weeks without having anything to say and then have days where I could write five posts.

I don't have advertising on my sidebars because no one has ever asked me to advertise there. Why would they?

I've never been up for a blogging award, although maybe if I keep at it someday I'll win award for oldest blog EVER. Now there's something to engrave on your tombstone. Laura Kurz. Wife. Mother. Daughter. Oldest blog in existence.

I try to keep things light, but I worry every day about my mom's cancer, my son's talking, my daughter's torticolis. I miss my dog, my grandfather, my job, my furniture. This morning I put a stamp on an envelope upside down and backwards. Figure that one out.

Thanks for reading. Thanks for sticking with me.

...you know I love me a celebrity sighting

...Baltimore's own, Joe Flacco:

It's funny when I see a celebrity, I try to think of anything we have in common that I can strike up a conversation with them about. Joe went to the University of Delaware. I'm from Delaware! Sort of. Joe's wife is pregnant. I was pregnant this time last year! Today is Joe's birthday. My birthday's in four months! But then I just sit there and stare.

...and a very artistic shot of my caesar salad, which I took when I realized the flash was going off on the camera:

Yum.