Ch-ch-ch-change...

Even bigger changes since moving to Wordpress.....
My name has changed over there too! So if you have been check me out, please continue to at


atlanticmama.wordpress.com

I welcome your visits and your comments on my new site :)

xoxo a.m.

Moving...

I am in the process of switching from blogspot to wordpress.

Why?
It's a little niftier, more professional looking ('cause thats what I am going for, apparently) and a little less 'Google'-ish.

Mainly it is based on some really good blog advice a good friend of mine gave me, a friend who is, for lack of a better term 'The King of Technology and all things internet Design'.

So here is my new link ........ toodlepoop.wordpress.com

I would really love it if all 7 of my readers would follow me over there....

So no more posting here (I have been posting on both for the last week). I hope to see you on wordpress and of course am happy to hear what you all (y'all) think of my new site.
Which is in development, I will be tweaking.....

love to all
Jaime

I feel like I have been slightly neglectful of writing this week.

Now that I have a few moments to myself, my thoughts feel a little overwhelmed. So many things fighting to get out, I just know nothing is going to be coherent at all. But perhaps that is just all the time anyways.... My brain tends to run ahead of my mouth, and I assume that everyone is on the same wavelength as me and is following along.

My new interest is Bikram yoga is straightening my spine and filling my mind with healthy thoughts. My muscles ache, but I feel tall. And strong. And clean.

It's a West Coast sort of feeling. A nice granola-y, wheat grass drinking, portabello mushroom burger-eating, organic cotton-wearing, Patchouli smelling, soy bean, miso soup, vegan soap-using feeling.

I think part of it has to do with my cousin moving to Central Florida.

Funnily enough, who would have thought out of the 4 cousins the 2 of us would end up living in Florida when we were adults.

I think it's the most bizarre of coincidences. But then, since considering our family, I wonder why I am surprised. But I think it is a fantastic thing.

Cousin dear and I are at opposite sides of the cousin age group. I am the oldest and she is the youngest. Somehow though, we have a ridiculous amount in common. Of course it's family bond and all that, but more as well. And I am so happy that she moved from the East coast.

And so happy that she let me drag her to Bikram. where she sweated, cursed me and denounced our bloodline. I know she still loves me. And I hope she knows how much I love her and am glad that she is here and part of my life.

Love you Cuz. Not like this.... I just love you...

Mad skills

Yesterday morning I went to check the mail while walking Chewie and carrying V. M was not awake yet (sleeping off the 18 hour day he had finished a few hours before).

For some reason I really get my kicks out of checking the mailbox. I love getting letters, really of any sort. At our last apartment for some reason we only had one mail key (why we never got another one, I will never know), but I would literally fight M for it, wrestle it out of his fingers and dash down the 2 flights of stairs (we lived on the 3rd floor) in my joyous anticipation of checking out mailbox.

Now this was early in my days of living in Florida, and so I usually would have a delightful card/little package/something lovely in that box from Canada waiting for me. How terribly exciting it was to check the mail!

So my hands full with V and Chewie's leash, I unlock our mailbox and reach in... It's stuffed full! Mostly circulars, a few bills, the latest US magazine and a tubular package about 12 inches long.... Just seeing it peeking out of my mailbox got me all excited (tubular things do that to me), so I took it out (it took me about 3 minutes to write those 5 words... I erased 'pulled it out' and then giggled for the remaining 2:50 seconds) and saw that it was addressed to me. Well, it was sort of addressed to me.

Actually it was addressed to 'Jaime McPhooferpantsbum Melvin'. For real.

Oh, that husband of mine. He thinks he's so funny. I should have known that this was coming when I received that tutorial DVD on 'How to Iron' addressed to Jaime McPooter Melvin. I know how to iron, thank you very much.

So, home I went with V, leash, circulars, bills and the tube.

I unlocked the front door, deposited V in to his Jumparoo and went and got some scissors to open this silly package.

A set of four plastic George Killian's Irish Red beer tasting glasses and an official 'Premium Lager' key chain that conveniently doubles as a bottle opener. Plus instructions on how to taste beer properly (to get your own beer tasting kit, click link above and check it out).

Hil-are-E-ous.

Well, now I know how to iron properly and can taste beer like a real man can (or whatever.... or whoever for that matter)

And M still thinks he is the funniest person ever.... and warned me that there might be more things to follow in the mail soon..... geez..... I hope he is a little more creative with the names!

Bloody noses (and crocheting)

Sadly enough I am starting another craft project.

Not that I have actually finished the blanket I was working on or anything.... I am just having problems with it. So instead of starting over with it, I am putting it aside for the time being and starting completely over with brand new yarn (but the exact same pattern).

This is my M.O.

I feel guilty about giving up, so I don't..... I put it 'on hold' and move on to something else. I really do mean to come back to it (I love the colours in the last project).

Anyways, so I am trying a thinner yarn, a smaller crochet hook but am still using the same pattern which is called "Waves" and looks like it will be quite pretty when it's done.

I really will finish this one...... for real.

Anyways, so that was one of our errands today, running to Michael's and picking out some new yarn with V. My colour choice was partially decided by the ball of wool V grabbed and stuffed in his mouth.

Anyways, after all of this craftiness we swung by Gramma and Pop-pop's for a little visit.

V loves playing at their house, probably because it's so much bigger than our apartment, and more people pay attention to him.

He was playing away on the floor and somehow slipped and fell, banging his face on the hard tile floor.

Instant screams and sad little boy face. Tears streaming. Gramma reached him first, grabbed him and instantly soothed him (he loves his Gramma) with this lovely Italianism "Do you want a cookie??". It worked, he got a treat and everything was fine.... He is soooo his daddy's boy!

He was munching away on his little treat, when I noticed that it had turned pink... which was odd, since there was no reason it should have. And that's when I realized that it was blood.

He must have hit his nose when he fell, and with a closer look I realized that there was a smudged trickle of blood on his upper lip. Poor boo, his first accident.

M arrived soon after, I told him about the whole thing and his response was "Really??? Awesome!! His first accident!! Did you take a picture of the blood??"

Men.....

Love Affair

Still feeling the effects of Bikram on my poor body, I gave it a pass today and decided to go for a run instead.

I ran past the ducks, the hibiscus blossoms, the gator pond, the gang in blue tee-shirts on their BMX bikes, the golf course, turned around and ran past it all again.

As I pushed open the pedestrian gate of my apartment complex and hit the sidewalks of my community, I took a deep breath of the fresh spring air.

The scent of blossoms, fresh air and growing things clung to my skin like someone elses cologne. It was like I had just gotten back from a tryst with nature.

That's right...... I am having a love affair with Spring...

Bikram Post Script

Addendum...

Walking into the yoga studio yesterday, I glanced around the room and tried to decide where to put my mat and towel. Not too close to the mirror and not in the back corner so as to seem unsocial. I settled for the middle.

I rolled my mat out, draped my towel over it (sweat catcher), sat down and glanced around the room.

Some young girls were positioned close to the mirror, a middle-aged woman was next to me and there was a naked man laying face-down on his mat next to me. With a closer look, it was clear he wasn't totally naked. Just dressed in skin-tight cream coloured spandex short athletic shorts. With no shirt on.

I am sure you can understand my confusion.

Anyways, the class started, we started doing breathing exercises and began the first few moves. I was watching my poses in the mirror when my gaze swept sideways for a second.

Full-on sweaty package in plain sight reflected in mirror.

Every detail outlined.
Holy mother.
Not what I want to see in yoga class.

But he was so earnest.

And as the class progressed, we all got sweatier and sweatier and his spandex defined more and more.

The class went on, I forgot about it but remembered as soon as the class was over and my neighbour in his practically see-through spandex picked up his mat and headed out of the studio.

Note to self: cream-coloured spandex not a good choice for any exercise at all