You may have noticed things looking a bit bare and weird around here. Fear not, aliens have not taken over my URL and started abducting my side bar items and essential design elements, I’m just moving.

I’m excited, it’s like moving out of your parents house. No more big bad blogger telling me what I can and can’t do, no more blogger locking me out of the house when I miss curfew and no more mysteriously eaten by blogger posts.

Moving does have it’s sucky points too. For one, I have to convince you all to update your bookmarks, links and feeds to my new site http://findingyourself.net and I need to pick up all my garbage stuff and make it look pretty over there.

This is where YOU come in. I need badges buttons or pictures from you. Send me an email with your badge button or pic sized 100×100 along with your blog URL and I will add you to my new links pages

send them to

fidgetblogs at gmail dot com

and go check out the new site design Once the move is complete you will be automatically forwarded.

I have some, let’s say business, to attend to in Tampa this coming weekend. It’s a four hour drive round trip and then there is the undetermined amount of time I must spend there to complete my task, meaning I may be away from home for a considerable chunk of time. The Hubster, I assumed, would just watch the girls and I would take Levi with. He, however, thought that I should pump and leave the baby with him. Yes, LEAVE the baby with HIM. You know, the baby that clings to me like monkey 15 hours a day and would like my tit permanently tethered to his mouth.

For a brief second I felt a thrilling rush and an urge to shout FREEDOM! An impulse to jump up on an ironing board, pretending to surf like those old Peppermint Pattie commercials overtook me but then my heart crawled up into my throat. I wondered how I would carry on without him settled on my hip, his little hands busily swiping at my hair or fishing around in my shirt. Would he cry for hours on end? Would he sleep? Would he miss me? What if I don’t leave enough milk, will formula make him ill? How exactly does the Hubster plan on getting milk into him, considering he thus far has soundly rejected all bottles…

A friend, who’ll be joining me, has threatened to pour Vodka down my throat to keep me from hyperventilating while I’m gone and as enticing as blind drunkness is, I still can’t help but feel unsure. Of my three, he needs/wants me the most and also is my babiest baby. My girls were in such hurries to grow up, but sweet little Levi is content to be a baby. I am content to indulge that. I have 6 days to pump milk and make a decision. I’m sure I’ll be worrying about it all week, after all babies need their mamas right?

yes I did IT

Ignore the dark under eye rings and just notice the foot of hair now missing. I feel better.

I’ve got a case of the every-blogger-I-read-but-me-going-to-BlogHer07 blues and the only cure is more cowbell!

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n_PILVkA0MY]

Ok, maybe not. I’m still feeling pretty envious. Damn my health insurance to Hades. I’d have the money to go if I wasn’t shelling out hundreds every month for the privilege of having health insurance not to mention the $4000 deductible which I am now in hock with the hospital for. Levi was my priciest kid yet! He’s lucky he’s cute.

If he was ugly I’d auction him off to pay the bills. The other children only cost us $400 a piece, they had the luxury of general crabbiness and vomiting copiously everywhere.

But since this is a done deal, since BlogHer started today, since I am still rotting in Florida pining for all my regular reads as they whoop it up in ChiTown, I need to break this malaise. I can’t think of a better way to kick this funk to the curb then a contest! (Ok, I can but it involves voodoo dolls, straight pins and meat hats)

Since all this bitterness over not going has left a bad taste in my mouth, I’m sure it has done the same to many of you. Fear not my mopey readers! Drop me a comment below, make sure to link to your blog and/or leave me your email address, and you will be entered to win a Brush Those BlogHer Blues Away gift pack featuring Preserve toothbrushes

Two lucky winners will receive multi packs of environmentally friendly Preserve toothbrushes as well as some other equally exciting natural mouth products. This is a one time entry open to US and Canada residents. The contest closes at 11:59pm eastern standard time on Sunday July 29th 2007.

And if you need more chances of winning to help kill the blues check out this and this (Levi’s bib in the above photo came from here, you’ll be hearing more about that soon enough)

And for those of you who aren’t ready to admit that they are jealous of those Blogher folks, you can wear your badge of blase courtesy of Damselfly

To sum it up:

Want a chance to win one of two Brush Those BlogHer Blues Away gift packs featuring Preserve toothbrushes? Then drop your name and either your blog link or your email address in the comments of this post by 11:59pm EST Sunday July 29th. Even if you have no idea what BlogHer is or if you are a dude, you are welcome to enter. Good luck!

I need a haircut. NEED, not want, not desire, NEED. I run my hands through my locks and loose hair cascades from my head, forming a carpet at my feet. I have split ends. They are bad enough that I am fairly certain bloggers in Canada can see them without the aid of a telescope. At the moment it is hanging wild from my head, thick long and heavy. I am putting forth a Herculean effort to keep me from marching into the most convenient hair palace and paying them to butcher my head. It’s been over two years since Ive had a decent haircut so I’m 99.8% sure that things would turn out badly.

For a while now, I have been making a concerted effort to grow my hair long. Shortly before I met my husband I hacked all my hair off. I went from long cascades of shiny silken waves to one inch spikes in the back and a few cheek bone length pieces in the front. I made the mistake of sharing pictures with him, ones where my hair is long, wrapping around my body like a thick glossy cape. For 7 years I have been trying to grow my hair but the urge to hack it all off always wins out. Right now the only thing holding me back is that 99.8% change of it looking horrible and the possibility of making my husband cry.

Anyone know a really good reasonably priced stylist in Central Florida? Preferably one who will not cry when I direct them to lop it all off.

Dont forget to click over and enter my Brush Your BlogHer Blues Away contest!

I did it. I broke down and started Flickr ing. I’m still suckling at the teat of free Flickr but if you want more Levi, Tessie, Mira and home improvement then I’m doling out here then you should friend me there. Look over in my side bar and you’ll see my photo doohickey.

This picture has a lot going on in it so allow me to narrate.

1) Levi - what a serious little drooly doll face

2) Space Boy Quilt - sewn by a friend who was endlessly patient with my vision and put it all together for me. Karla rocks and will be opening an Etsy store in the near future so stay tuned.

3) The Shirt - It was brought back from Italy by my best friend in the entire universe. All three of my kids have worn it.

Today you can also click over to my review blog and find out about my little animal friends and some contests happening across the blogosphere. Also don’t freak out if in the VERY near future you get diverted to another page when you come to see me. I’m moving to new digs with a new design and some contests to celebrate it all!

Mira is running away from home. She was busted for drawing on the wall ala Tessa. At first it was just a threat meant to scare her father into recanting his “I’m am disappointed in your behavior” statement but when he told her to go pack, she was forced to call his bluff.

With a panic stricken look on her face, she strode over to the big roll of butcher paper we have for coloring. She snatched up 2 crayons, balanced the roll over her shoulder, and announced once again that she was running away forever. The Hubster opened the back door, gesturing grandly in a Vanna White sort of way.

“Bye Sweetie!”

She stood rooted to the floor, her eyes the size of dinner plates. She started flapping her hands a bit, dropping the roll of paper,

“I just a kid, Daddy. I can’t go!!”

What she lacks in follow through she seems to make up for with wisdom. I find it endlessly amusing that of all the things one might need when leaving home- food, clothing, money- she gave no thought to grabbing her piggy bank, her favorite dress or even a pack of raisins. She is truly her mother’s daughter. Give me art supplies or give me death.

It seems that meat hats currently are a very tiny niche market made up of folks with endless style sense and cast iron goat stomachs. For the bold few Annulla dug up the perfect coat to pair with meat hats.

In the spirit of equal air time I tried to find some vegetarian equivalents. Apparently, meat is much more appealing apparel material but I did manage to find a few fruit helmets.

My eyes are watering and I’m starting to swell up over here from all this damn cat dander.

In other news I am heading out to the movies tonight. I am damn excited to see Hairspray. The John Waters version is my all time favorite movie and so help me I might just lose it if they’ve butchered it.

You know how they say the toilet is always broke at the plumbers house? I get it now. The Hubster’s profession involves massacring the local bug population. To some, he is considered nothing short of a god (You think I’m kidding? No really, remember we live in Florida, capital off all things buggy icky and bitey). Yet, my home has been playing base camp to several persistent house flies, a handful of SEWER flies, and several very hungry mosquitoes.

House flies make me gag. All I can think is that every time they land, they are pooping and now my house and family are covered in invisible and yet I am sure DEADLY fly poop. Add to the mix sewer flies which come from whence we poop and we have serious nightmare material. When the sun goes down and I no longer can see these poop laden flies, the mosquitoes swarm. Last night I was able to kill several before they had a chance to bite anyone. I was feeling pretty smug until one of the little bastards bit my nipple.

Let me assure you that nursing with a mosquito bite on your nipple is not the joy one might think it is. Additionally, if you are remotely like me, you tend to absentmindedly scratch your insect bites. Nipple scratching behavior does not go over well when you are standing in Whole Foods perusing the sunscreen section. In fact, a helpful worker might approach you and ask if you need any sort of itch soothing cream. Briefly flustered, you may decide what the hell and turn to this worker and claw at both of your breast simultaneously. You possibly might then ask if they have anything to help heal Scabies and or Pubic Lice. It’s fun to watch their wheels turn while they try to decide if you are serious.

Through this whole ordeal I have been clinging to the good news I received today. My son has a boyfriend

And I may have sold a painting that I created for a contest. I didn’t win the 24 cases of beer but I’m more then elated with the cash offer, especially since I designed and completely this project in only 5 hours time. Selling it will also keep me from repainting the sections that are driving me nuts.

But enough about beer, my son and his boyfriend are the real stars of my day. I also caught them making out:

I told Levi no boys in his Amby bed and the door to the room has to stay open. Remember the key to successful parenting is boundaries.

Here at Finding Yourself, we aim to please. When several of our regulars privately expressed concern over the extravagance of the cold cut meat cake, I had to acknowledge that perhaps the cold cut meat cake isn’t an everyday type of affair. This left me wondering how I can promote meat in my everyday life. Fear not gentle readers for I have discovered a solution that I’m sure will impress even the most vegan of you. I bring you Hats Of Meat

What’s that you say? The Little house on the Prairie bonnet isn’t modern enough for you? Too worried that it won’t project an air of seriousness at your next business meeting? Well then, you might just like:

Now don’t you go thinking that I have forgotten my loyal male demographic.

Here at Finding Yourself we love people of all races religions and colors. In the spirit of diversity I also bring you the brisket yarmulke

So as you can see promoting meat consumption can be a subtle activity that fits into your daily life style without the hassle and extravagance of the meat cake.

I’m hoping to one day discover that someone has fabricated a bacon burka and turkey turban. Not to toot my own horn but I think this informative and useful post deserves a hand.