Pocket Aces

More things you should know about me.

Did you enjoy being rickrolled? I know, I know... your joy could hardly be contained. What can I say, Internet? I do it for you. Also, I'm 12 on the inside.

So. This past weekend I went off on a scrapbooking retreat. Now, any of you who have not met me, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "God, I thought Robyn was cool? Hip? She scrapbooks?! The HELL!??"

Well, it's true. I make scrapbooks, and I live in the suburbs, and sometimes play that ridiculous game "Bunco", and I'm in a book club, and I tend to vote Republican, and I don't own a single Apple product. And I'm happy about every single one of those things. You may as well also know that, despite all of the above evidence, I don't go to church and therefore will surely go to Hell. And if all THAT wasn't enough to convince you that you can't pigeonhole me, allow me to drop the bomb that I can't f-ing STAND Josh Groban. Whew. Glad I got that off my chest. Let's move on now, shall we?

Yeah, scrapbook weekend. I had to miss it last year, because I was very pregnant with Mason and was put on bedrest the day before I was set to take off. I cried a completely irrational amount of tears over that and everything else I could think of for a whole month, but I blame the hormones. This year, I got to go! Party time!! After scrapbook weekend is over, we all tend to notice that our pants are a little tighter, and our livers are a bit overworked, and we have to struggle to bring our language back to acceptable levels for our kids. We also are just a few hours behind on sleep. If we're lucky, we also managed to stick a few photos down on some paper, so our husbands will allow us to go next year.

Here's a photo that made it into the scrapbook. It's of me and my baby girl taken last spring, and it's one of a very small pile of pictures of me that I don't hate.

This is not a test.

I just heard the best new song this weekend, and if you don't want to hear it, you shouldn't click here.

The apple doesn't fall far, and that might not be a good thing for her.

My mom and I, circa 1977 or so.

Mason, December '07.

Most people who meet Mason say she looks just like me (excepting her bright blue eyes). I'm never sure - I've never been good at seeing which parent a kid resembles. But somebody who saw this photo of me recently insists it looks just like Mason, and I am forced to agree. Of course, I can't come up with a photo of her where she is making the same face I am making, but I assure you she does make that face. What say you all?

Please bypass this post.

All right, a promise is a promise. I promised Kate she'd see some Boden pictures, and I've dawdled long enough. Unfortunately (or not, perhaps?) there is only a picture of me wearing one of my items for the following reasons: two of the skirts were too big (!!!!!) and must be returned; some of the items were swimsuits, and it's hysterical if anybody thinks those would get posted; and finally, after taking pictures of this one skirt, I became disgusted with the whole operation and called it quits. Taking pictures of myself was actually a very stressful thing - I ended up discarding many photos because I was standing stupid or making the most retarded face ever. And it made me wonder if I am constantly standing stupid and making retarded faces, and if I am, please don't tell me, or I will never leave the house again.

Deep breath. Here we go:

Yes, I'm standing on my bathtub. No, I don't own a full length mirror. Yes, that's probably why I leave the house looking like I do most of the time. Yes, this is the lamest photo ever since I couldn't even be bothered to shut the medicine cabinet door before acting out my darkest balance beam fears for the camera. Let's move on, shall we? (Ok, so, this is a really cute skirt. I like a lot.)

Here's the one where I felt like an idiot for chopping off my own head in the last picture, and felt like it was a big cop-out to hide in such a way on my own blog, and so here I am. Not hiding at all.

Don't eff with me, man. I'm dangerous. And blurry. And in need of a good night's sleep, and a few minutes to myself for eyebrow grooming. Don't judge.

Ok, enough of all that. Kindly wipe it fromst your memories! Instead, please for to look at my beautiful babies:

Ah yes, that makes it all better, doesn't it? Works for me every time.

Rolling the fortune cookies.

Well, yes, it does. But I don't really see that as a juicy fortune. Let's see if we can do better, hmm?

Um, that's not what I really had in mind.

YES! It's like the cookie sees into my soul.

Speak to me, O Fortune Cookie. I await further orders.

On your third birthday.

I know, I can't believe it either! My little boy is 3. As you are fond of saying, you are "three birthdays" old.

It's been a huge year for you. You started preschool, and made a ton of friends. And they love you! You get hugs from all the girls (and some of your best boy buddies too) when it's time to leave. This is also the year you learned how to: talk, jump, climb, take turns, sit on the potty, and not be frightened of other children. This last one has been a very big deal, believe me. You've learned that Dora and Boots can help you through any tough situation, and they always know the way to the fun parties. Most importantly, I think, is that we've both learned that snuggles are always a good thing to have, and that nobody on this planet snuggles better than you and me. Nobody. Ever.

Life with you is never boring. Most of the time we feel like this:

We're not sure what we gonna get at any given moment, but the packaging is so darn cute we're happy to check it out. Sometimes we get lucky, and we get this:

Calm and easy, even keel. Life is good. And then sometimes we get really lucky, and this happens:

The moments like this are so much fun. Luckily, they're also plentiful. You have such a great laugh! And then, of course, sometimes we hit the jackpot:

Eskimo kisses. Such delicious goodness. Could eat you up. Which is a good thing, because, finally, we often get this:

It's really a good thing I find you adorable, because there are days/nights I might throw you out the window otherwise. I have a feeling that 3 is going to be a harder year than 2, but I can't wait to spend every day of it with you.

You make me very happy, Riley. Remember, no matter how old you are or how big you get, you'll always be my baby boy. Happy Birthday!

Love, Mommy

Top that, Easter Bunny.

Happy Easter week, y'all.

Hillary's not gonna fall for a banana in her tailpipe!

This made my night. You have to constantly refresh, but think of the workout your finger is getting. Go! Run!

My second favorite? Hillary put baby in a corner. Thanks, Kate!

Not much else to blather about, as I must run off and find out who Ben's guy on the boat is. I hope it's Michael, so Sayid can kick his sorry ass. Sayid looks good when kicking ass. KWIM?

Superiority.

I was a gymnast once. Did you know? It's true. Not a very good one, really, because I was afraid* of the vault and balance beam, and I sucked at bars, but I did a decent floor exercise. Anyhow, it was just a few years of my life, but it was lots of fun. And my best friend of the time, Brandi, did gymnastics with me, and I have no problem admitting that she was better than me. Not being afraid of the beam and vault certainly helped.

"What does this all have to do with Old Photo Tuesday, Robyn?" I can hear you asking. Well, Brandi may have been a better gymnast, but I have photographic evidence that I did a better back dive. See?

Look at that form! Brandi is so jealous. I mean, it's not like she was bad. Let's have a look...

No, not bad at all. Still, I had a better arch, didn't I? Let's check again...

Yeah. I rocked the back dive.

And happy Old Photo Tuesday (ahem Wednesday) to all of you! What did you rock at in your youth? I wanna know! (That means leave a comment and tell me, fool.)

*I would like to clarify that being "afraid" of the beam and vault did not mean I cowered in terror or refused to do them. It does mean that my progress on those pieces of equipment was severely limited. Just in case anyone was wondering.

Technical difficulties.

Just wanted to state that Old Photo Tuesday is delayed - for some reason, I am having difficulty uploading images right now. Don't know what's up. It is most certainly user error.

Fear not - I'll do my best to appease the salivating masses awaiting my new content. Pinky swear!

If you need something to do, please for to check out more Better Than Ezra: