"H" is for Hashtags, Hockey and Happiness

My cousin said I needed to blog; said it'd been too long.

Holy crap, over two months?! Maybe she's right.

So, without further ado, and with no real message, outline or agenda, here it is, Cousin H, a random, rambling blog post just for you:

We have a hammock in the backyard now. It was a wedding gift from a dear friend, and it only took us 12 years (almost) to hang it. And, WE LOVE IT!! How's THAT for gift longevity? Note to self: Fastest way to get hubby to do manly, power tool stuff? Send text asking where the drill is and what, exactly a 3/16" drill bit is and how to tell if you're drilling backwards. :)

No matter how much one enjoys wine, there is a point at which dumping it down the sink is no longer a big deal. Serious. It happens here all the time, and I'm TOTALLY ok with it. (I reserve the right to amend this statement if hubby ever stops selling wine for a living.)

Reading has finally clicked for Princess, and she LOVES reading to us in the aforementioned hammock. I can't believe she is going to be in second grade. The days are long, but the years fly by.

I think draft beer makes me have nightmares. What is happening to me? This is not normal, right?

In January, I "resolved" to make 2011 the "Year of No". Somehow, I'm busier than ever. A gentle reminder of why I hate New Year's Resolutions, and should never make any again. Ever.

My increased Twitter activity has me in a constant state of "hashtag speak" - #iwanttostop but it's #toomuchfun

Game 7 of the Stanley Cup playoffs is tonight, and despite the fact that my Red Wings have been hittin' the links for a few weeks now, all day I've had this apprehensive excitement because, tomorrow, I know, there will be no hockey ... #sad #whendoesnextseasonstart (See? I can't stop)

Our Nana (and the BIGGEST Mavs fan on the planet), apparently has a T-shirt, that she wears as a nightshirt, that says "Dirkalicious". I find this somewhat disturbing.

My Little Man got a haircut yesterday (LOTS cut off), and he looks so old. Sigh. Too fast ... too soon ...

Princess made me a bird feeder for Mother's Day, and it's taught us that, in our backyard anyway, Blue Jays - while very pretty - are mean, mean birds. They're like that popular group of girls in high school that believe they rule the school, won't share, and posses that sense of entitlement that makes you want to smack the shit out of them. And, they make this territorial screeching sound that makes me want to pluck their feathers out one-by-one until they stop. #iwouldneverdothat

A very dear friend is dealing with the reality of her dad's stage 4 cancer. She's strong and loving and wonderful, and it breaks my heart to see her go through this knowing there are no words that can lessen her aching heart. It makes me think about you, H, and how very much I know you miss your dad. For what it's worth, I miss him every day, too.

Truth: Baseball, for me, is still hard to watch without missing Dopper. A LOT. Such vivid memories of summer nights at the ballpark with him growing up. I can't believe it's been two years. Can you even imagine the parties he and your dad are throwing up in heaven? Oh the trouble those two are undoubtedly causing ...

There was a topic trending last night on Twitter, it was #iamhappiestwhen, so it got me thinking - and here are just a few of my "I am happiest when ...":

I hear my kids say, "I love you". To anyone. Can you imagine a world without it? #nothanks
My husband smiles at me.
My kids make each other belly laugh.
I can provide a smile, a hug or an encouraging word to help make a friends day a little brighter.
My kids ask to cuddle.

So there you have it, H. FYI - as it turns out - I've missed my blog, so thanks for making me visit. xo