Lydiot.

In high school, a friend came up with this really cool nickname for me.
Lydiot.
Lydia + Idiot. You get it.

Well, today I am totally living up to the name.

Sullivan wakes me up at 1:30 AM. I give him his pacifier, go back to bed, look for something on Netflix to fall asleep to (I have to sleep with the tv on, especially if Josh is gone), and guess what happened?
I get sucked into this Candace Cameron Bure movie. Please, do not even hate on CCB...That's my girl. But this is 100% not my type of movie.

Or so I thought.
So, then, it's 3:30 AM. COOL.
Sullivan has consistently been waking between 4-5 and I hardly feel tired now.
So I stay up.
I have been awake since 1:30 AM. WHY. What is wrong with me?

I feel like when I get any possible "alone time" it is really hard for me to reject it. (Um, clearly.)
My days are ruled by blocks, boogers, milk spills, a crying (seemingly forever teething) baby, and a twonager. (Is that a thing? I see people say "threenager", but Tatum apparently missed the memo on how she is supposed to just throw full out tantrums and skipped right on ahead to backtalk and sass.)

So, basically, I'm terrified that today might be awful now.
Crossing my fingers that I can get over myself and make it a good day.

1 more sleep until Josh is home. *Hallelujah chorus*

1995 "got milk" commercial.

A few weeks ago I posted on Facebook that this "Got milk?" television commercial from the year 1995, randomly popped into my head.
Like, I'm sitting watching tv, and BOOM.
But...no one cared. Literally no one.

Actually, I think my uncle commented on it.

Here's what gets me.
It's not that no one cared. (I'm not THAT much of an attention whore.)
It's that I cared so much about this weirdo commercial, that it is randomly popping into my head, ALMOST TWENTY YEARS LATER.
I just really want to know why it made such an impact, y'all.

sullivan is almost one.

Let's see if I can write through Sullivan's jabbering. (Uh, wtf, dude? Doesn't bedtime mean anything to you? Oh...no? Okay, cool.)

Just kidding. I do not have the patience for that business.
So, I rocked him for a bit.
It IS his birthday week...I guess I can be nice. BUT JUST THIS ONCE.

On that note: It's his birthday week, you guys. How?
I haven't freaked out like I did with Tatum's first, but I'm sure it's coming. I mean, it's me we're talking about. Come on.
I actually have cried a couple of times, but LOL, like that's a surprise. I just teared up at a Life Alert commercial, so.

I feel like he has physically changed way more than Tatum did in her first year.
She was still looking super babyish when he was born.
He's way more toddler than baby to me. I was robbed. He basically came out as a six month old. Not cool.

I almost have two toddlers, people!

i'm basically a chef now.

I'm a baker, by nature.

I'm fairly good at it, and I've always liked it. Cooking, though, has always been pretty much foreign to me. For years now, I've been interested in the idea of cooking, but only occasionally have I actually dabbled in it.
This is one of the things that I've always had a hang up with, in regards to myself.
So, a few weeks ago, I decided that cooking was where I wanted to start, in order to try to make a change in my life. (Longer story, another day, perhaps.)

For three weeks now, I've been cooking, and surprise (not): I really love it.
I know my place...in the kitchen. (Ha.)
But seriously, I really do feel that cooking/baking are almost like a form of therapy for me. It makes me happy. I'm being productive. We get good food out of it.

Win/win/win, y'all.

Here are some things that I've made that we really loved:

Goulash--Tatum loves this word. Everyday when I say, "Guess what we're having for lunch/dinner?" She chants, "Goo-lawsh! Goo-lawsh!" (No, we do not eat it everyday.)

Coconut chicken--With this one, I didn't make the dipping sauce, and I did change up the chicken a tiny bit, but basically we had chicken strips, breaded in coconut, and it was amazing. I did make a sauce...It was mayo, honey, franks hot sauce, salt, curry powder...All to taste.

Sloppy joes--I'd made sloppy joes before (helloooo), but never homemade, so I was really interested in trying these. Basically everything in this recipe I just did to taste, except for the couple of things that she gives a set amount for. So, if you try it, just use the ingredients as a guide. I'm pretty certain you can't screw it up.
: )

Salsa verde chicken--This recipe, you guys. I am just so obsessed with how easy, but delicious it is! Four ingredients, less than five minutes to prep, then 20 (if that?) minutes in the oven just to let it warm, get the cheese melty. This is the perfect "in a rush" dinner.

on pet goldfish and their untimely deaths.

On Thursday afternoon, we went on for a little family date.
The main event, though, was getting Tatum her first pet. She knew going into it that we were getting goldfish, but that didn't stop her from begging for a bearded dragon. ("She loves me, mama!")
Can't blame a girl for trying.

So, we got three little goldfish. Initially she refused to name them. That went like this:

Me: What about Dora?
T: No.
Me: Peppa?
T: No.
Me: George?
T: No.
Me: Nose?
T: Nose. ...No.

That actually happened, the whole nose thing. I couldn't believe my luck.

The next day we finally decided on the names Big Mama, Dora, and Peppa. She later renamed Dora, exchanging that for George. And still later, she explained to me that George is actually her, but as a fish. (Oh.)

Fast forward to last night.
We get home from barbecuing with Josh's parents...all fish are alive and well...put kids to bed...Dora/George/fish version of Tatum is now dead.
Oh, cool.
I mean, we obviously expected it, but really?
The plan was to just replace it without her noticing, but the pet store didn't open until 11 today and Josh had to leave town at 10. So, her fish is currently on a little adventure.
Luckily, she expects nothing. She actually told me she'll just take a new one. Heartless.

RIP fish, RIP.

blogs schmogs.

I've been blogging for half of my life. Um, what? I just realized this, literally one minute ago.
I started blogging when I was 12 years old, on good ol' Xanga. (RIP, Xanga. ...Let's be real.)
And I blogged there until I was like...18? And then I used Tumblr. And then I moved to this blog right here when I was 19 years old.
Maybe this isn't actually weird, and me thinking it's weird, is what's weird.

ANYWAY.

I never cared about my "voice" until blogging became, like, a thing.
And some days I felt like I wanted to be able to just "talk."
And other times I felt like I wasn't good enough because I didn't sound like a real writer.
And this is probably the millionth time I've blogged about my blogging voice.
But I think I for real, finally, once again, am not worried about this.

I think that I used to be just...so focused on wanting to be seen and be somebody.I guess I forgot that I already am somebody.
I may not ever get a book deal because of my blog, or be featured in a magazine, or a documentary, or whatthehellever.
But maybe I make a friend. Or brighten a day. Or piss somebody off because I say what I think. I like all of that stuff...Because it probably means I'm being real***, not forcing myself into this weird mold of what I thought a blogger should be.

Do I even make sense? (This is my catchphrase, guys.)

I guess I'm just glad I'm done taking blogging so seriously.
Because...no one cares. They really, truly don't.

***Please don't take this the wrong way. Obviously the other stuff doesn't mean that you AREN'T being real. This is regarding myself.

guess who's back...back again...

Lyddie's back...tell a friend.

Well. That was embarrassing.
But seriously, tell your friends about my blog and how cool I am, guys.

So, in my absence, guess what I did?

I legitimately created 4 new blogs. Seriously.
"What is wrong with you, Lydia?" If only I knew.

I was like, "Lyds Was Here is so stale. I need something fresh!" So, at first I was going to go a whole new blogging direction. But then I didn't want to be limited. (Unliiiimited!) So I had to start over (logic, hello).
So I did. Then, it was that my blog name was stupid. Can't have that, duh. So, again. And then I was like, "Starting over is hard. And boring."
And here we are...It feels right. Don't you think?

What else?

+ I have an almost 2.5 year old.
+ I have an almost 1 year old.
+ We moved back to our hometown for a few months.
+ We are moving BACK to Springfield in June/July.
+ I've been baking a lot.
+ I've had the most difficult season of my life. No joke.
+ I got a new tattoo.
+ I've been reading a lot.
+ And probably loads of other stuff, because it's been a minute.

Oh. And my "real" computer is currently broken. So, for now, things will be camera phone/no pictures heavy. I hope you can hang. <3>