It's her party, and I'll cry if I want to

Even this party planning committee would be in
hell trying to find a space for a 3-year-old's party.

I am currently in the throes of planning L.'s third birthday party. It's kind of awful. When the fiance set out to finish the basement, I was told there was a good chance it would be done by the end of February, early March at the latest. Well, there was a snag when the guy who was supposed to hook up the heat had to get surgery on his hand and we now have no idea when it will be done.

Our upstairs is way too small for 15 adults and 5 children. Heck, when we have a simple playdate, it seems crowded!

We recently went to a birthday party for one of Layla's friends and the condo had a nice open floorplan, perfect for kettling little ones, while keeping the parents on the sidelines to act as ropes in a wrestling ring and bounce them back in.

So, last night, about four hours were spent on Google looking for a space to hold L.'s "The Lorax" themed birthday. Holy. Moly. First off, let's put some things into perspective:

Kicking butt

I recently took a new job, hence the lack of posts in the past month.

I've learned with myself that if there's a big change in my life, I need to give myself time to adjust. Maybe it's my INTJ personality, or maybe I've just learned that I adjust better when I can focus all of my energy on something, rather than just trying to get it to "fit in" with everything else I have going on.

But, enough of the reasoning/excuses.

I want to talk about another recent change. And, to be honest, I can see it being controversial, at best. Especially since the change I made impacted something I was very private about to begin with. Something I don't like to admit, but feel I should.

Only in the '80s could parents
take a photo like this and have
it be considered "funny."

 I am was a smoker.

Let's start way back ...

Well, not that far back.

Back when I was in college. My freshman year. I was on my winter break and I had $5 to my name. I could either use that to get something to eat and worry about starving for the rest of the week and mooching off my parents for food, or, as a friend put it, I could buy a pack of cigarettes and the hunger would go away.