My name is Boom.

New Years Obsessions.

2012-01-03T11:19:00.000-08:00

Here are my obsessions so far in 2012. Three days in, and I can't get enough of SHELLAC. Shellac nail polish. The indestructable manicure!

I NEVER wear polish on my hands, because I am VERY rough on my hands. I am the household handyman, butt wiper, chef (washing hands after butt wiping of course), dog handler, landscaper and puller-outer-of-crap-beneath-the-couch. I have gnarled, beaten man-hands and don't even bother to put a shade of color on my fingernails.

BUT ALL OF THAT HAS CHANGED.

I got a Shellac manicure with bright red polish on the morning of Christmas Eve...a treat to myself after weeks of hard labor. I had heard it would last up to two weeks, yet I scoff at claims such as these. Any 'indestructable' manicure that has ever been invented has been tried by me, AND IT HAS FAILED. I even had fake nails for a little while...which had my nails looking like New Jersey talons and left me with sad, weak, sorry nailbeds upon their removal.

My manicure lasted a week before one nail chipped...which was MAJORLY impressive for me!! I am shocked looking at my hands, donning color for the first time since my high school Prom night.

SECONDLY, I am obsessed with Matt Papa and his music. WOOOO, that boy can sing. He goes to our church and his awesome music gets to be a part of our worship services on a regular basis. If you're dorked out by Christian music, Matt Papa is a great place to start. I love his song "Open Hands" and "It is Finished"...just about every song on EVERY album is great, though. Look him up on iTunes!

THIRDLY, I am obsessing about organizing this house. Is it too early to start Spring cleaning? There is something about the removal of the tree, the influx of new gifts, the abundance of un-read toy instruction manuals and the cold, indoor weather that gets me itching to clean everything out! I wish we had ourselves a Container Store in this one-horse town. I'd be all up in it.

Trivial. Selfish. Idol-Loving.

2011-12-23T04:11:00.000-08:00

I was cruising through some blogs this morning (something I haven't done in forever) and realized several things:

1. EVERYONE has a blog. I mean, seriously...EVERYONE. One friend's blog lead to a link of another, where I saw the links of a hundred others...it was unbelievable. It made me wonder what everyone is doing this for? Does everyone use it as a way to keep up with family and friends? Or maybe to chronicle memories? To preach the gospel directly or indirectly? To boost their ego by gaining followers and comments? How do I MYSELF use my blog?

Well, the truth is, I DON'T use my blog. Not right now anyways. Moving on.

2. I am not a preacher or a pastor and I don't feel qualified to tell people how to apply the gospel to their lives and their parenting. I don't write about faith topics, generally speaking. I tackle the trivial. I am a dry humored (mostly sarcastic), silly, materialistic, opinionated, high-maintenance, frivolous, selfish and an idol-loving girl. I am fallen, and am the worst kind of sinner...I know the truth of the gospel, the truth of my condition, and sometimes I don't feel desperate for Him. AT ALL. I more often feel desperate for ice cream, a shopping trip, a glass of wine, a babysitter, a makeover, the couch after the kids are in bed (they just woke up for the day and already I'm looking forward to 8:15 pm). I even write these truths and have a hope in my heart that SOMEONE will write to say "you're not ANY of those things...you're AWESOME!" My security and identity aren't grounded in Jesus as much as they should be and I think my blog reflects that. I am convicted about the tone of my writing. I feel ashamed of it.

3. I have a lot to say, but I don't write it because I'm embarrassed to let people see the real me. So, I either write posts about how great everything is, OR I don't write at all. I mean, how much can be written about the school play or the field trip to the zoo or the super fun family day where we made play-doh and held hands and went to the playground and ate s'mores and read stories together and made super messy crafts that involve paint and toddlers and I AM SO JOYFUL IT DIDN'T BUG ME and then we talked about Jesus and held hands some more? This feels like a lie to me and I can't do it....unless I post one or two down-and-dirty, real-life entries to balance it out (about how I made my child cry because I was so terribly mean, and then she said "I'm so sorry you're having a hard time, Mommy" as she patted my back and I wanted to kill myself dead.) So, as of late, I've opted to write nothing. I think in my heart I'd like to reserve this space to dump out the garbage of my soul and not feel like I'm going to have to discuss it in the carpool line a couple of days later.

4. What is WRONG with me?? That last point is just flat out messed up. It sort of makes me sound like I'm running a meth lab in the kids' playroom! Which is ridiculous!! Because we don't have a playroom. Truly, I have nothing to hide. My life is average, my struggles are common, I'm meth-lab free and my heart is right where Jesus wants it. I am so aware that I need Him I might as well have a neon sign blinking in my front yard. I just don't do the right things to remedy that need most of the time.

5. I love to read good blog posts on Godly living, Jesus-centered mommyhood, Christ-like living, flat out devotionals with Bible excerpts...all of it. I need those good posts and crave that kind of writing frequently. I am GRATEFUL for people who can speak into my life through their writing and lead me back to Jesus.

6. I also really like to read blogs of families and friends that I know personally. I like to see what they're up to and look at their pictures and read about their children. I like to hear the voice of a dear friend in my ear as I read her blog and feel like we're talking to one another. My KIDS love to read those blogs with me...and I LOVE that, too.

7. Additionally, I crave sites that are gossipy, trivial, art-focused, design-loving, sarcasm-riddled, visually-stunning, TV-loving, a wee-bit-materialistic and funny-as-hell writing. Sadly, I think my desire for a blog falls MORE into THIS category...and, I worry that as people read the dark contents of my shallow soul, I will lead people AWAY from the cross instead of TOWARDS it.

Because I like to drop in once a year.

2011-08-21T11:04:00.001-07:00

My 17-year-old niece is headed off to New York for the semester and started up her new blog: http://jennahutchie.blogspot.com . Her immediate enthusiasm to blog about her upcoming adventure made me want to crank out a new post. First and foremost to tell you to follow her on her fun adventure!! Pray for her, too...I want her covered in prayer before she even steps off of the plane.

Oh, and my 15-year-old nephew just left for boarding school for the first time EVER. Could you pray for him, too? He needs the prayers just as much...for a fresh start and a successful year.

And lastly, could you pray that I can get off my behind and get something done around here? I came up to my office to CLEAN it and to begin the project of re-upholstering these awesome chairs I bought. But, instead of coming up to do my WORK I got distracted by that 'ding!' of new emails arriving. (side note: I have no experience in this particular type of upholsteration--is that a word?--and probably should not attempt it, but have already purchased some fabric anyhow because LACK OF SKILL HAS NEVER STOPPED ME BEFORE.)

I love writing about my kids and certainly want to journal some more about them...they are why I started this blog and why I want to carry it on. HOWEVER. I have had the itch lately to write about my crazy house projects. Lately I have: installed a glass shower door, put in a new kitchen faucet, made and installed garage cabinets, re-wired a chandelier, turned a farm sink into a party cooler/table, and trimmed the hair around my dog's butt. The latter of which I won't be writing about here, lucky for you. But let me tell you that if you're THINKING of trimming your dog's butt hair, you might want to send me an email to ask for some pro advice and then invest in a pair of latex gloves and some very very small, sharp scissors. Here's your first tip, and this one's a freebie: dog's don't like it when you head towards their anus with a pair of large, dull kitchen drawer scissors.

More later.

I DID IT!!

2011-03-03T09:04:00.001-08:00

I can hardly believe it, but I DID it. I finished a half marathon and I never stopped running ONCE (though I did slow down to put icy hot on both legs).

Disclaimer: It's neither here nor there that I ran so slow that many fast walkers could probably have overtaken me. I. NEVER. STOPPED. RUNNING.

I finished in 2 hours and 40 minutes. And OOOooooh, I got a shiny, pretty medal! It hangs on the lamp right beside my computer in the office. It is a reminder of just how much I can endure...and what I can do if I put my mind to it.

My two children are a reminder of that as well...you know, the whole childbirth thing. YES, I'm comparing a half marathon to childbirth. Truthfully, I knew that I wouldn't DIE during the half marathon, I just sort of wanted someone to kill me. On the other hand, during childbirth I truly DID think that I might die, AND simultaneously I wanted someone to kill me. Also, I wanted someone to kill my husband. And one of the nurses. Anyone can see the similarities.

If you can look past a few hours of suffering (and a 3 am wake up call), the Disney Half Marathon might be the most fun race out there. There was non-stop entertainment from start to finish, not to mention the ridiculous costumes. I think I was the only person wearing regular old running clothes....I was too scared to wear ANYTHING bizarre, knowing that it would probably irritate me by mile two and I'd end up crossing the finish line naked.

You can see some good shots of the race from start to finish here...though I will say these particular photos give the impression that it was a spacious race. Let me tell you, it was NOT. There were 11,000 runners there. And for much of the race it seemed as if all 11,000 had elected to wear giant fairy wings in order to poke me in the neck continuously as I suffered. Ugh.

I'm still recovering...and already thinking about next year's race!!

These shoes.

2011-02-21T15:53:00.000-08:00

Here are my new shoes! I got them (in turquoise and grey, actually) because I needed some new running shoes.

I need some new running shoes because I signed up for a half marathon...way back in October. I signed up for this PARTICULAR half marathon for lots of reasons:

The race was in Disney World.
I was going to run with a group of FUN girlfriends.
We were going to wear tiaras and tutus.
I was going to train hard and work hard and FINISH the half marathon as a runner!
The race was in Disney World.
I heard Pooh and Donald jump out of trees along the course and give you water.
I might get a cool shirt. And a drink of water from Tigger.

Well, the tutus and tiaras thing got thrown out the window pretty quickly...my friends are a bunch of lame-o's that said they didn't care to have a custom-made satiny princess running costume adorn their sweaty bodies on the day of the race. LAME. Truthfully? I think everyone was bitter because I called Jasmine (we both look great in turquoise.)

Some friends dropped out, new friends popped up, one friend said she would only run 13 miles if someone was chasing her with a knife. SOooo. We booked our tickets to head south. Training would begin in the first of December! I was nervous to have even signed UP for such a ridiculous thing. I jumped right in, despite nerves, and started with a 10K race in Raleigh. I did well and was feeling confident.

Everything changed when I broke my foot on the tennis court in the beginning of November. I fractured a bone on the top of my foot for no good reason at all and messed up all of the ligaments surrounding it. The diagnosis was fine, I healed up just as I was supposed to...but by the time I was allowed to run again, I had only three weeks to train.

Maybe I should have gone hardcore at the start of that three week period, but I didn't. My first attempt to go for a run was discouraging...and a little painful. I feel disappointed and even a little bit annoyed. I mean, I'm FLYING to FLORIDA, signed up for my first HALF MARATHON...and I'll probably have to walk a good chunk of it?! I could have just stayed here and saved myself the money. I probably even could have talked my husband into putting on his Tigger costume and giving me a drink of water to cheer me up.

(Have you SEEN our furry, hooded, adult-sized matching Pooh and Tigger costumes? That's another post for another time.)

All of that to say, I'm trying to have a good attitude about it all. I'm looking forward to seeing good friends and laughing a whole lot. I suppose I am glad I won't be wearing a tutu (chaffing). I love my new shoes. I am thankful that I will be able to finish at all!

I leave in five days.

The Dream Gala.

2011-02-16T17:46:00.001-08:00

Kidzu is a small children's museum in downtown Chapel Hill that is looking to expand in a monumental way. They are having a super swank black tie event...'The Dream Gala'... on April 9. I am signed on as a decorations/design person on the Dream Gala committee. So, that basically means I go to a bunch of meetings and I'm a part of a team working to make the event look and feel pretty cool.

I have started by designing the logo and the invitations, which are still a work in progress. It's just about there, though.

The centerpiece idea I have is one of those that sounds really great UNTIL YOU TRY TO MAKE THIRTY OF THEM. It involves hot gluing lots of old toys and books together and then PAINTING said booktoy blob. Don't ask.

I'll keep you posted on the happenings, but you can visit our very empty blog here. So far it has the logo up (but I need to swap it out for a better one) and aside from that, so far, it remains EMPTY. Once I have a moment away from gluing booktoypaint blobs maybe I'll write something.

Thoughts on the Superbowl (which have nothing to do with football)

2011-02-07T12:25:00.001-08:00

Everyone who knows me knows full well that I am not interested in the SuperBowl outside of the food, beer and good commercials. Now that we've gotten that cleared up, let's move on.

I was listening to the TV this morning as they discussed the SuperBowl at length....the commercials, the performances, and of course the NATIONAL ANTHEM. After I saw Christina mess up the lyrics, I instantly pitied her. And I sort of wanted to change the channel. It's exactly what I used to do every time things went awry on Three's Company. The awkwardness would overtake my very body and I couldn't continue on with my life.

Anyhow, they were rambling on about how she messed it up, she didn't sing it well, and ALSO, something was wrong with Fergie's microphone, don't you bet THAT guy got fired...blah blah blah. It occurred to me that nobody has an ounce of grace in this country anymore. So she forgot the words? So what. It stinks for her, but to take up arms about it and to call her names and say it's an 'abomination'? Ridiculous. So Fergie's microphone didn't work. SO WHAT. There are humans running the microphones and humans MAKE MISTAKES.

It isn't any wonder our courts are overloaded with ridiculous court cases and ambulance chasers. Our young girls are starving themselves in pursuit of 'perfection'. Suicides are on the rise with students who can't take the pressure. Andn then there's my own stupid depression over an extra ten (or twenty) pounds.

We're obsessed with perfection. And we delight in the misfortune of others (myself, sadly, included). It would be refreshing, one day, to hear someone on TV say, "too bad she made a mistake. That's pretty embarassing, but it happens to the best of us. In OTHER news...."

Remodeling.

2011-02-04T05:34:00.000-08:00

Maybe I should call it 're-decorating'? Either way, that's what I'm up to. Or, as I like to call it, 'what a girl turns to when shopping for clothes becomes a source of depression'.

I've up-heaved the whole downstairs of our house and the change has been DRAMATIC. It all started with these chairs I found at a consignment store:

Now, I know what you're thinking, (because pretty much every friend of mine who saw the chairs right after I bought them told me as much). You're thiking, "Yeah, those are awesome. If you're trying to re-create the movie set of Weekend at Bernie's." Well, they struck me as more 'Boogie Nights', but that's neither here nor there.

YES, the fabric was atrocious. But I could see past that. YES, the table was overkill, but luckily they didn't make me take that with me (even though they made me PAY for it). It was the CHAIRS I fell in love with. Lately these lucite-ish chairs are absolutely everywhere in design...and they AREN'T cheap.

In fact, I found a pair of my EXACT chairs on 1stdibs.com (the most drool-tastic site EVER), and GUESS WHAT THEY ARE SELLING FOR? $2200. For two.

Guess how much I paid for mine? I haggled them down to $125. For all SIX chairs.

Can someone hand me my horn? Because I'd like to toot it, please.

There is something about me that can't help sharing with EVERYONE how much I paid for something when I get a great deal. "Nice purse!" they might say, in passing. Which, in turn, might lead to me saying, "OH REALLY YOU LIKE IT BECAUSE GUESS WHAT, I USED THREE COUPONS AT CHECKOUT AND IT WAS ALREADY 40% OFF SO I GOT IT FOR THIRTY-SEVEN DOLLARS AND TWENTY-TWO CENTS WHICH IS CRAZY BECAUSE IT'S ALL LEATHER, RIGHT?!" Chris thinks I should just keep my yap closed and let everyone believe I paid hand over fist for everything...but I really think he'd just like to me to keep it closed in general. Let's call that what it is.

Let's get back on track. So, blah blah blah, one thing leads to another, I finally find the right fabric, I sew the cording myself (!!), re-upholster the chairs myself (!!), polish up the chrome and lucite (made Chris help with that part) and TAA-DAA!! The finished product. I think they're sweet.

P.S. See that turquoise-ish filigree mirror in the background? Goodwill. $20. It used to be a hideous forest green with metallic gold accents. But THAT is another post for another time.

Piizza Wiiza Night

2011-01-21T03:55:00.000-08:00

I REALIZE that we're a little behind here, but I'm happy to announce that we got a Wii for Christmas! In case you've been living in the dark ages right along with us, allow me to highly recommend it...for all people, everywhere, all the time. But I especially recommend it for people with smaller children. It's a game that everyone can play together, and it's actually FUN (even for the grown ups).

We've decided to make Friday nights Piizza Wiiza night. The kids think this is absolutely the most fun-filled concept on earth, and I love it because it gives me an excuse to order pizza once a week! It's just as it sounds: we eat pizza, we play wii, we prevent children from flinging remotes at each others' heads, we eat some more pizza.

Our favorite game to play as a family is Wii Party. It's a GREAT family game...the best one I've encountered so far. We love some of the Wii Sports games and I think we've played (and enjoyed) Ping Pong on Wii Resort, also.

I scoured the internet to find some Wii games that were appropriate for kids (ages 4 and up), not LAME, and good for a family that is not terribly video game-savvy. Based on reviews, I came up with Wii Party and Scooby Doo. We're obsessed with Wii Party, but Scooby Doo is another story. My kids can't figure out how to get to the next level...and neither can I?! Scooby is endlessly stuck in some graveyard, hopping around in circles. It's sort of deflating.

Do you know of any Wii games that we MUST own? What do you and your kids like? What do you like to do with your spouse and/or friends (on the Wii, pervert!)? I wouldn't mind getting some fun grown up games, too.

I'm the White J-Hud

2011-01-20T13:15:00.000-08:00

Seriously, this new Weight Watchers point system is making me MAD. It's very anti-carb this time around! Why do they keep switching it up on me? And what in the world does everyone in the world have against the blessed carbohydrates?

So you'd THINK you just get to eat stuff wrapped in bacon all the live long day, right? THINK AGAIN. They've high-pointed the fattening stuff, too! It's totally driving my every food choice to FRUITS and VEGETABLES. It's sabotage.

Day Four and I hate this. I'm a big old complainer. The first week back is the worst.

With one finger in the air, I hereby vow to not complain (as much) in future posts. I'm going to turn the corner today!! I WILL EMBRACE THE CELERY! I AM THE WHITE J-HUD!!!

(that was my POINTER finger in the air, FYI.)

Back on the Wagon. Again.

2011-01-20T13:04:00.000-08:00

Well, I've gained a full TWENTY pounds since I hit my goal weight at Weight Watchers back in 2006, and I've recently found myself back on the WW bandwagon.

I hate this stupid vegetable-filled wagon.

Is there anyone who really LIKES to eat healthy foods? Speak up. I need to know who you are so I can hang out with you more often. Because when I look at a bowl of salad, all I see is a bowl full of suffering. And stupid vegetables.

My doctor agreed with me that I am overweight and could stand to lose 15 or 20 pounds. She told me to get rid of things with white flour and things with sugar and just CARBS in general. Not an out-and-out Atkins plan, mind you...just a SEVERE cutback, if you will.

My doctor is an encouraging, bright-eyed 105-pound woman who assures me that I CAN DO THIS. I think she only said that because was scared I'd sit on her if she was in any way discouraging. (She told me to cut back on the beer and dessert and it didn't go over well.)

So, I've started. I'm three days in. And today I'd like to cut my arm off, swaddle it in a giant hot dog bun and eat it for dinner.

How a boy grows up.

2010-12-22T16:20:00.000-08:00

I was talking with a friend today about the particular challenges one has while raising a boy to be a man. And, when I say I'd like my son to be a man, I'm saying nothing about his character...and everything about the living, breathing qualities that a man posesses. I'd like my son to survive so he can REACH manhood, you know? I'm shooting low, here.

I'm probably being a little dramatic, as my little buddy hasn't really set any fires or severed any limbs YET. But there is something about a boy...my boy...that seems to lack control. I told my friend some advice that a neighbor passed along (a mother of two rowdy boys herself). She said, "you can discipline till you're blue in the face but sometimes with boys, you just have to wait until they're mature enough to get it and APPLY it." We pondered this tidbit of wisdom as we watched the boys pig pile each other in the middle of a filthy arcade floor.

So I guess...we just wait. For the maturity to sink in. For the light bulb to go off when they realize that their brain controls their limbs. That playing by the rules ends up working in their favor in the end. That the stove is hot. That the Tran*sformers will break if thrown against the tile floor repeatedly. That every single solitary floor in public USA, be it in a restaurant, theater, church, toy store or library, is DISGUSTING and they shouldn't crawl on it, eat food from it or attempt to rub their face on it. For the realization that bodies aren't invincible and scooters aren't weapons. And that pencils, tennis balls, forks, library books, flashlights, mommy's hairspray and anything from the recycling bin does NOT qualify as a weapon, either. And that toilets flush.

I woke up this morning and remembered vividly that in the night my husband sneezed--TWICE--in my face. I yelled at him, told him he was a maniacal animal, asked him to cover his mouth and roll over, and, in his zombie-like state, he did. Upon recalling this incident this morning, my husband snorted with laughter in his cereal...and truly, he hasn't stopped laughing all day long. OH how he wishes there was a video of me getting sneezed on! OH how hilarious that would be!! Har har har. Meanwhile I've had to dunk my head in boiling water to remove his snotty spray of germs. If there is anything less fun than being sneezed on TWICE, I don't even want to know about it.

Actually, I DO want to know about it, so I can do it to HIM tonight while he sleeps.

So, anyways, here's my point: I guess we'll have to wait longer for that maturity to sink in. Longer than I thought.

A baking tip, from me to you.

2010-12-03T03:48:00.000-08:00

The Biscuit turned SIX this past summer, and was adamant about having a birthday party AT HOME. I'm not sure why that sounded so appealing to her, but I went with it. We had an arts and crafts kind of party, and the girls just sort of ran around outside for most of it.

She was also adamant about having a $45 D*airy Q*ueen T*inkerbell cake. And I, as you might imagine, was adamant about not paying $45 for a birthday cake.

So, I decided to try and re-create the cake myself. And in my opinion, it looked like a purple trainwreck....the tackiest birthday cake I had ever seen. I was sort of embarassed to take it out of the fridge.

SHE, however, thought this cake was SPECTACULAR. She told all of her friends that HER MOM MADE IT and her friends were in AWE. Now, this cake was not really that cute...it baffled me that she loved it so. Finally, I realized the trick, and I'm about to share it with you: the ultimate birthday cake baking tip!

Are you ready? Because HERE IT IS: If your cake is hideous, just JAM a few toy figurines into it! I could have slathered corn chowder on that cake and the girls would have thought it marvelous....only because they couldn't take their little eyeballs off of those toy fairy dolls (whose legs were washed, shaved, and then shoved into the cake, knee-high.)

Heed my advice and save yourself a lot of time and a lot of money spent on decorative icing tubes.

Getting the itch to write again.

2010-12-02T07:54:00.000-08:00

That title just sounds gross. But it is what it IS, people. I've been thinking about coming back to blogging recently, a hobby I abruptly abandoned over a year ago.

I started to blog with the intention of making a book to document our lives together....a keepsake, if you will. I imagined it would be my way of "scrapbooking" for my kids. I tried to do the photos-in-a-book thing, with crafty papers and such, and it just took too long for the overwhelming amount of photos I take. OR, for the amount of photos I was taking AT THE TIME. At this point, my kids could shake hands with Tom Hanks and I'd still be too lazy to get out the good camera.

At some point, blogging turned into something else all together, and as suddenly as it changed, just as suddenly I was turned off by it all. I wanted followers, I wanted readers, I wanted to write something funny and witty and interesting. The truth was (and is), our every day life isn't always funny or interesting, and my filter started to weed out our memories according to what might be "fun to read".

So from here on out I'm going to document our days as such:

DECEMBER 2, 2010:

6:32 am: Waking up too early, waking up of sibling and subsequent consequence
7:25 am: Breakfast of bacon and eggs, burned the bacon, nailed the eggs
7:47 am: Fighting over getting dressed
7:53 am: Can't find shoes that fit
8:05 am: Lunchboxes put in backpacks
8:08 am: Arguing over necessity of coats, outerwear, etc.

...and so on and so forth.

Well, maybe I'll try and spice it up a WEE bit. My kids are hilarious, and I'm in a peaceful place for the first time in many years of unrest. I miss writing about it all.

This one's for YOU, Sam.

2009-09-13T18:56:00.000-07:00

Well, as luck would have it, we came home from dinner tonight to find out that Arnold ate the head off of our son's Batman toy.

Yeah, yeah, the dog is kind of funny in this one. But sadly, the REALLY funny part I didn't capture on tape. My son yelled out from upstairs, "ARNOLD ATE MY BATMAN TOY!", and instantly that bad dog's ears went back and he stopped dead. in. his. tracks. You've never seen a guiltier dog in the world.

My favorite part about this video in particular is the background track of my son RANTING about the 'BAD DOG'. You can hear him complaining to anyone who will listen (which, at the time, was nobody), declaring among other things, that there will be "NO SHOW" for Arnold.

As you can see, Arnold is VERY depressed that he won't be getting a TV show before bed.

P.S. And I promise, after this? I will stop posting about this dumb dog. Who is sitting right beside me on the couch. Watching A SHOW.

LAZY

2009-09-12T10:43:00.000-07:00

I am so lazy these days.

Exhausted and just plain old TIRED.

Ready for a close-eyed REST at all times.

It's during phases like these in my life when I really wholeheartedly cannot tolerate long blog posts. I'll just take one look at a blog entry with over 10 paragraphs and just CLOSE DOWN THE BROWSER. Even after a cup of coffee and a can of DPeps...I can't summon the strength.

I'd like to take this moment to kick a shout out to all of my big old lazies like me, who've got a nap in their near future, who just don't have the TIME for the long blog post.

THIS is my gift to you.

Julie & Julia: No spoilers here.

2009-09-10T05:48:00.001-07:00

I saw Julie & Julia tonight, and I really loved it. It was a great story, it definitely made me hungry, made me feel inadequate in the kitchen...but gave me NO desire to buy the cookbook.

Now that I've told you how much I loved it, here's what bugged me about the movie: the Stanley Tucci role. He played the part of Julia's husband. I do not feel he did a bad job acting, I just don't think he LOOKED the part.

Instead of looking like her doting husband, (who was, in reality, 10 years her senior and fairly matched in the looks department), he instead looked like a shiny, golden tanned, very attractive and much younger man. And I wasn't even feeling a strong hetero vibe from him, if you catch my drift.

Let's look at the REAL Paul & Julia:

Believable, no? They look like a pair. He looks 10 years older (because he IS). He even looks straight. A sweet couple. Believable.

Now let's look at the movie pair:

Is anyone else feeling me on this? That was the one and ONLY thing that disturbed me about the picture....watching their makeout scenes just felt...well, WRONG. I wasn't buying it. I thought the casting choice was poor, and if nothing else, they could have made Stanley look a little older, a bit taller, less dapper, a bit less tan? I mean, they CERTAINLY succeeded in making Meryl look old and unattractive. We're supposed to believe those two LIVED together while her wrinkled face rivaled Casper the ghost, and his smooth skin screamed "FRENCH RIVIERA"? I'm just sayin', it was bothersome for me. Anyone else? Anyone? (crickets chirping)

What was only a teeny tad bothersome was the unbelievable amount of disgusting eating you have to watch (and listen to!) in order to get through the movie. I mean, the MASTICATING! THE CHEWING NOISES! You'll see food fall out of a mouth on more than one occassion. Gah. But, again, since it was only a MINOR peeve of mine, I'm not even going to bring it up.

Lastly, for your DVD renting pleasure, I have invented a drinking game for Julie & Julia: every time you see a cardigan, you must take a drink.* This is tricky, as you will also see an abundance of blazers, lightweight jackets, capes and overcoats. Probably best to play with a light beer or wine spritzer or you'll be loaded by the time the credits roll.

But I really DID like the movie. You should see it if you haven't already. And tell me if you agree with me about the casting thing, okay? Tell me I'm not crazy.

*Cardigans tied around the neck count for a drink also.

The Face of Shame

2009-09-07T08:16:00.000-07:00

Arnold was caught eating one of my son's Toy Story figurines. I took a video of it.

If you've never seen a bulldog (whose tongue doesn't fit in his mouth) look terribly ashamed, it's worth 55 seconds of your time.

If you HAVE seen a long-tongued bulldog look guilt-ridden, then just go ahead and move along. Nothing to see here.

Euro Boom is back!

2009-09-06T06:04:00.000-07:00

Because my children were wandering around like orphans for a almost two weeks, it seems that everyone in town knows where we've been. And whenever someone asks me "HOW WAS THE TRIP?" I have to quickly decide if they really like me or just sort of mildly tolerate me before I tell them the truth: it was a fabulous 5-star vacation, we did lots of hopping around in France, Spain and Portugal...but it was WAY too long for me. By the end, I had FINALLY earned my sea legs, only to find it impossible to stand on still ground...and I just couldn't take eating another 5-course gourmet meal.

You know, when I say something that sounds that snotty, I sort of imagine people feeling about ME the way I feel about my size-4 wearing friends who moan about how 'FAT' they have gotten since they had a bite of that chocolate chip two weeks ago. That's when I would like to smother them to death in my fat rolls.

So, most of the time, when people ask me "OH MY WORD YOU WENT TO FABOO EUROPE FOR NEARLY A DECADE AND TELL ME, HOW WAS THE TRIP?", I reply with a flashy smile and a "It was AWESOME!". But, can I be honest here? YES, there were parts of it that were really, truly AWESOME (my favorite? The Guggenheim and Bilbao, Spain). And there were parts where I was really, truly ready to go HOME.

I have never been away from my kids for that long, and while I'm not one of those moms who moans and whines about "missing my babies" while they take a jaunt to the restroom, I have decided I don't need to be away from them for longer than four days. Okay, maybe FIVE. But it's got to be the most PERFECT Boom-tailored vacation for me to be away for five.

Maybe that was it? Maybe the truth is that there is no vacation on Earth that is as wonderful as being with my two kids?!

But Lord help me if I said THAT to the random people who ask me about it. I would want to punch my own self in the face with a response like that.

Out Shopping For Books...

2009-08-19T17:06:00.000-07:00

I've decided to just take all of your wonderful book reccommendations and just throw them in the trash. I'm going to spend my vacation reading the biography of Nene Leakes, one of the more frightening cast members of the Housewives of Atlanta.

If I finish it on the plane ride out, I'll simply re-read it until I can finally learn my lessons the EASY way.

Can we please discuss how hard up you'd have to be to be seeking life and love insights from NENE?

I am in NO way acknowledging that I watch this show. I've flipped by it and paused once. Or maybe twice. But that's IT.

Suggestions, please?

2009-08-18T19:20:00.000-07:00

Hi there. If you're out there...whomever you may be...would you please comment on this post and give me some good book suggestions?

We're getting ready to leave for our trip in a few days, and I need to prepare. We're going to be on the boat for a good portion of the trip and I will DESPERATELY need something to do. There will be NO internet. NO television. Just BOOKS. And CONVERSATION. I'm bracing myself over here. I'm a little concerned that after one whole day of deafening silence, I'll go absolutely batty and hoist myself onto the hull of the ship, screaming profanity at the dolphins.

I just can't picture it, is all I'm saying. I'm trying to be prepared.

Give me anything you have ever read that you really enjoyed. All genres welcome. I like everything from David Sedaris to Max Lucado. So, seriously...ALL genres! Let me know what book(s) you have read that you enjoyed! I'm making a list for the bookstore.

THANKS!!

No, I'm not expecting.

2009-08-16T07:47:00.000-07:00

We played a little game on the way to church this morning, called
"what would you name a girl baby and what would you name a boy baby".

S would name a boy baby 'Billy'. Nice. Boring, but nice.

Her brother G would name the boy 'Spiderman'. Certainly has a cool
factor to it...for the preschool set, at least.

S would name a girl baby 'Molly'. Sounds sweet enough.

G would name a bouncing baby girl 'Froggy Bonky Astronaut Hot Dog Head'.

Awwwww. Can't you just picture the sweet pink embroidery on a smocked
dress?

WORD.

2009-08-14T05:47:00.001-07:00

My friend Elicia has informed me that she has grown weary of reading about my stupid dumb Vince Vaughan dream. Point taken. I'm going to get back on it and start to write regularly again...as soon as I can figure out where to start.

We have had the busiest summer we've EVER had. We've been to the Outer Banks, to Santa Fe, to the Jersey shore, to Colorado, and then I had my girls' trip in Hot Springs, Arkansas. It has been a summer of unpacking and re-packing. Unpacking and re-packing.

I'll summarize.

Outer Banks trip: I can hardly remember it. I think my parents were there? My sister? Who knows. My kids tell me it was fun.

Santa Fe: We stayed for a long time this year...just me and the kids, while Daddy was abroad for work. I started to lose my marbles by the end of the visit.

Jersey Shore: My first time to Avalon. What a cute little town. Loved it. If only it wasn't 27 hours away, I'd visit every weekend.

Colorado: Went for a golf tournament for Ferf. Spent lots of time solo parenting. Saw Vail, Beaver Creek and lots of rich people.

Hot Springs: Girls Trip 2009. I won't try and summarize that one.

We are preparing to leave on our FINAL trip of the summer...this time, just Ferf and me. We'll be traveling to Europe. Flying into Paris and getting on a boat for nine days. Medoc, Bordeaux, Belle Isle, Bilbao, Santiago de Compostela, Portugal.

The catch? It overlaps with my daughter's first day of Kindergarten.

I won't get into the details of why we chose to take the trip. I'll just say that given the circumstances, YOU WOULD HAVE GONE TOO. We only conceded to go after securing my mother to oversee the first day of school, and the Biscuit is actually at ease with the whole situation, so I'm only having to pack a mild sedative or two for the trip.

Please don't tell me that you don't think this is a good idea, as I have enough guilt and worry for us both. BELIEVE ME.

Vince Vaughan asked me out!

2009-06-29T06:42:00.001-07:00

He asked me out! In my dream last night.

He asked me to come with him to have dinner on his boat! Can you believe that?!?

But FIRST he wanted me to help him clean his roof. And that's not some kind of sick metaphor, either. Literally, scrubbing his entire, gigantic SUN-PELTED ROOF.

And the way he presented the date? It sorta made it clear that there wouldn't be dinner without the roof cleaning first.

Hmmmm. He's totally not that into me, you guys.

This here. THIS is why I'm fat.

2009-06-18T15:11:00.000-07:00

Can I submit a photo of my mother to www.thisiswhyyourefat.com? Please?

She needs to be stopped. These cookies are ridiculous.

If he's really 'following' ME? Then we're all in a boatload of trouble.

2009-06-16T09:33:00.001-07:00

Lacking depth, one post at a time.

2009-06-15T10:36:00.000-07:00

I found a great website the other day, called 'This is why you're fat'. It features ridiculous and fattening food offerings, with reader-submitted photos and descriptions.

Or maybe it's a sad website?

But people, I'm just not sure who gets sad when they look at a picture of a Chicken Finger Pizza:

The description: "A pizza consisting of Thousand Island dressing as the sauce, topped with a family size bag of chicken fingers, a container of bacon bits all smothered in sliced mozzarella cheese."

It's no secret that I lack depth, so I'll just go ahead and say it: this is just plain old HILARIOUS. I think my favorite part about the description is the 'family size bag' qualifier. It really adds to the overall grossness of the dish.

The most disturbing part of this site was not the bacon cheeseburger with buns made out of personal pan pepperoni pizzas, though that would've been a good guess. No. It was the fact that I saw a few things that actually looked pretty tasty. (I'll let you guess which ones I wanted to eat. Go ahead and take a guess. I dare you.)

I'm a sick pig. Somebody should put me out to pasture where there is no internet service.

FIVE sounds OLD.

2009-06-14T17:47:00.000-07:00

Today my sweet baby girl turns five, and I can hardly believe it! The time has flown since she was born, and I am starting to feel like one of those old ladies in the grocery store that sighs at newborn babies and declares "It goes by so fast!". I haven't started carrying around photos of my babies in a billfold yet, so I guess I'm not TOTALLY over the edge.

But using the word 'billfold' is never a good sign.

She has grown up and changed so much...with each and every year she surprises me. For example: when she was born, we were shocked that she was a HUMAN! A real, live human baby! Terribly surprising. We weren't prepared for that one.

When she was one, we learned that in addition to the blue eyes and fair skin, she would add yet another physical trait that would alienate her from her mother. Suddenly our baby girl had CURLS! Those sweet blond ringlets would cause strangers to ask if I was her full or part-time nanny?

(For some reason, before she was born I had imagined my daughter to have long dark and straight hair, olive skin and brown eyes. And she'd probably be creative and funny, a big eater with a big loud mouth to go along with it. She'd have a fiery temper, would love all things Disney, all things silly and have sort of a bad attitude from time to time...but nothing that a present couldn't fix--maybe a tad of materialism thrown into the mix. Not sure where I came up with all of that.)

At two, we learned our daughter was incredibly outgoing and fearless in social circles, and was easy to drop off at pre-school, the church nursery, or the WalMart parking lot (heh. heh heh. just kidding). She had SO much fun at all of these outings, she often would not want to be picked up....which was always good for my mommy ego. She was a gregarious singer (that's how we knew she was awake!) and had a laugh that we called 'the chortle': a deep, throaty, belly-rubbing kind of laugh that made everyone in earshot wonder where the portly senior citizen was hiding? And what was so funny?

At three, I can only recall being eternally grateful that she was kind, obedient, and not interested in jumping from the top of the refrigerator. At the time I had a 1.5-year-old boy running around draining me of my resources. My girl has always been a good one.

Four definitely surprised us...as our outgoing little thing became shy and withdrawn. We had separation issues for the first time and real anxiety about meeting new people, going new places, and integrating into different social situations. I had always pitied the mothers waiting around the corner of the church nursery, chewing their nails, waiting for their kid to stop crying so they could breathe again...but her fourth year made me EMPATHIZE. I thought that kind of stuff was supposed to happen at two?

As we approach five, much has changed...and yet she's still the same sweet little girl we always knew. She is a great singer, a very very good artist (and I have outside confirmation on that, it's not just my opnion, I swear), an opinionated fashionista (darn it!) and has gotten much more comfortable in her skin...much more at ease with new situations and bigger groups of people. We're coming to realize it may be less of a 'phase' and more of her personality. She's quieter. Softer. Is a people pleaser. A little more fearful and timid than most....at her birthday party this year she nearly broke down into tears while the group sang HAPPY BIRTHDAY to her. All of those eyeballs on her and bodies surrounding her? It almost did her in.

Even now, she is throwing us for some loops! For the good and the bad, I'm so glad to be the mother of this little girl. I couldn't have dreamt up a more perfect daughter!

Uno, Dos, Tres, Catorce!

2009-06-13T11:35:00.000-07:00

SIGH.

I have not had much motivation to write lately. Mostly because in order to write, one must have energy and/or motivation to do so. I have neither. My husband has taken to calling me 'Eeyore'. My kids have shunned me. Even the dog has turned on me.

Just kidding about my kids. They still love me.

But the rest of that is true. I've been in a FUNK, people! This warm weather has got my husband out and PLAYING SOME GOLF. If you're a mother with small children AND have a husband who plays some golf, you're feeling me on that one...am I right? I haven't been feeling great. I have been looking worse. PLUS, the dog has decided to like my husband better!! TOTALLY offensive.

I recently had my first (and hopefully last) bout of VERTIGO. You guys, that is a MISERABLE affliction. I seriously pity people who suffer from it chronically. I won't get into the details of my misery (try not to be disappointed) but will say that if you ever get this sickness, you probably will forever loathe the U2 song of the same name. All day long, all that filled my spinning head was "Helloooo Hellloooooo....I'm at a place called Vertigooooo", and I wanted to call Bono personally and thank him for such a melodic tribute to HELL ON EARTH.

That happened on May 15. I've got a lot of catching up to do.

Reminder.

2009-04-30T18:47:00.000-07:00

Just in case you were with me on that post yesterday about the movie...JUST in case you may have had verbal skills enough to watch and understand a picture show in the year 1985...I need to send you a gentle, but firm reminder:

If you're old enough to remember the trend the FIRST time it came around, then you're too old to take part in it the SECOND time around.

Wiser words have never been spoken.

Also, if you're over 17, you shouldn't wear t-shirts featuring smart mouth catch phrases. You know, like, "The DIVA has spoken!" or something else of equal annoyance.

Truthfully, I don't like ANYONE of ANY age wearing 'confrontational' t-shirts. Blech. I mean, who needs to see a pig-tailed 5-year-old wearing a "GIVE ME CANDY OR I'LL SMACK YOUR FACE' t-shirt? Come on, people. Let's work together on this one.

Um. What was I saying?

OH yes. All of these crazy floral dresses everywhere! It's so Laura Ashley! It's so 1985! What is HAPPENING?

I cannot abide by any of that. I won't.

P.S. Is there any exception to this fashion rule? Let's open up the floor and talk about it.

Have you seen this movie lately?

2009-04-28T18:32:00.000-07:00

Tell me you have. Tell me you watched it six thousand times in junior high alone (since you didn't have any plans anyhow). Tell me you, too wanted to dance on DTV?

I squealed with joy when I spotted this on the shelf at Target for only five bucks. I'm planning on getting my sister a copy, because she might be the only person who has seen it half as many times as me (she actually had friends/plans in junior high).

If you haven't seen it, GO TO THE BIG RED TARGET AND SECURE YOUR OWN COPY. It's a fabulous timepiece of fine 1980's cinema.

P.S. SPOILER ALERT: At one point in the film, Helen Hunt wears a beret with a giant grasshopper on it...and it's not some sort of costume or ironic headpiece. It's just an accessory to her outfit, you guys. If that isn't reason ENOUGH to go buy it, I don't know what is.

Ode to Jealousy.

2009-04-27T17:23:00.001-07:00

Now, I like a good home deco mag/blog just about as much as the next person....if not much more. Perhaps it is just my general mood that is affecting my take on this particular blog post. It has been a long one. But seriously? I don't need this today.

It wasn't so much this heavenly bed...you know, the custom upholstered headboard and footboard. Or the fresh flowers throughout the home (incuding nightstand and bathroom vanity)*.

I was even okay with this perfect arrangement of coffee table books, all the while knowing that small children reside here. I held back jealousy as I gazed at that wall of mis-matched frames...artwork and photographs seemingly displayed in random, yet TOTALLY. WORKING. PERFECTLY.

I also have peace about this amazing outdoor space and gorgeous table spread, knowing that one of two things will happen here: 1. Mom will feed the kids dinner out here, as I imagine she might do every night, right after she starches and presses that white table cloth for the four hundredth time. OR 2. Mom is about to host a dinner party with fabulous friends. Either way, I'm sort of bugged about it, and I'm starting to hate my life a little bit.

This is the bathroom/entrance to the closet. My blood pressure is rising. It looks like she's a great photographer. And could that chair be any MORE beautiful? I've always wanted a chair like this near or in my closet, a-la Mariah Carey. You know, you use it to sit and buckle the delicate ankle strap on your very-high-heeled shoe? Or maybe just to drape the occasional cocktail dress over the back?

Then there was this one. You guys, I cannot tolerate this one. This is where I draw the line. Turns out this ramshack is just the beach house. And apparently, when she's not making adorable babies and hosting dinner soirees and having perfect hair, Mom just runs around the house with her golden tan-bodied self in this backless silk sheath gown.

I don't have time for this kind of thing. Here's why. 1. My dog tackles me every time I sit on the floor to tie my tennis shoes. 2. These yoga pants are starting to join forces with the surface of my skin. 3. I don't own a table cloth.

I could go on, but I'd better run. I need some dessert.

*Have I ever told you about my longing for a floral designer (that's floral DESIGNER...not a 'florist', people) to come each week and change out arrangements throughout the house? You know, just swoop in every Tuesday to clean out the 'old' flowers and put a new vase with gorgeous blooms beside my computer? My bathroom sink? In the cupholder of my van? HEAVEN.

A plea to the writers of LOST.

2009-04-23T11:08:00.000-07:00

Last night, while watching ANOTHER re-cap of LOST:

Me: "I just don't buy it."

Ferf: "Buy what?"

Me: "I mean, WHO in their right mind would leave their child to travel somewhere when there was a better than good chance that meant they would never return? Who would take the risk of abandoning their child?"

Ferf: "Are you serious?"

Me: "Yes! It's ridiculous. I would never leave my kids to come and find you or save some random person on an island if I knew I'd probably never come back to them. NO parent would make that choice."

Ferf: "It is ridiculous. And yet the polar bear lurking around the jungle...that doesn't seem to bother you. Or how there's a giant smoke monster that sucks people away? What about the cabin that appears out of nowhere? The underwater submarine and hub thingy? How about the fact that the ENTIRE ISLAND IS CAPABLE OF MOVING THROUGH BOTH SPACE AND TIME?"

Me: "Fine. You have a point."

Ferf: "What about how people come back from the dead? Or the fact that we've watched this show for three fruitless years in hopes of an answer and are more confused than ever?"

Me: "Yes. All of it frustrating. But I just don't understand why they have to involve the babies. The children. The DOGS fortheloveofpete! Thank goodness that yellow lab got written off. It's too distracting for me."

Ferf: "As if the stupid story line itself isn't distracting enough."

Me: "Exactly. I should write someone a letter."

Because, the fans! They can't get enough!

2009-04-16T05:31:00.001-07:00

My friend Emily and I have been discussing doing a podcast. I heard one once that was so entertaining...so funny...so lighthearted...and it was just a simple conversation between two friends.

I told her We should do this! It would be fun! Our conversations are HILARIOUS! We could just tape our blabbering every once in a while and then people would think WE'RE TOTALLY HILARIOUS!

This, of course, lead to her shooting down my idea from all angles:

1. We're only totally hilarious to OURSELVES. This theory has been tested and proven at many social gatherings.

2. We have no idea how to make a podcast.

3. Emily turns beet red and her throat closes up at the thought of speaking publicly via podcast. (And when she gets nervous she exerts profanity.)

4. We have no topic around which to center said podcast. Nor do we have a general direction.

5. We're self-centered, fairly lazy and slightly shallow. 94% of our conversations reflect those qualities.

6. We just have one rule so far: NO PROFANITY. This will result in me running my mouth whilst Emily rocks back and forth silently in a corner.

7. Nobody cares about what we have to say.

8. We have no idea how to make a podcast.

I'm still trying to talk her into it. I think it would be fun! Don't you? I have visions of wearing big headphones and cuing people and cutting in the fade music and junk like that (isn't that what producers do, Robin?)

Saturday on the porch.

2009-04-07T16:36:00.000-07:00

A few weekends ago we had an unusually warm-ish and sunny Saturday morning. So, after I finished making eggs and bacon and toast for the kids (and the husband), I took a blanket and my coffee out on the screened porch to enjoy the quiet and the beautiful weather.

The birds were chirping and everything was just about to bloom. It was all very idyllic and peaceful.

Until the kids followed me out about 17 seconds later.

The light was so nice that I had to run for my camera, an effort that has become more and more rare these days. Needless to say, I'm thrilled that the only photos I took for the month of March feature my daughter wearing this ultra-shiny, highly flammable (and hideous) Dora nightgown.

One small step in the right direction.

2009-04-07T16:11:00.000-07:00

Slamming doors is a big no-no in our house.

Come to think of it, I'm pretty sure nobody allows the slamming of doors in their home. Am I right? I might as well have written 'In our home, we strongly discourage the children from playing with fire'. Just disregard that moronic first sentence.

Anyways, it's not because we have weak door hinges, loud noise phobias or anything like that. It's become an issue because of a particular 3-year-old boy who really enjoys slamming the you-know-what out of a door at any given moment: happy moments, angry moments, 6:13 a.m. hey-where-is-everybody? moments, Arbor day, the Chinese New Year, and every moment in between. There is no occasion which does not call for a self-gratifying door slam.

We have punished, yelled and time-outed, and some days I feel like nothing is getting through that head of his.

Today when he happily ran to his room after lunch, he had an uncontainable-grilled-cheese-induced-joy moment and decided to slam the bedroom door behind him.

I gritted my teeth from the kitchen sink.

Before I could even get my words out, I heard the door open up and a tiny voice from within yell "Mom? MOM?!? I'm REAaa-LLLY SaawwwEEEE!"

That, my friends, is called PROGRESS.

Gilding the tampon basket.

2009-04-03T11:45:00.000-07:00

And while we're at it, why don't we punch up that plunger a little bit with some rhinestones. It's looking so 'utilitarian' over there.

Retail Management 101

2009-04-01T18:35:00.000-07:00

Putting my daughter down to bed has gotten to be a very drawn out procedure as of late. There is talking, snuggling, a prayer, a hug and then a kiss, followed by my feeble attempt to wrap things up. At the instant my lips leave her face, it becomes a personal challenge for her to quickly try and think of four thousand pivotal things to ask before I shut the door behind me.

Last week I decided to fix her wagon and instate a bedtime rule. After the kiss, she would be allowed ONE question. And ONE question only. It has been beyond enjoyable...to watch her try to fabricate a question that will require lengthy conversation. She has gotten quite good at it.

"Mom? Um. What, um..? What about the, um...? Mom? What...? You know when...? Um. Mom?"

"Yes dear."

"Mom? Um. You know...you know...um. The. Stores? The stores? How they have stuff? Stuff that we can buy?"

"Yes."

"Well, how do they..? Um. How do they get the stuff in the stores? How do those people get that stuff?"

"Well, they buy those things from someone. And then they sell those things to families like us."

"Hmm." She takes about a half a second to process this. "Yes." She's patronizing me now. "But. How does all of that really work?"

Hold the steering wheel, honey, while mommy rips her heart out of her chest.

2009-03-29T05:30:00.000-07:00

My daughter had a lunch bunch this week where, in a sick twist of preschool fate, NONE of her little girlfriends were there. As we drove home that day, she told me that she tried to play with some boys from another class, but they kept running away and said they didn't want to play with her.

When I asked her what she did then, she told me "I just kept following them, and I asked them again. But they still said no." And then she proceeded to just sort of watch them play, from a respectable distance, and hoped and hoped for the full 25 minutes on the playground that they would change their minds and include her.

They did not.

She was disappointed, gazing out her window as she quietly re-told the story...just a little bit deflated. I, on the other hand, felt like I needed to call a doctor and check myself in somewhere. I privately cried. And then I sucked it up and tried to console her, all the while trying to make it seem like it wasn't the end of the world...and that I loved her.

I realized that this will be the first of many, many heartbreaks I will have to experience with my children. And it won't be the last time I will want to run onto the playground and ~~beat on a small child~~ protect her.

Bullet: The Bucket

2009-03-28T09:23:00.000-07:00

The Bucket

He sings and talks and yells ALL the live long day. ALL of it. This can be problematic when he is, say, at school? Church? The grocery store? In our living room? EVERYWHERE. We're working on it.
This lack of mouth control carries over into his body more often than not. This, as you might imagine, can also be an inconvenience when we're anywhere, say, where some other people might be. We're also working on that.
He's making AMAZING progress, and just to be clear...we're certainly not worried he'll beat someone up or put a cat in the microwave or anything like that. A timely bible study this week on Ephesians 6 absolutely rocked my world...dissecting what it really means to "exasperate" your children...and made me realize some things that I do that may be contributing to his behavior. Whew.
I just looked over at him, just now on the couch, and he had his foot in Arnold's face and was telling him "Go away, Arnie. Get away from me. You smell. Nobody wants you here." Poor, annoying Arnold proceeded to ignore that insult, climb up onto the couch next to him and snuggle in. And the snuggle was reciprocated. (where on EARTH did he learn to speak to the dog that way?)
He greets everyone with a warm (and loud) HELLO! and usually follows that up by telling them that he either 1. had a great nap today, or 2. had a good night's sleep last night. It's his standard ice breaker with the ladies these days. This ice breaker is naturally met with some confusion. Like, did your kid just tell me about how he slept last night? Because it's 4:30 in the afternoon and I'm just trying to pump some gas over here.

Bullet: The Biscuit

2009-03-26T18:39:00.000-07:00

The Biscuit

She already has such STRONG preferences about what she wants to wear. This breaks my heart, as I always envisioned dressing up my little girl until she went off to college. Is that unreasonable?
She is really excited about reading. She and I read these great little learning books (we're already on set two) and she's amazing me with how well she's catching on! She's a smart little girl.
She's also a stubborn, stubborn little girl. She earnestly believes that she knows absolutely everything. The GREAT part about this personality is that she is not the type to sit around whining because she can't figure something out. The first day she got those princess Pollys? She grunted and sweated and refused assistance and furrowed her brow for 45 minutes until she figured out how to get that teeny tiny gown on and off of that miniscule doll body. Because, you know, dressing and undressing a doll the size of a thimble is apparently good times for the four year olds. Don't ask me why.
She told me the other day that she didn't want to take swim lessons anymore. Specifically, she said 'I just can't take it anymore'. I cringed. I asked her where on earth did she ever learn to speak so dramaticallly? And then I drove her to swim lessons.
She's turning into a computer nerd just like her mother. She loves to play computer games, and now has a little computer on her 'desk' that she can use during quiet time...usually once a week or so. She loves this one, this one, and of course this. Anyone out there have any other suggestions for other good sites? Ones that don't offer the standard 'let's dress up this pre-teen harlot in a hot pink tube top'? I'd love your suggestions.

Bullet: Bed Bath & Beyond coupons stress me out.

2009-03-24T13:56:00.000-07:00

I am sitting on my back porch listening to my kids play in the backyard, wondering where the time has gone?

All of these trees have gotten so tall...and it seems we just planted them yesterday.

The tulips are coming up...and I feel like the snow just melted.

My son has a mullet...and I am certain he just had a haircut a couple of weeks ago.

I haven't blogged in just about forever...and so much has happened. The problem is trying to put all of it into words creatively. So instead, I'm catching you up with what's been on my mind lately with a bulleted list:

Both kids had lunch bunch at the same time this week and one time last week. Best extra hour(s) of my life.
I love working from home so much. I love working, PERIOD...but I don't really NEED to. And it makes me feel guilty as a parent.
I constantly am saying dumb things to people that I intend to sound innocent, trivial or perhaps funny, and then second-guessing myself for the next three days, internally fashioning my follow-up explanation and/or apology. It's a problem.
I need to lose 10 pounds before spring or I'll officially be wearing black yoga pants at the pool all summer.
My kids are growing up too fast and I want to have another baby. Also, I never want to have another baby. Another problem.
Edys has new Girl Scout-flavored ice creams. One word: SAMOAS. Run to your local grocer.
After that, you should then run to your local cobbler. Because if you're the kind of person who still says 'grocer' you probably have a cobbler nearby.
My daughter is going to kindergarten next fall. She is thrilled. I am in shock.
My son asks--everyday--if today he has a playdate? a school day? a trip to the museum? a playdate? And is crushed and miserable if the schedule calls for 'absolutely NOTHING. but maybe a trip to the grocery store if you're lucky.' He is signed up for 5-day pre-school next year. This makes me feel incredibly relieved and horribly guilty all at once.
My husband and I watched 'Fireproof' the movie. The acting is painful. The point is solid.
Maria Shriver is following me on Twitter. She must be captivated by my bi-monthly tweets. Either that or she follows everyone who follows her first. I choose to believe the former.
OH and those goshdarned 20% off COUPONS (that are printed on the broad side of a posterboard)? I mean...there are JUST. SO. MANY. of them!!! But if I throw them away? One of our beds will surely burst into flame and I'll have to re-purchase everything from the new bedskirt to the Euro shams. That's just stress, you guys. STRESS.

P.S. Eating Samoas ice cream also makes me feel guilty. The end.

What I do.

2009-03-18T10:41:00.000-07:00

Here's what I do on a FULL-TIME level: I clean up dishes, put away laundry, wipe noses (and bottoms and faces), pick up, drop off, make breakfast, lunch and dinner (that sometimes nobody eats anyhow), read Fancy Nancy (again), give hugs, and oversee time-outs. I am in charge of mentally cataloging playdates, appointments, what's in the fridge, who got to push the button on the elevator last time, school field trips, and every kids-eat-free night within a 10 mile radius. I also continually track the whereabouts of backpacks, shoes, hairbows, lovies, and the occasional emergency stash of lollipops/wipes/clean underwear.

Here's what I do on a PART-TIME level: I do web design and graphic design. I work for very small little businesses. I mostly get my work through referrals...and I usually have more work to do than I have time for. I don't leave the house to do this work, and I don't have a nanny to help with the kids. I work when I can, which is usually for an hour or more in the afternoon and/or late at night (my kids have 'down time' every day in their respective rooms.)

When I had my daughter, I was blessed to be able to stay home full time with her. Being a busybody, I thought this time would give me the opportunity to learn to do something I loved...slowly...without the pressure to 'bring home the bacon'. I started with cheap software. I bought lots of books. I perused nerdy HTML code websites. And I made a lot of mistakes.

On a side note, at that time I also did paintings for people....have I shared that before? I think I have. Have I? I can't remember. I miss painting. Maybe I already said that.

Anyways, I just did this site for my friend. We still have some things to work out on it (so don't judge), and I'm continuing to learn how to make my work better. I am SO behind on technology!! Lately I've been training online, which has been like food for my spirit. This is work that I truly enjoy and I love the feeling of IMPROVING what I do.

Anyways. So there you have it. That's what I do.

I've got to get back to work! Three new sites coming down the pipe...

If you've got a case of the Mondays today...

2009-03-16T10:28:00.000-07:00

This made me laugh.

Over. My. Head.

2009-03-15T18:26:00.001-07:00

This part time working thing has gotten a little bit out of control. I have more work than I can handle. I have been putting in ridiculous hours lately. And I have new clients waiting in the wings.

I haven't had time to write anything.

I have too much to do.

Plus, I think to myself, who cares if I don't blog. Who am I disappointing anyhow?

Now here's the part where all three of you comment and tell me how much you love me and miss me and you can hardly put your feet on the floor in the morning because I haven't updated you on where my lardy bulldog has been sleeping lately.

Cue Lionel Richie, 'All Night Long'.

2009-03-04T10:57:00.000-08:00

Arnold HATES to sleep in that crate of his. He is stressed about it. And so, because I am a total sucker for a sad bulldog face (AND because I am SO READY to get rid of the big dumb smelly ugly dirty dog crate in my front room), I brought his big pillow up into our bedroom so he could sleep on the floor beside us.

This made the Arnold happy for a week or so....until the night terrors started. He got spooked one night, waking up from a dream woofing, and proceeded to prowl around the room in the dark growling. This event so unglued him that he spent the next several nights trying to hoist himself up on our bed (which, thankfully, he is unable to do without the assistance of an able-bodied human or a forklift).

Why don't YOU try to fall asleep whilst a fat bulldog tries to scale the side of your mattress sometime? It doesn't amount to a good night's sleep for either party, let me tell you.

Arnold has now been evicted and is left to roam the house. Which he does, we're convinced, ALL. NIGHT. LONG. Like, as in, he DOES NOT SLEEP. And what he DOES do (one might ask) while he nervously paces the floor? I'll tell you. He POOPS...and we are greeted each morning with a huge mound of Arnie poo.

I don't know why I should be surprised that I have nurtured a dog that has sleep issues. This dog is making me crazy.

Is purpose possible?

2009-03-04T10:33:00.000-08:00

Ephesians 5:15-16 ¹⁵Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, ¹⁶making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil.

Our bible study is knee-deep in Ephesians right now, and we talked particularly today about how we spend our resources...how proactive we are about purposefully spending our time.

It was particularly convicting for me today in light of the fact that I have spent hours this week watching the televised trainwreck called 'The Bachelor'. I can't even say anything about that mess that hasn't already been said. That Jason puts the "MESS" in Mesnick.

I have recently decided that I do NOTHING of value after the children are in bed. It is typically the time of day when I want to collapse on the couch and just zone out. Zoning out can include but is not limited to: email, facebook, blogging, wine, television, television, television, beer, ice cream, cookies, cookie dough, and/or cookies or cookie dough MIXED with ice cream.

I need a new plan. Anyone have some advice? Is it even POSSIBLE to be 100% purposeful in my life right now...with two kids that wear me out? Or will I ALWAYS be exhausted...small children or not?

Are you living purposefully?

Turns out I'm NOT crazy

2009-02-28T04:27:00.000-08:00

The top photos are the ones fed by flickr. The bottom ones are the ones manually uploaded via blogger.

I wish somebody out there would have smacked me around and told me this a long time ago.

In unrelated news, I just finished a web site for a friend of mine who is planning on offering up services for brides in need of montage videos, handmade placecards and the like. It is rare nowadays that I finish anything for anyone (much less start it)...and even as I type this, there is a tiny person trying to crawl on my lap, asking if I can help pull up his pants.

Needless to say, it feels to be an accomplishment. You can peek at it here.

It involves one light socket and a delicate amount of hair gel

2009-02-26T06:51:00.000-08:00

Ferf (my husband) always wants to check in on the kids while they're asleep. He always has said that he has to resist temptation to scoop up our kids and wake them up while they are sleeping, because to him, that is about as cute as they can get.

Yes, yes, honey...I'm glad that you find them adorable tonight, and I'm certain their cuteness is aided by the fact that you weren't here all day to witness the 12 time-outs I had to oversee. But let's not just march in here and talk some crazy talk about waking everyone up. Every effort of mine today has lead up to this moment of SILENCE, and I'd like to keep it that way. Please observe your offspring from a respectable distance.

While I don't disagree with my husband (they are deceptively angelic while they sleep), to ME, there is nothing better than one of my kids with that puffy, 'just-woke-up' morning face. I love it. I wish that I was better about taking pictures of those sweet faces in the morning.

G inspired me this morning to run for the camera. Can someone please explain to me what happens to his head in the middle of the night? I'd like to know. So that I can manipulate and duplicate the delicate process each and every night. I really need to have this fuzzy blond head to kiss every morning.

Where once there was clutter

2009-02-13T11:21:00.001-08:00

Lately I've caught the "spring cleaning" bug around our house. We've already seen how I turned our closet around, and it is a masterpiece if I do say so myself. AHHHHhhhh. It's like shopping in a mini-Bergdorf's every time I walk in there to get dressed. Except here, the clothes are cheaper. And probably much more outdated. Come to think of it, I'm sure the men's department is on a whole different floor in Bergdorf's, so the women don't have to mingle with the stinky, un-organized Men's department.

Now I'm just depressing myself.

Moving on to my next project: the kids' closets. The first step was to take everything OUT and then make a BIG pile for charity:

I bought a few of these plastic drawer thingies at the Tar-jay. I really hate the look of plastic bin stuff, but can tolerate it if it's inside of a closet. It serves its purpose here, I think.

The next thing I got was a huge laundry basket for stuffed animals. Did you know that stuffed animals are the bane of my existence? Here's why: they're gigantic, they're useless, no one plays with them EVER, they sit around, all they do is take up space, and everyone CRIES when I try and secretly throw them away.

We got a new basket for books, since the old one broke apart (apparently it wasn't made to sustain the weight of a three-year-old trying to reach the light switch.)

We swapped out some 'baby stuff' from these baskets for doll clothes and figurines from downstairs. Sometimes things feel new if you just rotate them to different rooms of the house. Who knew?

Her room feels brand new. She knows where everything goes and can repeat after me: "Everything has its place." Now we just have to keep her brother out of it.

P.S. I've started uploading my photos directly from flickr. What do you think? Do you think they look better? I think they do...but maybe it's just my imagination?

The Mayor of Big Mouth City

2009-02-11T16:14:00.000-08:00

Typically, after a bath, you can find my two hyper children yelling, screaming, cackling and hollering "STINKY WOO-WOO TOOT BOTTOM!!" to each other and laughing hysterically. Simultaneously you will find my husband and/or me telling them to PLEASE. just. BE. QUIET.

I mean, the volume level in this house is offensive.

Amidst this typical round of scolding tonight, both of the kids spontaneously called out a "GO HEELS!" chant...shouting "GO HEELS! GO HEELS!!" back and forth to each other. Something they no doubt heard on the playground today.

"Now THAT," my husband declared, "is something you are allowed to yell about." And I swear he unscrolled his parchment and got out a feather quill for this one:

"From now on, in this house, you are only allowed to yell if you are cheering for the Tarheels."

"OR if you're bleeding."

From this day forward. Hallelujah and Amen.

Somebody turned THREE!!

2009-02-10T10:53:00.000-08:00

My sweet little baby boy was born on this day, three years ago exactly. As a matter of fact, right about now I was starting to cuss and spit at my husband, who was dozing off on the couch beside me as I labored on (and my epidural wore off).

These past three years with him have been, amazing, surprising, exhausting...and always filled with laughter. There is something about this little boy that I was not prepared for. I was blown away by how quickly I fell in love with him...and there is still something about him that always melts my heart. And that something just happens to be his entire giant adorable blond head.

But wait! Have you ever seen the way he runs while he's laughing? Like when he's trying to get away from you in a game of chase that he's invented in his head? Or have you ever heard his laugh...you know, the one where he starts to cackle and lose his breath...when you tickle his belly at night right before bed? Have you ever snuggled with him while reading a book and felt that (gigantic) head beneath your chin...and those tiny fingers rubbing your arm while you read? And have you EVER seen a cuter bare behind?

Nope, you haven't seen any of that. But just trust me...those are just a few things about him that I love. There is no child on the planet that gets scooped up and kissed and hugged more than this child. Except for my daughter, who gets scooped up and hugged and kissed EQUALLY. But this post isn't about her, now is it?

(This was my favorite outfit of his as a baby. It was brown corduroy overalls with little dachshunds embroidered all over. I wanted to put him in a roasting pan and eat him alive when he wore this outfit. Is that normal?)

That is not to say that he has not been the biggest challenge of my life. Because, Lord bless him, he HAS BEEN THE BIGGEST CHALLENGE OF MY LIFE. He is strong-willed and loud, totally unreasonable, publicly humiliating, quick to cry and slow to recover. With him I have wondered, more times than I can count, if I am doing any of this right at all? Am I totally failing here as a mother? Will he turn out to be a kind and respectful, Jesus loving young man? Or will he be in prison by the time he's seven?

(He doesn't receive any of that above nonsense. He's got other things to consider. Like how to keep a steady diet to thicken up those feet of his. Or maybe he's planning on making a little cash on the side by leasing out cheek space for storage? Perhaps thinking about trying to see somebody about why he's forced to wear this outfit every day?)

Above everything else, I know he was made just for me...and I for him. He has made me speak louder (out of necessity) and love stronger. I have learned to listen more, and teach with my actions instead of words (because usually he's not listening anyways.) And just when I've lost my patience with him, he'll turn around and redeem himself with a soft word or a repentant heart.

Even when I cannot understand how he works, I adore who he is and how he was made. He will always be my baby boy.

Our New Favorite Show!

2009-02-03T17:01:00.000-08:00

This show is almost as cute as the books themselves...which is rare, in my opinion. My kids LOVE it, and I find it adorable as well. As any parent can attest, it's a wonderful thing when you find ANYTHING...be it a toy or a movie...that doesn't make you want to have your eardrums removed.

On a related note, I am continually amazed at the objectionable content in so many movies made for children. Overall, they may be 'innocent enough' to get by with that G rating. But when you stop and think about it, do you really want your three-year-old repeating that dialogue from Shrek? Trust me...it's not as 'funny' when it's coming from the mouths of babes.

So far I've only seen two episodes of Olivia. And so far, so good!

Have you seen it yet?

Taking a bike ride with my son is....

2009-02-02T17:05:00.001-08:00

less of a physical exercise and more of an exercise in patience.

Too bad my party guests aren't bulldogs

2009-02-01T11:16:00.000-08:00

I am making some kind of a saucy-meatball-in-a-crockpot appetizer for Superbowl festivities. I bought the pre-made meatballs, naturally, because I am lazy.

As I opened the pre-made meatballs, each member of my family commented separately and fervently about how all of a sudden the kitchen smelled like farts.

Just be quiet, I told them. They just have to cook for a while. I'm making a special sauce.

So. I made the special sauce, and then submerged the meatballs in that sauce.

Only to have my husband declare that it now smelled like a crockpot of 'barbecued farts'.

And as you sit and ponder exactly what a 'barbecued fart' might smell like, I sign off and wish you all a happy Superbowl Sunday. I'll save us all some time and keep this meatball recipe to myself.

On a related side note, Arnold the bulldog caught recently whiff of the fart-smelling package that once contained the meatballs. His head has been inside the trash can ever since.

Dizney and the Single Mom, part 2

2009-01-29T10:54:00.000-08:00

I will begin this post by saying I'm going to be spelling words a little funky so that weirdos can't google me. And because I'll be using words like "Dizney", (and have a strange urge to type the word 'YO' immediately afterwards) please don't assume that I write in that obnoxious pre-teen texting lingo. You know, like 'I C U L8R @ DZNEY, Yo. Holla.'

On the contrary, I'm a total loser who uses punctuation in my text messages, and any day now my kids will be asking me to drop them two streets down from the playground, while parked behind a row of bushes wearing dark glasses and a wig.

We started our day at C*hef Micke*ez, which is always a treat for the kids, and not as much of a culinary trainwreck as one might expect (I think I ate 9 of those mini pancakes).

Our one and only destination after that was the Magik Kingdo*m, and it was a COLD day. Our first stop? The gift shop, to buy two fleece blankets. My first Dizney tip, yo? Don't ever over/under-estimate the weather report. Pack four steamer trunks of everything you own. From a swimsuit to a snowsuit. If you have to buy so much as a kleenex to wipe someone's nose, you'll be taking out a second mortgage on your house.

Now, if you KNOW me, you know that I'm a total Dizney NERD. I mean, I have a spreadsheet with which to navigate a park. HA, ha, you're pointing and laughing at the nerd, ha ha ha. Well, yuk it up, friends. Because I didn't have to wait in hardly ANY lines for the entire day.

It's all about planning.

Most all of the rides take three riders, so I got to sit in the middle of my two to experience all of it. I got to watch my son's trepidation on ride one of Piratz of the Caribbean (yo) change to utter joy on ride two, and by ride four he was waving to the 'scary pirates' and singing Yo-Ho right along with them. We rode Peter four times, Pooh three times, Splash Mtn. three times....and I know they would have come back for more if we had extra time to do it.

Everyone thought I was crazy to do this trip with my two children alone...but I was really looking forward to having them all to myself in one of my favorite places. We followed my crazy schedule to a T, were together from sun up to sun down, and I really wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

It was such a wonderful trip with my two favorite little people...and I will never forget it.

A table for four children, please.

2009-01-28T10:42:00.000-08:00

There we are, at the princess dinner in Epcot, completely exhausted, a little bit loopy and VERY hungry. We had just been beaten down by two small children at an amusement park all day long.

As anyone would do in our situation, we entertained each other by daring the other one to ask a princess to hold up a ketchup-dipped roll with a chicken bone stuck in it (on a fork) for a photo shoot. I mean, we paid GOOD MONEY to come to this dinner (with mediocre food.) Weren't we ENTITLED to the photo of our choosing?

But which princess would hold the bloody roll-on-a-fork? Sleeping Beauty looked too uptight....and Cinderella was out of the question. Belle was inaccessible. Ariel was probably our best bet. But THEN, they threw in a surprise princess...Alice in Wonderland (NOT a princess, AHEM...), and we figured, since she looked to be roughly 14 years old, that we could talk her into holding up that fork for a photo before she even knew what was happening.

Wait. Is this the kind of story that only makes you cry with laughter if you're actually THERE? Well. I guess I'll have to be cliche and say 'you just had to be there'. And I'll also have to remind everyone that whenever I am with ANY of my girlfriends from college (Girls Trip 2009 is already in the works!!), nobody EVER laughs at whatever WE are laughing at. In fact, most people say that everything WE laugh it is the exact opposite of funny. That has never stopped us.

While Julie and I were snorting and trying to catch secret pictures of the roll-on-a-fork with a princess in the background, the 'family-style' dessert plate arrived. As soon as the kids started digging into it, we just weren't that hungry for dessert anymore. Imagine that.

We never did muster up the courage to ask any of the princesses to hold the grody bun fork for a picture. After it was all over, we ran back to the car, FREEZING our behinds off, as I mentally prepared for the next day when I would do the Magic Kingdom with my kids ALL ALONE.

Dizney and the Single Mom, part 1

2009-01-27T10:20:00.000-08:00

Well, I wasn't ENTIRELY alone. I met my friend Julie, who works for the Mouse, and she ran around with us for a day.

We started at Holly*wood Stoodios, then to M*agic Kin*gdom, and lastly to a princess dinner at Ep*cot.

The new Toy St*ory ride at Hollywood (formerly MGM)? FABULOUS. We did the Muppet Movie, the movie set playground, and my FAVORITE lunch in the park, the Sci-Fi Drive-in, where I got suckered into buying glow in the dark straw clips for the kids drinks (I won't share the price, as my husband may check in sometime here and read). Let's just say it wouldn't be the last time I would be suckered into buying something ridiculous while in the World. It has that effect on me.

We got a few key attractions out of the way at the M*agic Kingdo*m, and then we headed out to make it to our Ep*cot dinner. The kids did us a favor and fell asleep in the stroller, giving us time to sit in the Polyn*esian bar and have a beer and catch up (with NO kids interrupting). It was PERFECT!!

The princess dinner had Julie and I feeling exhausted and loopy, as only a long day with two tiny children can do to you. But I'll tell more about that tomorrow. That princess dinner needs a separate post.

Kickin' a shout out to the single mothers!

2009-01-26T11:58:00.001-08:00

Recently, my husband had to leave on a business trip to ANTARCTICA for two whole weeks. I know, I know...it's just not normal to go to Antarctica, business or not. Truthfully, that isn't even close to someplace I'd like to visit, and certainly not someplace I'd like to visit for TWO WEEKS. So, I was happy to let him take advantage of the opportunity. ALONE.

Can I tell you guys a secret? Single parenting is kind of HARD. And it's really tiring.

Can I tell you another secret? Apparently the tour guides in Antartica tell everyone that they are NOT allowed to lie down on the ice and make out with a sleepy, overweight seal. I mean, what purpose do those seals serve if not to fulfill my own personal cuddling needs? It's an outrage. Another reason I won't be traveling to Antartica.

And now, back to the topic at hand. Quit looking at that adorable seal and keep reading.

Many, many people offered to pitch in during the two weeks I'd be alone...suggesting playdates, lunch get-togethers, even taking a child off my hands for a couple of hours? I was surprised to find that no one really stepped up to the plate and followed through with their offer.

All of that reminded me to be more aware of the single mothers around me. Even small acts of generosity must be so helpful to them! It also convicted me to follow through with offers I make to others (and to not make 'empty offers' if I don't intend on following it up with some action.)

But don't feel too bad for me, people. I packed up my two kids and flew to Disney World for a few days to break the monotony and loneliness. And it was FABULOUS. More on that to come....

Please don't put a ring on it. She's only four.

2009-01-20T09:16:00.000-08:00

My daughter has always had a thing for music. As a baby, we always knew when she was up because we could hear the singing on the monitor. Even now during her 'room time', she is usually singing while she's playing.

I'm often surprised by how quickly she can retain a melody or a chorus in her head. The other day when we were driving, I was channel surfing, and suddenly the opening chords of a John Mayer song came on. She asked me to stop and turn it up because she "loves that song". I didn't believe that she knew it; we had only heard two chords of the beginning of the song. It wasn't a song I ever even played for her. But apparently she heard it once upon a time, and to prove it to me she started to sing the chorus of "Say" in the correct pitch.

I caught her the other day singing Beyonce in her room. I mean, REALLY. Again, we must have heard it on the radio at some point...me and my shuffling. I'd better not swing past those Hip-Hop/Rap stations anymore, just to be safe.

(turn up the volume, it's hard to hear)

And I've even got a Werther's Original in the pocket of my cardigan sweater.

2009-01-19T09:22:00.000-08:00

In the car today:

G: Can we watch a movie in the van?

Me: No.

G: Why not?

Me: Because. We're just driving to the grocery store.

S: Then can we play with our Leapsters (handheld video games)?

Me: No.

S: WHY NOT??

Me: You know, when I was a kid, we didn't have little tiny video games to play with. And we didn't have any televisions in our cars. The only thing we had to do was to just look out the window. And make conversation.

(silence.)

S: Well, what are we 'supposed to DO?

Me: Look out the window. Poke your brother. It builds character.

Just one reason that I love this ridiculous beast.

2009-01-17T09:40:00.000-08:00

My sister-in-law has never understood why we love our dog, and understandably so. His biggest fault is his horrible manners when a guest comes to visit. He jumps (60+ pounds!) and drools (a lot) and pretty much decides to camp out within a one to two-foot radius of said guest. His signature move is to literally SIT on the FEET of a new friend, which I analyze as his futile effort to make sure NOBODY WILL EVER LEAVE.

He is my constant companion while I'm at home (and I'm here quite a bit), is endlessly affectionate (and he never jumps on US)....plus, let's just face it: he adores me. I'll give credit where it's due and also mention that he adores my husband. When it comes to the kids? Adore isn't the word, because he loves them for their dropped food most of all. Sometimes I think he believes he's in charge of them.

He's always sitting in the middle of whatever they're doing. He waits at the top of the stairs to make sure everyone is coming down with him. Most of the time, he wants to be where they are.

My oldest got punished this morning for speaking disrespectfully and had to spend her quiet time in her room ALONE (as opposed to in 'her office' with me.) The first half hour or so was fine, until she remembered she was being punished. And then...the CRYING. The pleading. The knocking on the door. She spent the better part of a whole hour on the floor, sobbing...trying to beg for her release through the crack in the door.

I told her to knock it off. And then I went on about my business.

But not my sweet Arnie.

Arnold held vigil. He stayed by that door with his snout by the crack while she cried. He stayed put so she could hear him breathing on the other side. I heard her whisper to him and then stick a finger beneath the door to touch his cheek. She poked him with pencils, books and fairy wands.

And that dog held his post.

The Darkest New Years Party

2009-01-16T12:26:00.000-08:00

We went to Bethesda this year for New Year's Eve, as my sister was planning on having a great big fancy dinner party for 14 guests.

And while I'm sure she was thrilled to have my perky party self attend her 14-guest dinner party, I am more than sure she was eager to have someone to boss around all day in the kitchen prior to the party.

As it turned out, there was CRAZY wind happening in Maryland on the day of December 31. And so, the power went out at 11:00 am. And then, the power company said they didn't know when it would be fixed (during the phone call at 11:02 am.) And my sister turned into a sobbing/sulking lunatic between the hours of 11:03 am and 5:15 pm (while the power remained off.)

We had two fridges filled with appetizers and side dishes that required the warmth of an oven. We had pounds of filet mignon. We had two rented tables and 14 beautiful chairs and lots of fancy place settings assembled. A lovely dessert table (with two cakes that needed yet to be iced) and a wine and cheese table. The house was gorgeous, dark, and getting colder by the second.

She said 'let's cancel'. And I said 'let's not'. And I proceeded to talk her into having THE COOLEST NEW YEARS EVE PARTY EVER. Here's a checklist of things to do if you ever have to throw a NYE party without electricity:

Get lots and lots and lots of candles. And make sure they don't smell.
Don't put a candle on the back of the toilet. A girl could burn her hair off. Just trust me on that one.
Have icing and fresh whipped cream to prepare? No sweat. Grab your hand mixer, start up your uber-cool minivan (with the DC outlets in the back), and sit in your spacious trunk and whip up some cream cheese icing. SURE you'll spray powdered sugar in the crevices of your brand new car. These are the sacrifices one makes for a party.
Dump all casseroles (the ones that needed to be baked) into pans to cook on the GAS stove. You can re-casserole them up and display 'em real pretty AFTER they cook. Or maybe you'll have already had two glasses of wine at that point and you'll just throw a greasy frying pan filled with risotto out on the buffet table. You'll just have to play that one by ear.
Don't have a gas top oven? Stop reading. Your party is cancelled.
Put everything else that is edible on the grill outside. Wrap stuff in foil...get creative. And send a man out there to deal with it, because it's cold. Plus, it makes them feel all manly and important.
Get someone to bring over a little generator...enough to power an ipod dock. Find someone cool and swipe their ipod. If ever at a party with her, please trust me here...do NOT put on my sister's ipod. Unless you really like El DeBarge.
Lastly, don't forget to tell someone to please watch the time for the love of pete....preferably someone pregnant and/or the designated driver. It's sort of uncool to totally miss the midnight thing at a New Year's Eve party. Again, just trust me.

Christmas 2008

2009-01-15T17:01:00.000-08:00

This year was a BIG year for Christmas at our house...the first year where BOTH kids understood what was coming, and for the most part, were equally amped. S was SO thrilled with the entire Christmas season, that she became dismayed at the once blissful thought of biblical Heaven, concerned that 'what if they don't have Christmas up there?'

For whatever reason, she decided that all she wanted in the world was T*inkerbell shoes. Who knows how this particular desire landed in that head of hers, but she stuck to her guns all month long, and anyone who asked her what she wanted for Christmas got an earfull about the beautiful T*inkerbell slippers.

The fact that she has worn them twice since receiving them Christmas morning is neither here nor there.

She also got a keyboard that you can use to create and sing your own song while recording it. This is one of those toys that I'm happy we chose, as it has been VERY popular, and our little girl just LOVES to sing. It is also one of those toys I'd like to have mysteriously disappear one day and just tell the kids that Arnold (that piano-eating bulldog) is to blame.

G got a L*ittle E*insteins pat-pat r*ocket, which was a guaranteed great gift, as he hoardes it every time we play at his friend's house who has it. He also got a W*oody doll and a B*uzz L*ightyear doll, two of his favorite movie characters.

Both of the kids got new slippers and adorable D*isney W*orld p*otato head parts (I'd like to be buried wearing the potato head castmember pin that says "POTATO" on it.) New slippers are standard and always timely, as I'm ready to pitch last year's filthy dog-chewed pair long about the first of December. They each got a new DVD, new toothbrushes, and the obligatory orange in the toe of their sock.

Let's not forget the E*asy Bake* Oven we got (a novel little thing that takes up space IN MY KITCHEN) and the ginorm-o Bat C*ave (both kids love it!)

My sweet husband did a GREAT job with my gifts, sticking to his tradition of filling my stocking on (and no earlier than) December 24th. This year I gave him a little hint--and sent him to a mega beauty product store and then to the A*pple store. He latched onto the first knowledgeable employee he could corner in each store...and he done gooooood. Because I love some product, I love my computer, and I do love my sweet husband.

My daughter continues to be the most gracious receiver of all gifts...it is truly a pleasure to watch her open just about anything. My son did just as he did last year: he opens the first gift and decides to sit in a corner playing with that one toy, not particularly caring to open the rest.

Stay tuned for our pitch black New Year's Eve party.

Ooooh, Pandoooooh-ra

2009-01-13T18:43:00.000-08:00

Excuse me, but has anyone out there ever heard of Pandora?

Why is it that I JUST NOW have tried this miracle of internet-dom?

Have I been in a cave for twelve years?

Is Family Ties still on TV? Because I'm in love with Alex P. Keaton.

Can someone send me a smoke signal and let me know?

Resolution #3: quit writing parables.

2009-01-07T09:05:00.000-08:00

Imagine yourself in one of your oldest, most comfortable outfits. Maybe one that you would wear to run errands, lie around the house in, etc. It's not UGLY enough to keep you indoors at all costs, but you're not wearing it to any country club parties, either. So you're wearing the outfit, and you're fairly pleased with it. Indifferent, perhaps. It's comfortable and familiar; you've worn it so often you hardly even see it anymore.

Then, one day on a whim, you throw on a pair of exquisite brand new Christian Louboutin shoes. It makes you feel happy just to gaze upon these shoes...they're definitely the most gorgeous pair you've ever seen on your un-pedicured feet. And then BAM. That outfit you were once oblivious to is now HIDEOUS. Absolutely intolerable. You'd like to remove it with tongs and set it on fire.

Therein lies my dilemma.

I have already started to gut, minimize and organize parts of the house, including the master bedroom closet (painted! new hangers! storage baskets!):

I have also done our linen closet, the kids' linen closet and the guest room. The basement has been put in order (about as much order as it will take, anyways) and our garage has been cleaned out with wall shelves installed. We're well on our way. Yet, the list of 'to-dos' only gets longer with each new completed project. As certain areas get shaped up and cleaned out, all of the other areas of the house start to look much more dingy, dirty and tired.

Yes, yes...now my underwear are filed alphabetically by fit and color, respectively. An insignificant victory when you consider that every time the silverware drawer closes, seven pancake flippers have to be dislodged and relocated.

So what's next on my list? THE KITCHEN. Everything from the freezer to the pantry...and of course, the silverware drawer. It's my most intimidating project to date...because I need a PLAN. Any ideas?

P.S. Resolution #4 is to blog about Christmas, New Years AND put up some photos of my other home makeover projects!

Resolution #2: Any room on that bandwagon?

2009-01-06T12:10:00.000-08:00

Last year, during the first week in January, I went to weigh in at Weight Watchers during my regular meeting time, Friday morning at 10 am. I was irritable right off the bat, as it took me about five minutes to find a parking spot, when I typically was able to park front and center.

I greeted Sharon at the door, who always weighed me in. I picked up my card from the Friday box, just like I always did. And then I looked in the meeting room and saw TEN THOUSAND FAT PEOPLE squashing in around the metal folding chairs, standing room ONLY.

HA, HA, HAAAA. I laughed to myself. I scoff at all of these fatties and their New Years Resolutions! Where were they LAST week or the week before, when I could've taken a nap across eight chairs in every row of the meeting room? Don't they know I've been weighing in for over a year? Don't they know this weight loss business is more serious than a silly New Years Resolution? Don't they know how I SUFFERED to maintain during the holidays this year? These jerks probably got to eat cheesecake and sausage balls and mashed potatoes all month.

Well, I apologize to each and every one of those cheesecake-eating fatties. Because I'm up 14 pounds, everyone! I'm back on the WWWagon...and I'm here to be held accountable! So, feel free to send me comments like, "How's it goin', piggy?" or "What did you eat for lunch today, lardy?" How about the ocassional "Dear Chunk, Did you lose any weight yet? Still doing the truffle shuffle over there?"

I'm NOT resolving to be original, I suppose.

2009-01-05T17:56:00.000-08:00

RESOLUTION #1.

My personal policy on this blog has always been that I won't drone on and on about whatnots and day-to-day boredom in my posts. I never wanted to start writing a blog about how I wiped boogies all day long and so-and-so threw a tantrum and it rained a little bit and then we ran out of milk.

Yet, it really is a delicate job to be documentary and still remain interesting. Do ya feel me, mommy bloggers? I really do want to make sure I write about all of those little things....first words, milestones, challenges and the like. As I type, there are already a million little stories to tell that live right on the edge of my brain...in that delicate spot where if I have to try and find my car keys or remember someone's birthday, I will lose that precious memory forever.

All of that being said, my goal is to clean out the garage.

Still here?

OH good. Because that was a test. And you passed, my friend.

My real GOAL and RESOLUTION number one is...to write things down more often. To take more video. To enjoy this time with my kids and to document it. To maybe turn the first year of this blog into a scrapbook for our coffee table? Or perhaps a screenplay for Lifetime television?

Here are some little things I don't want to forget:

My son calls skeletons "rumpleskins". During the month of October I would often seek out a skeleton on a holiday decoration just to get him to say it. VERY entertaining.
My daughter likes to sing "Puff the Magic Dragon" at the top of her lungs. She knows all of the words. And there are A LOT of words to that song.
My son talks non-stop. He will ask the same question of you 42 times. And after answering him for the 41st time, right as you are about to absolutely flip out on him, he says "but momma, i just wanna talk to you!" which causes you to weep due to the mix of cute overload and total remorse.
My daughter has a keen ability to customize a song to fit her own lyrics. Most of them involve the name of her stuffed dog Fluffy, who speaks a language that consists of one word: EEE-NOOON. We have no idea what EEE-NOOOON means at all, but it can be used as a verb, a noun, an expletive and a battle cry. What, you may ask, drives me over the edge more than being asked the same question 42 times? It's the word EEE-NOOOOON...shrieked over and over by both children (apparently Fluffy has taught G's pancake how to speak "EEE-NOOOON" too. GREAT.)
My son has invented his own insult, which he will bestow upon anyone who wrongs him. If you cross him, or if he just wants to chap your hide a little bit, he'll call you a "hot dog in the bunch". We're not sure where it comes from. We think he instead tried to say "hot dog in the bun"...not that would qualify as a witty put-down in and of itself. We find this to be hilarious in our family, and on any given day each one of us will have been accused of being a "hot dog in the bunch" at least a dozen times. It never gets old.
My daughter is oh-so-good at coming up with really hard questions for you riiiiight before you're about to say goodnight and close the door. Tonight's question: "Mommy, um...(she's thinking, she's thinking)....why do we need God?" It's the kind of question that will either make your head explode or make you sound like an drooling invalid....which, any way you slice, is an enjoyable pre-bedtime spectacle.

More 'little things' to come in 2009! Except for my thighs, which, by the way, are NOT little. But you'll have to wait for resolution #9 for more information on THAT one.

Old.

2008-12-22T16:24:00.000-08:00

Here it is, December 22, and I'm wondering if I could get away with telling the kids that Christmas is really on the 28th.

Don't you remember when you were little, and you couldn't WAIT for Christmas? I have vivid memories of AGONY while I waited for the month of December to pass. Now that I'm old and gray, I cannot believe how fast this holiday season has flown by. It doesn't seem right.

So I decided today that this feeling qualifies me as being officially OLD. And unprepared.

Are you ready?

BL Finale Photos!

2008-12-21T12:23:00.000-08:00

If you watch BL last season, you'll certainly recognize some faces (my favorites, Britney and Bernie!)...I got to chat and hang out with EVERYONE as the night went on, and EVERYONE was so fun to be with and super friendly.

I apologize in advance for these photos...I look like a wrinkled, greasy train wreck. It's clear that I haven't been out past midnight for a very long time, no? If I had a shred of dignity left I would have taken the time to get on photoshop and blot the oiliness from my face...maybe smooth out a double chin or two...perhaps smooth the wrinkles on the satin dress I sat in for 3 hours previous to this photo shoot (bad choice in clothing, in hindsight).

But alas, my dignity has left the building. So here goes:

I blame it on the shopping carts.

2008-12-20T12:18:00.000-08:00

You know, those GERMS all over shopping carts? This is all THEIR fault.

I just got S. all happy and healthy and today, my poor boy G. fell with the "bug". It has him feeling hot and irritable, and looking so very pitiful. We really don't have any other "messy" side effects, so I guess I can't complain.

But I will anyways.

S. and I worked very hard yesterday getting ready for a "cookie decorating party" with our neighbor kids...we put it on the calendar weeks ago. We portioned out sprinkles for each kid, frosting, sugar shakers and one of each cookie shape for each kid.

Needless to say, she was disappointed to hear the news. But then, to soften the blow, I told her she could decorate them ALL. BY. HERSELF. While her brother SLEPT. And NO ONE would touch her decorating stuff. Including her brother.

Problem solved.

I should've brought my OWN camera.

2008-12-19T11:36:00.001-08:00

I attended the live taping of the B*iggest Loser on Tuesday, and lemme tell you...it was FUN. And oh-so-interesting. And unbelievable!

I got to meet everyone on the show, PLUS a handful of the contestants from last year.

I've got pictures to show, too...but I don't have my hands on them yet. So, stay tuned....I'll post about that later!

Gingerbread Houses, 2008 edition

2008-12-11T12:31:00.000-08:00

In my own private prayer time today, I asked God to please give me a bigger helping of creativity in the kid department. I mean, I can do some creative fun stuff for MYSELF as the day is long. But gearing up to do something crafty-creative with the KIDS? That's a WHoooooLE different story. In my mind, those types of activities usually require a giant tarp of some sort and a bottle of Tums.

I got these gingerbread house kits at the craft store on black Friday...they were three bucks each. I bet you're thinking, was the havoc of that early Friday morning worth the twelve dollars you saved? And the answer is a resounding NO.

Moving on.

It was all easier (and cleaner) than I had geared myself up for. PRIMARILY because I ponied up the extra $3 and bought TWO little houses...so we didn't have to deal with the heartache that comes from being forced to share.

It was fascinating to watch my daughter work...she is just like me, and in this case, I just LOVE that about her (go figure). She had an elaborate design in mind and patiently stuck to her plan. She was organized and enthused about the empty canvas she had to work with. She's a girl who enjoys symmetry, balance and just a touch of whimsy in her work...and she achieves it while looking fabulous in comfortable, yet stylish clothing.

And may I also mention her undying humility?

My son was also entertaining to watch. Sure, he would decorate with the inadvertent gum drop here and there. But mostly he worked on sneaking bites of candy and licks of frosting, with a running commentary of how "TASTY!" everything was.

Once the icing was chipped off of the countertops and the candy pieces vacuumed away, I was reminded of how rewarding it is to make the effort to do these types of things with my kids.

This moral message brought to you by the mother that is currently zoned out and blogging (while my daughter plays a computer game.) Thank you.

Some advice for your trip to see Santa

2008-12-08T17:30:00.000-08:00

When it costs $20 for one 4 x 6", and when every single photo option is less than desirable, just go for the absolute worst one.

Our Little Elf

2008-12-03T11:20:00.000-08:00

I'm surprised if you haven't heard of the Elf on the Shelf yet. Here's the premise: you get a little red elf with a matching storybook. And...I'm too lazy to tell you the rest. Just go and read about it here and save me 45 minutes of typing, okay?

When you get your elf, you're supposed to name it. When my daughter first heard of this, she decided "Thomas" (because she was holding a Thomas the Train toy in her hand). I told her (discreetly!) to try again. Her second attempt produced the name that will forever be the name of our family elf:

PIEROGIE.

If you've never eaten a pierogie (some people spell it pierogi), you are missing something! We get ours from the freezer section at the grocery store and enjoy them with low fat turkey kielbasa and veggies. It's one of our favorite dinners!

Leave it to one of OUR sweet lil' spawn to name the elf after a pasta/potato/cheese delight. It's a PERFECT name for our family elf, quite frankly.

By the way, if you haven't checked it out already, visit the Elf on the Shelf website. It is absolutely adorable...a good place for kids to play around and decorate cookies, play games, and more.

My Parents are Coming!

2008-12-02T17:59:00.000-08:00

My mom arrives tomorrow afternoon (my dad will come a couple of days later) , and I can't wait. My kids are dying with anticipation, screaming "NANA!!! PAPA!!!" each and every time the doorbell rings.

In anticipation of the visit, I decided I would spruce up a little bit, beginning by moving the crib into the basement, and bringing G's train table up from the basement. After that, I would clean out the closet in the guest room, plus the space under the guest bathroom sink. An easy enough goal, right?

This little clean-out project lead to pitching things, donating more things, and re-locating piles of other things to different closets. Which SUBSEQUENTLY lead to cleaning out EVERY SINGLE OTHER closet and cabinet IN THE WHOLE HOUSE.

And then the garage.

And then the basement.

Seriously. If I didn't know with all certainty that I wasn't pregnant, I would be buying a stroller for triplets. I haven't done nesting like this since 2003.

I hate putting lights on the tree.

2008-11-29T16:34:00.000-08:00

That's all I have to say today. I really, really hate putting lights on the tree.

The only thing worse? Taking the lights OFF of the tree.

If I was a ga-billionaire, I would just leave the lights on the tree and haul it out to the curb and toss it as-is.

FORGET THAT. I would hire someone to carefully put up the lights, place the ornaments delicately upon the branches, and then...organize my drawers and closets...maybe clean the baseboards or something? Then, early on December 26, just upon finishing my first cup of coffee, that same someone would return to carefully wrap and store my lights and ornaments in a climate-controlled storage space in the eaves of the east wing of the manor. I would return from my leisurely day at the spa to find the tree removed, the decorations stored and the pine needles swept away.

We don't have an east wing. And we don't have any eaves, either. Consequently, it appears that I will be taking these lights off all by myself.

A delightful mix of thankful and depressed.

2008-11-28T10:03:00.001-08:00

We had a great Turkey day...and I didn't have to cook A THING. I had a great workout in the morning, a great big gigantic gluttonous meal, a great NAP. (And I wore my stretchy pants for the rest of the day.)

Today I woke up at 5:45 for no reason at all. So I jumped up, threw my stretchy pants back on, and decided to be a total moron and go to Target for the early bird sale (and $3.98 DVDs). I got there 10 minutes after they opened the doors....and they were totally cleaned OUT. It wasn't a total loss...I got a couple of DVDs, few good games on sale, and a skinny caramel latte at the Starbucks (thank you, Lord).

Then, I came home.
Changed clothes.
Worked out.
Got kids dressed.
(husband went to work)
Started to get Christmas decorations out from the basement.

AND THEN...I stopped. And I made a decision. I needed to take G's crib down. I needed to take it apart and put it in the basement (while I was all sweaty and running up and down the stairs anyhow). It was time to put him in the big boy bed.

As I type this, we no longer have a crib in the house. And I'm sad about that.

Some of this sadness could be due to the fact that....I woke up at the crack of dawn? I'm totally exhausted from all of the work I've done since the crack of dawn? I'm a hormonal mess of a girl?

Mostly, I believe it's due to the fact that I have looked at that beautiful cherry sleigh crib for nearly five years and now...it's gone. And it's just sad.

I took this picture on January 18, 2004. The furniture had arrived early and I was just beginning to set things up in the nursery. It was less than 5 months before we would be surprised by the arrival of a perfect baby girl.

I figure if I'm going to be depressed about this today, I'm going to take you all down with me.

I've been VINDICATED!

2008-11-26T12:04:00.000-08:00

Naysayers be GONE!

I found my new favorite site, Musical Fruitcake: A Collection of the Worst Christmas Songs Ever Created. As a LOVER of Christmas music with a broad yet discerning collection, I have found this site to be entertaining and...well, hilarious.

Guess which musical train wreck made the list on January 28th, 2007?

"Call Me Santa", from the Strawberry Shortcake Berry Merry Christmas movie. It's my absolute least favorite song on the whole DVD, which is saying A LOT, people. Please press play and listen to it JUST ONCE. You'll be living inside my own personal hell for a whole week as it runs through your brain AGAIN and AGAIN.

Tee hee hee. I love being right.

Worst Christmas DVD of 2008.

2008-11-25T11:27:00.000-08:00

I am a sucker for nostalgia, and this DVD immediately grabbed the heartstrings of my 6-year-old heart.

First of all, let's be clear about this nostalgia business from the get-go: we are not dealing with the Strawberry Shortcake of yesteryear. Here is our matronly, inflated bonnet wearing, yarn-haired 1980's Strawberry Shortcake (Lord bless her and her little corrective shoes):

And here is the NEW Strawberry Shortcake, breaking in the new trends and breaking hearts (and fyi, her Huckleberry Pie is no longer a country bumpkin) ...and I think we now know where Katie Holmes gets her denim fashion inspiration:

Aside from the disappointment of the Swan-like makeovers, the story line of the DVD remains sweet enough. And I will say, in an effort to be well-rounded, that my daugher absolutely LOVES this video.

But my sweet little daughter cannot type. And therefore, she doesn't get to voice her opinion on this blog. So, in the end, my friends....be warned: the music in this DVD will make you want to leave the country. And while the other Strawberry Shortcake DVDs have a similar soundtrack (we own this one and this one), THIS Christmas one is the worst of ALL. It will make you run to put on your headphones and listen to the Macarena on repeat.

Okay, I'm done whining now.

But WAIT. I'm not done yet. Have you SEEN what they've done to sweet little prairie-dwelling Holly Hobbie? I wasn't sure you could put a cartoon character through puberty until I saw Holly's recent makeover.

I'm done. Really.

Best Christmas DVD of 2008.

2008-11-24T18:04:00.000-08:00

The Muppet Family Christmas came out in 1987, and I remember watching this one when I was a kid. I still absolutely LOVE it. It features MOST of my favorite Muppets (sadly, Sam the Eagle is missing?), PLUS the Sesame Street cast.

Since my kids weren't raised on Muppets, they were relieved mid-movie to spot the Sesame Street guys coming into view. It was interesting to hear them yell "WHERE'S ELMO?" and "WHERE's ABBY CADABBY?"...and while Elmo WAS there, he was merely a backup dancer for Gonzo and Camilla. Watching it made me realize how much they have phased out Oscar, the Count and Snuffy...in favor of a speech-impeded baby bear? Bleh.

Anyways, the kids from the 80's will also appreciate the appearance of the Fraggles from Fraggle Rock!

I will admit that I am a bit disappointed that the Dozers did not appear in this video, as they were always my favorite on Fraggle Rock. I think it's because they looked like green marshmallows and I sort of always wanted to bite one of them.

Stay tuned for my least favorite Christmas DVD of 2008.

Come to think of it, it may be arriving in your very own mailbox---postmarked from me---any day now...

Kill some time and take this quiz.

2008-11-21T11:38:00.000-08:00

I am Richard, the Chief of Staff of Seattle Grace. Here's what I like about my Grey's Anatomy twin:

he's smart
he's obviously a good leader
everyone thinks he's smart and a good leader because he's the CHIEF
he probably makes a lot of money because he's smart and a good leader
he is compassionate and kind to his co-workers
he gets to boss everyone around

Here's what stinks about Richard:

he cheated on his wife
he's a cheater
he's a dirty dog cheating cheater
he yells a lot

Other than that, I'm thrilled with my results.

Now YOU take the quiz HERE and tell me which Grey's character YOU are.

Alice's Wedding!

2008-11-17T11:05:00.000-08:00

Oh, girls. I am just too darned OLD for this kind of thing. A three-day weekend wedding celebration? Out past 9:30 for THREE NIGHTS IN A ROW? I am exhausted. But my sweet friend Alice pulled off a gorgeous wedding, her handsome groom stole the show (he SANG at the reception!) and everyone had a blast.

We hosted a party for her on Thursday night, which was at one of our favorite college haunts. They have a big old patio and fantastic queso. Those were really our only requirements for a good dive back in the day....and it's still delicious!

This hideous pink beaded crown? It's a girlfriend tradition. Every single one of us has worn it for their bachelorette party. I think every new bride sort of wishes it might disappear before their OWN party. Oh how I wish I could dig up the pictures of ME wearing it?! Darn it.

My friends are a riot. Really.

My photos only show the fun Thursday night party...I was too lazy to drag my ginormous camera around for the rest of the weekend. You'll just have to take my word for it that there was an actual wedding ceremony amidst the other celebrations.

Bonus: I got to meet ROBIN, and she got the picture to prove it! I was a little nervous to meet her, but let me tell you, that girl is big fun. And she's cuter in person than her pictures could ever show! We talked about a myriad of things....the dogs, the trip, I saw the scar (ouch!!), and among our many random topics? We finally figured out the name of that cut of diamond where it's sorta rounded in the middle and on the sides but pointy on both ends.

TRIVIA: Do YOU know the name of that one? You can't cheat and look it up. (Matt had to look it up for us).

P.P.S. After we took this shot, we both looked at the image in the back of the camera and simultaneously but separately declared "I'M PALE!" and "I'M A GIANT!" (I'll let you deduct who yelled what). And so....Robin, I need to tell you the truth. You really aren't that pale...it's just that...I'll admit...I got a spray tan before I left for Texas. Mingling with the beautiful people of Dallas brings my insecurities to the surface and sends me into the arms of the nearest spray tanner. I hope that makes you feel better. ;-)

Why I'll never need a foot warmer under my desk

2008-11-12T08:45:00.000-08:00

He donknow.

2008-11-11T12:16:00.000-08:00

Conversation during our car ride home from preschool:

Bucket: Momma, I gotta time out.

Mom: You got a time out?

Bucket: Yeah, I gotta time out.

Mom: When did you get a time out?

Bucket: I donknow.*

Mom: Yes you do. Did you get a time out at school?*

*(insert repeat of previous two answers/questions)

Bucket: Yes, I gotta time out at school. I cry.

Mom: You cried?

Bucket: Yeah, I cry.

Mom: Why did you get a time out?

Bucket: I donknow.

Mom: Yes you do. Why did you get a time out?

Bucket: I donknow. I cry.

Mom: What did you do to get the time out?

Bucket: I gotta time out. I cry.

The conversation proceeds like this for the remainder of our ride home. My super-sleuth interrogation skills have culminated in the following information (along with a bruise on my forehead from banging it against the steering wheel):

There was a time out at school.
The teacher put him in a time out at school.
He cried.
He doesn't know why he went to time out.
He threw a cupcake.
He threw a cupcake and got a time out.
He threw the cupcake outside on the playground (where they do not have food under any circumstance)
He threw sand in the sandbox on the cupcake. Inside.
It was a real cupcake.
It was a toy cupcake.

So, does anyone out there speak toddler? Until then, I have an email out to the teacher, titled: 'I'm afraid to ask.'

If only it was Wordless Wednesday.

2008-11-07T17:48:00.001-08:00

The title of this blog post would be: "Go upstairs, clean up your toys and get dressed. It's time for church."

Last week's show....

2008-11-03T12:55:00.000-08:00

Now, right away when my friend Heba got cast on the show, I just KNEW she would be stirring up the pot. I used to play softball with her and Ed, and she would never EVER shy away from protesting a bad call or just talking some good old fashioned smack to the opposing team (as I winced from first base). So, even though I should have been prepared....oooOOooooh man....last week's episode made me shift in my seat a little!

I was at the preschool Halloween parade last week (Halloween event #5, for the love of Pete), chatting about the show with another mother, when another friend overheard us discussing the show and heard the name "Heba".

"UGggggHhhhhhhh....I do NOT like that girl!" she interceded.

And then everyone around me started to laugh.

As she removed the foot from her mouth and tried to backpedal her way back from whence she came, I tried to explain to her that I was absolutely NOT offended....that this was a TV show for goodness sakes, and she is, for all practical purposes, a TV character. It's not like I can't imagine what it must look like from their perspective. (Frankly, if I had any trouble in that department I could go straight to the message boards....people, it ain't pretty)

Whoo, boy. This just gets more and more interesting.... I think it's the most heated season of BL to date!

Halloween 2008

2008-11-02T16:44:00.000-08:00

Halloween has come and gone, and I'm so glad it's over. Has anyone else out there noticed that October 31st has morphed into a week-long celebration? And while it has been fun, it has culminated in a weekend that has been exhausting. Even if this hadn't been a busy weekend from start to finish, the dumb stupid time change alone is enough to wear me out.

Here is our cowboy and our "scary fairy" (who later decided she'd rather be a glamourous bat):

Here is the boy at our third Halloween party...eating his plate of donut holes and candy corn and chocolate-dipped pretzels:

And here he is on the way home after he wet his pants at the party where he ate donut holes and candy corn and chocolate-dipped pretzels:

Lastly, I'll briefly mention that SOMEbody within our household won the neighborhood costume contest. And that SOMEbody was a boy. And he also has more than two legs. And he's overweight and tiger-striped. And he was named after Arnold Drummond on Diff'rent Strokes. And he's sort of smells.

But seriously, you'll have to guess who.

Next she'll want her red stapler.

2008-10-30T16:07:00.000-07:00

We've been fighting "nap time" around here for the past few months, and have gone from getting 3 good naps out of 7 tries to about ZERO. Changing the verbage to "room time" has helped a little bit, but it's still an exhausting battle every day. As any mother can attest, this is nothing short of depressing. It is the end of that sweet hour (or two!) of silence and freedom.

Some of us in this household haven't been affected by this recent turn of events. But I'm not bitter.

I typically spend my hour(s) of free time in my office in front of my computer, in earshot of my daughter banging her forehead against the wall when boredom strikes. In the middle of one of her protests yesterday, I had a brilliant idea.

I set up an "office" for her right beside me....a cleared out drawer filled with new markers, activity books, writing practice books, puzzle books, construction paper, stickers, scissors, glue (perhaps a mistake?) and, of course, some coloring books.

We've agreed that she'll have about 45 minutes of room time, followed by office time until brother wakes up. She alerts me when she is ready to leave her room by announcing, "I think I need to get some work done." She absolutely loves her office, and has been faithful to sit beside me working peacefully, only interrupting me every once in a while to show her latest creation or ask me how to spell something.

I'm thrilled to announce that she's in the middle of creating her first novel, titled "The Boy Who Climbed Up the Mountain With His Dog"...here's a sneak peak of the book jacket:

It's called empathy.

2008-10-28T11:27:00.000-07:00

Typically we pray before a meal, which usually includes a long list of thank-yous from each child. You know, thank you Lord for food, for mommy, for daddy, for caterpillars, for napkins, for jack-o-lanters...that type of thing. But lately we've taken to praying for our day in the car in the morning. Whether we are on our way to school or on our way to run some errands, I figure we need all the help we can get. Plus it's a good way to hear what's going on in the tiny brains of my big-headed children.

As we prayed in the car the other morning, I had to remind the kids that we can also ASK for things when we pray. Like...if we need help to be kind to people? Or if we don't know how to be brave if we're feeling scared? Or if we just want to have a fun day at school?

Before bedtime that night, I noticed my daughter's room was particularly messy. This was AFTER I told her to clean it up about 14 times (have I mentioned how I loathe repeating myself to non-obedient children all day and night? that's another post entirely.) I asked her why she didn't clean it. Her body slumped down into the pillows.

"I prayed and asked Jesus to come and clean my room."

SIGH.

"And he didn't do it."

Listen, kid...I've prayed to be effortlessly thin since the fourth grade. I'm identifying with your pain today.

2 Years, 8 Months & 14 Days.

2008-10-23T19:35:00.000-07:00

Oh my little boy....I'm racked with guilt even as I type how old you are, as my intention while starting this blog was to write about you and your happenings every month! Every week! To jot things down on my phone and upload it later! TO NEVER FORGET A BREATH THAT MIGHT ESCAPE YOUR BODY!

Sadly, that has not come to pass. And the last time I wrote about your sister I was plagued with the same guilt. So, I will move on and ask Satan to please take a step behind me, thank you very much. And let's just get to talking about what you're doing these days as a busy near-three year old.

Your vocabulary continues to astound us all, considering you were once feared to be a speech impaired toddler. You recently have decided to say "WELL...." before every statement. "WELL....I dunno." or "WELL...No." or "WELL...that's not very nice." (you say that last one to your sister...a lot.) I'm not sure why you need to qualify your statements with a notion that you're considering many other options. I mean, it's not like there are a lot of answers to the question 'do you need to go potty?' Regardless, you put on a very dramatic show of deliberation any time you are spoken to.

Which leads me to believe there is a brain in there. This is a relief. Because logic and reason aren't your strong suits. You enjoy climbing the staircase from the outside banister. You love throwing toys off the balcony (taking chandelier pieces down on the way). I can tell you not to do something four hundred times and punish you for it, and sure as sunshine you'll try it just ooooooooooonce more. Because THIS time, just THIS one time just MAY be the time mommy WON'T hear me filling up the bathroom sink with water on full blast?

Dressing you is an exercise in patience and physical endurance. This is because you love nothing more than to RUN. AROUND. NAKED. There is something about being de-clothed that causes you to giggle and squeal and run around the top level of the house like a maniac. All I will say is that getting you dressed in the morning requires a precarious straddle position...in order to free up my hands to get the clothes on your writhing body. And I plan on punishing you for this hardship by telling this story to every girlfriend you ever bring home to us.

Because they'll never love you the way I love you, and I plan to see to it that NO WOMAN EVER GETS THE CHANCE, SO YOU'LL LIVE WITH ME FOREVER. Bahahahaaaaaaa!

Wait. What? Did I just type that? My eyes just rolled into the back of my head for a second. Sorry about that. Moving on.

Because of your desire to be naked, I can only believe that one day you will live in a nudist colony. Or you'll just be in jail because you run around naked in public. Either way, son, I will love you forever.

You have a laugh that absolutely slays me. You are the most ticklish boy I know. You take it out on the dog and tell him he's a "BAD DOG!" when you're feeling frustrated. You love to sing and your teachers say you're the best singer in the class. You hug so intensely it can hurt my neck sometimes. Snack is your favorite meal of the day. Your favorite show is Super Why. When you want to be carried you say, "Can I hold you, Mommy?" You will fight tooth-and-nail for a toy you feel is rightfully yours (which, let's face it, is most of the toys within your eyesight). You are still in love with your Pancake and you still suck your thumb....and it's still adorable. I guess that's because you're my baby.

You are the most fun-loving, hilarious and sweet little boy that ever was born (a heartfelt 'sorry' to all readers who have sons), and I can't wait to see what you'll do next! As long as it doesn't involve another trip to the Emergency Room, okay?

Me Oh My,

2008-10-22T17:08:00.000-07:00

I am just behind the 8 ball over here. I'm behind by two weeks, aren't I? I'll catch you up:

We're still loving the B L*oser over here, still rooting for Heba! Every Tuesday. Now don't get too worked up about this, but I'm fairly darn 99.98% certain that you will see me with my husband during the finale episode. Goodness gracious. It makes my backside sweat just to think about how I wasn't even wearing lip gloss.

They filmed some "social scenes" with some friends, and without giving anything away, I'll say that the highlight of it all was a cookies & cream cake with chocolate icing that we HAD to eat for shooting purposes. I have never had such a deep and intimate connection with a slice of cake in my life. I am lusting for it even as I type, and am still bitter that the leftovers got sent home with another couple.

Isn't it sad when all I have to discuss (after two weeks of blogging absence) is A CAKE?

Call it sad all you want. I call it THAT. GOOD. It really was.

Moving on. George got his first bad report at school this week. That really stunk. Can somebody tell me what is it about getting bad reports at school that simultaneously

1. deflates my mommy ego,
2. makes me mad at my son, but really mostly disappointed in myself, and
3. sorta makes me have a sudden distaste for the teacher...as if it's HER fault?
4. makes me then feel bad for blaming the teacher, making me realize I'm not only a bad mother, but a bad person in general.

I had a conversation with one of my best friends about a hard report she got from her child's teacher today, and I found myself giving her advice that I myself do not heed...like, don't shoot the messenger, this is what you and your child need to get better, take it in stride, blah blah blah blaaaaahhhh.

And all the while I'm sitting over here reading up on homeschooling and wondering, is 3:24 p.m. is too early to have a beer?

How Could I Forget?

2008-10-10T07:41:00.000-07:00

The BL show last night was just HEARTbreaking. Wasn't it? I think I tried to mentally block it from my mind. That must've been why I forgot to write about it (thanks, Leslie!).

I had the pleasure of watching the show with Ed & Heba, which made it all the more gut-wrenching. And I'll admit it was a little weird to cry like a baby about a television story unfolding before my eyes...and then look over and see the REAL people from the television. As I wiped the snot from my face.

BOOO for Ed going home. But doesn't he look amazing since he's been back? Yahoooo!

As for who is left (aside from Heba, of course)...I think I like Vicky and Brady and for whatever reason, I kind of like the purple team. The mom just cracks me up. Plus, I liked how Amy came back and admitted she was wrong. Very cool.

I've gotta say, I wish Coleen would've gone home. And/or, I wish Michelle from the pink team would've gone home...I'm tired of watching her cry every week, and her story is sorta boring. I also wouldn't have been upset to see the red team disappear.

I thought this was a pretty funny clip of Phil...he apparently was a tad bit of an annoyance to some at the ranch?

My Advice, in Photos: Halloween Edition

2008-10-09T13:36:00.001-07:00

Buy one of these fun Halloween house kits to decorate with your kids on a rainy day.

Do not buy one on the clearance shelf on November 15th and save it in your basement for a year. Gingerbread doesn't like to live in the basement.

So I've been told.

Get your kids naked and put them in adorable aprons you've made together. They're going to get messy. So you'd be smart to take off that nice clothing!

If you forget to do that step, just go ahead and let them decorate away and fake like you did it with a photo shoot AFTER the fact. Who cares if they stain the clothes a little?

Do not do a big photo shoot with a Halloween house project on the day your daughter insists on wearing a red velvet Christmas dress. It will just look silly.

The little one isn't going to do anything but eat the house decorations. Resist the urge to encourage his creative spark and just let him lick the bowl.

Try not to write words on your house. It will end up looking like you tried to spell out "PAD BOO" when you really meant to just write "BOO" with some windows above it.

My final advice is to put the house on a very high shelf (instead of the kitchen table) so that you won't catch your son running around with purple goo oozing from his mouth every five minutes.

The end.

Just in time for Halloween: the "Childrens' Terror" section at your local library

2008-10-07T11:32:00.000-07:00

I am reminded, time and again, that not EVERY book from the local library is an excellent book for children.

We go every once in a while and fill up a giant tote bag with (briefly considered) bright, colorful hardback books, hopefully none of them 87 pages long, and hopefully none of them in a foreign language (we've definitely made that mistake before, due to the fact that my son is inexplicably drawn to that section), hopefully none about death, divorce and/or puberty.

So, we picked up a book yesterday with a charming old cover featuring two pigs strolling along, arm-in-arm. Published in 1976. Right away I liked the look of it. "Mr. & Mrs. Pig's Night Out". Reminded me of books I used to read when I was a little girl.

Beautifully illustrated, it starts by introducing us to the family of pigs...Mr. & Mrs Pig, along with their ten adorable piglets. Mrs. Pig explains that she and her husband are going out on the town and they will be getting a babysitter for the children.

The pig children are uneasy. This is a new sitter and they don't know her. Mrs. Pig explains that she is sure the sitter will be just fine. She doesn't know her name, of course, but she comes from 'the agency', so she should be nice. Piglet kids are getting nervous..and rightfully so.

Sitter arrives. Turns out she is a wolf dressed in a dark hat and face-shielding trenchcoat. On a dark and rainy night. Mrs. Pig is so busy getting ready for her big night out, she notices not that her babysitter is: 1. totally ominous looking, and 2. a WOLF WHO EATS PIGS.

I'm getting a little nervous as I'm reading this now to my kids, realizing I don't know how this is all going to turn out, and darnit, I should've looked it through before I sat down to read it.

Several other comments later about how Mrs. Pig is "too busy" to notice, the Pigs leave Mrs. Wolf with the ten piglets. And Mrs. Wolf promptly walks up the stairs and takes a piglet from his bed and tries to put him in the oven and eat him. (But not without some disturbing narrative to accompany it:)

Did that say "longingly"? Um. Gross. The illustration style is starting to look much less charming on this page, isn't it?

My kids are clinging to me now. Back to the story.

Luckily, the other nine pigs were on their guard, knowing what a dimwit their mother was. They use a blanket to smother the wolf (Skipped reading aloud the part about the thrashing tail, loud wolf growling, etc...ad-libbed lots of words like 'silly!' and 'wrestling!' and 'teamwork!') and they tie her up and leave her on the kitchen floor.

In the end, Mr. and Mrs. Pig come home, say a jovial "WHOOPSIE!" to one another, and promptly kill Mrs. Wolf by throwing her into a nearby river.

Well, all righty then. Night night, kids!

4 Things I'm Ashamed to Admit.

2008-10-03T08:57:00.000-07:00

Jen tagged me to do this one. I think it's one of the easier ones I've ever had to do. Really, all I needed to do is open my iTunes playlist and pick at random...it's filled with humiliation. For your reading pleasure, I'll try to dig a bit deeper. So, here goes:

1. I love driving a mini-van. I think it's the most comfortable and convenient thing I've ever motored around in. And I secretly think my van is cooler than everyone else's. Oops, did I say that out loud? Oh, you say I've said it out loud SEVERAL times? Oh well. Then I guess I very VOCALLY believe my van is the coolest. There, I said it.

2. I am a snob about jeans and shoes. I think everyone needs to update their jeans and their shoes every year or two, and I don't see any excuse not to do it. I am a horrible person, I know. I'm ASHAMED, okay? But I'm not expecting fashion perfection, people...just an EFFORT. I also can tell if you're visiting from a foreign country...just by your shoes. It's a sick and wrong gift of mine. It's a game I like to play only while in the company of people who love me unconditionally, and it's super fun to play while at an amusement park. I know, I hear what you're saying...'the loser driving the mini-van gets to judge MY footwear?' Unfortunately, the answer is YES. Yes, I do get to judge your footwear. And apparently you need to re-read number 1 on my list? Moving onto number 3:

3. Sometimes when I talk to my husband while he's at work I pretend that things at home are going a lot worse than they really are. Just so he'll feel kinda sorry for me. And so he'll disregard the sound of Oprah on the television in the background. And so he'll take me out to dinner.

4. I loved George Michael when I was in third grade, I STILL love him (only for his music, I promise), and I was shocked to learn he was gay. I would like to say that I was only nine when I heard the news of his homosexuality. But sadly, I should have known better.

Thankful

2008-10-02T08:22:00.000-07:00

I sat down to lunch today with my son, which is always a treat in and of itself, because I rarely get to spend alone time with either one of my children. (I absolutely LOVE when I can get one all to myself.)

We blessed our lunch together and talked about what he learned at church today (we go to bible study together on Wednesdays.) Then we talked about what we are thankful for.

These are both pretty broad topics for a 2.5-year-old. So I told him we should think of things we really really like and that we're so thankful for....because God gives us EVERYTHING and he loves a thankful heart.

Here was my son's list of thankfulness for the day (might be lost on you if you haven't seen Cars or played with a train table recently):

Lightning McQueen
Mater
Thomas the Train
Ketchup
Snacks
Apples
Sandwiches
Drinks
Soap
Those Things (pointing to the box of Halloween decorations on the counter)

In the middle of a hectic day, a little moment like this will happen and I realize I've been moving too quickly from one task to the next, between drop-off to the pick-up, bath time to bed time, feeding and cleaning and cooking and wiping and reading the same storybooks over and over...

He has such a sweet little heart. Both of my kids do! And I pray today that my work as a parent will only make their hearts grow sweeter, and that I will remember to stop, to listen and to enjoy this precious time I have with them. It's already going by too quickly.

(OH, and this also reminds me that he is MY SON, as he and I would like to douse every food that crosses our lips with delicious Heinz ketchup. And while he might not have a brand preference YET, there is hope. A refined palate like mine comes in due time.)

A brand new RV!

2008-10-01T11:03:00.000-07:00

I cannot believe how well my orange team is doing. It's awesome!! I loved this episode, loved the kayak challenge, loved watching them throw that dumb ball around in the grand canyon and then take a nap (AHAAAAAAAAAaaaa!...I would TOO if I was free from the tyranny of a trainer for a few days), loved the RV. I was sorta sad to see Jerry go, but was SO pleasantly SHOCKED to see how well he had done on his own! YEAH!! You showed ME a thing or two, Jerry.

Rah rah rah. Enough of that. Now HERE is what bugs me about the show:

Have you EVER seen so many shameless product plugs in your life? I mean, ENOUGH already with the 5-calorie Ex*tra gum! The Jenn*ie-O Turkey! The Zip*loc vacuum bags! Urgh. They're not even trying to be slick about it anymore.

Here's another thing that bugs me. I don't feel like they are giving those women good sports bras, and sometimes it looks downright painful. Being a larger woman MYSELF, I know that there are some awesome choices out there for bras that hold everything in place. Sure, you have to refinance your mortgage to purchase one, but I am PRETTY sure that those fools at NBC can afford to buy some top-of-the-line brassieres. They could even write "EXTR*A GUM HAS 5 CALORIES" for all I care. Pay some interns to hold them up. For the love of pete, I'm not picky.

WHEW. THat felt good. But other than that? LOVE the show, can't wait for next week. Heba tells me it's gonna be a REAL doozie!!

P.S. Are you following me yet? Click that box over on the right and DO it. I want to know who you are and follow you, too! This is fun.

If we can't laugh at ourselves...

2008-09-29T08:15:00.000-07:00

Villains?

2008-09-28T08:09:00.000-07:00

I am getting the feeling from some un-biased friends that my Orange team has become the "villain" team.

I knew they'd NEVER be boring to watch!