Domestic Engineering

At The Carwash

2012-02-05T11:56:00.001-08:00

I am an awesome mother…on most days. I know that one of the things mothers shouldnever do is compare our mothering skills, but we do. In our moments of self loathing, we doubt ourparenting choices and skills. We all have “friends” on facebook that keepus posted on how amazing they and their kidsare. We hear about their fantasticfamily trips, their made from scratch meals, and the numerous awards that theirkids win. We rarely hear about the messy stuff... the things about motherhoodthat we all can relate to. I give youone of my Epic Fails in motherhood to make you all feel better. (At least you were not THAT mother....)

June 21st, 2011

In the past three weeks, I have survived a 3,000 mile familyroad trip and little C's tonsillectomy and recovery. Who knew that on top ofthat, today, the summer solstice would bring with it an epic Mommy Fail moment.

I was rocking it today. It was one of those days when thingswere getting done and the kids were cooperating. I was feeling great about mymommy skills. I even listened to the Vacation Bible School CD four times in arow. That in itself deserved a few gold stars.

One thing I have learned about parenting is to enjoy themoment, because it could all go from calm to insane in no time flat... which isjust what happened - my Epic Mommy Fail moment.

It was another blistering day of 100 degree heat. Themeteorologists were excited, yapping about a 15 percent chance ofrain. At some point in the morning they mentioned that (or suggested that) weshould all wash our cars to bring on the rain. My 4 year old, Little C, heardthis and begged me to get a car wash after her post-op doctor appointment.Sweet! (If that can be the bribe forgood behavior at the doctor's, it is a win win as far as I am concerned.)

I fill up my car withgas and get the receipt with the carwash codeprinted on it. I should be suspicious when I notice that the code is 666. Baby A is happily babbling in the car and C ischomping at the bit waiting for the rainbow colored soap. We very slowly drivethe "swagger wagon" in, savoring the moment when the under carriageis being washed. I remind C to make sure that her little pop-out window is, infact, closed. She cheerfully yells, "Check!"

I put my car into park and just as the car wash begins toreally get going, baby A begins to scream (not a fan of car washes). Little Cis giggling and singing, "At The Car Wash, doobie doobie doo....MOMMY, mywindow is open. I am getting wet!!!" I launch myself over the seats untilI am at the back of the van and pop the window back into the locked position. Cfinds this whole thing hilarious and is laughing. Baby A is screaming. Since Iam in the back seat, I attempt to calm her down and give up when she hurtles abook at me.

The little sign in the car wash now flashes CRYSTAL CLEANRINSE, the last cycle. Once again, I scramble to get to the front seat. Due tothe diaper bag in my way, I crash over the front seat armrest bonking my headsomehow on the door control button.

It is like slow motion... I hear C scream, "The doorMoooommmmmmyyyyyy." Next, I feel a fire hose force of water pummeling theinside of the car. Baby A is wailing. I fumble to find the button to close thedoor. Screw the dry cycle, I floor it out of the wash and pull into the parkinglot. I'm sobbing, baby A is screaming, and C is laughing out loud. I get outand open the door. Baby is soaked from head to foot. Her hair is wet and wateris dripping down her face. The stack of diapers I had at her feet are now bloatedwith water. I unbuckle the poor water logged baby and attempt to calm her. We are all fine, however I fear thatdown the way baby A may be in therapy, suffering from a debilitating car washphobia.

After all of that, now it had better rain, damn it!

Don’t you feel better now?

At least your were not the mother that opened her van doorin a car wash.

If you still don’t feel good about your mothering skills, dowhat I do. Go to Walmart. There is no other store that does more forimproving one's self esteem.

Investigative Photo Journalism

2012-01-28T18:20:00.000-08:00

Raising children in this day and age it tough. Back in my day, we didn't have digital cameras, we had the point, click, wind, flash cube cameras. If you wanted your photos you took them to the store, put your film in the envelope and waited several days to see if you actually took any decent photos, or if your finger was semi covering the lens. There was a learning curve, and an expensive one a that. My family had a Polaroid camera and a "snap shot" camera. The Polaroid was awesome, snap and get a sort of instant...well shake it, wave it around in the air, blow on it and slowly a semi blurry image would appear. Magic, but a little tempting. I will admit my best friend and I, in 4th grade took a picture of our butts. We thought it would be funny to send it to someone, but chickened out when we realized that my Bon Jovi poster and some of our cabbage patch panties were sort of visible in the photo. We tore up the picture and burned it in the char coal grill outside. No harm done, now one silly photo emailed to a friend can be detrimental. I have had to have the conversation with my girls ages 6 and 4 about pictures. I stressed no naked photos. Yesterday, I found the girls Fisher Price digital camera and began clicking through the photos. There was one of the carpet, one of the dog, one of Middle C's eye, a picture of poop in the potty. What? I kept clicking through the photos, different angles of feces, apparently different feces from different days. I called the girls over to me and asked who was the fecal matter photographer. Middle C proudly said, "Me! They were awesome Mommy, right?" I looked at a her and reminded her of our appropriate photo discussion . She looked at me and grinned, "My booty was not in any of the pictures, just my poopy."

Thwarted passion

2012-01-27T06:08:00.000-08:00

Last weekend I attended a wonderful conference, momcom (momcomaustin.com). Thanks to the amazing speakers, I felt something that I have not felt in quite a while, a passion for something other than motherhood. I connected with the part of me that was driven and successful. I am going to wake up a 5:00am two mornings a week to focus on my writing. I do love being a stay at home mommy, but I feel that desire to....
Really? My first focus on me morning and middle C just came down at 5:10 am to inform me she tinkled in her bed. I stripped her bed, cleaned her up and settled her in front of the TV. The dog whines to go out. I let her out, the baby starts screaming in her room. I get her settled back down just in time to wake up E for school and get her breakfast started. I let the dog in, she drinks too much water and vomits. Thank you family for supporting my endeavor.

Anatomy Lesson

2012-01-19T05:51:00.000-08:00

Let me first say that last year, I heard a speaker stress the importance ofalways using correct terminology when talking about private parts withchildren. Middle C is a very curious andprecocious child. Needless to say, shehas become very interested in naming parts. Every morning we drive past several horses, we are usually in traffic sothere is time to observe them. A fewweeks ago C piped up, “that is a boy horse because it has a penis and it ishuge!” I acknowledged her statementwithout giggling. The next morning, itdawned on her that all animals must have a penis or vagina, hence leading toseveral weeks of checking out any animal she sees and informing us as to thesex of the animal. After hearing penisand vagina being screamed from the back seat in the car a few more times, I toldher that observation is fine, but it isn’t necessary to inform everyone aboutwhat you see, that is rude. That was the end to the naming of parts phase.The other day, I had all three girls and I needed to run an errand. Baby A had a Ziploc baggie with goldfish; theother two girls are behaving nicely. Wewalk up to checkout; there is a line about two people deep. Baby A decides that she is all out of goodand starts swinging her open baggie of goldfish around showering the floor withfish. I bend down to attempt to pick upthe renegade fish when I hear Middle C screech,” The only way to tell, is toask to see his vagina or penis and we can’t do that, it’s rude!” I popped up, knocking my head on the shoppingcart handle just in time to make eye contact with the customer in front ofus. The transvestite glared at me as hegrabbed his purchases and sashayed out the door. You can imagine the discussion in the car onthe way home. Isn't parenting fun?

Lucky Sucky

2011-10-19T14:29:00.000-07:00

Middle C is on a roll, I need to take her to Vegas. If you live in Texas, you are very familiar with the "Buddy Bucks". They are the grocery stores idea of rewarding kids for good behavior in the store. If your kid is good, you can ask for buddy bucks and your kiddo can put it in the machine and "win" points. The points can be traded in for various crap made in China. Don't get me wrong, I love the idea and my kids love getting the sticker points. There is however, the slim possibility of being an instant winner. The odds are slim unless you are Middle C ,your sister has a poopy diaper, and is screaming... that is apparently the lucky combo. Last week, I went to the store to grab four quick items. Baby A was having no part in the quick trip. She pooped in the 5 minutes it took me to grab my stuff and get in line. She was being good for sitting in her own stink, and Middle C was on her best behavior. I requested a buddy buck for her...she put the money in, and pushed the button. I had already made it almost to the exit, when I heard the shrill scream of victory. "I am a winner mommy!" I whooped and hollered for her. A screamed and attempted to head butt my chest in desperation. C skipped to the line we had to stand in to get her prize. The line was 7 people long waiting to pay electric bills, get money orders, and who knows what else. A was losing it as each minute ticked by. She yanked out her hair band, threw her socks and shoes, and then proceeded to attempt in take off her diaper. Middle C was oblivious to my pain. She was skipping in a circle chanting, "I am a winner, I am a winner." After 15 minutes in line, C pranced out of the store with her coloring book and lollypop. I followed with crap on my shirt, snot in my hair, and a pissed off baby. Today I went to the store again, A pooped (must be something about the grocery store that brings on bowel movements) started screaming, and lucky ducky C was an instant winner yet again. joy

Shiny Happy People Pooping Beads

2011-10-04T19:06:00.000-07:00

Middle C likes to put things in her mouth. She is four, but still has some sort of oral fixation going on, my fault I'm sure. I am constantly telling her to not put things in her mouth. The other day we watched the Magic School Bus meets Digestion. It was all about what happens when you eat. Middle C, glances over at me and asks,"So what if I swallow a quarter?" I told her that it could hurt her delicate insides since it was so big, and she would have to go to the Doctor. After discussing the quarter, she continued to assault me with question after question of objects that she could potentially swallow. The following day she slinks into my bedroom and tells me that she is a scientist and she is "having a secret experiment". I kiss her on the forehead and mummer, "that is awesome that you want to be a scientist." I suppose that I should have probed for more information... That evening she excitedly waddles into the living room, with her princess panties around her ankles. "Check out my poop mommy, my experiment worked, I pooped out a bead, and it is still a shiny, sparkly, green. It did not even hurt, I am a real scientist now!"

Baby Daddy

2011-10-03T05:29:00.000-07:00

I love that all three of my girls look different. We have a brunette, blond, and redhead. The other day, I had to take all three to the dentist. Yeah, good times. Middle C was in the chair giggling because she burped in the face of the dental hygienist. E was studying the pictures of decayed teeth and making gagging sounds, and baby A was squirming and head butting me in the hopes of getting put down. The hygienist is smiles and pipes up with, "Your girls all look so different, do they have the same father?" I'm sure the look on my face was priceless... Bless her sweet little rude heart.

Humility

2011-10-01T10:42:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday, I was so proud of getting all three girls off to church on time, hair done, matching outfits, feeling awesome. The sermon was on humility, about halfway through the sermon, my one year old vomits all over me. I humbly walk out of the church mid sermon covered in vomit, avoiding eye contact. Awesome, thanks for the lesson.

She said what?

2011-09-20T12:32:00.000-07:00

I know that I have not posted in awhile. It has been a wild and crazy month and a half. E started Kinder, Baby A started walking, and Middle C is exploring her boundaries. Baby A has been once again honing in on her artistic talents by creating yet another Poo masterpiece. She is experimenting with corn and feces, very Avant-garde. I am thinking scholarship potential!
Yesterday was a day that made guzzling a whole bottle of wine seem pretty darn tempting. Everything was going wrong, hubby and I are arguing, Middle C is popping serious attitude, E is losing it over the fact the there is a eraser streak on her homework, and Baby A is getting 4 new teeth. ( I also have PMS) Why, oh why, did I then decide to go to the grocery store under these conditions...wine. Yes, I threw myself into the fire for a simple bottle of 4 dollar wine, and milk, and eggs, and toilet paper. The store was out of the "fun" car carts, you know those germ infected, grimy carts with the bum wheel that make going straight a near impossibility. The one that parents attempt to push around while their children a) attempt to chew on the steering wheel, or B) bolt out at the sight of candy. Baby A was screaming, and the girls were in the cart arguing who was "steering". I pull up next to a sweet 80 year old woman, who smiles at me with sympathy as I attempt to force baby A into a sitting position in the cart. Middle C jumps out of the car cart to help calm down A. She pats baby A on the bum and says, "Doesn't she have such a cute little bottom" The woman grins and says, "Well yes, yes she does." Then Middle C pipes up, "She has a really cute vagina too!"

Kotex and Kids

2011-07-30T18:44:00.000-07:00

I try to avoid the grocery store when I have all three girls with me, but sometimes necessity trumps sanity. Necessity equals milk, mini pancakes, and tampons. I piled up all of the kiddos into the swagger wagon and off we went to my arch nemesis, HEB. I scored an awesome spot and the cart with a bench attached. Things were looking good. E and C were perched in the bench seat and baby A was strapped into the front seat. We were off, I was rounding the corner at impressive speed to locate the tampons and realized that since I had been to the store last, it was now under a complete remodel. I had no idea where anything was. I stumbled across the tampons where the bread use to be, and then wandered around attempting to find the pancakes. Since I was trying so hard to locate my items, I was not really paying attention to the girls. I stopped walking to peer down an aisle when a woman tapped me on the shoulder. "Excuse lady, you are shedding tampons." What the.... I looked behind me and there was no question where we had been. Tampons strewed hap hazard down the aisle. I turned to shoot daggers at the older girls, but stopped when I noticed baby A happily gnawing on a wrapped tampon while her chubby hand thrust into an almost empty box, routing around for another kotex to toss. Do I gather up all of the tampons and purchase the box, or do I gather them up shove the open box back on the shelf and get a box that had not been handled by baby fingers? I ended up roaming the store picking up the renegade tampons avoiding making eye-contact. I bought the opened box and after making it home counted the remaining items. Apparently there are about 5 tampons unaccounted for. So if you are at HEB this week and find a sealed tampon, it is mine, I already paid for it so you can keep it.

Bosom Buddies?

2011-07-26T13:38:00.000-07:00

OK, I must admit I have not been a fan of Victoria's Secret since they discontinued my bra size and stopped sending out free pantie coupons. After taking to a friend of mine I was surprised to learn that my bra size is back in stock! VS finally realized that not all of us were going to get implants. I visited the store last week to see about this new amazing 2 cup bra. Sadly, it still took two associates to find my particular size,and that was after an associate measured my bust just to make sure I was right. I was offered a comfortable padded bra and the super +++ padded bra. OK, for 48.00, I am getting the best boob for my buck. I loved it and was feeling great, until I walked to the register to buy my "organic material" boob job. The adorable girl with a perky chest and skin tight white t-shirt flashed me a smile and chirped,"Did your friend like, come in here yesterday?" "Ummm..no I don't think so." I replied. "Oh, because a girl just about your age was in here and bought two of these 32 A bras. She said they were amazing, are you sure she wasn't your friend?". OK, thanks for saying my sad size out loud, so much for Victoria's SECRET! Apparently, those of us in the ittiy bitty committee are all BFFs?? My shopping experience was not helped by the fact that my four year old managed to almost strangle herself with a thong. As I was attempting to pull the leopard print pantie off her head she squealed, "Mommy you need to get one of these so you can play animal with me." I was temped to tell her where the thin black lace string that was now wrapped around her pony tail was suppose to be. One more thing, I do want to make sure that everyone knows that I do NOT discriminate based on chest size.

Painting with Pooh...I mean Poo

2011-07-12T19:32:00.000-07:00

I am thrilled to announce that we have another artist in the family. Now two of my children, have chosen an organic medium to explore. Let me explain... It was a glorious day. My older children were out with daddy and baby A was asleep. I was making good headway on the three baskets of clean clothes that I had been ignoring for the past week. Sure enough, 3/4 of the way done I heard baby A babbling over the monitor. I figured that she was content, so I continued to fold. Baby A's babble turned to squeals of joy, I smiled as I folded the last pair to pet shop panties. I grabbed a basket of clothes, and trudged up the stairs. I pushed open A's door and my olfactories were accosted by a distinct odor. I sighed, as I quietly padded into her room. I wanted to see what she was so happy about...that's when I saw it. A soiled diaper lay mostly empty in the middle of her floor. Her beautiful pale pink gingham crib bumper was now streaked with a hideous shade bluish brown (thank you blueberries). I gasped as soon as I saw baby A's little head pop up. My sweet little redhead now resembled a brunette. Begrudgingly, I peered into the crib to examine the magnitude of the smelly mess. There it was, an amazing piece of artwork streaked across the wall. My little avant-garde artist stared at me quizzically while I gagged. This was not my first child to attempt to be Poo-casso. Sadly, I have considerable experience attempting to clean a textured wall that has been smeared with Doo Doo Brown. The irony of it is, is that the only stuffed toy that she chose NOT to artistically embellish was Pooh.

Whatever it is ….my sister did it

2011-06-24T14:51:00.000-07:00

Sisters...I never had one. I have a brother 10 years younger than me, so I am completely unprepared for the sassy sisterhood that I am witness to every day. My 5 year old E,has an adorable sprinkling of freckles on the bridge of her nose. My middle daughter is freckle free and I am well... splattered with them. Growing up I hated my freckles until someone told me that freckles were angel kisses. E is thrilled when she finds another tiny freckle on her nose. She sings about it, she draws pictures about it, and she makes sure C knows that she is chosen one, and C is not. The other day she was dressed up in her fairy dress singing,"The angels love me can't you see! They don't like C. They only love me!!!" This of course caused C to become hysterical about her lack of angel kisses. "The angels don't love me, they only love E." This week however brought with it some excitement. C streaked out of the shower giddy with joy. "See Mommy, angels do love me, I have my first kiss." "Awesome!", I said until I noticed her shaking her little fanny around. "Where is this new little freckle?" "It is on my bottom Mommy, angels love my bottom!!" she shrieked with joy. E stumbled out of the shower in search of all of the celebration. C began chanting, " Angles love my bottom, Angels love my bottom." E rolls her eyes in disgust, "You are so gross C". C starts to sob and then pipes up in her shrill little voice, "You are just mad because Angels don't like YOUR bottom because it is stinky!" Now both girls are crying and my little 11 month old crawls into the room and whacks her head on the chest of drawers, she joins in on the wail fest. I just hope C doesn't decide to show of her angel kiss at Sunday School.

By the way, following my epic fail at the car wash, it did in fact rain 2 inches that evening. Those of you in Texas that enjoyed the rain, your welcome.

Epic Fail Mommy Moment

2011-06-21T17:58:00.000-07:00

In the past three weeks, I survived a 3,000 mile road trip and little C's tonsillectomy and recovery. Who knew that today, the summer solstice would bring with it an epic mommy fail moment. I was rocking it today. It was one of those days when things were getting done and the kids were cooperating. I was feeling great about my mommy skills. I even listened to the Vacation Bible School CD four times in a row, that in itself deserved a few gold stars. One thing I have learned about parenting is enjoy the moment, because it could all go from calm to insane in no time flat...hence my epic fail mommy moment. It was another blistering day of 100 degree heat. The meteorologists were, excited yipping about a 15 percent chance of rain. At some point in the morning, they mentioned that we should all wash our cars to bring on the rain. My 4 year old heard this and begged me to get a car wash after her post op Dr. appointment. Sweet, if that can be the bribe it is a win win as far as I am concerned. I filled up my car with gas and got the receipt with the code printed on it. I should have been suspicious when I realized that the code was 666. Baby A was happily babbling in the car and C was chomping at the bit waiting for the rainbow colored soap. We slowly drive the swagger wagon in. Savoring the moment when the under carriage is being washed. I remind C to make sure that her little pop out window is in fact, closed. She cheerfully yells, "Check!" Just as the car wash begins to really get going, baby A begins to scream, not a fan of car washes. Little C is giggling and singing, "At The Car Wash doobie doobie doo....MOMMY, my window is open I am getting wet!!!" I launch myself over the seats until I am at the back of the van and pop the window back into the locked position. C finds this whole thing hilarious and is laughing, baby A is screaming. Since I am in the back seat, I attempt to calm her down and give up when she hurtles a book at me. The little sign in the car wash now flashes CRYSTAL CLEAN RINSE the last cycle, so once again I scramble to get to the front seat. Due to the diaper bag in my way, I crash over the front seat arm rest bonking my head somehow on the door control button. It was like slow motion... I hear C scream, "The door Moooommmmmmyyyyyy." Next, I feel a fire hose force of water pummeling the inside of the car. Baby A is wailing. I fumble to find the button to close the door. Screw the dry cycle, I floor it out of the wash and pull into the parking lot. I'm sobbing, baby A is screaming, and C is laughing out loud. I get out and open the door. Baby is is soaked from head to foot. Her hair is wet and dripping down her face. The stack of diapers I had at her feet are now bloated with water. I unbuckled the poor water logged baby and attempted to calm her. We are all fine, however I am sure some how down the way baby A may be in therapy for suffering from a debilitating car wash phobia. Now it had better rain damn it!

Wicked Queen Foiled Again

2011-05-21T15:52:00.000-07:00

Here I sit amongst yet another pile of laundry, my 10 month old grins at me as she tumbles over my leg with a dirty sock in her mouth. I think to myself, perhaps I can teach her to fetch the pairs of boxers that seem to pile up next to the shower. In my attempt to make my life easier I have decided to distribute chores and demand help from my little minions. Little C's idea of cleaning her room is shoving everything under her bed, when I reprimanded her for it she placed her little arms on her hips and stated, "I am a princess and you are the Wicked Queen". My response was a bit juvenile, "If I see anything left on this floor I will cast a spell on you." I popped back in her room a few minutes later, the floor was spotless but every piece of furniture had something picked up from the floor on it. There she sat, the little princess with a smug little grin on her four year old face. Foiled again, apparently the Wicked Queen needs to work on the delivery of her demands. I so need a drink out of my 30 proof caldron.

In other random news...I have embraced the swim dress, no maintenance needed. I really can't deal with another chore.

Kibble in your Bits

2011-05-19T08:54:00.000-07:00

I think the problem with three kiddos is that I never seem to be GREAT at anything any more. I look back to when I was a mother of one. The floor was void of any potential choking hazards, the house was clean, laundry was done. My little one was always in the cutest outfit, her face was clean, God I was good. Fast forward five years. My sweet baby A, number three is crawling around in her diaper, her hair is dangling in her eyes, her little nose is dripping as I am attempting to sort the pile of laundry on the floor. I hear her banging around in the kitchen, I sort a few more clothes before I check on her. There she is, happily munching on dog food. I calmly extract the kibble from her mouth, sigh and relocate her to the pile of laundry. I glance over at her and she is munching away on kibble again. I once again extract the food and attempt to get back to my chore. Now I notice a kibble trail and stop what I am doing to observe. Baby A has managed to stash away fist fulls of kibble in her diaper. She roots around and her chubby little hand comes out with a morsel or two. She grins at me. I pick her up and attempt to find the squirreled away food. She has kibble in her bits! Not only has she stored the food in the front of her diaper, the little pieces are also tucked away between her little bottom cheeks. I calmly collect the food and toss it into the dog bowl. Yet another proud moment in the motherhood.

The case of the phantom poo

2011-05-16T14:57:00.000-07:00

I woke up today and noticed an all too common offensive odor wafting in from an unknown location, Poo. I first checked the downstairs changing table. I have at times, been in a rush and forgotten to throw a diaper away, because I am so awesome. I got on my hands and knees and sniffed around the room, but I couldn't find it. Was a renegade dirty diaper playing with me? After a good five minutes of sniffing, I was forced to give up. Really? I don't have time to search for the phantom poo. I took the older girls to school and walked back into my bedroom. BAMM!! The phantom had returned with a vengeance. My hubby who works from home, was hold up in his office on a conference call, couldn't be him. I checked the bottoms of my shoes, nope. Baby A was sleeping in her room upstairs. Tired of sniffing, I lit a few candles and sat down to check my email. Sniff, sniff...good Lord,there it was again! I finally put two and two together, it must be the dog. I think I just threw up in my mouth, our dog has some truly heinous anus! I will never buy generic dog food again. The case of the phantom poo solved.

Potty Play by Play

2011-05-15T10:32:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we went to a local taco eatery to celebrate E's last soccer game. For those of you that don't know me well, I suffer from IBS (I Be Sh*%ing). Well my IBS chose to rear its ugly head, no pun intended. I considered waiting to go home to feel better, but my gut had other plans. I quickly stood up to rush to the facilities. Little C asked where I was going, so I told her. Needless to say, she had to go potty too. I grabbed her little hand and we scurried to the bathroom. Luckily, it was a clean two stall bathroom. I encouraged C to go to the next stall so I could have some privacy. I was praying that no one else came into the bathroom. Then I heard the door open and two women walked in. Just then C announced, "Hey, mommy I am going poo poo just like you. We can be stinky together." I kept my mouth shut and I should know better than to ignore C, she raised her little voice to make sure that I heard her,"Mommy are you wiping now? Are you still poo pooing? Want to have a wipe race? Mommy? Mommy? Mooooommmmmmy? You can't talk while you are pooping? Can you hear me?"

There is nothing like the just stunk up the place walk to shame. Thanks to C I couldn't blame it on her. The women breathing through their mouths waiting for the stalls refused to make eye contact when I attempted to smile at them. My face was burning with embarrassment as I helped my daughter wash her hands. C looked up and said, "Mommy your

There is nothing like the just stunk up the place walk to shame. Thanks to C I couldn't blame it on her. The women breathing through their mouths waiting for the stalls refused to make eye contact when I attempted to smile at them. My face was burning with embarrassment as I helped my daughter wash her hands. C looked up and said, "Mommy your face is red, do you need to squeeze some more?"

Sassy But Classy

2011-05-13T22:55:00.000-07:00

Little C is at it again. The other day during "quiet time", she was being really quiet in her room. Mom's, we all know really quite is code for TROUBLE. I walked into her room to discover a pair of scissors, a roll of tape, and a "new skirt". "Claire!", I screamed "What did you do??" "Um...I made a skirt, don't I look trendy?" she squealed thoroughly pleased with her creativity. After further investigation, I noticed that she decided to become a fashion designer and cut up one of her shirts and used tape to fashion it into a skirt. Did little C chose a cheap Target shirt, or a hand me down Tee? Nope, only the best for my little designer..God forbid her creation not be quality. She chose to cut up a non sale Gymboree item. You know what I am taking about, one of the cute little tops that you splurge and gag when you hear the price. Yet, you justify it because it can match about three other items that you already have. I was ticked, but I had to give her credit for her creativity, she did do a fairly good job. Perhaps a career as a clothing designer is in her future, a hair stylist is not. Yes, she snipped away at her hair too...

Panty Check!

2011-05-11T10:29:00.000-07:00

From

I am back! I am finally to the point that I can blog. I have missed my time to think back over the day and laugh. I am now a mommy of three little girls, 5, 4, and 10 months. My now middle child continues to push me to my limits. Let me preface this by saying C never wears panties at night. She claims that she needs to "breath". Being the awesome mother that I am, I had not noticed that she had been going commando during the day until it was called to my attention by one of her teachers. C was sitting quietly wearing her favorite lime green dress listening to a Bible story. C is 4 year and has not quite mastered lady like sitting. Needless to say, the poor teacher reading the story was brought back to the days of Adam and Eve when she glanced over at my daughter. C unaware of the social no no reserved for only Lindsay Lohan was "breathing" (her words not mine). Not quite sure what to do after the incident the teacher convinced her to put on a pull up to go to the playground. She told C that she really didn't want wood chips in there. We now have a panty check before leaving the house and C understands that she only needs to breath at night.

Mark your territory

2010-03-16T10:04:00.000-07:00

We are in the new house! It all worked out, 5 transactions in a few hours and amazingly it all worked. The house is officially ours and our old house is officially sold. Within the first hour of living here, our geriatric dog did a little sprinkle on the carpet. The girls not to be topped by a dog, followed suit. Ella apparently didn't make it to the potty quite in time because she was trying to decide which of the four potties to use, decisions, decisions. Poor little Claire got tangled up in her panties and slipped on the ceramic tile in one of the bathrooms. This resulted in a puddle, tears, a bruised knee, and several princess band aids. Who knew how slippery real tile vs. laminate could be!
Jeff and I need to get on the ball and mark our territory too. One good belly laugh or sneeze and I might be the next one!

suck-a-saurus

2010-03-09T16:13:00.000-08:00

It is now up in the air if we close on our old house on Friday. We will close on the new house, but due to paperwork and relying on others to pull their head out of their...anyway. Needless to say, we would LOVE the money from the sale of our current house for the sale of the new one. The buyers are coming tomorrow to do a final walk through, we just found out yesterday. Our house is trashed. Boxes, piles, dust, oh my! I hope they are not expecting to see the "perfect" house that they walked through last week. I gave up on cleaning when the dirty moving boxes were drug out of the garage and landed on my freshly vacuumed carpet. Yes, I told Jeff to wipe them down, but you know how that goes. I really can't complain much, since he has to do the brunt of the work.

My attempt at giving up negativity for lent has not quite worked out, so under the circumstances I thought I would give up alcohol and sushi. I have had a prolonged lent. Seriously, since October and until July I will ignore my cravings for a dirty martini with olives and a perfectly pink slice of sashimi. I suffer, I really do...that MUST count for something.

Side-note: Jeff works from home and has embraced the dressed down, really down work week. The other day he had to go in for a presentation and Claire asked where Daddy was going. I told her that he was going to work, she looked up at me thoroughly confused and said, "But he is wearing a shirt!"

Cowboy Breakfast

2010-03-05T13:25:00.001-08:00

This morning we headed out at 6:45 for the free cowboy breakfast. The girls had a great time. Ella was a bit moody and refused to dance with anyone. She pouted and scowled when asked to dance. Mornings are just not her thing and I made things worse by asking her to smile for pictures. Claire at least had fun. Afterward we went to the mall. The girls were good until we walked through the lingerie aisle at Macy's. Claire grabbed a leopard print double D bra put it on her head and shrieked,"Look Mommy, Boobies!" Ella not one to be topped by her little sister, discovered a lovely fire red thong and lassoed it around her head giggling. I couldn't help but be mortified and crack up at the same time. How will I ever handle three of these little people???

St. Joseph is the MAN

2010-03-03T13:31:00.000-08:00

I have been MIA due to my decision to give up being negative for lent. I attempted several times to sit down and write a little something, but all I could seem to do is spew negativity. Now I have something positive to say, we have sold the house AGAIN! I am afraid to get too excited, but it is looking good. We move into our new house in less than two weeks and hand over the keys to our current house. My secret for selling the house this time, St. Joseph. I can't tell you how many people told me to buy a little St. Joseph figurine and bury it in my front yard. After two open houses, and a week of no interest I thought, what the heck. I am not Catholic, but my hubby is to some degree, so I figured that St. Joseph may find it in himself to help us out.
My girlfriend and I went to a local Christian store to pick one up. I brought the 6.99 figurine to the grandmotherly sales clerk. The sweet old woman looked me up down, her eyes resting on my pregnant belly and sighed, "Are you trying to sell a house in your condition? You poor thing." The then said a prayer over my St. Joseph, made in China, warning choking hazard, figurine and rang me up. I went home and proudly showed it to my husband. he looked at me like I was crazy when I told him we had to bury it in the front yard, facing the house upside down, with his feet facing heaven. With a shaking of his head, he took the girls out to the yard and buried him. The following day we had three showings scheduled a day later and offer on the house. Some might say it is coincidence, I say there is something to be said for a little "help".
By the way, we are having our third girl. I suppose we should have consulted a saint for that! Just kidding, I love my little one.

don't need no stinking lemons

2010-02-14T02:28:00.001-08:00

Take the lemons that life hands you and turn them into lemonade. All I can say is if I attempt to do that, the lemonade will be too darn tart. It is at most 4:00am I am hacking up a lung and I am a little ticked about the turn of events. Jeff and I escaped our stressful lives for a few days to reconnect, while my in laws came to watch the kiddos. I ended up getting sick and waiting 3.5 hours in the minor emergency. Nothing says romance like a waiting room full of snotty kids, hacking smokers, and a sobbing feverish wife. Upon returning home, we find our two sweet little ones crusty from pink eye and a pair of exhausted grandparents. Eye drops 3 X a day for a 3 and 4 year old is pure hell. The following day, I am out running errands in preparation for Claire's birthday when I get a call from our Realtor. "Are you sitting down?", she murmurers softly on the phone. I cautiously pull into a parking space and wait for the shoe to drop. Well, the buyers of our house, two weeks from closing have backed out of the deal due to the fact that one of them lost their job. Talk about a snot fest, I started sobbing and wouldn't you know it, the tissues were in the other car.
I just kept on thinking, why couldn't they lose their job two weeks from now, then it would be the banks problem not ours. Pure nasty to think that, but I did. I attempted to pull myself together for Claire's birthday. After tucking her into bed that night, I noticed that she had a fever. I woke up feeling like monkey poo about three times that night and as soon as 7:00 came around, had Dr. appointments for the both of us. Claire has double ear infection, I have a sinus infection and fatigue. I was ordered to take it easy and rest, I have a baby in my belly to think of. On top of this, Jeff is sick too, the in laws are in town, AND we have to get the house picture perfect for an open house. We have 28 more days until we close on the new house. I can't sleep thanks to a hacking cough, Claire has gotten up several times in the past two nights and for some reason my sick hubby can't hear her... I am done venting, my life sounds like a lifetime movie at the moment. I am done with spewing my negativity. I am going to find a positive thing to say before I end this post. Let me think... my bigger pregnancy boobs make me happy, sometimes I have to take a peek. Random, but that is all I got.

Stress and Bambi

2010-02-03T07:52:00.000-08:00

We are in the final stretch of the home selling/buying process and all I can say is HGTV is missing out on high drama. If you ever watch the show, the potential buyers make an offer, and very rarely is there any negotiating. You then see the happy owners in their new house a few months later. They need to show the inspection, the option period, and the appraisal. Who knew that potential buyers could come back during the option period and ask $1400 for window treatments? I will be so glad when we close on our current house, there are still so many twists and turns that we have no control over. To reduce my stress, I have been zoning out on more HGTV. One of the episodes this week really ticked me off. Let me preface this by saying thanks to pregnancy hormones I am suffering some anger issues. It takes very little to send me into a tail spin.
OK, so picture this... a beautiful blond, perfect body, in her late twenties wearing a tight fitting classy hot pink tube top, white capris, and heels. She is perched on the couch sitting next to her dream boat of a hubby discussing what she is looking for in her vacation home. "WE have a very tight budget.", she giggles. "I don't know how much of a house we can really buy for 1.8 million." I think I may have murmured a few expletives under my breath. The show went on to show the couple touring three gorgeous homes in Maui. I think the thing that send me over the edge, was after seeing all three homes the girl, lets call her Bambi began sobbing. "This is the most stressful thing I have ever gone through. Finding the right vacation home is so hard." I don't know what hit me, but my middle fingers on both hands took their position and I began yelling at poor little Bambi on the TV. Poor Bambi is facing the most stressful moment in her life, all I can say is good luck with that.

When the stars align

2010-01-25T16:04:00.000-08:00

I have been unable to blog due to the fact that I have been borderline insane for the past week. Our house was going on the market, so we had to clean, put stuff in storage, paint, and de-clutter. I wish I could say that I managed the stress gracefully, but instead I cried, wiped snot bubbles, and lost it. The stress of keeping the house perfect, with everything put away was more than I could take. We lucked out and got an offer on the house before we put it on the market. There were some tense moments as we negotiated back and fourth. In the midst of that stress, we found a "good deal" for a house in a great neighborhood. Jeff was excited, I was disgusted. A great deal meant a a nasty dirty house that needed some serious updating, not something I was anticipating with two kiddos and one on the way. Jeff tried to talk me into it and I lost it, I had a meltdown in front of the Realtor...snot bubbles and all. Needless to say, I was mortified.
The following day we saw a house that we loved and made and offer on it. Today all of the stars aligned and we sold one house and bought another. We never even had to put our house on the market. I am so relieved, no more perfectly clean and tidy house. Just for fun, I left dirty dishes in the sink and clothes on the floor, because I can.
We told the girls today and Ella had a melt down. She was so upset that we wouldn't be having an open house anymore. She wanted balloons on the for sale sign. I told her we would buy a balloon for the sold sign. Claire was thrilled and showed her enthusiasm by licking our front door and saying, "I love this house. I will miss it." Hey, at least the door was clean!

And???

2010-01-17T05:47:00.000-08:00

The other day Jeff and I decided to tell the girls about their new baby brother or sister. We had the video camera rolli1ng to catch the moment. I don't know what reaction I was expecting, but I was expecting a reaction of some sort. The moment was so anti climatic. After I told them, Claire pulled up my shirt to see my belly. She patted it and exclaimed, "I have a baby in my belly too!" Ella followed suit, pulling up her shirt and patting her belly. I love the picture that we snapped, could they look any more enthusiastic? The girls then went back to playing like nothing ever happened. Jeff kept attempting to get a reaction, they didn't seem the least bit interested. It wasn't until the following day, that I caught on to what happened. The girls thought that we were talking about a belly button. They were under the impression that all girls had a baby under their belly button, it just wasn't ready to come out yet. After much explaining and discussion, they finally caught on. Claire wants a baby sister and Ella wants a baby brother. We have the opportunity to find out the gender on Feb. 19th!

2010-01-17T05:43:00.001-08:00

Billy Goat Gruff Style

2010-01-11T12:55:00.000-08:00

I really love pregnancy hormones. Pregnancy glow? Come on, more like pregnancy grease face. Things are going seriously a rye. Yesterday, I was washing my face attempting to wash off the oil slick that had accumulated on my forehead when I noticed something. At first I thought, perhaps a piece of my hair has gotten stuck to my chin. I attempted to wipe it off, only to come to the realization that it is attached. Half an inch of hair was billowing in the breeze attached billy goat gruff style. I grabbed the tweezers and yanked that SOB out. I flew down the stairs to confront my husband. I showed him the hair and screamed, "Why didn't you say something? I have been walking around growing a beard or morphing into a goat and you never said a word??" I berated him and instituted a weekly beard scan every Friday. I am serious as a heart attack about this one. I don't want to be know in my circle of friends as Billy Goat.

organizationally challenged

2010-01-10T15:42:00.000-08:00

I have been afflicted with this condition since birth. I am lacking the organizational gene. My heart rate sky rockets, I get sweaty, and I have no idea where to begin. My house is neat and clean, but don't you dare open up any drawers or cabinets. Do you see my dilemma? We are getting the house ready to put on the market and the drawers and cabinets NEED to look neat and tidy. People want to see in your drawers and closets. I spent a good several hours in our bathroom today alternating between sobbing and sorting. I have been squirreling away every free lotion, conditioner, and shampoo since we have been married. For what...I don't know. The worst part is I had an emotional attachment to some of the bottles. Awww...I remember that hotel. Does A&E have a show, borderline hoarders?

I have been attempting to keep the girls occupied while we organize and take things to the storage unit. They have been watching movie after movie. Poor Claire is so board that she has resorted to eating her boogers. Jeff came down and saw her chewing on something. He asked her what she was eating, she said boogers. Later, I asked her why she did that she replied, "Just something to do."

Pregnant Pause

2010-01-08T12:58:00.000-08:00

I have missed my little blog and my outlet to de-clutter my mind. I am back with some interesting news...I am pregnant! My last post in Oct. mentioned wanting a third kiddo. Well, a cute pair of Halloween panties(thanks Mom) and a darn good martini did the trick. The only problem...the third kiddo was "planned" two years from now. Our infertility woes have been miraculously cured and now I am getting my tubes tied. Three for the price of one, thanks Dr. Silverburg!
I have been avoiding the blog because I was feeling so darn yucky. The thought of being remotely witty or interesting made me want to vomit. I was never sick with my other two girls, but the 1st trimester with this one was nasty. Jeff claims that it is the kryptonite penis developing inside me that made me ill. Hmmmm... could he possibly want a boy? Needless to say, the third pregnancy is a bit different especially when you are labeled "ADVANCED MATERNAL AGE". My OB chart is a hideous shade of florescent green with little hot pink stickies all over it. Despite the mortifying label, a few perks come with "age". I had a few extra sonos. In the last one, the baby began flailing his/her arm, Jeff was sure the baby was whipping around his "junk". I had to remind him that I was growing a baby not a porn star. Yes, this is what I am dealing with and he doesn't want to find out the sex of the baby.
I will do better updating my blog and thank you to those that have emailed me about missing my posts. It made me feel great. This year should be filled with many stories... baby #3 is due July, 10th. We have @ six months to sell our house, buy a bigger one, buy a mini van, and birth a child. Bring it!

Don't Mess With My Toot Toot

2009-10-19T19:54:00.000-07:00

Jeff and I have been kicking around the idea of another kiddo at some point. I know that deep down, he would love a boy. Although tonight it dawned on me, who really needs a boy when we have a Claire. Claire's new little thing is that she wants you to lay on the floor with her before going to bed. She likes chattering on about her day and tooting. Yes, that is right my little princess lets it all out before bedtime. Tonight we were laying on the floor and I was singing to her. She was twirling a piece of my hair in her little fingers when she let out one of the loudest toots I have ever heard. She whispered ,"excuse me" and then started giggling. I couldn't help myself and started laughing too. Mid giggle, she lets another one rip, and another and another. By this time, I was laughing so hard that tears were running down my cheeks. I could feel her little body tense as she attempted to one up her last pass of gas. We were both cracking up when she abruptly stopped giggling and said in a panicked little voice, "Oh, no ...I pooped!"

The Pathetic Princess

2009-10-14T12:16:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, in a not far enough away land called Germville there lived two little Princesses. Princess Elle enjoyed nothing more than putting on a show. She excelled at turning the most minuscule injury into a full blown catastrophe. Her apprentice and sister Princess Claire was a very fine study. She was quite adept at taking mental notes to increase her repertoire of limping, moaning, dramatic coughing, and wheezing. One day Elle was gallivanting through the enchanted play yard with her friends, when someone let out an oink, and then another playmate followed suit. The Queen was particularly nervous upon hearing the oinking. The next week Princess Elle awoke feeling a tad bit warm. The queen felt her head and was concerned. Elle took a deep breath and coughed. Terrified that her oldest Princess would begin to oink, the queen marched the princess to the doctor. The doctor chuckled as the Princess attempted to cough and bat her deep brown eyes. Rest, fluid, and a tea spoon of sugar should do the trick. The queen was relieved by the lack of oinking. She hugged princess Ella, snuggled up with her and told her a story. Princess Claire noticing the cuddles and pats that her sister was receiving decided to put on a show. She coughed, she moaned, she limped, she may have even attempted an oink or two. Princess Ella sighed and whispered to her sister, " I'm really sick Claire, I went to the doctor. You are not sick." The Queen was on to the act and gave Princess Claire the attention that she was craving. After the little princess were in bed the exhausted Queen took a deep breath and drank a whole bottle of whine...I mean wine.

The end

Flood, Mud=camping dud

2009-10-08T10:54:00.000-07:00

My new motto when asked to go camping again..."Camping is nature's way of promoting the motel business". I am a proud 8 hour camping survivor. Who knew camping could be so ...fun? Storms, lightning, mud, oh my! There were, I must admit glimmers of "fun", but that all seemed to be washed down the gully along with layers of soil when the storm hit. Who knew that the meteorologists would be correct when predicting 90% chance of rain? I bit my tongue and did not yell, "told you so" at the top of my lungs. I sucked it up to the best of my ability. The pictures were before the torrential down pour. I learned that it is all fun and games until lighting strikes 60 feet from you. The crack of thunder after the lighting sent the kiddos screaming in terror. We all evacuated to our cars and sat while the rain battered the car. Once the storm seemed to let up we checked the damage, our tent was sitting in about 1 inch of water. The girls and I carefully waded through the mud and water to the tent. We had just gotten comfortable when we herd a loud thud and yelling. Apparently, a tree fell on the corner of a tent next to ours. I called my girlfriend on the verge of tears, she informed me that another strong band of storms was coming through soon. So, we all decided to cut our losses and get the heck out of there.

Tent sitting in 1 inch of rain, lightning 60 feet away, mud caked in between my toes...never feeling guilty about not "trying" camping...priceless!.

High ho it's off to camping we go

2009-10-02T14:38:00.000-07:00

Rain, rain coming this way
70% chance the weathermen say

While you are warm, dry, and cozy in your bed,
I will be cursing and wishing my husband dead.

We are heading out tomorrow morning in the RAIN. I have tried to convince Jeff to go without me and just to take Ella. No luck so far. So much for my virginal camping trip being blissfully fun. If he were smart he would let me stay home, and go next time when there is not a chance of torrential rain and lightning. Really, he is trying to sell me on this "fun" why not wait until conditions are a bit more...dry??? I hate being wet, wet socks, mud, whiny kiddos stuck in a tent. F U N ????

Nibble Nibble like a ...

2009-10-01T10:31:00.000-07:00

Chomp, chomp, sniff, sniff...Claire's mommy is in a tiff. Today I was called out of my dance class at the gym because of my sweet little angel, Claire. The child care worker calmly informed me that Claire had bitten another child and drew blood. I felt tears begin to well up in my eyes and she explained that if a child bites they must be immediately removed from the building. My sweet girl a violent criminal, what did I do wrong in my parenting? I went into the child care center and saw her sitting in time out, she looked up at me and flashed her winning smile, "Hi mommy!" I got on her level and attempted not to lose it. I was mortified and so disappointed in my kiddo. I did not raise her to be a menace. I felt horrible for the poor other child that received the wrath of her little teeth. After signing a legal document about the incident, I swiftly escorted my girls out of the building sobbing. Claire went to time out for quite a while and then had to play alone in her room. She is only 2 and a half so I can't keep her in her room all day. This is only the second time she has done this, the other time she bit her older sister AFTER Ella bit her. I read on the web that this is typical behavior for a 2 year old, but it did not make me feel any better. Right now Claire is happily chowing down on her PB&J, while humming twinkle twinkle. What am I doing? I'm feeling guilty about what happened. By now I should come to terms with the fact that motherhood and guilt go hand in hand.

campophobia

2009-09-30T13:17:00.000-07:00

campophobia- the fear of camping. I have been suffering from this since being emotionally scared at girl scout camp in 4th grade. I vaguely remember the flashlight light that fell down the latrine, ticks, dirt, rain. Did I mention the bugs? I know emotionally scared, may be a tad bit too dramatic. But seriously, I am a wimp and I do not camp. I married a man that grew up with two other brothers camping quite often. Early on in our marriage Jeff realized much to his chagrin, that my idea of camping is leaving the balcony door open all night at the Westin in Puerta Vallarta. Pathetic, I know... This weekend we are going with a few other families CAMPING. All of our friends have been warned this this is my virginal camping trip. I am nervous about the whole thing. I have told my husband that all of the preparations are up to him. I think his secret plan is to liquor me up so that I forget about my fears. All I can say is alcohol means more bathroom trips and who knows what is lurking in a camp ground potty. I know the girls and my husband will have a blast. Deep breath...bring it on! I have emphatically stated that if I hate it I will not go again. I am all about daddy daughter camping trips. They camp, I stay home lounging around in my jammies,read a few books, drink a few glasses of wine and potty in my sparkling clean, bug free potty.

Vomit, Poop, Gas Oh My

2009-09-30T13:04:00.000-07:00

We have returned from a wonderful, although far from perfect trip to the beach. A few days before the trip Claire started this whole vomit in her bed around 2:00 am. We gave her a little empty plastic wipe box that she carried around with her. Claire would look up at you bat her long lashes and say in a sad little voice, "this is my vomit box". Each night, I would find vomit in her box, I started thinking that perhaps she was doing this on purpose to get attention (I read it on WebMD). Was I creating a bulimic? The day before our beach vacation I took her into the doctor. The doctor was appalled by my questioning whether Claire was doing this on purpose. I protested that I had read about children doing this on the web. He rolled his eyes and sighed. Did I feel like mother of the year or what at that point...not so much. He suggested that I give her Maalox at night. On to our beach vacation... poor little Claire had vomiting and diarrhea that reared its ugly head at 2:00 in the morning each night that we were there. All I can say is thank God there was a washer and dryer in the condo. I should have packed the vomit box. Other than loads of laundry and Clorox wipes, we had a great time!

Spin Doctor

2009-09-16T16:37:00.000-07:00

I have a feeling Ella just may have a career in politics. She isn't gregarious or outgoing, but she sure can put a spin on any situation. The other day the girls and I went again to Wal-mart, this time I will admit that I bribed them with McDonald's. After a pleasantly uneventful shopping trip, we sat down to eat. Ella looked over and noticed a young man with a very interesting hairdo. Being the observant child that she is, she felt it necessary to announce to the restaurant that the man had very crazy hair. "Look Mommy, look at him with the crazy hair." I gave her the evil eye and whispered that a comment like that could hurt his feelings. So, in a much louder voice Ella proclaims, "That man has crazy, beautiful hair. Did you hear that Mommy crazy BEAUTIFUL hair." The man looked over at us and smiled. "See that I made him happy, crazy is beautiful Mommy." Love that girl!

On a side note,, if you are looking for a laugh check out:
www.peopleofwalmart.com

Gag me with a spoon

2009-09-12T19:18:00.001-07:00

Grody to the max it is back! The acid washed jeans of my youth are back in, ankel zipper and all. The pair pictured are for sale for a mere 280.00. If I had only saved my vintage jeans to sell on ebay I would be rich. Word to your mother! .
I am so going to pinch roll my jeans tomorrow!

Potty Talk

2009-09-10T19:26:00.000-07:00

I must admit I am having difficulty blogging lately. I loath the computer, I think this is all due to the fact that I now have another part-time/part-time job as a ghost writer. Mysterious isn't it? The crappy thing is now my computer is a necessary tool for my job and no longer my escape from reality. I won't lie, I have been occasionally checking out the trashy gossip sites just to see Jon "Gross"elin and yell at his douche bag picture. Anyway a little update:
Claire is now officially potty trained, she has mastered the poop in the potty bit. She has also discovered a new manipulation tool. If she is doing something that she doesn't like her new phrase is, "I have to go poop, my poop is coming out now!" She yells this at restaurants if she is done with her food, and doesn't want to sit and wait while we finish. She yells this if it is not her turn to ride on the back of the shopping cart in Walmart. The other day she yelled that eloquent phrase in the quiet library. Talk about the stink eye, The guy in the back corner surfing porn even looked up and gave me a dirty look. I get the cry wolf thing, but I don't want to take any chances. If you have ever attempted to clean poop out of panties, you would know what I mean.

While we are on the subject of poop, I am finally getting my IBS looked at. I have a few unpleasant tests that I scheduled a few days before our trip to the beach. I plan to look good in my swimsuit darn it. The colonoscopy prep is a bitch, but it is a great way to purge a few pounds just by literally sitting on your ass. This brings me back to a question, whatever happened to the cushioned toilet seats from the 80's. Remember those? My parents had one, it let out a whooshing sound whenever you sat on it. Your butt cheeks would sweat and stick to the seat if you sat too long. I couldn't find one online like I had as a kid, but I did find this gem (see picture). According to the site, "The Rivers Edge Products Deer Round Toilet Seat adds an element of surprise to any bathroom." Yes, you too could get the thrill of a life time for just 64.95!

Walmart and motherhood

2009-08-27T17:58:00.000-07:00

The other day I had a low parenting moment. I happen to believe that on most days I am a really good mommy. On some days however; I sob at night thinking about my day. A week ago I had one of those days. I should have known it was going to be a bad day, when the girls had a melt down going in to the gym, and then again when I picked them up. I should not have pushed it, but I had errands to run. Super Walmart was front and center on my list. As a parent you know that Nordstrom's is not the place for two little ones on the verge of melt downs, but Walmart... now, Walmart you have a little leeway. I know it is bad to judge, but I have seen some pretty piss poor parenting at the Walmart, where shoes after 5:00 are optional. There always seems to be announcement about a lost child. I figured that we would be in and out and a little "drama" would not be the end of the world. It was close to the end of the world. Claire hurtled herself out of the shopping cart and took off. I had to run after her and scoop up her skinny little 25 pound rear. I gently thrust-ed her into the cart seat and buckled her in. Ella was being great and then out of the blue she decided to throw a fit about the kind of fruit snacks I was planning on buying. What the heck? I walked down the aisle to grab something else and saw her launch about 10 boxes of her favorite snack into the card. Claire is just cracking up. Son of a &*($@!! I got on her level and attempted to talk to her about it...who am I kidding, I probably yelled just a bit. At that moment, little Miss Houdini managed to escape. The shopping trip ended with both kids sitting in time out facing the depends boxes. It was the least populated aisle. So yes, I am a WALMART SHOPPER!!

I could've been a contender. I could've been somebody

2009-08-27T17:43:00.000-07:00

"I could've been a contender. I could've been somebody, instead of a bum, which is what I am." I am being inducted into society for key woman educators in October. The other day I attended a introduction meeting. I knew that this was quite an honor and I went into the meeting pulsating with self esteem only to be shot down, my confidence withering as it went splat on the concrete floor. There is noting quite like introducing your self after five amazingly impressive women with PHd's and honors up the wazoo. My turn...."I am taking a break to stay at home with my kiddos, but I am very passionate about education." My honors and glory are years old, I am not use to feeling like I am at the bottom on the barrel. I cried on the way home and then my hubby made me a great drink. Love my hubby always knows what to do!!

Hootchie Mama

2009-08-18T19:48:00.000-07:00

Who wears short shorts...mommy wears short shorts. I met a friend for a play date today and I was appalled by the length of my shorts. Perhaps I have become Elasti- girl and my legs have gotten longer?? I purchased them at Old Navy this spring and I swear I don't recall them being this short. Daisy Dukes are not attractive on a 34 year old mommy, esp. a mommy that has been meaning to buy a new razor. So my dear friend, I sincerely apologize for exposing you and your children to my pasty white, unshaven legs.

Wits end

2009-08-17T14:41:00.000-07:00

My IBS has "reared" its ugly head again, this time it invited Mr. Migraine to join the party. Yeah! There is nothing like teaching a bunch of four olds and having to rush out to the bathroom. One of my students enthusiastically questioned me about my wiping ability and the professed the benefits of a good moist wipe. Potty talk is always a favorite topic amongst the preschool set.

I have spent the last several hours rushing to the bathroom and staring at a computer screen looking for a place to stay at the beach at the end of September. When advertising a beach condo or house, the main picture should NOT be a photo of a nautical shower curtain. I don't care how jaunty the curtain is... you are not winning me over.

I am watching the clock dreading the 5:00 hour, time for Ella's swim class. That child has the uncanny ability to formulate a fairly impressive list of excuses from a scratch on her leg which causes unexplained immobility, to the fact that her hair hurts so she can't possibly swim.

Sweet Punishment

2009-08-11T18:34:00.000-07:00

Our local gym is giving away free copies of a Harlequin romance novel in the locker room. After I changed the girls out of their swim suits, Ella ran over to the books and grabbed one. She can't read yet so I thought...what is the harm?? This romance paperback novel features a swarthy man, dripping with passion and a "do me" expression on the cover is now Ella's new favorite thing. She wants to take the darn thing everywhere. There is nothing like walking into Nordstrom's with your 3 year old clinging to soft porn. She is looking for letters, commenting on the page numbers and making up her own stories which have nothing to do with the hunk on the front cover. In the car today, she was "reading" a part of the book where bunnies and butterflies were playing a game in the garden. Little did she know, that the passage that she may have been reading was describing a far different game. Perhaps hide the sausage?

Priceless Picking

2009-08-07T21:24:00.000-07:00

Flower-girl dress 65.00
Wide width shoes 45.00
Fluffy socks 5.00

Blackmail photo....Priceless

Super Why meets Donkey

2009-08-06T19:22:00.000-07:00

I have always considered myself an intelligent person. I am college educated and have a passion for learning new things. Yes, I guess that I would describe myself as a pretty smart cookie. That was until my three and a half year old daughter discovered the word..."WHY??". The questions started off fairly easy, but now not so much. I am feeling a little dumber every day. I do thank Google for helping me answer the never ending questions. Today's random question, "Do birds toot?".

Wax on Wax off

2009-08-05T12:14:00.000-07:00

I do know better, I really do, but I couldn't pass up the 8 dollar eyebrow wax. There is a little shop two doors down from my job that I have been meaning to try. In the past I have spend the big bucks at the gym's spa. 20.00 brow wax with the brow guru. For 20.00 I get a perfect brow, no break outs, soothing music and a short face massage. For 8.00, I got the following:
1. Go to the empty room at the back of the store which smelled like a bad perm. Wait for 5 minutes.
2. Sit through a lecture informing me that I should in fact...Wax my arms, wax my forehead, and my lip. What the heck...I am not a chea pet!
3. After politely refusing excess hair removal, my brow and FOREHEAD is aggressively waxed.
4. Wiping tears from my eyes, I am asked if I would like to bleach my skin to look less "spotty". They are called freckles, I kindly informed the woman and I rather like them. "Oh...but they are so dark" she responds. "lighter would look so much more beautiful."

So for 8.00 I have a hairless forehead, irritated skin,and a SPOT complex.

Learning to fly

2009-08-02T08:20:00.000-07:00

We have been hanging out at the pool since it is been so darn hot. I love watching my girls play with their daddy. I remember when my dad use to toss me up in the air. Does anyone remember doing the Nestea Plunge?? Ahhh.. memories!

Zip it .com

2009-07-30T12:25:00.000-07:00

One of the wonderful things about pre-schoolers, is that they tell it like it is. One of the worst thing about pre-schoolers, is that they tell it at the top of their lungs at the most inopportune moments. The girls and I were in the gym locker room. I was gathering up our bags, when I notice Ella staring a a lady changing her clothes. I asked Ella to come close to me and help me, so she would stop staring. She enthusiastically yelled, "OK Mommy!! That lady looks like Strega Nona, she has an angry face." I was mortified, I turned to apologize to the woman and low and behold it really was a spiting image of the book character Strega Nona. I murmured an apology and yanked the girls out of the room. Ella kept insisting in a spectacularly loud voice, "She is Strega Nona Mommy, she has lots of wrinkles too!" I whisked her over to a corner and told her that it is not nice to talk about people. She looked at me, wrinkling her little forehead and said, "I was OBSERVING Mommy, just like Sid the science kid." What the heck am I suppose to say to that? So I just told her it is fine to observe but next time whisper her observations into my ear, like a secret. I was feeling pretty good about my parenting skills, when not a minute later Claire my two year old, yells "That man is picking his nose, that is nasty and dirty!" Really??? I then attempt to march the kiddos to the car as fast as I can, but every few steps Ella says, "I need to whisper to you". I bend down and she says, "The grass is green. There is a brown ant on the ground." Two more steps..."Stop Mommy I have a secret....the wind is blowing my hair." So much for my "brilliant" parenting skills.

wedgie and you know it clap your hands

2009-07-28T16:48:00.000-07:00

Today I was admiring my kiddos tushies at the pool. Their little swim suits had crept into their cracks. They could care less, they were waving their cracks in the air like they just don't care! I splashed over to attempt to extract the material from Ella's crack when I had to stop myself. She has her entire life to be concerned about wedgies, why make her self conscious about it now. I was temped to let my suit creep where the sun don't shine, to feel free like my girls. Yeah...I couldn't do it. I have some sort of warning system that goes off if material even shifts near the vicinity of the crack. I also quite often suffer from the phantom wedgie curse. If I am in my swim suit I am constantly checking to a make sure that everything is in place. If you have a wedgie and you know it clap you hands.

Poop a saurus

2009-07-26T11:40:00.000-07:00

You gotta love kiddos. They tell it like it is, no holds bar. The other day I was taking Ella to dance class when my IBS " reared" it's ugly head. Those of you that know me well, know that I have been battling IBS for years, and I always seem to have an attack in the most inopportune moments. Back to the story... I am cursing under my breath, moaning, whining, yelling at the cars ahead of me to hurry up. We pull up to the dance studio and I tell Ella that I am going to the potty and she needs to sit on the bench and put on her dance shoes. I fling open the studio door and Ella announces to everyone there, "My mommy needs to go poop RIGHT NOW!" I feel my face burn with embarrassment. I rush to the bathroom just in time to see a little five year old girl shut the door. Really? I attempt to hide behind the lost and found box. I have broken out in a cold sweat, my legs are shaking. I hear the little girl turning on and off water, giggling. Here I am in agony and this little girl is playing in the darn water. Ella can see that I am in pain, so she yells at the door, "My Mommy needs to go poop, she might poop in her pants!" I could feel the eyes in the room turn their attention to my sweaty, red face. Finally, the little girl skips out of the bathroom, I race in. I made it, barely. After I left the restroom Ella asks in her little high pitched voice," Are your panties clean, or do you have to change?" Nice!

Facebook Freaks

2009-07-21T17:43:00.000-07:00

I have been suffering from a bout of insomnia for the past several weeks. I fall asleep fast and then wake up at 3:00 am like clockwork. I lay in bed thinking of all of the things that I need to get done. Last night when I woke up, I was determined to do something productive with my insomnia. I decided that I would clean the kitchen. I trudged down the stairs, tripped over a renegade Cinderella doll, and spewed out a few curse words. Somehow between the bed and the stairs I lost my motivation to do anything. So what did I do??? Facebook of course. Try this next time you can't sleep. ..plug in your last name and see who else out there has the same one as you. Talk about scary! I entered in my maiden name and discovered that the gene pool associate with my last name is pretty shallow. Ok, so there were 330 people with the same last name and I know that I am related to 10 of them. Who knew that a rebel flag flanked by a mullet would be strutting around out there with my last name! The worst profile picture was that of an obese man attempting to lick his own nipple. Tonight I think I will try my married name.

Not your average TOOL

2009-07-17T21:10:00.000-07:00

The other night I finally became interesting. Jeff and I dropped the kiddos off at my parents and headed out to the Most Interesting Academy (http://dosequis.com/academy) hosted by dos equis. OK, I have no luck with winning contests, the lottery, or any sport but for some reason luck is always on my side when it comes to getting into parties. In Vegas, we got on two VIP lists to the top clubs, perhaps they see me and think that poor homely mom needs a night out. Anyway, apparently there were over 9,000 RSVP's for this event and only 800 got in and we were one of the 800, dumb luck. Our plan was to catch the shuttle bus and be whisked away 55 miles to a castle out in BFE for the party of the century...all for free. As you know, if I see the word free I am all over it. We parked the car and headed over to the pick up point and saw the line. Hundreds of people waiting for free beer, a castle, and Bear Grylls who was suppose to be skydiving into the party. We waited for an hour in the 105 degree heat and thought...let's just drive. So we drove the hour and 15 minutes to the castle found parking on the side of the road and just walked into the party. According to our local newspaper, several hundred others were stranded in a cow pasture waiting for a parking shuttle that never came. We on the other hand, were having a blast. There were water slides, free beer booths, amazing food, and the opportunity to become interesting. I ate a few chef prepared bugs, seriously if seasoned just right you can get over the crunch. I danced, I peed in the woods, and I am embarrassed to admit rode the water slide after peeing. Ladies, you know what I am talking about when I mention the splash factor. For some reason, it never dawned on me that others were doing the same thing. There were a few guys that chose to forgo a bathing suit and slide down nude. No one really wants to see that...the water was a bit cold if you catch my drift. So, for a moment I felt cool and interesting. Now I am back to being a mom and a wife. Laundry, dishes, potty training, and poop. Yeah!

Spin this!

2009-07-13T12:12:00.000-07:00

Due in part to my daughter's comments on my gut and my burning desire to feel cool I attempted a spin class. I was apparently not firing on all cylinders when I decided to attend. I bruised or broke my tail bone a few years back. Thanks to my brother's burning desire to throw me from a wave runner, I occasionally have difficulty sitting for long periods of time. So why I thought that a spin class would be fun, I do not know. I strode into the class a bit early. I was sporting my only matching Adidas workout shorts and top. (thanks Ross Dress for Less) My hair was in a messy pony tail, ready to bike my butt and gut away. The room had two giant screens projecting scenes from the tour de France. I suppose this was to make the participants feel like we were really biking, not just going nowhere. The instructor was an adorable perky gal with an amazing bod. I glanced around the room looking for a bike near the back. Score...back right corner! I must have looked like a complete moron attempting to adjust the bike, because the instructor came bouncing over and suggested that she take over. I need to mention that the bike seat was about four sizes too small in my opinion. Where was the beginner banana seat with a back rest?? I hoisted myself onto the minuscule seat and began a workout from hell. My legs ached, my arms were weary, but my rear end was screaming in agony. My hemorrhoids that have been in "remission" flared, my rear bruising with every complete rotation of the peddles. I cursed myself for not wearing an overnight maxi pad or better yet the giant pads that I was given after giving birth to my children. Never again will I spin. So if you see me this week, I'm not walking funny because I had a good time last night!

Really

2009-07-08T20:41:00.000-07:00

After two weeks of "vacation", followed by a week of wedding events I gained several pounds. Sadly it was not due to the food I ate, but more likely due to the beverages that I willfully consumed. My sweet little Ella stated today after pulling up my shirt and patting my tummy, "I sure hope you don't have a baby in your tummy because that is not a good idea".

Butt sweat

2009-07-06T14:31:00.000-07:00

Sorry I have been off line for a while. The past week has been crazy and my laptop bit the dust. My little brother got married on Friday and we were all in the wedding. It was a fantastic affair. Ella and Claire were flower girls. An hour before the wedding, both girls were whining, their faces streaked with tears and their noses bursting with snot bubbles. Ella had diarrhea and Claire kept pulling out her hair accessories. They refused to pose for any pictures. I think one of the only ones with Ella in it has her picking her nose. So much for my dreams of my two little cherubs posing in their beautiful white dresses. I was terrified of what they would do when they walked down the aisle. I was a brides maid so I walked down the aisle first followed by two other gals. My girls were on their own to perform. Tears of relief ran down my cheeks as I watched as they dutifully walked slowly down the aisle dropping the flower petals. The reception was fab, both girls danced and had a ball. My girlfriend picked them up and took them home just when they were starting to lose it. I owned the dance floor at the reception. I don't think that I sat down once. I downloaded my pictures the following day and discovered that I had a giant stain on my dress. The stain is perfectly situated on my rear end. I had been wiggling it, shaking it and twirling it all around the dance floor. Every picture seems to have my dancing stained rear in it. Jeff thought at first it was butt sweat, but I was wearing cotton panties AND spanx! I checked my dress, sure enough there is a giant stain of what appears to be BBQ sauce and grease. Either I was sabbatoged or I sat in something like an entire plate of BBQ??? Check out the picture...it is NOT BUTT SWEAT!!!

Wasted on Youth

2009-06-29T19:41:00.000-07:00

So today I asked my oldest, Ella what she liked most about our vacation. She said that she liked it when we went to the zoo and it was pouring down rain and she had to tinkle in Claire's diaper. (We were stuck during a down pour hiding out under the lion shelter when Ella had to go, no potty insight) I can't tell you how thrilled I am that after two weeks of "fun" this is all that she remembered the most. Darn! I foolishly asked my two year old that replied, "The train scared me." I repeated the question, and got another shrill little shriek and a dramatic sob about the scary train. Really??? The credit card bills will come in in a few weeks, I gained 5 pounds, I packed, I planned, and these are their sweet little memories???

MJ lover all the way

2009-06-26T19:34:00.000-07:00

I wanted to marry him when I was in third grade. I love him and yes, I did cry when I heard on the train that he had died. I had a couple of drinks tonight to numb my pain. I want to send a shout out to my bro for planning to include thriller in his wedding. I was the president of my neighborhood fan club in St. Louis. What a tragedy. Sorry from my ramble but he was the king of pop and a love of my pre teen life. This was my theme song in JR high!

survivor

2009-06-26T12:31:00.000-07:00

We are back. Two weeks living out of suit cases, 2000 miles in the car, water parks, a train trip and tantrums galore. The family trip is over and done. I can now look back on it and smile. On the whole, it was really good, but as with any vacation nothing is perfect. I must give kudos to myself, I did a wonderful job of packing and managed to not forget anything. We also didn't lose anything major...there were a few moments that I was worried about my sanity, but that passed. The next few days I will chronicle a few of the amusing situations that occurred.

Single ladies, potty breaks, mullets oh my!

2009-06-17T11:23:00.000-07:00

We have made it to Louisville KY. I have finally procured a laptop to fill everyone in on our trip. I want to stress the way to survive a family vacation is to keep your expectations very low, that way you will only be pleasantly surprised. Due to the fact that my time on the computer is short, here are a few of my latest observations:
* Driving 12 hours with a 2 and 3 year old is only made bearable by a portable DVD player and potty breaks. Benadryl does nothing for a 2 year old determined not to sleep. In fact, it just makes her higher than a kite. After refusing to nap, we pulled into the hotel @ 10:30. Claire stayed up talking, and singing in her crib until 12:00. Jeff and I attempted to be stern with her about being quiet, but when she busted out in her shrill little voice, "All the single ladies, calling all the single ladies!" we had to crack up.
* Waffle House is the best place ever to eat with kiddos. Seriously, your parenting skills and lack of personal hygiene after spending hours in a car will go completely unnoticed!
* Too much McDonald's causes excessive gas, screw the fact that they have a germ infested playground. I don't care how much your kiddos want to play, if it is raining out and you cannot open the windows to breath in a little fresh air... skip it!
* Kentucky is the land of the mullets and a few do in fact wear hammer pants. I saw a beautiful black suede pair, in the 85 degree heat.
* There is actually a company called 1-800-got-junk. If a family member says they work there it is NOT a JOKE. Do not laugh. Yep, I totally made a donkey out of myself with that one.

Tomorrow we head to Chicago, a six hour drive. Funny how six hours seems like nothing after 12. may the force be with us.

Highway to Hell

2009-06-12T14:24:00.000-07:00

In a little more than 28 hours we are getting in the car for a two week road trip. I spent weeks packing and planning, my husband is planning to pack his stuff tonight. He figures that will take him about 5 minutes. Yeah for him. Our house sitter will arrive tomorrow, so I have to clean the house. I have nothing nice to say at the moment so I will leave you with a few quotes.

“A vacation frequently means that the family goes away for a rest, accompanied by a mother who sees that the others get it.”

“A vacation is like love - anticipated with pleasure, experienced with discomfort and remembered with nostalgia”

“No man needs a vacation so much as the man who has just had one”

Insane in the Rogaine

2009-06-09T20:33:00.000-07:00

I won a free facial from a "medical spa". They were at our gym advertising botox and laser hair removal. I can't pass up a chance to win something, so I dropped my name in the box to win free services. I won a facial. Whoo Hoo. Why I chose four days from our trip when I have so much to do...insanity I suppose. I looked up the company and all I could find was hair implants, apparently the company specializes in plugs but is attempting to branch out. I walked into the testosterone filled waiting room. There were four different men all in various stages of "plugs". I really tried not to stare, but it fascinated me. I just couldn't look away. I tried to busy myself looking at the menu of various treatments, but my eyes just kept being drawn to some poor mans head. I just hope that the plugs are a process, because if I were to describe his hairline, the word "natural" would not be in my description. I was finally called back into the room. The woman asked if I would rather have a relaxing hour long facial or microderm abrasion. My mind flashed back to the menu of services...the facial was 100.00, the microderm abrasion was 147.00. I am all about the deal, screw the relaxation I want the most expensive "free" thing I can get. I am thinking this may have been a mistake. Half way into the procedure the woman mentioned, I may have a breakout out in about four days. Great... just in time for my vacation. Just in time to see people I have not seen in years and I will look like a darn pizza face. Basically, this wasn't a free facial because afterwords I ran to Ulta and blew some money on acne concealer just in case.

Cornhole

2009-06-08T18:43:00.000-07:00

What is it with corn? My girls love corn on the cob esp. Claire. She can wolf down a cob in no time flat. Unfortunately, her digestive system is not quite as efficient. I changed her diaper yesterday after her nap. I really think that she doesn't chew. On another note... Four days and counting until our road trip or as I call it Highway to Hell tour 2009. Yes, hours of "good times" in a rental car with a potty training two and three year old. Bliss. Anyone know where I can purchase a ankle flask?

Painting Nudes

2009-06-06T07:14:00.000-07:00

I am sitting outside while the girls are painting. They are both in their panties. Claire has decided to forgo the paper and paint her body. Good times...that was until she took off her panties and began painting her crotch region to "look like mommy". Not sure why she chose purple...

Too Legit to Quit?

2009-06-04T12:11:00.000-07:00

"Are you Too Legit to Quit? Do you think Anything Goes on the Dance Floor? If so, then you should Pray that you're Big Man enough to kick it old skool with some Hammer Pants -- because baby, they're back." Yes, ladies that is in fact a quote from an article in stylelist. So, it is time to let your crotch hang low and let it wobble to and fro. Gone is the fear of panty lines or the outline of a super maxi overnight pad. If they didn't look like my daughters soaked diaper after playing in the sprinkler for hours, I may be inclined to purchase them. Who knew the crotch dump pants would come back!!! Yes, and they are making a come back. Women are in fact wearing the hammer pants which are now know as "harem pants". I found a pair of silk Harem pants for a bargain price of...wait for it...198.00! "These pants look surprisingly sophisticated and sexy, especially in black." Really? When I see a droopy crotch, the word sexy doesn't come to mind. The first one of my friends that purchases a pair and wears them out to a club, I will buy a drink. Any takers??

Rain???

2009-06-02T20:13:00.001-07:00

I just logged on to our local news to check the weather for tomorrow. It read "Cloudy with a 30% chance of rain?" That's right there was actually a question mark in the forecast. Really? I could forecast a question mark! Thanks News 8, I do appreciate your honesty.

Supermarket loathing

2009-06-01T18:43:00.000-07:00

Down the road, about 5 miles away there is a wonderful swank grocery store that offers at least 4 free wine samples, fresh cheese samples, balloons and stickers for the kiddos, and sparkling clean shopping carts. One can stroll about listening to Sarah Mclaughlin being pumped through the bose speakers. The store closest to me, the same chain mind you, is what we affectionately call the ghetto store. I kid you not, today the tune crackling through the speakers was Sir Mix-a-lot's, "Baby Got Back". Don't get me wrong, I am actually a Sir Mix-a-lot fan, but the disparity is blatant. So are the prices, so I stick to the ghetto. Today I saw two children tethered to a shopping cart, they were tandem mind you. Who knew there was a tandem leash?? Not that the tethering did much good the poor woman appeared to be chasing after her cart. After fighting the crowds, I finally get up to the conveyor belt. I am anal about unloading my items. I like to categorize them, veggies go first, then fruits, frozen items...you get it. I grew up going to the commissary and that is what my mother always did to help the baggers out. I do it just because I am that anal. Usually, I figure out that I have grabbed an item that I don't need. Then I am faced with the dilemma, do I nonchalantly stick on the candy rack, or do I give it to the cashier and apologize profusely while getting the stink eye. Today I did well, no extra items, but I did God forbid have coupons. The cashier sighed, rolled his eyes and aggressively began scanning them. Really? Why is it such trouble to DO YOUR JOB? After I paid, I noticed all of my wonderful categorizing had been for naught, there was no bagger and the items were heaped together at the end of the "runway". The cashier made no move to start bagging. I felt like we were in a stale mate, should I be a douche bag and wait for him to bag, or should I just do it the right way. I folded. The tool just stood there and watched me. I was really wishing that Pink's "So What" song was playing through the cheap JVC speakers...Na na na na na I wanna start a fight!

Wrinkle me this

2009-05-31T18:50:00.000-07:00

For the longest time I was so self conscious of my smaller than average chest. I avoided strapless dresses, invested in padded bras and fretted over bathing suit tops. I have a new obsession, I need something for my face. I know that there are a few more lines on my face, but I have never been too worried about them. Up until now... My wonderful mother, in the past several months has pointed out that I need to stop worrying because I am getting frown lines. Yesterday once again she ran her palm over my forehead and told be to stop worrying, stating that she didn't want me to look like her. Now I have a serious complex. My life was hard enough sucking in my tummy, adjusting the occasional creeping wedgie, and now I have to force myself to stop furrowing my brow??? She recommended a product called frownies. I had to check this out. "Facial pads like Frownies work mechanically by stretching out wrinkles and “unwrinkling” them as you sleep." While they do work according to Oprah, I need to keep the following points in mind:
* You will look stupid in bed with them. Apparently random stickers on the face is not very sexy.
* They won’t work if you’re a quitter. You need to follow the instructions and it takes a few weeks for them to take their full effect. I am in fact a quitter, this will be hard.

I am going to head to Steinmart tomorrow to pick a box up. My husband will be thrilled with the new sticker face. Ohhh...that is my new theme song instead of "Poker Face", I am "sticker face". I really need to lay off the wine.

Potty train

2009-05-30T19:08:00.000-07:00

The movie UP was fantastic. We sat through the first showing, the place was semi empty. I loaded my giant man purse with small bags of popcorn, juice boxes, fruit snacks and lollipops. I am cheap when it comes to the movies, and I wanted to make sure that the girls were occupied. If they are eating they are happy. Claire was perfect, she actually sat and watched the movie! There was very little drama to report. Three trips to the potty during the film. The movie theater is evil when it comes to potty training. The automatic flush is just terrifying to Ella, and fascinating to Claire. I had to bribe Ella to sit and potty, but I had to bribe Claire to stop waving her hand in front of the sensor. The funny thing about watching a movie with a bunch of other little kiddos is the constant potty train, at any given moment you can faintly hear a "Mommy I have to go potty." " Are you sure sweetie?" "yes!" "You just went 15 minutes ago." "But I have to go now!"

What UP?

2009-05-28T13:53:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow I have decided that I will take the girls to see Pixar's new film, UP. I am a little nervous, Ella has been to two other movies in the past and did great. This will be Claire's first movie. It could be pure hell depending on her mood. Tomorrow is opening day and I wanted to get the early bird special, so originally I attempted to order the tickets online. I discovered there was a 1.35 courtesy charge PER TICKET!!! You can shove your courtesy charge where the sun don't shine. I drove over to the theater and purchased the tickets. Traffic was backed up due to not one, but two accidents. My quick trip to save some money cost me over an hour in the car on a 95 degree day. I purchased tickets for the early bird showing @ 10:30. I was informed that this showing would not be 3-D. Thank Goodness! I can't imagine the drama associated with keeping glasses on a two and a three year old. I was so excited to come home with the tickets. I just read a review and it was glowing with praise. The last few lines threw me..."this is one of the first PG movies that Pixar has released". Really?? Are my girls going to have a fear of balloons now? On the other hand it may make a trip to the grocery store easier when the cashier says they have run out of free balloons!

7 year itch

2009-05-27T18:40:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we celebrated our 7th anniversary. I have heard several people mention the 7 year itch, I prefer lucky number 7. I scoured the internet for the traditional 7 year anniversary present. Wool...yes the traditional present is wool. I really think that is where the whole darn seven year itch issue comes from. The modern present is copper, a little better but come on. Jeff and I had decided to forgo presents this year and go on a long date instead. Well, with wool as a present I felt that I wasn't missing anything. I did get Jeff a bottle of "Coppertone" and made him a card that I glued dated pennies on to it. 2002-2009. I was pretty proud of my creativity. We went to two different wineries and had dinner at the last one. We had an awesome time. We strolled through the vineyards and talked about the past seven years, the ups and the downs. I noticed a young lady picnicking with her lover. She sat up casually exposing a perky breast. I of course pointed it out to Jeff, didn't want him to miss out on the show. That is true love I tell you!

Stage Mother ...Oh Brother!

2009-05-24T20:49:00.000-07:00

I fear I may have mentally become one of the dreaded stage mothers. I did not act on any of my thoughts or desires, thank goodness. The other day Ella had her first dance recital. I scoped out the front row of seats early so I would be able to see Ella up close. The auditorium was filling up. My sweet little Ella was in the hall with her teacher and fellow classmates practicing. After watching three other routines, I was ready to see my star! Remember, this was a recital for the 2 and 3 year old classes. My definition of "star" was a child that did not pick her nose, grab her crotch, suck her thumb, or cry during the short three minutes on stage. Out stomped her little gaggle of hot pink tutu clad ballerinas. My little star was in the back, I couldn't see a darn thing, my husband threw himself on the floor in order to attempt to get her on video. Ella must have thought that she was in a line because she stayed directly behind the little girl in front. I couldn't help but think if I could only slide the little girl two inches to the right. Perhaps next year I need to slip the instructor a 20 to have my girl in the front row. See what I mean, and we only have another 13 years of recitals!

Dance Fever

2009-05-22T07:55:00.001-07:00

Why Not

2009-05-19T20:21:00.000-07:00

There is nothing like coming home from a day long bachlorette party at 1:30 am thrilled that you didn't spend much money and discovering a 250.00 new toy in the garage. We are the proud new owners of a pink, two seater, working radio, Barbie Jeep. I am attempting to muster a tad bit of enthusiasm here. Poor Santa is screwed now, how will he ever top that? The girls however, are thrilled...with the box. I am almost to the point that I am over the fact that this was not in the plan, it was not discussed, we don't have 250 dollars just hanging around. Thank goodness for wine and a lot of it.
Anyway, I survived the 20 something bachlorette party and think that I just may have been cool. I will emphasize the fact that I may have though that I was cool. I wore a little mini jean skirt from Old Navy. It was a bit hoochie mama, but the gentlemen that we met at the restaurant didn't mind. I was showered with more compliments than I can count. They couldn't believe that I had two kiddos. They were in their late 30's and so nice... granted they all admitted they were on their third wife. My soon to be sister in law worked it and got them to pay us 40 dollars each for a knee lick. Hold it... it was innocent I thrust my leg out and the married guy gave a quick lick to the back of the knee. He was certain that I would swoon over it. My dog Sadie could do a better job.

Beautiful Nail

2009-05-17T21:01:00.000-07:00

Basically...I got home at 2:00 am this morning from a Bachlorette party, a few hours later watched the girls sing at church, and then a few hours later went and saw Rent. I am TIRED! I will leave you with this you tube video that a friend posted on my Facebook after reading my post on the nail salon. Tomorrows topic...Bachelorette party and back of the knee licking.

Back in the day...

2009-05-15T19:17:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow I am attending my soon to be sister in laws bachlorette party. I am a bit nervous, I will be the oldest by a little less than a decade. I hope I don't make an idiot out of myself. I have a tendency to become a little too verbose when I have a drink or two. I have to remember not to say, "back in my day...". I will not make reference to the early 80's. I'm sure my Max Headroom joke would fall flat. I have to remember not to point out my stretchmarks, varicose veins, or c-section scar. Give me strength not to talk about my kids, my husband, or cleaning the house. I have to embrace my inner 25 year old.

Free to be you and me

2009-05-14T12:17:00.000-07:00

Those of you that grew up in the late 70's may remember the "long playing record" Free to Be You and Me. It provided a positive musical message regarding equality and self esteem. I was listening to it the other day and wondering, what age is it that you become self conscious? Yesterday, we took our girls to the neighborhood pool. Poor Ella's swim suit was having a terrible time covering her fanny. I looked over and she had a full on wedgie, I am talking about all of the material had migrated to her crack. She could care less, she was bending over, skipping, splashing without a care in the world. I felt compelled to arrange her suit several times. Why? She was content, didn't care, and she has a pretty cute bum. I only wish that I could be as care free as she is. Instead, here I am adjusting, tugging, and feeling for a phantom wedgie while wearing my swim suit. I hope that she never loses that self confidence.

zip it

2009-05-12T21:02:00.001-07:00

The other day, I took my mother in for a mother and daughter pedi. The evening before, I had showered and gotten ready for bed. I had just laid down when, to my horror realized that I had forgotten to shave. I rushed to the side of the tub for a quick shave. The next morning, I realized that I missed a ruler sized strip on my leg and completely neglected my toe hair. It was too late to do something about it, so I just let it go and headed to the salon. Immediately after entering the salon, my mother and I got busy picking out our polish. I am horrid about picking a good shade. I end up with 80's hot pink or stripper red every time. We went about getting settled in our chair and figuring out the massage remote control. I managed to get mine stuck on some "karate chopping" mode and spend the first 5 minutes of relaxing lurching about spasticly in my chair. The pedicurists got to work. This brings me to my pet peeve about pedicures. I know the employees are talking about me. Just because they are speaking in a foreign tongue, pointing out my impressively long toe hair, cackling with the employee on your right, doesn't mean that I don't get it. You are talking about me! The two ladies attending to our feet were having a hay day with our sad, pathetic, rarely pampered feet. One got a little too aggressive with her cuticle tools and drew blood. My mother let out a surprised "ouch". The the women looked at each other and laughed, jabbering back and fourth. Really, I am paying for this? Apparently, a few miles down the road there is a salon that is rumored to have a no talk policy. The employees cannot talk to each other while they are working. I am so going there next time.

Gianalogue

2009-05-11T17:54:00.000-07:00

I don't know if you watched Oprah several weeks ago, the topic was how to talk about sex with your child. It was really eye opening concerning the misinformation flying around out there. I'm not sure why it surprised me, since I too was exposed to a discussion in first grade about a cat having sex. I came home mortified, I was under the impression that there was a serious amount of poop involved in the whole baby making process. My poor mother attempted to skirt around "the talk", that was until I managed to check out a sex book from the public library. Granted the information was in comic book form, but there were still some fairly explicit pictures. The poor librarian who allowed a six year old to check out the book, got quite an ear full from my mom. Anyway...the psychologist on Oprah recommend using the correct words to label private parts. My husband had been calling them "bits" since the girls were small. Girls have "bits" and boys have "bits and pieces". Why I chose this week after the boobies fiasco to introduce a new word is beyond me. I was about to say the word, but just couldn't. I morphed the word into a much cuter, "giana". I told the girls to wash their "gianas". They looked at me, confused. I pointed to their girl part. They happily excepted the new word. Ella has taken it upon herself to now be the boss of the "gianas" in the bath tub. Today she ordered Claire to wash her giana well, or she would get an rash. Claire dutifully followed her sisters orders.

Mouths of Babes

2009-05-10T17:22:00.000-07:00

My hubby came through! Breakfast in bed, a small gift, and brunch with my parents. A fantastic day. Ella sat through church with us for once, she is usually in the nursery. She was fascinated with the pastor,lay minister, and acolytes all dressed in white robes. She looked up at me with her big brown eyes and asked, "Mommy why do those doctors go up to the front and talk to themselves?" After the service, the girls practiced walking down the aisle. In July, they will be flower girls in my brother's wedding. They walked slowly down the aisle and then carefully climbed up the stairs, then turned around and enthusiastically hopped down each stair. Ella of course managed to fall down the last two stairs and ended up wailing. I love my girls, I can't imagine what my life would be like without the 24/7 drama. When I tucked Ella into bed, I told her that since I was a little girl I always wanted to be a mommy. She made me a mommy. Then of course, she asked me how she got out of my stomach. I have an easy explanation since I had a c-section. She wondered if it hurt, I told her that yes, it hurt a little bit but she was worth it. She looked at me suspiciously and said, "Mommy your should have just let me come out of your mouth since throwing up really doesn't hurt." Hmmmm....

You lost them mommy

2009-05-08T11:46:00.001-07:00

Let me preface this by saying that my 2 year old has always been very curious. At a very young age, she was fascinated by nipples. She pronounced them "Nepals". Often times when she was younger she would ask in public places who has "Napals". She would announce who had them, speculate on the size of the "Nepals", and expose her own. I could easily spin the conversation by saying...Nepal is on the other side of the world. Not everyone has been to Nepal or is interested in discussing Nepal. One day her interest waned and I was thrilled. Last week she reconnected with her burning desire to discuss them. Unfortunately my two year old no longer uses such cute phrases as "Nepal". She has embraced the term "boobies". Today we stopped at the grocery store. I was holding her and she reached down my shirt. I was wearing a sports bra since we had just come from the gym. Ladies, as you know the sports bra does nothing to enhance an already pitiful size bra cup. So yes, I suppose I was looking unmmm a little prepubescent. My adorable 2 year old is determined to solve the mystery of the missing boobies. She announces in her tiny shrill voice, "Where did your boobies go mommy?" I gently pulled her hand out of my shirt and told her to not talk about boobies. That was my monumental mistake. Had I just made something up like...Victoria's secret has the day off, or the miracle bra is too tired, she would have probably let it go. Instead she began to literally panic.... "Oh no mommy, your boobies are missing, go find them mommy." There were several chuckles from the customers in line. I was mortified. Claire reached down for another investigative feel. I yanked her hand out of my shirt, no more Mr. Nice guy. She began to howl and scream. The cashier asked if she wanted a "buddy buck" to calm her down. She took a deep breath and took it. "Here mommy, go buy boobies." Nice...

Odd

2009-05-07T19:03:00.000-07:00

I had my 6 month dentist appointment yesterday. I was just there two weeks ago with Ella. Ella has determined that anyone that attempts to put a foreign object in her mouth deserved to be kicked and bit. It was miracle that the poor dentist was able to open up her mouth. I had to pin her down on the chair while she thrashed her legs. I still have a few bruises to prove it. She screamed, she cried, she attempted to bite down on the courageous dentist's hand. After the "cleaning", I was assured that next time it would be better??? So back to my appointment...I have been blessed with great teeth, I have never had a cavity or braces. I really don't mind going to the dentist, sadly I find it relaxing. I did, until I met the dental hygienist with a gift for gab. She talked, and talked, and asked me question after question. Hello, you have your hands in my mouth...do you really expect me to answer. At first, I attempted a few grunts "answering" her questions. After the fifth question, I just tuned her out. She did not take the hint and kept talking. After she was done, she looked me up and down and said,"You have lost so much weight! I really need to try the diet you were telling me about." What? I am the same weight that I was 6 months ago and I know darn well that I didn't tell her a darn thing.

Gay old time

2009-05-05T14:58:00.000-07:00

I must admit that I just may have a new crush. Yes, I know I am married and the guy is so NOT into me, but he is just so damn cute. Ohhhh... and he smells great and gives an amazing scalp massage. My new hairstylist appeared in my dreams last night. He cleared out my circa 2000 wardrobe, hung a few pictures, and gave me tips on make-up application. He accomplished all of this with some fabulously snarky comments. Really...I want him to be my friend. I actually have gotten my hair cut by him twice and am sticking to the every six weeks schedule that only the truly vain can afford. Why am I doing this? Granted the hair cut is great, but he makes me feel like a million bucks. He compliments me and gushes over my sense of style. (little did he know that I changed 3 times just to feel semi "in") The best and greatest part is that he is my very own Perez Hilton with a sense of style and a gorgeously boyish face. He looked at one woman that walked past up and down, we both giggled. Once again...leggings are not pants and there comes a time in your life that you should not have long hair. Botox just may be a better investment than hair color.
Enough of my pathetic crush...

Talk Derby to me

2009-05-03T18:30:00.000-07:00

I am back from my blog ban. In the past week I have thrown two parties and I am pooped! On Saturday we hosted a Derby Party. It was a blast, my hubby is from KY so the derby is something that we always watch now. For the seventh year in a row I managed not to win anything. Tomorrows blog topic...why I love my new gay hair dresser. There is just something endearing about a man that says, "I'm not making fun of anyone's clothes...I am just pointing out the obvious."

Happy 40th!

2009-04-26T09:39:00.001-07:00

Last Night we threw an awesome anniversary bash for my folks! It was perfect, all of the stress was well worth it. Dancing under the stars with my dad...priceless!

Self Tanner Phobia

2009-04-25T09:59:00.000-07:00

I am freakishly pale. Pale is such a nice way of putting the fact that the color of my legs resembles the white out bottle on my desk.

I am a natural redhead, pale and freckles are a part of the package. I do not tan, I burn. I am in a constant state of fear of skin cancer. I would never step foot in a tanning salon, but I would try sunless tanner. I must admit however; that I have a self tanner phobia. This stems from the summer of 1986.

I was in 7th grader at Del Robbison Junior High in Las Vegas. The kids on the honor roll were being rewarded with a trip to Wet & Wild, a water park on the strip. A few weeks prior, my mother had allowed me to buy my first bikini. It was a glorious shade of florescent orange with ruffles. The ruffles helped hide the fact that I was still far from developing. I felt great in my new swim suit. At school the girls were all a twitter, discussing their swim suits. One of my friends bragged about the fact that she had already started laying out to get her base tan. After school I rushed home to start on my base tan too. I put on my bikini and stared at myself in the mirror in horror. Florescent orange on a florescent white body, I was doomed. There was hope... my mother had recently purchase a tube of the "new sunless tanner". Bain de Soleil was one of the only ones on the market at that time and it was fairly pricey. My mother promised that she would help put the lotion on before the trip. This eased my mind, I too would have a tan just in time to hit the man made beach.

The day before the trip I kept pestering my mother to help me with the lotion. She said that she would get to it sometime that evening. Patience is not a virtue for a thirteen year old. While my mother was cooking dinner I went to her bathroom and took out the Bain de Soleil. My tan was in my fingertips. I squeezed out the fowl smelling white lotion and began to apply it all over my body. There were directions on the tube, but I knew how to put lotion.

A few hours later my mother told me that she could help me with the lotion now. She did a double take and started to giggle. The giggle got louder and louder until she had tears welling up in her eyes. Once she calmed down she asked, "did you use my Bain de Soleil without me? Common sense would have told me to fess up, but common sense is rare in a thirteen year old. I rolled my eyes and replied, "no". My mother said well do me a favor and check yourself out in the mirror.

I rushed to the mirror and looking back at me was an orange ompalompa. I pulled off my clothes and saw orange hand prints,streaks,and spots. In a dead pan voice my mother asked one more time, "are you sure that you didn't use my Bain de Soleil ?" I was caught orange handed literally. I spent the rest of the evening trying to scrub off the orange, I rubbed my skin raw, but it was no use.

The next morning, I announced to my mother that I was simply not going to the water park. She replied, "oh , yes you are." I managed to survive the embarrassment of the water park, but to this day I am terrified of becoming orange again. The formulas are so much better now, I know.

I learned a lesson that fateful day in 1986, sometimes mothers do get the last laugh.

Catch a brake?

2009-04-24T07:43:00.000-07:00

I have been "off the blog" for the past three days. I wish that I could say that I have been basking in the sun on my porch with a cool margarita. No such luck. I have been dealing with one thing after the other. Claire has been sick with a 102 fever, I have a sinus infection, and Ella is "acting" sick just so that she won't be left out.

* Left 25 dollars worth of groceries in the car over night...the steak, pork tenderloin and chicken. So much for my budget saving recipes
* Twice this week forgot about wet laundry in the dryer...smells like mildew
* Spilled pitcher of OJ all over the freshly mopped floor.
* Discovered that my miracle bra new swim suit that I ordered makes my chest appear like my back. Some miracle!
* Hubby spread 300 dollars worth of dillo dirt 3 nights in a row, yard smells like sewer, just discovered that it is killing the grass.

This weekend I am hosting a 40th anniversary party for my parents. If I can make it to Sunday then I'm golden!

What a day

2009-04-19T20:12:00.000-07:00

We went to a Muster Day celebration with the family. Fun! We also went out to eat and then on to see the brodway production Aveneu Q. There were some really catchy tunes in the show such as: What Do You Do With A B.A. In English?,Everyone's A Little Bit Racist, and the ever popular song title...The Internet Is For Porn. You need to You Tube some of these songs. Hilarious. I can now say that I have had the privilege of seeing Muppets have sex. This is a strange concept since the muppet is purely a torso...

I lick it

2009-04-17T12:35:00.000-07:00

Claire is really into licking everything. She rather enjoys smearing peanut butter on her arms just so she can lick it off. She calls her tongue her "licker". I have asked her to wash her face, her reply is, "No! My licker do it Mommy." So I should have known a trip to Pet Smart to look at the animals would be a bad idea. The girls and I arrive at Pet Smart. Approximately 5 seconds into the trip, Ella sees the fish tanks and has to go potty. Pet Smart is NOT the place to go potty. I have one word for it, NASTY. After the trip to the potty, Claire begins pounding on the cages and aquariums. I reprimanded her and explained that pounding on the glass gives the animals headaches. She nodded and proceeded to kiss (sometimes a peck, others a french kiss) every cage and fish tank. I tried, I really did to restrain her affections. So, if she comes down with some strange illness I will not be surprised.

trends i won't be wearing

2009-04-15T19:04:00.000-07:00

Really? Who is going to wear this crap. The poor models can't even keep the thin bands of cloth in place. Yes, it is that dreaded time of the year again...the hunt for a swim suit. The mere thought of it turns my stomach. The three way mirrors, the "hygienic" sticker on the crotch, trying to cram your underwear into the bottom half of the suit. YUCK! After my last swim suit experience a few weeks ago, I have decided that it is time to suck it up and get a new one. I thought my first stop would be the internet. I can get it shipped to me and try them on at home. My first stop the Victoria's Secret site. There is free shipping for items over 100.00. I figure I get a few, try them on and send the majority back.
Decisions, Decisions, decisions... Beach Sexy, Miracle Bra, Very Sexy, or Body by Victoria. Let's see Beach sexy, I will be running after two kiddos on the beach, sand always seems to gravitate to the crotch region, my youngest has a fascination with straps (she prefers them off the shoulder) I'm going to have to say no to the beach sexy or very sexy. That leaves Miracle Bra or Body by Victoria. I am excited about this Miracle Bra idea. I have been clinging to my A+/B- since adolescence and I would really love a miracle. The woman wearing the suits looked to either be blessed by God or a surgeon. I don't think that Victoria has the power to work a large scale miracle. I loved some of the tops, but I just can't envision my mini miracle in there. On to the body by Victoria...please. My body is Body by Ella and Claire. So the search continues.

Mirror mirror on the wall

2009-04-13T17:25:00.000-07:00

Ella has really been imitating me recently. It just cracks me up. She is REALLY into reprimanding her little sister. Not that I am excited about that, but it is how she reprimands her. Today I caught her standing with her hands on her hips demanding that, "Claire clean up your mess right now." Claire replied, "NO!", so Ella once again with her hands on her hips replies, " No attitude Claire, do it now!" I couldn't help but crack up.

tomorrows blog topic...swimsuit search 2009

Happy Easter

2009-04-12T19:27:00.000-07:00

Presto!

2009-04-09T07:50:00.000-07:00

I am so glad that I have two girls. I know that the teenage years will be hell, but right now I am loving it. We were at a birthday party a few days ago. The little boys were pretending that golf clubs were guns. They were running around shooting everything. Ella tried so hard to play with the older boys, but she had no clue what a gun was. She was running around with a golf club "playing" with them. Instead of her club being a gun she thought it was a wand. She was running around saying, "presto!". The boy were screaming, "your dead", and she was yelling "your a princess". She really had no clue. I love it!

Therapy

2009-04-07T19:38:00.000-07:00

Ella and Claire have discovered my hiding place for my silicone boob inserts. Yes, I do where them when I am feeling in a "B" type of mood. The girls were running around the house screaming, "I have Mommy's Boobies". Great, what kind of therapy will they need after that?

Stinky Bottom

2009-04-06T12:14:00.000-07:00

Nothing makes you more humble than having kids. Yesterday Ella was having a great day. We went to Mighty Fine Burgers. I was so proud of Ella's behavior. Ella asked to go to the bathroom, so we went. Ella first and then I had to go too. I was just about to flush when Ella proudly announces in a loud voice, "Mommy you have a stinky bottom, you need to take a shower." I swear it wasn't me, someone in the stall next to me was going number 2. It was not like I could pipe up and say, "No Ella, that stinky bottom is in the stall next to us." Gotta love a three year old!

Why Digital Cameras Rock!

2009-04-04T11:05:00.000-07:00

Today we went to Breakfast with the Easter bunny at Nordstroms. The girls loved the bunny, but how many pictures does it take to get ONE with both of them looking at the camera???

Debbie Downer

2009-04-02T18:32:00.000-07:00

Have you ever been in a funk? The kind where you think every thing sucks, yet you know that on the whole you are darn lucky. I am stuck in a funk and I can't get up. I could go on and on with my pessimistic emotions right now, but I will spare you the ramble. I must say that the icing on the cake today was at Target. Yesterday, I had a 24 hour tummy issue and couldn't eat much of anything, I am riding the cotton pony and here I go again with my complaints. Anyway, I ran into someone that I knew back in high school (not the best years of my life)and she remarked, "My God, you are way too skinny. You need to eat." Really? I so wanted to say, "Wow you really have gotten fat. You really need to lay off the fries". I didn't say anything, I just looked at her. Luckily Claire broke the tension by catapulting her shoe across the aisle. I made a show of JOGGING over to get it and smiled..."Kids" and then I pushed the shopping cart like a bat out of hell to the check out stand.
Later today, I tried so hard to think positive thoughts while I folded laundry and watched Oprah. The guest was Suzie Orman. She gave a doom and gloom lecture and insisted that we all live on half of our current income because things really won't get better until 2015. Great news for those of us that ARE living on only one income. I glared at the TV and threw a fist full of Ella's panties at the screen. Tomorrow will be better.