Getting Excited

For the first time in many years, I am at peace and it is 3 days before Christmas. I know, peace and Christmas should but usually don't go together. But this year, I am ready and I am excited to actually enjoy the holiday. I am literally giddy about how the kids are going to react to what's going to be under the tree Christmas morning.

I scaled back this year. Way back. I didn't mail cards. I bought fewer presents for fewer people. I only baked what was completely necessary. I took time to enjoy the decorating and actually accepted help from Drew and Molly. I am making a small "no frills" dinner for Christmas Eve and we're eating the leftovers for Christmas. That's right people, you heard it here... leftovers for Christmas because I don't feel like cooking. I feel like enjoying.

I plan on finishing the wrapping tonight. Then the only preparations left are packing us all up for the trip north to visit the families. Even the thought of the 10 hour drive doesn't seem that bad anymore.

So with all these good feelings I'm having, there's really only one question that begs to be asked... what is Drew slipping into my ice cream every night that's putting me in such a happy mood??!! I'm off to search for the hidden bottle of Prozac.

Confession is Good for the Soul

Hello, my name is Elaine, and I don't finish things. I finish projects. I finish the laundry. What I don't finish is the end of something. I can not drink the last swallow of milk from the jug... I open a new one. I will not eat the last piece of cheese in the package. If I am running low on shampoo, I will buy a new bottle and start using it before I finish the old one. (This has almost led Drew and I to divorce over the number of "almost empty" shampoo bottles around the house... I've learned to hide them in the kids' bathroom - like a junky!)

The latest victim in my inability to finish obsession is poor Molly. I never finish the end of a bag of Pirate Booty. There will be 15 pieces left and I will move on to a new bag. Then, the old bags with the 15 pieces each will sit around getting stale. Until Molly finds them and happily finishes off the bag. Bless her heart, she enjoys the stale Booty. Sigh.

At least I know my condition is not genetic.

Another Cat Post

So it dawned on me this week that it's been months since I've seen Drew take an allergy pill. I asked about it and he agreed that yes, it's been months. I've also noticed that Figaro's usually mangy back is sleek and healthy looking. Hmmm.

In July, when we got Felix, I switched Figaro's cat food from the $40 per bag diabetic cat food she had been eating to a slightly more reasonable store brand for "sensitive systems" that they both could eat. About the same time, Figaro's nasty dandruff and mange cleared up, and so did Drew's allergies.

So, I've concluded that Drew is not allergic to cats, just cat dandruff. And Figaro was obviously allergic to something in the old food that is not in this new food and therefore, no dandruff.

SOOO, I just want to pat myself on the back for getting Felix and fixing every one's allergies. Way to go me!

All I Want For Christmas

Dear Santa,

Let me start by saying that I have tried to be a very good girl this year. The operative word here is tried.

There isn't much that I would like for Christmas this year, but there are some things that I would like to ask for for my family. Some may or may not fit into your sleigh.

Molly would like Sleeping Beauty to come to our house and live with us. I really don't know about that because I think she is a little bit of a floozy and I worry that she would put the moves on Drew. Instead, could you just bring her anything your elves can find with Sleeping Beauty on it.

Brody loves tools. And dressing up in tutus and heels. Do you have any frilly tool belts with matching pumps? Also, could Mrs. Claus come up with a cookie that has the nutritional value of broccoli?

Drew would like a job that doesn't suck and that lasts for more than 8 months. I would prefer if he could work 3 days per week and have full medical and dental benefits (especially since we found out today that he needs a root canal.) Also, if the job involves a secretary, I would like if she was ugly with irritable bowel disease.

My mother and father would like to go to Alaska to meet some crazy eagle lady. If you could keep at least one of their remaining investments from tanking into the toilet so they can afford to go, I would really appreciate it.

My sister has spent the last several years of her life looking for Mr. Right, and instead has been finding Mr. I Can't Handle The Thought Of Commitment. However, the newest man in her life just might be a keeper. Would you mind making sure there is plenty of mistletoe at her place to ensure the love keeps flowin'?

And lastly, for me, just two simple things. A new super capacity LG washer and dryer and boobs. Just the appliances need to be super capacity, the boobs can just be average.

As always, there will be milk and chocolate chip cookies waiting for you at our house. Thanks for everything and I hope you and Mrs. Claus have a very Merry Christmas.

With Love,
Elaine

Vegetables? No Thanks...

And now it's time for another exciting installment of "What's He Eating NOW!?!?"

When we last left our hero, Brody was dining on cat vomit that he found in the spare room. After acquiring a taste for "all things cat," Brody has now moved on to cat poop. From the litter box. Covered in litter. Delicious.

Our hero subsequently suffered the inhumanity of having his molars scraped free of poop and thus proceeded to bite his poor mother repeatedly while having this done.

After consulting with both the veterinarian and pediatrician, it has been decided that any worms and intestinal parasites our hero may have ingested will in no way keep him from future missions such as "Running with Knives" and "Flooding the House with Water from the Bathroom Sink."

Stay tuned for the next edition of "What's He Eating Now!?!?" (and please pray that it won't be subtitled with any trips to the emergency room.)

Everything but glitter (which I loathe)

Nine afternoons out of ten, if you show up at my house, you will find Molly happily on the playroom floor cutting, pasting, painting or coloring something. She loves all things crafty. Sequins. Feathers. Cardboard. Felt. Markers. Bells. Pom poms. You name it.

The problem is: Brody. He gets into all her stuff and destroys whatever she creates faster than she can create it. So I've had to pile up all her craft paraphernalia and box it up in the spare bedroom. Which pretty much sucks for Molly.

So for her birthday, I've decided to make Molly her own craft room. We bought her an easel and paints and paint brushes and non-spill paint jars. We got her a craft organizer with 40 drawers for all her little crafty things so they can be organized just the way she likes them (the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.) And Drew is building her a craft table with little cups that can hold all her markers, crayons, scissors, glue sticks, etc. I'm going to put it all in the room the night before her birthday and then when she wakes up on her 5th birthday, the room will be her present. I hope she won't mind that there won't be any wrapping paper to tear through. And I hope she likes it.

Of course to do all this I had to remove the bed that was in the spare room. So please don't try and take a shower in Brody's tub... there's a mattress in it!

Almost Done

Warning: This post contains "Nahnny Nahnny Boo Boo"

I just want to say that I've completed about 80% of my Christmas shopping. I usually procrastinate until the last minute and am still scrambling Christmas Eve to collect the last of it, but not this year. No sir. A few odds and ends and I am faneeto baneeto.

Feel free to refer to me as "Queen of Christmas Shopping" next time you see me. : )

Fourth

Inspired by Amy, here is the fourth picture in the fourth folder, in the fourth folder, in the fourth folder (I'm a little over organized).

This is Molly and my grandmother (her great-grandma). It was right before we moved so she had just turned 2. She always sends the kids homemade cards which they LOVE! We don't get to see her very often, but when we do, it's always wonderful. We are so happy to have her in our life. We love you Grandma!

It's not about me anymore... and that's okay.

I remember vividly when I was about 24 years old that Drew, our friend Chris and I went to this little back woods water park in Fayetteville, NC called Fantasy Lake. While we were there, I remember watching parents with screaming children forced to play in the "kiddie" area of the lake while we were able to do whatever we wanted in the "adult" section. I silently thanked God that I didn't have any children because I could not begin to imagine how sitting and watching a snotty 2 year old splash around in the water could be any fun at all.

Now, many years and 2 children later, I get it.

We spent the last 10 days aboard the Disney Magic, cruising around the western Caribbean and I can honestly say that they were easily 10 of the happiest days in my life. And with the exception of a few trips to the gym and one child free dinner, I spent the entire time in the "kiddie" area (and let's face it, the whole ship was a kiddie area!!) just watching my children delight in the magic and wonder that only Disney can inspire.

Nothing can compare to the joy that comes from watching your children have the best time of their lives. From the moment Molly saw the first princess to the last night of the cruise while we were watching the "Farewell" show and she leaned over to me and said as she was crying her eyes out, "Thank you Mommy... thank you for bringing me on this cruise!" and every moment in between, the trip was pure magic. She got a special meet and greet with Belle, Cinderella, and Snow White, spent HOURS swimming in the Mickey pool, could not be dragged out of the Oceaneer Club, and couldn't wait for the shows each night. And Brody, bless his little heart, could not get enough of the characters. We literally had to restrain him any time Mickey, Goofy, Donald or any of the characters were around. Many times throughout the trip, Drew and I looked at each other and knew that life really didn't get any better than this. How blessed we are.

Anyway, here are a few of the "magical" moments that took our breath away and made both Drew and I tear up and this wonderful part of childhood where anything is possible and dreams really can come true... with a little bit of faith, hope, and pixie dust.

Baby Picasso

Within the last week, Brody has discovered the wonderful childhood past time of coloring. All I can say is thank God that the crayons are non-toxic, because he's ingested more than he's colored with. He's very proud to show me, not the beautifully scribbled on paper, but the mouthful of blue crayon that is now stuck in his teeth. I hope they don't cause cavities.

I Swam, I Biked, I Ran in 56:54... Now I Need A Nap!

This morning I participated in the Ramblin' Rose Triathlon in Huntersville, NC. My dad and I arrived at 6:30 AM and I got ready in the dark. Bike, helmet, shoes, jacket, and gear in the transition area, chip on, and numbers marked all over my body (including a big 32 on the back of my leg for my AGE... nice.) A little before 8, the rest of the family arrived, and at 8:21 AM I got in the water.

When I started training for this back in April, my goal was just to finish. I could not run a mile. I had to walk. I didn't have a bike. And I hadn't swam a lap since before Molly was born. Today, not only did I finish, I actually did well. My bike was definitely my worst part. Out of 568 women who participated this morning, I was 282nd in the bike (30:38). But my swim and run were awesome. I was 78th in the run (17:17) and 55th in the swim (4:52)!!!! It felt so good to be a competitor today. I'm already searching for my next one.

And for those of you who have said to me "I can't even walk a mile or ride a bike." I say, "Yes, you can." I was just like you 5 months ago... but now I'm a triathlete. So, who wants to train with me for next year??!!

Here are some pictures of the race, and the link http://www.setupevents.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=event_results&id=1097 if you want to see my results. I was 155th overall.

When life gives you lemons...

I am going to have a positive post today if it kills me (and it might).

Ten things I am happy for:

1. Pants that fit. I bought 5 pair last weekend and it's such a nice feeling to wear nice fitting pants.

2. Sewing my children's Halloween costumes. I decided to make their costumes out of clothes this year so they can continue to wear the clothes for the rest of the winter. That way, no wasted money on wear once costumes.

3. Brody being sick with his 6th cold since June. I am happy that his little immune system is functioning properly and that he will never miss a day of school since he will have had every cold known to man before he is 3.

4. My husband. I am so glad that I married a man that not only has a fantastic butt but also always lands on his feet. While I am having a meltdown about the state of the universe, he assures me that he will take care of our family and that everything will be okay. Thank God I married a rock. He, apparently, married Jello.

5. Sunny fall days in Charlotte. Nothing better than spending the afternoon outside playing with my 2 very messy children.

6. My new haircut. It's always scary when I lop it all off. I got a great cut this time and I LOVE not having to do anything to it. Horrah!

7. Felix curling up in my lap. Is there anything better than a tiny ball of fluff purring contentedly in your lap without a care in the world? In my next life, I am definitely coming back as a house cat.

8. No gas. No gas means no driving. No driving means no shopping. No shopping means no spending money. No spending money means no guilt. No guilt makes me happy.

9. Shave and taper week. In the old days, the week before the biggest swim meet of the season, you would finally shave your legs (after weeks of not) and you would have easy workouts so as to not hurt yourself before the meet. With the triathlon on Sunday, it is officially shave and taper week. I am happy for the rest.

10. My faith in God. I've learn over many years that it's not my job to question the path my life takes. God has a plan for me and my family. When I trust in that, I will end up where I belong. We all will. With or without a government bailout.

He's One Happy Man : )

Tonight, in the checkout line at Target, I saw the big People headline of the decade: Clay Aiken is gay.


Is this actually news to anyone??


Seriously People. You could do better than that.

(And PS - I think the light pink lipstick shade he is wearing on the cover was Wet & Wild shade 58... I wore it in middle school.)

In search of my handbasket...

I've looked and looked but I can't seem to find my handbasket anywhere. This is especially concerning to me because it appears that I might be needing it soon on my upcoming trip. To Hell. Courtesy of the US Government and many, many of my fellow Americans.

The state of our country's economic despair is not news to our household. Drew spends every day tracking what is going on and he has a lot of access to a lot of information thanks to his job. I hear about Fanny Mae and Freddy Mac. I hear about plummeting stocks. Layoffs. A lack of credit. Government takeovers. And I am scared. And not just for our family, but for everyone. Because apparently, we are living in a time when personal decisions have global implications.

And after last night's Presidential speech, I am now scared that the few dollars that I have in my pocket might not be worth any more than the lint. And you can't buy anything with lint. I've tried.

I don't think there's been a time in my life when I've ever felt like we might not get through this. And by we, I mean all Americans. I think that this is such a pivotal point in our country's history. We have to realize that we are all in this together. The decisions that we make as individuals will eventually affect ALL OF US! Right now, my family is okay. Drew and I are relatively smart people and we have a pretty good understanding of how the world works. We have always made what I feel are practical decisions for our family. We try to live within our means and that has always been important to us. But that is not enough anymore. The fact that your family might be in trouble is going to start to affect me.

The entire economic structure of our country is failing because of poor decisions made by many people at many levels. From way up high at the governmental level and corporate level to way down low at the individual American level. Part of me is angry because I didn't personally screw up and I shouldn't have to be paying the price for other people's mistakes. But the bigger part of me is saying that we are all human, and we all make mistakes. And whether I like it or not, we all need to start taking care of each other by being more responsible for ourselves and each other.

We live in this country with blinders on. We are Americans and by God we are going to do what we want to do when we want to do it and to hell with anyone that tells us differently. It's a free country, right??

Yeah, it doesn't seem like this "American" attitude is working anymore. About anything. About the economy, the environment, healthcare, education, etc. You can not just do whatever it is that you want to do without thinking about how it's going to affect the millions of other Americans that are going to have to eventually live with your decision. We are all in this together. We are all connected. We all have to collectively THINK before we make our decisions from now on. We are living now with what happens when we don't. I can only pray that we come out of this wiser and more aware of how connected we really are.

And please let me know if you see my handbasket... I'll be happy to share it with you. It might be a rocky ride.

Transformation Complete

Brody is officially the little brother of a big sister. I submit the following picture as evidence. Please observe the footwear. Oh yeah... they're Cinderella shoes. Very sexy.

Spelling

We do a lot of spelling in our house. As in, if we don't want Molly to know what we are talking about, Drew and I will spell to one another so she doesn't understand.

In the past few weeks, Molly has began "spelling" when she talks to me. For example, "Mom, can we go to the P-W-H-N-D? You know Mom, the pool?" Or, "Don't tell Brother about the S-T-W-I. You know, the snack."

Just recently, she is actually starting to spell words, and as luck would have it, she has learned to spell poo. You know, P-O-O.

She told me today that she told her teacher that she needed to do a P-O-O, so could she use the restroom please. I am torn between being proud of her spelling ability and mortified that her teacher knows that someone has taught her to spell poo. Can't wait to hear what the next disgusting word will be that she learns to spell.

Fifteen Again

Here I am, pushing 33 (gasp) and I didn't realize how encapsulated I've become in my grown up life as a mom and wife until last Friday night.

Many of you know, we braved Hurricane Hanna down in Myrtle Beach last weekend. She arrived just as we drove in, and by about 10:30 that night, she was hitting full force. In an effort to keep the minivan from getting destroyed by the storm surge or any falling trees (how responsible), Drew and I headed out into the storm to move it further inland. Needless to say, we got drenched. When we got back into the condo we were soaked and freezing and as we were stripping down to put on dry clothes Drew says to me, "We're already wet, we might as well go swimming." And I said, "Yeah, naked."

Our eyes met and there was a burst of excitement that 10 years of marriage has a way of blurring. Drew says, "No Elaine, just kidding." And I say, "I'm going. Are you coming?"

After a moment of not talking, he finally says, "Well, at least put a suit on."

We ran down to the beach like two little kids. It was raining upwards so hard that we could barely see. The waves were rough. The wind was so strong that we had trouble standing up. The water was hot, like bath water. Drew refused to come in the water, fearing for his life and not wanting to leave his children fatherless. I, however, ran in, full steam with reckless abandon. The type I had many years ago. Before sanity set in. In a moment of pure silliness, I pulled my top of and ran into the angry ocean like a free woman. It was amazing.

I will probably never have the opportunity to swim naked in the ocean during a hurricane ever again. My 15 year old self would have been proud of me. And my 33 year old self is pretty proud of me too.

PS - My sister was asleep with the kids while all this was going on. I did not leave them alone while I was out frolicking. What kind of irresponsible person do you think I am!? : )

My Backyard...

is completely flooded. And I am so happpy. Hooray for rain!

(Can you tell it's a slow day around here?)

Move Over Men, Here Comes Elaine!

Yesterday I completed the Harris Y Splash and Dash, a 400 meter swim followed by a 5K. Good times. Out of 75 participants, I placed 25th for the swim and caught up to and passed two brawny men that were swimming in front of me. Nothing like being a 24 year old man being passed by a 32 year old mother of two. And I finished the 5K in 31:06 which was 5 minutes faster than my last race. The only bummer was that when I crossed the finish line, there was no one there to cheer me on... I went faster than Drew expected and he and the kids didn't make it in time! They did make it in time for Molly to do the Tot Trot, which she loved!

Fruit Salad

We were all in the car yesterday and Molly was in the backseat being a maniac. Out of nowhere from the back we hear:

Molly: Knock knock.
Us: Who's there?
Molly: Banana.
Us: Banana who?

Molly: Knock knock.
Us: Who's there?
Molly: Banana.
Us: Banana who?

Molly: Knock knock.
Us: Who's there?
Molly: Grape.
(Grape??!!)
Us (looking at each other wondering where this is going): Grape who?
Molly: Grape you glad I didn't say banana again? (Followed by hysterical laughter.)

Drew almost had to pull off the side of the road we were laughing so hard. We couldn't decide what was funnier; that Molly has no idea what the point of a Knock Knock joke is or that she thought you could insert any old fruit in place of the "Orange" and that would make the joke funny. This is why they don't let 4 year olds on "Last Comic Standing."

Not Dead Yet

Those of you who know me from my youth, know I am a swimmer. I am a swimmer because I am not a runner. I would prefer 100 laps in the pool to 10 minutes on the treadmill.

Drew is the runner in the family. He has run several marathons and run half marathons with 80 pound rucksacks on his back. He, however, can not swim. Therefore, we don't do a lot of working out together.

In a effort to spend some more "quality time" together as a family, I suggested that I could probably manage a 5K as long as Drew ran with me for emotional support with the kids in the stroller. My goal was to finish in under 45 minutes with no walking and have my last 1/2 mile be the fastest.

Yesterday, I completed my goal at the James K Polk 5K in Pineville. We finished as a family in 36:02 and I can honestly say I was not too winded and probably could have gone on at least another couple of miles.

Stay tuned for the upcoming post: "Elaine Finishes Her First 10K"

(Also, Molly ran in her first fun run! She was smiling ear to ear, even though she ran "in the back like mommy!")

Felix Update

If you come to my house at 8pm every night, you will find Felix curled up sound asleep on Drew's lap. You know Drew, the one who said I was crazy for getting him. And the one who is highly allergic to cats. Karma's funny, isn't it?

A Sucker is Born Everyday

And apparently, on a cold October morning 32 years ago, I was that sucker.

It all started quite benignly. I went to the vet to pick up Figaro's diabetic cat food (this is another post for another time). We walk through the door and greeting us is a cage of three little bundles of fluff. Cute. Little. Kittens.

"Oh, how cute," I say, "are they all females?" (Please be females so I can walk away.)

"No, all 3 are males."

Oh crap.

"Would you like to hold one?"

No. No. No. No. "Sure."

So they get out not one but all three and Brody spends the next half hour playing chase with the three kittens all around the lobby of the vet's.

You know where this is going people. You've seen it from a mile away. I took Molly back after summer camp to pick him up.

His name is Felix and he's now living in our playroom.

Molly (and Brody) Play (and I use this term loosely) the Trumpet

Molly loves to play our instruments. Drew got out his trumpet and she played some beautiful music for us : )

And not to be outdone, Brody had to try too. Sort of.

Also Molly plays our guitar. She's a regular rock star. Check out her snazzy tattoo.

Show me yours...

and I'll show you mine.

My playlist that is.

After several months of listening to the same stuff as I run and bike, I am ready for some new ideas. Here is what I listen to now. Please tell tell me what's on your playlist so I can keep going. I still have 2 1/2 months left to train. Ugghh.

Confetti - The Lemonheads

A Good Idea - Sugar

Rotting Pinata - Sponge

What's My Age Again - Blink 182

Molly - Sponge

In A Big Country - Big Country

Sweetness - Jimmy Eat World

American Girl - Tom Petty

Grey Cell Green - Ned's Atomic Dustbin

Clocks - Coldplay

Primary - The Cure

In the Blood - Better Than Ezra

Martyr - Rusted Root

Believe - Dig

Unwritten - Natasha Bedingfield

Angels of the Silences - Counting Crows

Sometimes - James

Move Along - The All American Rejects

Blister in the Sun - Violent Femmes

Where's Brody?

So this past week was a big week for my little man.

First, after months and months of driving us crazy with having to hold his cup for him while he drinks (seriously funny looking for those who have seen it) Brody found a cup to his liking that he will drink out of by himself. Hallelujah!! He will only drink from Rubbermaid containers with hard flip up straws and I only have 2 that were Molly's. So if you see them to buy, please let me know.

Second, Brody's last baby teeth came through. At 14 months we are done all of them but the 2 year molars!! Yeehaw! No more teething!!!!

And third, we took his "bippy" aka pacifier away for daytime. He still has it for sleeping because Lord knows, we all need our sleep. But it's gone for daytime! He's not nearly so attached to it as Molly was, and I figured I might as well take it before he has the words to tell me no!

So next time you see Brody, you might not recognize him, now that he's "all grown up!"

How Traditions Start

Fourth of July is my favorite holiday. Always has been and probably always will be. There's not all the buildup of a lot of other holidays and it's pretty easy to prepare for. And nothing is better than the big fireworks that boom so loud that you can feel it in your soul.

But I digress. Last year, when Brody was 2 months, we took a picture of Molly and Brody on the blue chair in the family room because they were cute in their red and blue outfits. (Independence Day is the only day that you will see my children "dressed" for the occasion.) So tonight Drew suggests that we do it again, since they were again, so cute in their outfits (albeit stained and wet from a day of super good fun.) So we did.

And now I find myself sitting here alone tonight. Listening to the cacophony of fireworks outside my bedroom. Looking at these two pictures taken a year apart and I wonder: how does a year go by so fast, and am I willing to keep that same chair so that I can force Molly and Brody to squeeze their butts in it together when they are teenagers!! Tee hee!

Mission Complete Disney... She's All Yours

The Disney marketing machine is, as far as I'm concerned, the most powerful force in the life of my daughter.

More specifically, Disney Princesses have become the sole focus of her young existence. And more specifically than that, Sleeping Beauty.

I'm not quite sure how the obsession began. I use the word obsession. People throw that word around and use it when they really mean "moderate interest." I am dealing with a full blown obsession here people.

We can not enter a store without having to point out every single thing in the store that has a princess on it. There are usually about 30-40 things. She knows where all of them are in Target and delights in pointing each of them out as we race through the store. Luckily, she realizes that I am not buying them for her. (I leave that to Grandma.)

She has enough princess t-shirts that she could wear one each day of the week, which she began doing until I had to restrict her princess t-shirt wearing to 2 days a week. She looks forward to Friday and Saturday with wild abandon.

She owns many, many, many, princess things. Here's a small list:

15 books

Bike helmet

Scooter

Porcelain Sleeping Beauty

6 t-shirts

3 pair of pajamas

12 large Barbie size dolls

Large stuffed Sleeping Beauty

50+ small figures

Backpack

Lunch bag

4 water bottles

8 sippy cups

6 pool diving sticks

I could go on, but you get the idea.

We are going on a Disney Cruise in the fall and I've been told that if Sleeping Beauty isn't there, she doesn't even want to go. Please pray that she is on that ship.

Recently, I discovered that she cut her own hair (and she knows all about what happened to poor Lainey!) When I asked her why in the world she would cut her bangs that I have NEVER cut, she said she wanted to look like, you guessed it, Sleeping Beauty.

I'm trying not to be too upset about her fixation with the harmless princesses. I know that by the time she tires of them, we will be on to a new obsession... and it will most likely be boys. Oh God.

For now, I'll cope with the princesses.

Owl - The Other White Meat

To The Owl Outside My Window at 4AM This Morning:

Mr. Owl, please go away. I have finally reached a point as a parent where my children are letting me sleep through the night, and now here you are, hoot-hooting outside my window at all hours of the night.

I realize that in order to build my house, your tree was chopped down and you are probably living in some condo uptown now. I realize that you are doing a wonderful job of keeping vermin out of my house. I realize that you are just doing your "owl" thing by hooting up a storm in the middle of the night.

You need to please realize that I am annoyed. If you continue to wake me, I will be forced to take drastic measures. I will not hesitate to try and shoot you with a BB gun and we will have you for dinner.

Thank you for your consideration in this matter.

Sincerely,

Elaine the Tired

ANSWER: Severe Constipation

QUESTION: What happens when your entire diet consists of whole milk and frozen waffles.


Brody continues to be my picky eater. I swear that it's a result of months and months of drinking nothing but nasty tasting Similac Alimentum.


There is a very small list of things that Brody will even consider touching with his fingers, let alone putting in his mouth. And all of them are carbohydrates. Here's a list of what he will eat:

Frozen waffles
Frozen french toast
Toast
Pancakes
RollsCrackers
Pirate Booty
French fries
Nutragrain bars
Eggs


He will eat a bite or two of hot dog and chicken, but that's about it.


At this point, he screams in agony when he tries to poop because he is so constipated. I sat with him for the better part of a half and hour today when I knew he was starving and tried fruit after fruit, begging him to taste any of them, but to no avail.


I have put the new cookbook by Jessica Seinfeld on hold at the library and am going to try to make the food with vegetable purees to see if I can get him unclogged. I won't hold my breath.


In other Brody news, he is now napping with both arms out of his swaddle (baby steps) and he runs around the house screaming "BAA, BAAA" pretending he's a sheep. He thinks he's funny. I think so too.

The Tire Saga Continues...

After the flat tire debacle, I tried pumping it up two days later. It clearly said inflate to 40 psi. Had I known that the meter on our air compressor was not working, I would not have inflated it to the point where it EXPLODED!!!


(I wonder at what psi a bike tire inner tube explodes?)


Bought a new inner tube and let Drew inflate it this time. We are finally back in business. I am such a dork.

File Under P.U.

You know how you start a movie and it's slow to get started, but after 20 minutes or so you're kind of vested in it, so you keep watching. And after an hour you're like "what is the point of this movie... we should just turn it off!" But you don't because you are just hoping and praying that the point of the movie is forthcoming. And then after 2 hours you are just pissed because it's not over yet and it's the dumbest movie you've ever seen. And then when it finally is over, you just look at each other, because yes, that was it. Ugghhhh.

If you have never had this type of movie watching experience, may I suggest The Darjeeling Limited with Owen Wilson. It stunk.

Better Gas Milage = Inflated Tires... Trust Me!

Because of our current gas crisis, the news is always telling us ways that we can make our gas dollar go further. One of the ways they suggest is to make sure that your tires are properly inflated. I always kind of ignore these suggestions... until now.

Yesterday, I got the kids up and had them in the bike trailer by 7:30 for our morning bike ride. We usually do about 5 miles because that's about when the snacks run out and Brody looses his mind.

At the end of mile one I was exhausted. Mile two was worse. By three and four, I thought I was having a heart attack!! As we coasted down the street back to the house, I couldn't figure out why this ride was soooo hard, considering I take the same path every time.

So I get off, get the kids out, and take a look at the bike. It seems fine. And then I look at the trailer. One of the wheels was COMPLETELY flat. As a pancake. Nothing like dragging 70 pounds behind you with only one wheel!!!

So this morning I checked the air pressure in my car tires. If my poor minivan engine is anything like my legs, it will appreciate inflated tires. I get it now Mr. News Reporter. Lesson learned and point taken.

Government Agencies... I Loathe You.

For all of you who have spent hours and hours waiting endlessly at the DMV, ready to take your own life or the lives of others at the end of a fruitless day, take heart. I have found a place where things are worst.

The United States Passport Office.

As of February of 2008, all children under the age of 16 are now required to have a valid US passport in order to leave the country. You may not go to Canada. Not the Caribbean. Not Mexico. You MUST have a passport.

Drew and I both have passports that we are able to renew through the mail. Brody and Molly are another story. I must present them, 2 photographs, their birth certificates, myself, and a notarized authorization from Drew to the local passport office in order to get them passports.

So we head off this morning to the closest one, about 20 minutes away. They open at 10am. We arrive at 10:15. I get both children, the stroller, toys, and 300lbs of documentation out of the car and head to the front door. On the door is a small sign stating that the passport office door is in the rear of the building.

Lovely. Do I pile everyone and everything back in the car to drive around to the back or do we walk? It's 90 degrees but what the heck, we'll walk. How far can it be??!!

Ten minutes later, in the rear of the building I find another door and another sign. "Passport Office. Employees Only. All others use door to the left." More walking. Another door with three large steps to drag the stroller up (aren't there laws about handicap accessibility??!!) Haven't even made it through the door, and already I'm fuming.

So finally we are in. And then we round the corner of the dark and dank hallway. There sit 14 people. All waiting for passports. I sign my name on the sheet and turn to a lady standing by the door to ask how long she's been waiting and how fast the line is moving. Everyone has been there since 10 and it is now 10:30. And they are still processing the first person. Oh. My. God. At this rate we will be seen sometime next Thursday. I look at my two whiny, sweaty, snackless children and decide the stars have not aligned properly and there is no way we are waiting for 14 people to finish.

So I lug the stroller back down the stairs (where IS the wheelchair ramp!!??) and we start walking back around the building.

And Molly says, "Mommy, that was the dumbest place ever." No kidding girl. No kidding.

For Kimmy

It was brought to my attention by my oldest friend Kim (not the oldest in age, but the friend that I have know the longest in my life) that it's been over 10 days since my last post and that surely something has gone on in my life in that time. So, here's what's been going on...

1. Both vehicles have been in the shop. My tailgate somehow lost all of the hydraulic fluid and refused to stay open and Drew was rear ended by some idiot. Nothing like coordinating cars in the shop.

2. I was elected President of the Steele Creek MOM's Club. I can't imagine myself as president of anything, but here I am.

3. Both children were sick with both the stomach virus and some nasty cold thing. Diarrhea and mucus, always a winning combination.

4. I walked in the American Cancer Society's Relay for Life as a cancer survivor. I wasn't expecting to feel sad or humbled. I felt both.

5. Molly finished her first year of school. One down, 18 - 22 years to go!! She cried because "what am I going to do without my friends ALL SUMMER??!!"

6. We took our first ride on the new light rail up to Speed Street and then had a wonderful dinner at Pike's Soda Shop. Some interesting characters on the light rail, but a fun experience none the less.

7. We became official Geocachers when we took the GPS on it's inaugural journey to Gastonia looking for loot. We found two caches! Whoopee!

8. I bought a bike stroller so I can take the kids with me while I train for the bike portion of the triathlon. It's major work to pull an extra 70 pound along behind you, but good training!! (Tried it this morning without the kids and whoa is it easier!!!)

That's about it for the last couple of weeks. More mayhem to come...

Check Your Pepperonis

Another installment of "My Kid Said WHAT?"

So we took a walk to the playground and were swinging the kids on the swings having a ridiculous family conversation involving Pinky Dinky Do and the "Eat It or Wear It" game.

Drew: Tuna fish, eat it or wear it?
Molly: Wear it on your ears!!!
Drew: Cheese, eat it or wear it?
Molly: Wear it on your head!
Drew: Pepperoni pizza, eat it or wear it?
Molly: Wear it on your feet!
Drew: And what about the pepperonis?
Molly: Wear them on your NIPPLES!!!!

We tried not to laugh. Really. We did.

The Way the Universe Works

Why on the day that I am feeling a little bloated, that my thighs are a little cheesy, that my eyes are looking very tired, that my boobs are way too small, or that I have a zit right in the middle of my face, why, for the love of God, is that the day that the Victoria's Secret catalogue arrives.

Sigh.

Deliver Me From MP3 Hell

I'm about to sound like a really old person...


Remember in the old days how easy it was to listen to music? If there was a song I wanted to listen to, I went to the store, bought the tape, popped it into my Sony Walkman and away I went. Apparently I haven't had time to listen to music in a while because good Lord how things have changed.

So I've decided do participate in a triathlon in October. I feel good about the swimming and the biking, but I SUCK at running, so I'm concerned. The treadmill and I are getting acquainted. Out of boredom, I've been borrowing Drew's MP3 player and quite frankly I am sick of the crap he has on there. No big deal, I'll just download my own stuff.


Oh. My. God.

I should have gotten my master's degree in computers because it has taken me hours and hours to figure out how to find, download, and organize songs into playlists. I've joined Napster and am currently trying to download every song that I've ever heard or might possibly want to ever listen to in this month so I only have to pay the first $14.99. I will say that music is definitely cheaper than it used to be considering I can download hundreds of songs for the price of one album, but have you priced concert tickets recently?? Artists are making up for album sales there for sure. I remember in the old days I could see 12 bands for $20. Uh oh, there I go sounding old again.

525,600 Minutes

I wanted to take a few minutes tonight, now that the cake is eaten (and worn) and the presents are unwrapped (and eaten) to reflect on the first year of my favorite little boy. Here are the things I will never forget about your first year:

1. The fear and anxiety I experienced in the five minutes prior to your birth. I knew what was coming and knowing you were part of the deal was the only thing that got me through.

2. What a great nurser you were and those few special hours that you and I spent alone together in the hospital just becoming Mommy and Brody.

3. How you would smile with your mouth wide open with no teeth and your whole face would just radiate with happiness.

4. How you waited until you knew how to do something before you would do it. You wouldn't try to crawl. You waited until you could and then you did. It was the same with rolling over and walking. You were patient.

5. What an easy baby your were. Meltdowns were infrequent and usually only when you were sick.

6. How you loved your sister and delighted in any activity that included the both of you... from bath time to running around with Daddy to swinging on the swings on the playground.

7. You were born with a full head of black hair which all fell out and was replaced with unruly blond. Two minutes after combing it flat every morning, it would be sticking right back up again.

8. How much of a boy you were from the beginning. You loved loud sounds like trucks and lawnmowers. You enjoyed watching Daddy work with his hands. You loved playing outside and didn't mind being dirty. And you could throw a ball like a boy.

9. Three things that always got a smile: Glowworm, Molly's Cabbage Patch doll, and Daddy.

10. Your first word was Mama.

I know there are more, but it was a long day and I am tired and morning will be here before I know it. So Happy Birthday my Brody Bear. Can't wait to start making new memories tomorrow. Mama loves you.

Brody Ate Cat Vomit.

Ewwww. Add this to the list of disgusting things my son has done.

(I'd like to add that my daughter never did these things. Must be genetic on the male side.)

Texas Children

As both a mother and advocate for children over the years, I feel compelled to put my 2 cents out there about what is going on in Texas with the polygamist sect children.

I've watched on TV both sides of this controversy. I've read about it online and in the paper. And I just can't stop thinking about those 400 children and how scared they must be right now.

I absolutely believe that the men of this "religious" group are sick, and have been raised generation after generation to be so. The women also are brainwashed and have been institutionalized to the point that they no longer feel that it is unusual for their "husband" to take advantage of young children. I don't agree with polygenism (however, any woman that can cook and clean and give me the night off is welcome to spend some time alone with Drew... wink, wink!) but once you are an adult, you are free to make your own mistakes and who am I to judge? What I can't condone is the lifestyle in which these young men and women grow up thinking that it's okay to fondle children.

All of that being said, when I read this morning that they have put at least 100 of these kids in foster homes already, before DNA testing, before due process can even begin to work out this tangled mess, I felt just sick. As a mom, I can't imagine my 2 babies being ripped from me. I can't imagine how scared and alone they would be and how much they would miss me. I realize that the situation at the "compound" is probably not a safe environment, but how about letting the mothers and children stay together in some sort of shelter facility until things get sorted out. Or, send them back home and remove the sick bastard men! If anyone should be punished preemptively, it seems to me that they should be the ones bearing the burden, not the innocent children.

I am scared that the leaders of this country feel that this is the best way to "protect" these children when quite obviously, from the outside looking in, they may very well be doing as much harm as the own members of their community. I will pray for these kids that they will be back with their mothers soon and in a place that will be safe for all those involved.

$64.27

This is what it cost to gas up the minivan today. Are you kidding me?? I know, it's a minivan, not great gas mileage, but I'm a mom, it's what we drive. The only good news is that I live less than 5 miles from everything in my life so a tank lasts a couple of weeks. But still. Time to start whoring myself out for gas money. Can't believe it's come to this.

(Don't laugh if you see me driving on the side of the road on a moped with the kids tied to my back and Target bags dragging along behind. It will mean the whoring isn't going so well.)

I Hate the Toilet

After a marathon trip to Target, I returned home in desperate need of the bathroom. For those of you who haven't tried, dragging two kids and the shopping cart into the stall with you while you try to go is possible but not at all pleasant. Thus, my desperation at home.

So, I throw the kids and the shopping bags in the playroom and RUN to the bathroom, trying not to kill myself by tripping over any toys on the way.

I go. And I wait anxiously for the pitter patter of little feet down the hallway announcing the arrival of someone who will inevitably destroy my hopes of having a moment of peace to myself. No feet. No sound at all.

This can't be good.

Pants up. Run to the playroom. Molly happily playing. Brody... MIA.

And then I hear it. Plunk. Splash. Plunk. Splash.

And there he is, throwing the contents of the Target bags into Molly's toilet. New shorts. Hangers. A t-shirt. He's covered in toilet water. And he couldn't be happier with himself.

So, I guess I'll be off to Target to buy toilet seat locks. I'll use the bathroom BEFORE I leave this time.

I'm coming, Dwight, Jim, Pam, and Michael...

When you are a stay at home mom, it's the little things that help you get through the day. With no school this week and Brody taking only 1 nap, this has officially been my longest week as a mother. But one thing got me through today, and it's name is "Must See TV Thursday."

New Earl, new Scrubs, and most importantly, new Office.

Off to watch!!!

Back Away from the Clippers

Those of you who know me may or may not know that I have a cat. Her name is Figaro. Here is her brief history:

In my house growing up, the only good cat was a dead cat, and thus I was never allowed to have one. My junior year of college I decided that I had waited long enough to have a cat and so Drew and I spent the better part of a Sunday morning pouring through the classifieds searching for free kittens. We found one listing at a farm about 15 minutes from school and that afternoon we got Figaro. She spent 2 years in college with us, moved back home to my parents with me after college (when it was then decided that maybe cats weren't so bad after all), lived through the army years and army moves with us, lived with us in countless apartments and several homes, welcomed home 2 new babies into our family, and is now peacefully living out her golden years in the window seat in our attic.

A beautiful Maine Coon longhair in her prime, Figaro is now plagued by diabetes (probably precipitated by all the low fat frozen yogurt we would sneak home to her from the college cafeteria) and she is for lack of a better word, mangy. I usually take her to get shaved 3 -4 times a year, but the cheapest place I have found here in town to do it is $75. I'm bothered by the fact that I spend more money on my cat's hair than I do on my own. So, in an attempt to save a few bucks, I tried shaving her myself this morning with Drew's hair clippers (don't tell him.) It did not go well. And Figaro was not the problem. She did not bite or claw or even hiss at me. She actually purred. I, however, should know my own limits when it comes to shaving a cat.

If you happen to stop by and catch a glimpse of my beloved Figaro, please don't laugh too hard. I'll make her an appointment with the real groomers soon, I promise.

7 Months

That's how long we have until W. will be out and someone new will be in. I would love to feel relieved, but I just don't.

I love this country I really do. I feel blessed to live here and glad that I am raising my family in a country like ours. Drew spent 8 years of his life defending it and I am so proud of him for that. I have lived in quite a few states, visited most of them, and spent time travelling overseas as well, and I can honestly say our country is worth fixing. Because right now I think it's broken.

Seriously, we're not in good shape people. And the worst part for me is that I really don't think there is any one person (at least not who is going to be on the ballot in November) who is going to be able to fix it all. There's just too frickin' much gone haywire.

Here's my short list of things that could use some "tweaking" around here:

1. Healthcare. Lots don't have it and those of us who do are paying through the nose for sub par care. And let's be honest... it's not really "health"care at all, it's "sick" care. I don't know what the solution is, and I don't think the 3 lunatics (and I use this term in the most respectful way) up for the positions do either. It just smacks me as idiotic that the insurance companies in this country are publicly traded and therefore obligated to their shareholders to turn a profit. Seems to me like this little caveat might be a good place to start.

2. The environment. We're killing it. And Joe Schmoe doesn't care. So we have to make him care by taxing him out the wazzoo for making a mess. (Also, on a little personal tirade, it pisses me off when I see neighbors who I know have access to free curbside recycling not using it. For the love on God people, how hard is it??!!)

3. Gas. It's too expensive and it destroys the environment and we need some other way to power this country. We can put a man on the moon but we can't figure out something better than a gas powered engine??!! Come on. Just shows you how deeply are elected officials are into the gas companies pockets.

4. Immigration. Welcome to our country. Love it and respect it. Get a job and pay taxes like the rest of us please.

5. The WAR. What a mess. Again, I have no answer except a time machine that would send us straight back to 2003 and let us rewrite history so that we never end up where we are.

6. The economy. R.E.C.E.S.S.I.O.N. You knew it was coming people. It's called an economic cycle for a reason. Do I think any of the illustrious senators can pull us out? God, I hope so. (Oh, and thanks for my whopping rebate check by which to spur the economy George. I'll try not to spend it all in one place.)

7. Mortgage crisis. You reap what you sow. Yet another thing pulling us down.

8. Education. There are no words.

I could go on and on with this list, but I have a point and here it comes. Are we crazy to think that one person is going to solve all of these problems. Heck yeah. It's way too much for just one person. And I don't care what they think, each and every one of the men and woman who has run in the election is just HUMAN!! There is no plate big enough. And I don't think anyone should have to think about fixing all of these things at the same time.

So, if someone died and I became master of the universe, here's what I would do. I would elect them all. All 10-12 of them that threw their hats in in the beginning. And each of them would get one thing. Just one. And for the next four years your job would be to find a solution to your one problem that makes everyone happy. Not just Democrats. Not just Republicans. Not just city folks. Not just country farmers. EVERYONE. And don't be worrying about what the others are doing. It's not your business. Just tackle your issue.

Ughhh. Well, it felt good to get that out. I hope I haven't offended anyone with my opinions. It's just the way I see things. Now off to not think about all of this anymore. Maybe not for another 7 months.

Bye Bye Ba Ba

Goodbye bottle, hello sippy cup!!

In an attempt to do something right to even out the long list of things that I am doing wrong in raising Brody, I decided that I would wean him off the bottle by a year old as all the parenting books and pediatricians suggest. I never had a problem doing this with Molly since she nursed for 10 months and only drank from a bottle for a few weeks. She never got "attached" to the bottle. Brody is definitely attached.

So two days ago I gave him his formula in a sippy cup. He refused to put it in his mouth. He screamed at me "ba ba ba ba ba." He gave me evil looks. He threw the cup. He cried tears of pure rage. But I did not give in. After 5 hours of not eating and screaming at me, he was finally hungry enough to succumb to the sippy cup. And he drank it all.

Mommy 1
Brody 0

He drank from the sippy all day yesterday as well as all day today. I think we are finally turning a corner and I am showing this kid who's the boss around here. (We all know it's really Molly, but for now, let's just pretend it's me!)

Brody Ate Green Beans.

I know. I know. There is something wrong with that sentence. It has a subject and a predicate. A noun and a verb. It just seems like there is something wrong, doesn't it? Could it be the part about Brody eating. How about the part about the vegetable?

Last night, in a moment of pure distress as Brody was screaming bloody murder at the indignity of being forced to sit at the dinner table with us while we eat, I put a green bean on his tray. And he ate it. The child who refuses to swallow anything. The child who gags on applesauce. The little boy who refuses to let anything that even smells like a vegetable touch his lips. ATE. THE. GREENBEAN. So I gave him another. And he ate that one too. And another. And another.

Ladies and gentlemen, Brody may be turning into a real honest to goodness human being after all. Now if I can just get him to sleep without being swaddled.

Hooray for Rain

I just wanted to say that every time it rains I just love it. The pitter patter on the roof. The darkness that is perfect for napping (the kids, not me). The way my grass looks so much greener while it's raining. And less guilt for the 2 extra minutes I will spend in the shower tomorrow!

Hug Your Kid

A little boy that lives down the street who we love a lot was diagnosed over the weekend with a malignant tumor in his head. Please give the special kid in your life a hug and say a little prayer for our buddy Sebastian. Thanks.

God is Dead

I went through a ton of infertility treatments to conceive Brody, and Molly came to all my doctor's appointments. Therefore, I felt it was necessary to explain to her about babies and where they come from.

I told her that when a Mommy and a Daddy love each other and want a baby, they let God know and when God is ready, He will put a baby in the Mommy's tummy. She accepted my explanation and has never questioned further.

So on Friday she says to me, very distraught, "Now that God is dead, who is going to make the babies??"

And I said, "What do you mean God is dead?" (Has she secretly been reading Nietzsche on the side??!!)

She proceeds to explain to me that they talked in school about Easter and about how Jesus died on the cross and he went to heaven. And Jesus really is God and so God is dead.

Where is the parent's instruction book on this question??!!! I did my best to explain about the death and resurrection of the soul, but how do you explain about these things to a 4 year old? In the end, she understands that God is not dead, but is up in heaven watching over and taking care of us. And making new babies everyday. She was relieved.

I think now I am going to go sit Brody down and have a little talk about where babies come from . I'll just tell him about sex because it's got to be easier to explain than death and resurrection, right?

Bon Voyage

I just looked it up... Japan is the healthy country on the planet. I'll start packing and we are moving there next week. We'll miss you all, but I've had it.

(Brody was diagnosed with yet ANOTHER ear infection this morning. Ugghhh.)

An Explanation

So if there is any bone to pick with motherhood, it's this: Motherhood is slow work. Very slow. What I mean is that I will spend years and years at this "motherhood" thing before I can ever really stand back, take a look at my work and say "Hey, look what I did!!" Motherhood is a work in progress. It's never done. Maybe in about 30 years I'll be able to look at my 2 children and beam in the afterglow of the wonderful adults that I produced. Until then, it's just slow.

Lots of jobs have endings. If I was an architect, I would design a building and then I could watch it being built, and when it was done I could say "Wow, didn't I do a great job? That turned out swell." Or if I was an airline pilot, I could fly my passengers safely to their destination and when we got there I could say, "Wow, I'm glad that's done!" Oooh, how about an actress! Then I could make a movie, finish it, watch it come out, and then go to an award show where EVERYONE would oh and ah about what a great job I did.

It's not even about the praise for me though. It's just about being able to look at a finished product and feel good about accomplishing something. Motherhood, with all of it's wonder, doesn't provide that satisfied feeling of a job well done (at least not yet - I still have a long way to go.)

All of this is an explanation for my project obsession. Drew is always complaining that I have some sort of project going on (and that I'm dragging him into it.) Always. The aforementioned painting and curtains, etc. I've explained to him my need for job completion and he tells me that I finish the laundry every week. I should feel good about that. Um, exactly. It's EVERY WEEK!! It never ends...

So my new project, inspired by the lovely weather we've been having, is a huge garden along the back of our fence. 27 shrubs and 1 crape myrtle. I dug in the first 6 yesterday and I can't tell you how good it felt to get outside and dig in the dirt. Between two summers living in apartments and last summer with an infant, it's been over 3 years since I've been able to do any gardening. Drew mentioned something to the effect that he really didn't think that we needed any more shrubbery and that 27 shrubs seemed like an awfully big project. In my own special and subtle way, I told him to stuff it and pick up a shovel.


Anyway, hopefully in 7-10 days I will have a beautiful new garden in my backyard that I can look at and say "Gee Golly, that looks terrific and I made that." And then the next 50 years of motherhood won't seem so daunting.

Bottoms

I guess I was about 6 or 7 when the movie Annie came out. It's always been a favorite of mine, so when TBS was running it commercial free this afternoon, Molly and I sat down to watch it. She LOVED it. She really got into it and laughed at the funny parts, got nervous at the scary parts, and was sad at the sad parts. At the end, I was trying to keep from getting emotional as Annie quotes the famous line, "and I love you Daddy Warbucks." So then the music comes to a fevered pitch and the song begins... "The sun will come out, tomorrow. Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow, there'll be sun..." Molly pipes up - "She said BOTTOM!!!!! Ha, Ha, Ha!!!" So much for my emotional daughter. I gave birth to Beavis and Butthead.

Poor Brody

Molly has a runny nose. Again. Therefore I have been running her steam humidifier at night. Brody thinks nothing is more fun than spilling the water out of the humidifier.

Until it was on.

He now has a blister on the palm of his hand the size of a dime where he put his hand over the steam valve.

The bad news is that he is not a one trial learner since he was trying again this morning to spill the water out of it. With the blistered hand. Let's hope he learns about women faster than he's learning about the dangers of steam or adolescence is gonna be rough.

How Do You Know When You're Old?

So we got a sitter for the afternoon. Four hours of peaceful kid-free time. Ask me what we did. Go on, ask.
We went to Target. Do you have any idea how much stuff they sell there?? I really had no idea being that I usually run in and run out as fast as I possibly can before any meltdowns can occur. It was blissful. Just wandering aimlessly down the aisles with absolutely no purpose. I needed nothing and was looking for nothing in particular.

We spent $174.36.

How did that happen?

Remind me to take the kids next time I go to Target... I'll spend less.

A Death

Just thought I would post for those who knew the good ole' 1988 Chevy Nova (my first car)... it finally died.

My dad took possession of the Nova 4 years ago when I upgraded to something slightly more reliable when Molly was born. At that point, it burned oil and I would have to add oil every few days religiously or risk burning up the engine.

Alas, dear old Dad forgot this bit of important information recently and killed my beloved car.

Farewell dear friend. God speed to the great salvage yard in the sky.

It's Curtains For You

Sometimes things just snowball in your life. One little decision ends up making for a whole lot of work. Exhibit A.
About 6 months ago, Drew saw a pool table at Sam's Club. The man has been obsessed with having a pool table for as long as I've known him and in a moment of weakness, I said what the hey.
The problem was that the pool table was going to have to go on the 3rd floor which was full of random crap and storage. So, after cleaning out the attic, up the pool table went. The pool table was soon joined by a foosball table, 2 leather recliners and the requisite TV. And thus, the "man cave" was born.
The next thing I hear is that he wants to paint the man room but he didn't know what color. So I have this lady come in to tell us what color to paint the man room and just for fun, the rest of the house.
Inspired, I picked up a roller and began painting: dining room, sunroom, powder room, family room, office, the hallways, Molly's room, Brody's room, and our bedroom. (Do you notice what room still has not been touched by a coat of paint?) So after painting all the walls, I decided that my window treatments were completely sub par, and began the quest for the perfect fabric by which to sew new curtains. Today, I began sewing the last set of curtains. And all I can say is Oy Vey am I tired.
I'm off now to thank Drew for buying the pool table. I can't believe how much work it's caused.