The "Talk," part 2

I think it's only fitting that when we hit 30 our parents sit us down again and talk to us about "changes" in our body. Preferably our mothers can sit in front of us with their hands clasped and talk to us about how we'll start noticing things happening to our body and how these changes are a normal and healthy part of growing up.

Some suggested topics:

-Gravity works, even (especially) on body parts. Things will sag; perkiness will fade. You will gain new understanding for the phrase "lift and tuck."
-At the same time parts are sagging, other parts are spreading. You are getting wider. You will take up more room. It's just a blessing of life.
-Your brain will slow down. You'll find yourself unable to remember the name of a friend you've known for years. Or where you put your purse/keys/wallet/children. A good tip: write it down. Or tie it to your wrist.
-Your belly will flop over your waist band when you sit. Even if you sit up tall. And eventually that waist band will become elastic because it will feel more comfortable.
-People will call you "ma'am" when you go to the store. You won't ever be confused with a younger person. "Ma'am" is okay-- it's a perfectly acceptable compliment. Try not to cry until you get in the car.
-Young people will think you are really old even at the same time the idea of "old" becomes older for you. 50 will not seem old at all!
-The toys you played with as a child will be labeled as "vintage" on eBay. It's okay, we've all been there.
-Black hairs will start growing on your face. Please pluck them out-- shave if you must-- but don't leave them.
-You will want to go to sleep early. EVERY NIGHT. And take naps. You will be perpetually tired instead of perpetually going.
-Those songs you danced to and rocked out as a teen can now be found on the local "oldies" station. Or in the oldies section of iTunes.
-Your chin will double. I know, it's hard, but it happens to the best of us.
-Teens will look like babies to you. Remember the year you had a crush on a totally mature 14 year old hunk? Look at a 14 year old now and you'll feel like you need to get help! What were you thinking?!?
-And, take a deep breath here, you will start to look like your mother/father/ grandmother/ great aunt. This is called genetics.

These are all parts of growing up. Middle age is just a normal stop in the journey of life. It won't kill you. There will just be more of you to love.

NOTE: I would recommend parents have this discussion after their children hit 30. If you do it before then, your children will either not believe you or will become suicidal. After 30, they will understand. And please, for the sake of kindness, wait to laugh at the horror and disbelief on your childrens' faces until you are out of the room. Thank you.

We finally did it!

We are now the proud owners of Sussex II Wiley Brown Maple Ultra cabinets with Star-crossed Stone counter tops. It took forever, but we finally decided.

Phew. That's a big step out of the way. Now on to the tile.

One of the BEST Baby Blues yet

This one is my life! These children are MY children. They are always responding to me like somehow I am torturing their poor souls and stealing all their candy/toys/friends. Sheesh! It was so nice to see it's a universal parenting! Phew!

Chasing a Dream

Several years ago I had an idea of a project I really wanted to do. It was something I felt would make a difference in the lives of others, but I was too afraid to try to make it happen. I felt too unqualified and unconnected and unimportant. Occasionally I'd find things that would help with the project and I bought them-- like 50 composition notebooks. The notebooks collected dust and took up space and every so often my hubby would ask: "What are these for again? Why do we still have them in our basement?"

I think I actually told my hubby about it. I told him exactly what I wanted to do. He was super supportive and gave me lots of suggestions for starting, but my fear still overpowered me. I did nothing and told no one about it. I was too afraid of being rejected. I kept my dream a secret for 3 years.

Finally this year I got brave. I started to resign from several of my volunteer positions (Power in You, Dating Violence Task Force, CERT) to make room for my project. So two weeks ago I looked at my schedule and thought: I have room. I have time. It was time to "put up or shut up." (I sure hope that's an appropriate phrase to use!).

I made one phone call. It went like I feared: "huh? No, we don't do that here. Call ____." I quickly scribbled down a phone number, called, and left a long-winded message. The lady returned my phone call that same afternoon while I was out school shopping. By the time I got heard it, it was too late to call her back. So I waited. And forgot. Finally, two days later, I took a quiet moment and returned the phone call. I got through this time.

She loved my idea and wanted to meet in person to start the paperwork.She wasn't totally sure where I could do it, but she said she'd try to help me. I would have to have a background check and fill out an application. I set up a time for the following week and traded some babysitting with my sis-in-law so I could go without my toddler.

This morning I showed up at 11 am. There was another lady already waiting, but it wasn't who I was supposed to meet. She had an appointment to meet the coordinator too. And then another lady showed up. My spirits started to sink. Was this just a mass roll call? Was I one of many instead of one in particular? I tried not to get discouraged. Would I have to compete with these ladies? Would there still be room for my idea?

The coordinator started speaking and explained how she invited us all there together so the other two could see what I-- yes, me!-- had planned. I handed out the draft syllabus I had created. The coordinator LOVED it! She wanted the other two to see how to present a specific idea or plan to the program for approval. She wanted me to be the role model for the other two! My spirits soared.

I filled out the paperwork and waited nervously. Then the coordinator introduced me to the director and one of the program administrators. They loved my syllabus. They loved the idea. They want me to start next Thursday! And could I possibly come one other night a week every month? And could I just keep in mind that when other programs heard about what I was doing that they'd ask me to help them too?

Wow! I floated out of the meeting, raced back home to get my toddler and get him down for his overdue nap, and then confront the mess of my house-- laundry, dishes, pet care. But I'm so excited. I told them how I waited so long because I was afraid that I wasn't qualified or that they wouldn't want me. The answer: not a chance of that!

So I'm doing it. I'm living the dream. Are you dying to know yet? I'm still nervous to tell people because it's not one of those "normal" activities women do (volunteering at a hospital, PTA involvement, or being a reading tutor).

Next Thursday I will start teaching a 6 week writing/journaling class to teens at the local detention center. And one Tuesday night a month I will be a sort of "life coach" to the pod of girls in detention. That's it-- I'm going to jail! And I'm thrilled. Now all I have to do is get ready to teach! I'll keep you posted.

the moral of the story: if you have a dream that you've been postponing, do it. Don't allow fear to let you waste time.

Decisions, Decisions

Natural Maple cabinets with Cottontail counter tops? Red Oak cabinets with Star Crossed counter tops? Natural Maple with Star Crossed? Red Oak with Cottontail?

So hard to decide!

And when I do decide, the hubby picks the opposite!

Luckily we had no issues choosing the knobs for the doors & drawers.

the Cereal Blockade

"Give me the soy milk." (shake, shake, shake)
"I already shaked it!"
"Like this?"
"Ye-aaah! Duh."
"Well, I'm going to shake it again."
"Fine!"
"I'm putting the cereal box right here. DON'T look at me!"
"But I need it. I didn't get any cereal."
"FINE! But give it back. OK, you're done. Give it back!"
"Fine! Here!"
"I'm putting it right here. DON'T look at me."
"I peeked."
"STOP IT!"
"NO!"
"I SAID DON'T LOOK AT ME!"
"I wasn't looking at you. I was looking at the wall."
"No you weren't. You were looking at me."
"I wasn't."
"Well. Don't"
"Ha ha! I just looked at you."
"I said don't look around the cereal box! I put it here because I don't want to look at you while I'm eating."
"Ha! You can't make me!"
"STOP IT!"
"Fine! I don't even want to look at you. Just leave me alone."
"Fine."
(a brief second of silence)
"Ha ha! I just looked at you!"
"STOP IT!!! MMMOOOOOOMMMMMMM!"

a Mother's Confidence

Confidence in being a mother is like a two-legged stool-- it's really easy to fall off! I've been feeling pretty good about how I've been doing lately. It's been refreshing and a relief.

Well, that nice feeling is over! At least temporarily.

Just one simple comment: "I don't know why you (meaning me) get so irritated. It does no one any good." (listen closely and you can hear my confidence level deflating like a stuck balloon....) Followed by: "That's not what I would do. It won't do him any good."

Pop.

Confidence level shot. Now I'm driving and wondering if I'm even the best mom for this kid. And how many years will it take for him to get over being afraid of me? And wouldn't someone else would do a better job? Like nuns in an orphanage? Or by aborigines? Or by a band of wild monkeys?

All of whom, of course, will respond positively to his every need and never get frustrated. Hmmm, where are these people? And how do they feel about vomit and pants-wetting?

I continue driving and continue doubting myself and wonder if my hubby believes I'm screwing up his children. And why is it that I'm so irritated at vomit and pants-wetting? Thus starting a deep delve into my childhood psyche to attempt to remember any specific incident that may have created such anxiety and irritation within me now. Was my mother irritated at vomit and pants-wetting? And if she was why am not having more compassion for my own children instead of inflicting upon them the same trauma? And why have I not sufficiently cleansed myself from all such childhood trauma? Perhaps I could discuss this with my sister-- no, she's likely blocked all of those memories. But what would Dr. Phil say? Or Dr. Laura? Or, heck, even Oprah? It's no good. I'm doomed to perpetuate trauma and fear on my children and guarantee that they will desperately need counseling by the time they leave my house (fleeing from me of course!).

Great.

And to top it all off, Lowe's didn't have what I needed.

Double great.

Crummy mom and no fluorescent bulbs. What a day.




Actually, come to think of it, a fairly normal day in the life of a mom.

Now, several hours later, I'm largely over my trauma and self-doubt. I handled the crisis fairly well, ie: there was no screaming or threatening and only minimal crying. Time to crawl back up on the two-legged stool and try to find my balance.

Until the next time someone pushes me off.

Which is bound to happen. Especially since two of the children return home from school in 20 minutes.

Ah, such is life.

Back to the Grind

Yep, it was back to the routine this morning. Meaning, I took the kids to school wearing my "house pants" and Fun Run shirt. But I did put on shoes & socks. And, because I knew I'd walk my 1st grader to his line, my female support undergarment.

I probably should have brushed my hair, but putting on the bra just wore me out!

I stood in line near the other dressed up, hair done, clothes on, make-up on moms. Lucky them. Hopefully they'll get over it too! This is my 5th year of dropping off kids at school; I've learned how to be okay with my natural beauty state. I'm at peace with it! (hee, hee!)

I am.....

....chicken-less for the first time in over 4 1/2 years.

Just wanted to share that little piece of sorrow in my heart. :o(

O.T.S.B.H.

(TMI Alert-- if you don't want to read about bras, please skip ahead!)

My relationship with the female support necessity called the bra first started as a pre-pre-teen and my grandma and her "Over the Shoulder Boulder Holder." But now as I think about it, I can't recall if she said it or if it was used to refer to her; I'll have do some checking. Anyways, that was my first realization that women need support. Plus it was a funny phrase and we liked to repeat it while laughing.

Little did I know it was the only the beginning and that soon I wouldn't be laughing....

Years later, in one of those defining moments your parents inflict upon you that are traumatic enough to create a lifelong insecurity, my dear mother yelled to me across the panties section at Target: "COME OVER HERE, SARAH, AND LET'S SEE WHAT SIZE BRA YOU NEED! MAYBE AN A CUP!! OR A DOUBLE A!!"

And those psychological wounds were made worse not long after by the junior high punk sitting behind me in gym class who thumped me on the shoulder and said "why you wearin' a bra, you ain't got no #@$%? (insert any number of derogatory terms for ....boobies....) I had a very crass reply (I'm ashamed to admit), and then I ignored him and his laughing buddies. It only further wounded my poor developing chest and delicate self-image (which were about the same size-- very small).

The struggle to find the right size bra continued until several years ago when, while walking through a mall department store, I found a wonderful relief. "Look," I said excitedly to my mom & sister, "they finally made a bra for me!" We all looked to the advertisement for a new product line named Barely There. My life's struggle has been greatly improved ever since. So much easier to shop for bras! :oD

Last Thursday night my little family went to the semi-annual sale at our local Kohl's. I sent my son with my hubby to look at dress shirts and I (not thinking clearly) took my daughter and my toddler to the lingerie department to look for bras. They were on sale! And they had my size! But I had to try them a few. That was an adventure I would fail to adequately describe in words here. Needless to say after a lot of struggle and screaming (not mine) in the dressing room, I found two good bras for 50% off. Happy day! I'm good for the next.... uh, being honest here....year and a half. None of that department store "never wear your bra for more than 24 hours; keep 4 to 6 bras in your drawer; handwash each bra after each & every use; blah, blah, blah." Sorry. I'm just not that classy, I guess.

Anyways, as we walked out of the department, my daughter asked "why do women wear bras that don't fit them?" "What do you mean?" I asked. She pointed to a bra tag with a highly developed woman sporting her cleavage & bra. "Ohhhh," I repled cautiously, "I guess some women just think it's good to show off their chest." Yikes! Next time I'll go alone.

Later in the store, this same daughter spotted a rack of teenie-tiny training bras. "Are these the kind that ______ wears? (her cousin)" I looked at the tags (which were really not that much smaller than my own) and nodded. "Yep. One day you'll wear them too." Her eyes widened and she made a face.

Yep, my girl. One day you too will struggle with OTSBH self-chest-image. What a welcome to womanhood! And you will discover the joys of those fabulous brands which (as my cousin says) "make mountains of out molehills!"

[I'm leaving out chest-reducing bras because that concept so completely escapes my grasp that I cannot begin to expound on it. My apologies.]

We pause momentarily

in our MASSIVE celebration.... I'll pause for a moment from running around the house gleefully celebrating and occasionally rolling back and forth on the floor while laughing hysterically to point out--

THE KIDS ARE GOING BACK TO SCHOOL TODAY!!!


I am up and dressed (it's my requisite one morning a year that I feel it's important to look good; tomorrow I'll go back to showing up at school wearing exercise clothes or my "house pants") and will soon be getting the children up.

I'll cry a bit (I always do!) and then I'll head off with the toddler to run some errands. My kids are actually really, really excited to go back to school. It will be a relief to reestablish a routine after the summer craziness!

WOOT! WOOT!!! YIPPEEEEEE!!!! COWABUNGA DUDE!! (been reading a book with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles in it)

Have a GGGGRRRREEEEEAAAAAATTTTT Day!

Texture! We have Ceiling Texture!

One small step forward for the remodel. Only 400 to go!

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall...

(NOTE: the mirror is really dirty because it's been on the floor in the living room)

Personal Assistant Update

Well, she doesn't shave her face but not her legs and I'm pretty sure she doesn't drag her knuckles on the ground when she walks OR have a belt buckle that's bigger than a dinner plate.

But the hubby says she's got more of a "sister" look.

Hmmm, I guess that will have to do. Sister is fine. Nun would be better, but I'll stick with sister.

Sometimes....

it's just good to throw a hissy fit and be a grouch. And unreasonable and irrational and unkind. And heck, even use a little potty mouth.

The only problem is.....

No one ever sends you to your room.

My Pride & Joy

These are all of my kids books-- picture books, early readers, chapter books, middle readers, young adults. Oh and board books.

I love books! I love buying them. I love reading them to my kids. I love having lots of books around.

uh.... I don't really care for picking them up repeatedly off the floor, but that's the price I have to pay to have a functional kids library.

Working Can Lights

This is a couple of days old. The ceiling fan is gone and the kitchen is just as messy!

Junior High Flashback -- or "What was I thinking?"

Being on Facebook has brought back a lot memories from junior high and high school as I've reconnected with old friends. I've also found, through friends' friends lists, some pics of guys I once, a very, very, very long time ago, had a crush on. And let me tell you-- as a 13 year old, there were many!

One old crush has gone completely bald. I don't know why that amuses me so much, but it does. Another one has developed quite a spare tire. Perhaps my favorite was the boy I had the hugest crush on in junior high. He was oh-so-fine though I never talked to him. He was a year ahead of me and extremely popular. But from afar I admired the shape of his brow and the cut of his figure, the maturity with which he led his life. I envied his Public Image t-shirts, Bugle Boy jeans or board shorts, and Flojos sandals. Man, was he a beautiful sight walking around that campus. And he knew it. Unfortunately, I believe that no one loved & admired him as much he admired himself (but I overlooked it at the time)

Today he is a fine looking middle age man. With wrinkles. And sons of his own. And still the "I'm so handsome" attitude. (and no, I haven't added him as a friend. I don't ever plan to).

But the funniest part is that now I go to church with 14 year old boys.

Eeeewwwwwwwwwwww!!!!! They are such babies! And dorks! Gawk! Handsome? NO! Cute, yes. Like in little boy cute. What was I thinking?!? (insert body shudder).

I guess there's no accounting for taste when you are 12. Thank goodness we all grow up!

Personal Assistant

My hubby is hiring a personal assistant/secretary today to help with his new duties. Seeing as how I used to do that type of work (back before I had a family), I offered some good advice on what to look for:

"Make sure she's over 40, menopausal, and shaves her face as much as you do. Any other skills are a bonus."

Okay, so maybe I'm just a wee bit insecure.... ;o)

repeat after me: "No" "No thank you" "NO!"

For someone who hears the word "no" as often as I do it, it sure is difficult for me to actually use the word myself.

Me: "Do you want a waffle for breakfast?
Toddler: "NO!"

Me: "Do you want to go for a ride in the car?"
Toddler: "NO!"

Me: "Do you want ice cream?"
Toddler: "NO!"

That's his favorite answer. We hear it for everything. In fact, just don't ask him a question. He'll only say "NO!"

So even with all this constant refusal, I still struggle to use it myself.

Church member: "Do you want to help be in charge of a massive talent show program, writing & directing the script, finding actors, and creating costumes? And we have it scheduled for 4 weeks from now?"
Me: "uhh.....uh......(sigh) when do you have it scheduled?"

Telemarketer: "Do you want to preview our trial book "Bugs and their Contribution to the Rise and Fall of Western Civilization as We Know It" for children for 2 weeks along with a free gift of an imitation glass microscope and three free slides of fecal parasites from Columbian and Guatelmalen pig larve?"
Me: "nnnnn...........uh.........ggaaaawwwwwwwwkk......how much was the shipping?"

GAWK!!!

Just say NO, Sarah. Just say NO! No! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!

Or better yet... maybe I'll just not answer the phone.

or the door.

or my emails.

or go to church.

or talk to other people.

Baby steps to "no." Baby steps to "no." Pardon me while I go beat my head against a wall.

(by the way, both examples given above were exaggerations. Sorry, you can't sign up to get your own fecal parasite samples. Sorry! :o) )

It is FINISHED!

No more school shopping. It is done! I have all the socks, pants, shirts, undies, and backpacks necessary to send my little darlings to school next Monday. They will look good. They will have the school supplies they need.

And now it is time for me to recover. To stop clenching my fists, grinding me teeth, rolling my eyes, and feeling full body tremors. Hopefully, within a short amount of time, I will regain my love of shopping and feel the joy again.

Until then.... NO MORE SHOPPING!

Dental Hijinks

Twice a year I have the privilege-- uh, opportunity?-- obligation?-- blessing?-- of having my teeth cleaned by a professional hygienist. And every year I plan a new response to that age-old question:

Are you flossing?

Or one of its variations: how's the flossing going? Been flossing lately? Do you know what flossing is? F-L-O-S-S-I-N-G, comprende?

Usually it all starts when I realize that I have dental appointment coming up, and I start flossing once a day for a week beforehand. (I tell you, two weeks of flossing and they'll never know!!) While I try to shove the minty-waxed thread between each teeth and then split out blood, I think of a new, more clever response to the inevitable question.

My personal favorite: (said in mock seriousness) "I floss every Sunday night whether I need it or not!" But lately I haven't been flossing on Sunday night. I've devoted each and every Sunday night to brushing my dog's teeth. I just can't make room for flossing. You try flossing after using poultry-flavored toothpaste on your dog!

Once I just answered (very matter-of-factly) "No." I said it with such honestly that the hygienist burst out laughing. "Well, at least you're honest," she told me between her snickers.

There's just no reason to squirm in the chair, while trying to ignore that horrible drilling sound from the next station over, and feel guilty. I don't pay them to make me feel guilty about minty-waxed floss! I pay them to do for me what I do for my dog-- make my teeth look good.

Last week's appointment didn't have any humor in it, sadly. The hygienist, while very nice, was also very serious. I didn't have the heart to use a witty reply. "No, I don't floss." But luckily, there wasn't much of a lecture on the overall benefits of flossing for my health, well-being, and contribution to world happiness. She did just simply point out the problems with gum disease.

Let me tell you-- I know about gum disease! I buy gum and my children rifle through my purse or beg me for it until it's gone. Unless I buy the yuckier kinds, and then they don't ask for it, but I'm stuck with it and it stays in my purse until the cracker crumbs at the bottom of my purse work their way into the silver wrappings and I'm stuck with crunchy gum. Yuck!

So I get it. I know it. I choose not to floss anyways. I am not ignorant in my decision. But seeing as how she asked if I used an electric toothbrush (this was a new question! At 7:40 in the morning I could think of no witty retort so I just said "no.") and said my teeth were very clean.

HA! Stick that to flossing!

So I used some floss last night because, really, sometimes it's just exciting to spit lots of blood.

But don't worry, once the small sample of floss they gave me is gone, I won't have to worry about it until January.

School Shopping, part 2

The second day of school shopping. I drove to Park City to go to the outlet malls. The main purpose was to find pants for my oh-so-fussy daughter. The first stop was The Children's Place, and boy, was I happy! Woot! Woot! Only two shirts for the daughter, but hey the rest was too good to pass up!

The second place was Carters. We found three pairs of shorts for the girl. Phew! What a relief. Especially since they were $1.99 each.

The third place was Osh Kosh, and that, dear friends, was the jackpot. After "NO" on dozens of pairs of pants, she finally found some she liked! Hallelujah! We bought 4 pairs. We also got some shirts (buy 1, get 2 free) and some underclothes.

And we were done!

For now. What a relief. Totally worth it to drive that far. I still need shoes for the toddler and a couple more pairs of jeans for the boy (I get those at Target), and then I'm done.

Finished! Done! And I'm not even in full mental meltdown.

But I am hating shopping!

Major Children's Place Score

The Children's Place outlet in Park City was having a HUGE sale. I bought 8 pairs of shorts & 4 shirts all for $2.99 each. Full price was over $104.

I paid $46 (including tax).

Feeling good. My boys will have nice shorts for next summer. Happy day!

Some Life Goals for my Children

As school is starting soon (6 days to be exact), I've been musing about the changes in my children and speed at which they are progressing/developing (though some days they are not growing up fast enough!).

Today I've come up with some life goals for them:

My daughter-- learn to wear a different pair of pants/shorts each day. Changing all forms of clothing daily is essential for acceptance into the larger realm of society.

My son-- lose the "wounded puppy" and "wo is me" expressions. Stop walking around like life is continually kicking you in the shorts and stealing your juice boxes.

My toddler-- stop beating up on children larger than you. Biting, hitting, spitting, pushing, shoving, beaming with a toy hammer are NOT ever socially acceptable forms of interaction.

Ah, I sure hope that in, say, 16 years my children are functional adults that are living (or about to) on their own. Here's to hope!

Part of the Harried Moms Crew

We started school shopping today. I survived.

barely.

The shoes were too big, too loose, too cute, too tight, too brown, too pointy, too weird, too small, too ugly, too hard to put on, too.....

I started to lose my patience and gain a headache. I walked by a lady who said into her cellphone: "I hate shopping for shoes." I almost laughed out loud.

Then we went into the clothing section.

Too big, too small, too pink, too dark, too long, too ugly, too frilly, too weird, too wrong, too funny, too sensitive, too scratchy, too tight, too cute, too....

We had to go home after that.

But wait!! The backpacks!! Right by the register.

Those were easy. They each picked on they liked. The backpacks were half-off. Phew.

Even my toddler got in on it-- "shoe. shoe. shoe." He took off his sandals and threw them on the floor. "shoe. Shoe! SHOE!!" I put on some shoes. He kept them on for 2 minutes then wanted them off. In the clothing department, he just pulled clothes off their hangers, threw down packages of socks, chewed on the hangers, and hit his brother with the shirts.

Not a bad trip, huh?

The problem is-

WE'RE NOT DONE!!! Wah!

We still have to find shorts/pants for my daughter. Where's a wall to beat my head against? She's the most difficult child to shop for in the whole world. EVER. She wears the same pair of shorts repeatedly until I threaten her with death and she takes them off.

(sobbing here). I'd say I want my mommy, but she's just laughing at me. That won't help. Better go get a Pepsi.

Super-sized.

Why YES, my brother was here. How did you know?

He said Hermy was hiring herself out as a tour guide. These were her first two clients.

Tomato Sauce by Can Light

See? Everything looks better with my first can light....

(the sum of yesterday's work: 6 quarts of yummy marinara sauce)

Dear Mom,

Remember when I was a kid/teen and you told me I was just being emotional because I was tired/PMS? And remember how I started bawling harder and told you that I wasn't tired and it wasn't my period and that I actually had those emotions and then held it against you for, oh say, 15 years and even talked about it at length with a counselor once???


you were right



I have a preteen daughter now. I understand; I forgive you; hope you don't hold it against me.


and try not to laugh too hard.

How is it...

...that a 23 pound, 2 foot nothing toddler can successfully terrorize the entire house-- all 2-legged and 4-legged creatures-- within minutes????

Heaven help us until he grows out of this!

The Conspiracy of a Toddler

Get the mom-person to clean up a mess in one area so that you can have unrestrained access to create another mess somewhere else. Once this skill is mastered, you can have free reign in your house to creatively destroy things. Bwu-ha-ha-ha! The power!!

Remodel Update

The can lights are almost in. Here's my brother working on installing them. There will be 8 of them total. I'm so excited!

Updates

I found my "wall" on Facebook and know how to make photo albums now. I'm good for now.

My cousin's baby is doing well, though he did have several very, very close calls with death. I think he should be home by now. Thanks for your thoughts and prayers.

I'm convinced now that Mangy cat is gone from my life. I'm sad. I hope he is well.

I am tired. Falling asleep after midnight and being woken up at 2 am and 6:20 am by a toddler does not a happy mother make. I have a very busy day ahead. And the hubby's headed out on a scout campout today.

I'm just too tired to be creative right now. I don't even feel the least bit funny either! Blah!

Here's to surviving the day......

(grumble, grumble) Facebook-- or where's my wall, friend???

I'm still trying to figure out what the heck I'm doing on Facebook. I get posts on my "wall" but I can't get to the wall. And then I think I can see some posts, but not all posts and all I get is people's "feeds." And then I wonder if I really need a computer to find friends for me.... And who on earth are these people anyways? They are from my junior high years-- except one was the dad of a friend-- weird. I hardly remember them. Do I really want to be their friend? I don't know. This is such a strange, new world and it's creating HUGE amounts of email (25 this morning). So maybe it'll calm down. And maybe I'll get the hang of it. And maybe I won't get sucked into that dreadful vortex where all I do all day is spend time on Facebook. And maybe my parents (who were on there before me) will add me as their friends.

Sigh. What did I get myself into??! ;0D

I'm on Facebook!!

Phew! Finally, I am one of you! I have joined!

And the best part-- they are helping me find friends!!!

How did they know? ;o)

sw.southerlands is my user name. I'm still trying to figure this all out. I know I have a wall-- but I haven't seen it yet. I'll keep looking.

The MOST Wonderful Time of the Year

In honor of school starting in 12 days....

There's something to said for...

making it to one o'clock in the afternoon without showering.

I believe it takes a certain amount of willpower and strength of character. Yep (puffing out chest), I've embraced that elusive "joie de vivre" that allows me to drop off AND pick up my son wearing the same exact unshowered look without batting an eye.

It's this same ability that allowed me just now to calmly take the open Miracle Whip bottle away from the toddler, let him eat the rest of the glob of mayo off his spoon, and walk away laughing so I can finish this blog post.

Yep, we're all about strength and confidence around this place (maybe just a smidge of laziness too). Feel free to join us at any time. Guaranteed not to harm brain cells and there's never any animal testing.

Hmmm.... it's after 1 pm.

Time for lunch.

Toddler's Creed

If I want it, it's mine.

If I give it to you and change
my mind later, it's mine.

If I can take it away from you, it's mine.

If I had it a little while ago, it's mine.

If it's mine, it will never belong to
anyone else, no matter what.

If we are building something together,
all the pieces are mine.

If it looks just like mine, it is mine.

Life with a Toddler

It's been a fair number-- no, the dog does not eat to your sandwich-- of years since I had a toddler in the house and I-- stop biting your brother! Please just leave him alone-- must say that it is especially challenging. My son --the chair stays at the table; it doesn't belong at the counter--came to us just as he --Ouch! That hurts! Please stop!-- graduated from "toddler" to "preschooler" and-- WHOA! Give me the butcher knife now-- so we skipped a lot of these --you already have a cup of juice-- milestones. My toddler--NO! Stop that! Danger!-- keeps me busy. He is an active, --don't stick the fork in the dog's face-- exploring, demanding, funny, happy,-- AH! You can't use the hammer to hit the wall-- frustrating little man. He is --NO! Don't! Will you leave him alone, please???-- quickly growing out of being a baby and-- Don't turn on the microwave, Buddy!-- into a boy. It's amazing how -- leave it there please-- fast time is flying by even though-- no. No. NO! I said NO!-- the days when I do nothing but clean up the --that is not OK; put it back now-- same area that I had just cleaned-- don't dump your juice onto the table!-- for the fifth time that day. I --get out of the fridge and put the mustard back-- just keep reminding myself that time is --NO! Stop biting!-- passing quickly and soon-- NO Hitting! That is NOT OK!-- he'll be off to school. And then his teacher can clean --I cannot carry you right now-- up his messes for aw--No! HOT! Danger!--hile! Until then I am trying to-- that's not your book, go get one of your books, no don't color in the book-- take it one day at a --stay out of the bathroom, please! Leave her alone when she's in there!-- time. One --STOP!!! NO!!!-- day at a time. One day at--GAAAAWWWWWWWKKKKKKK!!!!!-- a time.....

(examples taken from real life around here the past few days)

Musings on Motherhood

This morning I had to get up early (and get dressed!) so I could go to a meeting in downtown SLC. My friend and I were turning over the reigns of the UT Dating Violence Task Force to the two new co-chairs.

I drove into downtown with a bunch of other working parents. I sat outside at a cafe and talked "business." And get this-- I was even wearing makeup! (gasp!) In the past, these opportunities were what made me still feel important as a person. Being able to act and play the part of a real grownup from time to time helped me feel like I hadn't totally surrendered my identity when I became a mother.

Today was so very different. I was there; I shared my information; I enjoyed the early morning and the outdoor seating. But I didn't really want to be there. It was something that had to be done.

I wanted to be home.

I don't want to put on power suits and skillfully-applied makeup any more. Over time I've grown out of that need. So even while there are days when I wish I was the one driving away from the house of screaming/whining/demanding children, those are only moments. I wouldn't trade what I've got for anything else. No position, no prestige, no glory, no important meetings could make me feel as whole as being "the Mom."

I've enjoyed my kids today-- given them little pats on the head, laughed at their silly jokes, bought them a treat at Costco. They ARE tiring! Heaven only knows some days how I make it through all their demands. But they are wonderful. And they are growing up super fast (where did my baby go???)

I am glad to be a mother. This is where my heart belongs. It's where I want to be at this stage in my life, tantrums not withstanding. I hope you too can have those moments of peace.

Drat! my Grand Idea Flopped

I had this great idea to enter my bread into the County Fair this week. Finally! I got around to looking at the website to find out the rules for entering about 5 minutes ago (4:20 pm).

They accepted entries this morning from 9 to 11 am.


I'm out of luck.

Oh well. The bread still tastes good, and everyone still loves it.

Four years ago I entered some pictures in the county fair. I won two ribbons-- first & second prize in their divisions. It was cool. I would have loved to have had "Prize Winning Bread" too.

Maybe next year.......

School Supplies and their Potentially Detrimental Effect on Marital Relations

Me: HOLY COW! Look at this, Honey! 1 cent notebooks!!
Hubby: So? Don't we still have a lot downstairs?
Me: One cent! Limit 3, but only a penny! Awesome!
Hubby: How many notebooks do you need?
Me: Whoa! 10 cent pencils! Ten Cents! Can you believe it? That's awesome too! Limit 3, but still!
Hubby: And do we need any of these?
Me: Crayons! 25 cents! AAAHHH!!! That's so incredible! Even with a limit 3, you can get awesome deals.
Hubby: (faking my excitement) Why don't you go downstairs and "buy" all of the same things from your stash of school supplies? It's even cheaper than a penny!
Me: (making an ugly face) Nnnnn!


I will most likely NOT be going to Office Max today-- even though I have that much change at the bottom of my purse. I think, with a little extra meds and some strong willpower, that I can resist. Plus, after awhile, I get used to the head twitching and body spasms. I should be fine.....

I do not need more school supplies. I do not need more school supplies. I do not need more school supplies. I do not need more school supplies. I do not need more school supplies. I do not need more school supplies. I do not need more school supplies. I do not need more school supplies. I do not need more school supplies. I do not need more school supplies. I do not need more school supplies. I do not need more school supplies. I do not need more school supplies. I do not need more school supplies. I do not need more school supplies. I do not need more school supplies. I do not need more school supplies. I do not need more school supplies. I do not need more school supplies. I do not need more school supplies.

My very first can light

Wow! The 4" can light provides such a nice ambiance. It even makes the dirty dishes in the sink look nicer!

Just think of what six 6 inch can lights will for my dirty floor! Woot! Woot!

Annie the chicken, March 2008 to August 2009

Our family is saddened to announce the passing of Annie, the white, grouchy & mean chicken, Sunday August 9th. After a brief, but terrible, illness, Annie was released from her earthly feathers for a life of greater comfort and ease with more earthworms. While she was never kind or friendly, her presence will still be missed.

Annie is survived by her cage mate, Lady, Sarah, her featherless, tormenting food dispenser, Sarah's featherless animal support staff, a tortoise, two indoor birds, two rats, and a white furry four-legged terrorizing monster. Her burial took place in North Salt Lake the day of her death. In lieu of flowers, please feel free to leave positive comments in the space below or have a moment of appreciation the next time you crack an egg.

The family wishes to especially thank the dear hubby who was kind enough to perform "the deed" and take care of the... uh... "aftermath" of the said "deed," unpleasant though it was. And also to all those who have supported our (read: my) chicken addiction over the past four years, especially our dear neighbors who were kind enough to put up with Annie's raucous clucking.

Funny Cat Pics

Sooo, I was a bit bored. Actually I was just putting up my feet and wanted to have something to laugh at. These worked for me.

The website is fabulous: www.icanhascheezburger.com

One sure sign you have a toddler boy in the house

a Bad Mom moment

It's always a bad mom moment when you have to call Poison Control to inquire about a medicine your toddler ate while you weren't really paying attention.

No harm, no foul. No hospital/doctor.

Just feeling stupid.

It was a tough evening with one groggy, needy boy.

Did I mention I was feeling stupid???

Yeah. Not a proud mom moment here.

Today's Bizarro Comic Strip

Baby Blues: Fantasy versus Reality

I'm sure I'm not the only one who understands the pain with these cartoons!

Frankie's Serenade

Just in case you don't own your own "gray bird of happiness" you can borrow mine.


Note: I played this video and Frankie freaked out. He started flying down the hall looking for the other bird.

Clothing changes are Overrated

Especially before 9 am in the morning!

Among friends, can we just acknowledge that there's nothing truly wrong with wearing the same clothes each and every morning while you drop your child/children off at summer school (and soon to be regular school)? If it's not professionally necessary to be showered, clothed, and made up before 9 am, then why worry?

You see, these clothes are fairly clean (overlook the smudge spots from the grubby toddler fingers please), I wash them weakl--weekly, and they are appropriate for all types of occasions. Let me just take a moment to elaborate this seeing as how my hubby has failed to grasp this concept to date: if I am in bed, they are PJs; if I am in the house, they are house pants; if I am out of the house, they are merely comfortable pants similar to (but better looking than) sweats. They aren't universally pajamas-- they only count as PJs if I'm in bed and sleeping. Aaahh, sleeping.....

Mmmmmmmmm.......

Well, where was I?

So should you see a mother dropping off her child/children in the same clothes she has been for the past week, then please celebrate her self-confidence and efficienct use of morning time and look the other way. Especially if you see the grubby kid marks. And especially if it's me.

Thank you!

My Boys

It's not the best picture of them because I didn't want to use the flash, but they were looking so cute and snuggly. They are about 5 to 6 inches long now (not including their tails).

Ah, I love my pets! They are so much fun! Rats make fabulous pets. Really!

My Morning Serenade

Here's Frankie (a bit camera shy) sitting on my shoulder (his first favorite spot is my head) and singing to me in between pulling out hairs on my neck and head.

Everyone should have a morning serenade like this! He's singing into my ear as I type! It's a fabulous way to start the morning each day.

Not the night for a "Good Participation" award

heh, heh, heh.....

Yoga stunk tonight. Really.

OK, so fine, it was my attitude that stunk. Which was funny because I was in a fine mood before I got there and the teacher/director started talking and I thought "That's the stupidest thing I've heard!" I couldn't stomach the shakra-jumbo tonight. It was all crap to me. [Oops, can I say "crap" here? Ummmm......"garbage."] It was all garbage to me, and I wasn't buying any of it!

Not. In. The. Slightest.

That and the fact that I was next to Yoga Barbie and Hard-Core Yoga Woman. I was sooo ready for the class to be over.

Even chavasana which is normally a favorite part of the class was a chore. My shirt and sports bra were soaked and what bare skin was showing was sticking to my yoga mat and I was trying to lie still and not move since moving shows the teacher that you are NOT relaxing and then the lady next to me started snoring and I had a hard time not snickering and then someone behind me had a colossal body twitch and thumped and I had to try even harder not to laugh.

And then it was time for the class to be over. Hallelujah! Normally I sit there and breathe in the relaxation I feel.

Not. Tonight. In. The. Slightest.

I wiped my sweaty neck and face and started cleaning up. I wanted out of there so bad. SO BAD! I was hot and irritable.

Hmmmm, perhaps I failed to realign my chakra properly! (snickering behind my hand)

The bummer is that I still have 3 punches left on my 5 punch pass.

DRAT!!!

Perhaps it's time for me to play the "My Foot is Hurting" card and I need to not take yoga for awhile. Yoga does aggravate my foot.

And tonight, it aggravated the rest of me too.

What I love about Summer

Last night I made an excellent dinner using things from our garden. It was so tasty! I had to share my sort-of recipe (I don't measure things exactly-- I'm just estimating these amounts).

1 pound ground beef
1 cup of leftover brown rice
1 can of petite diced tomatoes
1/2 cup of freshly sliced zucchini
about 1 to 2 Tablespoons oregano
1 Tablespoon of garlic
1/2 Tablespoon of sugar
salt
pepper
shake-shake of basil

Then I stuffed the mix into three hollowed out garden tomatoes (I put the "guts" in the mixture too!) and two hollowed out green peppers. I dumped the extra mixture on and around the filled veggies. Covered the tomatoes and peppers with plain breadcrumbs.

Baked 425 for 20-ish minutes.

Even my kids liked it.

Today's project is making more apricot puree to make MORE fruit leather. I had made a bunch, but it got eaten. So I picked three bags full of apricots last night and am working on them today.

Have I mentioned that I'll be glad when apricot season is over???

Finito, Good Buddy!

Phew! I got it done. Took three or four or five hours.....



Take my advice: Do NOT use tools around a toddler. Especially a toddler boy.

Fighting over the screwdrivers and hammer were exhausting. Especially when I had to undo some of things I did.

So this is the storage unit for my bathroom. I can just envision a shelf just for my Bath & Body Works lotion. All 17 bottles.

How exciting to finally have storage space!

Translation, please?

I took this box:


And this hardware:

And these instructions:


And I'm trying to make this:


That lovely cabinet on the right side of the picture. That's the goal. I did finish the medicine cabinet. You can see it in the first photo (above right). Now it's on to the bigger project.

I love IKEA. And I'm actually loving their wordless instructions. I can actually understand them instead of wondering what "Insert post A into left post B and turn half a turn to the right; insert screw J into hole 9 and tighten."

Huh?

These I can do! Hallelujah!

I'll post a picture when they're both done and positioned in my bedroom.

Photo Stealing

I stole this from a blog who stole it from another blog! It's too cute! Had to share!