Monday, November 21, 2011

a change in the making, part II

I've had a big fall.  I say that for two reasons. One, I think I've eaten my weight in junk food. I am certain I am going to have to break out the fatty jeans or live in leggings.

I'm kind of okay with this. Food is good, and leggings expand.

Two, I have learned so much about myself.  I have always been so envious of my dad for being so wise.  He has given me tidbits of advice throughout any trials that I have had, and I have always looked at him and wondered how he knew so much. Seriously. I am a hot head, I am impatient, I have prided myself on being "tough", and I have a VERY quick tongue.  The thing that I have learned is that I got a lot of this from him, and the only thing that tames this wild beast is time and experience.

I've learned that there are few things in life to get angry over.  Every day occurances are not worth the sweat off of your brow.  There are big things going on in the world. People who have real problems.  Mine are trivial in comparison.  The kids won't quit crying or fighting? That means I have children- something that I wasn't sure of 5 years ago. And I have TWO.  They are warm, full, and healthy.  The house being a mess? It means that I have a house, and I have a job and a family that keep me from cleaning it.  Social drama? People care enough about me to be angry with me, and I have people in my life that I care enough for to be angry with them.  There are people that have no one to even speak their name.  I cannot imagine that kind of lonliness. 

I am so impatient.  If I am three deep in line at Walmart I lose my mind.  I would never make it in a big town because the traffic in my little ole town makes me MAD.  However, after this fall, I am beginning to look at it differently. This is such an opportunity from God to have quiet time. Its a gift.  Although I am a complete work in progress, I am really trying to appreciate this and take in those small moments.  No moment is a waste of my time. All of it is a gift and meant to be treasured.  If waiting in line is a waste of my time, then that is my fault it was wasted.

Ever since I was little my dad has told me that I have two eyes, two ears, and only ONE mouth. This has always been a hard lesson. Im not observant. I don't listen. I talk WAY too much. There is a line in a "What do I know of Holy"  by Addison Road that struck me and probably changed this part of me. she says " I try to hear from heaven, but I talk the whole time"  This is the story of my life.  I always wondered why I haven't felt that connection with God in so long.  It has a lot to do with the fact that I wouldn't shut my mouth. I wasn't listening for Him.  I don't know how I missed the memo on this one, but I certainly did.  Its pretty essential, folks. And practicing this has changed my life completely. My words to God were also very selfish ones. I was asking for so much, but giving little thanks.  We are blessed, people. So very blessed. Whatever trials and tribulations we endure, we are still unbelievably blessed by our Father. We are so very lucky.

I read something on Pinterest that said the world has enough tough women.  We need mild and compassionate women.  This struck me as odd, because we are told to be strong and independent.  I desire both.  But I don't need to be only tough anymore. I can cry, and its okay.  I can be vulnerable and weak, and its okay.  I can admit my faults, and its okay. I am a strong and independent woman, but I am also human.  I struggle with this one a little- my big brothers raised me to be a tough one.  I think the goal is to strive to be a woman of strength, AND of grace.

I really am just in awe of life sometimes.  I look back 10 years and hardly recognize the woman that I was.  I'm sure this is just the beginning of a long process of evolving- becoming the person that you are intended to be, that God intends for you to be.  I am not regretful of any experience that has had a hand in my evolvement, for they have made me into a person that as of right now, I am pretty proud to be.  I think I'm doing okay navigating the waters lately.  I'm sure that at some point I will encounter something that challenges me and makes me gasp for air and feel like I'm drowning, but that is when I know to have faith, and to stop what I'm doing, and to listen.

Last things last...

One- check your dryer vents. Ours was clogged and caught our dryer on fire. FLAMES. It was caught in time, and I get a new dryer, but still- it could have burned the house down. 

Two- The child is still pulling his poop out of his diaper. Help.


Wednesday, November 16, 2011


so my form of intimacy may be TMI. Proceed with caution.

I'm having an issue with the large kid.  He won't potty train. Doesn't have a care in the world if his diaper is full to the brim and hanging to his ankles.  He just rocks it and keeps playing.  I don't really push it. I'm not one for milestones, or what they are "supposed to be doing"... I don't really care as long as they are clean, full, warm and happy.  I figure he won't throw his graduation cap in the air while wearing pull ups.  This is my hope. who knows. I'm sure its happened before.

The latest though, is that he is pulling out his poop and placing it in strange places.

you heard me.

I have yet to witness this, but my husband and cousin have on occasion, and I have to say, I am disgusted and humored all at the same time. Gives a whole new meaning to the term "toilet humor", doesn't it? So, here are the wonderful places that the poop has been placed.

the garbage disposal. yup- you read that correctly. we have cleaned.
the playroom floors and wall.
the walls at my cousins house

and the most mysterious location is somewhere in the vicinity of the couch.  I say this only because we haven't found it quite yet.  We just know it smells.

Kinda reminds me of when his belly button fell off and we couldn't find it.  Still haven't. Maybe its with the poop.


Thursday, July 7, 2011

The knock off dilemma

So I have a fetish for knock off bags and the like.  I will thoroughly inspect the good inside and out, and I am very picky about what I buy.  Thing is, I have decided, and am convinced, that street vendors and other people selling knock offs are just outlet stores for these hoity toity designers.

But that isn't my dilemma.

I own some authentic goods, and I own some knock off goods. I'm about 99% sure that no one would know which was which without me blurting it out (which I do every time- I am very proud of my bargains.), but at the same time- what is worse? Paying sick amounts of money to carry the real thing, or pretending that what you are carrying is the real thing?

As I get older, I search for authenticity in a lot of places.  In people, in their actions, in my faith- but mostly in myself.  I am not a fan of the person that pretends to be one kind of person, but deep down they are a completely different soul.  I like genuine people.  I admire them. If you are a rude and miserable person, just throw it out there. I would rather deal with a jerk than deal with someone rude yet smiling.  I can't handle fake. I wasn't raised like that, and my face doesn't react well to fake responses.  I will completely look at you like you are insane. My apologies- it's like a reflex.

How do you handle people that are unauthentic?   You can't pack them up and send them back to China like you can bags.  I try to be a nice person, and although I am sporting a crinkled brow, I don't think I offend the offender.  I have heard "kill them with kindness" but that doesn't satisfy me.  I want to shake them and insist that they be real to me and to others.  So to ask again, how do you respond to this?

Hopefully I will wake up to a genius response after a bad nights sleep of having nightmares filled with toddlers and airports.

And, by the way, this comes from no place in particular other than the fact that I just ordered a fake bag, and I have to say- it's darn nifty.


You're Kidding Me!

I don't remember this from my childhood. Could Al Gore be right?! This is insanity. Its too hot to breathe. Swimming pools feel like bathtubs. I may be melting.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

out with the dukan, in with... nothing.

You know, I'm not a big meat eater.  This is something that I should have considered when attacking a protein diet.  What's a girl to do when she loves carbs?!  Right after we got married, I read Skinny Bitch. BAD IDEA for the daughter of a man that raised and butchered cattle.  I called my dad to declare I was a vegetarian. I didn't last on that either. Sometimes a girl just needs a steak.  Grey is not my strong suit in any situation. I'm a black and white kinda girl.

I can't tolerate when people are all about fad diets.  Sadly, I got sucked into this one. I am sure that it works, as I have a friend that is melting away on it, but at the same time, and at the end of the day, there is only one truth- burn more, eat less.

The thing is, when does "burn more" come into play? I have spent the last 2.5 years going to work and then taking care of babies.  I get home, and it is a madhouse until 8pm.  There is no time to work out, so here it is. This is what I may have figured out-  While in the pool today, I strapped my 18 month on to me and swam across the pool maybe 500 times. (I may have exaggerated that a little) That is surely enough to burn of something, right?

Did I mention he was naked? How's that for a redneck adventure. In all seriousness, why can't I work out while spending time with my kids? The thing is, I can do a little something good for me, and fun for them.

I refuse to post anything else about weight or working out.  Well, I may complain, but no more remedies from me. You read it here, folks- burn more, eat less.  I'm a walking hypocrite. But fact is fact.  As my dad says, there is no free lunch.  Take that literally.

Other than that, the boys are truly hilarious each day.  Neither of them listen, and I watch a lifetime's worth of Scooby Doo each day.  Will's favorite is Behlma. (velma) and he screams her name out when she is on.  Last night he said "Run Shaggy! I love you!" I also heard rumors of a Toy Story 4.  God help us all.

Luke is a mess. Smiles all day, and you can't help but smile back at those dimples. He is fiercely independent, and at times I know in 10 short years he's probably going to sneak out and steal my car or burn the house down.  The kid is fearless.

Headed to the beach soon.  The boys first plane ride.  I have bought everything at One Step Ahead related to travel, and have an Amazon box coming each day with distraction toys, bags for car seats, and sunscreen bracelets. I think I'm pretty prepared for the kids, but my husband may kill me before we leave.

I hope you all had an awesome holiday.  We are so lucky to live in a place where we can write whatever we want to write, say whatever we want to say, and do what we want to do.  It's easy to forget that sometimes.


Tuesday, June 21, 2011

dukan diet-day 3

So I have to say, I'm a believer. In 3 days,  I have lost 8lbs.  Again, not saying that is water weight, or whatever.. at the end of the day, 8lbs is 8 lbs, so, screw you.

Today, I even had struggles! I ate a whole package of m&ms, and then I thought it was brilliant to take the boys through Mickey D's for some super nutritional food, and I wanted a salad.

Satan was against me.

I remember the days that my dad would want something that I had, and he would take a bite to make sure it wasn't poison..well, i succumbed.  I ate some fries. (if I'm truly honest, it was like 15) and a bite of nuggets.  the 2nd bite I spit out, so it doesn't count. It wasn't poisonous.  I then decided that it was time for vegetables, so I had some barley and hops. Again, screw you. I know they aren't vegetables, but hey- it's from the ground.

At the end of the day I was down another pound, so I am a believer.

Other than that, I had a girls night tonight, and I decided that the grill that my parents got Will for Christmas (that I was saving until summer-whoops.) was a great idea for entertainment tonight for the kids. I got it out, opened the box, and decided that I HATE LITTLE TIKES. I mean, cmon. Can you put anything together? I have a 2year old and a 1 year old.  I don't have time for stickers.  This is your job.  Meanwhile, your grill that I purchased is sitting on my deck half screwed on, without most the stickers it requires. It created a multitude of problems.


Monday, June 20, 2011

The Dukan Diet

I don't particularly think I need to lose the winter, that is. In the winter, you are covered up with layers, and look fantastic with your cashmere scarf covering your double chin.  I thought I looked okay for having 2 kids in 2 years.

Then I put on a bikini.

For all you haters- no, I do not think I am fat-- that is not what this is about.  I do, however, think that I look a little different than I did when I was a senior in highschool, although I weight the same amount. What is up with this? Will and Luke. That's what. Little punks.  So since I loathe working out, I have decided to lose a little more weight than I was intending.

Kate Middleton inspired American to jump on board with the Dukan diet, and I am a sucker, and I followed. Who doesn't want that body?  Nevermind the fact that she is at least 6 inches taller than me, childless, and a freaking princess....


So I started it.  The first day I was on the pure protein portion I was invited to Los Cabos. FAIL. I will do anything for a bowl of queso and a Corona.

So I started again yesterday. SUCCESS! 5 lbs down the first day. I couldn't believe it either. I am 130% sure that was all water weight, but I am not really complaining. Today I would have killed someone for a snickers, but I drank coffee at 3pm instead, and I have to say that I enjoyed it. My teeth are destined to be brown. It is inevitable.

Tomorrow I am allowed vegetables with my protein.  I think that includes barley and hops as they grow from the ground and are meant to be consumed.  I believe beer is totally natural, so I am adding it to the Cruise phase.  I will refrain from adding a play by play of my progress, but I may remember to tell funny stories about what has happened to me during this challenge.  The odds are against me, that is for sure, but I won the snickers battle, so I can do about anything... except turn down a beer.


Sunday, May 15, 2011

i may be back..

i apologize to anyone that may care about my lack of blogging.  i got burned out, and I ran out of things to talk about.  Which, if you know me, you know that is impossible to imagine.

However, couple of things have happened lately that warrant a post.  One, potty training.  Two, food intake, and Three, the kid sleeps with us.

Before you have kids you think you know how you will do things.  First, my kids were going to eat vegetables.  (ha) Secondly, under no circumstance will the kids sleep with me.

I've failed at both.  Truth be told, I can't remember the last time Will ate something other than pizza or shells and cheese.  I bought Jessica Seinfield's book about hiding the vegetables to find out that if you actually have children, you don't have enough time to puree all this junk.  Really? I leave at 7:30a and return at 5pm.  Vegetable pureeing isn't making it on my short list, or my long one for that matter.

I haven't really jumped all the way into potty training, I just bought underoos because they are so darn cute.  He wears them, and then pee pees on the floor.  I bought him a Scooby Doo potty seat, and he really likes to sit on it and spit in the toilet.  no pee pee in the potty quite yet.  Whatever.  He won't attend Harvard in diapers.

I'm pretty laid back when it comes to parenting.  I'm not into books, charts of the "average kid" or anything like that.  No kid is average, and I think that just puts unnecessary pressure on everyone. My brother was in the same grade with me growing up, and I would always get so frustrated with him because he was effortlessly smart.  My dad always said "he is smart as a whip, but he can't play the piano like you can." Every kid is different, and they do things at their own time, and in their own way.  I'm not going to take the "what your child should be doing now"sheet from the pediatrician's office and treasure it like the Bible.  It's just not my style.

With that being said, I'm not a fan of the kid sleeping with me for 2 reasons:

1) he's up to late for a 2 year old
2) he steals covers

I would be lying if I said that waking up at 2am to him playing with my hair isn't the most precious and wonderful thing in the world.  But him being in there is not doing anyone any favors.  Short of chaining him to his buzz woody bed, I can't figure out how to get him to stay in there.  I know, I know.. consistency.  I mentioned before that I am a busy mom, and walking him back to his bed 13 times in one night isn't my idea of a productive evening.  Plus, I've done it and it hasn't worked.

I have until Labor Day to break him of diapers, mama's bed, and his bee bee.  It will be an eventful summer, and one that will for sure include a few grey hairs.


Friday, March 11, 2011

Boogie woogie

Will has figured out that his little fingers fit perfectly in his little nostrils, AND they just so happen to pull out little boogies. He brings them to me like a dog would bring you a dead possum. 'look mommy!' and he's so proud of himself. It's pretty cute, I'll admit it. I love seeing preK pictures. There is always one kid digging in their nose. I hope Will is that kid.

With that bring said, when does one stop picking their nose? I remember telling my dad as he tucked me in that I was going to ask God to help me to quit picking my nose. I was probably 7 or 8. It didn't work. Fact is, we all have boogers. Where and how you pick your nose is key.

I can only use lent free tissue to blow my nose. Anything else and I will sneeze 1000 times. So sometimes a quick rearrangement of the boogies will suffice. Especially when you feel like one is stabbing you. Those are the worst.

I was at a stoplight today and there was a woman digging in her nostrils. If Emily Post had a rule for nose picking, this woman would have failed. Everyone knows you should pick while driving.

So this is most likely the lesson I am going to teach my offspring. It's okay to pick your boogies. Why isn't it? We all have them. Pick away, my people. Pick away.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

my little lukie

you are one today. I can't believe it. It seems like yesterday when I found out I was having you. We were really surprised, and totally excited. You were such a blessing to us and are teaching us new things every day. You were a surprise in the beginning, and I think that you will constantly be a surprise to us. I am positive that you will be a daily reminder to our family that God is in charge at all times, and not to worry too much because He has it all under control. You are my youngest of our two complete miracles.

You can make any sound with your mouth. You love to mimic. You have the biggest smile, and you are such a lover. You need mama all the time, and demand that I hold you. You will sit on your knees and throw your little arms in the air and smile. Your daddy says I should leave you there, but I can't help myself. I need you just as much -if not more- than you need me. You are a big eater. There isn't a lot of food that you won't try. You are a great sleeper. (finally) And your big brother Will loves you so much and calls you "dookie". He gives you goodnight kisses and hugs and says " i love you dookie" and you giggle. You love him too. Your daddy adores you. I have a feeling you all are going to have a quiet and unspoken bond. You all are a lot alike.

i thank God every day for my two handsome boys. I am excited to live this life with you, and I am in awe of the amount

that I am learning about myself and about what an awesome God we have, and that is because of what you and Will teach me every minute since your births. Thank you for being you. I love you more than life itself. Happy Birthday to my sweet baby.



Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Farewell, chocolate cushiness.

Dear Chocolate Recliner,

I first met you in the store when I was 7 months pregnant with the first baby.  I was huge, and he was camping out in my ribs.  I looked at you and imagined a world full of comfort.  So I took you home.  We spent weeks of bed rest together, with me sleeping on your cushy arms, swollen ankles up high.  I brought a baby home to lay in your midst, and you helped me rock him to sleep.

That baby wasn't very nice to you.  He spit up formula on your arms, and may have suffered the occasional leaky diaper.  But eventually, you all became fast friends and that was the only place he would sleep alone.  We would prop you back and place his sweet head on your cushy arms, and off to dream he would go.

You are not a pretty recliner, no, that wasn't your purpose.  Your chocolate micro fiber cushiness was meant for comfort, not for beauty.  Sunday naps, reading books and watching movies are some of your favorite activities.

After the first baby was over you, I was not.  You had a pregnant partner yet again, and I fell in love with you all over again. Another bed rest, another homecoming with yet another sweet baby infant.

He didn't get along with you very well at first either.  He actually threw up all over you, but we got that pretty blanket there and covered you up.  You were happy.  This one was not that fond of napping in your crevices, but he loved to be rocked to sleep by you.  I even bought a fancy pillow for moments when you are feeling jazzy.  You liked this.

You are going to live somewhere else tomorrow, although I am unsure of what your location will be.  I am saddened by this, but I know we both must move on.  Every relationship has this moment, and I have to let you go.  I have decided to send you off in style with a grouping of pictures that showcase your beauty, and your memories.  Bon Voyage, sweet chocolate cushiness.
your jazzy pillow.

all your crooked beauty

pretty sure this is a booger. 

slobber hand print

um, probably a booger too.

the multitude of loveliness.

ciao, my sweet lovely, chocolate cushiness.  May you have all the happiness at your new home, and maybe when I am old and gray, we will meet again.  Thank you for the help with my babies, and thank you for your wonderful memories.  

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

10 random things

We, like many of you, are bored.  I have been a terrible blogger the last 2 weeks, posting nothing, or rambling about basically nothing.  It has been snowing. There is snow everywhere.  The kids are crazy- the husband hasn't been able to work in almost two weeks and is going bonkers.  Me? Well, I have been a work.  They released us for two days last week, but that ended up being truly torturous.  I loved that time with my babies and I didn't want to go back.

let the randomness begin.

1) I'm watching Idol and wondering if my hair will ever look like JLo's, or if it is starting to get stripper long.

2) I will never have a flat stomach as long as there is ranch dressing and processed cheese.

3) I love shoes but haven't indulged in a while.  My husband will disagree.

4) I thought I could cook until I met my husband.  We had ox tails tonight. They were incredible.

5) I love hearing little kids laugh.

6) There is a solution for every single problem.  There is a cure for cancer, it just hasn't been found quite yet.  There is an answer for everything- some we are supposed to know, some we aren't supposed to know just yet, but that doesn't mean that they don't exist. Be curious.  I am.

7) I paid $30 in shipping for paper plates for the wee one's 1st birthday.  I realize 8 hours later that this was stupid.

8) I wish I weren't as messy as I am.  I desperately want to be an organized person.

9) I go to see my youngest big brother next weekend, and I am so excited. I haven't been to LA since I was a wee kid, and I am ready for warmth and some time with my daddy.

10) Sometimes I think it's funny to make John carry me like he does the kids.  We both usually laugh so hard that I end up crashing to the ground.

That is about it.


Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Snowpacolypse 2011- a recap

I've been at my house since Monday afternoon.  I have eaten my weight in food, and cleaned the house 60 times. I have attempted laundry, but I was over it the minute that I began.  I pondered putting on jeans, but quickly switched for sweats.  I did put on mascara and chap stick.

Last night I took a ride on a rhino and went to a friends house.  She challenged me to a wii game of just dance.  She stomped me.  I'll admit that I am not the best dancer.  I channel my artistic side in other ways, but dancing is not one of them.  I grew up the granddaughter of the best dance teacher in town.  I am the daughter of a ballerina.  I can tap. Thank God that doesn't require much grace.  As I age I realize that my ability to dance must have been passed down through my father's genes.  We have equal dance talent.  My brother, on the other hand, is freaking rico suave on the dance floor.  I'm pretty sure that is how he snagged his hot wife.  Anyway, I lost by thousands of points on both just dance, and Michael Jackson's dance revolution.  I did kick her 7 year old's ass though, and I am okay with bragging about that. I swear the only reason she kept winning is because she is 8 feet tall, and I am 5 feet tall.  I think that makes a huge difference.  That is what I am telling myself.

Today I watched Regis display more signs of dementia when calling Brooke Burke "Brooke Burns" and blaming it on his card.  Poor Reg.  Even if it was a genuine mistake, we will all assume he has old timers just because he is 100 years old.

I then watched Megyn Kelly's coverage on the riots in Cairo.  I feel sorry for those people that aren't directly involved.  They have no money- the ATMs are shut down, and so are banks.  No money=no food.  Makes my heart hurt.  Megyn Kelly is my favorite- I may adore her more than Shep. And I LOVE Shep.

I swear that I will again write something that has some form of substance to it.  As for now, I don't have much to say.  The below picture pretty much describes how the last three days have been, and it screams how I am feeling.  till later...

Monday, January 31, 2011

snowpacalypse 2011

dreaming of a snowy day with power...
Anticipating a snow day is the worst.  Am I going to work? Couldn't tell ya.  Am I leaving my house for the next week? Couldn't tell ya.  Am I going to have electricity when I wake up? I. couldn't. tell. you.

I hate this uncertainty. I hate now knowing what I am doing tomorrow.  I am a planner. I need to know these things.  Should I fill bottles with water just in case? I worked for the freaking Red Cross for crying out loud. You would think I would be prepared, but alas, prepared I am not.  I just kept telling people as they exited their cubes today "See ya Thursday" cause I just have a feeling..... anyway.

So while I am preparing to be unprepared for the "epic snowstorm" (thanks mike collier for that terrifying description), I am being tortured with Orange County Choppers, and Paul Sr's foreclosure, and I am sure basketball will pop up on the screen at some point.   I have canned food. That should suffice.

my big crazy man. he 's so 2 its not even funny.
my personal chef- and full time handsome. 

john gave these to me for christmas in 2005. they are a mess, and I love them with my whole heart.
So tonight I took some pictures.  I don't really have much to say (imagine that) but I do have pictures. The boys are super funny right now. Luke is starting to have a little personality, and Will, well, Will's personality is non freaking stop. He's such a blessing though. They both are. Luke screams and makes pooting noises all the time.  Says mama and dada.  Will is starting to talk more and more, and I am understanding about 40% of what he is trying to say.
my baby- almost 11 months. can't believe it.
Lukie got a walker for Christmas.  We kept a lot of his presents in the garage to break out sporadically when necessary.  Today was necessary.  I bet the little man will be walking in no time. He just rocks this thing all over the house.  He looks like he is about 90.

lukie rockin the walker, looking clueless.

I called a good friend today to talk about her school being closed tomorrow, and she reminded me that school being closed is NOT a good thing.  Not only is school the only place that some kids get to actually eat, but being home with parents causes a super stress that often times leads to abuse.  One day off equals bills not being paid, and being stuck in the house- well, it ends up being really hard on some families.  Please say prayers for these children and for the patience of their parents.  Also, don't forget your neighbors that may be of the elderly nature. (I phrased that well, eh?) They may not have had the ability to go get food and they may not have heat.  Check on them and make sure they are okay. 

Stay safe y'all, and ill leave you with a memorable picture to give you sweet dreams. Ciao.

yes- its a wig.

Monday, January 24, 2011

can i schedule a time to schedule you in?

So I have mentioned that life is crazy being a working mother.  Tonight I had one hour with my kids, and then I had to go to a meeting.  Thank goodness the big one was awake when I got home and I could play with him for a bit before he went down.  Thank goodness he didn't remember that Woody's head had again fallen off and he was on top of the refrigerator "in surgery".

As far as chores go, I got nothing accomplished today.  I take that back, I actually rescheduled 5 appointments for myself and kids because I can't leave work for them like I used to.  Another thank goodness- thank goodness my good friend is the office manager at the pediatricians office.  She has promised that BuzzWoody will be playing upon our arrival, and we were guaranteed the latest appointment. It's hard to take these two anywhere together. The big one is uncontrollable, and the little one wants to crawl.  I find it hard to manage both stages at once. I have the monkey leash for Will (as if) and the sling for Luke.  In a perfect world this will work. I'm sure in my world it will end with me having a monkey tail wrapped around my legs, a baby dangling from a sling, and a knock on the door from child services.

But here I sit, and I can't help but feel like I got nothing accomplished today, and I feel guilty about it.  Laundry is still piled up. The kids clothes, while clean, are still in baskets.  I don't have a clue what I will wear to work tomorrow, partly because I don't know what is clean, and partly because I own only 2 pair of socks, and I'm pretty sure they are both dirty. I imagine I could turn them inside out or wear John's size 12 ones. It has been known to happen. If you tuck the toe in you don't really notice all that much.

My hope for tonight is that I remember to wash my face and set my alarm, and dream of a day when I don't have baby food crusted on my left shoulder, and boogers on my pant legs.

Or maybe it's not.   I think that there is a faint scent of bliss in this stage of life. Maybe that is why everyone says it goes by so fast- we are too busy to just sit back and observe.

My good friend sent me an email about the Bible study I am currently in (and behind on) and it was a blurb from Rick Warren about how to focus your day, and how your quiet time should and can be in the morning.

Rick Warren is a man.  I respect him completely-he is totally inspirational, but he is, in fact, a man. Its like a male OB telling you how labor feels.  Quiet time before the kids get up seems impossible.

My first thought was 'I can totally do this. It will help me get on the treadmill. I can do my Bible study while walking.' light bulb!!!

And then it actually hit me! I missed the whole point. The point is to focus.  How else can we truly get the most out of what we are doing? Whether it's a a short term Bible study or your life, the goal is to focus and appreciate the moment.  That is how you get the most out of it.

 I currently suck at this.


random but totally cute pic of my big baby.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

scrub a dub

Any mom knows that trying to shower when your kids are around is a nightmare.  Now that Will is a little older he looks at me funny and its starting to make me uncomfortable. I don't know what age I need to stop changing in front of him, but I'm guessing that pointing and laughing at my butt is a subtle sign that it's almost that time.

When I need to get ready on the weekends, I lock my kids in my room with me, turn on Nick Jr, and jump in the shower.  This works for the big one.  He goes into a trance as soon as anything animated comes on.  The little one (who is currently pulling at my pants leg screaming) is not phased by the TV.  So I jump in the shower, and he stands at the glass door banging at me and doing that whine/cry thing. I try and speed up my normal 20 minute shower, and it never fails that I forget something.  Lately, I have been noticing that I have dried conditioner in the folds of my ears.

I couldn't handle it today. I grabbed him- stripped him down and took him in with me. He needed a bath anyway, so I thought that he may like it.  Not so much.

He screamed the whole time (no, the water wasn't too hot) and I tried to wash my hair with one hand. Meanwhile, my left arm was about to fall out from trying to hold an extremely slippery baby. It was literally spasming because it had never been exposed to that much exercise.

I don't work out. Well, I have before, and I intend to do it again some day, but I'm not really consistent in the world of physical activity. My workout today was taking the stairs 4 times.

Needless to say, it didn't go well.  I skipped conditioner all together, and I now have a frizzy puff on top of my head.  He is squeaky clean and smelling of lavender and looking adorable as usual. I look like hell.

The next problem I normally have is drying my hair and doing my makeup. It takes almost 30 minutes to dry all of my hair.  There is a ton of it, and I try not to do it that often, but about every other day it has to be done.  Sometimes if I'm lucky, the kids will play on the floor and watch me or TV, but lately this hasn't been the case.  They have been wanting to sit on the counter in front of me and watch themselves, and slobber up my mirror, turn on my faucet, and chew on my somewhat expensive make up brushes.  The big one brushes his teeth with my toothbrush and toothpaste, and is probably over loaded on fluoride. Whatever- its called picking your battles.  You can eat my toothpaste if you leave my mascara alone.

This used to really stress me out.  After all, I try and keep my things in their place, and when the kids and I leave the bathroom it looks like a tornado went through it.  If they aren't in the bathroom, they are in my closet pulling out all  of my shoes.  Thing I don't get is they never ever touch John's stuff. EVER.

So in my quest to lead a more peaceful and stress free life, I am trying to not let this get under my skin.  I've decided I don't need to go back into my bathroom until this evening, and avoid the whole mess.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

a change in the making

Those that know me well know that I will hear a song, fall in love with it, and listen to it a billion times.  "A change in the making" by Addison Road, and a conversation with a friend got me thinking today. 

Why are we obsessed with aging? Why is it so terrible? I know some of you are cursing my 28 year old self under your breath, but I really don't understand what the big deal is.  I don't get it.  I was talking to a college friend the other day, and she is upset about her upcoming 30th birthday. She said that once this happens, she will be 40, and then it won't be long before she is dead. ha!

yeah. she was for real! (sorry I called you out, T) Why are we teaching our children this? It is like complaining all day Sunday about having to go to work on Monday. It's a waste of a perfectly good day.  I've never been one of those people that looks back on high school and college and wishes they could go back. I can't help but think that the most fun is ahead.

 I've admitted that I have no idea what I'm doing in my life, I have totally had my fair share of confusion and struggle. But I'm trying to figure it out day by day- just like everyone else.  I heard on TV today "Age is God's promise that we still have more to offer to the world."  What a wonderful reason.

No matter what age you are, you have a purpose. What an honor! There are always new ways to grow and learn, and to teach and give.  I think about "A letter to my 18 year old self" and I realize that in 10 years, when I am 38, I may have advice to give to a young mother that is balancing a billion things and trying to stay sane.  Kind of like I am now. However, I have no idea what I would say.

Maybe I should start with "don't throw away Will's newborn clothes just yet. You will be pregnant again in 2 seconds."

In all seriousness, and in my very young and naive opinion, age is not something to fear, but a gift.

I hope to be always be growing and evolving, and when I am at a point where I'm not I think I'll be in big trouble.  I am a wiser and more confident woman than I was 3 years ago.  Being a mother and wife has made me stronger in every aspect of my life. However, it is also my biggest challenge.  There are days when I am positive that I am not centered, and I have to take a moment for me and be conscious of where I am, and regroup. The beauty in this is that I learn each time how to do it differently because each situation is different.  I am becoming more efficient at realigning myself to be where I need to be, to be a better person for all those around me and for myself.

I still have moments where I am completely frazzled and clueless, but being present and conscious of those around me and myself (that is the hardest part) is the big lesson I have started to learn in my 20's.

I am not a techy, so I couldn't figure out how to get the clip on this blog- so I have included the link below to a slideshow type thing with the song.  I hope you enjoy it, and I hope that it causes you to explore where you are like it did me.

Click here to listen to "a change in the making" by Addison Road.


Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Dinner Club-January 2011

Some friends and I formed a dinner club after I had the wee one, and we have had such a blast.  Some of our parents were involved in one in the 80's, and they had a ball, so we decided to carry on the tradition.

If you google dinner club, you will see all sorts of insane things that people do.  I have heard of one that only focuses on recipes from Bon Appetit magazine.  I have heard of some that have lovely multiple course dinners with the best of china.  That sounds great and all, but we are mostly working mother's with very young children.  We don't have time for that, AND for it to be fun.  Preparing an eloquent dish while shooing a 10 month old off your leg sounds miserable.  It needed to be casual- very low key.

After discussion, we chose to have the host couple prepare the meat of their choice and a signature drink, and each couple would bring a side and a little something to sip on if they had something particular they liked.  The one idea we stole from another dinner club in town is that each host invites a mystery couple.  It can be anyone of their choosing, and it has been so fun to show up and find out who is there.

We have had many memorable experiences thus far: the queso explosion, the quest for outdoor curtains, the ceiling of twinkle lights, and the tipping of the ladder.  It never fails that someone will be hilarious.

It has been almost a year since our first meeting, and it has been something that I look forward to every month. Here are some memories of our night.

Pioneer Woman Artichoke and Olive Dip and Pioneer Woman Black Eyed Pea Dip. 

Pioneer Woman Mashed Potatoes 

Delicious Beef Stew (not Pioneer Woman...)

Wedge Salad (I couldn't help myself- I had to eat it before I remembered to take a picture.
Now that I am uploading pictures, I am giggling about how almost everything was a PW recipe. It has to be said, everything she does is the best and SO SO easy.  A couple of suggestions for the dips is to add more cayenne to the artichoke and olive dip, and to add more jalapenos and black beans to the black eyed pea dip. They were both delicious.  Another thing I forgot to snap a picture of was the jalapeno corn bread.  It too was divine.  The wedge was a classic wedge with bleu cheese dressing (my favorite salad of all time).  Hint: stew poured lovingly over mashed potatoes is hard to beat. I have been craving it ever since. 

Now on to the important thing. The specialty drink. Our hostess dared to be creative with a blueberry martini. FAIL. Ha! sorry Jen.  I rarely drink liquor, so I thought it was terrible, but alas, my new favorite and the most dangerous drink of all time arrived to save the day. 

The hot and dirty martini.  Or as I call it, the HOT and DIRRTY. This is a serious drink, folks. Be prepared to take the next day to recover.  Now, I am no expert bartender, but here is what I think was in this magical nectar.  Pepper vodka, (who knew, right?) jalapenos, olive juice, olives... I think that was it.  You can tell that I didn't mix this myself. 

She did. Multiple times. They kept creeping up in front of me..
After dinner is a time to hang out with friends and just enjoy a night off from the world and with each other. It was so nice to sit by the fire on this very cold night. Please enjoy some incriminating photos. Fair warning: the pictures are either yellow or dark- depending on what time it was. I may need to stick with the auto setting for evening functions. 

4 pictures and this was the best one. I think our host was permanently confused. 

the ladies of dinner club + mystery lady

no nick- your head isn't yellow and shining. I like this picture. 

the mystery guest and E

Our beautiful hostess, Jennifer
Many thanks to our beautiful hostess (and host) for a wonderful night full of memories, and a wasted Sunday chugging water, eating grease, and vowing to never touch a martini again. (as I sip my hot and dirrty...)


Saturday, January 15, 2011

directionally challenged

so, as part of my blogging I have decided to unleash embarrassing "secrets" about myself. I put that in quotes, because those close to me know these truths, but I thought I would share them with the entire world.

My name is Jordan, and I am directionally challenged.

I suppose you are born with a sense of direction.  Some sort of internal compass that can guide your way when you get lost.  I suppose you could follow the sun, if you knew what direction it rises and sets.  I don't. I made up a jingle about the sun rising and breakfast, but then I couldn't remember if the sun rises with eggs or waffles (east and west).  So, as far as I am concerned, the sun setting just means it gets dark, and the sun rising means I have to go to work.

Story #1: I am 16.  I am going to Wichita to visit my "person" (One of my very best friends) and it is my first really big road trip.  I was a little nervous, and my big brother says "Its a big Shawnee (the main drag in our small town)- just think of it like that and you will be fine. " So, I take off in search of I-35N to embark on my first road trip.  I found it, and thought I was a geographical genius.  Got to Wichita, and arrived at my destination with a little help from my person's dad.  Had a delightful weekend, and it was time to head back to Oklahoma.  Here's the deal- I'm a very literal person.  And while my brother told me to take I-35N to Kansas, he didn't tell me that there was a different way home.  It's a big Shawnee, right? There isn't a Shawnee north and a Shawnee south.  It's just Shawnee. So, I jump in my pathfinder and head home on I-35N.

As I am driving I realize that things don't look familiar.  But, I have my giant book of 600 CDs, and I am rocking out and smoking the occasional cigarette feeling really grown up, so I didn't pay much attention to it.  I keep driving and realize that I see an awful lot of cars from Iowa.  'There must be a game or something' I think to myself... and I keep driving.

Never mind that it was summer, and there probably wasn't a game.

Did I mention I had really blond hair then?

Finally, after almost 4 hours I arrive at a toll booth.  I decided I would ask how far Tulsa was, because I didn't remember it taking this long last time.  I ask, and the sweet toll person said "Tulsa is the other way sweetie.  You are almost in Kansas City."

I called my person.  I did a u-turn at the toll booth, and she answered.  I'm pretty sure I said every curse word in the book, and then I hear her dad DYING LAUGHING.  Yeah- real funny, Lyndy.

4 hours later I arrive in Oklahoma. They still give me hell about it.

Story #2:  I was watching Glenn Beck just now, and he was talking about how the children of China are passing the American kids in school.  They are much smarter than us.  Duh Glenn- that is startling news. (sarcasm implied) Please allow me to reinforce the stereotype of the dumb American.

As children we are taught the map of the United States.  All the states are memorized, as well as their capitals, and you fill in blank maps in school.  This is important information after all.  You should know where you live. I usually did okay for these exercises, although the northeast is still a bit tricky for me.  They are too tiny.

When I was 19, my family went to Hawaii for a vacation.  I was always so interested in Hawaii and I found it fascinating that Hawaii and Alaska were so close to each other and have wildly different climates.  Hawaii is warm and tropical, and Alaska is COLD!

I learned on the flight to Hawaii that it is not directly under the United States.  Also, it is not right next to Alaska.  I blame Rand McNally for this misconception. Put the freaking states where they belong please.

I hope you have enjoyed my honesty.  I am sure it gave you a laugh.  I am really not the blooming idiot I have portrayed myself to be.

I am what I say I am- directionally challenged.


Thursday, January 13, 2011

the birthday of pasta sauce

Ahhh... first love.  When John and I started dating, I was head over heels. Anything he said or did was wonderful, and I thought he was the cats meow. Still do. However, those first love goggles came off about 8 months after we started dating. It was my birthday.

Sometimes I would drive from Stillwater to Norman, spend the weekend at John's with friends, and go back for the school week. We would eat at Othello's, and drink wine, listen to music, and go home. Sometimes we had friends to hang out with, but sometimes we didn't.  That is when I also fell in love with puttanesca sauce. Mmmmm. My mouth waters at the mere thought of it. The subtle hint of anchovy, and the delicious herbs and olives...crushed red's my favorite.

So, for my birthday we invited my dear friend Turie and her boyfriend Cory (now husband) over to run to dinner and have drinks.  We were going to Othello's. I was so excited and wondered what the first birthday present from my new prince would be.  Turie and Cory got there, and I was ready to open my gifts.  I opened Turie's, and then it was time to open John's gift.  I tried to be delicate because I had no idea what could be inside.  I gently removed each piece of tissue paper while I was dying inside with anticipation. DYING. Then I pulled it out.

Pasta Sauce. A jar of it. That was it. Oy.

When I was little, all I wanted every year was a pink Barbie car.  The kind that you actually get in and drive around.  I would come home thinking that it would magically be in my garage, and it never was.  Not saying that I was deprived, cause I was far from it- but man, I wanted that Barbie car.  NOT getting it taught me a valuable lesson though. Be grateful for what you have, hopefully you have most of what you need,  and always leave room for the things that you want. So I didn't grow up with the silver spoon that others have thought was in my mouth. I'd call it a pewter spoon.

With that being said....

Back to pasta sauce. 

Apparently I said "where is the rest?" and Turie laughed, and I am sure that John was mortified.  He said "that is it."  Am I horrible or what?! I still don't understand why he didn't throw a coupon for a home cooked dinner with maybe some dried pasta in there or something... poor kid was clueless.  I mean, pasta sauce? Now that I know him a little better, I get it.  He was being thoughtful in the way that a man knows how and a woman won't ever understand and will always complain about. 


Wednesday, January 12, 2011

A letter to my 18 year old self

I have a babysitter that I adore, and she is leaving me for OU in the fall. I am terribly upset about this, as my children love her.  However, it got me thinking, what would I do over? What did I do right? What would I tell myself if I could go back? So, I decided to write a letter to my 18 year old self. 

Dear 18 year old me,

Your life will change more in the next 10 years than it will for the rest of your life. You will go to college, marry the love of your life, and have those children that you have been dreaming of since you were little.  You will have your heart broken, you will be filled with happiness, and totally confused all at the same time. 

I know that you will listen to me, cause I am really cool like that, and you will want to be like me when you are my age.

It is your senior year, and you probably still unsure about where you are supposed to go to college.  you don't know it, but this choice will determine the rest of your life.  I hate to say that to an 18 year old, but it will.  It will shape you into the person that you are going to be, and give you experiences that are beyond your wildest dreams. Hint- pick orange. Choosing your best friend to be your roommate is not a bad idea.  She is still as close 10 years later, and she will stand by your side on your wedding day. 

Don't eat biscuits and gravy from the Virtual Bean every day.  You will get fat and create bad habits. Go with Jennifer to the gym, and start using wrinkle cream.  QUIT SMOKING. It is disgusting. And no, you won't quit when you have children.  That's a bogus excuse. Don't tan either.  You don't want to trade 5 years of looking great for a lifetime of looking like hell.

You can still be proud of bonging three beers at the same time on Big/Little night.  You still are ten years later.

Napster isn't as great as it sounds. Besides the fact that its stealing, its giving you some awesome viruses on your weak PC. Enron isn't really a great investment idea either, but that's beside the point.

Try and study a little more (school really isn't "free"), and don't drop out of the music program. Screw all those orchestra snobs.  If they want to wear black dresses and play in symphonies forever, let them.  It's okay you don't sing opera, and don't let a snotty blond haired teacher tell you otherwise. 
Write the kind of music you want to write. Stand up for yourself.

Continue to be a good girl like you were taught to be. Boys have bad intentions. Most all of them.  This tall kid will come around in about 4 years and he will be different.  He will take your breath away and make your belly hurt from laughing so hard.  You will decide to share your life with him, and it will be the best decision you will ever make. You will continue to laugh more than you ever thought was normal, and maybe it isn't, but it sure makes life fun.

You know how mom always makes you get the bikinis with the thick sides? Don't yell at her for it.  She's right.  Showing less is way more attractive in any situation. 

Treasure your friends. As you grow up they end up being more like your family. And although girls may be catty, you will find a group of women that you admire and adore, and they will be there for you during some of life's wackier moments. They will be vocal about your strengths, and candid about your weaknesses.  Trust what they say and you just may grow to be a much cooler person than you currently think that you are. 

Listen more than you talk.  After all, you have only one mouth, but 2 ears, and 2 eyes, therefore you should listen and observe twice as much as you speak. This continues to be a problem as you age. 

Be present.  As Sarah Palin says, "there is no dress rehearsal- this is the real deal." And it is.  Be present in your everyday life or moments just may pass you by faster than you can imagine. 

It's a fun ride, and it really is a wonderful time in your life.  Treasure each moment you think that you have no idea what in the world you are doing, cause I've come to the conclusion that no one does no matter how old you are. It's just getting started, and it gets even better. 

Love, J


**if you are wondering why the entire post is highlighted in white, I am too. :)

Monday, January 10, 2011

10 things no one told me about marrying a giant

Our little Florida bungalow. tear. 
So, my 5th anniversary is rapidly approaching. I was thinking about how much we have experienced in these five years, including doubling the size of our family.  I have thought about the three times that we moved and how in each house we have lived in we have experienced major life changes.  In Florida, we were newlyweds, so take what you want from that- its blissful and we wanted to kill each other all at the same time. The first year is an experience I would never take back.  For a woman that has no patience, God definitely instilled some in me during that year.  When you don't live together before marriage (only way to go in my personal belief) you get to know each other all over again, and in a different light. I've learned to put my hairdryer up after every use, and he has learned that if the sheets aren't tucked in just how I like I will make him get out of bed at 3am and help me remake it.  I once had the sheets so tight that he literally broke his toe trying to kick them loose.  I will never live that down.

When we first moved home we fought the fertility battle, and beat it down, and in this last home we have had two remarkable children.  I have heard an incredible amount of unsolicited advice from many people since that diamond has had a presence on my finger, but no one NO ONE could have prepared me for this.

I married a giant. 
I promise my pants were cool when I took this.

I am 5'2, and somewhat petite.  My husband is 6'5, and slender.  One day I actually made him lift me up to his eye level and carry me around the kitchen, and things really do look different.  Really different. Here are my top ten things (in no particular order) that I have found most interesting about my situation so far. 

1) Register for a step stool. And a ladder.

2) You will never have a foot board on your bed.

3) You will never have interchangeable vehicles.  Meaning, I can't drive his truck because I can't see over the steering wheel, and he can't drive my SUV cause his head hits the roof and he looks like big bird.

4) When remodeling a kitchen or building, exclude all upper cabinets.  I have climbed in the sink and accidentally stepped in the garbage disposal. 

5) Photos: I must stand on an object or all pictures include John's whole body, and just my head at the bottom. 
Example- looks like we are same height.  I actually had to rent  a crane to lift me up.

6) Light fixtures cannot hang in the air unless above a table or another object.  Also, watch out for lights over bathroom mirror.  Mine was shattered today when he was changing his shirt. 

7) Old Navy big and tall.  ALWAYS on clearance.  Since you can't buy his length in any store, this comes in handy. 

8) HOWEVER, Gap is terrible for tall men. (But great for petite women)  Shirts are short and wide. So, and XXL hits him at his belt, and our whole family could fit in it. 

9) When you can't find something, its almost always on top of the refrigerator. 

10) Any favor where a tall person is needed he is asked, and no, he doesn't want to play on a basketball team.  Sorry, folks. :) 

That is everything that would have been useful 5 years ago.  When I was little, my family used to make me scale up cabinets like a spider monkey to retrieve items that they couldn't reach.  I also had to crawl under things, and on trips I had to sleep on the floor of the van.  Why? Cause I was small. It was a bugger of the grandest sort. So I can only imagine the annoyance John feels when someone asks him to reach for something or to hang something for him, but he is generally a great sport.  I have also relaxed because I know in a few short years, I will have little spider monkey's of my own that I can send into crevices to retrieve lost items.

And now my mind has drifted to when they can do chores... ahhhh...

Lastly, I am not a huge sports fan.  I love Oklahoma State athletics with my whole heart, but I must admit I have been out of it since having kids.  I have been watching a little more football recently, and it has to be said-- I don't care who wins the national championship, but I think the pretty trophy should go to the best dressed.  Dear Oregon, I would like a football helmet. Coolest. Ever. OSU could for sure make our orange that obnoxious.  Get on it, T Boone.


Sunday, January 9, 2011

Will's First Noel

So, I have been meaning to post this for weeks now, but I kept getting sidetracked with rants about how I will not have a resolution this year and how my child is obsessed with Toy Story. This is a summary of Will's First Noel, perhaps the most memorable Christmas Pageant our church has witnessed in years. Well, maybe just since Will and Jack's daddies were little....

Every two years, our church does a production of the first Christmas. I remember being in this, and I remember what an honor it was to be cast as the angel Gabriel. However, I don't remember being a lamb.  Maybe it is because I was 2. After the first practice, I determined that my child didn't really need to practice (he's a natural star) , so we would just show up the day of the big production.  He is 2, and he is going to do whatever he wants, and he is not going to stand still for anyone, let alone a woman that he doesn't really know.  The day of the big show he was not feeling well, and was very grumpy.  He's a happy child, so I thought that it would pass, and he would put his costume on as soon as he saw cousin Jack participating.  Wrong.
Not happy about white sweatshirt.
So eventually W got dressed but refused to participate.  We sat in the front row thought that once he saw all the kids sitting with their assigned flock, that he would eventually participate.  The show started, and even the presence of cousin Jack wasn't attractive enough to persuade W to join his flock.
laying in the front of the sanctuary debating his debut...
Slowly, W inched his way to the action.  Now, here is where I admit that he was a bit of a distraction, and that I should have been a 'good mother' and retrieved him and left the building. However, I am just a normal mother, and I thought that if he wanted to participate- inch by inch, or whole heartedly- that it was his right to do so.
Finally joining his flock.

The next events can only be described through video.  I'm not yet smart enough to edit this ad I'm not sure it will show up, so if it does you will have to suffer through my family singing (not me singing. I SWEAR) and John's terrible filming skills. 

That was our first noel.  I have a feeling that Will and Jack will crack us up for the rest of our lives. 

To the lady that was behind me and pushed me out of the way to get a picture, shame on you.  To the rest of the audience, either I am sorry that my child and nephew were completely distracting, or your welcome for them making you laugh.  It has been noted to include more shepherds next time.

It is snowing in our small town, and as I type this I am watching Sarah Palin's Alaska ( and jealous of my friend's Julie and Keli, Alaska's newest transplants from OSU) and watching the fire.  I have to admit that I am wearing a maternity sweatshirt and maternity leggings. I am cozy rosy, and I plan on wearing these clothes as long as I want.