A NYE weekend

Not quite sure on how to begin. I can say that there was a little wine consumed, tap dancing with a foam cowboy hat on, trying to ride a mini horse named Goober, stomping on a blow horn, and a trip to the ER.

That's about it!

Kidding. Well, that was kind of a great Cliffs Notes version of our trip.

We posed for pictures in the cowboy hats.


Then we just posed for pictures.


She's going to kill me.

Then, NYE.






We allowed people at 1am to take our picture. They didn't do that great of a job.


That next morning, B and John filled their mugs with questionable coffee and went on a walk and tried to rent a mini horse named Goober. They were informed he was retired. John was sad.


And then they said some really stupid things- none of which I will repeat here, but it went on all day. That's when my cursing resolution went in the pooper.

John then made us black eyed peas, but everything was too little for him to cook on. Must be tough being a giant. Big guy in a little chair.....


All in all, we had a fabulous time. If you all have a free weekend, take the kids (or the adults) to Big Cedar Lodge in Branson. I know Branson has a hokey reputation, but this place is FAR from hokey. It's beautiful, and the staff is incredible- even to a loud redneck group like us.

Oh, and the ER trip? John had an allergic reaction. Still unsure of the culprit. He's fine though. :) at least I know I can navigate a truck through the hills of Missouri without bring able to see over the steering wheel.

Ciao.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

new year, new look

So, since I have decided that I myself am not going to change in appearance in 2011, I thought that I would give my generic blog a face lift.

I hope you enjoy the new look, cause I don't have any pictures or videos to upload at this time.  There are barrels of laundry, and my 5 bags that I packed for my 3 day trip waiting on me.  A girl can only do so much.


have a great night y'all

Dear failure, BRING IT.

I heard Paul Wescott (White House Brief-I heart radio) mention this morning about failed resolutions. He said "I'm a fat guy anyway, so I vow not to gain 40 more lbs! How's that?!"

I'm liking this idea. I have already had chips and a candy bar this morning, and cursed about 10,000 times. I don't like people telling me what to do- even if that person is myself. I rebel, and yell a big 'screw you- I'll do as I please, thank you very much.'

I understand that telling myself to screw off is a little counter productive. But I do much better without the pressure. I quit.

What is your resolution? What are the chances, and be honest, that you will fail? 75%?? Why do we do this to ourselves? Let's better ourselves on April 16. Or the first day of summer. Why is the only time we try and make positive life changing habits, that we do it on the ONE day everyone else is too? Talk about pressure.

And January 1 is so damn cold. I can tell you that I'm 100% not doing any physical activity this evening. Especially outside.

Instead, I'll probably upload pics and tell you all about our ridiculous vacation where I tap danced wearing a oversized foam cowboy hat.

Until later, ciao.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Mommy's weekend out

We are going on a trip. A childless trip.  I used to hate when people would say " I can't wait to have mommy's night out" or "a weekend without kids!!" I never got it. I couldn't understand why people wouldn't want to spend every waking moment with their children.  Of course, that was in the midst of fertility struggles, and I was childless.  I have children now. I'm excited for mommy's big weekend that will be childless.  I love my kids. I do. I think I've mentioned that before. However, there is something about not seeing formula and not having to mix laxative in a sippy cup ever night that has my excitement soaring. Sad, but true. I know people that feel guilty about leaving their children to spend fun time away. I understand this, but at the same time, how can you be a good parent if you don't focus on yourselves once in a while? That is when couples go to dinner and have nothing to talk about but their children. When you have lost the ability to talk to your spouse about anything but poop and bottles, its time to call a sitter. Has the thought crossed any ones mind that maybe your kids don't want to hang out with you all the time? That's food for thought, my friends.

Went to eat with my brother tonight.  He is still home for Christmas, which is odd, cause I was fairly certain he didn't like us that much, but maybe he does after all. Its the Christmas miracle. Anyway, he was talking about my other brothers house, and about how its a perfect party house.  Then it happened. I said something that I NEVER thought I would say. I said "Blake, when you have kids those things aren't as important." Let me just get it out there right now-- I'm ashamed of myself.  Especially because I lied! They are as important. Well, keg stands and jager bombs may have taken a backseat after college, (although I may or may not have done one at one of my best friends weddings a couple years back in a bridesmaids dress...)  but you can still have fun. Maybe I should call him. OR, maybe its good birth control.  We wouldn't want little ones running around LA fatherless.

So, I'm packed and ready.  I think I took 15 things on hangers, 3 bags, and 6 pairs of shoes. For four days. I am kind of exited. I told John earlier that I don't want to hear it. I'm aware of the ridiculousness of my packing.  I'm a girl, and he wouldn't want me to wear sweats all weekend. I can plan out my outfits, but then what if I don't feel like wearing it that day? That would be devastating to say the least.  It's all about options, baby.

Oh, and I figured out a resolution. I am going to try to quit cursing, dammit.  I'm reminded of a scene in The Divine Secrets of the Ya Ya Sisterhood where Vivi is out in her yard with sparklers around her and praying to whomever she is praying to with her arms in the air, silk nightgown swaying in the southern wind. She swears if she gets this one wish she will quit drinking....well, maybe one...two a night.  And she swears she will only smoke once....twice a night. My grandfather used to say that people that curse weren't smart enough to figure out anything else to say. 

Apparently he never heard the F word.

I doubt our quaint accommodations have wifi, so I'm afraid I'll be out for a couple of days. Here is to mommy's big weekend out, breaking out the black eyeliner, and throwing on a pretty dress. Hope each of you bring in the new year with loved ones around you, and with a toast to a healthy year full of promise.

cheers.

My little pumpkins and failed resolution

John William: He's energetic, hilarious, and constantly moving. He is a constant reminder of our multitude of blessings, and continues to dazzle us everyday with his budding personality. He loves Buzz and Woody, beebee's, his bottle, and his brother. He won't eat a thing besides dairy, Capri suns and goldfish crackers. He calls his brother "dookie" and will lay all his weight on him in attempt to show his love. This is not Luke's favorite thing. He's a dancer, and sings twinkle twinkle better than I ever could. He's my first baby, my first miracle.



Luke Coburn: My second miracle, and just as miraculous as Will. He is the one that reminds us that God is in charge, not us. He crawls anywhere his brother is, and hates to be over-loved by Will. (aka, laid on). He hates baby food but can eat fried chicken, and will smile if you look at him just a little bit silly. He is a lover, and would rather take little breaks from playing to come get some lovin from John and I.


Those are my little pumpkins. Such repetitive and selfless blessings, and the most wonderful teachers I've ever had. I'm learning more and more everyday about my strengths, and on bad days, my weaknesses. While I'm sure I will screw up at some point, I'm thinking that we just might make it through this with our sanity in tact.


Lastly, I am remembering something I posted a couple if weeks ago about my need to filter. It may have mentioned something about that being a resolution. Sike. Not happening. I have too much to say, and I've decided it's not a bad thing. Watch your ears, here's to a 2011 full of completely offensive material on child rearing.


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The Great Juice Cleanse

Ok, so I have mentioned that I was thinking of doing a juice cleanse.  It all started one night while John and I were watching the most informative of news shows, E! News.  They mentioned a juice cleanse and how it rids your body of toxins, etc. SO, we thought it was a brilliant idea for me. Don't ask me why. I have a couple pounds I am ready to say goodbye to, and it wouldn't bother me to clean my liver after all the holiday gatherings.  I googled the cleanse they mentioned, and it was going to cost about $300 for 3 days. Being the thrifty shopper that I am, I settled on a lesser known brand that promised the same results, and a decent taste.  I ordered, took up unnecessary amount of room in my fridge, and vowed to start it in the midst of the holiday season. That was a stupid plan.

I talked a friend into doing this with me. I'll leave her nameless, because I plan on making a lot of fun of her in the next few days.  We started this cleanse today. Well, she started this cleanse today.  I packed my juice up in my lunch pail, had great intentions, and abnormally high willpower.  I drank the first bottle thinking "I can do this! This is nothing!"

Wrong. 

See, when you talk about toxins, and ridding yourself of them, I assumed I knew how that took place. As it turns out, I did not know. At all.  I sat in my little cubicle, drinking my juice and my water and WHAM! the great hangover began.  I have never had a hangover like this, but its exactly what it felt like.  That, or the worst stomach flu of all time.   Sweats, dizziness, chills, and the most overwhelming nausea that I have ever experienced.  It was miserable.  So what did I do? I went to my favorite lunch spot and I chowed on roast beef, mashed potatoes and gravy, and green beans and a gigantic diet coke.

It was divine.

That was the end of my juice cleanse. My friend is trudging through like a champ, but did not have the same symptoms that I experienced.  I doubt she could continue if that were the case. I know she is starving, and I have the deepest sympathy for her husband and children. I think at the end of the day I actually gained weight.  I'm okay with it as long as I never have to eat or drink anything lemon flavored for the rest of my life. 

I deserve a cocktail.



  

The Baby Book Bonanza

My kids don't have them. Well, they do, they are just in a Tupperware, and not a book.  I love my kids, I do, and I vowed to be better at this than my mother was.

You see, I got my baby books when I was 20. No, that isn't when she handed them to me in this coming of age ritual, that's when she did them. I won't even get into how there are pictures me with a report card that says "Jordan- 1985" when I was clearly in grade school, not preschool, but whatever... I'm clearly scarred from it.

So, I guess I need to do my kids books. What I have decided to do is do one book per season until they reach grade school, and then make 1 book a year after that. I can order 3 copies of the same book- one for me, one for each of them. Right? Surely there isn't a flaw in this plan. They will only be a year apart in school, so I think its logical. 

OMG- just explaining it stressed me out.

I have kind of started, but then the online program I use pisses me off, and I have to delete and start over.  And it's not that I don't take the pictures. I have like 10,000 on my computer. Literally. I took a photography class, for pete's sake. So they are there, and they are kind of good. They are just not in a book... 

I'm not a scrapbooker. I envy those who are, and those who write down when the first tooth came in, yada yada, but I don't do that. I buy all the calendars and crap to document it, but I don't ever do it.  I used to guilt myself , but I am over it.  My kids won't care when their teeth came in, or when they got what shot, cause who cares about that???  (Really, if you do, send me a message. I need to know and understand why.) Whatever. I know half of you are thinking the same thing and are scared you will look like a bad momma for not caring.  So here it is, OFFICIALLY:

My name is Jordan, and I do not have my kids baby books done, nor do I have immediate plans for completion of said baby books.  

There. it's out. Don't be scared anymore. 

So, I will continue to throw all their keepsakes in a giant Tupperware, where I am bound to mix them up, and hopefully it doesn't throw them into therapy later. 

I've lived a joyous and blessed life, and I feel like I have a great sense of identity, all without my pediatric shot records.

have a wonderful holiday and be nice to each other.

ciao.