Bone to pick...

I've said it before and I'll say it again. Dora, I am beginning to think you don't listen to me. I commended you for performing and putting on such a wonderful and educating show, however, I have already asked you to pipe down. For instance, when Benny the Cow has the hiccups and is running around yelling "Hiiiiii cccuuupppp, ohhhhhh", it is in no way, shape or form an invitation for you to tell MY KIDS to "YELL" while counting to 10. Not to mention, counting 1, 2 3....and so on isn't going to get rid of these said hiccups. Perhaps the real problem is that you're talking to a cow in the first place? I'll move past that for a minute to again address this issue that I have with yelling. My children already cannot distinguish between inside vs. outside voice, so when you come into my house telling them to yell the numbers 1 through 10 to help Benny the Cow get rid of these hiccups, you are really, well, ticking me off. How is this appropriate? When you get home, will your mother approve of this yelling in her house? I think not. So if you want to continue to yell things at your supposed friends, who are cows and a weird monkey in boots, then so be it, but let's leave my children out of it por favor. Comprende? I also would like to take this moment to address the real issue at hand because let's face it, it seems that you just have a lack of parenting here. We very rarely see your parents. Perhaps they work, perhaps they are at home making a good home cooked meal, point is, they have not taught you well. Sure, you can count and you can get through the rainbow forest to the magic mountain only navigating with "Map" while singing a pretty little diddy for your Map friend, but honestly, I think it's time to go home and spend some quality time with good ole Mommy and Poppy. Perhaps then you would know the following:
1) you need not befriend random animals
2) these journey's your going on are unsafe for someone your age
3) again you're yelling and teaching others that this is in fact "okay"

I don't mean to come down on you and sound so harsh, after all, my girls aren't perfect, but I sure as heck don't let them yell as much as you do. And for what its worth, I bet cows don't really get the hiccups. So grab your map and your magic backpack and head on home. Dinners on the table.

Misconceptions about Easter...

I realize it is my duty, along with the Church, to teach our children about Easter and God. However, there are a few things that were taught correctly, yet translated, well, a little bit like this.....

Me - Rylee, do you know the meaning of Easter?
R - Yeah, Easter bunnies and candy!
Me - Nope, do you remember what Christmas is?
R - Yes, Jesus was born.
Me - YES! Well, he died and on Easter he came back!!
R - Yeah, he died from those Kidney Stones!

Let me make note that I did correct this one. But her translation was that since they stoned him, and Daddy had kidney stones....it's all the same, right? Another time, another day....

R - Did you know Jesus is going to rise again?
Me - Yes! I sure do!
R - Yep! He'll be at Church on Sunday! I can't wait to see and meet him!

Again, I explained that while it would be great to in fact meet the man, I don't quite think we will see him as we see each other. Although I sure do have some questions....Jesus, if you're reading this, you can call me at 923....well, you probably have my digits.

Our Easter was certainly fun, entertaining and good! Sophia ate four eggs of jelly beans and "beans" (aka M&M's) before the hour of 8 am. I entered their room to find her sitting in bed, with the basket, screaming about what the Easter bunny brought her while chewing M&M's and with a chocolate smile....gotta love it. Rylee of course stole all of the Easter eggs that the "Easter bunny" left for them. In true older sister fashion of course. Ahhh "holidays"....creating memories to talk about at the Thanksgiving dinner table for years to come......

Our very own Picaso...

My morning came late today. But that's okay because I showered last night to meet my Mom to Mom group for a "late" dinner. I say late because, let's face it, we eat with the elderly. Or at least at the same time they do. I don't mean to say we have groups of elderly come to our house for dinner, but we eat at the same time my Grandparents do. Some of my friends think this is such an odd practice, but hey, when you're used to eating at 5:30 and one day you eat "late" your stomach will let you know "I'm here and I'm not happy with you". Wow, little sidetracking. Back on target. So I woke up at 7:45 thinking oh.my.stars I'm going to be late and today is "Easter" day at school! I had to get the girls fed, dressed and in the car in t-minus 45. No bueno. I start my rushing around, and again remembering that I showered the night before so I can pull off the just-got-dressed-today-no-bathing look. As soon as I am up to brush my teeth The Instigator comes in bursting into tears about how "sissy took her pen and put it in my hair and pulled my hair!" Now, one can only wonder at this point, how did this happen? Well, let me fill you in. They got new pads and pens yesterday at Office Max. You know, the type of purchase that is the "YES YOU CAN HAVE IT JUST BEHAVE!" All day yesterday they used their colored gel pens to color and draw me pretty pictures and pictures for a friend who just had a baby. Sweet, right? All fine and dandy until the pens miraculously made their way into their bedroom. As I walk in, fearing what I might find and assessing the damage, I find that Sophia's white sheets have been "decorated" with the pink gel pen. I counted to 3, or maybe 10, and decided at this moment, it wasn't worth it to change. However, I did have a lecture ready. I told the Instigator it was her fault for allowing these pens into the room soley for sleeping purposes and I informed the Silent Assasin who was in rare form that it was her fault for coloring somewhere besides on paper only. After all, we have discussed where pens, markers, crayons or any other form of ink belong. PAPER ONLY. Surely this was a slip, surely my girls know better than to paint a masterpiece on their beds? One could only hope, right? So as I'm lecturing they both quickly get into their respective beds and hide under the covers. The scene of the crime. At least I can say that in reading this, I have found humor in it, and perhaps I should take a picture of it to share later, you know, to go along with the sheets of stickers that I found stuck to the wall when Rylee was about this age......good fun!

Save the drama for your mama....

Oh how I'm shocked at how girl drama has already started. Two girls = great fun, three girls = catty drama. I realize I cannot be a helicopter parent, nor would I ever want to be. Typically my motto is "let them work it out", but seeing the sad little face of a little one with hurt feelings kills me. I hate thinking about next year. This Kindergarten stuff is really hitting me. She's going off into the world of public school, or school period (not her sheltered Christian Preschool) and no longer in my safe bubble. I am now entering into a world of catty-ness for the next, oh, 15 years?!?! Yuck yuck yuck. I don't recall it starting with me until I was probably 9 or 10. Of course, now they start dating at that age right!!?!?! My how things change. And my how things look so different being the parent and not the kid. I'd like to wrap them up in my bubble and keep them safe forever. Ho hum. I can only hope that I have equipped her with the right skills to walk away and be strong enough to deal with, well, life. You know what I mean girls, we're still in this catty "phase" and from what I'm told by older women, it doesn't get much better. Terrible. I used to do a thought of the day (TOTD) and I believe now I will start a prayer of the day (POTD). So here goes it.....

POTD:
Matthew 5:44-45
But I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.

More comedy hour with Rylee D.

Oh the questions she asks. Where does she get them? Better yet, how do I answer them? I swear, I thought my mom was a freakin' genius. No way that woman knew all the answers....now I know, she may not have, she just answered. And I'm just sayin' that I still ask her these questions, nearly 32 years later, I'm still full of "what if's".....Here goes it:

1) Why do you have hair under your armpits? (for the record, I don't, it was more like a 5 o'clock shadow at the end of the day), but this always makes for good fun when she's singing a song about "Mommy has armpit hair" while you're on the phone with someone. Good thing it was a good friend, but mid sentence it was "WHAT did she just say?"

2) What if you ate 100 dinners? You would get a Faaaaaaat tummy like _______" - Real life names have been blanked out to protect those we love. And want to continue loving. Or want to continue to love us at least. Sheesh I hope that question was only for my ears!

3) Do boys sometimes wear girls underwear? - Obviously my answer was, no, boys wear underwear, girls wear panties. I think the talk about transsexuals is probably a bit too early. ;) Then again, she often takes her shirt off at night with her jammie pants because she wants to "sleep like Daddy".....

This child. Oy. My Mom has said it many times, and I agree, I'm in T-R-O-U-B-L-E!

More talks with an almost 5 year old....

Scene:
In the car.

Characters:
Mommy & Rylee, by-stander, Sophia

Time Period:
After school on the way home.

Scene 1, Take 1:

Rylee:
I need to go get a baby bra.

Mommy:
*Laughing* A WHAT?

Rylee:
A Baby BRA! You get them from HEB.

Mommy:
Uh huh......

Rylee:
Yeah they're little for little people like me and you can get them from HEB. They cover you up under your shirt and you don't show cousins, friends, teachers....

Mommy:
*Really tuning in*....uh huh, a bra, so who told you about this bra?

Rylee:
_______ at school, she has one. She wears it under her shirt so that nobody can see her boobies, that's what they're for. But since I'm little I need a baby bra and you can get them from HEB, so, can we go there and get one?

Mommy:
*Hysterical*....sure sweetie, we'll look next time we go.

Holy mother of goats these are Pre-k'ers! What's in store for me in Kinder? Tampons? Maybe I'll homeschool..... ;)

Ode to Monday.

So far today.....

1) I woke up to powder sugared donuts everywhere. I position foods, snacks, drink, etc to where the girls can get them. I'm starting to rethink this move. I came into the kitchen to find a shirtless, soggy diaper, powdered sugared mouth toddler crumbling up the donuts and throwing them on the floor. Then the child looks at me as if I'm stupid and says "sissy did it".....let it be known that "sissy" was no where to be found, so her blatant lie did no good.

2) As I walk around to assess the damage of these two roaming the house alone, I discover a brown substance on the stairs. I bend down and Holy Monkey it's poop. I grab a nearby wipe and go to town. No dice, this one requires Oxy Clean. Apparently after destroying the playroom upstairs and ditching their shirts, the diaper shirtless wonder pooped then scooted down each step leaving behind a trail. You know, similar to that of a dog scooting on the carpet. Good fun. It wasn't even 8:30.

3) We left the house, ran some errands, squeezed in some me time at the gym and headed home for lunch. I leave the scene of the breakfast crime long enough to walk in my room and back to discover Sophia dumping her entire box of goldfish in my slipper. IN MY SLIPPER! What is that about?!?!!? She goes to eat one and I catch her mid act. I toss the goldfish, clean out my slipper and attempt to lecture about how we don't eat goldfish out of slippers until I realize what I'm saying...."we don't eat goldfish out of slippers"?!??! Why do I even have to put those words into a sentence?

4) I get lunch ready, unload some dishes and by 2 pm attempt to make myself some lunch. As I'm opening my can of black beans, the black psycho racist cat we have comes running. (really, she's whacko) Then I hear the moan. You know the moan no animal naturally lets out unless something is terribly wrong? I know this one too well though. Did I also mention the cat is bulimic? She decided today was a good day to go up to the destroyed playroom and proceed to eat the fake grass skirt brought back from Hawaii for Rylee as a dress up set, come downstairs, let her presence be known and vomit up green stringy skirt goo. Not once, but twice.

I wonder what else today has in store for me......man, it's only Monday! I was given a violent thrust back to reality and hearing faint voices saying "vacation, pssshh, welcome back".

When to move on?

It's been three weeks. Three weeks since surgery and three weeks since we lost our baby. And somehow that feels like a lifetime ago. I am trying to get back into a "normal" routine of working out, running, church, etc. Definitely not easy. Most days I'd rather sit at home and sleep. But I don't. Especially with these two crazy cats! I found myself talking to a friend yesterday at the gym and starting to cry. I felt pretty silly crying in the gym, so she made a joke (as all good friends should) and helped me stop before I really got going. But I also left thinking, sheesh Alison pull yourself together! So my question of the day, to send out into the void is when am I supposed to move on? Although another friend said it well "you're not moving on, you're moving forward". And again, this was an early loss, but our second, so I'm having trouble "moving forward". I was told to keep writing, to help my feelings at least get off my chest and somewhere else. It does help. But I also read other blogs or stories and man do I feel like a big baby. Surely I should be stronger than this. Hey, I guess at least I have the worlds funniest two girls to keep me smiling. One who tells me today that she has a date to the new Diary of a Wimpy Kid movie (at least she's no longer calling it the Diarrhea Kid) and one who calls M&M's "beans"....they give me the best stuff to write in their baby books!

Privacy, what's that?

What is it about the bathroom or shower that screams "kids, come in here"? Hi, I'm Alison and I haven't peed alone in nearly 5 years. What's a girl gotta do to get some privacy? We have had talks about it, I have locked doors, I have screamed and yelled, but do I get 5 minutes to shave or a short 30 second trip to go to the bathroom? Not without kids I don't. What was I thinking. I really didn't even notice how much of any issue this was until my girls spent the night at my Brother's house one time. My Sister-in-law pointed out how she was trailed into the bathroom and flat out said "I don't need help" and around they turned and walked out. What the. Seriously, I have said that! I just want some "pee peace". It's a new word. Spread it around. I'm quite sure there are a lot of other Mom's who would love some. And don't even get me started on shower time. We have a glass shower. There is absolutely no privacy. I shut the doors and go as quickly as possible, but about the time I'm applying the conditioner, I hear them opening. And then shut, then open, then shut, then open.....Sophia thinks French doors are fun! How can a hot bath ever be relaxing to that sound? *open, shut, open, shut, open......STOP IT!!!!!!!! I, again, should say that I'm thankful to have these little disturbances, but gone are the days when I could do anything in peace. I mean, I thought that when I had my last child (or so I thought would be my last) that I'd only have to be violated once a year, you know, at that fun Dr. all women love to visit annually. But no, just have yourself some children and you throw that right, right out the window. And let me also note that it seems to get worse once they start with playdates. Last week I oh so naively thought that because there was a friend over that I'd be able to sneak away to have that pee peace I so desperately long for, boy was I wrong. Instead what happened was I hear the little voices getting closer and closer. I open the door and bam, little faces, including that of "the friend" who was over. YIKES! I need a door sign that is age appropriate and means, "turn yourself around and go back to where you came from" when they hit the doorway!

Sometimes, you just can't.....

There are some things you just have to deal with in life. Today, aside from the frigid temps, it was a poopy diaper. Well, let me say that this is an everyday occurrence. Sometimes I am lucky enough to not deal with it, you know, on Tuesday/Thursday's when my precious pamper wearing sweet girl goes to the Church preschool. Those are good days. I mean, of course I miss her, but a non-poop day is a good one. After recent events, I also have to insert that I am thankful, in an odd way, that I do have poop days. That means I have a precious little pooper and some don't get that special little treat. However, today, was an extraordinary poop day. I'm sitting at the computer stalking Facebook,er I mean, researching and being productive, and "holy mother of goats what is that smell?" Really I don't have to ask, but I tried to ignore it for a while. After about 5 minutes, it permeated the room. Again, I try to ignore it and continue on with my "research". Finally, the Instigator says to her "sissy, YOU STINK!" About this time the phone is ringing. Of course, because everyone should have to endure that rancid smell while on the phone. My theory, you called my house during this whole thing, you should have to suffer via phone wires right along with me. It's my Mom, she sure as heck is going to hear about this one. Since I just went through surgery, I still cannot lift this little diaper wearing gal, so I get the wipes, the diaper and I set up shop back at the scene of the crime. After all, why let the smell ruin another room in the house. We can always move. I unzip the footed jammies, I carefully open the diaper and my sweet word it's worse than I thought. This will be one day that I can honestly say I'm thankful I'm not pregnant because I surely would have lost my breakfast. I take care of the sewage in her pants, properly dispose of it, let my Mom know it's one of the worst diapers known to man and wrap it up. Perhaps in this 17 degree ridiculous-ness, we'll work on potty training. Nobody should have to discover a diaper like that one, let alone have to be responsible for it. Nobody.

Goodbye Sweet Angel

It's been a while, but then again, we have not exactly had a "normal" schedule around here. I am posting to get my feelings out. Somewhere, somehow, I need to vent. I am sitting here typing from bed as I rest and heal physically from a surgery and emotionally from a loss. We lost another baby. And although it was early on, it still hurts, again. I'm at loss for why we would have to endure this pain again, but I know that He has bigger plans for us. This pregnancy was a surprise baby #3. The pregnancy was a rough start and I had a feeling from the beginning that something wasn't right. The same feeling I had with our other loss. I wished I didn't have that feeling, but I did. Things seemed to turn around after several rounds of bloodwork, so we got excited and told our daughters. They were ecstatic. We even filmed their reaction. We should have waited, but wanted to share our excitement. Monday I had a routine ultrasound, which turned into a necessary one after days of pain and some other issues. Once we got to the Doctor and they told me my blood results from the previous week, I knew something was wrong. I didn't even have to see the ultrasound. There was no baby, or at least not in the right spot. We found out it was ectopic. My heart sank. This baby, who was a surprise, and so wanted, was being taken away from us. Why would we be handed a blessing only to have it taken away? I'll never understand. I know others have been through this, and close friends who have endured worse pain than an early loss like this, but it doesn't make it less real. It was a baby. Our baby. And it's gone to heaven to be with our other angel baby. Tuesday I went through surgery. I have three incisions much bigger than I thought they would be. I'm physically healing, but emotionally I'm a wreck. I'm so grateful for the two beautiful daughters that we have. I know so many people aren't even blessed with that. I have hugged them more tightly than ever. But my heart truly is broken. I know in time it will heal, but I feel that I will always feel a little incomplete. We have sent two babies to heaven and I so longed to just meet them. One day I will. Our oldest daughter said the baby went to heaven to see the cat that passed away years ago. Such a sweet little heart she has. I don't post this for sympathy, just to get it off my chest. I will come out stronger in the end, but my heart does ache. Maybe God will bless us again, maybe He won't. Until then, I just pray and send my two angels all my love.

Twas the Night Before Christmas....

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Every creature was stirring, including a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
But only lumped coal will be found in there.

The children refuse to stay in their beds,
And visions of candy float through their heads.
Dad’s still at work and the baby’s in my lap,
But what I long is to take a long nap.

With all of these cookies I seem to be fatter,
But honestly, really, does it even matter?
Away to the kitchen, I fly like a flash,
To put all these cookies and sweets in the trash!

The moon is so bright and I am still hot,
For it’s 80 degrees, believe it or not.
When all of the sudden it hits me real fast,
They need to sleep, how long will they last?

With so little time and so much to do,
I’m in need of coffee to make me feel new.
Dad is now home so let us begin,
We both have a task, but who will win?

The doll house will surely be finished first,
The tricycle direction’s in German, the worst!
I sit and I laugh as the tools going flying,
Probably not nice, I would be crying.

Why can’t there really be a fat man in red,
To put this together then I’d be in bed.
But oh we continue to hammer and screw,
The trike for the child who is only two.

The kids are asleep all snuggled and warm,
We need to regroup, we need to brainstorm.
For how will we finish these daunting toy tasks,
Perhaps in my coffee the stuff from the flasks.

We’re now on a roll and moving along,
Thought it’d be easy and boy was I was wrong.
Why do we torture ourselves on this night,
Staying up late and into daylight.

If we’d just stayed ahead and started last week,
Perhaps we would already be fast asleep.
But what fun would that be, to be all caught up,
I much prefer running around and amuck.

As I pull out the cookies, oreos no less,
Which actually is easier and causes no stress,
I think to myself my parents did this?
I guess I enjoyed my ignorant bliss.

Six in the morning comes fast and comes quick,
The girls will coming running and me I’ll feel sick.
For too much “hot cocoa” will sure do me in,
But no time to waste, we must reach the end.

As we screw that last screw and toss the last box,
I’m thankful I somehow became a nighthawk.
We turn off the lights and tuck into bed,
I know this exhaustion is probably widespread.

I wish and I hope that maybe next year,
The fat man named Santa will visit us here.
Until then we’ll keep up with this fun charade
Because we’re all Santa, at home I’m afraid.

Seriously, Jerry Seinfeld, where are you?

This child is beyond funny. Shoot, I'm sure they all are. But this is mine, so I have to brag. And after all, this is my blog. I've been searching for boots for Rylee. We're going skiing in February so I've been stocking up on things the girls need. I have a running tally of things I need for them and things I already have for me. I grew up skiing, so I'm pretty stoked they're going to get the chance, at least Rylee. Anyway, neither here nor there. My point is, I've been looking for slash purchasing boots for these crazy cats. I found a sweet little pink pair of boots for Sophia complete with two little pom pons dangling from them (ok, ok, but for a 2 year old, it's pretty cute) and I have yet to find some for The Instigator. Now, I had had my eye on some rain boots. I know they're not traditional snow boots, so she is getting another pair for Christmas, but these were so cute I couldn't pass them up. I really should start posting pictures with my blog....I mean, I am a photographer. So they're pink, black and white, hard to describe type boots, but perfect for rain, snow and your basic pettiskirt. Yeah you photogs know what I'm talking about. Seriously off track. So the other night she's wearing them. Giving them a whirl, yet takes them off somewhere between the back door and her room. I find them mid entry way and see a ginormous black scuff on the wall. I say to her "Rylee, did you throw your boots right here"...NO! "Rylee, did you throw your boots right here?"....NO! Daddy did it! "Rylee, Daddy wouldn't put the boots here, are you lying to me?"......*stops, thinks, looks around to find Daddy and sees that she's in the clear - whew, he's outside*....."DADDY DID IT!" - Little stinker. I caught her red handed and she still sold him out. After a chat, I got the truth, held my laughter in and went about my business. Truth be told I did laugh later. Man I'm getting it back so bad.......

Oh how I wish this were true...

Today as we were driving home in the car Rylee started in on her 20 questions. I always thought my Mom was the smartest lady on the face of the earth, and maybe she really is, but I now see how and why my Mom always had the right answer. Sometimes it's hard to keep answering or find the "right" answer. I mean really, these questions don't stop. The child will talk an entire hour car ride if she could. Nonstop. I tune in and out sometimes, but today was funny. As we're turning into our neighborhood she says "I think Daddy needs a new car".....I said, well, Daddy would probably like a new car, but cars cost money and we need more of it to get him a new car. (let me note that 1 - I just got a new car a year ago, and his card is paid off, so it's nice to have one car payment and 2- this child has vowed to follow in his footsteps and become a Banker.)....so after I say we need more money for a new car she says to me, as if I was stupid or something with her most sarcastic voice "well.....I know where to get money, that's what banks are for".....SILLY ME! What was I thinking? After all we had just stopped by two before venturing home. Now, I have asked The Saver to bring home some money before, but he never listens. I guess Rylee just jumped on that bandwagon with me. After all, I think she's on to something! I love their innocence....but I honestly had no idea where to begin to explain that the money in the banks, was not all ours to just have. These conversations get better and better each time.....

More talks with Sophia....

After a long morning at Mom-to-Mom, we ventured over to the neighborhood pizza pie place, complete with playscape. The theory is that they'll be so worn out afterward that I'll have an afternoon of peace. Ha, peace. You read that correctly. Fun thought though, huh? Well, usually they're beyond tired and it backfires. Sort of like today. As we were showing up I had to wake up Sophia. I should have seen the red flags go up, but somehow in my life, I always tend to ignore those flags. Here goes.....

Me - You are a tired girl, are you sleepy?
Sophia - NO!
Me - Did you have fun playing?
Sophia - NO!
Me - Are you ready to go home?
Sophia - NO!!!!!
Me - Do you only want to say No?
Sophia - YES!!!!!

Smarten than the average bear. I thought for sure that one would be a no too, after all, she was on a roll. Guess I was mistaken. What happened? The child turned two on the 7th and though to herself, hmmmm, 2.....I best start acting my age. Oh give me strength!!! How will I make it through.....t-minus 16 more years of drama. Although, I can't even say it will end. I certainly was super dramatic until 25 when my Mother gave me the ole "Alison, I just don't know what else to do with you".....I reap what I sow. I think we need to move to NYC or LA and enroll in acting classes because these girls would certainly make it big. Hmmmm, maybe I'm onto something!

Errands seemed like a good idea....

Why is it that errands must be so dang difficult with kids? They are inevitable, they have to get done, I don't always enjoy them either, so what gives? It's like all hell breaks lose the minute we step foot into a store. And you know, it seems that everyone else has kids who strapped on their listening ears for the day and quietly and calmly walk right next to them. My kiddo's, if they're not strapped into the cart, they're running amuck. The Instigator, in true instigator fashion, finds a reason to throw a fit everytime, or like today, trips over my feet and lands head first into the handle of the shopping cart. Now, I'd earn the horrible mother of the year title if I ignored this little mishap, so here I am knelt down hugging her as she sobs complete with red bump in between her eyes and what happens.....the other one pipes in. She now sees that the other child has gotten my attention and cannot stand it, so she launches herself into a full bout of tantrum throwing. As we push on and get to the baby section I stop and think, hmmm, what's that smell? That rancid, awful, horrible knock you out kind of smell? The Instigator says "SISSY, YOU STINK!".....so we find the restroom (thank you to the guy who oh so brilliantly placed them near the baby section) and push the entire cart into the restroom. This Mom and her two kids I swear saw us heading that way and took off like the Indy 500 to get to the "Family Restroom" before me. Fine, we'll go in the normal one. As I get in there, I realize that I have to open the new box of diapers and the new wipes. No problem, except for the fact that mister inspector #32 taped the box so damn tight that only an exacto knife could cut through it. COME ON, just ONE diaper is all I need. I scramble for my keys....no where to be found. *Lightbulb* The silent assassin stole them when the head trauma occurred earlier in our trip. I find them, change her and we're on our way. But not before running into someone we know, throwing food all over the ground and having a complete meltdown as I checkout. 20 items people. I was able to checkout in the fast checkout.....but there was nothing "fast" about the small amount of items that I just got. There went an entire hour. An hour! I could have done this all at lightning speed if only it were just me. I suppose I brought this upon myself when I so selfishly tried to squeeze a quick workout in prior to running these errands....perhaps next time I'll remember this before venturing out again. One would hope.....

I swear I don't drink that much.....

Wednesday's are our "Church" days. I go to Mom to Mom and the girls go to their respective rooms to learn about the Bible, sing songs, color and overall, have a good time. We're there for 2 hours so that I can listen to the materials and attend my small group. Basically a group of Moms like me who are going through the same things. I love it. It's been a good thing. So today we go, running late as usual. Today I'm just glad I got a bath. I admit that sometimes we're in such a rush to get up, changed, dressed, fed, etc, that bath takes a backseat. Yep, I'm the stinky kid in class. Let's keep that between us though. I'm sure all those cute Moms (refer to yesterday's post) surely have time to bathe. At least today, I bathed, just didn't make it with makeup. Again, neither here nor there. So after my group is over and the two hours have flown by faster than the first year of a baby's life, I go pick up my crazy cats. First stop, Sophia's room. She did well and had a great time. Wonderful! On to Rylee's room. She shows me a plant she's planted, aka a pot of dirt that we will watch bloom next spring, and a picture she colored and I'm on my way. Halfway down the hall and on my way to leave, a sweet young girl says "she's hilarious". I say "she's crazy!" She keeps laughing and says to me "Today we learned the importance of healthy foods" (as Rylee chews her 2nd or perhaps 3rd tootsie roll....before lunch.....*gasp*....I know I'm that Mom)......and I say, oh really that's cool, she needs that talk! I guess I've left healthy eating habits lecture for someone else because our house is full of candy. And her teeth will probably fall out. I'm rambling. So this girl then proceeds to tell me "yep, we learned about healthy foods and cut them out of a magazine and glued them to a piece of paper". Again, I'm very proud and happy they did this. She's learned a ton, thank you Mom to Mom people......but then, as I'm glowing in my proud moment she says.....and again I quote "she even found a picture of a bottle of wine and said I HAVE to put this one on my paper because MY Mom LOVES wine!"........red face......heart melting.....bowing head.....tail between my legs......(remember, I'm in a Church).......I say "I swear I don't drink THAT much." DOH! Fish is to water like Mommy is to wine. Oh man......this is going to be a long 18 years.

Oh the joys of parenting.....

Twice a week I take our girls to "preschool"....which does teach them a lot, but it's only from 9-1, so it feels more like a Mother's Day Out. Although, I do wonder what Mother's Day Out means because I have to go put in some time at work while they're there. I'd much rather be at the gym or nail salon. But that's neither here nor there. I love the school, I really do, but sometimes I feel like less of a Mom. So many cute Mom's, in their Mercedes or Escalades, in their cute little clothes.....*eye roll*.....I just don't have time for all of that. Really. Although if my super saver wants to buy me one of those cars, I won't say no. ;) Honestly though, when do they get all cute because I know from 7-8:30 am it's get them dressed, fed and out the door. Maybe if I got up at 5 or 6 am? No thanks! I cherish that extra bit of sleep when I'm exhausted from our activities the day before. Aren't they? Point is, I show up today with somewhat of a cute outfit, but the dirtiest hair known to man rockin my perma-pony. Surely everyone can see this grease, but I owned it. So I take Rylee in her class and realized I had signed up for Holiday Stickers for the class. I looked and looked for Halloween stickers that don't include the typical ghost, witch, skull and crossbones, since after all, this is a Christian church preschool, and the teacher gives me her suggestion and I'm on my way. I get in the car, look in the mirror and WHAT THE....I have a "flake" in my nose. Not a full on booger like that of the dorky kid in Diary of a Wimpy Kid, but a white flake. Regardless of the size, it was there while I talked to all the people I talked to. How nice. Now, I'm not in Middle School, so this isn't detrimental to my survival to society, but why didn't someone tell me? I guess I wouldn't have either if I don't really know the person. Ho hum. Today I am known as the booger lady. Attractive. As if the greasy hair wasn't bad enough.......surely I'm not alone on all of this.

Oh, and let me just also note that Rylee thinks the movie Diary of a Wimpy Kid is called....get ready....."Diarrhea Kid"....so not only am I the unfashionable mom who has boogers in her nose, but I also have "that kid" who repeats things like "We watched Diarrhea Kid" to the class and her teachers who then wonder what the heck we aren't teaching at home. Let's hope this week improves.

Learning about inside voices

Dear Dora the Explorer,

I appreciate you being my babysitter for a little while today while I cook the girls' lunch. However, I have a little bone to pick with you. I'm trying to teach my children the importance of our voice and when to use it loudly and when to talk softly. For example, a great use of our outside voice might be if we see a snake. An example of a good quiet inside voice is to quietly tell Mommy or Daddy in church that you have to go number two and not alert the entire congregation. See, these are things that are important to us and I feel important to others around us with children as well. When I work hard on this very thing, I think you're negating everything by telling these impressionable kiddo's to in fact YELL as loud as you can "SWIPER!" if they see him. After all, you can't really hear them warn you of this clepto fox can you? Unless I have some type of 22nd century interactive television that I was unaware of. If you could keep this in mind, I'd really appreciate it. Please pass the word along to Mickey and the gang while calling for Toodles. There's a time and a place. Perhaps if your parents were actually present during these learning adventures, they might teach you the importance of 'the inside voice' as well. Just sayin'. Thank you though for teaching colors and numbers. That is a bonus which will allow us to continue watching you trample through jungles, mountains and rivers all to get home.

Sincerely a concerned parent,
Alison DeStefano

Dr's Visits....Must they be so terrible?

I think the title says it all. I dread going to a Doctor for the girls like I dread getting the flu. I'm also hoping this isn't just me. I mean, sure, no Mom wants to take their kiddo's to get shots, but we seem to frequent the Dermatologist and Allergist more than we have to get the dreaded shots. Today was a repeat visit for a skin issue for The Instigator, and along the way I decided to drop off The Silent Assassin! Thank goodness because taking both of them is my worst nightmare. Let me preface this by saying that I have taken both to this Doctor before, however, it will never happen again. This office is a dual Dermo and Allergist in one. You walk in to the fancy schmancy Mediterranean style building through their fancy schmancy wrought iron doors and it's all white. White? I halfway feel like I'm about to be strapped down in a mental jacket (although that wouldn't be so bad after the visit) and halfway feel like I left Austin and entered California. Did I mention this place also does Cosmetic Surgery? I think you have to have had something done before you're hired. And I don't say that to knock it, after all my girls aren't the same (you know what I mean), but I mention it because I feel like I have to wear my most trendy outfit, purse and accessories just to go to the appointment......and let me insert this note - I don't have many of these "trendy" items....I'm a Mom. Anyway, the first time we visited this white room of nightmares, my children wrote on the white leather couch with a pen. I simply told the woman at the desk who then looked at me as if I came into her own house and let my kids run wild with markers throughout. Come on lady, use a wipe. So we find ourselves there again today and it was the the recurring nightmare. Running around, from one chair to the next, multiple potty trips (including a numero dos) and pulling the Doctors gloves from the boxes and trying them all on. Oh, and apparently they pay to print pamphlets as writing material for my children. How nice of them! Why......why do these appointments wreak havoc on my sanity?