Before I had a baby......

I recently watched a hilarious video of a comedian talking about people with kids versus without. It got me thinking of all the things I used to do before I had a baby versus now. I believe it looks a little something like this.

Before I had a baby, I wore my bikini to the pool to bask in the glow of the sun, accompanied by a fruity adult beverage, perhaps even with a little umbrella........now, my glow comes from a bottle, I wear a and hat to cover my face as to avoid wrinkling and use a anti-aging cream to pretend it's helping and I roll up with a sippy cup and basket of toys chasing a kid who just wants to run around and not actually get in the pool.

Before I had a baby, I went to my OBGYN, wait, GYN, without a care in the world other than making sure I had showered before my visit......now, I go with at least 1, if not 2 of 3 children in tow, and hide them behind the curtain sitting on the bench where I've hidden my panties, watching a movie only to have one pop out just as the invasive procedure begins and say "PEEK-A-BOO!".....bet they're scarred for life now.

And on that note.....

Before I had a baby, I showered. Like, daily......now, I'm lucky if I squeeze in a quick bath twice a week. And if I plan it correctly, the shower gets its weekly, monthly clean while I'm in there. I mean it's all about time management.

Before I had a baby, I ate a meal. Sitting in peace with the company of a friend or family member......now I eat standing in the kitchen taking bites in between cleaning up from the dishes that are piled up in the sink or coming back to me from the kitchen table. How did I miss the sit down portion? But I don't fret, I like to think this is a new form of weight loss to exercise and move while eating.

Before I had a baby, I went to the gym for a good heart pounding, sweat inducing workout and left feeling like I can wear anything that evening when I went out for a cocktail......now, I go to work off the wine I consume, again with 1 or 2 kids in tow only to be paged because "your kid is screaming" and return to class and remember I should have peed on my way back in, which we call mommy bladder, then return to class to be paged about a kid who has now pooped and needs changing and finally join the class at the end for claps praising the teacher for a great class. Wait, its over? The only sweat I broke was running back and forth between the class and the kids area.

Before I had a baby I had my hair and nails done. Every 6 weeks as recommended for hair and 2 as recommended for nails......now my long luscious locks as I like to think they are, are "growing out" not because I want long hair but more so the fact that there is no time for a salon visit and my manicure is purple paint on one hand and green on the other provided by a 7 and 5 year old.

Before I had a baby I spent my money as I wished.....now we spend a small fortune each year on these little money suckers visiting every Doctor known to man and because the said visit or procedure was so traumatizing we then spend more on the cool smoothie drink that was promised as a bribe and a stop off at the local big box store to hit up the dollar bin and all is then right in their world.

And before I had a baby, I slept. No need for further explanation here.

Before I had a baby, I had a life of my own, now, this is my life......and I wouldn't have it any other way. But I just want to thank the smelly lotion gods for making a line that will cover up the way I surely smell from the lack of bathing, and the scientist behind the glow in a bottle, and the wine makers. Oh how I thank the wine makers from the bottom of my non-exercised heart. At least I know I'm in good company at every play date I attend with other moms rocking the yoga pants because they're comfortable, not because we're actually "yogi's". And on that note, it's time to head off to yet another doctor for yet another money draining visit and I haven't sprinkled my hair with baby powder to cover the grease yet.....so I bid you adieu.

Goodbye give me, hello respect

So, I've been saying for far too long now a bunch of "next time's" and "from now on's" and it has gotten me no where. Overall, we have some pretty good kiddos. Perhaps, however, with a little bit too much of a sense of entitlement. In this day of technology, I'm all for them learning and playing games, and so far we don't have an addiction, but the give me's and I want's are out of control. We found ourselves on a road trip quite some time ago with them and I had packed everything. Nabis. Iphones. DS's. Leapsters. Vreaders. Ipads. Crayons. Books. You name it, it was there. And one hour into the trip, with all of these things, plus an in car DVD player these children had the audacity to say......are you ready? "I'm BORED!" I think I lost it and channeled my parents and shouted "You don't KNOW bored! When I was your age I looked out the window! I played the ABC game!", to which of course I had to explain this said ABC game. Now, like I said this was some time ago, so my fault for letting it get to this point, and for giving giving giving. But the buck stops here and now. Summer 2013. Camp DeStefano commenced. So, what better than chores. They've been doing them, but not regularly and I wasn't consistent. My biggest fail. Consistency. I got myself on pinterest, oh pinterest, my love hate relationship....and I searched "chore charts". Sure, I could go print some easy ones, but then I'd have to continue printing each week and let's be honest, I went into labor saving a tree, so I thought there has to be some way to just re-use it each week. I didn't like all the store bought ones because they don't always fit our needs. So tada! I made one. Pinterest inspired me and off to Michael's I went. Here it is and what you need, nothing fancy, but fun.

FAMILY letters complete with hooks:

4 Burlap bags and sparkly letters. One bag for To Do and one bag for Complete, for each girl:

One excited chore go'er to glue on letters:

And the finished product desperately seeking some chores to insert in each letter bag:

And voila! Now the Banker and I need to come up with the age appropriate chores for them and the rewards. He recently spoke to the first grade classes about banking and what he does. He mentioned many of the kids were earning a lot of money. So with one obsessed with Justice clothing and one who loves Starbucks, yes I said Starbucks, these girls are going to learn the value of a dollar! And I will follow in my oh so wise Sister-in-law's footsteps. They will pay me if I have to do their chores. In her words "I should be paid for my time". GENIUS. Fingers crossed, wish us luck.

We took a swing on the hammock....

I became a stay at home Mom almost a year ago. It's been an amazing, fun, but fast year. My baby is nearly 9 months, the middle child is 4 1/2 and my oldest is 7ish. When did all of this happen? I've had a really hard time with The Instigator turning 7 this year for some odd reason. Which always makes me realize how old the other two are as well. So it got me thinking, did I use this year wisely? I'm not sure that I honestly did. Man, how honest is that. Granted, I did have a baby and she wasn't the easiest until 5/6 months old. She was very time consuming, as most babies are, but add a side of medical issues and voila, time.gone. As I started to discuss Pre-K with The Banker, it occurred to me that although I really want her to go off to school next year, socialize, make friends, learn, play, etc, I would miss her! I have just one more precious year with her due to the way her birthday falls and I need to make the most of it.

We've all seen that email or Facebook message that has gone around. You know the one. The one to make you feel guiltier than a prostitute in church. The one that is CLEARLY a man writing "hey mom, I see you at the park on your phone" basically while her kids are run amuck. I mean, come on. Perhaps it was an emergency? Perhaps her husband was calling? Perhaps she was waiting on an important phone call from the pediatrician on the bazillionth test she's run on her poor baby? I don't know what she was doing, but she was on her phone and this "person" was pointing out how quickly her kids will grow up before her eyes while she's doing so. So regardless of the reason I'm on my phone, or ipad, or other device we all cannot live with out, I felt an overwhelming feeling of guilt reading to stupid article. So I decided I have got to use my time wisely.

Sophia has been begging to swing on the hammock. Recently I took her out and we swung and swung and swung to give Rylee some peace while doing homework. She thought it was the best thing since Team Umizoomi. Following that she asked daily and I always, always, had an excuse. It's too wet. It's too hot. The baby is awake. Yep, I was that Mom. The one feeling guilty about the darn phone and still not doing a thing about it. So, one morning we woke up, the hammock and grass were soaking wet, it was really hot and sunny following a rain which then meant humidity and we were still in our jammies. And guess what I did. We swung on the hammock! I took my phone only to snap a fun pic then tucked it away. We talked about clouds and school, shoot we even discussed the dog poop in the grass, but I had a blast. We were soaking wet when we got up and I didn't care at all. I realized, in this world of Pinterest Moms who appear to look like June Cleaver, I pin and pin and never do. So now is the time. To swing on the hammock, finally do all those crafts I pin then forget about, cook some dinners with them and let them make a mess (Ok so I will work on letting them make a mess) and spend the quality time that everyone says "flies by". I hope as school is getting out that you will join me. And join me because you want to, not because someone made you feel guilty or you're trying to outdo the Pinterest Mom who just pinned some outlandish crafty crapola that she did. Have fun!!

Badge of Honor? Malarkey

Recently I've read about having babies, motherhood, womanhood, neighborhood.....ok, not the last one, but I just wanted to say another hood. Anyhoo, I keep reading about a c-section scar and belly and it being some sort of "badge of honor" that I should wear proudly. Ummm, who wrote this bunch of bunk and where does she live? Before you get all offended on me and stop following my blog, let me just say I've put in my time. I have 5 babies. 3 here and 2 in heaven. I was on bedrest for a loooong 10 1/2 weeks with my 2nd, 4 weeks with my 3rd and had a good ole ectopic surgery that I paid my firstborn for in medical bills. And let's not forget all of the other fun stuff that comes along with pregnancy that I endured. So I can gladly say I MUCH prefer a "normal" birth over this c-section crap. I had mine in an emergency. EEEEEEmergency I say. I would never have done that willingly. Surely those stories about celebrities electing to do them are like a sasquatch.....non-existent. The cut is low, I give you that, but I'm about sick of the dunlop. You know, "my muffin top dunlops over my jeans". My expensive ass jeans that I worked so hard after baby numero dos to finally go out and purchase. And don't even get me started on my "skinny" jeans. And by that I don't mean the jeggings, I mean the ones you have to be in tip top shape to wear. Again, ones I waited to buy until I was SURE I was done having babies and in shape to buy. Joke's on me huh....God said "And let there be another baby (or two) muahahahahahaha!" Serves me right for spending an absurd amount of money on jeans. Wait, why am I even talking about jeans, it's friggin' April 5th. In Texas. I should be in flops and tanks. Oh but not today. Today was a brisk 30's. Which leads me, finally (I know know I'm rambling) into the point of my story. This kangaroo pouch. Someone, in the name of skinny jeans, please tell me my hard work will pay off and this gut will go away and I won't have to be one of those women who call this thing a badge of honor. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy I was able to have these babes and I wouldn't trade them for the world, but I'd like to have my cake and eat it too. Wait, I can't afford cake on my caloric intake. So, I'd like to have my raw veggies and eat them too. Babies AND a flat stomach again. It will happen. I must.......this bootcamp at 5:30am and these 4 mile runs cannot be in vain. It's hard freakin' work people. Stay tuned. We shall see. I took a picture of myself in my swimsuit in January when I started hitting the pavement hard again....no, it wasn't pretty and thankfully, nobody was around, but I did it because it keeps me going. Living in Texas I spend way too much time at the pool, and as our trainer says, you gotta look good walkin' away......so to you, lady who called this gut a badge of honor, I kindly say, not acceptable.

What is it about illnesses that make you want to run for the hills? We had a doozie of a, they think, virus last week that hit us hard! The Instigator broke out in hives something fierce. Thankfully, it has left us. So yesterday, they begged to play outside. I think to myself, sure you need some good ole vitamin D and quite frankly, momma needs some alone time (wait, did I just say alone? HA, I'm funny)....so I sent them outside to play with all the neighborhood kids. Which, by the way, rocks. Things were going great until....scene 1, take 1.

Rylee enters stage left. "MOMMY!!!"

Me: "shhhhh the baby is SLEEEping!!!! WHAT do you need?"

Rylee: in some kind of micro machine man speed talk "can.I.go.into.X.and.X.house.everyone.is.going.and.I.want.to.go.PLEEEEEEEASE!!!!"

Me: "Were you invited?"

Rylee: "No, but I want to go"

Me: "Well, no, not if you weren't invited.

Rylee: "Ok, I think I was."

Me: with a puzzled look on my face "you just said you weren't?!?!"

Rylee: "well I think I was"

Me: "I don't think so. Their mom isn't home, it's their nanny and did they say do you want to come over"

Rylee: return of the micro machine speed voice "no.but.I.want.to.go.everyone.else.is.why.can't.I.go?"

And at this point I can no longer correctly quote because it all happened so fast. All I know is that there was some feet stomping as if she was auditioning for a college stomp group, some screaming, some crying and even.....wait for it.....some shoe throwing. Now, I'm all for a good cry, but this was utterly and inappropriately ridiculous. I literally had no words. I just stood there thinking, where do I go from here? I try to gain my composure and use all of my Mom power to say to myself "Alison, don't go there, she's 6, you're 29 and holding"......but to my surprise, the stomp audition continued, and no, it was not impressive. Suddenly crazy took over, the mom finger in the face came out, you know the one, the one that points right at you and shakes in your face, and I lost my cool. I took her by the arm and CRAP, her Daddy is doing a project in her room, the baby is sleeping next door, where do I drag this child for timeout? She got put into her sister's room with a "you DARE wake that baby and you're in here the rest of the day!" I shut the door and stood in the hallway. Where do I go? What do I do? I don't even know what just happened here. My adrenaline was going, quiet whimpers ensue and then I think, where is the other troublemaker......AT THE NEIGHBORS HOUSE! The Silent Assassin didn't even bother to come ask, she just did. Doh. All this for nothing. Needless to say she was retrieved, baths started and bed was early.

Dog days of winter....

I'm normally not one to divulge this information, but I feel safe knowing I am surrounded by law enforcement on my street. Dave went hunting, his first deer hunting trip and I.....well, I'm playing single mom. I give the biggest props to single moms because I'm dying here. Last night was a cake walk compared to today. We played outside, rode bikes, enjoyed the neighbors company, even had a sleepover in our bed and lights were out and all were asleep by 9:30, myself included. But then......
After a month of sleeping until at least 6:30, usually later, the newest lil DeStefano decides 5 am is a good wake up call on a Saturday. I quietly did what I could as to keep the others asleep. Why, I don't know, because they certainly weren't kind to me kicking, pushing and sitting up in the bed talking and screaming in their sleep, half giving me a heart attack. ALL.NIGHT.LONG. But hey, I chose to have the sleepover, so my bad. Finally, we get up for the day. And this next part is somewhat hazy as I went from one thing to the other. But here it goes....
I first started by wiping a bottom, not mine, for one who had a bit of a problem if you get my drift. And her drift that early in the morning was not what I wanted. I followed that up by going to brush my teeth only to see my sweet dog Zach sliding around on the tile floor on some type of liquid. I know I haven't dripped water, so I look and what, what's that? Oh, just Jeter peeing on my comforter, stepping in it, jumping down off the bed to pee some more on the carpet and walk it all over the tile in the bathroom. I get that cleaned up, except the comforter because I have no clue how it's going to be cleaned only to discover the damn dog is now vomiting, all over my Pottery Barn dining room rug. Now, I walk in there slowly as to now scare the friggin SHIT Tzu because I learned my lesson last week chasing Zach around as he's throwing up, it only made things worse and my entire living room was christened. I say come on Jeter, calmly (or as calm as I could with that dog) and he then runs to the foyer to vomit some more. WONDERFUL. As I walk him through the living room.....holy heck what is that stinch? I toss Jeter outside, ok I didn't literally toss him, don't want PETA flagging my posts.....I come back in and the baby is whining. Hmmm, stinch found. I pick her up and she's wet. I can handle that. We go to change and Mother Mary it's a blowout. Clothes and all. Bottom wipe, not mine, #2. Well, technically #3 since I did The Silent Assassin twice. Folks. This all happened before 9 am and before coffee.
All I have to say here is that I hope you enjoyed a good laugh at my expense. Because I'm not laughing. And I have now duly noted this so that when I say "babe, momma is going out" I can recall this day and remind him about how well deserved my few hours away will be. I will survive the next 24 hours, I will survive the next 24 hours, I will survive......lather, rinse, repeat.

Elf Therapy

This is the story. The story of an Elf who just couldn't get his sh*$ together. Try as he may, he just couldn't keep up with all of the other overachiever elf buddy's. He set out to find help. Help only those who understood the feeling could provide. This, is Sparky's story.
December 6th - My 2nd Meeting

We met in another room tonight. I wonder why. I guess it was fine because there was entertainment tonight. Some girl named Tinkerbell was there playing her best rendition of Deck the Halls and Jingle Bells. Talk about a small girl. She needs a smaller piano. She didn't talk, just played. I'd like to find more out about her though. Seems like an interesting background. But anyway, the same crowd showed up....Ken and Ariel. Ken was so rude and sat in the only chair. He didn't even offer Ariel a seat. I offered, she said she'd rather stand. I think she didn't want to sit by that jerk, Ken. Again, Ken spoke first and tonight it was all about his hair. He went on and on about whether he should cut it or keep the same style. Personally, I could care less, but I told him to leave it and that it looked nice. Isn't that what therapy is for, be kind to those around you and support them. It just seems so petty. There are bigger issues in the world, like the fact that I'm worked to the friggin' bone. I told him I'd love to walk a day in his shoes. I quietly sit on some perch all day watching every move of these kids, and I told him, then I fly home....yes, fly, which by the way is not just a quick hop skip and a jump. I'm exhausted by the time I get there. I arrive usually around midnight only to go straight to work. They asked me when I slept and I just laughed. I told them sleep is for those who are weak. The lady of the house I visit everyday probably agrees. She doesn't seem to sleep. Ken and Ariel seem to have it made. Maybe I'll take them home with me one night to see what I'm talking about. It's work work work. I have to make toys all night long until the wee hours of the morning and somehow schedule in my long flight back to the house so that I can reappear before those kids wake up. And don't even get me started on flight delays. I can't just take off wherever I please, I have to go through customs. As if I can hide something in this suit? I did hear a story once of an elf hiding stuff from his people home and bringing it back. I shudder to think of where he smuggled that in. I'm just overworked and overtired. Ken started to only pay attention to the third version of Up on the Rooftop and tuned me out, so I really got a chance to talk to Ariel. She's a good listener. I think her Dad used to treat her like Santa treats me. I'm really starting to like her. I told her about the other elves and how inadequate I feel. I have no desire to make a big ole mess in my house each night. After all, it's more for that lady to clean and by the looks of it, she's cleaning all day, everyday, as it is. That just seems wrong. Ariel agrees that the other elves seem to be overachievers. I mean, with so many of us elves, does Santa even really notice? No. The answer is, no. Since I started at this therapy I have made a few new friends who feel the same as me. Two elves named Bobo and Cutie are on the same page as me. Maybe they should join me. I'll have to see if I can squeeze them into this session, but if not, I plan to share some coping techniques......anyway, the night ended with Ariel briefly telling me about some Ursula witch who took her voice and sent her to land to fall in love. That Ursula sounds more to me like a witch with a B. Just sayin.....we wrapped the night all singing a quick Joy to the World. How ironic. I look forward to tomorrow night....I just hope Ken has some valuable input.

Underachievers Anonymous

This is the story. The story of an Elf who just couldn't get his sh*$ together. Try as he may, he just couldn't keep up with all of the other overachiever elf buddy's. He set out to find help. Help only those who understood the feeling could provide. This, is Sparky's story.
December 5th - My first meeting.

I discovered a great group of people. It's a small group, but they seem nice so far. I think one said his name was Ken and the girl, who doesn't seem to be with him, said her name was Ariel....or something like that. Ken is a mess. I'd like to think more than I am. I mean, I know it's supposed to be a judgement free zone, but the guy wore some kind of pin striped jumpsuit, or seersucker. Either way, guys don't wear onesies. But again, who am I to judge when the big guy himself has me wear a red fleece one piece get up with a girly collar. I mean come on. But anyway, back to Ken. He spoke first, he seems to be a pro at this meeting. He talked all about feeling the pressure and never living up to his name. He mentioned always feeling the tension and competition between him and some girl named Barbie, who I think lives in the house we meet in. But she never showed up, just dropped off some fancy cake as if that's what I need in a skin tight suit. Maybe she attends the overachievers meeting I saw also listed as this address, I just hope she spelled Anonymous correctly on their sign. Or maybe Ken lives here. I can't figure it out, so I'm anxious to hear more of his story. I started to wonder more about Ariel's story as he went on and on about clothes and cars; he seems a little materialistic. Ariel did finally get her chance, with a few rude interruptions from Ken. He's going to get on my nerves. She has some weird past. Something about living in the sea and leaving her family behind who are all princesses. She felt the pressure to conform but never felt right in her own skin.....or tail. I think she used to be a mermaid, at least that's what I gather. Again, strange story with that one, but I live in the same place eating milk and cookies all year, so maybe I'm the strange one. Anyway, she came lookin' a hot mess. I mean, she tried to dress nice, but has she heard of a comb? Maybe Ken would let her borrow one or two of his. Towards the end I finally introduced myself and briefly covered why I was there. I let them know where I was from and what my job was. As if it's not bad enough I have to watch over kids all day long, I then have to fly home and report in only to feel extremely annoyed when I hear about all of the other activities that the other elves have done.....getting into the toothpaste, destroying the Christmas tree, baking things. COME.ON. I laugh because they are just a bunch of brown nosin' pieces of reindeer poo. I'm so sick of it. Get.a.life. I plan to tell them more, but it was only the first meeting and I didn't want to seem all pathetic. So we bid our adieu's and were on our way. I singed up for a month long session, meeting nightly. Guess I'm just hoping to feel better about this whole elf thing in the end.

I think I may have to lay the smack down on censorship. I'm all for a good song on the radio, movie on TV, show on Nickelodeon, but when my children cannot distinguish appropriate words or behaviors, I'm thinking it may be a problem. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for a good windows down, sunglasses on kind of roll around the neighborhood bobbing our heads to Justin Bieber's Boyfriend, after all, Kidz Bop isn't really my cup of tea, but I may have to invest in Salty's Sings Praises 4 after what I've experienced. The Instigator has always been more into "older" movies, and by that I mean Home Alone, The Sound of Music, Wizard of Oz, etc. She wasn't really a princess movie junkie like the Silent Assassin is. That girl can buy more princess dolls than can be manufactured. She also enjoys the occasional princess song and/or Disney radio. However, there was a movie made that they love, the life story of none other than Katy Perry. And I must admit, I was completely ready to watch this movie, cried in my cheerios when they had to address the divorce between her and Russell Brand (gimme a break, I was pregnant), and even enjoy her songs now and again, but it's taken a turn for the worst I fear. The girls love to bring movies in the car. Favorite for the last few months has been, da da da daaaaaa, Katy Perry, making this the most seen movie in the car by far. Far exceeding Elmo, Cinderella and Mickey. No less than 50 times I'm sure. I have watched this movie, on a good ole fashion family fun movie Saturday, it was just the once. The girls can recite it though. They know every line. Every song. So you can imagine the surprise I got. It was a casual day, we had run some errands, the movie was on. Again. I usually give them headphones because, well let's be honest, I can recite it now too having just listened to it. But really, I hadn't paid all that much attention to her songs other than I thought "oh that's really cool, she's a Christian girl raised by Protestant Ministers and writes about her own life experiences". Did I mention that she married (and divorced) the comedian/actor Russell Brand? You know the one. The obnoxious long haired fellow. (fellow, how old am I?)...... The plot thickens. So again, we're having a lovely mother daughter day. Sade was playing on my pandora radio, The Innocent was sleeping, a rare car occasion, and the oldest of the two twinkle toes were quietly watching Katy Perry, the Movie. Life is grand. From time to time they'll blurt out a line or two, or a "baby you're a fiiiiiirework".....but this time, this particular day was like no other. Apparently there is a song, and act on stage, where she is wearing a peacock feathered outfit, as are her back up dancers. Now, according to young minds, this song is all about a colorful friendly peacock. But I'm no fool, I know better. I about lost control of the car and veered off the road when I hear the Silent Assassin, who is only 4, start singing "I wanna see your peacock, cock cock, your peacock, cock, cock....." Now I'm not a gambling woman, but I'm willing to be this is not about a peacock. Oy. After I gained my composure from half shock, half hysterics, I casually continued driving. I'd rather not make a huge deal of it, but I may have to start censoring. Ugh.

The Sleep Circus

I half heartedly wrote this in my sleep last night. Wait, this morning. Sometime around 4 am. The Instigator slept through the night at 5 weeks. No really, 5 weeks. I'm not one of those boisterous mothers who brags about sleep for no good reason, she really did. However, because I bragged about it, the Silent Assassin arrived and gave me no less than 9 months of middle of the night misery. So what will "The Innocent" (Thank you Dawn DeStefano for the name) present us with? Time will tell. But so far, I'm not likin' it. She went a whole week doing a very nice 9pm-3 and 4am stretch. I thought, how nice, a girl could get used to this. Then, I talked about it. The fatal mistake. Two friends with babies, also new babies, came over and "Guess what she did last night, she slept from.....blah blah blah blah blah".....and bam, back up twice a night. I try to get my sorry self to bed and asleep by 9. Thankfully she likes to sit on her Daddy's lap with his foot shaking her no less than 100 shakes per minute, and his furnace body keeps her uber warm. So waking up at 2-3, not too shabby after a nice longer stretch like that. What gets me is the 4:30 feeding shortly after. And when I say short, I mean, short. That's just a cruel joke. Hey ma, look, no sleep. Then if that's not enough, we gotta do it again at 6:30?!?! I mean come on. I have no issues in the eating department. I don't need to graze and graze and graze. I don't do things half assed, no sir e. I eat my full meal, and then some, when presented with it. Then I hibernate. So this up night stuff, my dear third child, has got to stop. I always wake up hopeful, thinking, well, SURELY she will be exhausted today so we'll take a nap. Yes, I really said that. I know, I know, I'm super hilarious (or delusional). It doesn't happen. I spend my mornings holding, feeding, holding, feeding, holding....you get it. Throw in a few 10 minute fake out naps and it's lunchtime. I hold her, throw together some non-nutritional lunch for the poor Silent Assassin with one hand and the routine resumes. I some times get a long nap out of her, you know, in the car when there is no way in high heaven you can nap. Sigh. I'd definitely sell a kidney on the black market right now all in the name of a nap......over and out. The Innocent has woken up. Shocker.

I took a leave of absence.....

See what happens when you disappear?!?! You can come back with such news as "I had a baby"....although I did announce the pregnancy, so no shocker there. We all know the end result. She's here, nonetheless. She came in a fury. One month early, ass to the world calling for none other than an emergency c-section and faked her preemie status as "good" only to end up back in the NICU for 7 days with "failure to thrive". Yep, she's good to go now and our world is crazy. Crazier than the Instigator and the Silent Assassin you ask?!?! Oh yes, we've added to our chaos. This world of three kids is nonstop. Do ask yourself if you're ready for that if you're contemplating adding another being to your brood. People tried to tell me. But it's like trying to tell me not to eat that last piece of cake. I don't listen. Unlike cake, however, I don't regret this.....can't call it a choice because she was a big ole surprise, but I don't regret that night of too much wine. Anyhoo, so here we are. Three kids, two dogs, one cat and a partridge in a pear tree. I regret not blogging more earlier, there certainly has been enough to write about. Like today for example. I'm a walking Zombie, which is really good for me since Zombies are so "in" right now. Hopefully I'm doing it justice. The "insert name here" was up all night. I shoved one off to school and have been trying ever since for her to go back down so that I can nap. I came close, twice, but it was just a cruel joke she was playing. The kid sleeps with one eye open. I'm not kidding, she literally does, and I think it's for the simple pleasure of torturing me. It's like her periscope on a submarine.....I can just hear that alert going off in her head "mom's trying to sit, go, go, go....."......and bam, WAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!! It happens all day and during any nap or meal times. Hey, she has been a great weight loss technique. And the silent assasin is home with me, which may I point out is no longer "silent" by any means. She was removed from preschool to stay home with me and as her sister said, has no friends, so today she played hide n seek with the family a-hole dog. Granted, I was laughing, but I didn't want to. Laughter is not the best medicine today as I wanted to wallow in my own self pity. Must.get.sleep. About the time I did get her to really take a nap, which I'll regret come 2 am, it's time to start on dinner. So here I am, waiting on my dinner to simmer so that I may move onto step 2 of the ham soup I decided on making today, blogging instead of napping. I've really become a fan of makeup lately. It covers the darkest of circles. And wine, I was reunited with my buddy wine......reunited, and it feels sooooo good. Anyway, glad to be back. Stick around. It's going to be a bumpy ride. Oh, and perhaps you can help me give this one a name. Any suggestions? The Instigator, the Silent Assassin and the......

Summer Lovin.....

I regret ever saying "let's get together this summer when things slow down". Who the heck ever said things slow down in the summer? I should have known better. This is my third summer this way. We're into our 4th week and so far we've done two VBS's (is that plural even correct?!?!) a week off to recoop and cancelled this week's swim camp. Yep, I'm the horrible parent who cancelled swim camp. An all important camp. Oh well. She can swim. But I must say, I'm rather enjoying the Selena Gomez concert they're putting on for me and all of the chalk dust on the floor from their coloring. That's what really matters in life right? I'm adding a new set of books to my "I'm reading" list, not that anyone cares, but if you're like me (and you've read this blog) then you know why I'm reading these books. One is, Making Children Mind without Losing Yours by Dr. Kevin Leman.
And the other one is, Raising Your Spirited Child
by Mary Sheedy Kurcinka.

So far I've only been able to dive into the first, and so far, I'm one guilty parent. I think somewhere in there he says something along the lines of a good ole take it or leave it, and THAT I love. It doesn't make me feel like I've done everything all wrong, but he did provide some suggestions. My point is, what is it about summer that makes these kiddo's lose their minds?!?! I've already lost mine. Maybe I need to find a book that is titled, Making Children Mind after You've Lost Yours......hmmmm, I'm onto something. Can someone in the cuckoo's nest really be a good parent? I suppose time will tell. I mean, as I was just trying to do one simple task this summer, ie: check out these helpful books, the one child that I did have that day took books about Texas history off the shelf, threw it on the floor and refused to pick it up. We had a stand off, and I do mean stand off, to see who A) who could stand there longer or B) who would finally pick the dang book up. Guess who won? Surely there is a chapter on consistency I haven't gotten to yet...... Hoping your summer is going as crazy as mine. Did I mention I'm absolutely, completely and utterly terrified of having this third child? Oy.

A Cameo from the nephew....

As I was spending Easter with family yesterday my Brother and Sister-in-law reminded me of a funny Spring Break moment. We all were able to travel to Utah for Spring Break this year, be together and ski. Yes, I'm pregnant, and yes, I skied. OH THE HORROR! I don't follow rules well, what's new. Anyway, at night, if I made it past the hour of 8 pm, we would watch tv or a movie together. This particular night, my oldest nephew aka the pre-teener, went downstairs to watch something he wanted to watch. I had made a little pallet on the floor for Sophia and decided I'd lay down with her as well. But as I'm laying there I think, hmmm, a few pillows sure would be nice. I say "where is an extra pillow?". To which my Brother and SIL reply "oh you can go to our room and get one, we have a lot on the bed." Great. Downstairs I go. I knock on the door since I knew the nephew was in and say "are there any spare pillows in here?" After all, I don't want to just barge in and demand a pillow having been already told they were in fact in there. I'm looking at him lounging on the bed, watching tv, with each arm out to the side in a "t" position and he says matter of factly "not in here". Dumbfounded I thought, hmmm, but he's laying against 6 pillows. S-I-X pillows. At that moment I'm in a bit of shock as to how to proceed and just slowly and quietly shut the door. I go back upstairs empty handed and say, well, I asked him for a pillow and he replied there weren't any in there. It was seriously, one of the funniest pre-teen boy encounters I believe I've had. As he's laying there like a King on the fluffiest SIX pillows I had ever seen and I'm just wishing I had one, I couldn't help but laugh. Apparently, I need to branch out blogging about other kids too because that was hilarious. And for the record, shortly after, I was given a pillow. :)

We're having a baby......again

So all of these posts should make sense now, as to why my child continues to be a Jenny Craig advocate. I'm not just getting fat, I'm growing a baby. Again. We have been dying to tell our daughters for a while, but didn't want to go through what we went through last year. Here is my story:

End of January I was in a bootcamp and getting in shape....but had to stop when suddenly....I was going through my early spring cleaning phase and cleaning out closets and rooms. As I came into the bathroom, I discovered a pregnancy test. I had absolutely no reason to take one, but who doesn't love peeing on a stick for fun. I found one opened, but not taken, from who knows when or how long ago. So, curiosity killed the cat and there I went to pee on it. Do you think I expected what was to come? No sir-e-bob. Two days "early" if you know what I mean, two blue lines popped up as fast and as dark as could be. And yes, I ripped open the test to look closer at the paper because I was in disbelief.

However, I was in complete denial and thought, well isn't that interesting....but no way that's possible. No.Way.Possible. We were pretty busy that day, so I just informed the Husband that we need to stop at the store for a test because we needed to see what was going on. And with a shocked panicked look, he had no words. Later that night I had picked up some digital tests, after all, who needs to obsess over lines, no lines, plus signs, no plus signs....I mean it's more confusing than your friggin' taxes. Just give me a straight answer. Pregnant or Not Pregnant. And again, the dang test pops up a "pregnant" within a minute.

The least amount of time it "can show up". WHAT!?!?!!? Pregnant? How? When? What the.....so I tell the Husband who then says "well, ok". I guess after the 5th time announcing "babe, I'm pregnant", it loses its luster. And the craziest part? I found out exactly a year from my surgery of the ectopic pregnancy in January 2011. Talk about a sign. Dave says I was on a conference call with God, but failed to buzz him in on it. The beginning was no easy ride, in fact, some days were completely scary. Thus the decision to wait to tell the Instigator, who surely has informed her entire elementary school by now, and the Silent Assassin, who I'm sure will come up with some way to tell everyone.....that is when she realizes or cares about what's about to happen to her baby status. So over our ski trip to Utah last week with our family, we told our daughters. The week before she found out, Rylee came to me one morning and said "Mommy, I talked to God last night and asked for a brother, and he said YES!".....



So here I am.....or was last week. Growing too quickly for my liking, but I guess that's what 5 pregnancies will do to ones body.

And here is our little baby.

So that's it. Here we go again. Think and pray your blue-est thoughts and prayers. I don't want to know the gender, but sadly, I've been outnumbered in my household. So we will know in t-minus 9 weeks!

Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig.....whatever

I think Sophia needs to be a weight loss advocate. The girl will set you straight in no time. I'm cooking dinner the other night, a nice whole wheat spaghetti and turkey meat with homemade sauce and salad mind you, and the child says....."mommy" (as if in disgust) "LOOK at your tummy." About that time Rylee comes around the corner and says, what's wrong with it? I say, it's sticking out. Rylee, now quickly turning in to my little angel who really, genuinely cares about feelings, says as she sticks hers out as far as it goes "like this?" I said, yep, like that. She says "well, maybe just a little". That's a better delivery than Sophia's blow. But Sophia goes on to disagree and say "nope, it's a fat tummy." I mean, what would the child do if I was truly obese? I certainly don't mean that in a derogatory manner towards those who are overweight, but she sure is in tune with when my stomach is "no longer a fat tummy" vs "a fat tummy". Who needs bikini pics of yourself positioned correctly around the house? Who needs a picture of a cow or pig on the fridge to make you steer clear? Nobody when you have Sophia around. So I warn you now, if ever my child is around and says something to you, take it with a grain of salt and wear your big girl (or boy) panties. She's brutal.

Maybe I should join Jenny Craig?

It's been one week over a year since I had my surgery last year, the ectopic pregnancy. I thought it was going to be a very hard month, but I pulled through surprisingly well. Let me get to the point, the other day Rylee, as she randomly does here and there, decides that we're going to "have a brother". Bless her heart, last year when we lost the baby she basically said "that's ok, we can just go get another one". As if they're just on display and for sale next to the peanut butter and jelly. Ah, that one looks good, bathe him, we'll take him! :) Silly girl. Anyway, I've had some stomach issues and pain lately and I've been working from home and seeing my Dr. The other day she says, "did you work from home?" I told her yes, she asked why and I said, well, because my stomach still hurts. She says to me "I know why", I look at her as if she's my Dr. who has just come in for results and she says "it's because you're having a brother!" Man, she's relentless. I say, nope, sorry, but thanks for the diagnosis. So that night we say to Sophia, hey sissy, do you want mommy to have a baby? She says "NO!!!". I laugh and say "sissy wants one, why not?"......she says, and I quote "Because you'll get a biiiiig faaaaaat tummy!". It was just one week ago that she said to me "heeeeey, Mommy, you don't have a fat tummy anymore!" Wow, is there something I'm missing? Has she learned my behaviors? She is so concerned with my weight. No need to post an old bikini pic of myself on the fridge for motivation. No. No need to put out my old "skinny" pants and shorts to remind me to go on that run, no no! Just ask your 3 year old how you look and she'll gladly fill you in. Shoot, good thing that's all I apparently have going on because I'd hate to see what she thinks of my hair or clothes! Guess I should thank her for looking out for me. I'm off.....to research weight watchers, jenny craig, or sign up for the Biggest Loser. Silly girl....

She's a bit high maintenance....

Like mother like daughter has really, taken on an all new meaning. When I had our first daughter, I thought, oh Lord, paybacks are hell. Then, I had another one. Little did I know. I'm a firm believer in karma, or reaping what you sow, or what have you. And man am I getting it back 5 fold. I had plenty of corner moments. You know, "Alison, go stand in the corner!".....and my children don't know the meaning of that. Once, they learned it at Grammy's, but it's funny how it isn't as enforced as a grandchild. So that leaves me to do the parenting. Ho hum. So far this morning Sophia has called me stupid and stuck her tongue out at me. Don't worry, it didn't go unpunished. The Instigator sure tested her limits, but this one has a sharp tongue. She's a little stinker. Which brings me to the actual point of today's entry. Each morning, she steals my coffee. I started making her decaf when I realized she actually likes the stuff. Shoot, it took finals and a few all nighters in college to finally drink a cup. (and when I say a few all nighters, I literally mean, just a few.....maybe I didn't study hard enough). Since then I'm thinking I should either Franchise a Starbucks or at least purchase some stock. And Sophia is quickly following suit. The child loves a latte. She loves it black. She loves it anyway she can take it. I can just see it now, she's 16 in line for her morning coffee before school and she stands there and spouts out the most ridiculous order......"tall, nonfat, soy, half caff, vanilla latte, extra shot".....HA. And Dave thought it was going to be clothes and shoes that were the end of our finances......Lord help me.

We have real life Willy Wonka's

So not only do my children look just like their Daddy, although I so graciously shared my body for 9+ months with each of them, but they also take after him in the candy eating department. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for a good box of Dots on a rainy day or Milk Duds at the movies, but I certainly don't need to buy it like we have stock in it. Wine, however....well, that's another story. These girls have been known to be dead asleep and hear the rattling of a candy bag or wrapper and sit up and say "I WANT SOME!". Shoot, if you go in and kiss them goodnight after eating a sweet tart they sit up and *sniff sniff* - Did you have a purple sweet tart? WHAT?!?! How do they do that? I have told Dave numerous times that he needs to become a closet candy eater because these girls are going to have some serious dental problems, but he doesn't listen. Dinner time alone has become a series of negotiations worse than selling and buying a home for how many bites we must eat until we get this said candy. I suppose this could be a gift that they have. Maybe we should buy stock in candy or open up our own Wonka Factory? Ohhhh, we could hire some oompa loompa's!! Okay okay, so that's a bit crazy. But surely there is something they can do with this gift. Today I caught Sophia in the dining room while I was making her lunch. I said three times "Sophia, get out of the dining room"....after all there is a massive amount of breakable glass in that room....yet she never budged. Finally I walk in, find her under the table and she's eating chewy jolly ranchers! So now, I have finally achieved the closet candy eater, but just not with the person I told to do so. If ever you find a golden ticket in your chocolate bar, it could be from me. I think that candy making may be our calling. Guess I shouldn't fight it anymore......

How long did I sleep?

Apparently I have a teenage girl and I didn't know it. In the last week, the following has happened with the Instigator. And she's not yet 6.

1 - After getting bags of clothes from our neighbor as hand me downs (thanks Leigha!) she decided one morning to try on the "bigger" ones. She came out with a big Hollister t-shirt (although saying "big" to a Hollister tshirt is an oxymoron)....and she also had on something that she thought was shorts that say "cheer" on the rear. I'm thinking these were/are really panties. Anyway, she has her shirt hanging off of her shoulder, tied up on one side with a rubberband and the cheer "shorts". I say, oh, I see you found the bag of clothes?!?!? She said yes, I want more shirts like......as she pulls it off her shoulder more. She's got another thing comin' if she thinks I'm going to allow her out of the house lookin' like that!!

2 - Just as I get over the tshirt incident thinking, oh that's funny, she informs her Pawpaw, and me and Daddy while overhearing this phone conversation, that she is in fact dating a boy. A teenage boy and he's 18 and they "go out". WHAT? Dave immediately says "you better not be or we're going to have some problems"......and I do know she is speaking of Kendall from Big Time Rush, aka BTR, but I do prefer that she doesn't broadcast this information.

3 - I'm sitting at morning assembly today and sat next to her friend's Dad. I didn't realize I had been sitting by him until he says "I hear Rylee has a birthday coming up".....I said, she does! He says to me "M came home telling me that Rylee is having a party and there will be teenagers there", to which a good Dad responded with "ummm, then you're not going". I had to clarify that she meant that she wants to have a few of the local Drill Team girls (Cavalettes) come and teach the girls a little routine and perform for the parents, thus the "teenagers".

How will I ever survive the real teenage years? She already rolls her eyes, tells me "that's embarassing" and asked me the other day where her bra was. (Grammy bought that one for her, not me)......holy monkey, where's the tylenol.

New Year, New Post, New Potty?

Another year gone. Where does the time go? I wonder what 2012 will bring.....surely more comedy from the girls. We wrapped up the end of the year and went out with a bang for the holidays. But now it's time to move on and today, I'd like to discuss the art of potty training. What is it about the potty that doesn't appeal to this child? Rylee was done with ease shortly after 2. Yet the Silent Assassin, in true Silent Assassin form, finds every nook and cranny of the house to do her business in a pull up then proceed to tell me about it. If you KNOW you have to go, just tell me for Pete sake. (who is Pete and why is it for his sake?).....anyway, I've tried the special singing potty, a potty that looks like a frog (why a frog, is that more interesting to pee on?), I've tried candy, an arsenal of m&m's, gummy bears, hershey's kisses....shoot we've even resorted to promising 100 bones should she decide in a month she will be diaper free. No dice. Let me just say that I'm sick of supporting pampers and their multi billion dollar business of poo catchers. I know she won't get married this way, let's hope, or she may not get married. But o.m.g. let's do this thing! Her allergies prevent us from being able to really attack the numero dos department, I'll spare those details, but surely a little sprinkle in the froggy is possible. So, I simply leave it at if you have any magical mystery tips on how to get this child to give up these poo catchers from hell, please do share. Oh, and let me just note we've done the whole "just put her in panties" thing.....it's messy, she doesn't care and if you know how OCD we are, this is just not a good solution, but thanks.

Side note, I bought a Bissell Little Green and I've been in Heaven. It's like cleaning heaven in a little plastic contraption. Two thumbs up Bissell, two thumbs up.