Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Down on The Claude Moore Colonial Farm

Today I am back on the horse. Some time between last night's good sleep and this morning's gift of being awakened after 6pm, I found my game face.

Drove myself and the kids to Claude Moore Colonial Farm after breakfast and we had a fantastic time! I highly recommend going because how often can you go back in time (1771 to be exact), tromp around on someone else's farm, watch as they tend to their tobacco crops and chicken coup while also blowing the entire charade by taking pictures with your cell phone? All the farm workers were dressed the part and completely ensconced in their character. We met "Mary" who was barefoot because shoes were so expensive yet donning about eight layers of clothing because, well, apparently skin was not in 239 years ago. Then we met Mary's "aunt" down the path who was boiling up home grown potatoes, onions, cabbage, and gnocchi. Just kidding about the gnocchi although I really wanted to slip her a case of Lawry's Seasoned salt to blow her mind. She was so into her character that after letting us handle some puffs of wool they traded with fresh vegetables (wool people got the short stick if you ask me) she politely inquired to Grayson whether or not we kept sheep on our farm. He was mute. I could hear his brain though and it said, "No dammit, we do not have sheep on our farm. We don't even have a freaking farm. Hey Mom, you have some explaining to do."

Awesome, "Mary's" "aunt", thanks a whole lot. Now I want sheep and a farm.

I felt like a cross between Laura Ingalls' distant time traveling cousin and Roseanne Barr. It was all lovely strange, oddly charming, and amazingly peaceful. I seriously want to go back tomorrow but this time bring my lap saw and wooden mallet so I can play too.

Our Day on the Farm:

Grayson finds geese with his trusty Diego -wait, maybe Dora?- like map.

Abby & Grayson peek at livestock. Grayson has death grip on his new BFF, The Map.

Livestock mentioned one sentence ago. Hogs are kind of cute if you ask me. Godzilla is kind of cute if you ask me so I'm not entirely reputable on this topic.

A 1771 potato, onion, cabbage with no salt throw down. Complete with pecky chickens.

Abby lost in thought. Actually something was in her shoe but it made for a poetic picture.

Woolly and wild berries. We didn't eat any or we didn't eat any on purpose more accurately.

Christopher Columbus & his muse.

The coveted spotting of a milk cow. Or a bull? Does a milk cow have horns? Can a cow who must be a girl cow to produce milk have horns or should I retake 7th grade biology?

Grayson totally looks like Pop here. The uncanniness is killing me. Abby's bored. That's funny too for multiple reasons.

About face.

Wandering back the path on which we came.

"What's in here?"

Hopefully a seamstress.

And a shoesmith.

Speaking of which...I love this parting shot because those are my husband's flip flops and today is his birthday. I wore them all day long in homage of him because that's how I roll. It's like wearing his T shirt to bed but the married-less-romantic-kind-of-gross-b/c it's feet-version of sweet. Happy Birthday Honey, I walked in your shoes all day. Now go mow the grass.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

At Random

My thoughts are scattered.

They appear random much like this photo. It's not really a picture of Abby. Not really a picture of the bottle or container of watermelon. Not even really a picture but more of a snippet in time of things that were going on just then (apparently we were expecting an important phonecall and newsflash: Grayson still doesn't eat the crust.)

Hoped I could shake these random thoughts linear before sitting down to type but no such luck.

Therefore, no choice but to share the flowchart that is my brain. I will warn you that unless we've met in person and have carried on multiple face-to-face conversations where you can hear my tangents coming from miles away in my eyes that are reading your mouth instead of looking into your eyes, you probably won't be able to follow this. If you can and we haven't? Consider yourself my soulmate.

This Morning's Frontal Lobe & Emotions:
Out running errands and time for a pick me up: Starbucks Drive-Thru where I can go decaf but still latte-----> mmmmm....roasted coffee beans -----> What? Artisan plates with grapes, cheese slices, wheat bagel and peanut butter - all yay - SO much healthier than You Know Who's Happy Meals and finally no more useless plastic toys in the recycle bin!= Overjoyed

Later in the day after nobody naps: Pool not Crowded ---->Chat w/Pool Manager ------>Register Grayson up for swim lessons on the spot ----> 8:30 am & we're not morning people ------> Holy crap, what did I just do?= Scared

This Afternoon's Parietal Lobe & Perception:
Still at pool and having pool thoughts: Lots of twentysomethings with toddlers here at the pool today---->All staring at their blackberries---->Probably not catching up on the latest CNN headlines.-----> Not one of them being referred to as "Mom" or "Mommy" or even "Aunt Sue"-----> They're all nannies!! = Pride in myself for rocking the SAHMness which appears to be a dying profession.

(Later) This afternoon's Occipital Lobe & Visual Processing:
Home now and moving slower than what should be humanly possibly: Hey, what's that on the kitchen floor? I just cleaned that floor ----> Abby's not wearing a diaper----> She is squatting weird -----> Wow, that sure isn't chocolate = Early Bathtime & Self Flogging

All Day Long- Temporal Lobe & Memory:
Mental Checklist: Buy milk & don't I dare forget brownies----> check.
Find sporting good's store from memory and not GPS ----> check.
New shoes for the kids ----> imminent future check. (order online tonight b/c above store did not carry kids' sizes.)
Find Grayson's sunglasses ----> oooh, already did that, they were in stroller. retro check.
Water flowers that aren't dead yet by some miracle of the heavens---> checka one two.
Deposit $, Balance $, Save $-----> check, check, and working on that last check.
Change Snapper's ooey gooey tank ----> checka checka checkaaah.
Feed everybody INCLUDING myself which has been a real problem as of late---> checkity check check (see above about brownies and milk).
Fold warm laundry before cold permanent creases make me insane with regret & an inability to micromanage myself down to the nanosecond----> c.h.e.c.k.
Speaking of wrinkles, call landlord to "iron out" (too cute? sorry.) AC situation once and for all, amen to that, can I get a witness? ----> checkahhhhhhh(vibratoooo0)aahhhhh check!
Drop off husband's uniforms at dry cleaners ----> check'ers.
Husband - CRAP! - husband bday is tomorrow & I forgot a card (we don't exchange gifts on bdays but cards are a must)----> check minus minus minus.

Overall Cerebellum & Life Balance:

Monday, June 28, 2010

Day of Leave

After a spectacularly busy weekend of travel to celebrate Nammy & Pop's surprise 40th wedding anniversary, we are taking a day to recoop and recalibrate. I'm nursing two kiddos with colds and fever (Abby mostly) while Grayson's nursing me (because I'm an idiot and had some lukewarm shrimp that I knew I should not have eaten.) He keeps asking who's going to take care of him and Abby if I don't make it through the next round. Evidently, he has Miss Shaylyn (*the babysitter) all lined up should I expire in the bathroom. Hope she's back from college in time.

Will be back tomorrow with stories and pictures.

Thanks for stopping in today. For your efforts, I shall repay you with this picture of what we will be doing for most of the afternoon in case you gave me too much credit and pictured me doing anything but lazing around here.

P.S. AC is broken again so we're either A.) lobbying landlords for a new AC unit or B.) house shopping by Wednesday. Keep you posted!

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

SuperMan of Three

Three years old
can't contain you:
& heart
Three's being forced
at the seams to
release you
but not gingerly so.

Crash! You race in to
Boom! You break in to
Shwwwp! You fly through the air
with Spiderman's ease
Superman's face
Wolverine's fearsome stare

You're the unlikeliest of superheroes
The SuperMan of Three
The one who has manners
The one who protects us
The one fighting bad guys
in his dreams

Such a big boy you're turning into
We're swelling out with pride,
(bursting at our own seams)
because you have manners
because such devotion
because the kindest we've seen.

My breathe catches deep
inside my chest
when you look to see
those eyes
such truth, such life,
such honor
so beholden on to me

"Mommy, lay here and tell me stories,
Which one do you like best?
Where do fireflies go in winter?
Will you miss me when I'm a man?"

Oh how I'll miss you, my little boy,
my darlingest of thieves
you stole my heart in two seconds flat,
right from under me.
Now here you are so pure & wondrous
for all the world to see
I'll hold that hand of yours tomorrow
until you fall asleep.

Then one day I'll release you
I'll be forced to know
You'll be ready, you'll be him then
That man into whom you'll grow
The one you speak of?
Living independently?
I won't see him standing there,
I'll see my SuperMan of Three.


There is one of us who couldn't be happier the air conditioning was fixed as of yesterday.

AC is critical for a princess' beauty sleep and airing out her tail feathers.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Backyard Babysitters

Yesterday we didn't even leave the backyard to find the world's most convenient babysitters. While I wouldn't be able to catch Knight & Day or a bite at a restaurant without a drive-thru, these three occupied my children like they were every bit paid the 500 dollars an hour it really costs in real life (you know, the one I don't have because who the bleep has that kind of cash?!?!) So, until my next shipment of opium comes in, these guys will have to do. Here, let me introduce you.


First we have Silverado the Slug. He has patience, intrigue, and silver mucus with properties of Super Glue, detangler, and rhinovirus B2. A bit of a social leper but so vastly misunderstood. He entertained the kids for hours with his alien ability to turn one side of his body into a gaping hole that winked and then squirted "hair gel" all over himself for another road trip. Grayson begged me to hold him too. I was squeamish but caved. Then felt itchy later. I would definitely ask Silverado back. And leave popcorn.


Next there is Eloise the Earthworm. She is a lot more energetic and fun. Her flexibility with the children impressed me the most. The way she cut herself in half (after Grayson pinched her) to be with both kids at once really went above and beyond. I would most definitely ask her back to sit if there is anything left of her whatsoever. I'd stock the fridge with lots of chocolate pudding. And leave band-aids.

You can't see him but Barnaby the Beetle made a cameo appearance as well. I actually think he and Eloise are an item but she was too embarrassed to be caught on the job with her boyfriend so she asked him to scram. He is hard to get to know, kind of a tough exterior especially when capsized and repeatedly forced to flip himself over with legs that seem to have no joints. Eloise is one lucky girl. Barnaby is no longer permitted in the house. Grayson won't entertain the notion that beetles and earthworms need love to. Abby's cool with it as long as she gets to take pictures. This concerns me a little.

There you have it. If you're ever stuck for a sitter all you have to do is open your back door and get down. There are plenty around this time of year. All you need is a keen eye and a dragonfly net. A little happy table dance in your undies doesn't hurt either.

Monday, June 21, 2010

Sticky Note

Sunday was a doozy, ya'll.

Father's Day, my birthday, I get sick (never happens), canceled our party (always happens), one week of no air conditioning in middle of a heat wave, no back up plan for the day. It was killer.

About noon, something in me snapped. I can't be sure but it kind of smelled like my will to survive.

So I excused myself for an hour. Didn't want Target, didn't want iced coffee, didn't even want to drive around aimlessly looking for yard sales. All I wanted was to drive to a Four Seasons and sleep in pillows for 3 hours straight but since that wasn't an option, I went back home before too long.

Then I found this:

and knew I married the one and only man who could turn a wee sticky note into an epic love letter.

Happy Birthday to me.
Happy Father's Day to him.
We both made out like banshees.

Saturday, June 19, 2010

Fear the Dragon

Most of the time I'm a pretty good mom. Some of the time I'm a great mom. There is the single digit occasion I'm the mom I want to be. Lately, however I've been the Dragon mom. Not sure if it's timing (achem), temperature (declared a state of emergency on the 2nd floor of our home 5 minutes ago) or just your general run of the mill fatigue. Whatever the case, I've been so irritable and negative that just last night my husband kicked me out of the door mid-mommy meltdown while I tried to feed Abby her dinner (alphabet soup and buttered toast as if it is January, poor thing). It went something like this:

Me: Abby, I give up. I cannot make you three different dinners tonight. I'm all done. Done. Done. Done.

Abby: Gaeesh! Joooooce. Sadish?

Me: Whatever. I'm over it. I cannot do this short order cook gig morning, noon, and ....

Husband: Just leave. Now.

My Car: Vrooooooooooooooom.

I hate that my poor children are left with this Helamonster by 6pm. I also can't stand that my husband comes home to green gills and a scaly tongue (almost literally). My dog? Well, let's just say I wouldn't be surprised to find a Playboy poster covering a hole in the drywall she's been digging to escape from this nightmare since early June. Ugh and oh. Momma said there'd be days like this. There are days like this, this momma says.

My brain keeps dreaming of the Bahamas. Mind you, I've never been to the Bahamas. I've never even been to California. Lately, I've not been much farther than the baby pool but my mind keeps taking me to this amazing make-believe beach with translucent water lapping at my feet. There are cabanas. There are people wearing white linen. There are painted toes and lots of smiling. There is nobody asking for a thing from me. There is nobody who wants or needs me as soon as I step into the shower. There is only me, a good book, and a comforting ocean between myself and the horrible, nasty, mood-altering Dragon mom. Which is awesome. Cause I hate that B.

Friday, June 18, 2010

Pop Has a Girlfriend

But she looks an awful lot like Nammy so I think it's okay.

(P.S. I know it's true love because she's the only one who gets to call him "Papa.")

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Going Green

In an effort to save the earth from more hot air poisoning its atmosphere, I've compiled a list of things I will no longer say to my children. Because really, it doesn't benefit anyone, least of all Al Gore.

1.) Stop that. OR - Stop that right now. OR - Stop that or I'm going to sing that Sugarland song you dislike so much...with full on twang and Tomato Basil Wheat Thin breath.

2.) What do you want for dinner? I think in all honesty, this is a rhetorical question because I am not making Salt Cheese with Peanut Butter Frosting (again).

3.) Where is your other shoe? - This phrase is gasoline for your turbo engines that inspires you both to run concentric circles around the dog, the car, or the house itself in a fake effort to round up missing shoe that was last seen in/around/near none of the places you are actually searching. It is always in a toy basket (at the bottom of it to be more precise). One time the fireplace but that was the exception, not the rule.

4.) Do you have to go to the bathroom? - To Grayson- Although it's hard to ignore the possibility that you could in fact pinch off your boy parts with that lock you have on your male member, you maintain that you do not have to go. Right. See you in the laundry room with your soggy shorts in 5. To Abby still in diapers - I love that you answer this question with the word "poopie?" no matter when I ask.

5.) Okay, Goodnight! - This phrase alone has probably contaminated the ozone on more levels than any metal factory or smoggy city combined. By being repeated at minimum 15 times per night, a more accurate phrase would be, "Okay, I'm going to be a pawn in your game of Stallopoly and stand here answering questions about Batman and yogurt pops until So You Think You Can Dance comes on."

6.) Come here. - They never do.

7.) Who wants ice cream? - Simply put, has to be the dumbest question ever. Anyone under age 4 ever said "No" to this question in the history of time?

8.) Anyone fed the dog? - Anyone feed the fish? Anyone pay the bills? Anyone apply for your own college scholarship? No Sweet Cheeks, they are babies. Generally speaking three year olds and 18 monthers are not responsible for much more than their sippy cups and snack packs. Man up, Sunshine.

9.) I'm so tired. - They know.

10.) You guys stay down here because Mommy has to run upstairs for 30 seconds. - What the kids and dog hear: PLEASE COME WITH ME... I CANNOT BE WITHOUT YOU FOR THAT DURATION OF TIME, there is absolutely NO way I will find my earrings, perfume, or sandals without you. Probably mostly due to the fact that you hid them all while I was feeding the dog, looking for your other shoe and complaining about how tired I am.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

June 16

When I was 18, I can remember asking my grandfather what it felt like to be 80. His response was startling. He always told me the truth, or the truth as he saw it so I had no reason to believe we was screwing with me now. He told me his body was not in accordance with his mind. He explained to me that his mind was not a day over 18 or 25 or 32 but his body felt more like 75 or 68 at best.

"But not 80?" I asked.

"No, not 80. I'm not that old yet," he laughed even though technically it was his birthday. The candles on the birthday cake ratted him out: Eight. Zero. He was that old yet.

"So if your mind is a few years behind your body then you're golden. You'll never feel as old as you are."

"I suppose. It's just a shame the two are in such disagreement."

"Why so?" (I know now where my son gets all the nosy.)

"Well," my grandfather took his time to coax the right words out, "then I wouldn't be like a young man trapped inside an old broken down vessel. I would feel as tired as my body is and there wouldn't be this sense of dissonance," that last word lingered and stung my ears.

"So you're in dissonance?"

"Yes. Yes, I am."

"Happy UNbirthday then."

"Thanks, smartass."

"Don't mention it, Hooligan."


So today, on June 16, 2010 I wish you a most Happy UNbirthday, Boomps. I hope you're in total harmony up there in heaven feeling like a spry twenty, thirty, or forty something while also getting to behave like one. And no, we won't tell Boompa. She's with Mr. Sinatra anyway. She gets to be in harmony too.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Body Image & Imagination

The other day something disturbing happened while we were at the pool. Not earthquake shattering (oh west coast, how do you do it?) disturbing but it bothered me enough to hang on to it for a few days.

While sitting with Abby at a picnic table, I noticed two girls sitting one table over. They were in their early teens and waiting patiently for break time to be over in the deep end so they could go for a swim. In true teen fashion, they chattered busily about a small group of boys just out of earshot. Then the lifeguard's whistle blew. One girl peeled off her tank to reveal a modest and rather tasteful (for a 13 year old) bikini. She threw her jean shorts to the ground and skittered off to meet the group of boys who were pretending to kick invisible dirt off the cement tiles.

The second girl stayed behind. She lingered painfully back and I could practically feel the tension emanating from her tall frame. She fittered with the fringe of her tank top. She smoothed her already straight shorts. I even caught a glimpse of her fixing an imaginary shoelace on her flip flops. She was stalling.

"Oh Honey," I wanted so badly to tell her, "don't worry so much."

Her friend called impatiently to her. The boys gave her a wave and she stood almost trembling at this point. She had no choice but to go in. She gave her hips a few pats as if she could physically push back in whatever she imagined to be out of place. My heart was breaking. This girl was not only beautiful by virtue of social norms but she was also anything but fat. She was lean, strong, and naturally toned. She was a lot taller and more athletic than her counterpart but I would bet my lunch money she was the girl that those boys were really waiting to see.

"I like your suit." I wanted to say. "If only I could look like you." I tried that one in my head too but it sounded old and pathetic and well, just creepy coming from a tired mom with her baby. Nothing short of telling her she was young and beautiful came to my mind to reassure her that there was truly nothing to worry about. But she wouldn't have believed me. Somewhere along her road of growing up someone made her feel less than worthy for being herself. It might have been all the One Tree Hills or new 90210s selling skinny and emaciated like it's a mandatory brand if you're under childbearing years. Who knows where the insecurities start but it broke my heart to watch this physically gorgeous little supermodel not know the measure of her worth- both inside and out- for whatever reason.

She did manage to make it over to the pool to meet up with her friends. But she also managed to keep her shirt on over her bathing suit as her safety blanket. She didn't need that safety blanket and I just wish I could've come up with a sisterly, or hell, motherly way of showing her that truth. It's obvious she doesn't appreciate what she has in youth and beauty alone and I want her to before having children (if she chooses that route) really will change her body. I want her to feel secure, happy, and lovely at this crucial time in her life when self confidence matter most. I know she sees things that aren't there, flaws that are manifested, and a sense of perfect that is just out of reach. I know this because I always wore the shirt too.

Friday, June 11, 2010

My Little Retiree

There is something far too tempting about dressing an 18 month old like her inverse: an 81 year old. Is there not?

If this suit came with a sleeve of Fig Newtons and a Redskin's mug it would be my grandmother reincarnate.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Heavy Breathing & Karma

A Story for Thursday entitled -

Heavy Breathing & Karma

Once upon a Thursday morning, I get up early & miraculously negotiate everyone dressed, clean, and out the door on time. The drive goes well. Abby laughs a new laugh. Grayson shares his waterless water gun with her. We all sing, "Weeeee" as we snake along the fun windy road to the gym. Without flailing about like an Emmy award winning actor, Abby even lets me drop her and her stoic faced brother off at the sitters exactly by 10:30. This day has to have some kind of catalyst. I am about to find it.

By the time I hit the gym, there is only me, two other women, and a young man doing some crazy fly treatment on his arms with free weights. I smile at anyone who lifts their gaze and bounce right onto my favorite treadmill.

Since I don't stretch (because stretching is for patient people and I'm not one of them this week. This year. This life. I'm patient with things when I have the time to be patient with them but I'm pretty sure that negates the definition altogether but I digress...) I'm off and running slowly at 2.7 mph, then 3.6 mph, then 3.9, finally 4.5 all within the first five minutes (see above on impatience).

I am sweating and no longer quite able to read the subtitles to Kathy & Koda easily so give up and move on to listening to some music on my ipod. Ahhhh, soon all I can hear is my own uneven breathing and Kelly Clarkson.

"Because of you, I never stray too far on the sidewalk..." I touch the "up" speed button.

"Because of you, I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt." I feel ya, woman. Preach on it, Girl. I tap "up" some more until it reads 5.2mph.

"Because of you, I find it hard to trust not only me but everyone around me," I KNOW, RIGHT?!?!? I don't trust anyone around me either, I totally love you. We should be BFFS. I wonder if you like tabbouleh. I'm pretty sure I'm singing out loud by this point. 5.6mph

"Because of youuuu...I am afraid.....Because of youuuuuu." Aiiihhhhhhhhhhh,
Aaaeeiiiiihhhhaaaahhh...Because of youuuuuuu....
And I'm singing what I think is softly to myself but between the tiny wads of metal stuck in my ears and all the heavy breathing going on in my nearly collapsing airways, it's hard to tell. The ladies behind me continue their conversation so I shrug off my mini concert and fast forward to Pink.

"If someone said three years from now, you'd be long gone. I'd stand up and punch them out cuz they're all wrong. I know better, cuz you said forever, and ever... who knew?" Who knew? Wasn't me, that's who. Who freaking knew you'd be long gone? You suck because you said you'd stick around and now you're gone. Who KNEW I inside scream to Pink's ex-husband, Tony Hawk?!? What am I all revved up about? Inhale 2, 3, 4, Exhale, 2, 3, 4, inhale.....I stare at my shoes that are now pounding the treadmill so hard the entire beast of us is quivering under all the stomping. The heart shaped charm on my necklace takes on a life of its own in the blank TV's reflection. My arms square off from right to left like a metronome keeping time for the ridiculous breathing happening from my own mouth. Heeee heeeeeee. Whhhhh. Whhhhhh. Heeeeee. Heeeee. Whhhhhhhh. Whhhhhhhh. I am a Nike commercial in my own mind. Woman Warrior of the Basement Gym!!!! 6.3mph.

35 minutes later I'm a human salt lick and sweat is diving onto the floor beneath my elbows. One of the ladies who had been carrying on a conversation with another lady has now gone solo and is walking quickly on a neighboring treadmill. She is trying not to look at me but I can see her eyeballs putting up a fight in the corner of her face. I remove my earphones and commence a very much needed cool down.

"Sorry if I was loud. I was kind of working through some things there," I say enjoying my anonymity but also in an attempt to make small talk and explain why I was hulking out on the poor innocent workout gear.

"Yeah," she says uninterested. "Is your son in preschool by any chance?"

"Umm, no. Not yet. He starts in the fall. Are you a teacher?"

"Yes. I thought you looked familiar. Did you come to Open House last night?"

"No. I wanted to but I didn't have a sitter for the kids."

"What's your son's name?"


"Yes, I remember that name on my class roster."

"Really? He's in your class?"

"Is he in the 3 year old class?"

"Yes, he sure is."

"Then he's in my class," she says with a sunny smile and a nod of her great yellow head of hair.

"It's such a pleasure to meet you. I'm much calmer in real life. You know, in mom life. I just go nuts here so I can know....get it all out so I don't take it out on the....(Oh God, I'm sounding more and more like a maladjusted felon every second.)" I trail off and honestly can't figure out whether to run to the nearest phone and dis-enroll him from her class that second just to avoid further contact with this nice teacher or to simply face the music to which I re-enacted with gusto in public like a complete moron in headphones.

"It's okay. I understand. I have three boys."

Thank you, Kelly and Pink. You two almost got my kid kicked out of preschool before he even started.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

The Momentary Outsider

As a mom there are very few times you get to disengage from things but still be present. The kids cling, the dog circles, the husband defers to your judgment. You're still the person unable to separate clear thought from immediate reaction because you're still the mom. I've grown to see that this is part blessing, part curse to hardly ever be able to watch your family as an outsider or an objective observer. The blessing is the obvious. Moms are integral and are depended on as such. The curse is not always so obvious. It's the inability to unzoom and see things for what they really are, not clouded by your parenteral too close-up periscope.

On Sunday, we took the kids and dog to a great big beautifully distracting lake. I snuck a few times away from the center. It was awesome.

These images help me appreciate the fruits of our labor.

On these rare occasions I get to step out onto the periphery, I see clearly how my life is so much bigger than rinsing out Ziplocs, scraping off Kool-Aid barnacles from chairs, and finding 250 different ways to turn chicken breasts inevitably into nuggets.

And sometimes? It's even nice to jump back into the fold knowing they rely on it and expect nothing less.

The Proof is in the Eyeball

Proof that the Hundred Acre Wood really does exist.

Monday, June 7, 2010

Identity Crisis

I know. My blog and I are going through something. Hang in there with us while we make some upgrades. (In truth? The old background looked an awful lot like chocolate covered candies which always gave me the munchies and that's not at all what I need when I'm already sitting on my booteesta not increasing my heart rate.)

In Questionable Taste

*** Disclaimer- if you're related to me, you might want to skip this post. Just a warning b/c the next few sentences could make you a tad bit uncomfortable. If you're all about bygones, then by all means...

Scene: Driving back home from running errands. Kids fading in carseats. Max & Ruby theme song still playing in the background.

Husband: That hotel doesn't look all that bad.

Me: Are you trying to get with me?

Husband: The pool looks crowded, can't be that bad of a place.

Me: Are you trying to get with me in a pool?

Husband: Oooh, nice car.

Me: I think that's a motel. Not a hotel. Motels are all one level, ground level, right? HOtels are high rises I think.

Husband: No. It's a hotel. Hoes go to HOtels. It's how I remember it.

Me: It's a motel. Ho. No Mo. It's how I remember it.

Husband: Freak.

Me: Fo Sho.

Friday, June 4, 2010

Morning Reunion

It was a long night without you.

Now get me the heck outta here you...

Okay but don't forget our plan Cupcake...

First, we take down the playroom...

Then, the kitchen pantry...

Finally, The Mommy.

I'm talking total devastation, Doll.

You in?

Never inner.

We make a good team Cupcake, you & me.