Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Why channel 169 makes me feel like a loser...

You want to feel like a complete failure as a mother?

Then watch cartoons with your three year old.

I am drop.dead.serious.

Picture this. My three year old comes joyfully marching up the stairs, and sweetly whispers in my ear, "Wise and shine, mommy!" To which I quickly nudge her father, insisting it is indeed HIS turn to get up with her. When he doesn't even budge, I fall out of bed, put on whatever dirty clothes are lying on the floor, throw my unbrushed hair into a pony tail, and stumble out of the room and into the den.


I grab the remote, turn on some Sesame Street, get my blanket and pull it over my head. It is insanely too early to function.

15 minutes later, I feel yet another nudge. "Mommy, I'm hungry." I think about explaining to her the repercussions of waking a sleeping mommy, but instead say, "there is some dry cereal in the pantry. Go knock yourself out, and mommy will make breakfast in a little bit."


I spend the next 30 minutes falling in and out of sleep, often being awoken by a silly little blonde girl, ready to start the day. When I finally decide enough it enough, I sit up, throw off the blanket, and let out a big sigh.


Of course, I am then met with a killer headache due to the weird concoction my head was in as I attempted to lay on the couch. I reach for some Arnica, a hot cup of coffee, and a 5 hour energy - because Lord knows I am gunna need it.


So who wants to award me Mom of the Year?


When I first learned I was pregnant with Ellie Kate, my lazy boned, overworked, too-tired-to-get-my-butt-off-the-couch persona of a mom was NOT what I had imagined.


I thought I actually might BE mom of the year, and have all the answers, persistence, and patience in the world.


But I quickly learned, that only happens in cartoons.


You see, while laying on the couch, my mind is subtly infiltrated with the cartoons my three year old is watching. Many of them are the same. They are small children of the animal variety, living in small quaint towns, with their cute little families, constantly playing in the sunny backyard while their perfectly put together moms clean, bake, launder, home school, and operate their own nonprofit organizations.


So maybe not the nonprofit organization thing, but I wouldn't put it past 'em.


Cast in point - Olivia.



Olivia is a vibrant little pig, who is constantly using her imagination to create, play, and discover. Her zest for life can get her in trouble often, but by the end of each 15 minute segment, she is back on track to becoming a perfect future adult citizen.


Her mother is oh.so.patient. and never ever loses her temper.


I remember one instance in which Olivia was preparing for a hometown parade complete with drums, horns, and whistles. Olivia's mother had been warning Olivia and her friends to keep it down because William, Olivia's baby brother, was having a hard time napping.


"Oh good, something I can relate to." I thought to myself. But unfortunately, the similarities ended there.


Olivia preceded to awaken her brother several times as she was preparing for her parade, and her mother would calmly speak from the window or back porch, "Olivia, remember dear, William is trying to nap."


About midway through the episode, Olivia's mother had just rocked poor little William to sleep, and was preparing to lay him in his bed when BOOM, Olivia comes busting through the door announcing that her little "bother" (aka, brother Ian), was insisting on being the grand marshall. Of course, William awakens and begins to cry.


Ohhhhh boy, I thought. Olivia is gonna get it this time! I mean, hasn't this happened to all of us?

We moms work for HOURS just to get our kids to sleep, and that pesky salesman rings the door bell, the neighbors dog begins to bark, or one of your DARLING children comes bursting through the door.


"ARE YOU KIDDING ME! I have told you ten times to be quiet because your baby brother is trying to sleep! Have you lost your mind? Go to your room, I am so frustrated!" To which I proceed to sit on the floor and throw myself a pity party.


Isn't that the way every mom would respond?


Well, not Olivia's moms. She quietly sighs, and says, "Oh William, maybe you need some fresh air."


Yeah, OK.


Olivia's mom ain't alone. She has competition for fantasy mom of the year.


Franklin's mommy.



This woman always has the right answer.

She knows how to soothe her fearful child, reprimand bad behavior, and instill wholesome values - all while staying cool, calm, and collected - and baking brownies.

Her house is always spotless, there is never a crumb on the floor, and she always has a well-balanced meal on the table.

They own no TV, and Franklin is a model friend, student, and son, who loves his vegetables.

And to be quite honest, her soft tone makes me want to obey sometimes.

And This one is the real cake topper...



Max and Ruby are a brother and sister who play together and resolve their differences in ways that are respectful and supportive. And all without adult supervision.


Looking for a way to kick a mommy when she is down - make her feel like a 7-year old big sister surpasses her mothering abilities.

No joke.

Ruby is so patient with Max. When she has plans to practice her dance routine with her friends, and he throws mud balls at their recently washed tutus - she smiles and says, "Oh, Max." Or when she has worked all day at baking a cake for their grandmother and Max eats it all when she turns her back - she politely reprimands him, using words like, "be kind, and make a better choice." Why don't those words come to my mind in moments of weaknesses?

On the contrary. During the time it took me to write this post, I have "raised my voice" at least 6 times, and used the words, "this is your last warning," and "are you trying to drive your mother crazy?"

So just in case any of you were planning on nominating me for Mother of the Year - there are clearly better choices out there. Just tune into Nick Jr.

I suppose there is no hope.

Maybe I should animate myself?



Wednesday, September 22, 2010

The Dirt Sisters

Remember when I blogged here about having dreams of a hair-bow wearing, tutu attiring, high-heel strutting little girl, but instead I got a power-tool using, june-bug disecting, grimey fingered Elle Kate?

Well, she has found a recruit...

And boy does she like to get dirty.

And now, they join forces to torture me.


I wonder if there is any hope for their little brother?
Doubtful.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

One Hot Date

It had been a while since Ben and I had gone and spent some quality time together, and we never know how much longer we will have live-in-babysitters, so we took the opportunity to go on a "hot" date this afternoon. Both figuratively and literally.

Figuratively because my husband is a major hottie and he accompanied me on this date. And literally because it was hotter than blazes outside. Isn't is September?

We contemplated the options. Steak Dinner? Ice cream and a movie? Stroll around the canal?

Nah, why not head to the Great State Fair!
And so we did. My brother gave us complimentary passes that he had been given and both of us hadn't been to the fair in years, so we thought - what better way to spend a Sunday afternoon?

The minute I stepped out of the car, all the memories came flooding back. It looked the same. It sounded the same. It definitely smelled the same. And I immediately felt panicky and claustrophobic.

Ahhh....just how I remembered it.

Like a couple of goofball that we are, we both forgot our sunglasses. And did I mention it was hot? So we immediately stopped at the sunglasses booth and purchased our $5 glasses. It was also at this point that I made a mental note to open a cheap sunglasses joint at the fair. These people were raking in the cash. You would have thought they were passing out golden nuggets.

Don't mock. They were $5 and we were desperate.

We made our way to the "I will never be able to afford in this lifetime" section of the fairgrounds. You know...the place that is filled with things like this....


And this....


Ben and I quickly formulated a plan. Go find the purchase, that if given the freedom, you would take home today at no cost.

Of course, I went practical...


And Ben shockingly did as well...


Until he changed his mind...



Yeah, ok honey. Keep dreaming.

We started to get hungry, so we headed outside to see what fine eatery they had around these parts.

I swear, there must be some kind of contest amongst the food vendors on who can create the most disgusting dish. This one definitely would have been in the running....

I love that there is a picture or a yogurt/fruit/granola parfait, an equal sign, and then the words "Chicken Parfait." I mean, when I see a yogurt parfait, my mind immediately thinks of chicken.
You mean yours doesn't?

And then this.



The donut burger is really what I want to focus in on here. My mind was intrigued, and I had to go check it out for myself. Was it just a burger on a bagel, or was it some sort of dessert meat? The answer is neither.

When asked, "what exactly is a 'donut burger'?" the man quickly replied "it's a burger on a donut." Well, thank you. That helps tremendously.

I found somebody who had actually ordered one and I peered over her shoulder. It is a regular hamburger with bacon, lettuce, cheese, and tomato - all piled high between two glazed donuts.

Are you salivating yet?

How about this one...


Don't adjust your screens.

Or this one...


I am not even sure how that is humanly possible.

Maybe this one will tickle your fancy...


And yes, that is a line you see. People must have been intrigued. I mean, seriously, where do they come up with this stuff?

After all that find array of choices, we finally settled on this.


A good ole' Indian Taco, Curly Fries, and a jug of root beer. Too bad the root beer went from freezing cold to lukewarm in 3 minutes flat.

It was H-O-T!

We scarfed it down.



After we ate, we did some walking and some window shopping. We needed some major exercise after the gorge-fest we just endured.

Have you been to the fair recently? Well, if you haven't let me save you the trouble. There are some strange-o things there - besides the food. I'll save you from the images of belly-exposing grandma's and spandex wearing dudes, and show you the stuff that won't make you lose your lunch.

While paroozing the building, I came across this ginormous stock pot. This picture does not do it justice. I mean, it is bigger than any three stock pots put together. I immediately wondered what you would cook in there and my mind went to Thanksgiving for the whole trailer park. Seriously, that is all you would need it for. Maybe I should ask the Pioneer Woman. She might know.


Oh, and the "Acupressure Experience." Yikes. Funny thing is, I was not the only one taking pictures.


And did I mention this? C'mon Now!

I wasn't sure whether to include this in the food or the strange objects.


And don't even get me started on this guy. I protected his face in case he is like your brother-in-law.

This Segway guys followed us around on his little contraption doing spins and pirouettes continually reminding us that for just $1700 this bad boy could be ours. I am sad to say that Ben accepted his business card. I will let you know if we become a proud new parent of a Segway in the near future.



We ended our day with an exhausting-ly long walk to the car. I swear our car was not that far away when we arrived. I imagine it was fate trying to get us to walk off some of those one million calories that we just consumed.

Especially since we took this to the car with us..

Seriously, what fair trip is complete without a cinnamon roll covered in ooey-gooey butter cream icing (that cost $1 extra).

Needless to say, I won't be eating for an entire week. Except I ate dinner only two hours after we had returned. It's all good though. I am nursing, right?

After we left the fair, I made Ben immediately drive to the closest gas station, and I quickly purchased the first antibacterial hand sanitizer that I could get my grimey hands on. I returned to the car and began slathering it all over my hands and feet. Open toed shoes = big mistake. Just sayin.

All in all, we had a fabulous time. I wondered the whole way there if we were making a big mistake by not bringing the kids. But high temperatures, large crowds, over-priced food, and a smoke haze hovering over the fair ground's 4 acres set my mind at ease.


Besides, every married couple needs to take time out for themselves and have a little fun. Next time, though, maybe we'll step up the prestige a little. You know, and hit up a Steak n' Shake.


We dream big.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

My life - in bullets

  • I am obsessed with teeny bopper reality TV. Although I don't admit it in everyday life, I am currently obsessed with watching things like Bachelor Pad and Teen Mom. I swear I don't wish to be a teenager again, but I just can't resist the urge to watch.

  • I love candy corn - but only in the Fall. I was actually surprised a couple months ago that they sell it all year. Who knew?

  • I counted down the hours until Stone's new crib bumper arrived in the mail, and now it is sitting on the bed in the spare bedroom. You know...because he still isn't in a crib.

  • I feel blah about the job hunt. I am beginning to wonder what the purpose in all of this actually is.

  • Ben bet a 46 year old, chain smoking, mountain-dew drinking co-worker that he couldn't run a mile in under 12 minutes. They bet $100 and I have already mentally spent that money.

  • The Pioneer Woman is my new hero. While I have loved her in the past, I am discovering more recipes that I adore and my family loves. She is also the reason I want a Le Creuset for Christmas.

  • I am not really sure why I need a Le Creuset, but she cooks Every.Single.Dish with one, so I need one too.

  • After watching The Little Couple the other day, I spent the rest of the afternoon researching how to become a surrogate mom. Not that Ben would ever let me....

  • I Hate Facebook. And I Love Twitter.

  • My father-in-law has recently reached an all new level of crazy. Last night, after I had gone upstairs to bed, he kept texting me random lines from nursery rhymes, none of which belonged together, and all from the comfort of his bedroom - downstairs. Weird. But kinda funny too.

  • I love the idea of running, but when it actually comes time to lift my lazy booty off the couch to go do it - I just can't seem to muster up the energy. I come up with some excuse like, "Stone nursed a lot today, so I think I have burned enough calories." Right.

  • I keep telling myself that I want to blog everyday, but I somehow think that I just don't have enough material. Who am I kidding? I could probably blog everyday for the next month on things my children have tried to flush down the toilet - including green beans and a pumpkin.

  • Love this idea? Swipe it from me! Did I really just say "swipe?" No more Dora the Explorer for me.

*Comment on this post with a link to your blog, so that everyone can go read YOUR life in bullets.





Saturday, September 11, 2010

9/11

September 11, 2001

Seventeen years old, and just beginning my senior year of high school, I woke up and began getting ready - much like every other day. I got dressed, ate a bowl of cereal, and picked up my book bag as I made my way out the door. I hopped in the car and blasted some tunes - probably some Nsync and Britney Spears.

My first class of the day was Computer. Mrs. Llewelyn had us working on a creative project where we were to write a three column newsletter on any topic of our choosing. I chose to write a persuasive article on Why Cheerleading is a Sport. I am sure it was filled with factual information like, "because we sweat a lot," and "counting out 8-counts is really hard work!"

Brad Latham, my computer class neighbor walked in a few minutes late - which was a regular occurrence. He asked me if I heard about the plane crash in New York City. I hadn't, and he didn't know much about it, but thought it was interesting. He began to complete his three column project with a fictional article about a plane crashing into a building in NYC.

I remember looking over and he had downloaded some clip art of a building and a plane and had positioned them so that the plane was heading toward the building. "Strange boy, that Brad Latham," were the thoughts that crossed my mind.

It wasn't until third hour US History class with Mr. Smith that I began to see the severity and the seriousness of the events that were taking place in our once protected and undisturbed country. Mr. Smith wheeled a TV cart into our classroom and we all watched as smoke filled the streets of NYC and people were scrambling around, trying to find loved ones. I will never forget the images I saw on that TV. Hurt, Sorrow, Desperation, and Grief were written all over the faces of so many. Fireman tried desperately to rescue and revive the lives and parents were screaming the names of their lost children. I remember thinking to myself, "this can't be real. I'm going to wake up and this will all be a horrible nightmare."

For the rest of the school day, much of our classroom discussions were replaced with newscasts and discussions on terrorism and the future. Many parents came and picked up their children from school that day - something I never understood until I had children of my own. When tragedy strikes, you want nothing more than to be with the ones that you love, hold them tight, and thank God for blessing you with another breath.

I had no idea how much that fateful day would change the course of history and change the great United States of America. I had no idea that the lives that were sacrificed that day were only the first to lose their life in pursuit of freedom. I had no idea that nine years later, I would still remember where I was, what I was doing, and how I left as history changed forever.

I pray that my children will never experience a day like September 11, 2001. Unfortunately, however, this world seems to be corrupting more and more with each passing day. I know that the temptations, sins, and tragedies of the next generation will only be more intensified and severe. I pray that God would use me to equip them in reaching this world for Christ. I pray they would surrender to transforming a generation - one life at a time. I pray that they would be protected from the deep hurts of this world and always be ready for His return.

As I reflect on my memories of that day, and think of the future for my children, I can't help but look to the sky and pray the Lord comes quickly.


Monday, September 6, 2010

Lookin Shnazzy....

You know that old saying, "You can't teach an old dog new tricks"?

Well, it turns out, it isn't true.

In this scenario, my dad is the old dog and the new trick is any sense of fashion - what.so.ever.

No offense, dad.

This is what I had to work with....


The shirt isn't so bad - if you are at Buffalo Wild Wings with five of your best buddies throwing down some hot wings and soda on Game Day. But anywhere else? Completely unacceptable.

The jeans are the Sam's Club Special (probably from 1998), and those are his "nice pair."

The shoes, although intended by the manufacturer for gardening and such, have become a staple in his casual wear attire.

It became a personal mission of mine to bring this man into the twenty-first century world of fashion.

Dad, I would like to introduce you to a proper shopping experience...

It is a world full of dressing rooms and sales attendants. The clothes are on hangers and the floors have carpet.


My dad was quite the trooper. He tried on BKE shoes, Affliction shirts, and I even got him to try on some Big Star jeans. This wasn't just a step up, this was a catapult into a new galaxy.


It is amazing what some nice clothes can do for ya. I swear, he looks twenty years younger.


Although it is not evident in this picture, my mom was very supportive of this whole experience. She came right along with us, and gave her two cents on how his backside looked in the jeans. An aspect that was clearly outside my jurisdiction. At the very moment of this picture, she swears she was laughing at something the sales attendant said.


And although Ellie Kate looks a little concerned about her Poppy and his new-found style, she was honestly, probably more concerned about her snack that had just fallen on the ground.

And here if living proof of a job well done - his brand new jeans sitting on the counter of his kitchen.



I honestly, can't believe he bought a pair - Dad, I have never been more proud of a man and his metamorphosis over a 24 hours period. You're lookin shnazzy.



Sunday, September 5, 2010

Happy Labor Day!

Spending this holiday weeked at my folks house, and loving every minute of it!
Happy Labor Day, everyone!

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Look out blog-o-sphere!

Hubby has a blog!


For those interested, he does a little bit of a better job keeping everyone updated on our current situation and job hunt. So, if dying to know - head on over and check it out.


You should follow his blog!





Oh, and just for kicks - here is a picture of us back in the day.



And when I say, "the day," I mean pre-marriage, pre-baby, pre-responsibility driven days. Maybe that is why we look so well rested.






What a hunk.

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