Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Holiday Printables

So did you know you can edit pictures AND create printables on picmonkey?! I've been editing photos there for about a year now, but I just realized that you can do printables too. So I made some... for the holidays. I'm posting them here, so if anyone wants to use them they can.

I'm not gonna lie, I'm pretty excited about Christmas this year. I feel like some years the holidays sneak up on me and I'm never quite ready, but these year 'twas I did the sneaking. I started buying Christmas presents in August so I think it's safe to say, I'm winning the holidays this year, straight winnin' them!!! I have to enjoy it while it lasts... because I know I'll probably miss the boat on the next three or five Christmases. Instead of getting my shit together early I'll be wandering Walmart on Christmas Eve trying to buy whatever they have left and hoping the kids think travel size deodorants are AWESOME stocking stuffers.

So anyway, here's some lovely festive printables so you too can get ahead of the Christmas curve... if you weren't already there when the decorations went out in stores the week before Halloween. Just click on the Link/Title below each of them to open as a .jpg.




(it's funny... because some of the snowflakes are yellow)


Merry Christmas!!

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Oh poop, you got me again

Ugh, you know what kind of sucks when you're a parent... not being able to kick back for a few minutes and trust that the house won't go straight to hell the second your back is turned. Instead you can almost guarantee that any moments of peaceful laziness spent with children out of your direct line of sight will only end in tears... and sometimes poop. This lesson I have learned many times... but times are different... I'm a working mom now, and for the past few weeks I've been nostalgic for the old days. Remembering with sweet sadness how wonderful it was to be a stay at home mom, in yoga pants all day.

So yesterday I took a half day and spent some time with my little angels. I was only out of the room for a few minutes while I changed into my yoga attire... but that's all it took. I came out of my room to find Beau with FIVE unwrapped dum-dums stuffed in his face, Conner running in circles yelling like he was possessed... and where you ask was Tillie? Oh, she was in the hall bathroom, fishing in the toilet with her brother's tooth brush. Joy.

Tonight I came home, with a whole bag full of good intentions. I made the kids cracker pizzas, because I ROCK, they ate dinner before 7pm... and they loved it. You know what though, all that time spent having my shit together was exhausting. So, I hid for a few minutes in my bedroom... and then I heard yelling. Conner was yelling that Tillie was getting yogurt everywhere, which didn't make sense, because I hadn't given the children any yogurt. Which was kind of a horrible realization, because it meant they had been climbing in the fridge and OH MY GOD the only yogurt we had was in a half gallon jug!!!

I ran into the living screaming nonsense and burst upon Tillie two fists deep in a bucket-o-yogurt slammin' her face full of goo like the little lactose junkie she is. As I continue to scream Nic runs out, grabs her and sets her with clothes on in the tub... then runs out the door because his Dad was here to pick him up and go out. So now alone, and probably experiencing one the top ten most intense freak outs of my life, I strip Tillie and start some water going in the tub. I let her just splash in the stream while I run into the living room and mop yogurt out of the carpet... and off the couch... and out of the entertainment center... and off some clean laundry... like holy shit she touched everything she possibly could before she got caught.

I finally get most of it up, and run back to the bathroom to give Tillers a good rinse... when she starts to make the poop face. So I begin screaming... but then I notice something... swirling amid the bath toys are some brown chunks. I am too late, she has already pooped in the tub... and I've probably already touched it. I grab a cup and begin scooping poo bits out from the toys, praying she doesn't clog the drain. I look down and realize that she had already begun scooping poop out of the tub herself, actually I'm standing in it.

So there you go... I love the heck out of those kids, but damn, they make going to work feel like a vacation... and if work feels like a vacation I can't even imagine how awesome a vacation would be.

Friday, November 1, 2013

Halloween 2013

Now, if there's anything I've learned in the few years I've been a mother, it's that given the means small children can take something fun and turn it into misery. I'm not being a debbie downer, I'm not being mean, it's a skill really. One minute you're excited to celebrate a wonderful holiday with your favorite little dumplings... and the next you're crouched in the fetal position, covered in candy drool, praying for a straight jacket... or a beer.

This Halloween 2013 was just one of those nights. I picked the kiddos up early from daycare so we could get into some costumes, and get good pictures while it was still daylight. I imagined a perfect evening of sweet, polite, adorable children... and candy... possibly hugs even. Instead I brought home three monsters, already picking up a sugar buzz, and out of their minds with excitement. I had walked into, the perfect storm.

After spending an hour chasing the boys while Tillie held my leg and cried, I somehow had everyone in costumes. Conner was taking the chaotic evening as the perfect time to repeat everything I said. Beau was taking everything I said as a personal insult to himself and softly whimpering over his shoes. Tillie, well she had found a tootsie roll and was chewing and drooling chocolate sludge all over herself... and my leg which she was still clinging to.

I think maybe that was the point my mind gave out. I was yelling at the kids to pull it together, we were going out on the porch to take some damn pictures!! Everyone, get outside and smile DAMMIT!!!  Actually this is when Conner stopped being a copy cat, once Mom starts swearing... well, he knows not to repeat those words.

Apparently once I released the wild things back into nature, they were much happier. Our Halloween pictures turned out really well. I posted it on Facebook... so everyone could see my adorable well behaved children... gotta keep up the front ya know.


We moved on to trick or treating in Nic's sister's neighborhood...

Tillie fell asleep before we got to the first house, so we were hauling little princess in the stroller and having her brother's beg for extra candy. Nic and I argued angrily in front of his parents over which direction to go once we got going... so awkward. Turned into another "it's Halloween DAMMIT can we please have FUN" moment... delightful.

We decided to head back to our neighborhood...

Tillie woke up, jonesin' for more candy. Beau fell asleep holding his bag of candy tight up to his chest. We decided to do a lap in our neighborhood, I'm hauling Beau in the stroller. Conner is being cute and behaved... a true delight... really repping the family well to the rest of the street. Tillie has become an adorable sugar fueled monster. She won't sit in any stroller, she's running up to houses, hands out, demanding candy... then shoving the candy into her mouth and running on to the next house. She ain't got time for no trick or treat bag, no wrappers, no kindly words of "Peaseeee". I'm chasing behind her, fishing chewed up candy wads out of her mouth, trying to unwrap as fast as I can... she's covered in sticky... I'm covered in sticky. At some point I stop trying to wide and clean, I just embrace the sticky as a permanent state... it's who I am now, that sticky lady with the crazy child.

Finally, thank sweet lord, it's over!! I pick up Tillie, actually she sticks to me like a fly to flypaper, and book my ass home. I'm done... over and done. Oh wait, except for the part where we divide up the candy, and cry over the candy, and put the candy away because we're not eating it all tonight. I explained to the children, I put the candy up high so the candy elves don't steal any, but if they see some missing that's what happened... it was elves. This damn house is infested.

So there you have it, that is Halloween, I feel like I was hit by a train. I feel hungover... and I barely even got to finish a single hard cider, despite the fact I'm pretty sure I earned a couple shots of Tequila. Oh, and as I'm up at the butt crack of dawn typing this... I remember... I was supposed to buy coffee yesterday.

Thursday, October 31, 2013

Tillie's Costumes

Hello, hello, HELLO! I haven’t been on lately… it seems like my inspiration for blog posts hits me while I’m in the car and obviously I can’t be typin’ and drivin’. Maybe I should get a tape recorder…

Anyway, here we are at the end of October, Halloween is today and of course I bet you are all wondering about Tillie’s amazing costume choices this year. Let me tell you, Tillie has worn a different costume to every party we’ve gone, and her cuteness is at levels so high they’re almost lethal. Fair warning, if you have a heart condition best you sit that candy on the porch and hide inside because tiny little Princess Tillie ain’t messin’ around.

 Here she is in her little mermaid princess dress, look at all the poof… I die I tell you.

Last week we went to a friend’s Halloween party and I was able to put one of our tutu outfits to good use. She was a tiny ballerina… it’s official chubby ballerinas are my new favorite… little dancers with cute little rolls of chub.

Here she is, sitting with daddy, eating a treat… maybe using him as a napkin on occasion. When you’re daddy’s number one girl he’s happy to be your napkin, princess wipes where ever she wills.

Our last and most heart poppingly adorable outfit is…. A pumpkin. I mean seriously, SERIOUSLY, that is one gourd so cute I think Halloween needs to be year round. To top it off she carries her little candy bucket and holds it up saying “bees, bees, BBEEEEEESSSSSSSSS!!!” Obviously that means please in Tillie land, and it wouldn’t be polite to take candy from strangers without both shoving a bucket into their face and screaming gibberish.


I'll have an update about our night of trick or treating tomorrow... maybe... we'll see if I've recovered.

Monday, September 30, 2013

Work these days...

You haven’t heard from me much in the last few months because I’ve been working the family into a new routine, one where I’m working 40 hours a week. I have to say that a full time job is no joke, I don’t love it or hate it, but I do like not having to stress about bill payments every month.  The ideal situation would be for me to somehow be independently wealthy.  I could be home with the kids and also have employees to deal with them before nap time and any random rough patches during the day… like a tantrum butler. Now that would be living the dream. Anyway, since this is real life, I thought I would tell you about what it’s like to be my coworker.
Just to start out I have to tell you about the curse, I don’t know why but I have this issue where about a week into any new job something colossally stupid happens to me. Not something so crazy I lose my job, but definitely bad enough to make them question hiring me.  This one time my car was booted within my first week of work, making me three hours late to my fourth shift… nothing says “I’m a responsible adult” like getting nabbed for nonpayment of parking tickets. This new gig I’ve got going on isn’t so bad, and I had hoped that the curse was behind me… but two days in this happened,
I was sitting in my cube waiting for my giant cup of coffee to cool, and decided to take a quick sip. I went to hot yoga that morning, so of course I had limp noodle arms and my for a second my wrist crapped out and I dumped the entire cup of coffee straight into my lap. When I say straight now, I want you to know that thing flipped over in front of me and the cup landed upside down on my crotch with so much force coffee blasted down the entirety of my pants. I'm pretty sure coworkers for three cubes round could hear the explosion. With a burst of whispered obscenities I jumped out of my chair, but there really wasn’t much I could do, I was wearing every damn drop.
I waddled over to the cube of a coworker, my corner of the building is pretty cold and I’m pretty sure sitting in wet coffee clothes could cause hypothermia. The nice thing about a grown up job is that I got to take off, change, and come back. Once I made it back to my desk an IM from one of my new team members popped up, she expressed her happiness that I had come back and asked what I thought of the job so far. Surprised that word of my coffee spill had traveled so quickly, I joked about liking the job despite my “drinking problem” and had only had to change my clothes once today.  What I didn’t realize was that this particular coworker was working out of office, so she had no idea I had spilled coffee, she did however now think I was very open and honest about my alcohol problem. We continued to talk, and as we approached the end of the text conversation she awkwardly stated “well, as long as you can still function at work…” to which I replied “as long as I have a few cups in the morning I’m usually good to go”.
Eventually I caught on to the fact that she wasn’t talking about coffeeso the situation was downgraded to a slightly less embarrassing subject… like involuntary arm spasms.  So in brief, if you work with me, expect the unexpected, listen to half of what I say seriously only half. Most importantly if we’re conversing and you can’t understand what the heck I’m talking about… I probably don’t know either, that’s just how I roll.

Monday, September 23, 2013

Let's get a pet...

Me and the kids have been trying to convince Nic to get a pet for a while now. I’ve tried teaching Tillie to sign, “I want a puppy, daddy” with her lip pushed out and her big blue eyes, how can he say no to that! However, all Tillie has been able to sign so far is “eat more” and then she growls the word “puppppayssss”, it’s a little off putting and hasn't earned us a dog. Then the other day on the way to soccer Conner ran some ideas by me for a slightly more exotic family pet… a cheetah.
I guess he had put a lot of thought into it because he opened with an argument about all the good qualities Cheetah’s have,
1. They’re really fast, maybe the fastest animal in the world

2. They’re really good guard cats
Now, I know a good idea when I hear one, so I let him know that I was sold on the whole Cheetah thing as long as he cleaned up the poop. That’s when he remembered the one bad quality a Cheetah has… it might eat us if it got hungry.
So bummer… no cheetah… but wait he knew another animal that might be a good fit, how about a gazelle. They also have lots of good qualities,
1. They’re just as fast as cheetahs
2. You can ride them
3. They eat grass, so it would mow the lawn
I have to say, that was a totally legit list of attributes, I would LOVE a gazelle. I think he could definitely would fill that soft furry animal shaped hole in our family. So I tell Conner I’m down, let’s go to Petsmart and see what they have in the Safari aisle, maybe bring ourselves home an African deer… but wait… he has a better idea.
“Mom!!! If we get a cheetah AND a gazelle, we can have two really cool pets and if the cheetah gets hungry he’ll eat the gazelle instead of us!!”
Well, that’s some logic right there. I guess that could work… except, I explain, I don’t think I can afford to buy a gazelle every week to feed our pet cheetah. Money doesn't grow on trees after all…
“Oh mom, you’re so silly… you can’t BUY a gazelle! They’re WILD animals… you’ll just have to go to Africa every week and pick one up.”
Oh is that all? Well in that case, how about we start naming the lint balls that come out of the dryer… because it looks like it’s as close to a pet as we’re going to get.

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

the longest 90 minutes of my life

If there’s one thing you probably don’t know about me, it’s this… I will without a doubt always and eventually succumb to peer pressure. Actually there doesn’t even have to be pressure involved, just a casual mention works too. If enough people casually mention something, well damn it I will buy a Groupon and I will try it out. This is how, despite the warnings of my Mother-in-law, I ended up in a hot yoga class last night.

I don’t know if you’ve ever been to hot yoga, or just plain old regular temperature yoga, but let me tell you… it ain’t easy. Since I have a happy trigger finger when it comes to Groupon deals, I’m sitting on a 5 class package and last night I cashed in class number one. I got to the studio early and the instructor walked me through a list of rules, no water until after the 4th posture, if you have an emergency its ok to leave, no cell phones in the studio and so on. Actually this kind of confused me a little, I mean how do you know if there’s an emergency if you don’t have your cell phone?

I went into the yoga studio shook my mat out and looked around at the other yoga people. Of course I was sitting next to the tiniest, bendiest, bikini clad yoga chic ever, the class hadn’t even started and she was already doing back bends down the back wall. Not to be outdone I fell into a pose that is my personal favorite, corpse pose. The heat was intense, like so intense I had a new found respect for Frodo, it must have been damn oppressive up there on Mount Doom.  Then the class started.

It took me about 15 minutes to realize what kind of emergency could make you leave the room, the kind of emergency you don’t get a cell phone call for. Like I’m going to vomit, maybe poop myself, and I’m pretty sure my heart is exploding… holy shit I’m having heat induced hallucinations kind of emergencies. Yeah, it was that hot and that awful. I think the worst part is that there is no clock, you have no sense of time, no understanding of how close you are to the end.  I started thinking about all the things I had taken for granted in my life, like fresh air, refrigeration, breezes… ice cubes. I drank some water, I thought about volcanoes, how horrible it would be if one erupted right now and I never felt cool air again. We did a pose where I tucked my chin up to my knees, and the sushi I had for lunch made a spontaneous appearance in my mouth. I choked back the vomit and kept going.

I worked and worked, and thought about all the people outside the studio, I thought of the future. I thought, holy shit, what if global warming makes the whole planet this hot all the time and every day is like doing hot yoga for the rest of our lives. That was kind of the point I started crying, I was so sweaty I don’t think you could see the tears, but I’m pretty sure everyone could hear me sobbing. Yeah, hot yoga pretzel lady had front row seats to my whole freak show. After crying for 10-15 minutes the class was finally over, the instructor brought us cold wet towels, I cried for a few more minutes, then rolled up my sweat soaked mat and made my way out.

I will tell you this, I am so glad I didn’t buy the 10 class package. I think there is a possibility I will go back, because I’m cheap and the classes are non-transferable. I now I will not be eating sushi for lunch the day of a class ever again.

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

on the subject of fossilized nuggets

You know you're a mom when... your car looks more like the back of a trash truck halfway through the neighborhood pickup than the fresh vehicle you purchased years ago. Between work, daycare, soccer, and weekend trips to thrift shops my car has become a catch all for the whole family's crap. I've let the junk build up until I can't possibly go another day without cleaning it out. Lately the car has developed into a health hazard, like if we were in a car accident last months chicken nuggets would probably act as shrapnel and cause serious bodily harm.

So this week I decided to suck it up and clean out the wagon. Actually the final push came when I was leaving work on a hot day. As I slowly rolled up to the stoplight outside work, a can of Dr Pepper tapped the back hatch of my car and exploded. A soft, warm, mist of fizzy soda settled over my head and I realized at that moment I had hit my rock bottom, and it was time to turn things around.

So I went home and pulled out handfuls of trash, toys and fossilized chicken nuggets from the floorboards. I found missing action figures, close to a trillion sippy cups, and good lord did I find a lot of shoes. Once I reached the final level of muck I discovered the blackened remains of a banana and... a smell. A horrible, noxious, unshakable stench. Somehow the layers of toys, clothes, shoes, sippies, and other junk was acting as a filter for the evil smell, and now there is nothing to contain it. The car is clean but any drive spent sitting in that smell leaves you feeling slightly unwashed.

I'm working on a plan to get rid of the smell, it's a fool proof plan, all I need to do is convince Nic to let me buy a new car.

Saturday, August 10, 2013

Mom's Wiener

I always had this idea that when I had kids I  might someday in the future get a tattoo for them. I know, I know, me and the rest of the world it seems like. Well, my idea was super original, I was going to save their first picture of an actual person and get that as a tattoo. Maybe one day have a whole little family portrait drawn by my kids one my arm or leg or something. I don’t know, I never really considered placement, it just seemed like a really good idea at the time.

Well, when Conner was three he drew a picture of me for the first time. He actually described everything for me as he drew it, I was thrilled. Now I don’t mean to brag but my kids are AMAZING artists, seriously, I would wallpaper my house with their scribbles if I could. So when he began drawing this picture, my heart melted, my mind exploded and I waited breathlessly as he added each adorable detail.



He began with a large oval, and then he drew my little feet. He came back and added little eyes and a smile, and just to make my heart explode a little more he drew a tiny person inside of me… his baby sister who I was pregnant with at the time. He drew something floating around me, maybe it was a spaceship maybe it was aura given off by my glowing personality. I don’t know, but I know he was my favorite child in the whole universe for a while. Then as he finished up glowing with pride in his own amazing artistic ability he added one final detail… a GIANT WIENER. I guess it never occurred to him there was a reason I sat to pee, or maybe that if I had a wiener longer than my legs he would have noticed by now.


I’ve revised my tattoo idea… I think I’d rather not have a picture of my schlong tattooed on my body for the rest of my life. However, it is NEVER leaving my fridge… EVER..

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

DIY Ombré Dresser

So, this weekend I was surfing Pinterest and had some sudden inspiration, the kind that starts by driving my husband crazy and ends with my house covered in pieces of craft supplies. I've been trying to put Tillie's room together for a while, going back and forth, to paint or not to paint, super girly or kinda subtle. I've had a dresser for her sitting in my garage for a while and this weekend I made my final decision. 




I went with blue ombre, because bright blue is my new favorite color for basically everything. I don't really have a good plan for gradually tinting the paint for the ombre, I just eyeballed it. I will warn you though, if you try it yourself keep a little of each shade handy after afterwards, I didn't so it really sucked when Beau knocked one of the drawers over and it got scratched... but oh well. 


I spray painted the original hardware with brushed nickel metallic spray paint (they used to be a gross brass color). The white on the outside actually has a mercury glaze over it, so it looks sparkly and kind of metallic in the sun.


I love it! I just want to lay in Tillie's room and stare at it all day like a kook. Definitely my most favorite furniture piece at the moment.





The Beach

There is no summer activity I dread more than going to the beach. Before having kids I loved it, it was relaxing... refreshing even... but children have killed the joy of the ocean for me. Anyway, we have been to the beach a few times this summer and I guess it wasn't so bad.



Last year at the beach my boys had one agenda... take years off my life and give me grey hair by recklessly throwing themselves into the ocean to be pummeled by waves again and again. This year they were a little less crazy and spent most their time digging... I actually got to sit at the beach this year.



This was Tillie's first time at the beach and she loved it, she's not quite as wild as the boys and I love it... my blood pressure appreciates the break.



The boys wear their life jackets EVERY WHERE now, really takes a load off my mind. They also make nice handles and it's a lot easier to wrangle kids when you can just pick them up like suitcases.


Last year the sand made me crazy... it gets everywhere and never leaves. After going to the beach you have sand in your crotch, in your hair, on hands and in your food. I'm hyperventilating a little right now just thinking about it... also kids are just kind of permanently sticky and full of wrinkles where sand can hide and never leave EVER leave. I'm working on it, obviously sand is part of the whole beach package, this year I'm trying to relax and forget about the sand.


Look at them... they don't even care about the extra crunch on those chips...sand hands gross.


This is the best part of the trip, the peace and quiet of sleeping children. I bet next year the beach will be better, and the year after that even better... eventually the kids will be old enough to load like pack mules with beach toys, towels, and icey cold beverages. The day is coming... I know it... I can't wait. 



Thursday, July 11, 2013

another awkward discussion with Conner

I definitely think worst part of kids growing up is their development of long term memory.  One day you can speak freely without fear of being listened to and the next they're spouting family gossip to anyone who will listen and unleashing cuss words like they've used them all their lives. At two Conner's ability to remember the word shit, and only use it at surprisingly appropriate times and in perfect context was kind of cute. Now at four his memory is out of control and ruining my claims to perfect parenthood.

With that I give you a story about the most recent thing Conner has remembered... and I'm sure he will never, ever, EVER forget and will only choose to bring up at the MOST awkward and embarrassing times... because isn't that just how motherhood works?

Yesterday, while I was heading out the front door to chat up the neighbor I noticed something wrong with my rosebushes. We moved into this house a few months ago and the mature, well cared for plants are my pride and joy, the rose bushes especially. I check them daily for weird changes in behavior and they have responded well to being totally ignored (because I have no idea how to take care of a freakin' rosebush!). Well on this day I noticed something majorly different, like my bushes were somehow a foot shorter and crawling with mating beetles!!!

After screaming and running in circles for a minute Nic came out with the perimeter guard, bug killer stuff that he keeps around (because he's a manly man with a garage full of storage for things like bug spray) and let those plant eating assholes have it. The neighbors came over to check out the damage and because I think I'm oh so witty I said this to the neighbor;

"Damn beetles, acting like they own the place... eating my rosebushes and having sex on my front porch, don't they know there are children around?!!"

Yes, there were children around, but unlike the beetles I have no excuse... I need to start spelling my conversations out or speaking pig latin or something. The next morning while we were watching cartoons Conner turned to me and asked "Are there still beetles outside having sex?"

My eyes popped out of my head, my heart stopped, and I barely gasped out "Uhhhh, the beetles are gone and that was just a joke mommy made, I probably shouldn't have... uhhhhhh maybe that's not something we should repeat...."

With joy in his happy little eyes Conner replied, "I know you were joking, it was the funniest joke I ever heard!"

Avoiding eye contact and acting nonchalant I casually asked, "Um, if you thought it was so funny... what do you think sex is....?"

Without even stopping for a minute he answered, "Well, it's when you give each other piggy backs and eat a whole rose bush!"

"You are exactly right! That's a perfect explanation of sex... now let's stop talking about it."

And that's how we closed the subject... until the next time it comes up. I'm sure it won't even enter his mind until that one time we visit a convent, or a nursing home, or a quiet craft fair full of grandmas.

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

it's not a vacation until...

It's not a vacation with the Deep in Poop family until someone has vomited or blown out their pants. Just as a warning this vacation story is not for the feint of heart, or the easily traumatized. This is a story of normal bodily functions gone wrong... OK, I warned you.

Saturday morning at 8:45 am we set out for my little sister's high school graduation. Scrubbed up, dressed in our best, with joy in the hearts of all (except Tillie who was being forced to wear her Easter dress) we realized we were running early enough to hit up the Starbucks drive through. Could the morning get any better?!

Nope, that was pretty much the high point.

Right after placing our order we heard a tiny voice in the back seat say, "Uhhhhh my froat feels dry....."

I turned to tell him to just drink Granma's dang almond milk, it wasn't going to kill him, when he started dry heaving. My little brother sitting next to him started screaming "He's going to puke, aaahhhhhhhh" and began scrambling to escape the back seat. I thought maybe I could grab him and drag out of the car to puke on the sidewalk. Screaming I clawed at the door trying to get us both out quickly, but damn those child safety locks.  I ended up ineffectively throwing myself at the door handle, screaming nonsense noises and watching as Conner puked all over himself.

Ugggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

We pulled through the drive through and parked, my Dad went in to get some wet paper towels and as I pulled Conner and his vomit soaked booster out of the back seat we all heard another sound.

FFFFWWWWAAAPPPPPPPBBBBBPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!

Tillie let out a very sloppy, wet, shart noise. We all knew what was now hanging out in her diaper, thanks to my Mother who fed her prunes that morning because she thinks EVERYONE is constipated and an antibiotic that causes loose stools. Tillie had blown her dipe.

"Don't worry Kerri, I've got Tillie you just take care of Conner." Said Shannon, my new favorite sister.

Tillie's butt action under control, I turned back to Conner and started peeling off layers of vomit soaked clothing. Then I heard a scream. I ran to the front of the car where Tillie was spread out on the passenger side chair. Shannon was holding her legs in the air and her diaper was still velcroed on, but there was shit everywhere. With a shaky voice Shannon looked at me and said "She pooped more and it just shot out, right at me, POOP WAS FLYING AT ME!!!"

So, the force with which Tillie pooped, blasted the stuff out the sides of her diaper and the only thing that saved Shannon (and MY favorite dress that she had borrowed and was wearing right then) was the diaper itself which the divided the explosion.

I grabbed some baby wipes and frantically began trying to wipe poop up off the front seat, when Conner starts wimpering that he's cold. In between wrapping him with a coat from the car and mopping the last of the fecal matter from my Dad's upholstery. Dad showed up with a handful of wet paper towels, taking a quick look at what had happened while he was gone. He choked back some laughter and said "Maybe we just need to go home, hose everyone off and try this again."

Truer words were never spoken, and that's exactly we did.


Wednesday, May 22, 2013

so this is hell...

Just in case anyone was wondering, I survived flying alone with the three kiddos. They also survived, thanks to a buttload of dum-dums and other forms of bribery. Just so we're clear, it wasn't awesome. As Conner would say, I didn't love it.

Traveling with children always sucks, though. Even when you're not alone, even if you don't have a layover in the busiest airport in the US, even if your one year old doesn't have an ear infection. Any time you have to keep children occupied in seats they can't leave for hours, your life is going to be a nightmare.Seriously, at one point as I sat hunched in the stupidly small plane seat, clutching Tillie who wasn't so much crying as growling like a rabid raccoon. I thought to myself, this must be what hell is like, only in hell you're stuck on the plane for eternity and they're probably out of complimentary pretzels, and maybe you're not even holding a baby it's a REAL RACCOON...

 I would like to send a shout out to the random stranger who let Beau play Angry Birds on their iPad for an hour. Letting someone else's kid touch your electronic's is courageous, but you didn't even have a case on that thing... girl, you crazay!!

I would also like to send an apology to the dude who shared a narrow two seat row with Beau. You were so quietly enjoying a book on your Kindle, I'm sure it was a shock to be suddenly tickled by your two year old row mate. Thanks for taking it lightly, although really, when a small child suddenly yells "TEEECKLE TEEECKLE" and plunges his tiny fingers into your sensitive armpits without warning, how else do you take it? Your panicked eyes said "I need an adult!" yet your calm, cool, response said "Oh crap, I am the adult!" and I appreciate that.

I don't understand how no one has found a way to ship children yet. Hey Fedex, I think there's a market you haven't cornered.

Tuesday, May 7, 2013

The House

The last weeks have gone by so quickly, I can't believe it's already May! Our house hunt is finally over, we moved two weeks ago from our apartment into a rental home about 10 minutes down the road. Being in a house with a garage, lawn responsibilities, and attic space has really brought out our grownup sides, I almost feel old enough to have children. 

Seriously, this house has made us better people somehow. Nic and I are in bed at a decent hour, the kids are sleeping through the night, I yell things like "Take your shoes off at the front door!" and "Don't mess with my Azalea bushes!!" Oh, and we've been on time to work and stuff... like I said, I think we've become adults.

Except I hate feeling like an adult so I did an "experiment" in the back yard with the kids today. I'm always telling them not to shake soda cans because they'll explode, but they never believe me. So today, at Conner's request, we shook a can of soda and shook it for a while, threw it up in the air, and watched it smash down on the driveway. IT. WAS. AWESOME! Soda went everywhere, the boys were shocked and awed, and I think they finally get the point about not shaking sodas. 

So, that's where we are now, busy, happy, blessed, and ready for summer.


Tuesday, April 9, 2013

how to pee like a boy

When Conner finally decided to allow us to house train him it was the best week of my life. Seriously, having one less butt to wipe is like as good as it gets for a mom with small children, well that and nap time. Of course he didn't learn standing up, the only person he was around during the day sits to pee, so he was a three year old sit-and-tucker. This is nice if you're really into clean bathrooms that aren't covered in urine... which I am... however it's pretty inconvenient to have a kid who relies on a potty to be able to pee. Our lives demand flexibility in all things, which means sometimes your potty is a bush, a curb, or an empty parking lot, and come on he's a BOY shouldn't he be psyched to be able to pee ANYWHERE.

Well he was not excited. We went months with Conner demanding a potty every time his bladder was full, and at least 15 minutes into any road trip. I decided that I was going to coach him, I could show him how to pee standing up, I was going to help him see the world in a whole new way... as a urinal. He resisted as long as he could until one day desperation forced a change.

We were driving around with the kids on a house hunt looking for a rental place, everyone was dressed up to go to a family dinner that night and of course it was pouring rain. The boys had fallen asleep in the car so I sent Nic into a leasing office while I waited with the boys outside in the down pour. Suddenly Conner woke up demanding a toilet, doing the peepee dance in his seat. There was no way we could get him inside in time to make it to a potty so I jumped out of the car, stood in the rain and had him come to the edge of the doorway to pee into the parking lot (Just for the record, this is not our "go to" stand up pee scenario, we are very much bush peeing people... like I said before, situation was desperate). I stood in front of him to hide him from anyone who might be watching, spread my arms out, and started cheering...

"Go Conner! Go Conner! You can pee standing up! Pee! Pee!!! Wooooo!"

Yeah, because I cheer for EVERYTHING now, from soccer games to first poops... whatever my kids love it... I think. Anyway it worked, he stepped up and launched a stream of urine high into the sky... higher than I had anticipated... it went up, arched, and as if in slow motion I watched in horror as it came down right into the open collar of my dress SHIRT! He was PEEING down my SHIRT!!! I started windmilling my arms and screaming,

"Conner!! AAAAHHHHH You're PEEEIIINNNNG on ME!!"

In a state of awe, shock, and panic he hastily tried to redirect his stream, and coated the inside of the car door with urine. Thank god, for that tiny bird bladder he has, because he was done quick. I buckled him back into his seat, and as Nic got back to the car Conner joyfully announced his accomplishment and I informed him that I needed a change of clothes.

That was the beginning of long list of things Conner has stood up to pee on, although none of them have been people. So if you're trying to teach your son to pee standing up too, here's my advice:


Kids really like it when you cheer for them and don't stand directly in front of a peeing child they have a shockingly long range.


Friday, April 5, 2013

Poppin Tags!

So, I'm kind of obsessed with vintage pyrex right now. I found some stuff at a thrift shop down the street and I've been dragging my kids to Goodwill every week since. You remember the post about why you should never go shopping with my family? Well if you're looking for excitement in your life go thrifting with me. Seriously. When I walk into a thrift store I feel like I'm a guest on The Price is Right, I can barely contain myself, and then I find some vintage treasure and seriously, shit hits the fan. 



See this vintage pyrex fridgee? I literally screamed when I found it. In the middle of the Goodwill I snatched it off the shelf like it was the first five minutes of a black Friday store opening and yelled "LOOK WHAT I FOUND!! I told you this was the lucky Goodwill!!!" My husband was flabbergasted and the other store patrons were staring over the shelves probably wondering what priceless antique treasure they had missed.  


This set of dishes right here, vintage Hazel-Atlas Crinoline in pink. PINK!! could you just die, because I about did. Right in the middle of the same lucky Goodwill, I mean I can just see a future of tea party birthdays for my baby girl, all served on this set of dishes. I love it!! 

Holding vintage dishes is like holding a piece of history in your hands, I think of the other women who owned these pieces. Maybe they bought Pyrex at a house party or were given this set of dishes as a wedding present, I wonder if they cherished it as much as I do.  So if you're looking for something fun, come treasure hunting with me. We can wear eye patches and pretend to be pirates, seriously it might make the screaming and carrying on when I find something slightly less weird. 

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

looking for a new place

So we've been touring different rental homes in our area looking for our next temporary home. Yesterday we did a walk through on a town home and I feel so bad for the poor mom who was home when I brought my children through her house. Let me give you an idea of what to expect if we showed up at your door for a tour,

On the way to check out the house all the kids feel asleep in the back of the car so we had to wake them up to go in. My kids are the WORST grumps when they've been woken from a car nap, Conner insists that his limbs no longer work, Beau is panicked trying to locate the action figures he fell asleep holding that are now MIA. Panic, confusion, and whining are the norm, but Tillie adds a small element of compliance (she can't walk so what does she have to complain about anyway). Eventually we get everyone out of the car and to the front door, the leasing agent looks a little scared as Conner scowls at her demanding to know if we live here now. She lets us in with a smile and lets us know that the tenent is home (soooo awkward cruising through someone else's place while they're still there but whatever).

The tenant is sitting on the living room couch feeding a tiny baby that looks only a few days old, she has a two year old in a highchair near her. The presence of someone else's small children makes Beau and Conner feel much more at home, and we go on a tour of the upstairs and marvel at the incredible World of Warcraft themed decor in EVERY room. At some point we have lost Beau, we return downstairs and find him in the living room with the mom who is still feeding her baby. Beau is using her leg to steady himself as he strips naked, because we're indoors so obviously it must be naked time. You can imagine the look on the lady's face, trying to feed/shield her child while my son patiently reassures her with some gibberish that probably translated to this,

 "Hi, do you come with the house? I like your baby. Can you help me get my pants off my shoes and is there a specific corner to poop in or this a free range household?"

I rescued the poor woman, clothed my child and we began backing towards the door. The leasing agent continued to go on and on about the amazing perks that come with the house, you know things like a dishwasher and washer/dryer hookups. Conner takes this as a sign to march into the kitchen and look for a snack, because you know since we were there why not demand a sandwich from poor couch lady.  He is put off by the fact that all the food does not come with the house and decides he doesn't want to live here. We scoot on out and let couch mom go back to enjoying her too-young-to-be-poorly-behaved children.

 I hope we find something soon, because touring other people's homes is weird.

Friday, March 22, 2013

Big Girl Panties

It's been one of those weeks, the kind you need a sense of humor to make it through.

 Conner brought us the flu Friday night and it has been a whirlwind week of vomit, diarrhea, and snot. I have cleaned discharge out of the carpet of every room of the apartment. I've caught puke in my hands. I haven't slept. I've been living mostly off girl scout cookies and oatmeal cream pies because I don't have the energy to cook. I smell. I'm really, reeeaaallly glad I got a flu shot last week, I'm also glad we're moving out of this stanky cave soon.

This morning at Target I ran over my own foot with a three seater shopping cart and the only thing holding my toenail together is last weekend's pedicure. I cried a little, because I'm a wimp, and assured the check out lady that no, I was not crying because this is the BAJILLIONTH time she has asked if I want a Red Card (and yes I want one, of course I want one!! I'm forgetful and I don't carry checks and for the love of RICE stop asking me!!)

To top it all off the round brown things I found on the carpet this afternoon weren't cocoa puffs, it was actually someone's POOP (BEAU AARON!!) and I touched it, WITH MY FINGER!!!! There's a small possibility Tillie ate some, I have no way of knowing, because holy crap it could be an infinite number of poopoo puffs that escaped his diaper!! Why are children so disgusting?!!

So it would seem I'm barely hanging on to sanity, but really this is every day, and let's be honest sanity is gone. This isn't so much out of the ordinary as it is just being mom. My morning vitamin is Tylenol because it's good for the aches and pains that have settled into my bones. Before I even get to that vitamin I lay in bed and wish I didn't have to get up, maybe I could sleep for ever. Sometimes I tell myself that I just can't do this anymore, it's too hard, I'm too tired, and this is not getting any easier. Then I suck it up. Because I don't know how to quit, actually I don't even think that's an option. I pull on my big girl panties and face the days that just keep coming because, despite how hard it is now it looks like people actually survive this.

Being a mom is hard. Being a parent is hard (OK it's also hilarious, especially the part about poop). When other parents tell me how many kids they have I mentally finish the sentence with "and lived to tell the tale". Because parenting is about the most bad ass thing you will ever do and survive to talk about.

Thursday, March 7, 2013

new beginnings and fresh starts

You know how I've talked about being in school, well I graduate this May. For the last couple years I've scraped and hustled and pulled it together and even though it's an Associate's and not a Bachelor's I'm pretty damn proud. I started out in Dental Hygiene and now have some how ended up in Health IT and I love the field I'm heading into. I had my kids young but they've never held me back, I keep pictures of them in my notebooks and it reminds me why I keep coming back every semester. They make me stronger, they've taught me how to work hard and even though it was harder to do this with them I couldn't have done it without them.

I've spent all this time working towards this goal because even though I love my kids, I don't love being a stay at home mom. I've wrestled with the guilt because I know there are people who would love to be home with their kids and they can't be, so I should be appreciative of the opportunity and I do appreciate it, but I need something more. I've grown up with my kids, and I know more about myself now than I did when I had Conner at 21 or got married when I was 20.

So now I'm looking at the place all that hard work has brought me to. This week I landed a job with a great healthcare company as a Jr Clinical Analyst and I finally have my foot in the door doing what I want to do. After all the years we've struggled and barely survived I can see a light at the end of the tunnel. Now it's not a full time position, it's flexible and as needed and kind of perfect for where I am right now in my life. I even have great childcare for the kids, one of my best friends has offered to watch them three days a week so I can chase this experiment.

So why do I feel so guilty? I feel like no matter what I do as a parent I am consumed by guilt. I feel guilty for staying home with them and not doing more, I feel guilty for not staying home with them. I'm so sick and tired of feeling guilty all the time when I've worked so hard for this and I'm doing what makes me happy. So this is me letting go of all this stupid guilt, I'm going to feel proud of my hard work and enjoy the time I spend with my kids. I'm sick and tired of just surviving and it's time to let go and thrive.

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

just like that

So this morning started crappy. We came home last night to find that we had no power, and it had been out for a couple hours so no dry laundry. Power didn't come on until around 4am, and all the lights we didn't realize had been left on awakened us. Thanks to the darkness and lack of Netflix availability I did manage to get eight hours of sleep though, so it hurt a little less when the power went out again this morning before the coffee could finish brewing. Whatever, I'm over it. Although I did curse Tuesdays, until my husband reminded me that it's actually a Wednesday.

We got it together and were out the door, late, of course. On the way to the car Beau and I found a stranded worm destined to become bacon and I picked him and carried him to a little patch of wet dirt. As we stood over the worm proud of our good deed, a sparrow flew out of the nearby bushes right over our heads and snatched the worm from in front of us and was then gone. I screamed, of course, because seriously birds are freaky. Beau was traumatized, I was traumatized he cried over the worm all the way to car... and then for a little while longer just to make sure we got the point.

From there we went to Walmart, and days I haul my kids through Walmart alone are never good days. They're exhausting, sucky, hard work filled days. I pushed their whiney butts up and down aisles and through the check out then back out to the car to load a million groceries and three wild animals. Just as I was loading the baby in the woman who was parked next to me walked up and stood waiting to get in her car. I quickly cleared all my kids and stuff from her side so she could load her bags and leave. She commented on how tired I looked, and yep no coffee this morning so I look like death. She commented on how busy I looked, I juggled my two year old and four year old and diaper bag and answered yep, I was pretty busy. Then she did something unexpected...

This woman put her things in her car then came back around to my cart and asked what she could do to help me. I think my jaw hit the ground. People always comment on how exhausted I look, or how hard it must be to have three kids so young and so close together in age. I've never had someone stop and help. She loaded all my groceries while I strapped the kids into their seats and I thanked her over and over and then she left. You know what? Just like that my day was better and just a little easier and I'm thankful. I feel like I'm carrying a torch of kindness, or something cheesy like that, maybe I'll be out without my kids someday and can pay it forwarded to another stressed momma who just needs a little help.

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

being who you are

So y'all know I have four sisters (I also have a baby brother, and there are 17 years between us). I love my sisters, I can't even say it enough, I love them. I'm so proud of them, I'm amazed by them, and I'm inspired by these girls. I'm glad to have them in the lives of my children, even though they're miles away in Colorado and Wyoming, I'm so happy that my daughter has such amazing role models to look up to. My life is better because I know them.

These are all my siblings, sometimes we rock out at weddings.
Especially close to my heart is my sister Abbey, we're 18 months apart and she was my first best friend... my mud puddle buddy when we were little, and in high school she was forced to awkwardly chaperon my dates.  This past couple weeks my sister Abbey has reached a point in her life where she was able to see herself and who she is clearly. She took a good look at her heart and hopes and dreams and realized she knew what she wanted from life, she found where she belongs. Abbey is going to become a nun. I'm thrilled for her, ecstatic actually, and extremely proud. It takes courage to be who you are, especially if it means you don't fit into the norm, and my sister is a courageous bad ass.
old school picture of a few of us, Abbey has her head on Mom's shoulder, Kelly in Mom's lap, Shannon with the cute button nose, and I'm the one with brown hair.

I'm not super religious myself, if we're being honest I sit through church services only if I'm forced (usually by my mother) and it feels like torture. I spend most my time looking at the other adults around me wondering if they are also suffering or if maybe they're feeling something else, something holy. When we were kids my mom would make us kneel and pray rosaries with her in the afternoons, I spent my time praying the phone would ring, or the house would burn down.

Well, Abbey is the total opposite, she would go to mass every day if she could, she wants to pray rosaries daily, because it stirs something in her soul that I've never felt. Even though I'm a flaming heathen, I try, and my sweet sister never judges, never chastises, she has only love. Love for everyone, no matter race, religion, or sexual orientation  she's not perfect but she comes pretty damn close in my opinion. So I guess I can share her. Because the Catholic Church needs some good people, we all need some good people for that matter.

Congratulations Abb, Abbers, Miss Aberoo, sister, best friend. I'm happy you found who you are, you make my heart sing.

My Beautiful Sister Abbey

Monday, February 18, 2013

Family Update

So it's February, how did that happen? I guess that means Tillie will be one in less than three months, she's already lost that new baby smell... sniff. She has also hit that fear of strangers milestone, and my smiley happy, lovey baby has turned into the kid who roles he eyes at strangers and quietly blinks "fuck you" in Morse code.  Sucks for her because she is also super adorable so we are stopped constantly by strangers who ask "Can you smile for me pretty girl?" and Tillie stares them down blinking back "I hate you stranger of Walmart". That probably means the end of her baby modeling career...which I haven't gotten around to starting, but I've been thinking about it.

"If you HAVE to talk to me at least address me by my full title, Princess Tillie Poops"



Conner is into dinosaurs, like REALLY into dinosaurs. He knows all their names, their LATIN names. He corrects me all the time, and says he wants to be a paleontologist (and PS that word back there, all me, no spell check, I'm super proud right now... rejoice with me!). We have an army of dino toys, and fyi a lego is not the most painful thing you can step on. I've figured out Conner and Beau's spirit animals, Conner's is Ross Geller from Friends and Beau's is the honey badger. 

Nothing makes a grown woman cry like stepping on a pile of these when you're up making a bottle at 4am, except maybe Disney movies, Super Bowl commercials about horses, and everything else in the whole world... damn you hormones!!

That brings us to Beau our resident bad ass. Beau still refuses to be potty trained, I think we'll fix that once it gets warmer though because I have a trick that worked with Conner. I would fill up the kiddie pool and strip Conner nekid and tell him he could play as long as he wanted but if he pood or peed in the pool he was doneso, no more water and no more pool that day. We only had to dump it once, and he got on board with potty training a week later. So I'll wait and trick Beau into wanting to be potty trained come summer time.

We are almost at the end of lease at the apartment we've been renting for the past year and we're really starting to feel like renting just is NOT our style anymore. We're kind of stuck in a tight spot trying to qualify for a house because our credit isn't great and since I'm home with the kids we aren't rollin' in the dough either. We'll see though, I think this is a year of big changes for us *crosses fingers* I've applied for a couple jobs and I finish my Associates in May.... so we'll see where life takes us I guess. I hate not having though, I hope something comes through soon because I would like to have an idea where we're going next.

Monday, February 11, 2013

Don't Forget Your List GIVEAWAY

So here's the giveaway I was telling you about earlier. I'm giving away three free downloads of the app "Don't Forget Your List", isn't that awesome! I'm just wanna give a big thank you and shout out to the Mommas who are going to hook three of my readers up with this cool app, THANK YOU!!

All you have to do are jump through a few hoops... not really actually, you don't do anything you're not already doing (yeah, I know you're just hangin' out Facbooking and Pinteresting and Twittering, you don't fool me) You have one week to put in your entries and you can  put in more votes everyday. The winner will be auto selected by Rafflecopter so it is totally fair and random. 

Winners are asked to do a quick iTunes review of the app after they've used it for a little while to help spread the word. So now if you're totally ready... here it is... have fun... good luck.



   a Rafflecopter giveaway

Don't Forget Your List!

Hey y'all! Today I'm taking a break from hilarious stories about my cuter than average children to talk to you about something serious. Something that affects all mothers, something I deal with everyday, it's called... mommy brain. Mommy brain is a debilitating disease that begins with pregnancy and apparently lasts, umm I don't know, forever!

I know I'm not the only one suffering here, but I have something that could make it just a little bit better. Are you ready for it... I'm about to blow. your. mind.



Don't Forget Your List is an amazing app that I am incredibly excited to tell you about! This app allows you to save the GPS location of stores or places you go often and then create a list associated with that GPS location. Then when you come within a certain range, either a mile, half a mile, or a quarter mile, your phone alerts you to the fact that you have a list for a store nearby. Awesome, right?!

I've been using this for a little over a week and I LOVE it! I have an alert for the library, the post office, Walmart, Target, and Kroger. I'm finally remembering to drop off the Netflix (so my husband is SUPER happy about this app as well). I'm thinking I might even put in an alert for all the Dunkin' Donuts places in my area because yes I'm crazy and obsessed and geeez their coffee is AMAZING!

Another GREAT thing about this app, it was created by two sisters, who are also moms (and obviously incredibly smart). I think that just adds to the charm of "Don't Forget Your List"... well that and the fact that it's only $1.99.... so yes I am telling you that you can basically replace the brain cells your children damaged for only $1.99.

So if you are like me and think you would love this app check out "Don't Forget Your List's" Facebook Page their website or their iTunes page.

Also PS. I'm over at Circle of Mom's top 25 Mom Bloggers just chillin' around #160 so if you want to add a vote I would love it!

Friday, February 1, 2013

Bug Redemption

A few of you may remember my post The Bug, a story in I which fearlessly defend Beau from a giant flying bug with nothing but my bare hands and the electric flyswatter they were holding. HA! More like a tale where I ran around screaming and confirmed all the neighbors suspicions that I have, in fact, lost my mind.

Well I have a new story for you today, a story where good wins out over evil, mothers defend their offspring, and Beau is once again attacked by a bug. 

Our story begins as we are cruising and perusing the aisles of Walmart, I parked my three seater minivan of shopping carts at the end of an aisle to get a better look at some oddly shaped hunting knives. Suddenly from the cart I hear Beau screaming, "Mom, Mom, Mom, Mommy, MOMMMMMM!!!! My knee!!!!!" 

Casually I answer, "Quiet Beau-ee, your knee is fine, you need a kiss? Here I blew you one." *smooch*

"Mom, Mom, Mom, MOMMMYYYYY, MOMMMMMM!!! Hep! HEPPPPP!! A PIEDER!!!"

"Pieder" translates to spider so I decided to maybe cruise by and take a gander. You never know with Beau, he's terrified of spiders and often confuses things like toe jam, dirt, and every bug that moves for a spider. Well as I come to take a closer look I see that for once Beau is right, a brown spider is dangling a few inches above his little knee and he can't escape. He is strapped into the seat and the PIEDER is coming RIGHT for him!

Without even thinking I jumped in to save my baby, actually I think I screamed something like "MYYYY BAAABAYYYYY!!!" Than I open palm, bitch slapped that spider out of the air, did you catch that I SLAPPED A SPIDER OUT OF THE AIR!!!! Spider landed on the ground and was then trampled as I ran in circles screaming intermittently and repeating over and over "Conner! Did you just see that?!!" 

I grabbed poor traumatized Beau baby, Conner missed the whole thing, of course. Gah! So basically I looked like the John McClane of spider squashers, and NOBODY saw!! Oh well, I retold it here EXACTLY as it happened, so now you can all stand witness to the fact that I have redeemed myself after Beau's last bug attack. 

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

5 things I was NEVER going to do as a parent

Before I ever had kids I had a whole list of things I was NEVER going to do as a parent. Things I observed other parents doing in grocery lines, parks, and public events. Things I could do SOOOOO much better once I had kids, because obviously I was a parenting expert... NOT! Oh my GAWWDDDD, I know better now, and I'm pretty sure I've violated every rule on the list, I'm even violating a few right now. 

So read my list and be glad you didn't know me before I had kids, I would have been the lady standing behind you in the check out line smiling condescendingly as your kids misbehaved. 

1. My kids will ALWAYS wear clothes that fit and are in style.
I'm just happy if my kids agree to wear clothes, my boys would much rather be cruising Walmart in the buff. I'm not even kidding when I tell you I have had to explain to my boys that not everyone is as impressed with their private parts as they are (they get that from their dad....). Also, WTF is wrong with the makers of children's clothing!!! There are no uniform clothing sizes, I have to have a child with me as a size reference to even be able to buy clothing and shouldn't 24 months and 2T be the SAME FREAKIN' SIZE!!! 

2. My kids will never leave the house without having their hair brushed.
You know, because first thing in the morning somewhere in between forcing the agile nudists into clothing and taking breakfast orders, ("I want TOAST!!!" "What do you want on your toast?" "Scrambled eggs!!") I have time to sit down with a comb and water and neatly put every child's hair in place. Uh no, I don't even have time to put my own hair in place... I barely keep my do "contained'.

3. I'm never going to have one of those hitting kids, or biting kids, or not sharing brats, it's ALL about parenting and I won't tolerate that behavior.
OK, really my kids are pretty good, we don't generally have these issues buuuuttttttt.... I've learned that at some point everyone has THAT kid. The one who bites, hits, or randomly decides he can't share ANYTHING.... ugh, it happens to ALL.OF.US! 
You would think he would have learned by now the meltdowns get him NOTHING but it's still his go to move. 

Following that train of good behavior judgement...

4. My kids will ALWAYS behave in the checkout line... and not just because I'm bribing them.
Ok, last week while I was checking out at Walmart and the cashier was complimenting me on how cute and well behave my kids were, Beau leaned over and bit the holy crap out of Conner's arm. I wanted to die, just melt away into the hideous grey linoleum and flippin' DIE! Beau's not typically a biter but they were playing zombies, and Beau ALWAYS goes full zombie. So..... let's go ahead and scratch that one off the list. Oh, and as far as bribery goes, dumdums, I usually have a couple dumdums in the car just in case shit hits the fan.  Let's be realistic here, if I turned the car around and went home every time there was a meltdown... we would all starve to death because I would NEVER get to go grocery shopping... ya know what I mean.

5. My house is going to be neat and tidy, having kids doesn't mean your house has to be messy.
Yeaaahhhhhh........ I was that chic. I wasn't a neat person before I had kids so I'm not sure how I thought adding four more people into the mess was going to make cleaning easier or more enjoyable. I like to justify the mess by saying, it's just laundry, and toys... I mean if we were REALLY messy we'd be scraping stuff out of the carpet, naming mice, and telling our friends and family to check us out on an episode of Hoarders next week. So maybe.... I AM NEAT and TIDY!!!! Nope, definitely not...

Friday, January 18, 2013

Listen to my WORDS!!!!

Watching the kids while they play at the playground hang at pool I've started to notice something.My kids are not great listeners, like straight up hear what you say than do WHATEVER the crap they want. Conner at least can be coerced into better behavior by the promise of candy or the threat of letting his sister lick all his transformers.  Beau on the other hand truly does not care, he wakes up in the morning and says to the world "Is that the worst you can do?!" When life hands Beau lemons he licks them and then gleefully watches as Conner cries, because Conner can't eat a lemon that has been licked by Beau. What can I say... I raised a tiny bad ass who refuses to be duped into obedience.

I'm not alone though, I've been watching all these other moms and their kids don't listen either. The mom who yells in Russian, the mom who yells in Japanese, even the mom who yells in Spanish... all those different languages and we are all ignored equally by our kids.

I did observe something interesting though. Beau, who is usually knowingly misbehaving really seems to respond to the angry yelling of foreign mothers. Apparently there is one thing that scares that kid into getting it together, and that is having someone else's mom yell at him in Russian... or Japanese, or Spanish... whatever. I told him 20 million times to stop throwing wood chips, and when he picked up that 20 million-and-oneth handful, the Russian mom yelled at her son to stop climbing up the slide. Beau looked startled, dropped the chips and slowly backed away towards the jungle gym. 

So here's my new plan, I know a little Spanish (I can order a cheese burger and ask where the bathroom is located)so the next time I'm out with my kids and Beau is ignoring me I'm going to stand up point at him and yell "Un hamburguesa con queso y papas FRITAS, por FAVOOOORRR!!!!!" that should bring him back to reality, if not I'll try this "DONDE esta el BAN-YOOOO!!!" 

Thursday, January 17, 2013

Merry Christmas...?

So, I have four amazing sisters and I love them like crazy! As the oldest I have quite the reputation to uphold, even though I'm the only one with kids I like to think they still consider me hip, cool, and with it. So when my two sisters who live in Wyoming sent us a holiday package, you can only imagine how flattered I was to receive this,


I opened my present and saw this little glass doohickey and thought maybe they had overestimated how cool I really was. I stared at it for a while, turned it over, looked for the little holes where you poke the marijuana in (I went to college, I know what's up, and I damn sure know you poke some stuff in somewhere). There were no holes. 

Sooooo, another idea popped into my head. I ran to the kitchen and stuck it in a wine bottle. Obviously, I'm so cool they got me a drinking accessory. Something orange and fabulous to grace the half finished wine bottles scattered across my kitchen counter tops. Didn't fit though, definitely not a wine bottle cap, that spindly little stick part held things up. 

Than it hit me. 

I ran out on the deck to the flower pots that hold my collection of dead plants and last Halloween's pumpkins (they still aren't rotten, wtf, I feel bad throwing them out when they would make good squirrel food, but of course the squirrels aren't eating them). I stuck that little mushroom into the dirt, and boom, that's where it fits. My pots look a little bit more festive now. Apparently they did not overestimate my coolness, they were basically dead on... potted plant accessories are awesome :)

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

2013


My resolution for this year is to start being nicer to myself. Over the past couple years home with the kids I’ve become a real bitch and although Nic would probably argue he bears the brunt of it, that just isn’t the case. I’m mean, rude, and straight up obnoxious, and if I spoke to my friends the way I speak to myself I wouldn’t have any.  If I listened to that voice all the time I wouldn’t have a blog, I wouldn’t be in school, there are a million things I would have bullied myself out of doing.   

Every time I think of something I want to write, or make, or just succeed at that voice in my head pops up and the first thing she says is, who cares. Who cares about your opinion, who cares about your crappy art, who cares about your life.  Then she moves on to, you suck. You suck at writing, you suck at housekeeping, your attempts at parenting are pathetic.  That bitch could go on for days and never shuts up, and the worst part is that bitch is ME.  

I want what I hear in my head to be positive so what comes out of my mouth will be positive.  When my kids grow up I want that voice in their head to be a cheerleader not a mean girl. As I teach them how to treat others I also want them to learn how to treat themselves, with the same kindness you should show everyone. 

So 2013 is the year of, go Kerri you rock! Instead of talking shit to myself I’m going to start bragging on myself and giving myself credit for everything I do.  I’m trying new things and I really don’t give a crap what anyone else thinks about what I’m doing, because I’m doin’ this for me! Actually it goes beyond this year, this is my life change, because who needs New Years to make a change when you can start over any time. I’m slowly learning that there isn’t a single person who has judged me as harshly as I judged myself, that girl in my head is a liar and I’m not listening anymore.