What to do with this hair?!?

Alright, so I'm trying to grow it out. Growing your hair out is never easy. It's just not. And it goes through all these awkward "I don't know what to do with this" stages. Which is where I am now.

Thursday night I had the tv on (because I was actually watching 30 Rock and Scrubs) and this show came on...now, I've never been a big Posh Spice fan (sorry, you can put out all the upscale lines of clothing and act as snooty as you want, but once you've done something like the Spice Girls, your name will always be Posh...and that's not a good thing, just in case you weren't sure).

But I do love her hair. I think it's really cute....and unfortunately very trendy. I usually don't "do" trendy hair....but I really like it. And I read up on the internet and it's rated "easy to take care of" which is really important to me....since I don't have a stylist to follow me around while I strike random poses around my house like Mrs. Posh does.

Since my hair was already such an "I don't know what to do with it" wreck. I trimmed up the sides a little so it looked cleaner and a little more angled down like I want it to me. I thought it was an improvement.

The hubby barely noticed (he did have quite a day...which I'll probably blog about because I doubt he will) and when I showed him the pictures of how I want it to look eventually he gave me a look like I was insane (or stupid) and said "but her hair is a lot longer than yours".

Yeah it is genius. That's why I'm growing it out.

Jordan's comments were, "I don't like that tattoo. And you don't have blond hair".

I have no support around here.

I hate gum...

So does my husband. He hates it because he thinks it's a choking hazard. I hate it because it's nasty.

I think it started with the friend I had in high school. She had two habits that I just didn't understand: falling asleep with gum in her mouth, and forming attachments to random objects.

At least once a month she would call me crying, frantic because she had once again fallen asleep with gum in her mouth....and when she woke up the gum was all over the precious object of the week....the one she couldn't sleep or live without.

I don't know where her mom was in during all these gum fiascos. Maybe she was just as grossed out as I was and had previously washed her hands of the whole deal. But for whatever reason, I ended up being the go to person in removing gum.

And I hated it. It was nasty. And I don't care how long your freeze it, how much peanut butter you use, or what other miracle method you find....you can never truly remove gum from a teddy bear, a boyfriend's sweatshirt, or wubby. Why a 16 year old girl still needed a wubby was beyond me....but she still slept with it even after we couldn't get the gum off!

So when my oldest child went to school, and people started giving him gum....I was thoroughly grossed out. I don't like to hear the stuff being chewed. What's worse.....when you're done with it.....you have to do something with it. You have to spit it out.

Let's get one thing straight. I don't spit. Ever. Yuck. I don't like to watch people spit. Just seeing it is enough to make me gag.

So when my kids spits out gum, I want nothing to do with it.

I don't want anything to do with it when I find it on the floor BESIDE the trash.

I certainly don't want anything to do with it when I find it stuck to the wall. (to learn that it was stuck to the wall because DAD told him to put it there so they wouldn't have to pause the xbox to throw is away made steam come out my ears).

And I don't want anything to do with it when my kid comes to me because someone gave him the bright idea to put his gum behind his ear. You know, in his hair? The hair he was growing out last year. That was the final straw. No more gum in my house. He can have it when he's 18 and he moves out.

I still can't get away from gum though. On a recent outing with friends....the friends had brought along some bug spray for everyone to use at dusk. She pulled the bottle out of the bag and discovered her little girl had put her gum on the lid.....as a kind of holding spot for the gum. Everyone laughed and giggled as I retracted my outstretched hand and shied away from the contaminated spray.

It was rude, and I'm sorry.

But I can't help it.

I really hate gum.

My Life - Soundtrack by the Beatles.

Okay, I know with the volume of Beatles music, really, ANYONE could create a soundtrack to their life. But since my kids are so into it (that and freaking Rhinocerous Taps...and if I have to listen to that crappy cd one more time I'm going to drive off the overpass. Not really, but I hate that cd)....and we listen to the Beatles a lot........and I tend to be introspective while driving the car....there you have it. My life, by the Beatles.

So a few weeks ago it was Lady Madonna.....today was Help.

Which is kind of odd...because I had a pretty good day. Busy, but alright.

But we were out of the house all morning. Shopping (but not spending much money) and having an all around good time. I was really dreading coming home though.

The house is trashed. I just can't keep up with being a mom to my kids, driving Jordan to all his various things, shopping for the family, my new job, getting myself to the doctor, and keeping the house clean. So if something's got to go undone...it's the house.

Hey, I figure the laundry and toys will still be here tomorrow. And my kids don't seem to mind the clutter...

Anyway....Help is a very good song for that kind of thing. Because I remember (when I was younger so much younger than today) having one kid, who happened to be in school all day. Only having to vacuum once a week. To clean the kitchen once a day. To do laundry every week in a half.

It's not that the little one is so messy (well, I mean, she kind of is) but while I'm busy chasing her and cleaning up after her and trying to figure out where she put my glasses.....I can't...umm....gently remind....the boys to clean up their crap.

It's a mess around here...and I hate it.

So HELP, I need somebody, help, not just anybody. Help, you know I need someone....HELP!

One Schexy Mama

So, a few months ago I'm at the dentist. The sweet little hygienist is fawning over my teeth, how she can tell I floss a lot, blah, blah, blah, she's praising me and I love it. Then my very nice dentist comes in and echos the praises over my dental health.....then he says "hmmm".

You know it's not good when they say that.

"Rebecca, do you grind your teeth when you sleep?"

Erm, how should I know? I'm asleep.

Then he starts to ask about jaw pain and headaches.....yeah. Now that you mention it.....and when I wake up in the morning, my mouth does tend to ache a little.

He recommended I get a night guard. A mouth piece.

No way. Absolutely no way man! You can just forget it. I mean, retainers are for high school kids.....married women do not put appliances in their mouths at night (shut up). They just don't.

So I tried to forget it. I figure I didn't used to do that...it just started one day. And one day it will stop again.

Then I start noticing that I really clench my jaw when I'm awake too! Without realizing I'm doing it! Until it starts to hurt......then I mentally smack myself and tell myself to knock it off. The weird thing is, when I notice it most....when I'm chopping things in the kitchen. Weird.

Well, I finally got tired of waking up with a headache and having my jaw feel all tense and tired in the morning. Plus, we ran out of Motrin.

So on my weekly trip to Target LOOK WHAT I GOT.

So now I'm one schexy mama. In a very Sid the Sloth kind of way.

I tried it out last night...but I only wore it half the night. I don't sleep well with a big piece of plastic in my mouth. Plus, sometimes my husband snores. He'll stop if I tell him to....but poking and kicking do nothing. So last night after a fitful few hours of sleep he woke me with his snoring. I kicked and poked to no avail, then finally took the thing out, told him to stop snoring, and I went to sleep.

I'll try it again tonight.

Hubby is okay with the whole thing. I think he actually likes it. See, now he has if figured out that if I put the thing in my mouth, he might as well roll over and go to sleep. If I turn out the lights first, he can try and put the moves on me.

It's his little get lucky indicator.

I promise to wait at least another month before grossing you out with info like that again!

What I've been doing today....

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I have a new blog! No, it's not going to take the place of this one....so if you want all the mundane details of my life you're still going to have stop in here. It's also not solely "mine"....I have a few ladies who will probably be helping me with some of the content...and the name is temporary because I was highly un-creative last night. So as you can see, it's still very much a work in progress.

But if you'd like to hear all about saving some money (or the crazy thing I do to occupy my time out in the real world) then stop on by!

Baby Bliss

Well, my friend had her baby and I went to visit today. Oh she's cute!

Yes, I have a serious case of baby fever. I would SO love to have more babies......but there's this one little catch....I don't ever want to be pregnant again. That last time was awful! It's not the labor, I can do that (I have labors that are quick and easy....please don't hate me for it!) it's the 9 months of misery leading up to it that I want no part of.

Oh, and there the little fact that Hubby says, in no uncertain terms, that he's done. So we've agreed, each for our own reasons, that the two kids we have are plenty for us. Or course, we've taken to permanent steps to make sure that doesn't happen....but we aren't planning on it.

Most of the time I'm fine with it...until I see someone and their brand new baby. I need a pair of baby blinders to wear out in public or something. Something that guards me from their cuteness! Celia is no help either, with all this talk of her "baby sister".

Of course, there's also the fact that I won't ever have to do the sleepless nights, the diaper blow-outs, the colicky evenings again...that's helpful. And it won't be too much longer until I gain from freedom from my kids and get something of a life back.

See, I'm happy with the age difference in my kids. They don't fight a whole lot, there's no sibling rivalry.....but the negative of this is that I remember what it's like to have an older kid. How much easier it gets.

Because when you have a baby, your life changes so much that you really can't remember what life was like before kids. I can't....none of the moms I know really can. I mean, you can remember some of the things you DID, but exactly what in the world did you DO with all that TIME? No one knows.

Here's the thing though....when you kid turns about 4 or 5....you get some of that time back. First, they really get pretty good at cleaning up after themselves at that ages (and at not just being an eternal mess all of the time). They start getting into toys that amuse them for longer periods of time. Then they go to school. I remember that. The change from going to one kid to two kids is not as big as from none to one. We had 3 years where Jordan was in that "easy to care for big kid" stage before we had another baby again.

I remember that stage of life....when you only have to vacuum once a week. Or things stay clean for longer than 5 minutes. Or you aren't so frazzled that you can't remember what you had for breakfast, but you do know you haven't had time to pee for at least 8 hours. That's a nice place to be. And I'm almost there again.

So while I'm a little sad that I'll never have another bundle of love to call my own...I can be comforted in the joy of my own two (really awesome) kids and be a little secretly happy that with each passing moment, I get a little bit of myself back.

Poopin' Machine

Man, I'm beat. And I did nothing today.

But I didn't go to sleep until almost 2 last night (why oh why must HBO put Big Love on at 9? 10 would work so much better for me. we had to stay up until 12 to watch it replay!) and then had to get up every so often with my sweaty, fevered toddler.

So today we went to the pediatrician....she does not have strep (thank goodness) just some little viral thing like a cold. Except instead of runny nose and cough, she has a headache. And I think her throat hurt today.

Since all she wanted to eat today was fruit, all she did this evening was crap.

She was feeling much better though and was her normal goofy self. Which means my entire evening was punctuated by "Mom, I gotta poop, RUN!" And run I would. Even though we had put a PullUp on (just in case) and even though I have a pinch in my back from sleeping with here. I would scoop her up and run and she would giggle "Run mom, run! I'm a poopin' machine!" That she was. Thankfully, I was fast enough (and she was...well, in control enough) and we made it. Every time.

Soo, now that you've read all about my kid's crap, do you want to see some vegetables? Good, I though you might....... 'cause here they are!

First off, a pumpkin. I actually have many of these. Now sure, I could kill off all but one or two and try for a monster pumpkin...but I actually prefer to have lots of little ones. Plus, well, I'm not really one to put all my eggs in one basket like that.



And a tomato. I went with plum tomatoes this year. No particular reason.



Lastly, the teeniest tiniest watermelon ever! Isn't it cute! it's got a lot of expectations piled on it's little round head though....because out of my 4 watermelon plants, this is the only melon we've got. Grow baby grow!

A Case of the Mondays

Looks like Celia has a case of the Mondays....poor girl. She has a good excuse though. She's sick. She's contracted some mystery illness that has yet to be determined. She got up this morning with a mid-grade fever and a headache. She doesn't feel good and her whole agenda for the day consisted of laying around and picking on mommy.

First she pulled all the clips from my hair (she hates hair clips. Last week she pulled one out and it ripped my hair out. Now I have a patch of exceedingly short hair...right up front. Nice). Then we had to have a 20 minute conversation about boobies. Then about my squishy belly. Then she ripped off my shoes and picked the polish off my toenails.

In between bouts of picking at mommy she chugged Motrin and played with stickers. The saving grace of the whole day is that our good friend got a puppy (which are, in my opinion, the best kind of puppies...the kind that go home with someone else) and promised to bring it by. it is indeed just the cutest little puppy ever ad Celia is very excited because it lives at her best friend's house. So she knows she'll be seeing quite a bit of it.

Tomorrow morning we'll have to re-evaluate. If she still has a fever we pay a visit to our favorite pediatrician, Dr. Steele. He is an excellent doctor...plus he makes the most realistic bird sounds I've ever heard. Both my kids like him a lot. Except while there we'll have the gaggingly pleasant strep test....because apparently there is a version of Strep that the only symptoms are fever and headache.

If she doesn't have a fever then we have two options to consider. It could be another popular virus that's been going around (again, only symptoms are fever and headache) and we're done. Or it could be stage one of some very fun disease that ends with a rash. You know, chicken pox, 5th disease, or any other number of fun scratchy things. In any case, I'm keeping her away from other kid for the rest of the week until I see if anything else is going to pop up.

In other news, I had a breakthrough in time management today. Not only did I get my 2.5 hours of BzzAgent work done, I also did a bunch of laundry and some other really important housecleaning things. And some random sit ups. And ate a bunch of ice cream. And got bit by a bunch of mosquitoes. I think that's all.

Click on by, Boys!

That's right. There's nothing to see here, and I'm getting ready to talk about all things womanly, so here's your warning to find something else to read.


Go ahead, shoo....

Are they gone yet?

Good. So here's my big joyful news......my period came early this month!

Now let me tell you why this is such great news for me and every single person that I come into contact with on a daily basis.....

For the past (at least) four months I've been terribly hormonal. It's been bad. Real bad. And to top it off, usually when I get super stressed my period refuses to come like it's supposed to. And while I'm stressed out because of something really wacky going on with my hormones, it refuses to come and each and every day that passes is worse and worse than the one before.....until I start to get worried that I might kill a person if it doesn't come. And finally it will. A week late ....or like last month a very torturous nine days!

So lately that's how my cycle has been. I'll finally get it and have two days of residual hormones and anger. Then it's like the tide changing, like that fast. I wake up on the 3rd day and everything is okay again. I feel good about the world. That lasts for about a week. Then the nosedive starts. And let me just tell you that three to four weeks of nosediving is a long way down.

Mostly it's the hormones.....I'm a mess. Crying over EVERYTHING, just seething with anger about absolutely nothing for weeks at a time. But the headaches suck as well. Just waking up with a headache every day is enough to make you want to crawl back in bed (especially when you know no amount of Motrin is going to make it go away)!


But this month....no nosedive! It's been almost like waiting for the other shoe to drop. I had my good week, then I started last week. Which could have been bad because I was REAL busy. But it was okay. I don't think I even really cried once! Then this morning, surprise.

Well I'll take it. I will gladly trade my monthly hormonal rage for a few more periods a year. Someone print out the contract, because I'm ready to sign on the dotted line for this one!




Chris, I know you're probably reading this thinking "Hey, what about that 'I don't feel you're being very supportive' discussion there other night"? Sorry buddy, no hormones there. I didn't even cry much, did I? That was all real and can't be blamed on anything like cycles or hormones....just life circumstance. But I do feel much more supported now after you took care of some of the huge pile of crap I didn't know how to do around the house. Thank you. And yes, I did eat all that ice cream. Eat some more soy food, will ya?

We got a Wii!

Well, technically Jordan got a Wii. His grandparents bought it for him for his birthday.

But it's in the living room right now since there is more floor space than in Jordan's room. So we all get to play lots of it.

You get to make your own little person, call a Mii. You can make them look just like you! Or however you want to look, in my case. My Mii has hip spikey hair and perfect lipstick. Two things I never have in real life, but my Mii is way cool so she has them.

Everyone seems a little worried that my favorite game is boxing. I really like it. I take great joy in beating the crap out of my family. In the game of course. I would never hit them in real life. But in the game, I kick serious butt. I am a force to be reckoned with. I am MOMMY, the destroyer.

So my apologies in advance if my blog seems a bit empty the next few days. I may be busy. My Mini Mii and I have to practice while the boys are away and increase both my boxing butt-kicking skills and my tennis game.

It's very important. Seriously. You can't even know.

I Turn Blue....

...when I'm cold and wet, just like a little kid in the pool. Not all of me. I'm not a smurf for crying out loud! Just my lips...and hands....and feet. It's kind of freakish, and apparently it really bothers some people.

Yesterday we had a soccer game. I was going to do pictures beforehand, but the weather was on and off rain, so I cancelled those.

Then we had the big weather debate before walking out the door. Should Chris and Celia come to the game, or stay home. (We try to all be at events, but no reason for everyone to get wet!). The radar looked okay, like the worst of the rain had passed, so we loaded everyone in the car.

We got to the field and started loading the stroller up for the trek to the field and Chris asked where the umbrella was.

Umbrella? I didn't pack an umbrella! I got both kids in the car, each with all their gear! Jordan had all his soccer stuff, Celia had a sippy, stroller, snack, and change of clothes. I had all my coaching stuff....clipboard, treats for the boys, goalie gloves and shirts. An umbrella was asking a bit much.

Well, we got to the field, I warmed the boys up. We had a full team, so that was great. The other team got there (it was an out of county match, which always makes me nervous...I know all the coaches in our county. They are nice guys and teach good soccer) and they also had read shirts....so my boys got to wear yellow vest.

The other coach was a BIG burly man. His first words to me (and the reason I blame him completely for getting go wet) were, "Did you play last night? Boy, it just poured down the rain. 'Course, my boys could swim and play soccer, so it don't matter much. Hey, you like my #2? He scored me 20 goals last night. Over 60 this season".

Dude. Why are you telling me this? I really don't care. I'm trying to coach soccer over here. I have about 3 boys who don't "get" the game yet...and need pretty much constant coaching (not how I like to do things. I prefer to teach in practice and let them play....for the most part....at the games) whether they are in the game or on the bench.

Shortly after that brief exchange. It started raining. Not bad at first. Meanwhile, #2 was whomping my boys. Score at halftime was 5-1. Not good.

Celia and Chris spent most of the game under a huge golf umbrella with another team dad (and thankfully, one of our best friends). Celia was in her massive jogger stroller, the other dad in his chair, and Chris couched facing him....watching the game over his shoulder. It looked questionable, to say the least. At one point (Chris told me) some people were admiring Celia and he gazed up at the other dad and said, "Given the circumstances, they probably think she's OURS"

About two minutes before halftime the unpleasant drizzle turned into an absolute downpour. At one point, I was afraid my contacts were going to wash out of my eyes. We cut halftime short to get back to the game and get it over with....then had to pause everything and retreat to the concession stand because of lightening.

The ref (who was great!), burly coach and I all had a pow-wow on if we wanted to wait the required 30 minutes after lightening to resume the game, or call it and go home. I left it up to Burly Coach....because they drove 30 minutes to get to this game, and they'd have to drive (through weather) home. Okay....maybe that wasn't the real reason. I wasn't caving to any Burly Man. I'd be happy if he wanted to call the game, but no way was I going to say....eh, I'm cold and wet, let's all go home.

Plus, I looked around at the boys and they were having a ball running around in the mud. I wanted to give them a shot at actually playing the game.

After 30 minutes of waiting....everyone had hot chocolate (thanks to a very nice team dad...since the coach didn't even bring her purse or anything to the field...), I only had to clear the boy's restroom once (there was a hot air hand warmer in there and there was about to be a fistfight over it) we got back to the game.

I gave the boys a talk about #2....put on the pressure, don't wait on him....and contain (that was the word of the week at training). I'm really proud of them (especially my kid!) because they did a great job. They only let him get 1 more goal....then Jordan scored a goal.

But about the turning blue....yeah. I guess the ref was quite worried about it. He came up to me several times with a "You need to go in and get warm, coach" suggestion.

And boy I did. Just as soon as we got home, I decided that new bathroom fan really needed to be tested to see if it cleared steam from the bathroom. I took the longest, hottest shower EVER. And that fan works just fine!

Adventure on the Rail Trail

For those of you who don't live in WV, we have a really neat system of hiking/biking trails called Rail Trail. Basically, they are miles and miles of trails that follow an old railroad line. The tracks have been removed, and in some places they have been paved or covered in crushed gravel. They are pretty cool as you get to use the old train bridges or tunnels.

We have really been trying to walk more lately. Since we had no plans yesterday evening, we decided to hop in the car and drive the 10 minutes to Prickett's Fort State Park and walk on the Mon River Trail. As the name implies, it follows the river.

We've been stuck walking because....well, the cost of a bike for me and a bike trailer for Celia is a little much for us. Every time I walk the trail I get closer to buying one though!

Last night, we walked all the way to Catawba. Which may be a booming metropolis off the trail, the from the trail looks like the place that time forgot. There a big, white, boarded up house that sits right on the river. I want to buy it tomorrow, pry those boards off the windows, and move right in. (Because in my little fantasy, all the wavy old glass is intact under those boards and as soon as I wipe everything down with some Mr.Clean, it will be perfect). It's just so Fried Green Tomatoes.

I mentioned my fantasy to Chris and he shared with me in no uncertain terms I could put that one to rest. That's okay. Because in my fantasy, as I'm walking around the house checking it out, the neighbors come out. See, they own the property and hate the old place. They'll let me have it for just a couple grand if I just promise to do something with it. So every day Chris will go to work and Celia and I will drive out and just ramble around my big ole river house until we get it all fixed up and pretty and begin hosting river parties with the best ice tea you have ever tasted......and I won't be stressed out about my toddler getting out of the house and falling in the river that is RIGHT THERE because in this little dream, my girl doesn't run away at every given opportunity.

Okay, back to reality. It's a really nice trail. We got to cross a bridge and see lots of birds and little forest creatures. We saw one cardinal. That's the WV State Bird, in case you didn't know. So that makes them a little special. Not all that special though, because you can see them just about anywhere. We even have one brave bird (uh, we have 3 cats) living in the trees behind out house. He sits on our fence.

We also saw a cute little blue bird, which you don't see every day. Plus a chipmunk and a millipede (last time we saw one, I screamed and ran away). I did not personally see the nasty bug this time because Celia and I left the boys behind. See, my husband possesses this genetic abnormality that causes him to make noise ALL of the time. Singing, humming, clicking, whistling, tapping, never ending noise. He passed this on to our son. So Celia and I left the little noisemakers in the dust and moved to a quieter area.

She tends to be pretty quiet, with the occasional burst of conjugating her baby verbs. ("Boob-a fada, boob-a dada, boob- a mama).

So anyway, we made it all the way to Catawba. I looked at the map today, and it said it was only 0.9 miles. No way! That freaking map is WRONG. It's way farther than that.

On the way back we heard a train coming and really REALLY rushed to get back to the bridge I thought we might get to see the train cross....but it was across the river. Turns out that bridge we walk under turns into the MCTrail.....trains don't use it anymore.

He'd forget his head, if it wasn't attached.

This is what I tell Jordan's teacher as I drop his forgotten lunch off for the 47th time this year.

"Yeah, we've figured that one out too" She smiles and replies. Seriously, he'd be walking around like this:

Instead, he just takes funny pictures of himself with my MacBook camera and runs around forgetting some very important, non-attached things. Lunches, homework, money, socks...

Celia has a great time taking the lunch to his school. She feels like a real big girl. We don't stick around long though, because we had important stuff to do.

Like sit in my fancy smancy lawn chair and take pictures of Celia running around the yard and playing with the hose.


I know, I know, big waste of water. Not an environmentally friendly activity. In my defense, I only turned the water on a trickle and turned the hose on mist. Mostly so she couldn't spray me, but it did also help conserve water.



Oh, but my fancy smancy chair....boy do I love that thing! It's a cross between a folding camp chair and a lounge chair. It's heaven....in aluminum and mesh. We bought it when I was about 4 month pregnant with Celia. We were walking through Sams Club, and I spotted it. After 4 months of battling a rather wretched case of morning sickness (that lasted all dang day) in front of equally wretched middle school kids......I wanted nothing more than to sit in it. I gave Chris my "I really need that chair" eyes and told him my summer plans entailed sitting in THAT chair, in the shade, and not moving for 3 months. I think I even gagged a little, just to get the point across.

So we bought the chair, and I did sit in it all summer. We even took it to the beach and he carried it down there for me every day. And it's been sat in every summer since.

Okay, I have to rant about shorts. I just want to buy a nice pair of shorts. No one sells nice shorts this year.

Well, that's not true. I found some really nice ones at Banana Republic, but I'm not paying that much for a pair of shorts. Especially ones that may not look that great on me. I'm not quite as tall and leggy as the models they use....plus I sure won't be wearing heels with them!

Because I did go try on some shorts. The breezy cotton gauchos that look so comfy and cute. They made my butt look to be the size of New Hamphire! it was awful. I was embarrassed to be wearing them in front of my toddler in a locked dressing room.

I looked at some other shorts. They were so tiny I could have tanned my butt cheeks while wearing them. No thanks.

So I'm stuck with my breezy skirts....which I really like. I got two last year form Gap that I love. They are reversible....so it's really two skirts in one! Stretchy smocked waistline....very forgiving of the extra ice cream I might like to eat. Casual enough to wear over my swimsuit, still dressy enough to wear to church.

They do have a really irritating habit of flying up and (hmmm, how did Dave Mathew's say it...) showing my world, well, to the world at large. In the parking lot of Burger King nonetheless, while trying to change my toddler in my friend's Suburban as she is doubled over in laughter at my backside flashing all of Sabraton while I try not to drop my squirming toddler in an effort to cover my own butt.

Thank goodness I've never been one of those trendy, thong wearin' mamas!

I guess I'll just make sure all my panties match my outfits again this year....or at least until I can find some good shorts.

Woozy at the Dentist's Office.

Jordan had his big dental appointment this morning, the one to get his mouth all ready for braces. He had an extra tooth that needed to be removed, plus some cavities (he inherited my weak, deeply grooved teeth...poor kid). Anyway, we knew he was going to need to be sedated for the tooth removal and decided to all the unpleasant things (molds of his mouth for braces, a cavities, etc) at once.

We're kind of doing it step by step because, well, it's costly. We have dental insurance, be we still can't afford to do all of it at once. And the biggie that the insurance won't cover is sedation. But my little guy has worked up a serious case of anxiety over this....plus....no way would I get a tooth pulled while wide awake. I'm not going to expect my kid to do it. So we got all the nasty stuff taken care of while he was drugged up.

We scheduled it first thing this morning because he couldn't eat for 12 hours beforehand. He wakes up ravenous each day, so we figured the sooner we get it over with, the better. That meant all of us had to be out the door at 6:50 this morning, a full 40 minutes before we're usually awake.

He did great though! We admitted afterwards that he cried some during the shots, but that he didn't even feel anything else. He's still pretty dopey, and starved. He's done nothing but eat. And drink Coke. He never gets it, but the dentist recommended it and said to give him as much of anything he wanted to drink, so he's working his way through a two-liter. And loving every minute of it.

But the wooziness....oh it was awful. We went in the little consultation room for post-op instructions and such. She started talking about oozing and clots.....oh my. My ears started ringing, my face was tingling.......I had to ask her to stop talking and put my head between my knees for quite awhile. (What, you thought I was talking about the kid being woozy? The one who just had 2 hours of dental work and is doped to the gills? No, he's fine....)

So fine in fact that when I told the girl I was feeling woozy, he scooted fast as a cat to the other end of the bench, just in case there was some puking. No one wants to sit next to their mom when she pukes (though I wasn't feeling like THAT at all, just like I was about to hit the floor), even if they are floating on cloud nine!

Celia also had her very first cleaning. I made it through that one fine (as did she).

We're done with the dentist now for at least a month.

What Dreams May Come....and Why I Can't Watch The Daily Show.

I've always been prone to having hilariously weird, non-sensical dreams. I think it's because I eat junk food right before going to bed (also why I'm getting chubby).

Anyway, I had a conversation with my best friend about dreams yesterday and have decided to share with you some of the most memorable ones.

First, the one I called her to chat about, a dream I had Thursday night. I called her about it, because her kid was in it and I thought she ought to know.

We were getting ready for a soccer game. Only the soccer complex was out behind the new Super Walmart (you know, home of my recent identity crisis?). And Chris worked at Walmart, he was like a regional manager or something. Help us all.

Anyway, the game was getting to start to I ran across all the field to try and get Chris to come out and watch. He would not, and I ran all the way back out there. By the time I got to the field, I found the game was starting, but we only had 5 players. (U-10 plays with 6 on the field) so my friend had put her 3 year old in so that we didn't have to forfeit.

Oh, and this team we were playing, they were high school boys. Big high school boys.

So I'm just watching the game in shock and panic. Right before the 3 year old has to do a throw in, another one of my kids gets there so I'm standing on the sidelines with him screaming "Sub! Sub!" at the red because I KNOW she can't keep both her feet down for that throw in.

Anyway, half time rolls around and the boys come over and I wildly congratulate them because the other team has only scored once, and I say "Good job boys, I though we were going to get CRUSHED". What a stupid thing to say to a bunch of little boys. Thank goodness this is where I woke up.

Then she told me about her crazy dream Thursday night. It made her a little uncomfortable, so to make her feel better I told her about one of the worst, most mortifying dreams I've ever had.

See, I was having.....ummm.....relations............... with Jon Stewart. And he was totally not into it. And in his very clear, to the point but still sarcastic way, he was telling me just how I was NOT doing anything for him. A most certainly "It's not ME, it's YOU moment." But I just kept well.....doing what we were doing......determined to change his mind. Jon eventually got really angry, because frankly, I was wasting his time.

I used to love watching The Daily Show. It's news....but it's funny. What could be better than that?

But now every time I turn it on, I see nothing but the stern judgement of Jon Stewart.

To make matters worse, that man has a really irritating habit of showing up in other places. Things I want to be watching.

Like the Grammys.

And to make it worse, the very first thing he did was participate in a skit that ended with him standing on stage in his underwear.



That one right there sent me screaming from the room until everyone obliged me and turned the channel.

Can someone please tell Jon to keep his dang clothes on and stay off of network tv?

A Pain in my Neck!

Stress does weird things to you as you get older. This week I have a new one (for me). It is quite literally a pain in my neck.

It was fine all day yesterday (you know, when I had the opportunity for a free massage). And it felt fine this morning.

Then I had to hang a shelf. I think I've mentioned before that I am shelf hanging impaired. I have a real problem with the whole "straight and level" thing.

I may have also mentioned that the very pretty shelf I had hanging over the desk upstairs fell (the cheap bracket broke right in half!) two weeks ago....about 2 second after Jordan walked under it. Half a step slower and the kid would have had a concussion. But he was having a lucky day and made it out alive....though terribly frightened.

This shelf had been home to everything I didn't want Celia to have: pens, pencils, markers, scissors, envelopes, the few paper bills we still get, paper cutter. All that fun stuff. Luckily, I had an extra shelf just sitting around, looking for a home.

I've been asking Chris to hang it for me, but he hasn't gotten around to it. This morning I took the phone bill and markers away from Celia for the millionth time and had had enough. I decided to try and hang the shelf myself.

Target made the whole "straight and level" thing really easy for me. This is a floating shelf. You screw a long internal bracket to the wall, then put the shelf on. So all I had to do was hold the bracket up, with a level on top, and screw the thing in.

Easy as pie.

But then I couldn't get the danged shelf to hook on. And you can't see back there to figure out WHY it wouldn't hook on. I may not have uttered any swear words, but I sure was thinking them!

About the 47th time that dang shelf slipped off the bracket and almost crashed into the computer monitor and printer, that pain in my neck decided to show up.

Dang it.

Anyway, I finally got the up, just in time for a friend to come over and play. I abandoned all housework and took the girls outside.

First, we had to check out the pink flowery bush thing .



Then we had to swing a little. First, like mature ladies.


Then Celia had to swing on her belly like a crazed monkey. Not that you can tell it from this picture.....but I like it anyway.


Then we had to get out some chalk and color on the playset. Now, last year I painted some plywood with chalkboard paint and hung it in there. The boys have decorated it with sweet sentiments like "Stay Out" and such. The girls are happy to just scribble all over the playset.


Finally it's time to come in and eat. She's getting tired. I just love those little wisps of hair on her face!

My Husband, the Psychic.

At least he told my therapist he is.

Not really, but that's totally what it sounded like, and after that I could NOT stop laughing. I just sat in my chair snickering and giggling. For the rest of the appointment.

Which is not the best thing to do when you're talking to a therapist about your marriage. In my defense, the therapy session was pretty much a mute point anyway. We have already made it through the past two month's were he accidentally (sort of...I told him that it would suck, but it didn't think it would suck THAT bad, so he went ahead and scheduled everything. Halfway through he realized I was right, he scheduled too much and it really DID suck, but was already committed) scheduled an amazing amount of crap one after another. Needless to say his presense in the home (both physically AND emotionally, the latter being the part that irked me) was a little lacking. So we're done with all that, he's once again the present and helpful husband that I married (though I'm still a crazy loon and will continue therapy for some time on my own).

So going into this meeting, we were kind of relaxed because...well, everything had already been fixed.

So when she started asking Chris about his work , he started explaining the constantly changing aspect of it and how he likes it that way because he is "psyc-lik" like that. He meant cyclic. I totally got that.

She didn't though....just raised her eyebrows and asked him to explain what that meant, serious as can be.

Which is when I lost it. And never regained control. I hope we don't have to talk about that when I'm in next week.

In other news, it was spa day at MOPS. I got my eyebrows waxed (for the first time ever.....but don't go thinking I was a big uni-brow mess before today, I can assure you I was not!) a massage and did a yoga-ish stretching session with some sports therapist guy.

Which led me to another bout of uncontrollable snickering and giggling. Most of the moves he demonstrated were followed by an "advanced level" of the move. You know, something fast and wild looking. And they were all kind of funny...wild arms flapping around thing.

But then we got to stretching the umm...pelvic region. As we're all standing on one leg trying to stretch our pelvic muscles, trying desparately not to fall over, I joke with the mom next to me about the advance move for that one, thinking surely.....surely there would be none.

Oh but there was. There was. Gyration like I have never seen before (in a church no less!). I had to turn my back and fake a coughing fit as to not reveal myself as the immature goofball that I really am. After all, I don't know these ladies very well yet.

I'm pretty sure that no one was fooled.

Blogger Blowouts and Bargain Brags.

Nice Alliteration, huh?

Alright, so most of my day was wasted by me playing around with my blogger template. I know, a complete waste of time as I had a perfectly fine template, but I'm tired of it. Last night I fought with a 3 column template, unsuccessfully. This morning I changed up my color scheme to my favorites (pink and brown). This afternoon I got the 3 column thing to work with a hack template, fixed all my links, then tried to change my color scheme. Nope, can't do it. But I'm learning...it'll get there. And I have a really great idea to give my page some individuality, but I need Chris to help me out a little on that one. He knows my MacBook better than I do.

I do have to share a Celia picture and story. While making beds this morning I discovered that sometime she has peed in her bed. Ew. How this escaped my notice yesterday or whatever day she did it I don't know. So we took the sheets of and threw those in the wash. But her mattress was a little.....unpleasant smelling. So I threw a layer of baking soda on it, got some fresh air circulating in there (yes, baking soda really does work that well. And if it doesn't, spritz the mattress with vinegar. I know, you're thinking vinegar is stinky stuff...but when it dries, the stink goes away and it takes all other stink with it.) We got dressed, went outside to play.

A little later we come in for lunch. She finishes, says "I'm done" and leaves the kitchen. I was still eating, so I sat there reading a magazine and eating my sandwich when I realised it was really quiet.

Quiet is not good.

So I call her name. No answer.

I walk around the downstairs, looking in all her favorite spots. Nope.

I start to get hysterical and check to be sure the doors are locked (I know she would run if she could get out. I never even had to shut a door when Jordan was a toddler, but this one is a runner. I live in fear of forgetting to lock a door and having her run away). I'm running around, screaming her name.

I know she didn't go upstairs, I didn't hear her to that. But as a last ditch before I call the police effort I run up there.

Sure enough, that little booger had tiptoed up the steps. She knew I would stop her, so she got sneaky and quiet. I found her just rolling in baking soda on her mattress, patting it on her face like powder, using her little butt (our house has apparently become a clothing optional resort for toddlers) as a powder puff to dust everything with baking soda.




I decided to her the shopping done tonight while I could leave the kids with Chris. To my delight I found that I felt fine at Target and Giant Eagle. No identity crisis there. I guess I'm just not a Walmart shopper.

Anyway, I feel like I did great, so I'm going to brag on my shopping a bit. First, for $50 at Target I got:

32 Rolls of paper towels ( I know this seems a little excessive, but you had to get this many to get the deal...they ended up being .40 a roll. I may never need to buy them again)

10 tin plant labels (just because they were cute)

3 Ribbon headbands (same darn reason)

2 Polos for Jordan

3 Doorknob covers (the socks and rubber bands looked a little ghetto, but I'm not sure these things will keep the little escapee in)

1 Polo for Chris

1 Pair of Jeans for Chris (they actually fit him, yay!)

A buttload of Star Wars stuff for my son's upcoming big birthday party...he's hitting double digits this year!

Okay, so not too bad a Target. Now on to Giant Eagle. Here's where it gets good. For my $50 there I got:

10 boxes Eggo waffles

5 Boxes Cap'n Crunch (How retro is that! I used to love that stuff)

10 bottles of relish

3 gallons milk

3 loaves of bread and a bunch of hot dog buns

2 things squeezable jelly

A monster bottle of ketchup,

Some more baking soda!

A bunch of really yummy looking produce, I even sprung for the good lettuce this time!

A ton of other stuff to piddly to list. I just love the totals on the bottom of my receipt..

Total Due: $49.53
Total Saved: $43.51

The bargain high I get....priceless.

Sorry if these past few posts have become a little too blahg and boring for some of you. Thanks to my favorite verbotomist (okay, so I only know one, but still favorite!) for giving me a new label to obsess over. Keep in mind, I'm writing this more for me than for you!

Who Am I?

I swear I don't even know anymore.

A woman on the verge of some kind of breakdown, that's for sure.

Why? I have no freaking clue.

I just seem to have lost all identity of self. And where so I have this epiphany? In the middle of freaking Walmart!

You'd think I would be happy. Out of the house, without the kids, on some invented just for the purpose of taking a shower and leaving the house errand.

But no, instead I feel like some out of place alien being out in public without at least one child to attend to. See, when I have my kids out in public, I'm their mom. MOM....the one in charge. The one in control. She's handling everything, keeping everyone happy and behaving.

Without them I'm just some lady walking around Walmart telling herself to act normal.

In Walmart. Have you checked out the other people who are shopping in Walmart after 9 at night? I'm telling my self to act normal so THESE people won't think I'm weird? I don't even know these people....they certainly don't know me and I'm sure that they could care less that my makeup doesn't look good or my clothes are too snug because I'm getting chubby or that in my own head I'm chanting "BE NORMAL" so I don't break down and cry in the middle of Walmart for my lack of purpose in life.

When the heck did this happen?

Was is because I quit teaching?

I don't think so. I mean, I don't miss it. I'm not really in a hurry to go back. I just had a conversation with a friend today about how I'm glad I'm not teaching middle school anymore because so many parents are screwing up their kids and there's not a lot a public educator can do about it. So I'm very glad not to have that stress in my life right now. Plus I know I could not bear to leave my sweet baby girl to go back to work....and I know I want to be home every day to greet my exuberant boy as he rushes in the door from school.

Was it because we left the old church and started looking for something new?

I don't think that's it either. I mean, I was already on the fast road to a breakdown there anyway....just for different reasons. I didn't agree with a lot of the theology and we were just overwhelmed with responsibility, with no support to back us up. I'm kind of sad because it has effected my relationship with my best friend a little. We still talk every day....but I guess I didn't realize that both of us have been so busy in the past 9 months with home and church that the only times we've spent together WAS at church. And I miss spending that time with her. And since I'm not Miss. Popularity I don't really have any other friends....so I've been spending a lot of time just home alone with the kids. I'm becoming a regular agoraphobic hermit.

So that's part of it. I just don't have a lot of other adult interaction. I'm forgetting how to act among grown ups. And I feel completely out of place with them, like I just don't belong.

On the bright side, Hubby has informed me that sometime in June he will be able to take a day off work (to make up for his weeks of travel and inaccessibility) and spend it with me. Hopefully I can stave of complete meltdown until then.

All I ask is that if you're going to take odds on when and where I'll lose it, please send me a cut of your profits to pay the medical bills.

"Honey, Don't Stand Still Too Long...

....or your butt crack will get stuck shut."

Huh? This is what my husband says to me as I'm putting up tile in the bathroom (that's right, after 4 months we're FINALLY ready to tile the shower).

"Don't stand still too long or your butt crack will get stuck shut"

"What the heck are you talking about?" What the heck IS he talking about? This is just another example of my, working hard, and him, staring at my butt.

"Umm, you've got some of that white goop (mastic) right...well...on your butt crack. I don't want that to freeze shut on you."

Thank hon. Thanks. We should probably let everyone know this is a hazard of laying tile....butt crack adhesion.

He makes it sound like I'm laying tile in the nude....let me assure you I'M NOT!

I did make a very bad choice and wore my new black yoga pants....boy I hope that stuff comes out!

I did have him take some pictures of my butt...but honestly, it looked a little too fluffy to post on the internet. So use your imagination. And make it look good for goodness sake!

Anyway, here are some harmless pictures of us working in the bathroom.

Here I am, squished into a little corner of our little tiny bathroom (5x8). Take note of how I level up that bottom row if tile. That's right, a couple shims, some craft sticks. It's a new technique. I'm thinking of patenting it.



I got the bottom row on and straight and much of it up. My knees were getting stiff from being folded for suck a long time....plus Chris was itching to do something other than hand me tile. So I gave him a turn.




He quickly decided that he was "no good at spreading the goop" (his words, not mine). So I put the mastic on the wall and he stuck the tile up there.

Just like Celia and her stickers.