Thursday, March 30, 2006
Being from Tomball, raised by a quasi-feminist mother (who only allowed me to NOT enter myself in the Miss Tomball pageant in High School if I said it was degrating to women, and not b/c I just knew I had like ZERO chance) and a Hope, AR native, led me in my younger years to never turn away from a biatch, and certainly never take anyone's shit lying down.
(Except for Lea Ann. She still scares me a little.)
Back to my story.
So normally I would totally go off on anyone who threw the 'tude in my face the way Ry does, but being that I've "matured", and the fact that I'm, you know, the mother, I can't so much do that any more. I mean, I could, but I just think that would be a little too ugly.
(Honestly? I'm a little afraid of her, too)
So how do I handle it when my kiddo comes into my room after being put to bed with no stories (disobeying at dinner) and no songs (hitting her brother), and sweetly asks me if I could turn up the volume on my tv, because she can't hear what the people are saying?
The balls on this kid must be massive (as well as invisible), b/c there was no way in hell I would ever have disobeyed as much, or thrown quite as much attitude at my parents as she does. I was nerd central, which is why up till now I've only been worried that she would suffer the disgraces of my youth. I guess I forgot that she is also a by-product of her father, which scares me even more b/c man, what a hellion that dude was.
I'm a little apt to blame it on some of the older kiddos she's been hanging with lately (Those wicked 7 year olds!!!), mostly because every other word out of her mouth is "Duh!", and I swear to God if she rolls her eyes at me one more time, I'm likely to scratch them out. In all fairness, I have warned her, so don't think I'm all that bad, K?
On second thought, think whatever the hell you want. I'm spent.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
This fascination with myself, my future, my lucky numbers, etc. led me to this this morning.
Check it out, won't you? Consider it a free present to me.
Monday, March 27, 2006
The Slip-n-Slide company needs to manufacture whatever it is that makes babies so freakin' slippery. They'd make millions.
He survived 4 near-death drowning incidents, much to his excitement and my terror. Think , "Jaxson, World's Fastest Crawling Baby" -- in the water.
The best one was when he discovered the wonder of his "package" as a floatation device. After swatting at his numerous water toys, he found his thingy, swatting and splashing at it with such enthusiasm he sent himself reeling backwards, hitting his head on the bottom of the tub, balls in hand, smiling proudly.
Color me impressed.
1. I am astounded that not a single one of you commented about the Boobie Post. I'm assuming you either,
a) didn't get the humor in Shawn's comment (which means you know nothing about the make-up of my physical anatomy)
b) were a little scared at the image of the 4 of us snuggling in bed bare-chested (which was NOT the case. I did not need to be bare-chested in order for Ry to determine the size of my jugs; see "a")
c) You don't share the same 7th-grade-boy mentality my husband and I do, in which case I feel very sorry for you. Boobie cracks & fart jokes ROCK!
Now back to our previously scheduled program.
So. Way back in the day, Ryan had some adorable idiosyncracies that she would perform, all of which kept the entire family in stitches. Following in the Great One's footsteps, Jax has developed some of his own.
For instance, he has just discovered the joy of "blubbering"(huh?) his lips with his fingers, and will do it in lieu of a toy, playmate, or food.
Speaking of food, he is sooo over baby food, and becomes severely insulted when we don't offer a sampling of our dinner. He still does the lets-yell-before-during-and-after-dinner thing, coupled with the whole slam-his-head-against-the-highchair dance, but now he's become acutely aware of where the spoon is at all times and is now adept at swiping both the spoon, food, and your hand spontaneously, leaving a mess all over himself, his chair, the floor, and, well, me. He also refuses to wear his bib, and don't even think about trying to force it on him, because you will spend the remainder of mealtime fighting him to keep it on, and trust me, this kid does.not.give.up. Ever.
He's so totally into racing you in his walker, and God help you if you are not wearing shoes, because he will mash your toes until you cry and scream, at which point he will just scream right back for getting in his way, you big stupid dummy.
He'll try to repeat most of what you say, succeeding thus far in saying "ry ry", "bye!", "tank too", "daddy", "mama", "elmo", "ball", and mostly, "pappy", delighting my grandfather to no end, mainly because he still hasn't said "big daddy".
While he is entirely enthralled with all things ball-related, his favorite activity has to be clapping. He claps when he's hungry. He claps when he's angry. He claps when he sees you, when he does something good,he claps pretty much for any reason at all.
He's a clap-whore, if you will.
The only thing bothering me? He has just recently begun putting his two pointer fingers together and holding them out like a gun, sending shock and worry straight through my veins as I scramble for every medical book I can find stating anything about the workings of the male brain, in an effort to ensure he never puts a cap in anyone's ass, mostly mine, because the temper on this kid, coupled with how precise his aim seems to be scares the shit out of me.
I am now frantically searching for all those "funny" pics I took of him in princess costumes and wigs, burning them quicker than you can say "funeral pyre".
Saturday, March 25, 2006
Ryan, after attempting to grab Daddy's nipple: Daddy, when will your boobies grow?
Mommy: *outburst of raucous laughter*
Ryan: My boobies are going to grow when I get bigger. Why are your boobies so little? Mommies boobies are much bigger than your's, Daddy.
Daddy: Well, that's not saying much.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
That said, we had a "pajamas and pancakes" party tonight -- breakfast for dinner (pancakes for them eggs for moi), on the floor in front of the fire place in pj's, with a game of Dora the Explorer Chutes and Ladders thrown in just for kicks. It would have been fun if I hadn't married and then given birth to 2 of the most competitive, SORE-LOSERS on the planet. It's chutes & ladders, Shawn. Chutes. And Ladders.
I understand Ryan's disappointment, but how does it look when her father pegs her mom in the back with a ball because he lost a game made for 3-5 year olds??? Score one for me on MOTY front, minus 2 for Shawn's FOTY.
Ryan Remark Of The Day:
Had a rough time with Ry today -- she left me 3 times in the 3 different stores, the last of which had the elderly female manager telling me, "you should watch her -- we've had perverts (and yes, she did whisper) in here before."
Mortified and all-around pissed-off, I let loose on Ryan in the car.
"When will you learn to listen and obey?" I asked through clenched teeth.
"I don't know," she said. "Maybe in like 2 weeks? You know, when I'm old. Like you."
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Last night, Shawn discovered Ryan scaling the new baby gate we put up in the kitchen, a feat I am rather impressed with and have thus allowed without remark. Shawn being Shawn (aka: the wise, cautious, though sometimes anal parent), was horrified at this quasi-SpiderWOMAN stunt, and immediately forbade her from further climbing. This bummed me out on a number of levels:
1. I really do think it's cool how quickly she scales that thing, a skill I am still trying to master.
2. Not allowing her to climb means I have to lift her in and out every time she wants in or out. For the Queen of Lazy, this is a super-sucky notion.
3. I had to concede and publicly admit blame in the matter. I hate it when that happens.
Since this no climbing rule has been enforced, Ry has been a TOTAL stickler about following the law of the land. She has yet to climb back over the damn gate, insisting I rush to lift her 38 pound bulk, along with the 15 animals/toys/books she constantly carries with her. *Visions of future bag lady dancing in my head*
However, the rule MOMMY set about not changing clothes in the middle of the day? Pshaw. She scoffs at the idea, and consequently I have 3 outfits of hers to wash per day, as opposed to the normal 2. When I catch her breaking my rules? She gets FURIOUS with me! I tried to walk into her room yesterday as she was in the middle of said crime, and she slammed the door shut, throwing her body against the door, screaming, "Don't come in here Mommy -- I mean it!"
She only let me in after I promised I wouldn't get mad about whatever it was she was hiding from me. Which meant I really couldn't get mad, since my only other real rule is "no lying", and even I can't actually break that one.
To her face, that is.
Monday, March 20, 2006
Saturday, March 18, 2006
If any of you live in or around the Central Texas area, if you have family or friends in the Central Texas area, if you can make a weekend trip to the Central Texas area, BE AT THIS SALE OCTOBER 6-8, 2006. Why such early warning? I've just finished working the sale (we still have our 1/2 off day tomorrow), and all I can think about is the next one.
This is the best thing I have seen in a long long time and I cannot get the word out fast enough.
The Mommy and Me Sale is a consignment sale currently held at the Dell Diamond in Round Rock. With well over 150 consignors submitting over 11,000 items, everyone is bound to find something they can use.
While the sale is mostly children's consignment, the variety of items for sale is massive: clothing ranging from preemies to pre-teens, maternity wear (and TONS of it), furniture, decor, dvds, cd's, videos, books, toys, bicycles, outdoor play equipment, bedding, safety items -- things you didn't even know existed!!! And every single item is inspected (I should know, after spending over 10 hours on my feet straining my eyes searching for even the teeniest stain or spot, rip or tear) for quality assurance by REAL MOMS, most of whom will likely be buying a large majority of the items they inspect!
I came home yesterday with over 100 items, from a Disney Princess scooter for Ry (natch) to a baby gate (hello, $5!!!), to a brand-new diaper bag, to oodles and oodles of clothes, shoes, nighties, you name it. All in all, I spent just over $200, and that's not even counting the consignment commission I will receive. My fave purchase? Oh, you know -- the 10 pairs of NEW Gymboree socks I scored for $1.00 -- TOTAL! I may never buy retail again.
I'm currently trying to figure out a way to convince Shawn to let me spend $75 on a beautiful Like-New Pottery Barn 8x10 rug that will be half off tomorrow(you know, to cover the "I-swear-it's-diaper-cream-and-not-poo stains on the carpet in the Big Room), as well as $30 on a quality Eddie Bauer DOUBLE STROLLER. Any words of advice would be appreciated.
Anyway, while it may be too late for some of you to make the 1/2-off sale tomorrow, you still have plenty of time to prepare for the Fall sale in October.
We only sell season-appropriate items (I say "we", because I feel like part of their family now), so if you think you might like to consign, you'll want to start putting aside all of your fall/winter clothing -- including outerwear and COSTUMES!!!! The best part? If you do consign, you get a chance to shop before the public, and we all know how much we like to feel "VIP" -- just admit it.
So do this NOW before you forget: click on the "Mommy And Me" link to the right, or enter www.mommyandmesale.com in your browser. Bookmark this page, and start sorting through your closet, because if you do choose to consign, you can start entering your inventory as early as August 1st. (I'm already planning a Girl's Weekend so all my mommy friends and I can help with the sale, make money, buy great stuff, and have social time outside of the computer, the library, or passing each other at the gym. I'm brimming with excitement, BRIMMING.)
What makes this already-awesome sale even awesom-er is that Teresa Sutton, the owner of the sale, donates a portion of all proceeds to local children's charities, and most of the items that don't sell are donated to local non-profits.
Finally, I'd also like to give a shout out to Teresa, Dawn, and Brandy for all of the incredible work they did to make this year's sale such a success -- you guys ROCK!!!! (What? A little ass-kissing never hurts...)
Check back later for pics of some of the stuff I bought, plus some of my one-of-a-kind tees that I plan to sell next time.
Okay. That's it. I've got to go clean now so that when the kiddos get back from the Lakehouse they can have something to mess up. Am I MOTY or what???
P.S. BIG PROPS to Menana, Big Daddy, and Ninny for helping me with the kids this weekend. I would never have been able to take part in this event, or make all the wonderful contacts I did if not for your help. (Now please mark your calenders for October. )
**UPDATE, 10:18pm** The biggest Thanks to Lea and her cutie-pie friend Robert, aka "Don't Call Me Samoan" for watching the kiddos on Thursday. So sorry about the pink eye, but I'm pretty sure you got it from the Ninster. Although if you insist on laying the guilt trip on me and mine, go right ahead. I'm quite used to it by now!!!
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Let me see... We have had tons of family in town this past week, which though fun, is always messy, and now we're left with a pile of crap masquerading as a house, so that's cool.
Ry's 17 birthday parties went off without a hitch, full of bouncing, sweets, presents, farm animals, more sweets, carnival rides, more presents, swanky dinners out, more presents and sweets, etc... You'd think she'd be satisfied, but now all she can ask is, "When will I be 5?"
Oy vey. In another example of how the world revolves around Ryan (or so she believes), when we pulled up to the Rodeo/Carnival on Tuesday for her birthday, she loudly demanded, "Who invited all these people to my party???" It was truly a shining moment for me.
Then yesterday came and we went to the doc for her 4yr checkup where she aced the vision test by showing the doc that if she walked up closer to the eye chart, she could "see every letter perfectly!" Duh.
Then came the shots and I've never felt so guilty in my life. I hadn't actually mentioned them to her beforehand, other than to excitedly inform her that she would be getting some really cool vaccines, so when the needle hit, she tried to kill me. And the nurse. And Jax. Just about anyone in the vicinity, actually.
While we were there, the doc noticed Jax's wretched cough (one which all 3 of us have been afflicted with this week), checked his ears and declared that he had a raging ear infection and some bronchial spasms, aka "wheezing". That's always fun to hear.
So when that hour and a half was over, we spent another 90 minutes going to the store, dropping/picking up prescriptions, yelling at each other, etc...
Made it into the house at 6:25pm, just 2 minutes before Shawn barely made his curfew (I had a Habitat Workshop to be at at 6:45), we ran past each other, blowing kisses, questions, and instructions, and then I was off to, you know, help people and stuff.
I was so thrilled that he didn't complain once, and it would have been a splendid evening had I not had a pile of clothing to hang and tag for this weekend's charity consignment sale. Luckily, we had yet to put up the sleep-away couch from our house guests, so he was able to catch some zzz's while I worked upstairs.
Okay, I'm feeling stress just writing about all the shit that went on yesterday. Not to induce pity, because I am sooo above sneaky tactics such as those*ahem*, but I am so tense that I actually had my jaws clinched ala Steel Vice last night, and now all my teeth and every bone in my facial region is aching. ACHING!!!!!! (cue violins)
So now I'm frantically cleaning (umm, I mean, I'm going to start right now) so that Lea Ann, who is in town until tonight, and her friends can come and babysit my kids while I volunteer at the consignment sale in an effort to get more $$ back from my sales as well as first pick at the best stuff. It's not selfishness, it's just plain smart. Plus, Lea Ann gets a huge dose of baby love before she has to leave us again for who-knows-how-long, so I'm actually doing her a huge favor. At least, that's what I'll be telling her as I race out the door.
So there ya go, that's it in a nutshell; you may/may not hear back from me in the next few days, because along with all the crap I mentioned above, I also temporarily (I hope) lost my mind and volunteered to organize the groundbreaking on our next Habitat house, and need to have oh, you know, like 50 invites in the mail by tomorrow. Those invites that I've yet to be able to type up and print. hahahahahahahahahhaahahahahahaaaaaaaa *sound of my brains spilling out of my ears*
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Thursday, March 9, 2006
What the hell? How come there's all this hype about the Terrible Two's and Three's, but not a word about the Fucking Fours???
This kid needs to eat Midol for breakfast or something. Maybe I should sprinkle some of my Prozac in her chocolate milk, 'cause it sure ain't helping me now.
Remember a while back I talked about Ryan's teenage ways? They just keep getting worse. I'm beginning to think there actually is no end in sight. Shit, at the rate we're going we won't have a damn thing to worry about come age 13. We'll have this attitude-on-legs issue completely under control. That, or we'll just go into hiding.
The kid is seriously getting out of hand. Every day, it's a glare here, a snicker there. Every day she randomly yells that she hates me, then 5 seconds later is all over me, clinging as though I was, like, her Mom or something. Her mood swings definitely leave mine in the dust (no small feat if you know me at all).
Right now she is leaning on me, whining about wanting to eat when, I kid you not, 3 minutes ago she said she would rather watch her new video from the library than eat. 3 minutes from now? She'll insist she's not hungry. She's like an insane human yo-yo.
Speaking of the library, I'm pretty sure we'll never go back, and for once it has nothing to do with Evil Librarian Bitch. Ryan just will not sit still at storytime. Every other kid in the joint, bigger or smaller than her, becomes mesmerized the minute the storylady starts until the very last reel on the projector runs out. Every kid except for Ryan. She's up, she's down, she's on her knees, she's on my lap, she's on top of Jax, she's on top of some other kid. It has become so stressful and such a big issue that today I had to pull her out early because she was hiding behind the curtains and whining that she was hungry (she had just finished a box of juice, a banana, a bag of Cheez-its and some Barbie fruit chews). She hadn't paid attention to ANY of the books that were read, but you better believe the moment I pulled her out into the hall, that story room was the only place on the Earth she wanted to be.
She kicked, she screamed, she cried. She tried to drag me back and when that didn't work, she ran in front of the stroller and tried to stop me from moving forward. Doors were quietly shut all along the hallway as we dragged each other along.
I've got a huge consignment sale coming up next weekend, and have selected some never-used toys to add to the clothes I'm sending. She of course spots the Barney Music book and has not stopped playing the music. As I'm writing this, she is in her room crying because I just took the damn thing and threw it out the window. I'm serious. Go look in my backyard if you don't believe me.
I've been thinking that maybe she is just bored, so we put her in Kids Day Out thinking she would love it, right? Well, yeah, kinda. She likes the idea of going but when we get there, she clings onto my leg and we go through the whole drama of wah wah wah --my brain is so overloaded I cannot think straight. Seriously, you have caught me at a "moment", so just sit back and be grateful that today is not your turn.
I am so proud of my brilliant daughter, until she throws her brilliance back in my face which you bet your sweet ass she does on a daily basis. Just now? When I threw away the Barney Death Book? She just came back in and informed me in her never-ending snooty way that I'm "not very good at sharing." I'm gonna kill her.
She tells me she doesn't like my attitude when I'm getting on to her for something. She must have brass balls hidden under that Cinderella dress, 'cause I'm the scariest thing since IT when I get mad, and still she calls me out.
And how come everything out of her mouth (when not sassing me) is in whine-form? EVERYTHING. I'm hungry. I'm sleepy. I'm boring (she means bored, but whatever).
Nothing is ever ever ever never good enough for this child, and when she does pick a moment to be happy and fun, she either goes so far off the deep end we have to call in the Lifeguard (Time Out), or she wants to pretend we're all someone else, and yes, mommy, you have to pretend or I will throw a tantrum and make you wish you were dead.
I am so tired I wake up ever morning feeling as though I got drunk the night before when, in fact, I haven't had a drink in weeks (hmmm...). Half the tiem she wants to be uuber-independent, and the other half she refuses to do anything without my help. "Pick my dolly up off the floor? It's too hard. But you must not even attempt to help me brush my hair or teeth."
She begs and pleads and begs and pleads to play with a friend, and when she finally gets the chance, she wants nothing to do with them I think it's a parallel to loving the "chase", except in her case, it's loving the "driving Mommy insane". And she's getting really good at it.
And don't think she doesn't know what she's doing, either. The other day, in an effort to kill 2 birds blah blah blah, I put a Hershey's Dark Chocolate Kiss in her lunch box. Know what she said? "Look what you did Mom, this is gonna make me craaaazzzyy!"
Every day is opposite day in the land of the Fucking Fours, and if you want her to do something you should really tell her not to do it, and all will be copacetic. Look at me, I'm not even making sense. I have a meeting at 1 pm, a kitchen to clean, lunch to make, and I am blabbering to you people who will inevitably tell me to suck it up or "make lemonade".
As God as my witness, if any of you leave a smart-ass comment like that, I will hunt you down and make you babysit.
Tuesday, March 7, 2006
Right. So, here we have a piece of art work that Ry brought home from Sunday School last week. Cute, yes? Huh. Take a closer look...
A DOGGIE. Yep, that's my kid. Setting her aspirations just high enough to never be attainable.
And because there just aren't enough pics of kids with food on their faces, I give you Jax w/Noodles:
Here's Ry's attempt at guilting us into buying her a pony.
Don't let the sweetness fool you. He is a punk of the first order.
Wouldn't be a pic of Ry w/o something being spread wide open, though usually it's her mouth. She is SUCH the Little Lady.And finally, Ryan on her first day of preschool.
First day of preschool? In March? It's called PROCRASTINATION, peeps. It's how we roll.
Let the bile and vomitting commence.
Monday, March 6, 2006
30 years ago a young man stood waiting with love and hope in his heart (and probably a couple of shots of whiskey in his gut).
30 years ago he had no idea that all of his playboy ways would come back to haunt him in the form 3 crazy daughters.
30 years ago she had no idea that she would eventually give birth to the sisters she never had as a child.
30 years ago they did not know about the excruciating back surgeries, the 5 heart attacks, the cancer.
30 years ago they were unaware that the fruits of their labor would be washed away, only to leave their eyes open to the only riches they would truly ever need.
30 years ago she was unsure of whether or not this marriage thing would work.
30 years ago he was vulnerable and insecure, ready to "spilt the sheets" at the drop of a hat.
30 years ago the blueprint for a true, loving, open and honest marriage was developed; one that is used by at least one other marriage in hopes of finding the same lasting success.
30 years ago God was watching. God was listening. God stepped in and gave two lost souls the strength, love, support, and friendship they needed to become whole.
30 years ago my Mom and Dad were married.
30 years ago...damn, they're old!
Love you!!! ;)
Saturday, March 4, 2006
I took her to some of the neighborhood garage sales this morning (where she totally scored BIG TIME), and when explaining it to her Dad this evening, she declared, "Oh yes, Daddy! Today we saw lots of Garage Sailors." 'Cause Round Rock is this country's 4th biggest port, dontcha know.
Just wait. They'll get better.
Then, my Mom and Dad stopped by to visit on their way home from Port Arthur, bearing gifts for the kids from Pappy. Actually, it was just one gift, that Billy Big Mouth Bass thing that sings, to which Ryan responded: "Look! I have a Singing Salmon!" See, there are some MOTY points right there. The kid sees a fish and automatically thinks "salmon", because that's the only kind I feed her. I knew I was good for something.
As we were having story time in Jax's room tonight, Ryan was playing Story Lady and we were the audience. Jaxson, being 10 months old and all, was crawling all over the place, behind Ryan, under the crib, etc. At one point she put down the book she was "reading", asked where this baby's father was, then pointed out to us that "babies are not accomplished to go behind the story lady." Obviously she meant "allowed", but lets just give it up for the 4 year old who thought to try to use the word "accomplished" in a sentence, shall we?
That's it. That's all I got. Come back tomorrow, my funny pill may have taken effect by then (but I wouldn't count on it).
**UPDATE** 2 seconds after I posted the above, I went to check on Ry in the bathtub. She had the curtain oulled closed, and when I opened it she freaked.
"Mommy! People are not supposed to look at you when you are in the bathtub!"
"I'm not people, Ryan. I'm Mommy."
"Mommies are grown-ups and grown-ups are polite, so they don't look at people while they are in the bath because that is rude. It's very rude." All of this said while she held her hands over her Va-jay-jay (thank God for G.A.), covering who-knows-what, eyes wide as saucers.
I am in LOVE with this child.
Friday, March 3, 2006
They were "playing" today, facing each other and screaming in turn, to be exact, and each time they let loose, there went the rats overhead, all 200 pounds of them, scurrying(as much as 200 lb rats are capable of scurrying) across our quasi-attic, leaving bits of ceiling plaster here and there.
I'm honestly not sure what bothers me more -- the 200 pound rats or the fact that my children are capable of scaring them.
Thursday, March 2, 2006
So anyway, Shawn won't let me take her downtown to feed the homeless (yet), so I was happy to let her tag along. Turns out she was very much needed. They changed our meeting room at the last minute and needed us to stand by the entrance in order to direct people to the new room, which also involved taking the elevator.
Enter Ryan. Nothing like a loud, chocolatey-faced little blonde girl welcoming you into "God' s Elevator" to help take the need for housing off your mind.
Our little social worker, helping the world one elevator ride at a time.
Speaking of social workers, I've recently decided to start working on my masters in Social Work so that I can do some good in the work force when the kids become school age and I am no longer needed by anyone. (cause that's what happens, right? I'm right, right? hello?)
Shawn is always nagging me about going back to work once they get older, but I'm burnt out on teaching (those 3 years were, like, bitchin' and all), and would really like to get paid to help people, so I thought, "What a great chance I've been given! Shawn will be so excited that I've found my calling and will finally be able to contribute to the family!" Seriously, I was on my way to calling Oprah and letting her know all about my "Ah-Ha" moment.
Want to hear his response to my super-charged, you- should- be- able- to- tell- how- excited- I- am- about- this- by- the- way- I'm- shaking, sweating, panting, and waking- you- at- 2- am- to- talk- about- it-announcement???
"Really? Social work? I was thinking you could do something like real estate or, you know, like something at a golf course."
Of course he was.