Ryan Elizabeth had a farm...

Just now, out of the blue, Ryan started singing:

"Mommy is a cow!Mommy is a cow! Mommy is a cow cow cow!!!"

Earlier? Earlier she told me, "You look like a pig in that pink shirt mom."

Oink oink, moo moo.

It doesn't bother me that much that she's making those comments -- I know she doesn't understand the negative connotation we adults assosicate with them. What bothers me is the hysterical laughing emitting from my husband's mouth.

He won't be getting any bacon anytime soon.

So NOT wanted I wanted to pass on

You guys should have seen brother man at Toys R Us today. He was kickin' it in the playscape, when he must suddenly have caught a whiff of THE SMOKIN' HOT 6 yr old next to him, because he totally mauled her, clinging to her back, then as she turned around, her stomach, then as she shook a litte, her butt, then as she began to do the doggy-leg-shake, he was barely grasping on to the bottom of her skirt with his grubby little paws. Even as she was trying to clamor away, he was glued to her, and likely would still be had I not come to her rescue.

This is not at all what I expected. His father is the cool, collected, non-committal one. I am the clingy, please-don't-ever-leave-me-or-I-will-die freak of the family. I really had him going in Shawn's direction, but now I'm just hoping that his cuteness will be enough of a magnet that he never has to unleash the co-dependent streak I so lovingly passed down.

As for Ryan? Puh-lease. Boys are, like, so gross, man. Except for Harry Potter, who we totally love but also scares us a little, but not enough to make us run and hide; actually, he's just scary enough to keep us coming back for more (you know the type). So anyway, she can take 'em or leave 'em, and let's all pray she stays that way FOREVER, 'k?

The OTHER Lost Boy

I had to put Jax into a wrestling hold this morning to get his shitty diaper changed (note to self: no more red grapes for Jax). All I'm thinking is, "Really, God? 7:30 am and already you've got me pinning down my son in order to wipe poo out of his crack? REALLY??"

I'm telling you -- if that kid wakes up all bad-mood-dude, you better grab some Holy Water, a wooden stake and a string of garlic, because that's about what it will take to get the evil spirit possessing him to get the fuck out. You have no idea how many times I thought about running to get the video camera so I could document his tantrums for medical purposes.

I'm seriously serious, people. I will do it. And then I will post it. And then, then you nay-sayers who think I'm over-reacting will have to eat your words and come babysit. Mwahahahaha!!

I knew I should have gone to McDonalds

On the way to pick up Ryan from preschool this afternoon, I passed a beggar on the street holding up a sign reading "NEED FOOD". I am nothing if not a liberal-hearted sucker, and seeing as how he was huddled over and crouched on the ground, I succumbed to my deepest yearnings and pulled into the nearest Wendy's to buy him a meal.

I went on to pick up Ryan first, and as I buckled her into the car, I explained that we were going to make a stop on the way home to give a hungry guy some food. I don' think she quite grasped the situation until we actually stopped and handed the guy his food, to which he glumly muttered his thanks and shuffled away.

As we were pulling away, she meekly whispered, "That was nice, Mommy." My heart soared as I perhaps caught the first glimpse of the spark iginiting in my little social worker's heart, and I seized the opportunity to (say it with me now ) "teach a lesson".

"You know, Ry, Jesus tells us that we should treat everyone as if they were Jesus himself, especially the poor and hungry who have nothing. He wants us to help them the way we would help Him."

"You mean that guy was JESUS?!?"

"No, baby. I just mean we should do for everyone what we would do for Jesus."

"Oh, okay."

I was giving her some time to let it sink in as I made a U-Turn on the highway heading for home.

We looked over at our new friend as we passed by, leaving Ryan wondering aloud, "Why is that poor Jesus-man throwing our food into the woods??"

For once, I was without words.

You're never gonna get it if you don't ASK

While perusing one of the many many gift stores at the reosrt, we asked Ryan what she might like to take home with her from Disneyland.

"Well, I really just want to have something like you guys. You know, like an iPod or something."

This? This she gets from her aunt. I won't say which one, but she lives in Arizona and her name begins with an L.

What I learned at Disneyland

At Disneyland, I learned that even I, cynical Mommy, will weep when the right music is played while watching fabulous fireworks. I learned that late September, mid-week is the best time to go, because once Saturday hits, you're really just walking and waiting, walking and waiting.



I learned that just because your 4 yr old can't get enough of Space Mountain, does not mean she will enjoy the Tower of Terror. (I know she looks scared at S.M., but if you could only see the original shot if T.T., you would see how completely alarmed she is to be falling 200 feet. Unfortunately, I did not want to spend $30 on the photo, so you'l just have to take my word for it.)




I learned that you can never ever ever bring enough money to Disneyland. Ever. Ever.









I learned that putting on a dress and having someone fix your hair











will automatically turn anyone into a super model.












At Disneyland I also learned that unless there is a Disney celebrity in the frame, your kid will not want to take a picture.













I learned my favorite thing about the Disney Princesses is how much attention they give to each child -- every.single.one.












I learned that if you ask even one non-character-playing Disney employee for their autograph and picture, the look on their face will be totally worth all the characters you didn't get to meet. (Thanks, Mario!!)


I learned that you should definitely spend the money for the Goofy Breakfast -- awesome buffet, tons of characters, totally worth it! Just watch out -- Goofy tends to smother.


















And finally, I learned that a true Princess will act like a Princess anywhere she goes -- even in Minnie Mouse's house.







Click here to see the rest of the pics...

"Hard Mass In Butt Cheek"

This was the search phrase that led some poor soul to our happy little blog.

Well, then.

Hope they found what they were looking for.

P.S. We're back from Cali, Disney rocked, pics soon to come!!!

What's red and swollen and stinks to high Heaven??

Jax woke up today with his right eye swollen completely shut. Funniest damn thing you ever did see. I think he just had a bug bite there that got swollen -- there's no puss or red on his eyeball, so I dosed him with Benadryl and laid him down for what is turning out to be quite a long siesta.

Also? He told me and signed to me that he did "poop", and he had!! I know I sound completely lameoid getting excited about all of this, but he's only 17 mos, and I figure I might as well relish in his academic successes before sports takes over and his brain looks like his face did this morning.

Miss Marks-a-lot

How do we get our 4 yr old to STOP DRAWING ON HERSELF???? I remember my Dad whipping us with his belt and sending us to our rooms for just that crime, but since I don't have the stomach for THE BELT, and since her bedroom is a veritable playground, both of those options are out.

We haven't really stressed out over this issue until recently, when we discovered she's been drawing on the kids at school, prompting them to color her hair pink. They thought it was all shits and giggles, but judging by their parents' faces as they walked their graffitied kiddos out of the classroom, I'm thinking the epidemic is becoming more shit, less giggle.

Moment of Zen

My morning began by chasing Jaxson away from a pile of dog poop, only after he'd smeared it all over his hands, legs and sippy cup.

So, basically, the day had nowhere to go but up.

You Heard It Here First (unless I'm wrong, then just forget I said anything)

I'm pretty sure Eva Longoria and Tony Parker just got married tonight. I'm at the lake with Lea, Jen, Mom and the kids, and:

A) We heard that the wedding was taking place here this weekend through various sources,

B) We just witnessed an embarrassing display of otherwise un-called-for fireworks,

C) Following said fireworks, Ryan, Lea, Jen and I jumped in the car and went stalkerazzie on the scene, casing the local hotel, where we saw wedding decor, various limos, and quite a few fancy-pants jets at the airport -- we are nothing if not thorough.

And yes, we are now officially declaring ourselves LOSERS.

Congrats, you crazy kids!!!

**update** It's Sunday night and we've just come in from dinner at the Yacht Club (lovey) where we were informed that the firewirks were for a wedding, and as a matter of fact, they were illegal Mexican fireworks, wreaking havoc on nearby outdoor dining patrons, some of whom were struck by "shrapnel" -- their word, not mine -- and even igniting a small fire on top of the tiki hut/bar.

Damn celebrities.

Little Things

While most people would climb out onto a ledge if they walked into their kitchen, filthy from the previous evening, afternoon, morning, etc... (at least, most moms cuurently subscribing to the "happy pill" way of life), I held fast to my senses, anchored to the ground (and away from the window) by Ryan's comment on said mess this morning:

"Would you look at this mess?? Pizza boxes and coke still out! Holy Moly! I've never seen it look THIS bad!!"

See? Even she's aware that this messy kitchen is a bad thing -- which means it's not always this messy, which means somewhere, somehow, I am doing something right.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to shoo the ants away from my lunch.

Are You Ready For Some Football??

Pulling, pushing, ball-hog antics...these are the reports I've received in the past week about Jax's behavior.

Squealing, smiling, hi-fives...our reaction to the news, leaving the nursery workers befuddled and scratching their heads.

"Why should they be so pleased", they wonder.

NFL, baby. NFL.

The Attack of THE AUNT

Lea Ann is in town, and if there's anyone snarkier than me, it'd be her. Need proof?

Ryan just came back from a 2 1/2 day journey with my mom, ninny and lea, and so far, I've been told horror stories of how Ry almost ate a booger (I shudder) and when chastised and warned about being known as the "booger eater", she replied, "Whatever, Mommy-Boooger- Eater!!" From which both my sisters concluded that I must have taught her this nasty little habit. I did not., though I do suspect her negative alliteration of moi must have been influenced by the Middle Child.

Then at lunch today, I was with Ry on a potty break when she stepped on my hurt toe, causing me to cry in pain, "Aarghh! Ryan! You stepped on my hurt toe!!" Her Lea Ann-esque reply?

"Waah, waah! You stepped on my huwt wittle toe! waah!" WTF?????

Last, but not least, while eating, my mom told me a little ditty about how the night before Ryan asked Lea Ann if she could sleep with her, prompting a short and succinct "NO" from Lea Ann. Having obviously spent too much time with Lea Ann already, Ryan retorted, "I'll give you fifty sih-ihntssss".

Which, knowing Lea Ann, bought her a one-way ticket into bed, but only after she paid up first.

Wallace Y Grommitt: El Maldicion de la Were-Conejo

Oh Joy! The ever elusive (quickly becoming so, at least) Family Night in the York house: handmade pizza, ice cream sundaes, and a movie to boot!

Just when you think things couldn't get any more 21st Century Rockwell, you start the movie you recorded on DVR and realize you saved the Spanish-language version.

P.S. Check out The Mommy Blog -- Mindy just published her book!!!

I Stand Corrected

Why do I do this to myself? Why, oh why do I insist on tempting that bitch in a prom dress known as FATE?

In Amy Speak, this means my day was shitty. And most likely it was because I was so prideful as to declare myself capable of juggling naked in a snowstorm. Sorry, I'm all about the metaphors today.

The morning was easy breezy; dropped Ry off at school, grinned from ear to ear when I threw her the deuce and she flashed her hook 'em horns at me. Bomb. Diggedy.

Jax and I got home, and I went to town making some banana bread for Ry's after-school snack while waiting for kiddie models to show up. Shawn called to check in, Jax "answered", and when I went to grab it from him, he rebelled by grabbing the cord of the electric mixer, dumping the butter-eggs-sugar mixture all over himself and the floor. As I rushed to grab him the first of many many models showed up at the door. Of course they did.

So I let them in, pointing to the pile of clothes as I ran Jax up to the bath, trying to have a discussion as I stripped his egg-whites soaked clothing off of him, ripping his diaper off without even thinking, flinging the giant load of crap he'd been smuggling straight into the bathtub. The same bathtub, might I add, that i had intended on using to wash the salmonella or ecoli or vernicious knid or whatever off of his writhing little body. So that was fun.

Finally (finally!) we finish, get the models fitted, when along comes another batch, and before I know it, it's time to pick up Ry.

That goes well, actually, that went really well. Her teacher said she was such a loving child, quite the social butterfly, and the first (and only) one in her class to comfort the kid-that-won't-stop-crying-after-Mommy-leaves. Read: your kid won't stop hugging me, she talks non-stop, and takes some sort of sick interest in kids who cry. No, really. I was proud. I was. Cloud 9, baby.

As we made our way to her first dance class, she was nervous about meeting the other girls in class, to which I over-zealously defied her to be wary, reminding her about all the friends she had made in just 2 days at a new school, yada yada yada. Unfortunately, the girls in the class were not as glowing as my angel, they teased her, she glared, and that was that. I've since been assuring her that all 5 girls were having a bad day all on the same day and they would probably be very nice next week. This is not false-hope I am instilling: they teased her about wearing a black leotard, no tights, no ballet shoes. The girl will be Swan Lake in a Box when I get done with her this weekend. I'm an awful unprepared mother and I should be flogged. But not until I finidh telling you about the rest of my day.

After dance we hightailed it over to the Y so Mommy could unwind with Yoga. Yep. Nothing like unwinding by being forced to bend over and stare at my dead toenail for an hour, as all I had on hand was a Barbie band-aid not big enough to cover my left nipple, let alone my big ole yellowing dead nail bed.

Did I mention I forgot my prozac and am now on my second glass of wine?

Hair today, Gone Tomorrow

For many years now, I've successfullyblocked out bits and pieces of my past, mainly because I was just the world's biggest dork, but also because, well, some of it still smarts a bit.

Like the memory that came rushing to me today of when I was younger and used to go around pulling out wads of my own hair just because I could, and you know, I loved grossing people out. It never hurt, which was the basis by which I actually got people to sit and watch me do it, and let's face it, I'm a fame whore, and if that's where the fame was, that's where I was gonna be.

What brought this wretched, wretched memory rushing back? Oh you know, just the massive chunk, wad, clump of hair Jax pulled from Ry's head earlier. I tried to take a pic (is that gross?) but my camera quit and I've 765 other things going on right now, so you'll just have to visualize, people.

By the way, she says it did hurt, to which I quietly rolled my eyes and muttered, "sissy".

Also? Ry started pre-school yesterday, ahd her first Spanish class, her first dance class starts today, the fashion show for MOmmy and Me thatI'm in charge of is tomorrow and so far NO MODELS have come by for fittings.

Such is my life, but you watch -- I will pull it all off, and without the slightest hint of insanity. Well, there may be a tad bit 'o the crazy, but I seriously doubt heavy meds will be required.

September Sweeps

In case it has gone unoticed, in less than a week our little blog baby will be one year old. 9/9, to be exact. And to commemorate this blessed little event, I'd like to try to reach 9000 hits by 9/9. So, recruit your friends, family, the guy at the bus stop, whoever, just get them here so we can hit our milestone in style!

And, if you are the 9000th hit, you'll receive a free tee from chunkyrhino!! Just leave a comment letting me know who you are and where I can send the goods.

What are you waiting for? Go, go, go!!