chunkyrhino

Breaking Spring

2010-03-10T22:48:00.000-06:00

**Wrote this post a year ago and never actually posted it, but it seems fitting even a year later as I prepare for another Spring Break-ing.**

Good Lord, someone grab me a valium and a case of beer -- Spring Break is FINALLY over!! I'm sure I'm not the only mom who is grateful for the start of school, but I may be the only one to admit it so vehemently. (Cue my version of an Irish Jig)

It's not that I don't enjoy having all this never-ending free time with my kiddos, it's not even that I'm jealous of all those other moms whose husbands can take off the week to spend on vacay, it's more that a vacation for the kids actually does mean more work for me, and for a lady who loves the lazy, this does not sit well.

If I were just dealing with Ryan, I'd be begging for an extra week off -- when it's just us, it's a swirl of rainbows and laughter and Taylor Swift songs bellowed at the top of our lungs. But God Bless him, when you enter Jax into the equation, the world rotates 180 degrees, toilets start flowing backwards, and we all start talking like that little dude from Twin Peaks.

You can't break routine with Jax. That is, not unless you want to deal in screaming banshee for a week, and although at first that may sound totally rockin', when you're 3 hours into a 4 hr screaming match with a 3 year old, it's starts to feel just a bit tedious. I remember before I had kids how I would pray that if God felt I was able, that I would gladly mother a special needs child. Little did I know how many different versions of "special needs" there are. What makes it worse is that he seems so normal. Until you feed him sugar, skip his nap, and tell him he can't use the puppy as a soccer ball -- and then it's all projectile vomiting and head spinning.

Someone call the priest, 'cause either the demon goes, or I'll be needing my last Rites...

Inspiration

2009-03-12T14:27:00.003-05:00

Just as I'm musing over no longer feeling the motivation to write, Jax up and gets himself sent to the Principal's office at school today. Well, The YMCA's Mother's Day Out version of the Principal's office, which technically is the office of the lady in charge of child services at the Y, but you get the point.

His teacher is a lovely lady who taught Ryan in the program when she was 3, and lucky for us, she has a son a few years older than Ryan who was exactly like Jax at his age. She's always saying how happy she is to have the opportunity to teach him, and goes out of her way to paint any "incidents" with Jax in the most rose-colored of ways.

Today, for instance, all she said at pick-up was, "We had to visit Miss Toni's office today, but afterwards he did much better. His energy level was just a little higher than normal today."

Which is like saying Rush Limbaugh is just a little pompous. That's all. Just a smidge.

Once in the hallway, I question Jax as nonchalantly as possible, asking him if he got to go see Miss Toni today, and what, per chance, did they talk about? "Yeah," he responded. "I don't know."

"Okay, well can you tell me why you got to go to her office?"

"'Cause I was like jumping and jumping and jumping and then I jumped on the big blue thing and was like ahahahahahaha." Oh. Okay. I can only assume that by the "big blue thing" he meant the big blue tube-slide, and that by going ahahahaha, he meant jumping/scooting all the way down on top of it. Or something.

My questions were quickly dismissed as we were walking by the elderly grandmother of one of his classmates, and he said, "WHOA! She's OLD!"

"Shhh," I scolded, bending down to his eye level. "It's not nice to talk about people like that, Jax."

"Okay," he reluctantly grumbled. Then, in the time it took me to straighten myself up, he'd run over to her, grabbed her dress and yelled, "HEY! YOU'RE OLD!"

And I'm back to blogging. Good time, good times.

Another one from Jax

2009-03-12T07:22:00.002-05:00

I know these QOTD's are trite, but I've not been too inspired lately. Unless you want to hear me rattle on about screaming tantrums, hitting, kicking walls and slamming doors. Personally, living through it every day is enough for me. No need to hash out the details. So, in lieu of an actual post, and because I'm digging deep to find humorous bits about this boy, here are his latest quotes:

"Mommy, I'm the FART MASTER!!"

"Hey Mom, I'm going to find the poop with my binoculars."

"How come when I poop it makes my butt hot?"

I'm seeing a theme here...smelling it, too.

QOTD

2009-03-09T09:04:00.001-05:00

Jaxson, looking at my many many freckles: "Mom, why you got so many polka dots?"

"Ohhh, Baxter. You are my little gentleman..."

2009-02-22T09:56:00.005-06:00

"...I'll take you to foggy London town, because you are my little gentleman."

(Ten points if you can name that movie!)

Just Another Day At The Office

2009-02-20T12:28:00.002-06:00

After my workout this morning, I picked Jax up at the Kid's Gym, and as we were putting on his shoes, I asked him how it was.

"Great! Greta was there and I played with her. And I took her jacket and ran and she didn't win, I won."

"I'm glad you got to play with Greta, but maybe no more taking her stuff, okay?"

"Okay....and I played with these guys," (holding up five fingers, then counting them off one by one) "this guy, and him and him, and him, and me!" Excitement oozes.

Right about then, one of the boys comes out of the Kid's Gym to put on his shoes, and as he does, Jax says, "Hey, there's one of those guys!"

"Hey, dude," He calls nonchalantlyin a voice 2 octaves lower than the one he was just using.

The little boy doesn't hear him, but a second later looks up, sees Jax and says , "Hey!"

"Hey," he responds, again, in the casual, non-committal way his dad answers just about all of my questions.

He finishes putting on his shoes, starts to walk away, and throws over his shoulder a "later, bro" as he goes.

And I stand and stare, wondering who exchanged my chatty little 4 yr old boy with this 12 year old pre-man.

Live from ESPN...

2009-02-16T10:21:00.004-06:00

NASCAR is definitely back in season. How am I sure of this fact? As I sit typing this in the living room, I can hear Jax in the next room performing his own one-on-one interviews:

(In loud Dad/Announcer voice) "So, Jimmy, what are you doing?"

(Apparently answering as Jimmie Johnson) "Well, I'm winning 'cause my car is big, my wheels are big, and I smell good, and I eat chicken after my race."

(again, in the Dad/Announcer voice) "So, Earn Earnhardt, what happened?"

(As Dale Jr, aka "Earn Earnhardt") "Well, I got in a crash. I went a little like this, and then a little like that and then CRASH! And Jimmie was doing this, and then woohoo! Jimmie wins!! I really crashed, I don't know what happened."

(announcer voice) "Start your engines, get set, go! Vroom, and Jimmie is in the lead, and OH NO, Earn Earnhardt is crashing, and now Jimmie is in the crash, and Jimmie wins!"

"What happened Jimmie, buddy?" Jimmie: "Well, I was in the crash"

And then the loop starts all over again... P.S. In Jax's head, Jimmie Johnson is GOD.

Apple. Tree.

2009-02-02T14:29:00.002-06:00

Today's been "one of those days" with Jaxson. He's ornery to a fault, stubborn beyond anything I've ever seen, and when he's forced to go against his will, extensive damage is done to his lungs, our ears, his fists, and any surface strong enough to withstand his blows.

Shawn was grumbling about him this morning, which only made me giggle, because it's days like this that he reminds me of his Daddy the most...

Helen Marie Duplantis, 1929-2009

2009-01-28T08:47:00.003-06:00

"The good French lady has left us..."

Mysterious Ways

2009-01-27T20:31:00.002-06:00

We've just finished dinner and have been talking to Ryan about excluding friends at school, being mean to someone just because they were mean to you first, and all that other glorious cattiness we encounter when girls are concerned. I can't tell you how much I look forward to these "talks".

It's possible I may have gone on a tad too long this time, muddling the point with examples and explanations, because after my "everyone-is-different-and-that's-okay-because-that's-how-God-wants-us-to-be-He-can-do-anything-He-wants-and-if-He-wanted-us-to-all-be-the-same-He-would-have" speech, she concurred with the following story:

"Yeah, Mom, because you know, He really can do anything He wants. Like today I was sad and not feeling that great, but I still tried to be nice and good, and so when I was watching Phineas and Ferb today, they usually go straight to the cartoon after the beginning song, but this time, God said, 'You know what? Ryan has been really good all day and I know she really has to go to the bathroom, so I'm gonna put a commercial on so she doesn't have to miss anything.' And He DID!!"

Clearly, my work here is done.

Happy Chinese New Year!!

2009-01-26T16:01:00.004-06:00

We just got back from watching the Chinese New Year parade at Ryan's school, a 5 minute long procession involving reams of butcher paper & a whole mess of First Graders banging drums and bumping into each other. Eat your heart out, Macy's.

This is Ryan's class dragon and...

this is Ryan as 1/15th of the dragon's tail! Woohoo!

Making Amends

2009-01-22T10:17:00.004-06:00

So I have this friend from Back Home, who as a girl was known to cause me to crap myself and crumple my self-esteem just with a glance. Supposedly, she never knew her looks could kill, but one can never be too sure.... Anyway, I love her very much, mostly because she's just as silly as me, but also for all those other hearts and rainbows and lovey reasons we all love our friends. So imagine my surprise when I heard she was (gasp!) embarrassed by a hilarious picture of her I posted on my Facebook page (cringing as I type that) from Shah's wedding last weekend. Of course, she says her protests and "HOOKER" catcalls were all in good fun, but she mixed guilt with a Catholic, and I will not let the matter die without full flogging of myself for all the internet to see. Not that anyone other than my mom and a couple of my friends who've seen me look much worse will read this, but I feel gratified anyway.

So Kellie, this one's for you:

You touched a nerve with the "hooker" bit, so I thought I'd show you just what a hooker I can (could, was) be. Pre-reduction, pre-highlights, this was me as "Angel" from Best Little Whorehouse, my first and only role on the Mainstage, but one nobody will ever let me forget. (Especially not Ninny, who calls me every.single.time. she hears "Hard Candy Christmas" on the radio.) Anyway, there you go, pretty embarrassing, no? Although you could say it doesn't really count, since I was dressed for a part, so here's another one...

I'm not sure what part of this picture is the most horrifying -- the face, the bangs, or the copper lipstick. Either way, it's bad. Bad bad bad. But again, perhaps you don't think this picture suffices, having been taken over 13 years ago, so I've got one more for ya, taken just last year:

Me as Shawn last Halloween. This is the best I've got (for now) but I'm sure if you wait a few days I'll find more. And yes, he will make me pay for posting this pic of him, so now I'm doubly punished.

There. Now. The slate is clean, I've absolved myself of my sins, and I'm off to devour my humiliation by way of a nice big box of Thin Mints.

Hustle and Flow, Baby

2009-01-21T16:33:00.003-06:00

It's Cookie Time at the York house, which basically just means a lot of anxiety for Mommy. Anxiety over how I am ever going to avoid eating these things by the ton, and anxiety over forcing Ryan to be an underage travelling salesman. I know the process builds character, initiative, goal-setting and all that gobbledy-gook, but none of those lofty ideals have any power to stop my hands from sweating and my stomach from flipping every time she approaches a new target. I hate selling. Hate hate hate. Hate. I take rejection to a completely ridiculous personal level, so watching my child get rejected is the type of vicarious living I don't strive for. Not that she's been rejected all that much (twice -- and I will remember who you are), or even that she'll have to do all that much selling -- she's got Shawn's delegating gene. (Big Daddy, Lea and Ninny are currently in a race to see which of them can sell the most cookies for Ry). Anyway, we all have to grow up sometime, so I guess age 31 is just as good an age as 6.

Not to mention, Jax is completely in her corner. Not only did he point out to me how big Ryan is ("She's so big Mommy. She can drink beer now, I think."), but he's also informed us exhaustively that if anyone tells her "No", he'll "punch them in the head, sucker". So, there you go.

HOPE Springs Eternal...

2009-01-20T10:23:00.004-06:00

In honor of the resurgence of HOPE, I've decided to come out from hiding. It's a new start; we've seen the dark before the dawn, and now's the time to sprout anew. Or something a little less corny, but no less meaningful...

I haven't written in a while because I didn't really have anything to say. Also, my time is no longer really mine, and any time I try to "steal" is taken from my kiddos, and that's not what I want for them. So I'll try to post as often as possible, when I have some "Mommy Time" on my hands, not just in an effort to vent or delight, but also because I didn't realize how many people have missed me. I may not have thousands of readers (Thank God!!), but the ones I have I cherish, and I want you to know that!

A quick update to satisfy curiosity:

Shawn is at a new restaurant now -- same company -- and he is flourishing. He works hard, but now his work is geared toward us -- toward canceling the non-essentials and making room for me and the kids. It's been fun to watch.

Jax has grown so much since this summer. We've been listening to him and validating him and through that effort have found ways to communicate and grow that we were beginning to doubt were possible. His tantrums have cooled, but his enthusiasm for life keeps growing -- and we are so grateful for that!

Ryan has been working hard at school and on the gymnastics team, and every day she gets stronger, smarter, and more beautiful. She's also got some brass balls on her and a mouth to go with 'em, but I'm not complaining -- hopefully she'll eventually use those traits to battle evil rather than Mommy.

I'm the same, but different -- trying to let go of my demons, and slowly but surely they are disappearing. I'm growing more thankful every day for the trials that come our way, because I know they are there to make us better, and that they will pass once they've accomplished their mission. I'm reading and cooking, playing and sleeping and trying to keep my butt from getting bigger.

That's pretty much it -- see why I haven't written lately?? I hope I haven't left some of you deflated, although I'm pretty sure I've managed to set the bar low enough in the past that maybe you'll just be mildly bummed.

Before I sign off, let me say: NO MORE LURKING!! Talk to me: comment, email or call. Part of the reason I haven't felt inspired to write is because I haven't felt a sense of community with all of you out there. I want to know how you're doing, what you're feeling, and if and how I can be of service to you. It's a new day, peeps, a Happy, Happy Day!!!

Sick. Again.

2008-11-17T08:36:00.004-06:00

It's been awhile since Ry was in daycare, or preschool for that matter. Years ago, I was used to warding off new germs she'd bring home, and although it sucked when she was a baby and always sick, I clung to the doctor's assurances that her being sick as a baby would mean she wouldn't be getting sick as much when she started school. True, true.

I forgot about Jax. No daycare, but he plays an awful lot in the nursery at church and at the gym, and he does have 2 days of pre-school a week. So I guess I shouldn't be surprised that now he and I are sick almost every other week.

He was suffering from a terrible cough and cold earlier last week, and sure enough, come Friday evening, I was suffering the same fate. There are just some things that washing hands can't prevent. Like when Jax sneezes in my mouth "accidentally", or the fact that when he's sick all he wants to do is climb up on me and have me smother him with kisses. Being the loving, nurturing soul that I am, I'm happy to oblige. Until I get sick, and then it's "Get away from me you little monster, mommy needs ALONE TIME!"

I missed going to Shah's wedding-shower-slumber-party, which I was so looking forward to. (Believe it or not, I don't get invited to that many slumber parties these days.)

Ryan was ecstatic, of course, seeing as how she'd begun laying on the guilt early Saturday morning, crying violently everytime I mentioned leaving, and apparently Shawn was thrilled to have me home as well: He took the kids out for dinner so I could sleep, slept with Jax so I could sleep, took them to church so I could sleep, and even made me some Chamomile tea.

All things considered, it was a decent weekend, but one that was completely governed by germs, cough and phlegm. Thank you sir, I've had enough.

I was prepared to regale you all with hilarious tidbits from my Girls' Weekend, but seeing as how I wasn't there, I'll just leave you with some funny, if old, video.

This is their version of a "Camp Rock" singalong from earlier this summer. If only Disney knew what they're missing...

Wurstfest 2008

2008-11-13T23:31:00.002-06:00

And this is just the g-rated fun we had. Too bad you'll never see the clip of me swinging my arms and yelling/singing, "I LOVE TO POLKA!" I'm saving that for a special night with my special man, if ya know what I mean (and I think ya do).

Gray skies are gonna clear up...

2008-11-05T06:47:00.001-06:00

Rain drops keep fallin' on her head...

2008-10-15T07:55:00.003-05:00

This may come as a surprise to some of you, but I am not always the most prepared mother. More often than not, I'm the mom scrambling to find the last 2 socks, matching or otherwise, on the way out the door. I'm the one who frantically signs permission slips with a crayon, on the way out the door. The one who, on the way out the door, has to go back 3-5 times to grab forgotten keys, glasses, money, brains...

So when the downpour started this morning just in time for school drop-off, I was sitting a little straighter in the car, knowing that even though I hadn't bought Ryan a raincoat since she was 4, I was still prepared with my ever-ready car umbrella.

The one I forgot was broken and doesn't open all the way.

So you can imagine the look of death Ryan threw my way as she crouched under the half-opened, jimmy-rigged umbrella, tilting her head to the side to avoid the eyeball hazard jutting out in front of her. As a 5th grade safety patrol kid looked on.

Therein lies the problem. Not that the umbrella is a piece of crap that offers her limited protection, but that she was seen holding it by someone other than an immediate family member.

At least, that's what I'm assuming the eye-rolling,hair-flipping silent response to my "Love you!" meant. Unless it meant, "Woman, you are the worst mother ever. Get off your dead ass and spring for a raincoat, or at least an umbrella that opens all the way." Yeah. That could be it.

The Dark Side

2008-10-14T07:49:00.003-05:00

While this title instantly gets me humming that awesome Eddie and the Cruisers tune (anyone?anyone?), I'm using it in it's more widely known context, ie: Darth Vader and all his little white robot people, or whatever they're called.

The point is, last night I woke in a sweat, fumbling for my glasses to see if, in fact, I'd woken up next to Darth Vader or possibly James Earl Jones. Surely that unmistakeable breathing belonged to one or the other.

But, no. It was Jax, stuffy-nosed and still sucking on his binky, his little ribs expanding with gusto every time he sucked in air, allowing no one within a 10 ft radius any peace.

Walking him back to his room, I tried to get him to give up the binky in favor of breathing, but he was having none of it. "I need it to sleep, Mom!" he protested.

"Yes, but you can't breathe, dude. If you aren't breathing, then you're not sleeping. You're dead."

You'd think the Dark Lord, of all people, would know that.

Fight Club

2008-10-13T07:54:00.003-05:00

There's something to be said for testosterone. While at our "Family Practitioner" last week, seeking relief from the red, swollen, pocked and puss-filled tonsils attacking my throat, I came across James Dobson's Bringing Up Boys. Looking for anything to take my mind off the fact that my kids were clawing onto the end of their "good" rope, having already been waiting an hour nd all, I skimmed through the first few chapters with feigned interest.

Until I saw the part where he confirmed what I've always known -- boys are born brain-damaged. Yes, that valuable T-hormone they're so fond of having, that Y chromosome that brings so many new dads to tears, actually washes over the male fetus and damages their walnut-sized brain.

I think we can all agree that this explains so much.

Like how last week, as Shawn was getting out of his truck and witnessed Jax being pushed by a neighbor boy, he immediately yelled "Hit him back!!" As if on cue, Jax lifted the older boy off the ground and slammed him back down to Earth with gusto. Stifling a victorious yell, Shawn quickly went to "assess" the situation, where Jax was excitedly awaiting him with a request for "High Five, Dad!"

One brain-damaged penis being raised by another brain-damaged penis. Peace and harmony never stood a chance.

Sick Sick Sick

2008-09-17T10:22:00.003-05:00

Ry has strep, and has been home going on 3 days now. The first day was fun -- a fresh breeze, my sweet little complacent sick child limply lying on the couch, wimpering with delight everytime we fawned over her, which with Shawn home all day was every 10 minutes. Did I mention Jax was at his grandmother's? Yes, life was clm and still and peaceful.

Yesterday Jax was home, but only for a bit before he was carted off to preschool, where he completed the most elaborate yarn-stretching loom thingy and had no accidents! Even his return to the house was uneventful, aided by the Happy Meals I purchased prior to picking him up. What's a little childhood obesity for the sake of sanity?

But today? God, help me, tody they're BOTH here, ALL DAY LONG, with no reprieve in sight. Well, that's not true -- tomorrow should be back to normal, but it's much more fun the melodramatic way. Either way, they've been at each other since daybreak, and I can see no further than this computer screen, I've blocked everything else out. Tht's how it works when they get this way -- I tune out and rock myself in a corner, and they turn everything upside down.

I suppose I could suck it up and be more hands-on, more involved, but I've been doing that for over 6 years now, and I'm getting tired. How home-schooling moms do this 24 hours a day, I'll never know, but if I don't get out and get some me-time pretty soon, someone may need to come check my pulse. I haven't exercised, shopped, or watched any R-rated movies in the past 3 days, and that's just 3 days too long.

Now, who's the sick one?

Kisses, rings, and other things...

2008-09-12T07:58:00.006-05:00

The love appears to be everywhere my kids go these days, except at home. Home is where the love goes to die. Okay, maybe not "dead", but definitely in hospice care. Roll your eyes if you must, but when you consistently find yourself brought down to the same level as your little ones, yelling and screaming at them to stop yelling and screaming, defeated as kicks and blows abound, love is not the word that comes to mind. Adoption, yes, but not so much love.

I know they've got the love in there, though. Jax's preschool techer told me just the other day that he hugged a little girl in his class, wrestled her to the ground and laid a big fat smooch on her. Shawn can't stop beaming with pride. I guess he sees it as the first step in Jax's "slaying of the ho's". I see it as the first step on the road to being a sexual predator, and in an effort to curb the whole forcing-them-down-to-the-ground for a little lip-locking action (also known as ASSAULT in some circles), I tried desperately to help him understand that kissing isn't for everyone.

"We keep our kisses for our family, Jax," I said. "Mommy gets kisses, Daddy, Ryan, Menana, Big Daddy...everyone in the family is okay to kiss, but that's it."

"And the girls," he retorted.

"No Jax, only kiss family."

"And the girls."

"No, baby. Just family."

"And the girls, too."

"Why Jax? Why do you want to kiss the girls?"

"I LIKE IT!! It's FUN!!"

I'm thinking it's not so much the actual kiss that's the fun part. My gut says it's the wrestling them to the ground that he enjoys.

Then there's Ryan, who received a ring from her off/on boyfriend-buddy this week. Dude spent 260 Chuck E Cheese tix on the thing. That's a lot of skee-ball, people. It's a stamp ring, and he gave it to her at school yesterday.

"What did he say, Ry?" I asked when she told me.

"Well, we were in the hall with our classes, so he couldn't really talk, but he threw it to me and said "It has a stamp!"

"And what was your fair reply?"

"I said, 'Cool! Thanks!' And then I asked if he had one in rainbow colors, instead."

Score one for Amy. Shawn may have Jax, but I knew my girl wouldn't let me down.

As for the "other things", Ike is upon us, as we no doubt are all aware, and many of our friends and family are sitting ducks, or were. Some have evacuted, some are holding steady. We're praying for all of them, and hope they don't receive too much damage. (The kids are more worried about what will happen to their favorite Rainforest Cafe on the Sea Wall in Galveston, but that doesn't mean they don't love you guys, too. Really.)

"Mom, come see this!"

2008-09-09T21:15:00.002-05:00

Four little words.Evoking so much emotion. Is it something good? Something bad? Something red and permnent and all over my walls?

Lately, it's been Jaxson calling me to have a look at the tater-turd he dropped in the toilet, completely oblivious to the fact that he's also managed to pee all over the bathroom floor.

This is the sight that greeted me twice today, when after hearing his beck and call, I slowly and grudgingly made my way to his locale, hazard mask, tongs, and industrial-strength cleaner already in hand.

But neither of those moments today compare to the 3rd moment I experienced with Jax -- the moment at gymnstics where he didn't make it in time, and puddled all over the bathroom floor, his clothes, and I think I even saw some in his ear. Except this time I was not prepared. At all. No change of clothes, no diapers, just some useless wet wipes and a copy of "The Other Boleyn Girl".

No way was I fashioning that into a diaper.

So, we wiped him down, pulled up his pants and walked out, pee-pee stained and all, heads held high, brazenly meeting the eyes of all the other moms and dads undoubtedly sitting in judgement, and we left.

And 5 minutes later we sent Ryan back to tell his coach that Jax hadn't run way or been kidknapped, but that his mother had snuck away with him in shame. According to Ry, he completely understood.

My Mastercard Commercial

2008-09-03T09:48:00.003-05:00

Kitchen faucet and stop angle replacement: $400

Rebuilding toilet and pipes: $200

Replace dishwasher: $500

Replace washing machine: $600

Repair broken water softener:$300

Servicing said Water Softener before it busts and ruins your plumbing?: PRICELESS (Actually, it would have cost $120, but still, that's nothing compared to the cool 2g's we're about to unload.)

Pribacy, Please!

2008-09-01T10:29:00.003-05:00

Jax's vocab is delightfully refreshing these days. When he's not screaming, projectile vomitting, or calling me "Stupid Mommy", that is.

We successfully completed potty training last week -- yay us!-- but now every time he goes, he yells,"Shut the door, I need my PRIBACY!!" Of course, he followed that up by running out of the bathroom, little member just a-swingin', shaking his bottom and singing, "My booty!My booty!"

Then there's the way he pronounces "Home Depot". You might not think that phrase would come around all that often, but we're talking about Jax. He owns the Home Depot 20 car, but to him its "Dome Pee-po". As in, "Mommy! That car next to us is Jimmie Johnson and we're Dome Pee-po. Go go go!!!"

Or the way he says "Holy Moly". Sounds a lot like "Homie Lowly". And I won't be correcting him anytime soon.

Sleeping with the Enemy

2008-08-27T21:43:00.005-05:00

I have something to confess. I've been sleeping with another man, and Shawn knows all about it.

He's a short, stocky sort, prone to fits of rage followed by smothering hugs and kisses.

My baby.

I admit it, I lay down with him and "sleep" him to sleep. I know I'm prolonging the inevitable, but I don't care. A stitch in time saves nine, and all that. What's 15 minutes of extra Mommy time lost if it means not constantly having to walk him back to his room every 15 minutes for the next two hours?

Not to mention, what warm-blooded, uterus-carrying woman wouldn't indulge in extra snuggle time with her special little guy? The way he covers my face with his hand, or tells me to stop singing when I try to soothe him with a lullaby... You can't find that kind of quality pillow time just anywhere.

Except, in my case, if you were to walk down the hall and jump into bed with his dad. I can't tell you the number of times I've woken up with Shawn's hand on my face. Actually, not so much his hand, as the pillow he's holding in it.

I guess it's more my breathing he minds than my singing. Either way, I'm a lucky, lucky girl.

Finally, First Grade!

2008-08-26T10:04:00.002-05:00

Well well. First day of school started without a hitch -- Ry was up early, bright & shiny, chatting away as I desperately tried to figure out a way to get her to hurry up without actually rushing her and stressing her out. I'm gonna save that for the second day of school.

She helped me with her lunch, then packed her toothbrush, hairbrush, and new barrettes, and we went next door so she and Emma could "get ready" together. They've been talking about it for weeks, and bless her heart, I know it must be 100 times more exciting for Ry than for Emma, but they had a great time, all smiles, and as they were pulling out of Elisa's drive, Ryan was brimming with joy.

Probably because she didn't have to have her MOM take her to school (so embarrassing). She specifically requested last night that we no longer walk her in the doors, not that we did that very much last year, but for the first day...well, no longer. She is officially "BIG", and that has left me in tears.

I've been waiting for this day so things could calm down a bit, and even though I detest neediness, I kind of wish she wanted me a little more, even when other more attractive options are present. But you reap what you sow, and so I will just be pleased that at least now I don't have to break up 600 fights today, that I can actully hold Jax without fear that she'll want to be picked up as well, and that the volume at home will be under airport decimal range.

If I could only get Jax to stop begging me to put his diaper back on, I'd be one step closer to solving World Peace. All in good time....

B2S

2008-08-23T08:57:00.005-05:00

Thank the sweet Lord. 2 1/2 months of being constantly outnumbered? Not as much of a vacation as you'd think.

We've met Ry's teacher, found out her buddy from gym is in her class, and once she's settled, Jax's diaper is coming off until he does his deeds in the potty. (Can't go to Kids Day Out until he's potty trained!!)

Other than all that, I completely let myself go in August, and will also be excited to get back to my routine. Not that it'll help, but at least I'll feel productive again.

A couple of pics from the summer....

Here's a 4th of July pic I've been meaning to post -- it's exciting to us because Shawn's in it!! Last time for a while...

They had so much fun in that parade, as did I, my mom and Ninny on the sidelines. Any chance we get to be catty and critical of other people's ridiculous floats is a good time for us! Unfortunately, I cannot upload the video, so you won't be able to hear the snarky comments we made as "Miss World America" rode by on the back of her '89 Trans Am, portable radio playing her theme song, as she tried to hide the fact that THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS "MISS WORLD AMERICA".

One of my favorite sights of the summer...Jax and Menana asleep on the deck.

And finally, some of my favorite photo subjects...My Boys...

Don't worry about Ry -- she's received plenty of photog attention from me, too...just check out her new webpage. God help us.

Back again

2008-08-21T13:50:00.004-05:00

Short hiatus, I apologize. Lice will do that to you, though. Blood-and-soul sucking little assholes.

This is what I've been doing the past two weeks:

Laundry, lots of laundry. And vacuuming. And nit-picking. Lord, the nit-picking.

I have to say, I was a little surprised at the pure exhaustiveness of it all. Not to mention, the tenacity of the buggers. They're apparently everywhere, have completely grown immune to pesticides of all strength, and the best you can do is wash, dry, vacuum and pry. And pick. Let's not forget the picking.

All I remember about lice as a kid was that one time some girl got it so bad they shaved her hair off, and so I shaved Jax's head (just to be over and done with him), and Ryan's hair was looking a little scraggly, so I bobbed it, too!

Thank God for the stimulus checks -- we spent 1/3 of ours on carpet and upholstery cleaning (things were looking scraggly here, too). One time when it was a blessing to have a last name beginning with Y. If we were the Babitts, that check would have been gone 2 months ago.

But now they're gone, until the next kid brings them home, and I'm back!

Measuring Time with Ryan

2008-08-14T15:35:00.001-05:00

Me: You guys have quiet time in your rooms for one hour.

Ryan: How many SpongeBob's is that?

Me: Four.

Ryan: Oh man...

Fun for Young and Old

2008-08-13T20:42:00.003-05:00

I'm not sure the video will even be viewable. My computer can't play any videos, audio, or any other media file, so my hopes are not very high for its uploadability.

Let me know if it works!

Number 7

2008-08-13T09:54:00.003-05:00

This morning as Shawn and I were trying to grasp a few extra minutes of alone time, we heard Jax scream, stomp up the stairs, and scream again.

"Whose I idea was Jax?" I mumbled.

Then, as if in answer, we heard Ryan scream, chasing Jax down the stairs.

"I don't know," Shawn said,"but I think we know who made him that way."

Does the 7- year-itch apply to your children as well?

Happy Anniversary, Baby!!

Laissez Les Bons Temps Rouler!!!

2008-08-04T23:20:00.003-05:00

Mother of God, Shah is getting married. Going about it in the only way fitting -- friends with the guy, start dating one month ago, and now they're planning on a January wedding. This is just one of the thousands of reasons I love her, as is her queer ability to find similarities in completely opposite items of clothing. She's famously quoted as saying, "I have a shirt just like that, except it's long-sleeved and has stripes instead of polka dots and is open in the back." And in the very next breath, she will give a painfully detailed matter-of-fact explanation as to why she can't eat green leafy items on Tuesdays, due to her shellfish and strawberry allergies. Or something to that effect.

So even though I've never met, spoken with, or even seen a picture of this "John", I'm more than certain that he must be FIERCE if he was able to snag that crazy coonass.

Let's pass a time, bebe!

Fool's Gold

2008-07-30T20:34:00.003-05:00

I'm not sure which is funnier -- Jax dancing to Dave Matthews Band "Listener Supported" like a mini bongo-wielding McConaughey, or Ryan replying "Thank you!" to Dave's "Y'all smell good this evening" comment to the crowd.

Basically, Shawn's been working the last two nights and we're clearly going into withdrawl.

Checking In

2008-07-10T08:59:00.003-05:00

From the 4th of July to a week alone with Jax, my days have been full and I haven't been able to get on to tell you all the wonderful stories that you've been missing. Plus, my horoscope for the month says I need to chill and just relax, so who am I to argue with the Zodiac???

Anyway, the 4th was spent at the lake where we outdid ourselves decorating the golf cart for this year's parade, which the kids thoroughly enjoyed being a part of, but even better than that -- Shawn was there!! This is the first time in I-don't-know-how-many years that he's been able to take off for the 4th, so the celebration was as much in honor of his independence as the US of A's.

I've got to get ready for my annual check-up now, or else I'd write about all the excitement we had surrounding fireworks and the 5th of July. Patience, children. The story will come.

Anyway, Ryan stayed with my folks this week while she took tennis lessons from one of Menana's old students. Apparently she's become the social secretary of Horseshoe Bay, scheduling dinners and tea parties, hob-knobbing with the cream of the crop, and keeping everyone on their toes. She oversaw the hatching of 2 baby birds and became a vegetarian for a few hours (until she learned that chicken tenders were banned).

Jax and I have spent the week together playing, napping, baking, and cleaning up one mess after another. We're very ready to get our girl back, although I think she's more excited about seeing her friends than seeing us, especially after the conversation we had yesterday:

Ryan: Did you clean my room?

Me: Uh, NO.

Ryan: Is it still messy?

Me: Uh, YES.

Ryan: Do you think you could take care of that for me?

Me: Uh, NO.

Ryan: Am I gonna have to do it when I get home?

Me: Uh, YES.

Ryan: hmmpphh!

Good times, good times.

Anyway, we were supposed to be heading to Corpus this weekend, but Shawn's been working non-stop since the holiday and is feeling inder the weather so we're forgoing the beach to hang around the house and just be chill.

Wish us luck with that.

Trail's End

2008-07-01T12:58:00.002-05:00

Yesterday my friend Jill and I took the kids to Trail's End Equestrian Center in Leander to feed the horses there. It's owned by our Psycho Spin Instructor Ben and his wife Kerri, and we've been talking about going for months now, but as is usually the case, one thing or another always comes up -- until now!

Their ranch is amazing -- set deep in a canyon in the hill country, just 20 minutes from our house, the view is spectactular, the horses were gorgeous, and my resolve to live on some real expanse of land and own a horse was definitely reinforced.

They use the Parelli method of training the horses and use no saddles, reins, or anything. You can totally tell how calm and gentle they are with the horses, especially as Jax was spinning and running and yelling and jumping, even grabbing a tail or two, and not one kick or whinny did he receive. Those horses could teach Ryan a thing or two about ignoring her brother...

Here's Crazy Ben, who though surely mentally imbalanced when it comes to spinning, is actually quite tame and normal when his horses are around.

This is him playing and doing tricks with two of the horses -- they climb stairs, play with exercise balls, run figure eights -- all without him touching or talking to them. He just uses his body to signal what he wants them to and they DO IT! (**Note to self: must find Parelli training method for children...)

The kids were so excited, and had such a good time, that it took massive effort on our parts to get them back in the cars, but seeing as how Crazy Ben was about to start building the foundation for a hay barn, we thought it best to get out of the way before he put us to work. You never know with that one.

And this? Well this is just a pic of Ryan Bingham from his show a couple of weeks ago. Just thought you might like to see it. You can thank me later.

Teaching what matters

2008-06-27T08:50:00.004-05:00

Yesterday, in a valiant effort to fight boredom, Ryan decided to set up a stand to sell her stuffed animals. She made a sign that read like this:

Anamul stor

ownd by
Ryan York

I helped her drag out a table, and off she went, lugging 8 stuffed animals behind her, into the ridiculously hot 3 pm Texas afternoon.

Five minutes later, she walked back in the house carrying her animals, lower lip dragging on the floor.

"What happened?" I asked.

"No one came. Stupid stuffed animals."

What a relief to see the amazing job I've done of instilling in her the virtues of impatience and blame. We wouldn't want her to be too well-developed, now would we? Got to give the other kids a chance and all that.

Even more encouraging was the conversation we had earlier this morning. Ryan had seen a mosquito and mentioned wanting to shoot all the mosquitos with a gun.

"That's a bit much, huh? Guns aren't funny. They take people's lives, and who's in charge of ending people's lives? "

"You?"

And don't you forget it....

Who's Your Daddy?

2008-06-25T19:45:00.000-05:00

I really was just a carrier, wasn't I?

Big Balls In Cow Town

2008-06-23T08:26:00.001-05:00

(Written Tuesday Night 6/17):

When I was in high school, there was this coach who taught economics. Complete stereotypical Texas coach -- big belly, tight pants, and a very heavy accent. And did I mention his NUTS WERE THE SIZE OF TENNIS BALLS? Well, they were. And when I say he wore his pants tight, I'm referring to Wranglers. The really really tight ones.

And do you want to guess where his favorite place to hang out in the clssroom was? Front and center, half-perched on a kitchen stool. As if to say, "See? See my ridiculously LARGE BALLS?See them. Love them. "

I never once got through that class without humming, Big balls in cowtown, we'll all go down...

Why am I subjecting you to these cruel, cruel visuals? Because until last night, I hadn't thought of him in years. In fact, there's another reason why I've desperately tried to banish him from my memory (as if that wasn't enough).

First, let me just say how pissed I am now that they let a coach like him teach economics. He was horrible. Didn't teach me one damn thing. I, of course, got an A in the class. (My project partner was the valedictorian--it was a tight race; he insisted on completing the project entirely on his own. He didn't trust the rest of us mere mortals. We, being 17 and months away from FREEDOM, sad "have fun" and kicked back. So now I know shit about economics, all because Big Bazlls didn't care enough to actually make me work. Or, perhps he was a phenomenal teacher -- I was most certainly so entranced by the lure of the loins that it all went right past me. Either way, I was short changed. (Put that in your economics pipe and smoke it)

Second, and most important, Big Ball's class was the scene of the FATAL FINGER FOLLY. It was a warm summer day, we were counting down the weeks until graduation, Valedictorian Boy was covering my ass in eco, so I, of course, was spending my class time severing the head of a min-Barbie doll (I'd had a Happy Meal for lunch that day... hmmm...not much has changed, has it?) with my mini Swiss Army knife. So there I was, happily sawing along, and Slip! Slice! Spurts of blood came shooting out of my middle finger, covering my books, desk, Valedictorian Boy in splashes of red. Big Balls, rolling his eyes at the weird girl playing with a pocket knife and a miniature Barbie, sent me straight to the nurse with strict instruction not to come back "until you've got all that crap cleaned up now, ya hear?" (Hauck, spit, adjust ENORMOUS BALLS)

Aside from the fact that my finger was throbbing and losing pints of blood by the minute, I was enjoying my break from class until I had to start explaining how it happened to everyone I saw in the hallway. And you know me, Miss TMI, I couldn't get away with simply telling people I cut myself; no, I had to stop and mime the actual activity, explaining it pretty much the same as I just did above. (Again, not much has changed on my end of things.)

Beyond the fact that after about the 3rd explnation, I began to catch on that people thought I was a bit off, and stopped thinking of it as a funny diversion from class, I also learned that there would be a possibility of stitches.

This was not turning into the fun joyride I'd thought it'd be.

Lucky for me, I ended up with just a butterfly bandaid thingy and some very funny "You Are The Dumbest Human On The Planet" cards from my closest friends.

Good Lord, this is longer story than I'd planned.

Anywy, the reason I thought about him was because I sliced my finger open earlier this week, blood spurted, it hurt, and this time, well this time I ended up with 6 stitches. REL ONES. The kind they do on tv. AND I hd to get a tetanus shot. TETANUS SHOTS HURT.

And then? And then he shot numbing stuff into each of my 2 huge, gaping cuts . WITH A NEEDLE. HARD.

I wasn't aware that this would be happening until about 2 seconds before it happened. Apparently Shawn knew, but I was clueless. It was after the 5th time the doctor asked if I was sure I would be okay, did I need to lie down? Throw up? that I finally said, "what the hell are you about to do to me?"

Then they told me, I lied down, almost threw up, told him just to do it, and squeezed the ever-living soul out of Shawn through his hand.

That was Tuesday morning at 1:30. We'd been there since 9:30 Monday night, but what with all the waiting and xrays and TETANUS SHOTS, you can understand how putting 6 stitches into a cut pinky finger would take 4 hours.

That's all I kept saying, by the way..."but I just cut my finger. I wasn't even going to come in." I think it was the shock. But this time? This time I had a much more valid, grown-up excuse: I was washing our glass blender in the sink, lost my grip, it shattered and sliced my pinky. Twice.

When I wasn't whining about all the fuss, I was humming...Big Balls in cowtown, we'll all go down...

I TOLD YOU SO

2008-06-18T12:55:00.004-05:00

Forgive the title. It's directed at my soul mate, my best friend, my husband. The one family member who never reads this blog. My Shawn. It's referring to a little snippit of convo I just heard between Ryan and her friend Grace,

Grace: I like your Dad, but sometimes he scares me.

Ryan: Why?

Grace: You know, because he's...scary.

I've been telling Shawn this for the past two years. I've warned him of becoming Scary Grizzly Dad. And now he's done it.

All Dressed Up...

2008-06-15T22:51:00.002-05:00

Hohum...Just getting all the finishing touches ready for the "theatre camp" I'm holding here this week. I'm really quite excited about it -- I haven't pulled some of this theatre stuff out in years. But now, I'm on this excited, anticipatory high, and I've got nothing left to do but log on and finally update the internets on what's been happening in our world as of late... (hang on, I may need to chug one more Macha Frappaccino before I go any further)

Last week was pretty decent -- Ryan was at Camp Doublecreek most of the time, while Jax and I took turns alternating between swimming at the pool and watching old school Scooby-Doo. He also spent two days at Kids Day Out, where he was hailed as "hysterical" and "so much fun."

Well sure, when, you surround him with other kids his age and tons of fun stuff to do...

Anyway, Saturday and Sunday were spent at the lake, where Jax is still residing until Friday afternoon at 12:30.

That's when we'll be performing our camp circus, so I might as well let him come -- he can be all "hysterical" and stuff. People will think we planned it. It'll be a hit.

02:14:32

2008-06-09T08:19:00.004-05:00

I DID IT!! Not as fast as I would have liked, but that's what happens when you don't train hard enough, and then take a nasty spill on the bike course. I'm not at all surprised, what with my turbulent relationship with bikes and all. What? You've not heard the many hilarious stories of me falling off a bike? Well...

First, when I was about 5 0r 6, I received a boy's bike as a hand-me-down, and LOVED it. Until I took a major blow to the crotch, experiencing pain no little girl should ever have to experience.

Then there was the time I was "running away" on my 10 speed at the age of 10 or 11, got a bee in my hair, and in an attempt to shake it out, ate the road instead.

Then there was the time when, just minutes after having learned that Big Daddy had had his 3rd heart attack while at college, I went riding with my friend Brad and bit it on a downhill curve on the busiest road at SWT. Not at all embarassing.

So was I surprised that I crashed yesterday, taking a chunk out of my elbow, skinning my hip bone and ripping open the skin on my knee? Huh. I expected nothing less.

Anyway, here are a few pics from the big day:

One of those yellow caps is me!

Showing off my war wounds halfwy through the run (the pic does not do them justice!!)

And, finally, Big Booty Judy in all her glory, getting ready to cross the finish line.

Woohoo!! And just because I'm sooo happy to have this over with, I'm going to leave you with an OT, but very cute pic of Jax from the pool -- he sported that Alfalfa look the whole time we were swimming -- priceless!

HAVE A GREAT DAY!!!!

The Triathalon Cometh

2008-06-07T09:13:00.005-05:00

Jesus, Mary and Joseph. I'm not so sure about this whole "triathalon" nonsense. I leave to pick up my race day packet in about 45 minutes, and as I'm perusing the map of the race site, I'm starting to think that I've lost my mind.

I'm not an athelete. I never got picked first for any sports, and it's been said that I may even have passed out 10 feet from the finish line during our district 400 meter run in Jr. High. (I was unaware of the term "carb-loading" at the time.)

Also? Just took the bike I'll be riding out for the first time last night. Great bike, easy to ride (thanks, Elisa!), but 3 miles in 20 minutes? At that rate, I'll finish in under 3 hours, not under 2 like I was hoping. If I even finish -- the swim looks like a BITCH. But, I've waited this long to start panicking, so I guess I can shove my emotions down down down and not think about it until tomorrow around 6 am....

This next part is mainly for my family, none of whom is willing to drag their respective butt's out of bed and cheer me on. Here's the map of the entire course. See that little spot where it says "Swim Exit"? That's where I'm thinking I will punk out and possibly die. If I don't cross the finish line, someone tell Shawn to look for me there.

Headbands and Hannah

2008-06-03T10:12:00.003-05:00

This boy of ours slays me. He is so ridiculously rough and destructive one minute, and the next he's prancing around with Ryan, wearing one of her glitter headbands, repeating everything Ryan says, like: "WooHoo!! The Jonas Brothers!" or "Oh my Gosh! Tinkerbell!!" with as much emphasis and enthusiasm as any 6 yr old girl I know.

And then he snaps the headband in 2, throws it at his sister, and runs off, laughing and singing, "Booty Butt Ryan! Stinky booty! Booty Booty Booty!!!"

Random Video Saturday

2008-05-31T10:01:00.006-05:00

A day late, I know, but here are some pics of what's been keeping me away...

THE APRON. I finally finished our end-of-year gift for Ryan's teacher yesterday at 2:25 pm. 10 minutes before our very last chance to give it to her. Normally I would chalk up this kinda of under-the-wire finish to procrastination, but in this case, the delay was, well, Jaxson. Let's just be honest.

The Chinese characters mean "teacher". God, I hope they do, anyway. It would be just like me to accidentally sew "prostitute" or something.

Also? I've been spending extra time with some of my newest babies:

We went to Wildseed Farms last weekend and I picked up 2 new Hibiscus, although one of the new ones isn't in this picture. I also got these:

My Spanish Lavender, tucked away in the little make-shift herb garden. I'll save more of those tantalizing pics for another day.

Anyway, here's the video! It's a fun one of Ry climbing at the Dillo Jr. Run. (I told you I'd post them eventually...) Enjoy!!

May Madness

2008-05-28T09:25:00.005-05:00

Forget about the Sweet Sixteen and the Final Four, if you really want to show you're tough, you have to survive May Madness.

Very similar in origin to Holiday Havoc, May Madness comes stocked with end-of-school parties, gifts to be made/purchsed, camps and classes to plan and register for, vacations to schedule, oh, andc then there's the little matter of fending off/relenting to the children's hourly request to go to the pool. Throw in birthdays, Mother's Day, weddings and Memorial Day, and the one standing at the end of the month is the winner!

I'm gonna go ahead and just admit that although I gripe about the stress May incurs, I'm very thankful for the minimal level it causes now, considering the colossal ball of walking tears I'll become during the maximum level of stress waiting for me in May 2020.

Ryan had her awards assembly yesterday, which we were late for, along with 1/3 of the other parents. Jax was rowdy, Ryan was LAST (of the entire assembly) and we were so far in the back, we didn't really get any good pictures. (That'd be where that whole "late" thing comes in.)

Here is what I did get:

See how proudly she's displaying her "most inquiring learner" award? Little does she know that's teacher speak for "the one who won't stop asking questions". I think it's awesome -- QUESTION AUTHORITY RYAN!! (Except when it's me or dad. Then you may let it slide.)

Now I'm off to tend to my garden, small and meek though it is. I've got pics, but I'll save them for later....

Hibiscus Hysterics

2008-05-25T21:11:00.003-05:00

My beautiful, beautiful babies!!

So vibrant. So fresh. So totally massacred 10 minutes after these pics were taken by a lug-headed 3 yr old troll wielding a plastic toy saw.

Random Video Friday

2008-05-23T09:59:00.003-05:00

Sorry, I'd stay and chat, but Jax just poured a bottle of parmesan cheese into his mouth and half of it ended up on the floor. Gotta go!

Fun Fleamarket Find

2008-05-22T08:12:00.002-05:00

So, I'm not sure when this little jewel was actually made, although I'm guessing...80's? Did they even have battery-operated cars in the 70's? How about battery-operated cars complete with hydraulics, flashing lights and accompanying Mariachi music?

Whenever it was made, it was totally worth the $4 I paid at last weekend's Fredericksburg Trade Days. Jax hasn't stopped playing with it, and although the noise is a little distracting, can anyone really ever hear too much Mariachi music? I mean, really?

Angel Kisses

2008-05-19T08:32:00.002-05:00

Ryan: "Mom! I'm getting really tired of everybody always asking me about the bumps on my neck! Everyday they ask, 'what are those things?what are those things?' And everyday I tell them 'They're my Angel Kisses, okay! They're ANGEL KISSES!!!' but they just keep asking and it's really making me mad!"

Mom: "Well, Baby, then just tell them this: 'These are my top-secret warts and they won't hurt me, but if you get too close or touch them, or make me really mad, then they will explode and kill you.' That should stop them."

Ryan: "Okay, mom, like nobody is going to believe that."

Mom: "Then just say that they're your skin tags, they're just bumps of skin, they don't hurt you and they won't hurt anyone else. Just tell them the truth."

Dad: "They're just like birthmarks, Ry."

Ryan: "Well you know what I'm going to say? I'm just going to tell them 'You know what? If you had a funny birthmark on you and I asked what it was and you said "Angel Kisses", then I wouldn't ask anymore. And I wouldn't laugh at you or make fun of you, I would just leave you alone. Can you do the same for me??' That's what I'm gonna say."

Mom: "That's wonderful Ry. Just remind them that everyone has birthmarks, and everyone's are different. You can even tell them about Mommy's birthmark on my butt if you want."

Ryan: "OOH! No, I'm not gonna tell them about that! ....What birthmark on your butt? Let me see....OOOOOOHHHH! The Angels kissed your butt!!! "

The one where Mommy goes Mad

2008-05-16T07:59:00.003-05:00

Mad is the new black, or hadn't you heard?

I'm not sure if it's the pre-breakfast temper tantrums Jax has been throwing this week, the fact that the Family Selection committee I chair for Habitat has dwindled down to three, leaving us to scramble to meet the newly moved-up deadline of having all home visits done by...TODAY, the fact that Ryan went to school today with my cellphone in her pocket, or that it's May, which means DADDY WORKS ALL THE TIME. Whatever it is, it got up bright and early to pee all over my cheerios and now I feel the wave of insanity inching its way toward the surface.

Breathe with me, people. I'm afraid if I yell anymore my head may explode, which I'm thinking would be even harder to clean off the carpet than those eggs. Remember them??

Catholic Guilt Runs Deep, My Sistah

2008-05-15T13:24:00.009-05:00

So I just received an email from Ninny in response to another email I'd sent about helping Chinese earthquake victims. She wanted to know why I wasn't trying to help her friends by forwarding their charity golf tournament email she'd sent to me. Although I gently explained that I am a perfect sister, and therefore had already forwarded the email, I still feel her Inner Catholic Eye (or as I like to call it: I.C.E.).

Yes, her I.C.E. is boring a hole through my soul using lasers of guilt pebbled with tiny fragments of shame, and so that it is why I would like to tell you all about a little Charity Golf Tournment being held September 29, 2008. Well, that's not the only reason, but it is a pretty good motivator.

I'm just going to go ahead and post the email below:

Hello everyone,

If you are receiving this email, then you either know Phillip and Sara Kreymer, or you know someone who knows them. As you may have heard, Phillip was diagnosed with a brain tumor just over a year ago. He has had two surgeries and has been undergoing chemotherapy and radiation treatments this past year. In an effort to help support the Kreymers during this difficult time, we will be having a golf tournament benefiting Phillip on September 29, 2008 . This event is to raise money for the Kreymers as Phillip continues to undergo his treatments. Please take a moment to read the attached bio to learn more about Phillip’s experience.

We are asking each of you to please help us in this effort by sending this information to everyone you can to help us find sponsors, players, items for raffles and prizes, etc. This event can be a great success if you will help us spread the word to your friends, family, co-workers, and any business owners you may know.

For those of you who are not interested in playing, donating items for raffles and prizes would be great. For those of you who would like to play or volunteer at the event, the registration forms are attached for you to fill out. All of the forms for volunteers, donations, sponsorships, and players are attached – be sure to scroll down to see all of the forms. Registering as soon as possible is greatly appreciated!

For further information regarding sponsorship, golf registration and raffle donations, please contact Stayci Runnels at Lantana Golf Club, 940-728-4653 or visit http://www.strengthforphillip.com/.

You can also view an article written by The News Connection by clicking this link:
http://www.thenewsconnection.com/article.cfm?articleID=31378

We appreciate your support!

I'm not sure if any of you live near Lantana or know someone who does, but I, for one, am planning on making a ROAD TRI-UHP!! (Tanya - that means Shawn & I will be staying with you. And probably Jeff & Lalo, too. But don't tell them yet. I want to ambush them. I really think they'll be surprised!)

Really, though. Take a look at the website. Now. NOW. (Now you're just thinking I can see you from the computer, right? Well I can. Now go!)

Just another 5 minutes

2008-05-15T08:49:00.003-05:00

Now if I'd only recorded the 15 minutes we all spent in the hall closet last night while waiting out the "tornado". Let me put it this way: Shawn, dark closet, flashlight, ghost story. You've never seen 2 kids so enthralled, or so bummed to come out of a closet.

Knitting for Peace

2008-05-14T15:37:00.003-05:00

Well, I'd planned on showing a random 5 min video clip from yesterday that made me laugh, but it's still"processing", which it has been doing for over 8 hours now. For 5 min of footage. That's correct. It's been "processing" "99%" of 5 minutes of video for over 8 hours. It's been a great excuse to practice my breathing. And my sighing, grunting, and growling.

So rather than postpone the next post until next week (by when I'm sure it would be done "processing"...um, right?), I thought I'd just pop in and tell you about the book I bought last week and subsequently fell in LOVE with. BFF love. 4-EVA.

Truly, I've already started a list of who's getting which projects for Christmas. Lemme just say, I know a couple of gals who are really going to enjoy their Peace Fleece Classic Wool Socks! Am I right Lea? Nin?

The Lemonade Stand

2008-05-12T22:11:00.002-05:00

Once upon a time, there was a Fair Queen who threw a festive "trunk show" party, bubbling for weeks with excitement over the beautiful products she was creating and the certain success of the upcoming event.

The day of the party finally arrived and our Queen, having steamed the carpet by hand, moved furniture, redecorated with displays of her gorgeous gift baskets and custom holiday cards, purchased mini quiches, mini cheesecakes and bottles of champagne, sat anxiously in her home, alone, waiting eagerly for the company that never came.

Ironically, years before the Queen's own mother had experienced a similar fate as a child, when no one attended the birthday party she and her parents had worked so hard on. (Don't feel too bad for the Queen and her mother -- they both ended up with wonderful lives, and I've hjeard tell that the Fair Queen even managed to turn her frown upside down by consuming all the mini-quiches and mini cheesecakes and bottles of champagne all by herself, though again, that's just a rumor.)

You can see why, with all the history in her family, the King was a little worried no one would show up to his Princess's Lemonade Stand that she'd been planning for days.

Little did he know, the curse of the Lonely Party had been broken when the beautiful Princess was born, (owing mainly to her incessant reminders and bugging of friends and family, but that is neither here nor there).

And so it was that Ryan's Annual Peace, Love & Lemonade Event was born, a huge success in its own right, with sold-out cookies, candy, popcorn and lemonade, a FREE sprinkler to play in, and $25 in proceeds donated to Unicef. Friends, family and teachers came from high and lo, along with a couple of Lawn Men who came back for seconds, thirds and fourths (although they did refuse the sprinkler, even after the kids mentioned it was FREE. Silly Lawn Men).

The Prince and Princess, obviously deep in a marketing strategy meeting

THE LEMONADE STAND

Ryan's secret wepon: The neighborhood GodFather. Would YOU say "no" to this face???

Jax Says...

2008-05-08T08:51:00.003-05:00

"Daddy loves me."

Me: "And who else?"

"Ryan."

Me: "And who else?"

"Menana and Big Daddy."

Me: "Uh-huh. Who else?"

"...Jeff Gordon..."

I can hear Shawn banging his head against the wall even as I type this...

That Sounds About Right

2008-05-06T17:59:00.002-05:00

Had you been a fly on my wall just 5 minutes ago, here's what you would have overheard:

Me (talking to my sis on the phone): "Nin, I gotta go. Jax is beating the guitar with a golf club."

Our weekend kicks your weekend's ASS!

2008-05-05T21:27:00.003-05:00

Took what can only be described as a LONG road trip with Big Daddy, Menana and the kids to visit Honey and Pappy this weekend.

Considering the behavior issues Jax has been throwing at us lately, you'd think we'd know better, but you'd be wrong. We are incomprehensibly stupid and no amount of banging pur heads on any hard surface will change that. Believe me, we've tried.

Our first mistake was leaving around 4 pm on a Friday afternoon. For a 5 hour trip. Through Houston. Did I mention Jax was with us?

While we couldn't help the time we left, we did try to be prepared. We brought along our little dvd player (which, SONY, is NOT skip-proof), plenty of movies, snacks galore, toys, books, and I, of course, had my beer. Open Container Policy, be damned!!!!

15 minutes down the road, though, none of that mattered, because Scooby Doo kept skipping, Ryan kept whining that Scooby kept skipping, Jax kept dropping his cars and asking me to retrieve them, and I, consequently, kept spilling my beer.

Oh, and did I mention the pinched nerve in my lower back that has been sending shooting pains down my leg since Thursday night? Those came with us, too -- hence, the beer.

We reached our midway mark around 7pm, stopped, had dinner, treated the kids to ice cream cones that had to be finished in 5 minutes (before entering the car), and kept heading east. Houston came too quickly, as it seems to do every time we venture to our old stomping grounds, and I think it was right around Pasadena that we were forced to merge to one lane on I10 in order to give the Houston CSU team enough room to gather evidence from the Freeway Shootout that must have happened just hours before. Try explaining that one to the world's most inquisitive children.

Finally, we reached our destination around 10:45, after managing to get the kids to sleep a mere 30 minutes before. No big deal. Surely they were as tired as we, no? Surely they would gratefully collapse into bed and drift off to dreams in no time. Surely I've been reading too many fairytales.

It wasn't until 12:30 that Jax finally went down, having exhausted himself for half an hour crying over the binky we spent the previous half hour searching for to no avail, until, at the end of my already very short rope, I did one more crawl-around, begging Saint Anthony for his God-Blessed help JUST THIS ONE LAST TIME, PLEASE, and discovered it gingerly lying just under the bed's dust-ruffle.

Normally, this type of fiasco would really have pissed Big Daddy off, but seeing as how he and Menana had opted to shack up at the Holiday Inn, rather than roughing it with us at Pappy's, he didn't have to endure even one second of the RAGE THAT WOULD NOT STOP.

He did, however, get to suffer the effects of it the next morning when, after waking again at 3 am for another screaming bout, Jax was up and ready to go at 6:30 am. Mommy, however, was not, and so graciously ALLOWED Menana, Big Daddy and Pappy to take the kids with them to breakfast and a shopping jaunt at Target. Suckers.

They returned around 11 am, with a story that must have seemed one-of-a-kind to them but sadly, to me, sounded like just another day.

Apparently, Jax managed to crash a mannequin, seperating her body from her arms, legs, and hands, as well as severing her right index finger. Next, when kindly approached by a patrolling officer, proceeded to "blllttthhhh" with his tongue at the nice man, and then body-slam Menana to the ground.

And was rewarded with a new set of Thomas toys. Wonders never cease.

Apprently, raising hell takes a bit out of you, because as soon as we set him down in bed for a nap, he was out for the next 3 hours.

According to Big Daddy, Menana and I used that down time to our advantage, being the, what was the word he used?Ahh yes, OPPORTUNISTS that were, and left to visit Honey for lunch and do some light shopping at Target (apparently, Port Neches is the Target shopping mecca of SE Texas). Our high-rolling time didn't last long though, for Big Daddy was quickly on the phone demanding we get back asap. Was Jax awake? No, but we were having fun while he was stuck in the same house alone with his father-in-law and two young kids. This is not the way he rolls.

We continued our assault on our Cajun counterparts at a family crawfish boil, yelling at Jax to stop putting his fingers near the resident Pit Bull's mouth, and listening to Pappy do his thing on the fiddle. Hey diddle diddle.

Next up was dinner time with Honey, while Ry made friends with the smoking population of Gulf Heath Nursing Home out on the front porch. Then it was on to the hotel for a dip in the pool, which Ryan couldn't get enough of (once I'd made the second trip back to the house to retrieve her forgotten bathingsuit), much the opposite from her brother who would not allow himself to be brought even an inch off the steps without complete air-lift support from Big Daddy. For such a tough little horse's ass, he sure is a big ol' pussycat. We topped the evening with McDonalds, consumed around a kitchen table that just doesn't seem alive without Honey's presence, bid our goodnight's to Mom and Dad, and headed to bed.

And then I realized that the binky was in the car. At the hotel. Side note: I can now drive from Pappy's house to the Holidy Inn in my sleep.

Thanks to the long day and swimming episode, the night was sleep-filled and uneventful, as was the majority of the ride home. Actually, the ease of the ride home was largely due to the influence of this book, which I'd just checked out from the library on the recommendation of a child psychologist friend. (Every mom should have a Child Psychologist for a friend.)

And that, my friends, is why our weekend kicks your weekend's weenie ass. Challenge me. I dare you.

Typo Tantrum

2008-04-30T20:59:00.003-05:00

Yes, I have noticed the typo's in recent posts, and no, I'm not regressing back to 5th grade english. The fact of the matter is, Jax is obsessed with the "A" key, has removed it several times, chewed on it a bit, and now it is what we like to call "tempermental".

As you can see, I don't care about it enough to do spellcheck everytime, especially since you're lucky to get me to type anything on here these days. That said, I promise to try harder to punch that A key as hard as possible in the future. I hope this will please those of you who I know are mentally scolding me everytime you see the errors of my typing (mom).

That said, I'm off to darn the holes in Shawn's socks -- how mad do you think he'd be if I used pink thread? I'm seriously considering...

The Monster in the House

2008-04-30T14:58:00.002-05:00

Jax camre running into our room in the wee hours of the morning tody, as usual, but this time he was scared -- nd very vocal.

"There's a monster in my room! The monster, thew clock, Ryan. The monster!!!"

Having just been dreaming that this sweet little 3 yr old was trying to kill me (yeah, what does THAT mean??), I mumbled something, set up a pallet on the floor and tried to go back to sleep.

Of course, just minutes later Ry cam bounding in, whining, "No fair! How come he gets to sleep in here?"

So I set up a pllet for her, listened to them argue for a few minutes about who had more/not enough room on the floor, then giggled to myself as Shawn grumbled to them fron his sleep, sending them into another arguement (a whispering one this one) about who was being louder.

Later this morning as I ws getting Jax dressed, he commented on the monster in his room again, and this time I answered, "No, baby. There's no monster. See?" Showing him that all the nooks and crannies in his room were just that, he bounced back with, "No, Mommy! The monster! Ryan! By the clock!!"

"There is no clock in here Jax -- and are you saying that Ryan was the monster?"

"Yes! Ryan Monster! She SCARE me!!"

Listening to her bully him now, I can certainly see why...

24 Hours Later...

2008-04-30T08:28:00.005-05:00

...and we have video!!! You do NOT want to know what I went through to get this out to you kind folks. All I can say is, if there is anyone reading out there from Flip Video, please let me know why it took all day to "process", "save" and "upload" the following 5 minutes of video. Also, if there is an "easy" way to edit them all together, that would be great. I tried, but when I realized it wouldn't be finished until 2010, I decided to just leave them dissected and seperate. At least I was able to put them in order on here.

Also, in honor of the wonderful firemen who transported my precious cargo, let's all get out to Baskin Robbins today for their 31 cents per scoop day, supporting America's Firefighters. Yumm!!!! (That's what she said.)

I guess you might be wondering how they got so lucky as to get a ride to school on the Big Red Bus, and let me just tell you -- it wasn't cheap. I won the 2 seats in a silent auction at Ry's school (yes, I'm THAT mom). Lea and Nin chipped in to pay for Jax's seat as a birthday gift, and my wallet is very appreciative!!

You know you're an AWESOME parent when...

2008-04-29T08:48:00.002-05:00

...your 6 yr old daughter proclaims that you are the "worstest and meanest" mom ever, and that she wishes she was never born...all because you were too rough when brushing her hair. I can't wait to see how she reacts when we have her fitted for her chastity belt.

** Check back later for pics from the kids' ride to school on the firetruck -- and to hear all about Ninny's attempts to snag herself a fireman.

The Parenting Gap

2008-04-28T16:33:00.003-05:00

Shawn is such a good Dad. He loves his kids, sacrifices for them everyday, and even indulges my periodic thoughts of having more. But like every man, he has his shortcomings. One of which is the weird way he chooses what misbehavior gets disciplined and what does not.

Take for instance his latest battle with Jax. For whatever reason, Jax's newest thing is repeating the phrase "booty butt" over nd over and over. And over. It doesn't really bother me (in fact, I may or may not be guilty of using the phrase myself from time to time), but it downright boils Shawn's blood.

I'm not sure what it is about the phrase, but those two words together flowing from our son's mouth send Shawn reeling. He doesn't mind the "booty", seeing as how he's yet to reprimand Jax when he calls any of us "booty" (which he frequently does; I am, in fact, looking into legally changing my name to Mommy Booty York), and I know it's not the "butt" part, because he himself is frequently heard clling the kids "butt-munch", "butt-head", and so forth. No, it's the joining of the words that pulls the punch, inexplicable to me, but then again, so is his habit of smelling his food before he eats.

I guess it's a little like my refusal to let Ryan watch some of the "tween" dramas on tv, all the while letting her pull up a chair next to me to watch Desperate Housewives. Although, in my defense, I do cover her eyes and ears any time Edie or Gabrielle get anywhere near a man.

The Distance Between Us

2008-04-23T12:41:00.000-05:00

Let me just lay it out for ya nice and simple-like:

I'm having lots and lots of fun with my family, volunteering left, right, front and back, "training" for a triathalon, and spending my free time on projects like this and the ones in here. I've got a Theatre Camp I'm holding here in June, and another (potentially) in August, am still grasping at my fading dreams of maintaining a garden this summer, and then there's the whole other matter of keeping up with Jax during the day. Blogging has just become one more thing on my list of things to do, and slowly but surely, it's making its way further and further down that list.

That's not to say I've forgotten my far away friends and family who check in for updates from time to time -- I still love you and will post when I can, but be warned: they will no longer be quite so "daily basis", as it were.

I understand how hard this must be for some of you who rely on my wit to carry you through the day, but for those of you who have found yourself forlorn, please note: I'm not that funny. Funny went out the door with my waistline and self-lifting breasts. There are lots and lots of other sites you can read with much more accompanying laughter than this little blog. I know it's hard to believe, but trust me, you will survive.

So, until next week, hugs and kisses and all that good stuff.

My Baby, the Big Boy.

2008-04-14T08:46:00.014-05:00

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAX MAN!! We love you so so much -- you are so much fun to have around, even when you're spilling unidentified liquids, marking the furniture with Sharpies, and kicking the walls with unbridled rage. You are more than we ever bargained for, and we thank God every day for sending you to us!!! And now you'll have to excuse Mommy while I hide in my closet and cry. Don't be alarmed, now that I'm practically pre-menapausal, this will be happening often. Just do what Ryan does, Buddy -- Go into your room and start singing/screaming at the top of your lungs. That should drown out the sobs. Happy Birthday Big Boy!!

A Great Big Huge THANK YOU...

2008-04-01T13:33:00.006-05:00

to everyone for your thoughts and wishes for my birthday!! Thanks to you, I had the...

Make a slideshow - it's easy!

and a...

Make a slideshow - it's easy!

Details to come...(still recovering from Perfect Birthday Dinner)

Stream of Consciousness Day, contd.

2008-03-27T16:56:00.005-05:00

5. Ryan and her friend just came into the kitchen to get a drink, and as they were leaving, I called her name, flashing her the "I love you" hand sign. She smiled and flashed me a "hook 'em". I explained the difference between the two signs, and she said, "Mom?"

"Yes?"

Flashing me the "I love you" sign, she followed with the "pound" sign.

"That means 'very much'", she solemnly stated, then with all the melancholy available in the Unviverse, flashed the two signs again, pursed her lips, furrowed her brows and walked away.

6. Jaxson loves PINK. There. I said it. He loves it the most, over every other color, and while I think that totally rocks, Shawn's had a harder time, but I think the next time he gets a head butt to his gut/groin, he'll realize color choice don't mean shit. *hauck, spit*

Bits & Pieces

2008-03-27T16:34:00.001-05:00

1.After performing a trial run at her school's track yesterday, Ryan has opted out of the 1-mile run and will instead be running the Family Fun Run with the rest of us mere mortals.

2. Jax and I spent a fast and furious 30 minutes making, then burning, 36 cookies this afternoon.

3. Jax just poured shampoo all over his very dry head, while Ry and a friend are putting on makeup (aka:painting their faces purple) as prep for a fashion show/concert they will be performing momentarily.

4.The kitchen sink is filled with pots from a week ago (I still don't think I should have to clean them if I'm not the one who dirtied them), and I've yet to check off the "clean toilets/baths" box on my to-do list.

The good news?

My cantaloupe, squash and cucumber seeds are sprouting!!! Hooray for Beginner's Luck!

The One Where I Wonder If I Spoke Too Soon

2008-03-25T16:25:00.004-05:00

Shawn and Ry took some Daddy/Daughter time yesterday and went to play at the playground by Ryan's school. Among other things, she showed him how she runs the track during PE.

"Man, she just took off running and ran the whole lap like it was nothing." Even as the butterflies began hatching in my stomach, cued by memories of running track to please my Dad, I suggested she run in the Junior 'Dillo (the kid version of the Cap 10k) this Saturday.

"Yes, yes, yes," she squealed with delight, as I kicked myself in the ass.

Just now, she and I were looking at the race registration, and I explained that there were 2 races she could pick to run: the longer, 1-mile Junior 'Dillo run, or the 1/2 mile Family Fun Run.

"Which one gets you a prize?" she asked. Naturally.

"Well, the mile run has prizes for the kids who finish first in their age group, but I don't want you to enter just to get a prize. I'm not saying you won't win a prize, but there are a lot of kids running the race, so there's a chance you might not win. I just want you to do it because it's fun."

That's right, Rule #1 in the chunkyrhino parenting book: Shoot down the dream before it gets shot down for them.

"The other race is shorter, and you, me and Jax can all run or walk in it together," I continued, "but you can enter whichever one you want."

"I want to do the long one, and I want to do it on my own."

**Butterflies fluttering**

"Okay, but I'm going to have to let Jax run, too, which means I'll probably have to run with him."

"That's fine with me, but I don't want to run with you guys. I want to do it on my own."

Butterflies now in my throat, I started running through every reason imaginable for her not to run. "You know, a mile is kinda long. It's like 4 or 5 laps around your track at school. Do you think you could run that?"

"Like in PE?"

"How many times do you run around the track in PE?"

"They just make us run until they blow the whistle, but it's a lot."

(ah, yes, how I miss the ease of being an athletic coach...)

Damn, I guess I have to let her run, even though I won't be able to run with her, even though I won't be able to take her pic as she tries to win, even though I probably won't even see her race at all, seeing as how now I will have to enter Jax as well, which definitely means I'll have to run with him, so as to avoid him causing a 50+ kid pile up in the middle of Auditorium Shores.

When will I learn to think before I speak? When? WHEN????

(Have I mentioned the Theatre Camp I'm planning on running this summer??? It's like I'm reverting slowly back to high school with each new year. Soon I'll have permed hair, braces, no boobs, and an awkward way with boys. Yippeee!!!!!)

Easter, Easter Everywhere

2008-03-24T09:31:00.003-05:00

Yes, yes, I know Easter is over, but does it have to be?? I love it so much! Spring-y and pastel-y and happy and bright and bunnies and chocolate and dresses and chocolate and peeps and chocolate...

We had a wonderful weekend, marked most importantly by Shawn's confirmation into the Catholic Church! Mwahahahaha!! One down, 6 billion more to go!!! He's slipped into his Catholicism quite easily, both displaying feelings of guilt and dispersing guilt all at the same time, like when he guilted me into saying I would bring Jax with me to the 3 hour Easter Vigil service, then calling back 5 minutes later to tell me not to worry about it, he didn't want me to have to be stressed. IT HAS BEGUN!!!!!!

Though it was quite quite long, and aside from the fact that Jax leaked everywhere and had to be changed into his swim trucks (sweater vest + swim trunks= FIERCE!), the service itself was gorgeous, and celebrating with all the newly confirmed and baptised was so exciting. I especially enjoyed seeing our elderly priest walk out of the baptismal font in his wet, white robes, with his black shorts bleeding through. Very sexy. Lucky for him, he doesn't have to concern himself with such matters.

Alas, the party had to end, and we finally made it back to the lakehouse around midnight, where Jax had been keeping the rest of the family hostage until I arrived. (Midnight + Jaxson= FIERCER!!) Oh my God, he was awful! It was all I could do to bundle him in a bear hug, roll him onto the bed, and spoon him until he fell asleep. Why was I so late getting back? Shawn and I had to do Easter Bunny duty. Procrastination rocks!

Note to self: when purchasing pre-made Easter baskets, avoid doing so at WALMART. The Precious Moments Doll that came with Ryan's basket had measure markings on her face (slightly hidden under her bangs, but still), and all four of the race cars that came in Jax's basket are now broken. And so it goes.

All that aside, we had a lovely Easter with the fam, Ginger came up and ate the wonderful meal Menana had put together, and we all enjoyed watching Ninny attempt to give Ryan a swirly.

Who can blame me for not wanting all the Easter goodness to end??

The Oxymoron in the Living Room

2008-03-20T08:59:00.004-05:00

Yesterday, as I was pushing the kids on the swings, listening to them belt out their favorite songs (I'd been banned from singing along, thank you), I noticed a couple of kids on the other side of the park giggling. They were boys, and a few years older than Ryan, and so were probably laughing at the choice of songs, from "Best of Both Worlds" t o "Take Me Out To The Ballgame", to "Edelweiss".

Practically speaking, the songs weren't the "coolest" of tunes, but even as the kids were smirking, all I could think was, "I wonder if they realize that both of these nerdy-song-singing kids could kick their asses?" What? It's true. Just because Jax clings and Ryan's a girl, doesn't mean they can't also hold their own. Believe me, they can. I've got scars to prove it.

It's amazing to me how clingy and babyish Jax can be one minute, when the next it's likely he'll start kicking, biting, hitting or scratching. He can (and frequently has) bring a grown person to their knees. I've been fretful over this behavior for a while now (you may have heard) but I read an article yesterday that made me feel a little better. My favorite mention was that boys at Jax's age may not have their impulse control fully mastered, and so have trouble controlling their knee-jerk reactions. It makes it easier to breathe knowing that truly, one day this, too shall pass:

This is what Jax does during Time-Out or Naps. Rage and Lack of Impulse Control at its best.

And then there's Ryan, who is just as tough, if not tougher than her brother, but also much much more sensitive. We're very much in the throes of the "That's Not Fair" game, and it doesn't look like there will be a winner anytime soon.

Isn't it funny how wide-spread children's personality traits can be? Why do we insist on boxing them in? If my son wants to be a Hannah Montana singing, binky sucking NFL linebacker, who am I to stop him? Or if Ryan wants to go camping, perform in a musical, and karate-chop her dolls all once, why not let her have her cake and eat it, too? Maybe if I'd known that it was okay to put yourself in more than one box when I was younger, I wouldn't have been the depressive, angry, sorry-for-myself teenager I often was. Or maybe, that was just another box to check off and feel okay about.

Either way, as long as both kids can properly defend themselves (aka:kick ass), I don't care what songs they sing, what toys they play with, or how many pairs of my shoes they traipse around in all day.

Tease them. I dare you.

Recession Ready...or Not?

2008-03-18T08:20:00.007-05:00

Just yesterday I was thinking about how GREEN my grandparents were, before GREEN got cool. Not in the whole "electric car/organic everything/save the whales kind of way, but in the "Hi, we were raised in the Depression" way.

You know the stories: how the only thing they would get at Christmas was an orange, how they walked everywhere (or in Pappy's case, drove the school bus), and the only things they ever wore were hand-me-downs. And if the sun was shining through the windows, lights were off. Period.

I vividly remember seeing old cartons re-used as something else, from plant pots to button-boxes. They always had their vegetable garden going, and always ate what they grew. They never drove somewhere they could walk, and spent most of their time gardening, sewing, or doing Home Maintenance. I don't think my Honey ever bought a "prepared meal" -- everything was scratch, and everything was local -- no fancy-pants pineapples here, thank you very much. They ate what was in season, they mended clothes (rather than tossing), and they never saw a piece of trash they didn't turn into something useful.

I used to think they were just penny-pinching fools, but now that I'm older and a millimeter wiser, I understand the importance of their way of life. While they were just living by the creed, "use what you have", they were also doing wonderful things for the environment. Why buy lots of harsh cleaning agents when baking soda works just as well for a fraction of the price? Why spend money on other people's tomatoes when you can grow them yourself? Why throw away that stained tablecloth when you could turn it into a lovely doilie? (Okay, I stole the last one from Friends, but you get the idea.)

This Aha! moment came to me yesterday as I was making (and then storing) a great big pot of Italian Tomato Meat Sauce, using old mason jars that I'd been saving for just such a purpose. Then, as I was washing out the non-recyclable carton of Ricotta cheese I used for the lasagna I made, I realized what a great container it would make to store all those coffee grounds that I'm going to be using my garden this season. You know, the vegetable/flower garden I'm planting with my MIL. The one with all the cucumbers, tomatoes, squash, cantaloupe, lilies, forget-me-nots, jasmine, honeysuckle, etc... The one for which I'm using all my old soup cans and eggshells to start the seedlings in my perpetually crowded, but sooo comforting kitchen.

As far as saving money goes, not only did their frugal tactics help at home, they also put them to great use when shopping. They took their time, clipped coupons, searched clearance sales, and frequented quite a few pawn shops. So while they may not have always had the newest, best products on the market, they also knew what they needed and what they didn't need -- and didn't waste their money on things that weren't necessary, so that they'd have money for the things that were.

I love new shiny pretty things as much as the next Martha, but what my Aha! moment taught me was that I'd much rather have the nice, pretty things that matter, rather than the ones that don't. I'd much rather have a beautiful, fruitful garden, a fridge full of healthy foods, and a home that is both safe and sound. It doesn't mean we should all start dumpster diving or anything, but why not take a note from the elderly in our lives? Why not try out one or two of these tricks on your own? Amazingly enough, I received an email from Tree Hugger that was about just that : being Recession Ready and Green at the same time.

**(If you'd like me to forward it to you, just leave a comment!)

"But what about clutter, Amy?" you may be wondering. Uggh. Clutter. The nastiest of all the 7-letter words, clutter is such a problem in our society today, I don't blame anyone for wanting to throw things away, just to get some breathing space. But why throw when you can give? Pass your unused things on to a local charity, or sign up for your local freecycle group. We do both those things, and it's made such a difference in what we no longer send to our landfills! Also, if you're afraid of becoming a packrat, here's another idea: STOP SHOPPING FOR THINGS YOU DON'T NEED!!! Take a good look at what you've got, and I'll bet you'll realize that you need a lot less than you'd thought.

When you do find yourself in need (which we all do at some point), consider using those same giving outlets as your shopping base -- I've received a ton of wonderful things from freecycle (including all the seeds for my new garden)-- Goodwill has some decent clothes (especially for kids), and who needs a bookstore when you've got a library??? The point is, there are a plethora of alternative-shopping outlets available to you, if you'll take the time to look. Why buy new when you don't have to??

If you're interested in learning more, click on some of the links above, and don't forget about the buttons on the left -- they may say"Swap" but that's just another term for RECYCLE!!!

I know I've climbed pretty high up there on my soapbox today, but I wouldn't lecture if I didn't care. **Commence eyerolling NOW** As an appeaser, I've included a couple of pics from this past month for you to peruse. Truce??

Well, hello, Ryan!

"Daddy Monster" dropped in for a visit...

...and so did "Monster Jax"...

Dear Ryan,

2008-03-13T20:53:00.003-05:00

dear dear dear Ryan....there is a sink full of dishes, a living room covered in foam packing peanuts, a load of ironing and a screaming 3 yr old to tend to, but I wanted to take a moment and record for posterity just how excited you have been to turn 6.

All month long, it's been "birthday this and birthday that" with you, and today alone you reminded me 47 times that tomorrow is your birthday, the "Big Day" and that you will indeed be 6 years old.

Aside from the irritating repetition of it all, I dread hearing you say that over and over, mostly because I can still remember this exact night 6 years ago when Ninny and I sat up in our apartment waiting for Daddy to come home from his 2nd job, fluttering with nervous energy and anxiety at what awaited me the next day -- what awaited all of us. How did 6 years go by in the wink of your big blue eyes?

To put it mildly, I was scared shitless. Part of me was wondering how much longer you could stay in without damaging anything, and part of me wanted it to be over yesterday. No part of me didn't want you -- I just was a little concerned about all the pushing and screaming and tearing flesh I'd heard so much about. Luckily, your entry into this world was a snap -- it was the year following that sent me around the bend a time or two.

But, oh when you came out, you took my breath away. As Menana said, you were perfect. Every inch of your tiny body was perfectly perfect, and even though you resisted my breasts as much as I once did (that's a story for another time), it was clear that we were already bonded, like it or not.

I cannot tell you the nights I've laid awake crying just because of you. Not for sad or bad reasons, but just because of the pure wonder and joy of Ryan Elizabeth York. I'm always aware of the times I fail you, and I know I make you more than aware of the times you don't perform up to my expectations, but I hope you also know that you are the most perfect gift I've ever received (well, you and your brother -- although right now, a teeny more you than him) and there is no one else I would have wanted to make me a Mommy.

Daddy loves you, too, but he's not half as eloquent as I am, so you'll just have to take my word for it. Happy Birthday, you perfectly imperfect blaze of blonde attitude and brilliant energy.

You are truly Divine.

Lola Has Left The Building

2008-03-12T12:49:00.007-05:00

Bless her shit-eating lil' heart. She is no longer a member of our immediate family, but has found safe, friendly shelter just a few miles away at Ginger's house! (Thanks again, MIL!)

In our family's never-ending journey to "letting go", we decided it was time that she went, and she very happily did!! She loves Ginger and Ginger's dog Nalu, plus no one there will kick her, pull her tail, or try to ride her like a horse (except when we visit, that is). Alas, no one there wears diapers, either, so it looks like she will have to forego the feces-portion of her diet for a while (except when we visit, that is).

And the visiting will commence very soon. Very very soon. Especially since this whole "letting go" bit was really more Mommy and Daddy-fueled, the kids being against it 100%. That's the thing about parenthood, though. You may be the ones having to clean up the poo and lose sleep every single night, but in exchange you get to make all the decisions.

Doesn't seem like a very fair trade, does it? I didn't think so either, but I suppose I had it coming, seeing as how I spent the majority of my pre-teen and teenage years yearning to be the decision-maker, grinding my teeth at the TOTALLY UNFAIR decisions my parents made.

What an idiot.

Anyway, in an adieu to Lola, I've compiled some of her more infamous moments below. Read, laugh, cry, gag, and thank the stars above that I didn't send her YOUR way!! (I'm talking to You, Mom & Dad!!)

"I Was THIS Close"

"Busy, Busy"

"Nutshell"

"FAST...easy!"

"Houston, We Have a Penny"

2008-03-11T10:33:00.003-05:00

I won't go into all the dirty discovery details, but let me just say this: There better be a special spot in Heaven for all the moms who have had to dig through their children's poop, not once but multiple times. It better smell like roses, be feces-free, and include lots and lots of manicures.

Mom On-Demand

2008-03-08T08:00:00.010-06:00

Hello, universe. I'd like to take a moment to stop and Thank You for the amazing blessings you have bestowed upon me, in the forms of my husband and children, my wordly belongings, my fully-functioning body and mind, and my excretion-eating dog.

I'd love to be able to fully show you, Universe, how grateful I truly am, by being able to honor each of those blessings to the fullest extent possible. Therefore, I'm asking for a favor. Could you please shower your energy over me and help me to do/obtain all of the following? (I've broken them down into sub-categories/phases and will be delivering them to you in installments, so as not to overwhelm you all at once. I'm very considerate that way, see?)

Phase 1:

Governess Godess

*Instill me with the patient, nurturing traits of Mary Poppins. Please help me to remember to sing as we clean, to take day-long walks in the park with my charges and dance on rooftops, and if you could give me that snap-clean magic trick thing that would be awesome. (P.S. I'm already a step-up with my giant carpet-bag-like purse, but if you could slip me a talking Bird Umbrella that flies, that'd be great.)

*I'd also like to possess the amazing clarity, detachedness and level-handed ease with which Jo-Jo the SuperNanny handles each and every decision concerning children. I'd like to be able to, in a split-second, instinctively know which tool to use for discipline: Naughty Chair, Step, or Spot? I'd also be very grateful if you could grant me the ability to stay calm and rational with my raging 3 yr old at 2:30 in the morning, for the 5th time that night. Give me the endurance to scratch his back until he falls asleep every night, and the tenacity to keep silently putting him back in his bed until he magically lulls himself to sleep, regardless of whatever chore/job/task I'm in the middle of performing. A British Accent would nice, too, but I don't want to be too demanding or anything...

* Any speck of ethereal quality and naive positivity you could send my way (ala Maria Von Trapp) would really be a blessing. I'm told that at one time I used to possess the same naivete, so hopefully that won't be too hard to grant. Also, she sings really pretty and is awesome at making up little performances for children (ie: Puppet Show; So Long, Farewell, Do-Re-Mi; etc). I do remember having done similar things like this in a previous life, so, again, I'm hoping that'll be an easy one for you. We all know I can't pull off her hairdo, but I don't think it's too much to ask to let me play the guitar like her and be able to make clothes out of curtains. I'm also asking for the ability to know exactly what to say to calm unruly children. (It'd also be lovely to be able to walk across Europe with my husband and kids.)

Thanks for your consideration. I'll let you marinate on this wish list for a while, but check back soon for my next wish Phase: Beaming Bride

It's a government conspiracy, I tell you

2008-03-07T19:55:00.006-06:00

We had a litttle accident at home today which prompted Shawn to do an online search. Here's what he found. I especially like this part:

"Pennies minted before 1982, which are 95 per cent copper and 5 per cent zinc, showed no erosion. However, those minted after 1982, which are nearly all zinc, with a thin copper plating, began eroding immediately. By the second day, they had holes in them. The researchers found the zinc in the coins reacted with the acid to form hydrogen gas and zinc chloride. The reaction, similar to the chemical process that occurs in car batteries, can erode the stomach lining, causing an ulcer."

Damn, I knew I should've checked the date on that penny before Jax ingested it this afternoon.

A New Earth

2008-03-05T12:56:00.003-06:00

Please, please, please!! PICK UP THIS BOOK. READ THROUGH CHAPTER 2. If you hate it, put it down, if you love it -- PASS IT ON!!!!

How we make time fly

2008-03-03T08:14:00.003-06:00

Has it really been a week since I last posted? What? How could I have gone so long and not even noticed? What have I been doing????

Oh yeah. Lots of quality time spent clicking pics of the kids doing prat falls. Watch out 1930's Vaudeville -- here come the Yorks.

I really think she's nailed "the look".

And what of Jax? All beginning and end, no middle. Just like a man.

So, what did you do last week????

Without Further Ado...

2008-02-25T08:50:00.005-06:00

I give you...PICTURES FROM HALLOWEEN!!! Woohoo! Lalo found my camera this weekend -- apparently she'd thought it was her's, took it home, and it's been sitting on her counter ever since. Yay! All is not lost!!

And since it's been mentioned that "no one wants to read about your personal enlightenment yadayadayada, Amy -- we come here for the kids," I will get right to the point and post those pics.....NOW.

Jax, as "Ghetto Rocket" from Little Einstein's.

Ryan, as Elphaba (Wicked Witch of the West) -- the School Girl Years.

And with her Daddy...

...Maximus!

I'd show you my costume, but with all the time it took me to create THEIR costumes, mine fell a little short. In other words, you could see the pic, but then I'd have to kill you. Don't ask me why.

You may say that I'm a dreamer...but I'm not the ONLY ONE!!!

2008-02-23T22:49:00.004-06:00

I am dangerously close to O.D.ing with the buttons to my left, but I just had to add the link for idealist.org.

I just found out about it and am so excited! It's a project of Action Without Borders, and I think it's all that and a bag of chips! (cheetos, if you must know). This is what I have been wanting to find for so long, and never even knew it existed! Isn't it fantastic when that happens?

I stumbled upon it while researching jobs and volunteer opportunities in Costa Rica, pleasantly imagining my family selling our worldly possessions and heading down there to experience more of the world and help others in need, and BAM! I'm hit with THIS.

This internet thing is really starting to pay off.

Potty Train-athalon 2008

2008-02-20T16:26:00.005-06:00

Am training for the Danskin in June. Using the term "training" severely loosely, of course.

In honor of that, and mostly because I woke up to a house, garage, and car all without diapers this morning. Yes, I checked.

Brilliant idea came to me as I was rifling for magical self-appearing diaper in Jax's top drawer when I came across a pair of Thomas underpants so graciously given to me by my (sniff,sniff) long-distance partner in crime (hey ang.). My brain went, "Why not?" and Jax took one look at Thomas and knocked over the couch, coffee table and Lola in his mad dash to retrieve them from me.

So we're potty-training.

As organic as that. No calenders, no schedules, just, hey, mommy didn't get enough diapers at the store -- wanna try something new? Normally I would have quaked at the idea of the mess, but I'm dealing with Dog Doo left and right, so what's a little human fecal matter thrown in?

4 pee incidents and one ball-o-poo later and it's 4:30 pm, have just left Walgreens with pull-ups in hand, breathing fragrant sigh of relief.

Before the yelling commences, no I am not giving up or sloughing my duties as #1 Follow-thruer. You didn't get the memo? It's my new thing. Following through. Should be very reassuring for those I currently do volunteer work/projects for. Anyway, as it says above, this is a Train-athalon.

Pacing is essential.

Me & My Girl

2008-02-19T19:21:00.004-06:00

Ryn just handed me a card. It's pretty good. Here, I'll show you:

"If you give a mommy a hug..."

"She's going to want a kiss."

This, delivered shortly after having been fanagled into letting them watch another episode of Scooby Doo and commenting, "You guys really have me wrapped round your finger, huh?"

"Yep," said Ryan, holding up her pinky and pointing to a miniscule spot between the folds of skin on her knuckle. "See? That's you, right there."

The View from Up Here

2008-02-18T09:19:00.002-06:00

We've reached the mountain top with Jaxson, and it feels FABULOUS!!!

It's like all this time we've been clawing and dragging each other where we wanted to be, unable to see where we were going. Then we let go -- of our expectations, of our demands, and we listened for what we couldn't see. We stopped everything and just payed attention.

And just like that, the clouds cleared and we saw the peak and slowly we've been working together to reach the top. Jax is sleeping through the night again, and although he still has terrible tantrums that include much sratching and more hair-pulling, it's easier to see what triggers them and how to avoid doing so.

I'm certain that there is another valley waiting for us, but I know now that the trials create the triumphs, if we can learn to let them.

We're still wading through the mud with Ryan -- lots of "I hate's", pouting, "No fair's!" and all that goodness, but she's been more conditioned to this behavior by us than Jax has, so our journey with her will take little longer, but I know it will be worth the wait.

The New CSI: Diaper Duty

2008-02-16T11:52:00.004-06:00

I am dying over here trying to figure out the cause of my child's emerald green poo.

It's not often that I don't know what exactly that shit is that's coming out of his butt (what with all the time I spend down there). Corn? Check. Hot dogs? God help me, yes. Gum? Yep. Grapes? Duh.

But today I was finally stumped by the Stool Fairy when I undid the diaper and found myself staring at The Golly Green Giant Poo. Quickly I shuffled through my meal catalog from the past 24 hours and nowhere do I have filed, "Four Leaf Clovers". There's lots of hot dogs, cheese, carrots, pizza,.... huh....I should really think about stepping it up a little more on the food standards around here...

I digress.

My only possible guess could be that it's a weird color reaction to the Blue Corn Tortilla chips...that mixed with the inherent lemon-lime greeness of his Sprite.

Love, Marriage and a Baby Carriage

2008-02-14T08:09:00.006-06:00

Had a dream last night that I was preggers...and you know what?? I liked it!

AAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Happy Valentine's Day from my heart to your's!!

(NOT for little ears. Or really old ears. Or "Bossy" ears. You know what? Just skip it altogether...)

No one like Ninny!!

2008-02-13T16:23:00.004-06:00

HAPPY BIRTHDAY NINNY!! Technically, her birthday was yesterday, and no I didn't forget; as a matter of fact, I cooked up her Fave Dinner, by request, the kids picked out an Oreo birthday cake, we all talked about how much we love her, took turns making atrocious faces at each other, and then Jax started shking his booty, yelling, "Spank it Daddy! Spank it!"

That's just how we roll.

I am late on this post, though, but had to follow through none-the-less because of 3 reasons.

#1: That's me (aka "Skeletor") on the left and she (aka "Dimples") on the right.

#2: Here's Ninny just seconds later in a straddle-hold quite similar to the one I use to give Jax his inhaler treatment.

#3: And just because I'd hate for Lea Ann to feel left out...

In case you're wondering which one is me, I'd be the Albino in the middle missing facial features altogether.

Hppy Birthday Ninn!!!

Full Circle

2008-02-11T15:23:00.000-06:00

I've finally realized why, as an adolescent, I took such strange pleasure in showing off my "trick" (for lack of better word... hang on -- oddity, maybe??) which involved me pulling wads of my own hair out of my head without even a flinch.

The only real appeal was the shock on other's faces, and as I got older, I didn't so much need to perform the trick to get the desired response (I'd found bigger, better ways to shock by then), so I finally gave up my circus side-show act.

And as with most of the things I did when I was younger, I've found myself wondering, "why??" over the years: "Why was I able to accomplish such a feat in the first place?" ; "Why did I have such an affinity for displaying this "talent"? ; "Why did no one ever have me committed??"

Finally, after all these years, I have my answers. Had I never been able to yank handfuls of hair from my head without crying, bleeding, or going blind, had I never showed off my abilities to the point of boredom, had I actually been committed for my strange, strange ways, then I never would have been able to survive Jax's recent meltdowns in public, which involve me losing tufts of hair coiled around his fingers in front of masses of people. If this were not already a tired old trick, I would not have been able to continue my shopping expedition this morning with Jax hanging from his tether to my head, or been able to remain calm and level-headed (badumbum, ching!) as all those people watched in horror.

And had I been committed all those years go? Well, my friends, I never would have been able to share this story with you. And that, I'm sure, would have really been a shame.

(Now if only I'd been blessed with indestructable facial tissue able to withstand wrinkles, lines, and angry toddler scratches...)

This is much better

2008-02-07T09:28:00.001-06:00

Right. So I was all ready to sit down and detail the wretched sick day I spent with Jax yesterday -- the fevers, the wheezing, the doctor drama (Binky is BACK!! Doc uses lame excuse to show off her iPhone, while instructing me on the correct vise grip to use on Jax when administering treatment with his new inhaler), the naps at 2 and at 4 and at 6. The fasting. Oh, the fasting.

But just as I sat down to type, Jax zeroed in on my location, began begging for a "peabutter spoon", crawled onto the back of my chair, slid head-first down my back and declared: "I see you butt! I see you butt!.... You butt stink!!"

He's feeling much better today, thanks.

FAST...easy!

2008-02-06T07:38:00.000-06:00

Having problems fasting? Come on over to OUR house!! I've developed a three-pronged plan to ease the pain of fasting on this beautiful Ash Wednesday...follow me!

1. First, I'd like to introduce you to my projectile-vomitting son, who has opted to up-chuck during the middle of the night over the past two days, and although the actual regurgitation took place hours ago, there is still plenty of DNA remains soaked into the carpet to help suppress your appetite. And if that doesn't work, ask me to tell you about how as soon as the puke hit the floor, Lola was right there to start licking it up. (See, I told you this would be easy!)

2. It's pretty hard to eat when there's no food in the house, unless you think a snack of peanut butter and ground flaxseed mixed with syrup would be a tasty treat. Actually...

3. And even if there were an abundance of food, there are no clean dishes or cookware to eat or cook with! It just goes to show, if you wait long enough, what initially appears to be a fault can eventually turn into blessing!!

Now go in peace to love and serve the Lord. Amen.

Super Fat Tuesday

2008-02-05T10:49:00.000-06:00

To you and you and YOU!! Have a blast voting (if my state was holding their primary, I'd be out supporting CHANGE), and gobble up all the decadent food and drink available -- we've got a long 40 days ahead of us!!

I haven't decided what I'm giving up for Lent yet, but I'm thinking it will be something along the lines of the concept of "I". I'd like to be able to let go of my association with my ego, that wild & crazy guy that's wreaked havoc on my soul for so many years.

Giving up "I" isn't as easy as you might think -- all things associated with "I" must go as well -- like "Mine, Me, My, Myself..." And just like my favorite 2 yr old knows, the hardest of those to release will be MINE.

But what wonderful results will surely be waiting around that bend -- when greed is gone, I won't be afraid, I won't be jealous, I won't hold tightly to those things that mean nothing to my being. And should I fail? Ahh, therein lies the greatness and ultimate purpose of this season of cleansing -- the value is in the effort; the knowledge that something fundamental needs to change, and that ultimately "I" am not the change -- He is. Just that reminder alone is a step in a better direction.

Too heavy? Let me put it this way: For the next 40 days, I'm going to try really really hard not to get mad at the kids when they barf on MY favorite pillow (like Jax last night), to not feel simmering irritation when Shawn leaves his clothes for ME to pick up, to not curse the driver at the intersection who takes his turn before me when clearly it's MINE, to not want to shoot daggers at those who think that everything I have just said is wrong, stupid, or naive.

Even when that person is Me, Myself and I.

Knockin' On Heaven's Door

2008-02-04T07:12:00.000-06:00

We lost Jax yesterday. About 5 whole minutes unaccounted for, which to us felt like 5 hours.

He snuck out of the house and high-tailed it down the street to his friend's place, where Shawn found him sitting and waiting. I don't think it was until I realized he really wasn't hiding in his room, in the backyard, or in his favorite spot -- amongst my purses in my closet -- that I really started worrying. I take for granted the fact that just because I can't see or hear him doesn't mean he's not there, that just because he's not within my arm's grasp doesn't mean I can't reach him.

And then I thought of the comments I made earlier in the week about how maybe God had made a mistake -- had handed him over to the wrong Mommy, because surely I don't have the patience or energy for an explosion of his magnitude. And as those comments played across my mind, I immediately began the bargaining process we all go through when we're desperate -- "please, God, I'll never doubt you again if you'll help me find him safe...please, God, I'll raise myself up to meet his needs, rather than try to bring him down to match my carefully carved comfort zone....please, God, I'll stop watching the Girls Next Door AND Real Housewives of OC AND The Hills if you'll just make this STOP!!!" Or something like that.

And, as with all Heavenly Haggles, it was pointless, because the Creator is not a peddler of plea bargains. But still, something moved within me, and even if only until the next time he smears his fecal matter all over the walls, breaks a valuable memento, or just won't. stop.hitting, I will try to remember, as Shawn says, that family is not an obligation -- it's an opportunity.

And I will hold both my babies a little closer, a little longer; I will look at my job as a mother as the heaven-sent calling it is; I will use my struggles, however slight or significant, to help me cross the unseen ravines that are waiting for me somewhere ahead, and I will always keep with me one of the best quotes I've heard in a long time, from "Friday Night Lights" of all places:

When discussing the issue of finding childcare for their infant daughter, Coach Taylor tells his wife, "Let me tell you something -- that's not our burden; it's our gift."

Now let's go kick some cute high school football butt!! Oh, wait -- wrong kind of pep talk, but you get the idea....

Life's What You Make It, or Sweet Nibletts, What Have We Done???

2008-02-02T07:36:00.000-06:00

Once again, I am astounded by our stupidity as parents.

Who thought buying Hannah Montana 3D movie tickets for a 5 year old would be a good idea?

Who thought sitting in line amongst not-even-tweens for an hour would be fun?

Who thought I should be the one to chapperone??

Whomever the culprit, they should be hung by their toenails and made to listen to hundreds of screaming grade-schoolers for 2 hours. While wearing 3D glasses over their eyeglasses, like the dork I was last night.

Oh yeah, baby. We went. We saw. We sang. We peed. A lot. 6 trips to the potty, to be exact.

The movie itself was fun, Ry and her friends were great and enjoyed themselves thoroughly, until about 3/4 of the way through when I looked over and one was slumped sideways, head held up by a limp arm, one had her head tilted back, mouth gaping, and the other was using my arm as a pillow. Reminded me of the time I went to see GnR and Metallica in high school and ended up sleeping through Metallica. I'm so proud of myself and my dorky past. And present.

And dorky though I may be, at least I wasn't one of the ridiculously obnoxious moms who were either:
A) dressed exactly like their daughters;
B) yelling and screaming, "Hannah!Hannah!" and literally woo-hooing when the Jonas Brothers appeared;
C) throwing popcorn at moviegoers in front of them and filming the entire movie on their cell phones.

Ladies, ladies, ladies. This is not 1982. We are no longer young and nubile. Scrunchies are NOT in, and neither are leggings for anyone who weighs over 200 pounds. (You know who you are). Popcorn throwing was never cool, and you should know what a pain in the ass it is to clean up other people's messes, if you are even close to doing your job properly, which by the looks of the way your daughter was yelling at you and spitting her popcorn, you most likely are not. I'm not judging, I'm just sayin'... Also? I understand you only want the best for your child, but no amount of complaining to management is going to make the movie "more 3D". Yes, there were spots when we had to suffer through Miley in 2D form, but it's Miley Cyrus -- how horrible can she be in any dimension, really?

I will say, however, that regardless of how entertaining the movie was, my favorite part was watching the chubby 9 yr old boy dancing his heart out in the aisle next to me, complete with microphone, spin-and-jump moves, ample booty shaking, finger-snapping and LOTS of head-tossing. I have high hopes for his future as a Selena impersonator or the next member of Menudo.

But, alas, the evening was not actually about me, and seeing as how every time I turned to watch my daughter, she was singing, smiling, or staring in awe (save that one moment she slipped into unconsciousness), I suppose the night was a resounding success, even if I did have to suffer through it with not even a ounce of alcohol or mind-altering drugs. I can just smell that MOTY award coming my way...

I lecture because I love...

2008-02-01T08:44:00.000-06:00

YOU. All of you. So listen up!!

Turns out, using hot tap water to cook with or drink is another easy way to consume...LEAD!!!

Egads! I, for one, need nothing more added to my life to encourage mental health problems, nor do my babies who surely have inherited enough of their own.

Check out all the nasty details here.

I, for one, will be using cold cold water to make this for my sick kiddo who is staying home from school today with a 103 degree fever.

Sick on what she has dubbed "the greatest day of my life" (read: Hannah Montana 3d Movie Day).

Oh Murphy, you skanky whore -- you and your Law have struck AGAIN!!!!

I'd yell, but she has a point...

2008-01-30T21:17:00.000-06:00

Me: "I saw _____ in the office this afternoon. Did he get in trouble in class or something?"

Her: "Yeah."

Me: "What'd he do?"

Her: "It's not really any of your business, is it?"

Me: "Umm, well, hmmppff....whatever."

Round Rock, TX: The NEW Melting Pot

2008-01-29T21:26:00.000-06:00

Who knew?? Who would have thought that a little old city on the outskirts of Austin would be such a wonderful compilation of people from all ethnicities, backgrounds, and cultures?? I mean, this is Texas, y'all!

Kidding aside, I was so impressed by our elementary school's talent show this past week. Not only did the kids display wonderful talents (like our own Ryan, who boldly sang the "Months of the Year" song), but they brought so much of the world right into our laps.

There were classical Indian dances, Tae Kwan Do and Kung Fu forms, a Martin Luther King, Jr. dramatization of his "I Have A Dream" speech, piano pieces as simple as "Twinkle, Twinkle" and as complex as Mozart, lots of unbelievable violin solos, and so much more.

And not one of these kids was over the age of 11. I'm so glad that my kids are coming of age in a time and a place where they are exposed to so many different cultures in such an easy, casual manner. It makes me so hopeful for what their world will be like when we are gone.

Although, judging by the way Jax is chasing Lola around the kitchen while banging himself on the head with an empty coke bottle, I'm not gonna hold my breath.

Macho Man Say What??

2008-01-26T20:31:00.000-06:00

Me: "Babe, do you think if we push Ryan as hard at singing and dancing and acting as we're gonna push Jax at sports, that she'll be the next Beyonce?"

Shawn: "She can't sing like Beyonce."

Me: "Well, she's not gonna be Beyonce, she's not gonna be R&B. She's gonna do it her way. If Avril Levigne and Britney Spears and Miley Cyrus can do it, why not Ryan?"

Shawn: "I dunno, Aim, Miley Cyrus can sing. I mean, she is good. You should really listen to her sometime."

I'm THIS CLOSE to busting a cap in his ass

2008-01-26T17:11:00.000-06:00

Jax, Jax, Jax.

This child is an amazing collaboration of all things whimsical, charming and energetic. And I'm ready to kill him. Or give him away. Or just runaway, screaming banshee, pulling-my-hair-out stark-naked-running.

Did I tell you we took away the binky a week ago? Did I tell you it's more He (as in Shawn) than We, and that Me is very ready to give it back???? Well, I am. No surprise there -- I have so much lacking in the discipline/willpower department, whereas Shawn is the Hitler of Stick-with-it-ness. Of course he doesn't eat breathe and drink Jax 24/7 the way I do, but he does suffer, and yet, still he will.not.budge. So in that regard, I suppose the title could refer to him as well.

My keen parenting eye has noticed that lately the majority of Jax's Major Meltdowns occur when he's tired but refuses to admit it. Were the binky still in the picture, nap and bed time would be a wonderful, peaceful time in our house, but now that we've abolished it and all it's kind, nap and bed time are the bane of my existence.

Simply put, there is no sleep. Especially when Ryan is around. Just that little extra bit of distraction fuels his fire, giving him longer, more prolific tantrums than normal, the kind that leave me sobbing in a heap on the floor while he's banging his everything on the wall of the room in which I'm holding him prisoner.

In times like these, where else is a desperate mother to turn? Why, to everyone's fave Brit, Supernanny. I was so excited this week to see that one of the children she was helping had trouble going to bed and staying in bed at night, and quickly put her technique to work. It took some time, but by 11:30 on Wednesday night, Jax was sound asleep in his bed.

Until 2 am when he awoke in a fit resembling a Night Terror and I went to work again trying be firm, but gentle, with an English lilt to boot.

Didn't work. Maybe because by 3 am I was ready to give up, maybe because he's the spawn of Satan. Either way, once again, no one in our family is sleeping, and as much as I'm told to "ride it out" and that it's "just a phase", when you're severely sleep deprived trying to remain the only rational (conscious) human being in the house is a little like trying to charm a snake with a bowl of cheerios.

Oh how I wish I had the stamina of those irritating folks who live by the motto, "I'll sleep when I'm dead," rather than feeling like a member of the Walking Dead.

Not only that, but my calm, rational approaches to these bouts of rage have left me with war wounds all over my hands, arms and face. (Yes, I cut his nails, but not to the point that they bleed, which is how short they'd have to be to not be considered deadly weapons.) Nothing like having miniature paper-cut like scars all over your dry, cracking, worn hands in the middle of January. You want birth control? Stick your face and hands in shards of glass, shake 'em around a bit, and that's what it's like having a toddler boy. Planned Parenting 101.

Just today, after Jax threw one of his yelling, kicking, scratching fits (it was naptime) while visiting my mom, she commented, "Remember how you used to say you wanted 5 boys?"

"Oh, I got my 5 boys. God just got all economical on me and rolled them up into one."

And now they're pissed and taking it out on me.

Swapa Swapa Swapa

2008-01-24T10:20:00.000-06:00

Links and Buttons and Icons, Oh MY!!

You may have noticed the new buttons I've added to the left. If you do nothing else today, click on at least ONE of them!!!

I'm pretty new to SwapStyle, but from all the buzz I've heard, it's lookin' as good as it sounds!

The Swapa-sites (paperback, cd, dvd) are all sister sites that I've belonged to for a while now -- SwapaDVD is the newest one. I cannot say enough good things about these sites! I've gotten so many great books, cd's, dvd's -- from The Kite Runner and The Curious Incident of the Dog In the Night-Time to KT Tunstall and Gwen Stefani, and even Freaky Friday, Talladega Nights, Almost Famous, The Best of Percy, and a Yoga dvd I'm going to try out later today. I know I've mentioned the Swapa-sites before, but now that the GREEN MOVEMENT is catching on like, well, Global Warming, I thought why not remind my readers of other different ways to go green??

Stop buying new, stop paying exorbitant retail prices, start removing your footprints on the planet!! Save money, get great stuff, and clean out your clutter all at once!

...and if you've got a few extra minutes, check out some of the books and cd's I've got just waiting to be swapped -- maybe you'll want one, or maybe you'll just enjoy laughing at some of my unfortunate media purchases...

Chunkyrhino Discipline

2008-01-23T15:48:00.000-06:00

Isn't is absolutely fabulous when a teacher you've never met escorts your child to the car to inform you that she had to write her up for sticking her fingers in another kid's food and making a mess? And don't you just love that feeling that wells up as the teacher admonishes you to "talk to her about not touching other kid's food"?

Me too! Thank goodness I got to experience it this afternoon -- it's clearly been too long since my child's discipline problems have been brought to my attention by a teacher -- I mean, who wants to wait 3 whole days???

Bless her heart. She's only 5, for the Love of Licorice. And she's a girl. You know how they just wanna have fun and all. Duh.

According to Ry, the little boy MADE her stick her finger in his peanut butter, using what I can only imagine is a new and improved Ry Remote, one of which I would love to get my hands on. Whether or not this was truly the case is the least of the issues, but the fact that I'm in doubt over her story? That feels a little like ripping my toenails off very slowly, then taking a dip in a nice citrus salt bath.

How desperately I wish for the all-knowing power of those tv moms who can just tell from a mere look whether or not their mischievous child is lying. Do they have special glasses? Are the taking extra Vitamin A?

I've been foiled twice lately by my misguided (?) belief in my daughter's word -- the latest event involved her drawing all over the walls, toilet, floor and hall closet and blaming it on her brother. (No idea where she got that...) Thank God she has a logically thinking, reasonable father who refrains from jumping to conclusions.

But that's neither here nor there.

So we're in the car, I'm soaking up all the wonderful, juicy emotions floating around in the air, and I explain to Ryan that even if the kid did tell her to stick her finger in his food, he is not in charge of her actions. Neither am I. Neither is her teacher. It's just Ryan, the one and only, steering this runaway bus, and all the directions and GPS systems given by Mommy and Daddy and Teacher and Barney and God won't lead her down the right path if she doesn't turn them on and follow the annoying voice. Simply put, it's a bout making, say it with me now, 'Good Choices'.

" _____ doesn't make the rules, Ryan. You know that you're not supposed to touch other people's food. That's a school rule. Not a ____ rule. He doesn't get to say when you have to follow the rules. He didn't make them, the school did. And you know that. You did not make a good choice."

"But who made them first?"

"What?"

"Who made the school rules first?"

"The school did, Ryan."

" Hang on -- the school can talk?"

And lecture time is officially over...