Not That I'm Complaining...

Holy Mary Moo-Cow, things have been intense around here lately! So much going on, so many things working full speed, like Shawn, the man of my dreams with whom I've not been able to sit and talk to (uninterrupted) in a week.

The one thing NOT working? Our computer. Guess who broke it? (Ryhmes with TAX). I'm actually on Shawn's right now, typing this at 12:15 am because I had to wait for him to finish working before I could get on. It's amazing how tied a SAHM can become to her computer. Actually, I guess WAHM would be the more appropriate term now -- I am reeling in excitement over the build of our cheeky little chunkyretail business. I've had such wonderful feedback and reception -- thanks so much!!

That aside, I'm also rockin' with Mommy and Me, preparing for the VIP events and pulling everything together. Normally I'd procrastinate, but seeing as how the sale is March 24-25 and I'll be in New York the 15-18 (conquering my fear of hailing a cab), celebrating Ryan's 5th birthday on the 14th, traveling to Beaumont to visit my grandparents the weekend of the 9th, and throwing Ryan and her friend a co-party on the 3rd, as well as fulfilling my Room Rep responsibilities by organizing Ryan's teacher's birthday gift AND entering my own Mommy and Me sale items online, it's probably smarter to do what I can now.

On top of all that, there are those 2 little people who keep hanging around here, begging for food and asking me to take them places. Jax has been just as destructive as ever, but strangely sweet, and Ryan is just getting over a weekend fever. My mom and Ninny and I took her to see the Lion King yesterday, and the poor thing literally suffered through it. All ended well, though, and she even managed to get me so caught up in all the theatrical excitement that I'm fairly certain I may have promised her I'd build her a puppet theatre in her tree house. Yep, that sounds about right.

As for Shawn, seeing as how I really never do see him anymore, the most I can do for him lately is let him sleep when he can, feed him well, and stay quiet while he's working at home.

Two out of three's okay, yeah?

I have cute pics I'd love to show off, but it'll have to wait till tomorrow -- the usb cord is attached to the Piece of Crap (hereby known as "PC") upstairs, and I was too cheap to buy a memory card for the camera.

Look at it this way: it'll give you a reason to come back.

Where's Hitchcock When You Need Him??

I could have really used his directing abilities today. It was a 2007 re-make of The Birds right here in our very own home...

The kid's bathroom is a no-man's land in our house. Mainly because that's where I stash Jax's dirty diapers until trash day. The weather has been absolutely lovely lately, so I've been leaving the bathroom window up in order to release some of the odor. (Don't bother bringing up Diaper Genie -- he and I don't get along.)

Anyway, their bathroom is upstairs, and for some reason it is a favorite hangout for the neighborhood birds. I don't know what type they are but they're small and they peck out the window screen so that now we have a big giant window-wide hole in the screen, one just big enough for them to fly through should the owner of the house decide to , umm, open the window to let in a little fresh air. Silly owner.

Yesterday I opened the bathroom door to retrieve something and was stopped in my tracks by one of the little buggers flapping about like mad, trying to escape. I started to try to calm him down with my soothing words, until I got too close and all I could think was "AVIAN FLU!!", quickly shutting the door to let him figure it out himself. Aparently he did, because the next time I went in, he was gone.

Not wanting to make the same mistake today, but still needing to air out the bathroom, I cracked open the window just slightly, enough to get some circulation, but not so much that any disease-carrying creatures could get in. Or so I thought.

Around mid-morning today, Jax and I were doing our household chores when we hear chirping and flapping coming from the bathroom. Certain that they must just be outside the window, I opened the door, then shut it immediately at the sight of 2 birds flapping around, flying into the mirror, then the window, wall, and mirror again.

Laughing, I shut the door, glanced at Jax who was looking on in delight, took a deep breath, and worked out a game plan. I don't know how they made it in through that tiny little crack, but it was clear they were not going to make it back out without some help. I was going to have to go back in.

Covering my head, ducking down, but speaking in the most calming tone I could muster so as not to entice them to anger, I crept into the bathroom, trying to get to the window without dying. I was about halfway there when Jax started squealing, one of the brds took off into the house, and I began to scream, lunging toward the window while leaning heavily to the right so as not to come into contact with the other killer beast holding my bathroom hostage.

I made it to the window, freed bird #1, ran out to the hallway to find the other when lo and behold, it started making a beeline straight at my head. Screaming, I hit the ground as it gracefully dove over me and out the window, listening to Jax cackle and yell, "Funny!Funny!Funny!"

And you know what? It really was.

I Am Grateful...

...that Jax is so cute, otherwise none of his pulling-proucts-off-the- shelves-and-throwing-them-to-the-floor shenanigans would seem funny to anyone, and we'd be asked to leave every store we entered.

...that Ryan is so loud, it's like her own little personal GPS system -- I always know where she is.

...that they insist on splashing for the duration of bathtime -- how else would the bathroom floor get clean?

What "blessings" are you grateful for??

Martha Stewart Doesn't Live Here

But I do. And so does my husband. And my kids. And one of us has to clean.

I've been putting it off for soooo long. It seems like such a futile task. One second it's clean, the next it's red and sticky with bits of lint stuck all over.

Using my keen powers of self-trickery I had previously purchased the Mr. Clean Bathroom Wand thingy, as well as some new flushable toilet cleaners and the cutest pair of plastic gloves (Target Dollar Spot), all of which worked wonders in convincing me that what I was doing was fun.

That being the case, I was cleaning for the better part of the day, and left the kids with Shawn, so I don't have any good stories except that Jax's poop is subsiding (did I forget to mention he had a stomach virus this weekend?), he's rockin' his Big Boy Bed, and Ryan had chilled out a bit, but has yet to let go of her passion for slamming doors.

P.S. Check out what I've been working on in my 'spare time'...

TRUCKTRUCKTRUCKTRUCKTRUCK

Jaxson's vocabulary has just exploded over the past month or so -- his words are becoming clearer, he's putting them together for mini-sentences, he's even started counting on his own.

The one prob we can't figure out? Why he won't say CAR. He uses "truck" for everything with wheels, will point out the "car" to you when asked, but refuses to use the word. Shawn gritted his teeth through an hour of NASCAR yesterday just trying to get him to say "car".

Here's what I overheard this morning:

Shawn: "Say firetruck"
Jax: "firetruck"

Shawn: "Say airplane"
Jax: "ayplane"

Shawn: "Say train"
Jax: "train"

Shawn: "Say Car"
Jax:"TRUCK!"

(immediately followed by the sound of Shawn banging his head against the wall...)

Little Baby Jesus is Pissed

This must be what's going through Ryan's head right now. Absent of any other ideas to try to get her to stop this primadonna ride she's on, I've succumbed to the tried and true technique of guilting her into straightening up.

Time Out doesn't work, neither does taking toys away. She's fighting constantly with Jax, pulling, pushing, hitting, teasing and refusing to share. In turn, he's pulling, pushing, hitting and crying when she teases him and refuses to share.

The kid is awesome -- she's got a heart of gold, or at least, that's what her teacher says. I've yet to see it directed at her bro, though. In fact, earlier this week I used that tactic to try to get her to act nicer -- no more playdates until she starts treating her brother as well as she treats her friends.

It's not working.

So I've enlisted Baby Jesus and His posse. "Baby Jesus is watching" has become my new motto, one which was burned into my brain by my mother and she by hers. We're Catholics. It's how we roll. I used to be wary of instilling the guilt complex, but I'm at my wit's end, and she'll have the rest of her life to pull herself out of the self-loathing and fear that will follow.

Earlier today, when I'd used Baby Jesus for the umpteenth time and she still wasn't obeying, I resorted to calling in the big guns. The REALLY BIG GUNS.

Me: "Ryan -- I guess you don't want to go to Heaven and live with Baby Jesus when you die. Looks like you'd rather burn in Hell with the Devil for all eternity."

Ryan: "Yeah, that would probably be more fun."

Spreadin' the Love...

In honor of Dylan Thomas, I am not going gentle into that good night. I love my chunkyrhino shop, and I know many more would love it,too, if they only knew about us!!! My advertising skills and time are limited, and since my faithful followers are few (though FANTASTIC), I've decided to join forces with the gal who started it all (for me, anyway).

Back when I first got preg with Ry, my Mom ordered me a subscription to one of the phalanx of Baby Mags, wherein I read about Mindy Roberts and her blog, aptly and oh-so-covetously named"The Mommy Blog". I loved reading her and loved the basis behind what she was doing, but being a theatre teacher, coach and choir director, didn't really have the time to start my own.

We all know what happened next: I stopped teaching, went a little nuts, and chunkyrhino was born. She inspired me, I still read her religiously, and now I'm counting on her to take me to the next level. (No pressure, Mindy...)

I've signed up for advertisement on her new site, Boutique Community, which looks like it'll be my new favorite place to hang out!! Shop Chunkyrhino is still in full swing, and hopefully, with the aid of my new "teammate", it will actually hit something.

Go visit Mindy, check out the new site, let your friends know...this one's gonna be HUGE!!!!

Weighing the Options

Can you hear me groaning?? I'm being pretty loud about it -- I'm dreading tomorrow morning, because it's registration day at our church preschool.

blllggghhhhh. I'm registering Jax for next year, but the prob is that it's such a good school that people start lining up around 4am to register -- and this is just pre-registration!

My dilemma is: How bad do I want to sleep in vs. How bad do I want Jax off my hands for a couple of hours twice a week? Hmmm....hmmmm......weeeellllll.....huh.

Problem solved.

Happy Global Day of Love!! Peace and Good Things to everyone everywhere!!!

Open Arms

(That title is for you, Lea -- you freaky Journey-lovin' fool). Also, before I go any further, Happy Birthday to the best Ninny there ever was!!! We love you!!

Now back to me (I mean, uh, the family). My life swung back into normalcy today, what with me being able to actually get out of bed unassisted and all. Menana brought the kids back bright and early this morning, muttering something unintelligible and taking swigs from her flask, and right away it was Eat Eat Eat, Mine Mine Mine, No! No! No!, followed by screams, cries and my personal favorite number, Shawn hollering, "Boy! I am gonna DDT you!!"

All before 9 am.

I was very happy to have them home, and easily abided all the ruckus in exchange for hugs and kisses, kisses and hugs.

Then Jax fell down the stairs.

All 14 hardwood of them. Sweet Mary Mother of Mylanta, my heart stopped as I did a little dance at the couch, trying to figure out what to do with Shawn's laptop while simultaneously climbing over the coffee table, unable to tear my eyes away from the tossing, tumbling toddler and the blood gushing from his head.

Shawn and I reached him at exactly the same time, quickly examining his injuries, feeling for knots (2) cuts (1) and bruises (several). Trying to judge whether or not it was ER-qualified, we were abruptly aided in our decision when Jax started demanding, "EatEatEat".

The kid was fine.

It only took me about 2 more hours to recover from that coronary before we piled into the truck to take Ninny's b-day and V-day gifts to her at work, where apparently she was the only one NOT at the bank, for it took us 30 minutes to park, 20 minutes to back out, and 15 more to exit the parking lot. Shawn was not happy. When Shawn's not happy? I'm pissed (unless his unhappiness was my intention, at which point, I would be doing my victory dance in a dark corner very quietly, lest he hear me and attack).

That fight took us into the 2 'o-clock hour, when we opted to take Ry to her acting class early ("since she was so late to her last one, Amy" -- passive-aggressive fighting at its best). Half an hour is a long time to kill in a truck, so Shawn got the kids out to play at the nearby park, when as Murphy's Rule does dictate, Ryan was suddenly overcome with the urge to pee. No open restroom, so he walked her around the corner of the club house and took less than 30 seconds before he, Ryan, and a gaggle of geese came runnin' back towards the truck. Shawn wearing a frown, Ryan with her pants still down, and the geese going crazy. I'm still not sure what exactly went on back there, but I do know Ryan was covered in piss and it apparently had nothing at all to do with the geese -- they were some Happy Gilmore-esque side note.

We didn't make it to acting today, but we did get back to normal and that is worth more than the $50 a month we pay for someone else to teach Ry what I am legally certified to teach her and hundreds of other children myself.

Once again, it all comes down to PRIORITIES.

Don't mind the scratching...it's just me crawling out of my deathbed

This won't be long, because if I focus too long, I start to get dizzy, but I am still here (barely), and am now in the never-ending debt of my parents (my bill just keeps getting bigger) and Shawn. Menana came into town yesterday and picked up the kiddos so that I could flop myself down on the bed and not move for the next 24 hours, while Shawn cleaned, fed and comforted me with dutch chocolate ice cream. Unfortunately, I still feel like shit.

My good-ole-boy homewtown doctor didn't exactly diagnose me so much as throw some prescriptions my way as he boot-scooted out the door. More on the insurance incident later...

Some cheese with that whine??

So. I was in bed at 6:30 pm Tuesday night, still suffering from my earache, exhausted after being up with both the kids since 4:30am. Luckily, Shawn skipped the dinner part of his meeting, so I was able to have Jax fed and ready for bed by the time he walked through the door. Upset that I hadn't fixed anything for him to eat (as I had been told he would be dining out!), Shawn took out his anger by sending Jax in several times during the evening, and even stooped so low as to scream and yell at me because I hadn't laid Jax's binky out where he could find it. Sometimes I wish I was a lesbian.

Anyway, Wednesday didn't go much better, kids were both up again before the rooster's crow, my ear was still achy and I couldn't get a doctor appointment that didn't coincide with picking up or dropping off Ryan at one of her daily destinations, so I just sucked it up, locked Jax in his room (please, he's in his Big Boy Bed now -- how else am I supposed to get him to sleep?), attempted a 30 minute nap while my neighbors were having their trees trimmed (isn't that always the way?), and grudgingly pulled both of us out of the house in time to get Ryan from school.

After the debacle that was Tuesday night, and mostly because he finally got around to fixing the washing machine (BY HIMSELF!), I decided to make dinner for Shawn -- potato cakes, fried chicken and apple crisp. Except? The chicken didn't thaw all the way, as I discovered when trying to pull apart the legs, which would have been okay seeing as how we had back-up pork chops in the freezer that were easily micro-wave thawable if I hadn't covered them with Cayenne Pepper rather than Cumin -- oopsie! He loved 'em, I gagged. But the potato cakes and Apple Crisp? MMMMmmmmmm Good!

So explain to me why WHY he felt the need to fetch a screaming Jaxson at 5:20 this morning, deliver him to my bed (where a fever-ridden Ryan was already residing), and then leave? Why does he do this? Does he hate me? Is this payback for some forgotten crime? Does he secretly wish I was a lesbian, too? Alas, we may never know, for when I ask, all I get out of him is: "What? I was trying to help!"

Yeah, that about sums it up

Yesterday was long and horrible. I have a sore throat and earache, we were late late late for Ry's 2nd acting class, we forgot to get a folder for her, I didn't workout, and best of all, Jax took a big ole poo in the bathtub, throwing it at me at Ryan's insistence.

Where was Shawn during all of this? At an all-day meeting at Cool River, enjoying free lunch and dinner with adults. And he gets to do it all over again today. Some people.

Ramblin'...

I've been hearing some grumblings among my people -- not enough posts lately, and all that mess. Yes, I know, I haven't been bringing the funny as regularly as usual, but things have been a little, shall we say, "crazy" around here this past month, so thanks for all the patience and understanding, butt-holes.

Okay, now that I've ranted, I will grant you your wish: lots of funny, and pics to boot!

Hmmm....let's see....I'll start with yesterday and work my way back, yes?

So, Super Bowl week rolled around and we decided to invite some families over so the kids could play and leave us alone while we drank. Ha. Hah ha ha.

We did drink, and they did play, but the part about leaving us alone? Huh. It amazes me that after 5 years I am still so very naive.

Our friends Angie and Kreg brought their boys, Jayden and Hunter, along with a huge box of beauty products and two shopping bags worth of boy's clothing (they're moving soon, we're reaping the benefits). After spending 30 minutes with Lalo digging through makeup, lotions, perfume, hair products, you name it, we headed out with the guys to get the party going. Soon after, our friends Stephanie and Rob arrived with their little man Stephen, and we really went to town.

We were having so much fun, eating talking, watching, drinking...we were all taken by surprise when Kreg looked up at the stairway and said, "Umm, Ryan's coming down...naked."

Sure enough, there she was in all her birthday suit glory, descending down the stairway like a little miniature naked Scarlett, not at all shy or embarrassed. When asked why she took off all of her clothes? "Hunter told me to" was the reply.

Later when we asked her the age-old questions, "If Hunter asked you to jump off the Empire State Building, would you do it?", she looked at us with the 4 yr old condescending stare of her's and said, "Duh, no. It's much more dangerous to jump off a building than take off your clothes."

If she only knew.

We navigated this obstacle, and were able to get back into party mode until we were summoned upstairs where Jay had peed all over himself and our bathroom floor. Not such a big deal, since he's potty-training, but then we found out they dared him to do it, and guess who was the ring leader?? That little girl is D-A-N-G-E-R-O-U-S, but at least she can hold her own with the boys.

Then, just as everyone was getting ready to leave, Ry came down from her room crying, sobbing, hysterical. We finally managed to calm her down long enough to get her to tell us what happened: "Hunter pulled the head off my Jesus Bobblehead Doll!!! Now God is gonna be so mad at me, and even worse (gasp) Lea will never get me anything ever again!!"

Priorities, people. It's all about teaching your kids priorities.

So that was that, lots of fun, lots of calories, and now we're back to normal. Or whatever.

Let's see...Saturday was boring, I think. Oh wait -- we did go to a really cute birthday party, cowboy-themed, all done by the parents, one of whom is an engineer. (The rigging for the horse pinata was especially cool.) Jax made a splash among all the parents, who seemed unanimously amazed at his level of speech as well as his level of energy.

Yeah, he's great in small doses. It's the fact that he brings the fun from 6 am until bedtime that wears me out. You understand.

Friday was Menana's birthday, and we celebrated with dinner at Rosie's Tamale House, where we again managed to draw attention to ourselves. Strange, I know. Jax was his normal excited self, Ryan was busy seat-hopping and mommy and daddy were throwing back the brews. The best part, actually there were several, but one of the best was when I was bragging to my mom about how hard I had worked out that morning in order to be able to pig out at dinner, when she looked down and said, "Really? That's great! Now maybe you can work on zipping your zipper."

Turns out I had not properly completed my earlier task of visiting the Ladies' Room. (Another inevitable MOMENT -- I told you.)


So that was the weekend in rewind, hope you enjoyed. All I've got left are few funny quotes from Ry and some great pics:

This is how she looked when I sent her to school
on Tuesday morning.


This is how she looked when I picked her up that afternoon. Can YOU find what's missing?



Here's the raccoon we came across in our backyard Wednesday night. He's a big fucker, and not at all worried about us. When we walked outside to take pics, he looked us over, shrugged (I swear!), then went right back to doing whatever it was he was doing.

Ryan's come up with some cute conversation lately, like earlier last week while driving to school when she asked me if Shawn and I would ever break up.

"No, baby. Never. We're doomed to be together until we die."

"But everyone breaks up, Mommy. You guys have to break up, too."

That's right -- I spent the morning listening to my daughter try to convince me to break up with Shawn.

Another day, when we were talking about not letting other kids boss her around (as if that would ever be an issue, stripping incident not withstanding), she said, "I'll just tell them that they aren't the boss of me -- my Mommy is!"

Yeah, baby. I've got it recorded for all of time!!

So that's it. Thanks for all the comments on our chunkyrhino products, btw. You guys really know how to make someone feel loved.

Just do it already

Okay, fine. No one wants to buy our super-cool, super-cute stuff? (except you, Shah, my love)

I can live with rejection, but I'll be damned if I have to pay for it. Since offering all of you non-shoppers such variety is charging my credit card every month, I've decided to scale down our cafepress store, only able to offer one quote/image per product.

Humor me, people. Go over to the store, look at the stuff, and leave me a comment on what your favorite one is. Otherwise, I'm afraid I'll have to shut it down all together, and you KNOW how much I hate to admit complete and total failure.

Partial failure? That I can handle.

XYZ

You know those delightful, delectable moments in life when you're flying high, feeling great, ready to take on the world when all of a sudden you realize the proverbial toilet paper stuck to your shoe? My life is a series of those moments.

Take today, for example. Faced with the daunting task of picking up the telephone, I had put off fixing the washer for as long as possible. It's not that I don't want the washer fixed, nor do I love sneaking across the lawn to my neighbor's twice a day with a basket of clothes -- It's just that I hate, hate, hate talking on the phone. ESPECIALLY to people I don't know. Double especially when it's about a subject I am clueless on. But most of all, especially when the experts on the other line are men. (duhdunDUHHHNNNNNN)

All at once, I am reverted back to that awkward 12 yr-old-girl, sucking-ass at softball, cringing as her dad slaps her batting helmet, yelling "Get your head outta your ass!" in front of, you know, everyone. I get clammy and pale (paler than normal, anyway), shaky all over, and all I can say is "hummenahummena".

It's taken me 4 days to even pick up a phone book, an hour to select two businesses to call (which ad is more trustworthy? Which looks expensive? Who will be least likely to rip us off? What is the square root of pi?), another spent calling the selected businesses, attempting to describe the problem: "My husband says it sounds like the belt -- it's grinding, but not spinning," only to, naturally, be chuckled at and informed that: "no, lil' darlin', that's not what it is. It's a Whirlpool, right?" *imagined turn of head for dip spit* "That' s the motor cuff links -- it's what joins the blahbliddy blah to the whodiewhaty..." I can't finish the rest of what he said because at this point I was no longer listening, but writing and underlining the phrase, 'motor cuff-links'.

Okay, so I flubbed my first attempt to sound knowledgeable, but luckily the blame was easily passed on to Shawn. Desperate to save face, I jot down the guy's quote for the part, then hang up to call the other place to compare. 20 minutes of fumbling questions and repeated phone calls to Shawn later, my paranoia gets the better of me and I resort to calling our friend, Handyman Jeff. This guy knows everything there is to know about all this mechanical shit, I feel sure he'll be able to tell me what to do.

Still trying to appear poised and confident, I dial him up, and converse for another 15 minutes on the ins and outs of washer repair and how to know whether it'd the "cuff-links" or transmission. After test-trying the washer, we discover it must be the 'cuff-links', and he gives me the number for a parts store to check on availability.

So there I am, weapons sharpened and ready: my notes from Jeff, my extra-sweet big southern accent tinged with just the right amount of perky, my screaming offspring in the background -- sword and shield and all that nonsense.

I go through the steps, calling out model number, serial number, etc., sharing a laugh with the man on the othet end over Jax's screams, and he happily affirms they do carry the part and it's only $15."

I am thrilled. I am ecstatic. I am Mary Tyler Moore, throwing my hat up into the city skyline, when all of a sudden, he finishes with:

"And by the way, they're called couplings, not 'cuff-links' *chuckle, chuckle* It's a washing machine, not a tuxedo..."

Know where I can get a good washboard??

In the yearly tradition of "Yay! We got $$ back from our taxes, let's see what breaks down now!!", our washing machine has gone kaput. Just up and started grinding its teeth, flailing its arms about, stomping its feet, declaring "I don't wanna! I don't wanna!"

Shawn says he thinks it's the belt or something, but all I know is I've got a washer full of wet, soapy towels, and I'll be damned if I have to haul them, myself, and Jax Attack to a washeteria with a fistful of quarters. I graduated from college already, thank you very much.

So I figure, why not a wash board and basin? Seriously? If my great-great-great granny could do it, how hard could it be? I'll wear some long itchy skirts and a bonnet and we'll call it a history lesson for the kiddos.

Now if I could just figure out where to put the liquid fabric softener...

Let My People Go

Tonight was Family Night at the York House. Breakfast for dinner, and a movie to boot. We searched HBO on Demand, and decided on "The Prince of Egypt". Yep, the leader of the Jews and Pigs in a Blanket -- the best of both worlds.

Anyway, we were actually pretty excited to watch it; Ryan had just recently learned the story of Moses at preschool, and it was one that has held her attention for longer than 30 minutes, so we were more than happy to supplement the lesson, Disney-style.

The only problem is, the kid likes to ask questions. Lot and lots of questions. Questions of specificity and details so minute that in times like these (aka:when talking about biblical stories) I generally defer to Shawn, oh Private School Punk that he is. It's not that I didn't have a very long, thorough bible-based education, it's just that when it's between me and the Bible Bowl champion of 89,90 and 91, I usually tend to lose.

Apparently, all the BBQ smoke must have clouded his brain, because there turned out to be a lot of questions he couldn't answer, like, when Moses left Egypt, who took care of his sheep? Ummm....

So I did what any good Catholic would do in a time like this, I referred her to her Godparents, Lalo and Jeff, who conveniently weren't at home. On to Plan B.

Once the movie had ended and some of the questions were still unanswered, Ryan and I headed up to her room to read from Exodus on the matter. We got about to the part where Moses is discovered by the Pharoah's daughter and his sister offers to fetch the mother to feed him when all hell broke loose (pardon the pun).

"Why did the mom have to feed him? Didn't the Pharaoh's daughter have food?"

"Yes, but when mommies have babies, they produce milk in their breasts (cringing now just as I did when I said it, btw) for the babies to drink." *wince*

*Can literally see the wheels just a-turnin'* "Well how does the baby get the milk from the mommy's boobs?"

Sweet Jesus. "You know, the baby sucks it out of the boob, Ry."

(Clutching at her non-existent bosom)"Oh My GAHH!! They suck it out of them? How does it get in there in the first place? Does someone put it in?"

"No, when the Mommy is pregnant, her body just sort of produces and stores the milk for the baby to drink."

"Oh, I see. The Mommy has to get the milk or the baby will die. But, did Jax suck on your boob?"

Oh God. "No, and neither did you. You didn't like it and I didn't have a lot of milk anyway, so you guys both just drank formula, and you survived, you little La Leche Nazi. Now close your eyes and go to sleep."

"Mom? What's a Nazi?"

Moses, Boobies, and the Third Reich. Who knew?

Dude. Road Trip.

Who needs a family vacation in order to have fun in the car when your kid's pre-school is half an hour away??? Just an example of the rollercoaster ride we take every morning, today was no different than normal:

The coffee pot broke last night (AAAGGGHHHH), and since I was up with both kids throughout the night, I was in desperate need of a caffeine fix this morning. Shuffling the kids off to the car as fast as I could, I took off (sans bra or wedding ring) for the local drive-thru Starbucks, literally itching for a drink. The whole way there, Ryan was darting me with questions: Are we going to school today? Why are we going this way? How did you break the coffee pot? Why do you need cofee? How? Why? Why? How?

That 5 minute drive alone was enough to drive me mad, which was apparently quite obvious to Ryan, because the minute we pulled up to the order window, she rolled down her window and screamed, "MOMMY BROKE THE COFFE POT AND NEEDS COFFE NOW!!!!!". (Apparently, this must happen to a lot of moms, because the drive-thru chick didn't even bat an eye.)

Once I had my Venti Caramel Macchiato in hand, we were off towards school, a fact which Ryan required confirmation of at least a dozen times. Finally, at the point of breaking, I suggested she chew some gum, only she couldn't let Jax see it, or he would be begging for some as well, which would kind of defeat the purpose. Against every teacher fiber in body, I proceeded to teach Ryan my own special technique of sneaking gum.

"Just start coughing, Ry, and when you bring your hands up to cover your mouth, slip the gum in."

This took 15 minutes to accomplish, what with her repeated questioning of my technique, her need to understand why we were sneaking gum, and her numerous failed attempts,but she was finally successful, much to the chagrin of her future teachers, I'm sure. My bad.

10 more minutes left in our car trip, so I decided to enjoy the silence by turning up the radio. Yeah, I'm funny that way. I was listening to my friend Heather's morning show, when the opportunity to win dinner for two at a really great restaurant came up, available to the 5th caller.

I frantically began to dig one-handed through my garbage-bag-masqueraded-as-a-purse, searching for my cell, when all of a sudden from the backseat I hear, "Hi Menana!"

Much to my chagrin (as well as the chagrin of everyone on my speed dial), I have recently taught Ryan how to dial certain family members by simply pushing and holding their assigned number. Since I taught her this last week, I have discovered her making various phone calls throughout the day, hassling my mom and sisters at work, hanging up when they tell her they'll call her back, then picking up the phone to call them again when she hasn't heard from them 5 minutes later. It's hilarious some of the messages I hear her leave: "Ninny, I really need you to call me back, I have something really for real important to tell you." or "Lea, why haven't you called me back? You said you would call me back, but you didn't and I want to know why." We've got a future phone-stalker on our hands, my friends.

Anyway, as soon as I realize that she has called my Mom, I scream, "Ryan! Hang up the phone!! I need to make an important call! I want to win DINNER!!!!" Ryan looks at me as if I have just shot Bambi, at which point I replay what I just said in my head, sink down into my chair, muttering "nevermind", and keep driving.

Needless to say, I did not win the free dinner.

Anyone want to carpool???

Flattery, schmattery....

So. It's that time again -- Mommy and Me Children's Consignment Sale is gearing up for our Spring 2007 Sale, and this one is proving to be bigger and better than ever. Already, we've reached amazing heights with the response from moms all over the central Texas area -- we had over 2,000 shoppers for the Fall sale -- and now it seems other consignment sales are trying to ride on our coat tails.

I won't mention the other sale's name, but it is pretty new to the area, and has already pissed off Mama Bear by using our trademark slogan (Sell! Shop! Save!) on their website. Naughty, naughty... Why can't we all just get along??

Anyway, this sale is going to be even better than our previous ones -- we've created a Mom's Night Out event with Austin's family-friendly radio station, The River, where we will be featuring free massages, body fat testing, mini-mani's, and more!!! We've also set aside space during this time for all of our new and soon-to-be moms -- lots of cool stuff that I sooo wish I'd had when I was preggers.

The website is open for registration, but the registration deadline is March 20th, so get in now!! Plus, if you volunteer, you get a better shopping time, as well as a chance to make even more money. Consigning is super easy -- we do most of the work for you -- and you will definitely be glad you did when you get your check in the mail, usually within 7-10 days after the sale.

Periodically, I'll post pics of some of the stuff I'm selling, just to give you an idea of the awesome finds you'll see there. Plus, don't forget -- I got Jax a Big Wheels Jeep, in great working condition, for only $50!! As if he would know the difference!!

Check out the website and start listing your stuff now, and don't forget to start writing down the stuff you'll want to shop for when you're there -- it makes your time there so much more worthwhile!!!

Everyone's a comedian...

Here's how Shawn showed his support over the Hair Incident this week. See how quickly you can spot his addition to my to-do list:

Funny funny, ha ha.

That's All I'm Sayin'

Happy now??

Here's what happened:

We've been stuck in the house, or had been, for at least 3 days, me and the kids, while the entire Austin-area was freaking out over an inch or two of ice. I'm hours away from my period, Shawn comes home Tuesday night with a stomach virus, quarantines himself in the master bedroom, which is the only non-child-inhabited warm room in the house.

Chalk it up to too much cold, too much kids, too much hormones, too much cabin fever -whatever the reason, I felt compelled yesterday morning to cut my bangs. Please don't ask me why. I cannot handle trying to explain to one more person why I would do something so stupid, I just did. Anyway, one thing led to another, and before anyone could say "Tinkerbell!", that's apparently who I turned into.

Tinkerbell, Kevin Bacon, Dudley Moore, my mother... I look like a million people other than myself, and while I am trying hard to remember that it is just a silly haircut and that it will grow back, I am having a difficult time.

For someone who thought she was ugly to begin with, this is a new low, one that will take me a little time to dig my way out of. Not to mention the fact that Shawn won't speak to me, much less look at me, and the rest of my family has me on speed dial, worried about me to the point that they're suggesting therapy.

I will be fine. It is JUST HAIR, but I don't want to talk about it again for a while, so please don't ask. The kids are great, the house is messy as usual, and I've still got some of my humor intact, as I will prove by inserting this dandy little quote, which is all that's been running through my head since yesterday morning: "I've used bobbypins to stop the curling on one side..."

It Happened To Me

In honor of all of the salacious "BEWARNED" articles that plague nearly every parenting magazine known to man, chunkyrhino brings you:

How CoffeeMate Saved My Life, by Jaxson York (21mos)

"'Sup kids? How's it hangin'? So, listen, you know how Mommies are always drinking that dark stuff in the morning, and like 10 minutes later they're A LOT nicer than when you woke them up screaming "EAT! EAT!"? Yeah, well, my mom is no different -- the broad guzzles gallons a day, which might improve her mood, but does nothing for her breath.

ANYWAY, I was just sitting here this morning, playing with some friends of mine, when I looked up and saw Moms putting milk in her black stuff and stirring it around. I heard her offer some the other mommy-type that was here, saying something about "coffee mate". Well. I had just finished my 2nd sippy full of water, and that milk stuff was looking preeetty good.

I know how she loves it when I beg frantically, repeating myself with urgency until she does that funny laugh/yell/dance ritual that freaks RyRy out, so I started in with "DRINK!DRINK!", then "MILK!MILK!". Nothin'. It was time to pull out the big guns.

I climbed onto her lap, reached up, and yanked that mug right out of her hands, sending that milky-dark stuff on top of my head, all over my face and clothes. Damn, that shit was hot!

I screamed. I cried. She screamed. She cried. Mom said I was lucky she had put so much of that milk stuff into her coffee, because without it it would have hurt a lot worse. I dunno, it hurt pretty bad as it was...until I licked myself, then all else was forgotten. It tasted so good, I found the wet clothes she stripped off of me, sucking the very last hint of yumminess out of every fiber.

Yeah, so anyway, that's how CoffeeMate saved my life. Tell your friends."

My head is THIS CLOSE to exploding

Some people.

You Asked For It

Okay, lovies. Prepare to sit back and enjoy the first annual installment of RUIDOSO RUMBLE (echo, echo, echo).

Now, I believe I teased you all with the trials we faced on our first day -- lots of poop, burned condo, hardly any snow. Actually, this was mild for us, as you all know. Hmmm, so you want stories...

Let's see, there was the uneventful first day, until 6/7 pm rolled around, and we performed our White Elephant exchange, wherein yours truly received Cranium, which Lea (the gift giver) commanded we break open and play immediately.

So we did:

Can't ya just smell the fun??. Then we took a break, Shawn tried to change Jax's poop ("It won't stop coming out!!"), Big Daddy broke down laughing so hard he cried, and then he called it a night.

This led us to charades, at which Miss Ryan happens to be a natural. She solves the clues and can perform to a tee at the drop of a hat. Our favorite was when she stood still, arms out parallel to the ground, eyes closed. Menana yelled out , "Ummm...Christ?!?"

Ryan, rolling her eyes, replied, "No, Menana. Jesus." I fell in love with her all over again.

But what's best is that wonderful 4 yr old spirit that thinks every victory, no matter how small (or how non-victorious), calls for celebration.

We eventually all padded to bed, eagerly anticipating the next day's snow events, which turned out to be less-than-exceptional.

Remember the snow tubing we were so excited about? Yeah, this one. It pretty much sucked. The wind was blowing so hard we were literally blown away every time we tried to drag our tubes uphill (okay, that was fun), and when we finally reached the top, the Hitler-esque owner was there to yell and scream at us, moving us along like so much cattle being herded to slaughter.

This did not bode well for Mr. Shawn. Used to being the one barking the orders, he quickly bristled, explaining he was waiting for his daughter who was right behind him, but the only reply he got was "MOVE IT!" Yikes.

Now, we are nothing if not loud, passionate people, so of course Shawn retorts, "F*&k you, you a$$. I'm f*&$ing waiting for my f#$*ing family, who happen to be the only other f$&*ing people on your damn ride, so shut the f%*k up!" (I may have paraphrased a bit.)

After a few more insults between Shawn and the owner, he finally moved along, only to be engaged in a 7th-grade worthy stare-down. I'm not usually timid of others while in Shawn's presence (I essentially married my bodyguard), but seeing as how Ryan was playing, we had spent $45, had only been there 30 minutes, and this guy could conceivably kick us out, I was eagerly trying to calm Shawn down.

Lucky for us, Ryan was having about as much fun as we were, so we quickly left anyway.

We made our way back to the house to meet up with Menana and Big Daddy who had taken Jax to Wal-Mart to look for snow boots. Apparently, they had had a similar experience, just different place, different people.

I should preface this little story with a short explanation: 1) Big Daddy is a big, big man, survivor of 4 or 5 heart attacks (I've lost count), who finds it very hard to do anything other than sit at such a high altitude; 2) Menana is old and bitchy (kidding, mom, kidding); and 3) Jaxson is heavy as shit and won't obey, meaning in a place like Wal-Mart he requires carrying and/or restraints.

According to Menana, they had just dragged/heaved Jax all the way through the parking lot eagerly searching for alternate means of transporting his fat little figure, only to be greeted by the ever-present Wal-Mart Senior Citizen, who declared, "Welcome to Wal-Mart, we don't have any baskets on this side, you'll have to go to the other entrance if you need one."

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Dad could barely breathe, Jax was squirming like a stuck pig, and mom's age was creeping into her bones, making way for the bitchy. They trodded ALL THE WAY ACROSS THE STORE, into shopping basket wonderland.

"You guys need to send some baskets to the other side. They're all out over there," she informed Old Lady Greeter #2.

OLG#2: Well, they haven't asked for any yet.

(Here comes the bitchy)

Mom: "Well, I'm telling you. They're all out over there, I just had to walk ALL THE WAY ACROSS THE STORE to get one. The big guy can't breathe, this one's fat as fuck, and I've got Cancer." (Well, maybe she didn't play the cancer card, but she should have.)

OLG#2: "Well, I've got to wait for them to tell me to send them over."

Mom: [Enter long, over-wrought Julia Sugarbaker-esque tirade here]

Anyway, long story longer, Dad said he was just trying to scoot Mom along, telling her to hush under his breath, with was barely making it out as it was, eventually getting them all out of harms way, when seconds later they hear this over the loud speaker: "More baskets to the North Entrance, please. Baskets needed."

Cut to Menana smiling smuggly.

That's just how we roll, folks. The Roberts/York Family: Making enemies across America since 1977.

So the afternoon progressed into another evening of food, drinks, games and insults (another thing we're really good at), until we all pooped out and turned in for the night.

The next morning was on to Ski Apache for me, Shawn, Lea and Ryan, where Ryan attended a kid's ski class and totally kicked ass. I'd have pics to show, but I'm still waiting for Big Daddy and Lea to send them to me, so blame them. Apparently, the skis that took us 2 hours to acquire (including measuring), were too big for Ryan, a fault we only learned of at the end of the 6 hour day.

Ryan: "Please can I stop now? My feet hurt so bad!"

Teacher: " Yeah, these skis are way too big for her -- I'm amazed that she did as well as she did!"

Lucky for her, Aunt Lea was also ready to go, a result of having a monstrous headache due to the 3 times she fell getting off the ski lift. She claims it was mine and Shawn's faults, but we know better, don't we?

By the way, for those of you who know all about Shawn's previous ski trials in Steamboat Springs 9 years ago, when he managed to get taken down the mountain 2 days in a row by the ski patrol, and had himself banned from the mountain until he took ski lessons, he excelled this time, thanks to instruction from the Incredible Falling Lea.

While we conquered the mountain, Ninny and the old folks were tubing with Jaxson, another adventure I'd provide pictures of, if only they'd taken them. Apparently there was some complication involving icy conditions, bum knees, and "only having two hands, AMY!" I swear, they are such lightweights.

This took us into evening, all of us a little sad about having to leave the next day, when lo and behold, God stepped in and said, "C'mon...stay another day. You know you want to!"

We had a snow storm early in the a.m., leaving us snowed-in and calling the rental place to extend our stay.

It was WONDERFUL!!! The kids finally got to really play in the snow, which was awesome considering the first day's playtime only yielded this.

Snow ball fights, sledding, you name it, we did it. Then, 30 minutes later, we were sooo over it, so we retreated inside and punished ourselves with a 4 hour game of Phase10.

Later, the girls headed to downtown Ruidoso for shopping, where Ryan begged Lea Ann to buy her this. That's right, she now owns her very own Bobble Head Jesus Doll.

And that's that. We ate a lot, drank a lot, played even more, and had one of the best vacations in family history.

Now, if we could just do something about that 10 hour car trip...

So sue me already...

I know I said I'd post about the trip, but it's been 2 days now and our Dell Dinosaur is still uploading the pics. You know I don't like to read, much less write, anything that doesn't have pics, so you'll just have to continue being patient.

Also? Just when we thought it was safe to come out and declare Jax to be a sweet, adorable, spunky little guy, he turns back into THE DEVIL. He's learned to climb out of his crib, and does so at every chance. Also, he's been waking up the past few nights screaming, won't sleep with us, won't let us put him down, so we end up laying blankets out on the floor so that at least when he's done slamming himself against his closed door, he'll have something soft to pass out on.

Except? Shawn just went to calm him down, and returned saying he's pretty sure he has an ear infection (he says his ear smells) and that he also thinks Jax has gas (he's pulling up his knees). I don't have the heart to tell him that it's probably just his own breath bouncing back up into his own face, and that Jax loves to, um, bend his knees..? uuuggghhhh.

Looks like I may not be posting pics tomorrow either, unless the doc has a laptop and wifi she'll let me use.

Try this one out, Supernanny

Before I begin, yes, I will be posting stories and pics from Ruidoso, as soon as I get over the mind-numbing effects of dieting. I'm on Day 2, which is 2 days longer than I've been able to stay on any diet in quite some time, and it's a wonder I found my way to the computer at all today. I'm also on my 3rd day with no alcohol, so cut a girl some slack, will ya?

Anyway... took the kiddos to the much-dreaded FLU-SHOT APPOINTMENT today.

Holy God.

I've resolved to be a better mom this year, to try to take each day as it comes, and set my priorities where they should be, instead of where my mind leads them -- novels, fashion mags, shopping, tv shows...

That said, I knew today was all about calming Ryan's fears and keeping her feeling as secure as possible. I am such an over-achiever. First of all, let me just say that we scheduled this damn appt. before Christmas, so it has definitely been a dark cloud looming over our heads for at least 2 weeks now. Even on our trip to Ruidoso, Ryan spent plenty of "alone time" with Menana in her room, discussing her worries, and that the fact that when she thinks of getting the shot, she gets "all crazy in her head", worried that "the crazy will come out."

)Seriously. She should just go ahead and get her own honorary phD, write herself some prescriptions, and start pulling her financial weight around here. The clarity with which she expresses her emotions and thoughts would impress me if it didn't also leave me huddled in a ball in the corner, asking, "Why, God, why???)

Back to the shot. We'd been talking about it for a while, reading some books about going to the doctor, and I had finally gotten her to stop threatening to kill all the doctors in the world. Very big stuff here, kids. I figured I'd do a reward in reverse, take her to get an icecream before the shot, just to show her how much faith I had in her and the excellent job she would do come vaccination time. Sucker bought it hook, line and sinker.

Did I mention I'm the sucker?

Everything was rolling smooth as glass until the nurse came in with the needles, and asked who would go first.

"Ryan will. She's excited to show her brother how easy it is."

Those words set off an alarm of gargantuan proportions: "NO NO NO NO!!! PLEASE! NOT ME!!! IDON"T WANT TO GO! TAKE JAXSON FIRST! LEAVE ME!!! TAKE THE BABY!!!!!"

Top-of-her-lungs-blood-curdling-screams, accompanied with waves of tears, wild thrashing of extremities, and the most labored breathing I'd heard since, well, labor.

"Ryan, we talked about this. It's just gonna prick a little. Want to chew some gum?"

(Don't ask where I pulled that one from.)

*sob, gulp, sob, sob sob* (screams): "Will(gasp) it (gasp) make it (gasp) not hurt?!?"

"Oh yes, yes! It's MAGIC GUM!!" (The nurse and I are now in cahoots.) So we use my body as a veritable straight jacket to hold her still, as she continues to holler to take Jaxson and leave her. Luckily, I've had experience in this arena.

The needle does its thing, she never even feels it, and is so overcome with joy and relief that she starts doing that sobbing/laughing thing that Steel Magnolias made so popular long ago.

Once that was done, Jaxson, who had just earlier been offered as a sacrificial lamb, climbs up, drops his pants, and doesn't even flinch. (I'm thinking he was still numb from the spanking I gave him minutes before in the bathroom for opening the urine cups with his teeth.)

You think I'm exaggerating, I know, but let me just tell you: when we walked out, every single member of the pediatrician's office was in tears, laughing so hard at what I'm sure was shit-gigglingly humorous when heard from behind a wall.

National Lampoon's has nothin' on us

So we've been here in Ruidoso for about 6 hours, and so far Jax has had diarrhea everywhere, the condo we were renting caught fire, we spent $100 on tire chains for no apparent reason, and Ryan has built an 8-inch-tall snowman.

We were hoping for some serious powder on the slopes, but when we got here, the temp barely registered below the 48 degree temperature we left in Texas. This did not hinder Ryan's mood one bit. The minute we pulled up to the house they upgraded us to, she jumped out of the truck, flung herself onto the 6"x6" swatch of snow still sticking to the ground, exclaiming "I love snow! Snow is GREAT! This is so awesome!!!"

She is nothing if not enthusiastic.

Party Hardy

Have just spent the end of 2006 hangin' with my peeps. Took the kids to the bookstore, then to church, and finally ended up at Chili's. After an hour or so of them "charming" every other diner, every server, and even a few bus boys, we headed home for bathtime and an unfortunately unforgettable 20 minutes of perusing The Naked Brothers Band website with Ryan.

Ninny's living it up at at Sandra Bullock's bash, but I'm pretty sure I got the better party.

Or something.

Happy New Year!!

P.S. Want something more entertaining to read? Check us out one year ago. I love this family.

Just counting the days...

...until THIS. Just 4 more to go!!!

From Us to You

Okay, so I know I'm the last one out here to discover this holiday treat, but go on over to mamarella and enjoy anyway!

Very Merry

For all the huffing and puffing, Christmas actually did turn out wonderfully. With a house full of family and friends, lots and lots of fattening yummies, and probably a few too many gifts, we had an extremely blessed holiday.

Shawn worked Christmas Eve, so he "missed" going to church with my family and the kiddos, although really, we only stayed through the gospel, then slipped out the back. Elderly people needed our seats and all, you understand.

Then it was back to the house to attempt to carry on Honey's tradition of gumbo on Christmas Eve. It only took us 2 tries. The first ended with a very burnt, very smokey bowl of roux (not at all our fault, I'll have you know), but the second batch was successful, so kiss my ass, you never tasted gumbo so good, Dad.

Then it was on to the gifts. Baby Jesus In A Manger, we had a lot of gifts, or the kids did anyway: cars, trucks, ipods,laptops,
barbies, barbies, barbies
and lots 0f "ugghh..more clothes..." Ry also scored a dance mat w/dvd, which would be awesome if we still had a dvd player. Oh, I didn't tell you that story? Silly me. I'll have to post about it later...

Santa left a Power Wheels Jeep for Jax (which he got for a steal at the Mommy and Me Sale), and Lion King tickets and a Genevieve doll for Ry (thanks to Ninny for leaving the actual tix at her apt, sending Mommy on a mad dash to print out passable ones at midnight).

This morning was spent laboring over Peppermint Mocha Coffee, Eggnog French Toast and Sky-High Brunch Bake, but not before I regaled Ry with stories of my bleeding foot from the night before -- One hand-me-down table from sis : $0; One dustbuster to clean up broken tabletop: $30; One new tabletop: $100, gashing your foot on an errant piece of broken glass, leaving pools of blood on the garage floor: priceless.

Slowly the rest of the family trickled in, bringing bits and piece of what would be a masterful Christmas dinner.

But now, everyone is gone, leaving Mommy, Daddy, Ry, Jax and Nana sipping warm apple cider, eating gingerbread, and watching Pirates of the Carribean.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!!!

Swanhilda

Ryan had her first dance "recital" this week. More of an informal showing than an actual recital, but it was fun. Ry provided the real entertainment, goofing off at every chance, falling to the ground whenever possible. I have no idea where she gets it from *cough*. One of the moms cried during the performance. I almost reached over to tell her that it wasn't that bad, and would be over shortly, but from the look of pride on her face, I decided against it. Some people.



I could have cried, too. Not out of pride, but because we have a house full of sick peeps. I've been dealing with the horribly-named Herpangina, Ry's had pink eye, and Jax has fevers on and off and wheezing. Took him to the doctor yesterday, where we were told it was a viral thing, just wait it out. You all know how much I love paying money to hear that.

Holiday Spirit

Let me be the first quasi-Austinite to say that the Zilker Trail of Lights BLOWS. That's right, I said it, and I stand by every word. For all the hoopla and trouble you have to go through to get there, the end result isn't all that.

Maybe it's just me, or maybe it was the feeling of being herded like cattle amongst hundreds of others, maybe it was all the cigarette smoke (go figure -- the park is the only place you can smoke in Austin anymore), maybe it was the little girl whose mom let her run amuck, tripping Shawn and almost sending him and Jax (up on Shawn's shoulders) tumbling to the ground. Whatever it was, it sucked.

The highlight of the whole thing was the train ride, which we had to wait until 10 pm to ride, and the fact that during that wait, I made Shawn watch Jax, since it was his brilliant idea to go in the first place.

But I must say, in all my life experiences, I've learned that sometimes the best family memories are the ones where you had to endure some sort of horror together -- like the trip to Flagstaff where we got into a fight with an Indian owner of a gas station, or DisneyWorld, when my mom "had words" with a Yankee. So all in all, I guess it did turn out okay as far as family time goes -- the kids got to stay up late, I got to bitch out a mom, and Shawn just got to spend time with us. How's that for a silver lining?

Let's Just Call It Punishment

Thank you. Thank you very much.

Our Inaugural Return

Grab some popcorn, a drink and sit back and relax: I've got a doozy for ya.

The previous post? That was 9 am this morning. A mere 31/2 hours since his father so lovingly left him in my care, he proceeded to yank the heavy glass table top off of our kitchen table, sending it crashing to the ground as we were quite literally walking out the door. Relax, he's fine.
But our wood floor is not. If we were ever in denial about needing to replace it, we no longer are.

Lucky for Jaxson, I was scheduled to take a Yoga class after dropping Ry off at school, so at least I was able to relieve something -- although I almost got it back, when after telling the class why I was in such a horrible mood, one lady offered up this piece of advice:

"Maybe he's just trying to get some attention."

Yeah, and maybe you'd like my fist in your face. Namaste.

Took me half the morning to clean up the glass, so for those of you still waiting on Christmas cards...keep waiting.

The afternoon actually did get better, Ryan's teacher was so proud of her because when the class realized that one little bot was without a Christmas bell (they read the Polar Express), she offered up hers. Then when we got home, she informed me, "You know, Mom, some people think I'm cool."

"Oh yeah? Who?"

"Me."

Which is always good to hear from your 4 yr old daughter.

Later, Ryan, Emma, Jaxson and I were hanging out in the backyard, and I actually found myself in a serious debate over why the people in the house behind us never ever jump on their 2-month-old trampoline.

Ryan: "They were on it the other day, throwing things at my head."

This led us to another of our favorite conversations: Real vs. Pretend.

After discovering that no one had thrown anything at Ryan, we continued our debate:

Emma: "Maybe they're afraid they'll be tempted by the Devil and start throwing things.

ry: "Why don't we just go over there and just ask them?

Mom: "Naw, they're older and they're boys. You don't wanna mess with them."

Emma: "I had to mess with an older boy today. He was being mean to my friend, so I twisted his arm like this (demonstrates).

"Mom: "So you nun-chucked a 4th grader?" (I have no idea what nun-chucking is, but I'm pretty sure it sounded cool to a 4 and 7 year old.)

Emma: "Uh huh." (Sits. Sighs.) "Good times. Good times."

So that was TODAY. I've yet to touch on What-the-Hell-Wednesday. May I? I'll be brief.

1. Left Ryan's lunch and backpack at home. Had to supplement with convenience-store food.
2. Had a playdate in the sand, which eventually led to an escapade into the wooded picnic area, where Ryan saw an ant and had a nervouse breakdown, nearly throwing her head into a large boulder.
3. Spent 15 minutes trying to chase a bee out of our car, difficult seeing as how all the windows were open and Jaxson's car seat was soaked with fruit juice.
4. Took the kids to the mall to return some items, and Jaxson bit a baby.

Hmmm... yeah, I think that's all. Just your average Wednesday.

Shattered Glass

by Jaxson York.

I don't get mad, I get LAZY

When Shawn comes home tonight and bitches about having to make his own dinner and iron his own clothes, please help me remind him about this morning when he got Jax up at 5:30 am, and then LEFT THE HOUSE.

A little tip as to why I feel mentally ill ALL THE TIME

Scene: Mommy and kids, roaming the aisles at Target. Ryan walks behind Mommy while Mommy pushes Jax. Ryan is pouting about not getting a slushy.

Mommy: Ryan, you need to check yourself or I'm not gonna let you see if Emma can play when we get home.

Ryan: What?

M: I said, you need to chill out or yo're not going to get to play today.

R: What?

M: (sigh) Nevermind.

R: Huh?

M: Just forget it Ry.

R: What did you say?

M: Nothing. Forget I said anything.

R: You're pretending you forgot what you were saying?

M: Christ.

R: What?

...and, scene.

Yee-haw!!

Man, that was rough. I missed you guys!! In fact, I'm crafting some "chunkyrhino withdrawal" items at cafepress -- I'll let you know when they're ready.

I took the kids to meet Menana and Big Daddy at Backstage Steak House last night. Nothing like an evening of screaming, food-throwing, and fork-playing by candlelight. But damn, the food was worth it!!

Now, on to more serious matters:

Ryan wants to act. Like, literally. I've been catching her more and more lately, performing commercials in front of the mirror, acting out little plays in her head, etc... We started talking about it, and she said she wanted to be one of the kids in the commercials on tv, That, and she wants to be in a Harry Potter movie. I broke the Harry Potter news to her, but her spirit didn't waiver -- she still wants to perform.

Now, I'm not at all surprised (nor should anyone be), nut I've been fighting the urge for quite some time now. Having dabbled in the performance arena, I was very wary. Plus, I'll be damned if I live vicariously through a 4 yr old.

But now she's asking to do it, she's always doing it, so does that mean it's time to let her explore that avenue? That avenue being auditions, acting classes, having to deal with inflated egos and demanding divas (and that's just the mothers).

This scares the shit out of me.

Talking Points

Ryan: "Mom, today in Music, G. told me to smell her butt." (giggle)

Me: "Why would she do that?"

Ry: (shrug)"Idunno, I guess she just wanted me to."

Me: "Did you?"

Ry: "Yep. And then she smelled mine."

Me: "That's disgusting."

Ry: "It was fun! Don't forget to tell Daddy when you talk to him on the phone that I smelled G.'s butt, okay??"



Jaxson, in his typical toddler way, is havinf a little trouble with saying his words correctly. For instance:

DRINK = Tink

TRUCK = Guck

And my personal fave:

FATHER = Fucker

He is such a good little boy.

You Better Not Cry

We took the kids to see Santa this weekend. Let's see how that went...


AndHere are the rest of the pics from the Walk of Lights.

Hohoho.

On Not Losing Hope

So. Shortly after that last post (actually, it was 90 seconds), I chopped all my hair off.

I was going to shave it, but I thought that might be more on the side of crazy than I wanted, and I knew Shawn would never speak to me again.

I needed to let go of something. Plus, my split ends were horrendous.

The great effect of this drastic move was not a new haircut, but rather the company of my friend Elisa, whom I called upon to "even out the back". You should have seen the look on her face when she showed up .

Anyway, I got to vent and release a lot of that Mommy crap that builds up (or, as Lea Ann says, "bitterness" -- no one likes her very much) and decided to quit bitching and play. So, the kids and I went to the park, leaving behind a filthy house, long to-do list, and extra diapers.

Here are the pics.

Afterwards, we tried the movies, where it was $1 Wednesday, but as soon as we ran out of candy, Jax was out, soggy diaper drooping, and we were gone.

I then proceeded to attempt a nap, a feat Jaxson was hell bent on prohibiting. So, I locked them out of the house while I cleaned the kitchen (not that it makes it much easier to sweep the floor when your 19 month old is banging on the glass door, snot and tears streaming down his face as he screams "Mommy!")

We got things situated, I realized (too late) that it was the cursed day of the week, resigned myself to the fact that the rest of the day wasn't gonna get much better, and grabbed myself a beer.

I'm feeling much better now.

I Hate the Holidays

I used to love them. I used to get excited and worked up over all the little details, all the special moments, all the lights and warmth and togetherness.

Then I had kids.

With one, it was still fun -- the excitement of fall, the anticipation of family and friends, presents and more.

Now that there are two of them and I'm outnumbered, I can totally understand why the suicide rate increases so drastically this time of year.

Ryan's in school, which means lots of new activities and parties and desserts to be made and treats to be packaged and guilt over not being able to volunteer because of Jaxson, who refuses to accept the term "Sit Still". I love to bake, I love spending time in the kitchen and making yummy homemade goodies. I love giving our creations to our friends and family, neighbors and acquaintances. I do not love how much it costs to purchase all the items needed. I do not love the grocer's exuberance over providing hundreds of foil roasting pans for turkey and such, but no extra foil pie pans. I was THIS CLOSE to having a Steve Martin "Father of the Bride" moment in the store yesterday. THIS CLOSE.

I love spending time with family, I do not love it that everyone in my family is childless, and can therefore afford to do the things we cannot, yet still insist on having us do them anyway. I do not like my inability and unwillingness to say NO.

I love the convenience of credit. I do not love the credit companies.

I love having a clean, inviting home during the holidays. I do not love mopping the floor,then finding it sticky with juice, scratched by rocks, and cluttered with crumbs 10 minutes later. I do not love doing the massive amount of dishes from baking and such, only to turn around and find that the 2- gallon tupperware bowl my husband thought would fit the turkey is now sitting, covered in turkey juice, in the sink. I do not love that.

I love spreading holiday cheer (can't you tell?) by sending treats with Shawn to his employees. I do not love that after a long day of cleaning, re-cleaning, shopping, baking, cooking, and laundry, all my husband can think to ask me is "Did you iron my clothes yet?", and "why are you even making this stuff?"

I love being able to provide a calm, relaxing atmosphere for Shawn to come home to after a bad day at work. I love the clean bedroom, covers turned down in case he wants to rest a bit, the low lighting, etc. I do not love the way he decided to shit all over it by throwing his crap everywhere for me to pick up.

I do not love all the requests for donations I cannot turn down, yet really can't afford. Teacher gifts, aide gifts, "special"(music, pe, worship) teacher gifts. I do not like it when the Fraternal Order of Police calls me to chastise me for never sending in the contribution I pledged. I do not like that.

I hate the people all around you, with their slimy, stinky, rude kids pushing and shoving and running over toes. I hate the commercialism of Christmas, and the fact that everyone completely skips over Thanksgiving. I hate how greedy we all are, how we are made to feel less-than if we don't own EVERYTHING.

I hate "holiday schedules", which throw my entire world into a whirlwind of chaos, leaving Ryan waiting half an hour for me at school because it turns out that yes, they did cancel Spanish class, regardless of what 3 different parents and the assistant principal said.

I hate my dry skin.

But, I hope everyone has a VERY Happy Thanksgiving. Gobble.

Look What We Got!!!

A new camera!! Finally, no more waiting for family and friends to email me pics!!

So, in honor of Amy and Shawn's early Christmas present, here are some photos, which prove that no matter how nice the camera is, if you suck at taking pictures, the pictures will suck.

Running Commentary

Lately, Ryan seems to be more verbal than normal. I never thought it was possible, but when it gets to be around 5pm and you realize that every discussion you have had with her that day has yet to possess a full sentence uttered without her interrupting, you start to catch on.

She is just so involved with explaining things to you, asking you to explain them to her, and reaffirming your explanation with an explanation of her own that does not quite fit, but works well enough that you let it slide just so she will STOP TALKING.

Mom: Ryan, you need to wear a sweater over your leotard to dance.
Ryan: Why?
Mom: Because it's cold and windy outside.
Ryan: It's okay that it's cold, Mom. The cold is good because it helps planes fly faster.
Mom: Oh yeah?
Ryan: Yeah, the cold is good because it's really windy and blows really hard and fast and that makes the plane go faster.


Mom: Ryan, you need to hurry up and finish eating.
Ryan: Mom, it's okay if I go slow eating my pizza. Know why?
Mom: Why?
Ryan: Because if I go too fast I could make myself not breathe and then I would not be breathing and then I would be dead.


Ryan: Mom, you really shouldn't talk on the phone when you drive. Know why?
Mom: Why?
Ryan: Because you could be talking and not see that you are flying and then we would be dead.

I've forgotten the rest. There're so many, and they are sooooo random, they all begin to meld together.

Oh. Except for this one:

Mom: (reading "Harry Potter" aloud a bedtime) ...blah, blah, Harry Potter, blah, magic, blah, blah, wizard, blah.
Ryan: Excuse me, Mom.
Mom: (extremely exasperated sigh) What, Ryan?
Ryan: I need to get up and throw these boogers away. Know why? Cause they're yucky and gross and they're boogers and I don't want them crawling all over me while I sleep! You know, Harry once had boogers crawling all over him...
Mom: Good night, Ry.

Couldn't have said it better, Jax...

My PMDD has reared its ugly, impatient, pissy head this month, leaving me depressed, sad, and bleegggghhhh. That said, I haven't felt like writing much lately, so I'll just offer up some pics from Wurstfest. Love to you all, and I'm sure I'll have something funny for you later -- it is Wednesday, after all.

Thanks, Mom

So I got a call from my Mom this morning. The kids are at the lake and Ryan wanted to talk to me. As soon as she got on the phone and we had gotten as far as "Hi Mommy!", she started screaming and hollering, to the point that the call had to be ended.

When Mom called me back a little later, she said Ryan had been so excited about talking to me, that she was bouncing around and fell and slammed her face against the hard-wood arm of a chair. They eventually calmed her down, telling her to breathe and asking her to smile, which she refused to do. Finallly, she excused herself from the others, declaring that she needed some "private time" to watch Sponge Bob. Then my mom walked into her bedroom closet and found Jaxson hiding, eating breath mints.

Mom: "Amy? This is what happens when you procreate."

Mirror Image

We all know that Ryan is an actress. So I don't think twice when I see her watching herself in the mirror as she's talking, brushing her teeth, breathing... (But it does bring back some painful, painful memories of the make-believe tv show "Cooking With Kiki" I used to performin my bathroom mirror. Painful, painful memories.)

But I was gobsmacked when I caught Jax, my little BIG MAN, mugging in the mirror as he brushed his teeth, wiggling his eyebrow, slanting his eyes, grinning as if to say , "Alright alright alright. Lookin' good Mr. Kott-air. Yeaaah, baby *wink*)

Impressed at how I morphed him into Wooderson, Boom-Boom and Austin Powers, all in one long run-on sentence?

And no, I don't care.

Does anyone know where I can shop for a nice gently used digital cam for not a lot of money? I have failed to protect my current one from my children, and have recently missed out on many kodak moments like Ryan running around with her shirt over her head yelling, "I'm a crazy scarecrow!"

And while we're at it, how the hell do I save my dvd movies to the computer so I can upload them for you good people to see?

Yes, I am that nerd who's not even cool enough to know the cool nerd stuff.

Alrighty Then

Nothing to sober you up after a night of drinking with the neighbors like having them tell you, as they are leaving, "Oh, by the way -- you can totally see into your bathroom window from our yard. 'Night!"

I Am The Pig

I couldn't have said it better, George. (In regards to Jaxson, that is.) The kid's been leaking personality lately, and more than anything he is turning out to be a pig. Another strike against the pedi -- I distinctly remember them stating that once he hit this age his appetite would decrease. That was 6 months ago and we're still waiting.

He will eat anything that doesn't move, and when he can't find anything to eat, he eats his fingers. His fingers. He's becoming the bulemic little girl I always feared I'd have. Was that too crass, even for me? Seriously, we're having to swat him to get him to stop gagging himself, because along with being a pig, he's double-entendred me and also developed into a ham. We are just now traning him to stop sticking his finger in his nose every time he hears the word. (I'd show you the initial nose-picking dinner video if I could figure out how to save the damn thing on the computer.)

I digress.

Really, he has me freaking out. I cannot stop feeding the child. He begs and whines and grunts and squeals until you give him something, and if you try to be strong and resist, because, for the love of God, you just fed him 2 bowls of oatmeal, a banana, granola bar and yogurt, and it's only 8:30 am, he goes for the jugular. My breaking point is about the time he starts slamming his head into the floor. Shawn can go until Jax starts hyperventilating. I wanna be like him when I grow up.

Halloween is SO last month

This is not like me. I typically mourn the passing of Halloween for at least a week, albeit due to a serious candy overdose. But this year?

This year, Ryan is in preschool, dance and gymnastics. This year we had 5 Halloween parties to attend, 3 where we had to show up in costume.

On top of that, this year I decided to test my limits and hold an inaugural Halloween Cook-Out at our house, instead of our normal "avoid middle-school trick-or-treaters by going out to eat ritual". This is a very run of the mill occurence for us -- we are always having people over to eat, usually once a week, if not more often. But, this was Halloween, Amy's Crack Holiday, and I wanted to "decorate". Me. The former DRAMA teacher.

I had a vision, thanks to memories of Haunted Houses visited as a child and a few back issues of Martha Stewart Living: Halloween. Unfortunately, my vision was most likely completed in days and weeks (not hours), and most definitely required a team of trolls to help set up, shop, construct costumes, and clean (not just me, myself and I). When I was teaching theatre, I had classfuls of trolls ready and willing (read: legally required by law) to help me out.

I won't bore you with specifics, but my vision did not come to fruition. The decor was half-ass at best, Jax's costume (should he have chosen to wear it) was ridiculous, and cleaning entailed stuffing closets with crap that I now get to spend my day sorting through.

This year, we were supposed to be The Wizard of Oz. Out of necessity, Ryan was a brilliant Dorothy (pics to come), Jax was to be Toto (complete wih basket), I was to be Glenda, and Shawn would be The Scarecrow, Tin Man, The "Big Head", or the Wicked Witch of the West -- we were still deciding on MOnday night. I was to make all the costumes. By "make", I mean throw stuff together that I've found lying around the house to pass off as abstract versions of the characters we were intending to represent. I'm resourceful like that.

Ry's costume was awesome, mostly because Ninny bought the dress, and I gave in and bought a wig. Jax's costume started out with great intentions -- weeks ago, I purchased a black sweat suit and fuzzy gray and black yarn to create the Toto look, along with a large wicker basket that we would cut out so he could stand inside it. Over the course of many weeks, I was only able to sew the front panel of the hoodie, and saved the rest for yesterday. By 6 pm, when our guests were due to arrive, i was burning myself with the hot glue gun trying to get the outfit to resemble something furry, scrapping the idea of ears altogether. My hope was that when he was in the basket walking beside Ryan, it would just be obvious. I am nothing if not over-confident.

He hated the basket, freaking out until we removed it, then insisted on wearing the hoodie unzipped, looking like a graying Hairy Man in reverse.

Then Trick or Treaters showed up and Ryan gave them all of our candy. At 6 pm. ALL. OF. IT.

Luckily, Ninny brought more, so we escaped near death there, but then Ryan ripped her wig off, Jaxson tore down the street (half naked), Hunter went on a do-or-die mission for candy, and Jayden was the best behaved one in the bunch. This, my friends, was a night.

Lalo and Jeff brought ANOTHER TROLL -- we'll talk later -- Shawn rocked the burgers, and I spent a lot of time admiring my bloody "REDRUM" finger painting in the hall mirror.

So the food was good, friends were good, fun was had, and now it's over and I have 364 more days to screw around and procrastinate before the next one.