Somebody Gimme a Gold Star

Not only was I able to just laugh at the scene of Jaxson finger-painting himself and the driveway with his diarrhea, I was completely composed, wiped him off without a fight, and managed to get him to a bath with no argument whatsoever.

I do need to give credit to Ryan, who was a wonderful supporting player in my success, but don't let that diminish the great feat I achieved, which a week ago would have sent me straight to Betty Ford or the Funny Farm, whichever is closer.

The Sweet Escape

I've been a bad, bad girl, I know: not blogging for days, having nothing funny when I do get around to posting, and putting up more photos than you'd prefer.



I'd like to say that I'm sorry, but that would be a lie. It's become excrutiating for me to write about what should be funny moments (like when I spent 10 minutes circling a 6 foot puddle in the Y parking lot, trying to catch Jax as he splashed in and out of the 6" deep water) but which lately just have me curling into a ball and crying.



What the fuck is wrong with me?? Chasing Jax around stagnant water? In my heyday I could've turned that into a knee-slapping 5 paragraph-long post. Where did my sense of humor go? I'm not sure I labeled it, but it's a little dark and twisty and always ready to tease anyone with a pulse; if you see it, could you please return it to me?



And now, for the dreaded photo-of-the-day (an unfortunate trend which will continue until previously mentioned funny bone finds its way back): I've titled this one, "Shawn's Wet Dream". Enjoy.

Can't think of a title as am laughing too hard...

at the shitty-ass spelling/grammer and all-around horrendous typo's from the March 9th post. Sorry 'bout that...

QOTD

Ryan: (as she watches me change out of my bathingsuit) "Mommy, when I get as old as you, will my boobies hang down like yours?"

Don't Even Start With Me (or, I'm sorry it's been so long)

I know, I know. April ended and I went right back to my old habits of not posting for days. That's seems about right, though, doesn't it?

Let's see, we got a dog last weekend, and Ry tooks some cute pics but I haven't had a chance to upload them because it takes an hour on this computer, and realy, who has that kind of time?

Not me, especially after all of the stress pain issues. According to the neurologist, there's not really any reason for me to be having pain, except for the carpal tunnel, which you really can't do much about, so basically i'm screwed.

In terms of my neck and back/shoulder pain, it's begun to cease, as I have worked at de-stressing by cooking elaborate meals for the fam and even making our own bread. Yes, it sounds as though I'd be creating more stress, but I really like it, and I'm good at it, and there ain't much I can say that about, soI'm not gonna go lookin' any gifthorses in the mouth, ya know? (Sorry, just watched the E!THS on Rachael Ray, and now I'm apparently channeling her. EVOO, anyone?)

Ummm, never see Shawn, so that's the same, the kids are driving me crazy, so that's the same, and I've still got those extra 10 pounds hanging on, so realy you guys haven't missed all that much.

I will try to recap the funny for you, though, just 'cause I'm feelin' guilty...

Last night, after I ye;;ed at Shawn for getting home from work way too late, he asked why I was so strung out over the kids. Rather than submit to my first instinct and give him a good old-fashioned Lorena Bobitt, I listed what had occured just within the span of the previous 18 hours:

Ryan continues to talk back, stick out her tongue roll her eyes at me, and completelyignore verything I say. All before breakfast.

Both the kids attack me at 6:30 am, Jaxson literally pulling me out of the bed. Instead of going to the coffee pot, I race after them out the door to try and get the "potty trained" dog to do her thing. After 20 minutes of nothing, we head inside where I see that Jax has shit oozing out of his diapers. Seeing me approach for a diaper change, he immediately rolls around on the carpet, smearing the green crap everywhere.

After finally cleaning out his diarrhea-riddled rear, I head downstairs only to see that now the dog has shit on my carpet, so I deal with that. All still before breakfast.

Breakfast is as usual, both kids begging for their food right NOW, Ryan complaining that Jax got more, Jax begging for juice, Ryan begging for juice, Ryan demanding a different colored straw than the one I handed her, Jax spilling his juice the minute he gets his hands on it, Mommy cleaning up the mess, Ryan demanding the tv be turned on, Jax begging for more juice, Mommy giving Jax more juice, but in a squeeze bottle so as to avoid another spill, Ryan asking for more cereal, Jax asking for more cereal, Ryan eating 2 bites of her cereal refill, declaring herself full, Jax doing the same and whining to be helped down, Ryan complaining about being made to take her bowl to the sink, Jax squeezing out the juice from his sports bottle onto the carpet, em on my hands and knees for the 3rd time that day all before 8am.

Half an hour later, I've broken up 3 fights, 2 between Ryan and Jax, one between Jax and the dog and thrown together a semblance of a lunch for Ryan. Then it's time to wrestle both of the into their clothes and beg Ryan to comb her hair while i attempt to get dressed as Jaxson dismantles the calm, peaceful bath accessories arranged in my garden bath while smearing a stolen tube of lipstick on the walls.

The clock is pushing 9 am and I'm trying desperately to get everyone in the car with all required accessories, making several trips back inside for forgotten backpacks, binkies, drinks and snack for the car trip. Yes, snacks. For the kids who couldn't finish their cereal, they were so full.

We make it o our destination in one piece, and I struggle to get both of them into the school, where Ryan throws her backpack at me and runs to her friends, and Jax hits the surrounding classrooms, literally kicking down toys and laughing before moving on to his next target.

I blow kisses at Ryan, search and rescue Jax (and the toys he's escaped with) and make it back to the car by 9:45, dragging Jaxson behind me with my left hand, because according to the "doc", I should really try to avoid using my dominant Right hand whenever possible. I make plans with a friend to take the kids to the bouncy place after school (it's half-price day), and venture back to the house and the waiting list of things to do.

By the time we get back, it's about 10:15, so I feed Jax another snack, put on a cartoon and start cleaning the kitchen from the morning's breakfast debacle. At 11 I put him down for his nap, fighting the urge to lay down as well, and continue my Cinderella chores until 1 when I get him up to get in the car to fetch Ryan.

We retrieve Ry from her classroom, I heft Jax like a football in my left arm, and we make it to the parking lot in record time. Then Jax takes off the minute I set him down to unlock the car (damn those manual locks!) and crawls into a storm drain to hide from me.

Seriously? You try dragging a 30 pound monster out of a storm drain using only your left arm in 80 degree humidity. Do it. I dare you.

I finally wrangle him into the car and the int's off to the mall and the jumping place (and, hopefully, so peace and quiet!) Except, I don't really get to visit with my friend 'cause her kid is potty training and goes twice in her undies, in between the 7 bathroom visits they take while the other kids jump and i watch. Lonely.

I decide to get up and jump with the kids for a bit, mostly because that'll be the only workout I get that day, but also cause I'd love to actually enjoy my kids once in a while. We have fun, but mommy gets tired, so its out I go.

10 minutes later, Ry and her friend come running ahead of another mother who is carrying a crying Jax. Seems as though he got his ass kicked by a little girl. Sweet. Shawn'll love that.

We eventually make it home after again having to drag/carry a screaming, kicking Jax through the mall, and I usher the kiddos outside so I can get started on dinner (aka: drink). 2 minutes later and here comes Ryan, eager to tell me all about how Jax dumped out Shawn's bag of coal for the grill and is throwing it at her and the dog. Sure enough, Jax comes stomping in seconds later, black hand just a reachin' for Mommy.

i clean him up, and send him to the playroom to play with his cars, while Ryan continued to play outside, regaling the neighborhood with her own rendition of "Copa Cabana" (we named the dog Lola). As I'm preparing the fish, I look up to see Jax sticking pennies in the gas outlet by the fireplace. Lovely, lovely.

It's now 5:30 and I don't want to even look at my kids anymore, much less interact with them.

I finish the dinner a little after 6, break up 6 or 7 more fights, and the 3 of us sit down to eat at 6:30. Notice I said the THREE of us -- Shawn's still not home, and today was an "early" day.

We finish our meal, I put Jax to bed, and not 5 minutes later his Father walks through the door. Of course he does.

I hand over Ryan, clean up the kitchen, and then wait for him to come back downstairs so I can vent.

So that's it. That was yesterday in a nutshell, today was just as good, but it's now after 11pm and I've got to be up to do it all over again at 6:30, so you'll have to wait til later to hear Wednesday's story.

Trust me, it's worth coming back for.

Something to Make Us (me, anyway) Smile...

*can you smell my heart melting?*
Caught in the act of...STUPIDITY ("Where'd the rest of the damned cork go? Another wasted bottle of wine..."
And now I know I've been cai=ught, so I just smile and nod, smile and nod.

He's gonna kill me. Both of them.

"'schuze Me Ociffer Bar...I'waz shjust goin' home.. (hiccup)"
I'm not even gonna try to guess what was going on here

ROAD TRIP!!
Sweet Baby

I Learned It By Watching You

I'm thinking of using this humorously-remembered phrase from the 80's on a new product at chunkyrhino. Ironically enough, Shawn just sent me here to watch the "Children See Children Do" video on YouTube. Now that quote isn't quite as funny, especially as I'm watching Ryan yell and scream at Jax, just like I do. Or when I reflect on how the childcare people at the Y commented last week on what a bully Jax is becoming, and then I see him, Ryan and Shawn roughhousing to the point that someone gets hurt.

We used to do that all the time, and while it may be all in innocent fun, someone does always get hurt, and the effects tend to last longer than you'd think. In my case, I still feel the knee-jerk urge to hit, even after all the therapy I've been through. I'm not blaming anyone, I had amazing parents, but when I think about the things I do and when I hear myself say that I don't want them to turn out like me, I have to stop myself and think, "wouldn't it just be easier all around if I made ME better, so they could learn to be like ME without it being such a bad thing?"

If only the desire were the hard part. I struggle with dealing with my "makeover" every time they start yelling or kicking or screaming, and then I boil up and start yelling and I see that my best intentions are just that -- intentions -- unless I work harder to make them reality.

If our kids aren't worth working harder for, what is?

P.S. I still kinda think the T-shirt quote is funny.

My Head Is Killing Me

Literally. Apparently, all of my ailments of late can be traced back to my head. From stressing out to clenching my teeth, the fact that my neck is out of alignment and the upper portion of my cervical spine tilts the wrong way, adding 20 pounds to the weight of my head, not to mention the fact that we sleep on a 20-something year old mattress. All of the above is why I can't feel my finger tips anymore, and why I feel like someone has a vise permanently gripped onto my funny bone.

In my efforts to solve this problem, I have been on no less than 6 doctor's visits over the span of a week: Chiropractor, Acupuncturist, Certified Massage Therapist, Neurologist. They all have conflicting ideas as to what it is exactly (skeletal/ muscular/nerve)that's causing the pain, each one insisting the problem lies within their area of expertise. They at least do all agree that whatever it is generates from the head/neck/upper body region, they just all attribute it to different causes. Fun with docs!! I have an MRI scheduled for tomorrow morning, so that should be nice and claustrophobic, and then I'm scheduled for a multitude of follow-ups, so I'll be sure to keep you guys posted.

You'd think with all this medical attention I could get some sort of pain medication, but so far all I've been prescribed is Neurontin, the neurological drug that controls seizures and convulsions. Now Honey and I have something else in common! Soon, I'll be talking to dolls and challenging the toaster to a fight. I'm actually very excited.

Jax and Ry go to the ENT tomorrow morning, to check on Ry's lack of hearing and Jax's raging infection. I'm really looking to forward to that one, as well. Can't wait to hear what type of surgery they'll insit we schedule asap.

Jaxson is still waking at night, though not as often, and now it's gotten to the point where it's really kinda funny. The dude (all ultra-thick 30 pounds of him) blockades himself against his door during his wailing fits, which is where he inevitably ends up sleeping until I go to move him, which is a dance of it's own, where I find myself cracking the door just so, enough that I feel the dead weight of his meaty little frame, but not so much that I pinch his arm or leg under the door. Then I have to get down on all fours, and maneuver my hand through the crack and back around in an attempt to nudge him away enough that I can slide in without smushing him, which is continually becoming an even bigger ordeal seeing as how I've gone ahead and managed to add 8 pounds to my meaty little frame over the course of the past month.

Once all is said and done, I feel super-triumphant, until I accidentally step on his head in the dark and then the whole high-wire act I just performed is rendered pointless. Such is life in our house.

Ryan had her dress rehearsal in acting class today, and she did a great job, except for the fact that she kept her costume pulled down over her head and when she did look at us, she did so with her tongue sticking out. She knew her lines and her cues, but we didn't really hear them as she whispered most of them and Jax was laughing and pointing at her, yelling "Funny!" the whole time.

And it was. It was.

New York, New York

A funny thing happened on the way to the mad house...

I gave my friend Angie a purse I'd bought in New York, and when she went to use it the other day, she found...my CAMERA!!! Apparently, I had put it inside the purse for safe-keeping. I am so smart.

Anyway, you can check out the full collection of pics here.

Meanwhile, I took some great video of Ry at her Spring Performance yesterday, but I've got to charge the camera so I can upload them. If it ain't one thing, it's another.

Stay tuned...I have lots of funny stories of my escapades with "doctors", Jaxson, and this horrible pain that just won't go away.

Earth Father

I pride myself on being as "green" as possible. You know how I love my organics, and my non-toxic earth-friendly cleaning supplies, but I was outdone this past Earth Day by Shawn, who decided to plant a sweet little oak tree in the gaping privacy-hole through which the perverted minister who lives across the way likes to peek at me while in my undies making breakfast. But that's neither here nor there.

Shawn planted a tree!! Woohoo!! And in the time-tested tradition of photo-documentation, we have decided to map the growth of our 3rd child along with our other 2, as seen below:

(The tree is that sickly little skinny thing Jax is itching to yank out of the ground, in case ya didn't know...)

Off-Topic Tuesday

(Yes, I do realize how dangerously close I'm getting to using cute catch-phrases for all the days of the week on this blog. I have contacted the necessary officials and the matter should be cleared up shortly.)

Anyway, I was listening to Air America this morning (aaghh! run & hide -- chunkyrhino is LIBERAL!), and while I usually stay away from politics on the blog (which as those of you who know me understand how hard that is for me, but also how necessary; heart attacks run rampant in my family, no need to stoke the fire) I felt compelled to write a little about a topic they were covering this morning.

Actually, it's not even a political issue per se, just a national issue, and one I'm surprised hasn't surfaced on a national level earlier.

The talk show host was mentioning an email he'd received from a listener who also happens to be a commander in the Armed Forces, commenting on how although he understands and supports the rationale behind the national show of support for the citizens who lost their lives last week at VA Tech by flying the flag at half mast, he is confused as to why no one flies their flags at half mast every time we lose a soldier overseas in the never-ending pissing game that is the war in Iraq.

I was awestruck at what a simple yet symbolic act this would be as a way of showing support for our troops, and flummoxed by the reality that no one has done this sooner, at least not on a national level.

Why not? Why not show the same support to the kids who lose their lives on an almost daily basis, fighting in the name of our country? I'm not sure why it's not already put into practice, but I don't see why we can't start now.

Let's talk to our employers and the places of business we frequent who fly the flag and request that they honor our fallen soldiers from now until the end of the war ( no timetables, please -- we wouldn't want to put any pressure on the "Decider") by flying their flag at half-mast. Let's start a grass-roots movement! (YeeHaw!!)

It might not be huge, but it's doable. It's something. And it's (gasp!) NON-PARTISAN. Red, Blue, Green...we all understand the sacrifices being made, let's at least unite by honoring them, without worrying about which side is right or wrong.

Otherwise, what's the point?

Sister Mary Ryan

I thought it was bad when I picked the kids up from Angie's the other day (she was watching them for me while I visited an acupuncturist/chiropractor about my injury) and she told me she caught Hunter and Ryan smoochin' on the front porch. The same Hunter who we found with Ryan in her closet while she was naked. Yep, that one. I adore that kid, so I guess if there's any boy she should betrothe herself to through her acts of "love", he'll do just fine (and believe me, I do mean betrothe).

But then I found out she was flashing her girlie-parts to Hunter and his brother Jayden on the porch, as well. And now I'm considering sending her to nunnery. And no, I'm not kidding.

I am mortally freaked out, and it's taking all my strength to keep from showing my freaked-out-edness, so as not to "make a big deal" of it.

I was the prude of prudes, terrified of kissing, even in college -- I was just insecure and scared, scared, scared. This must be something she gets from her sexually-promiscuous father, who is away at work so much that unfortunately the act of disciplining her for this type of behavior lies on me, the one who for years masqueraded her ginormous chest so as not to give boys any reason to pay her any "dirty" attention. And I do mean "dirty".

I am seriously hyperventillating, and checking out everything from The Sound of Music to The Flying Nun, in a last-ditch effort to save her from what is surely the path to stripperdom and prostitution. Seriously. Seriously.

Bedtime Story

These days, the only time I can get Ryan to be nice to Jax is generally if he's hurt himself and she decides to Florence Nightengale him, or when it's bedtime and she wants to take over as "Mommy". Hey, I'll take it where I can get it, so I'm happy to let her take over. Especially when I get to hear stuff like this:

Ryan had picked up one of her old books, "Hush Little One", and decided that that would be the book she would read to him this evening. After asking me the name of the book, she went about the task of "reading" the pictures:

Ryan:"And the birdies hush, and the rabbits hush and the deer hush, and now Jax you hush, too.."

to which Jax replied, "...three."

I may be the only one laughing, but I don't care.

The Circle of Life

Okay, so here we are again, illness dumped on us like the tons of chains cascading on the bad guys in that movie of movies, "Twins".

Shawn's down with strep, the kids have genetic diseases lurking all around, and now I've got nerve damage that would take your breath away.

Seems like we just can't resist bringing it on all at once, huh? There's got to be a hidden meaning or something in that. I've just removed myself from some major drama, thinking I would be able to breathe and relax and enjoy life more, only to open the door to this mess.

I know one moved out of the way to make room for the other, but would it be a crime to ask all of the wolves to just take a vacation for a month or two? Would that be so bad? I hear Hawaii is beautiful this time of year.

Lil' Miss Ryan Had a Farm...

Over dinner just now, Ryan up and declared, "Whew! I sure am tired from milking that cow!"

"What cow?"

"The one in the backyard."

"ummm, is this an invisible cow?"

No, Mom. Look at the treehouse. I pretended the top part was the cow's body, the posts were its legs, the rope hanging down in the middle is the cow's weiner--"

"You mean tit?"

"Yeah, whatever. The sit and spin was the stool and I used the pot from the crawfish boil to catch the milk. I've even got my trusty milking boots (proudly displays rainboots)."



Ilooked outside, and sure enough, there was the sit'n spin, and the pot under the rope, and you know what? It took a minute, but I could TOTALLY see Bessie out there just waitin' to graze...

Fun with Neurofibromitosis

Right, so remember how I told you at the kids' doctor appointment they were comcerned with their cafe au lait spots (nee "birthmarks")? Well, just in case that wasn't enough to stress a mommy out, let's just take it to the next level, shall we?

Got a phone call from the ped yesterday saying that due to the fact that even though the disease may not run in the family, the gene can mutate or something, so they want us to go ahead and see the geneticist, except be warned: "she's kinda cold, not at all "warm and fuzzy", and we have a really hard time getting her notes from patients we refer, so after you see her, could you call us and tell us what she says?

"And by the way, the disease can also cause nodules to grow on the eyeball, and since Ryan had trouble with her vision screening, why don't you tale her to an Opthamologist rather than an Optometrist so they can really check out her eyes and see what's going on."

Sweet.

Well There You Have It

We took the kiddos to their 5 and 2 yr appointments today, respectively.

Ryan did amazingly well with her shots, but they can't figure out why she doesn't have full hearing in her right ear, or why she and Jax have so many large, light-colored splotches on their bodies. Apparently, that's a symptom of Neurofibromitosis, although Shawn says "we always called 'em 'birthmarks'". Regardless, they're a mystery.

Speaking of which, the mystery of Jax's "stinky ear" has been solved. Seems it's nothing more than a big ole nasty raging ear infection. Which is what Shawn has been predicting for about the past 2 months. Which means if this thing is a nasty monster, it's fault for dismissing the ear infection idea. Which means you can mark me up even higher on the MOTY list.

Apparently, Shawn never speaks his appreciation of me because I don't do anything to deserve it. The clothes he needs never seem to be clean, nor is the house; I can't get Ryan to stay in her bed or stop talking back; I rely on take out much more than a stay-at-home mother should; and now to top it all off, his instincts regarding the kids' health are better than mine.

It's lucky that I come equipped with a vagina, or he might as well just put me out with the rest of the unused crap we throw away twice a week.

Too much going on. Head close to explosion.

Yikes! Looks like I'm not as good at keeping up with this albatross around my neck, um, I mean, blog, as I want to be! Sorry, Chaika!

We had such an insane week -- one of those that you know must have been bad because nothing actually got done and you can't remember half of what you did.

Let's see...Wednesday, I eliminated Jax's naps, and the sky came crashing down.

Thursday, we went to the Round Rock Express Game, but only after I screamed for an hour at Shawn due to lack of sleep and his preference to go play golf over coming home to relieve me for a much-needed nap (see Wednesday) and the stress of finding all the red permanent markings Jax had drawn on the walls, stairs, furniture, decor, etc...

Friday, Shawn was off from work, and spent the day mulching the lawn while I mopped the floor, cleaned the kitchen, and scrubbed the bathrooms. We finally managed to get to dinner around 8pm with Nana and Shawn's Uncle Kevin, a dinner that started out lovely but ended in a freezing monsoon.

Saturday was Jax's birthday, and Shawn and I stupidly decided to celebrate with a crawfish boil. In 57 degree weather. For the first time. Long story short, after waiting 3 hours for the pot to boil outside, we finally decided to bring the boil into the kitchen and played musical pots with the 37 pound of crawfish we'd bought. Once we finally got everything cooked, the meal was great, though we'd lost 1/4 of our guests and had to eat huddled over the table, shrouded in fleece and sweatsuits. Nevertheless, Jax had a great time, got way too many gifts, and finally slept somewhat through the night (only woke up at 5:30!!).

Sunday was Fredericksburg with Shawn's family, where every store we wanted to visit was closed, but we did manage to spend ample time in the local brewery, where Jax entertained all with his rebel ways and new mowhawk (yes, I did!)

Today we've got shots for both of them, so I'm certain you'll have a much more humorous post to look foreward to this evening.

Cheers!

Unabashed Product Placement

Some new stuff at shopchunkyrhino -- check it out, and for the Love of Lucifer, give me some feedback!

(I, for one, think the she-skull baby looks like she's got a 5 0'clock shadow, but Shawn thinks it looks great...)

Ranch is the new Crack

For Jax, anyway.

I thought I was bad, using Ranch as my dip of choice for every chip imaginable. I could eat the stuff on anything, and in fact, was known to put together a tasy cure for my midnight munchies in college: croutons and ranch in a bowl (don't knock it til you've tried it).

But I am Nothing, NOTHING compared to my son. I took the kids to Chili's tonight for our own little date night (Daddy's working), and as always, we ordered chips &Ranch, with extra Ranch for Jax. Now, I knew he had a liking for the stuff, but I had no idea how far his addiction goes until I looked over and saw him dipping his crayons in it, then sucking it off.

Laughing, I pulled the crayon away and handed him a chip instead, thinking what a cute little side entry it would make in my next blog post, when I turn to him again and *choking back gag reflex even as I type* found him drinking the Ranch straight out of the ramiken.

I shudder. I don't recall o.d.'ing on the stuff while he was in the womb, but I must have done something wrong, because that ain't right.

The Mommy Drew Mysteries

Do you moms ever feel like you are a real-life detective, solving mysteries left and right on a day-to-day basis? Just last night, as I embarked on the "Search for the Refrigerator Leak", I realized how many of these mysteries I find myslef "solving" everyday.

Just yesterday, there was "The Case of the Missing Binky" (a recurring episode in our household), not to be outdone by "The Mystery of the Broken Toy", or "The Case of the Wayward Husband Who Can't Put His Dirty Clothes in the Hamper".

I swear, we moms could unite and start our own detective agency, kinda like "The Babysitters Club", but without all the crimped hair and day-glo clothing.

Who's in?

Discipline Dilemma

So, Shawn grounded Ryan yesterday for lying. That's our #1 no-no here at Casa de Dysfunction, so I was totally behind his decision to punish her until I found out he grounded her for a week, and was very explicit in laying out the terms of the grounding:

1. No TV
2. No Playdates
3. No books at bedtime
4. No songs at bedtime (the child cannot fall asleep without listening to her radio at night)

Fuckwah?? Hello! Mr. Mom, next time you decide to interfere could you check with me first?? You don't see me running to your restaurant and firing every bad employee I see, do you??

No TV for a week? Fine, I can work around that, we watch too much as it is. No books at bedtime? Again, it makes me a little sad, but okay. The song business? I feel her pain, but she shouldn't have lied, so maybe as she's laying up in her bed, counting crayon marks on the ceiling, trying to fall asleep, she'll actually spend some time thinking about why she's got no music, and hopefully that lesson will stick with her. Fine.

But NO PLAYDATES?? Who do you think I am, Ghandi?? My week is managed through playdates -- I network via playdates, the way you guys "make deals" on the golf course. I work two child-based side jobs, how the hell am I supposed to do that when you've forbidden my child from playing with other kids for a week?

Exhibit A: The Morning Meeting Playdate: This occurs when I need to meet for Mommy and Me, and instead of begging or (gasp!--paying) for childcare, I arrange a meeting/playdate so the kids are occupied while the mommies do business. Which, FYI, I've got one this very morning at 10 am AT OUR HOUSE. Your answer? "Keep her in her room while the other kids are here." Fine, but what you also don't understand is that she's my Social Director. She keeps the kids going so we don't have to break every 5 minutes to give them ideas on what to play next. Good one, Dad.

Exhibit B: The New-Mom/ Friend Playdate: Do you not remember me tellng you I was looking forward to having a playdate with the new people we met at McDonald's last week? The one who has more in common with us than any other kid/parent combo we've yet to meet? Yeah, that one. Looks like that's out the window...

Exhibit C: The Cocktail Hour Playdate: No, we don't drink at these (but that's not a bad idea...), but they do provide the benefits we used to reap from those alcohol-induced gabfests where we girls hash out all the troubles with you men, and that, my friend, is invaluable time spent - invaluable.

So you see, not only have you grounded our little fibber for the week, you've also grounded me, and let me tell you, I'm not that happy about it, and you will be hearing from my lawyer, Mr. Jaxson T. York. Good luck with that one.

Cooking with "Kiki"

Right, so I'm pretty sure I've mentioned my once-upon-a-time cooking show host alter-ego, Kiki. Turns out Cooking with Kiki is about as entertaining as Cleaning with Children...

My grandmother handed down one of her old French Acadian cookbooks, and after allowing Shawn to peruse it, he got his heart set on having Crawfish Pie. "Not a problem," I say, "I'm 1/2 Cajun, it should come naturally." That, and I have the recipe, which you would think should be enough.

You would think.

I have this funny little habit of reading (aka:skimming) everything very literally, not always using that tool most handy to cooks around the world: common sense. So I get to the store and proceed to the Seafood counter to purchase 3 lbs cooked crawfish. Not because it calls for 3 lbs of crawfish, but because I also have a funny little habit of not fully reading (aka:skimming) recipes before I shop, and thus have misunderstood 3 cups to mean 3 lbs. Please don't ask.

Fine fine fine. But wait -- it's Good Friday -- they're all out of cooked crawfish, and Amy gets suckered into buying the uncooked kind instead. You know, the LIVE, creepily, crawling, bugging little-eyed mudsuckers that my sisters and I used to watch, fixated, as they boiled to their demise in our grandfather's huge boiler. Those uncooked crawfish. Ryan about shit herself.

She's not yet been totally inaugurated into the Cajun family history, and as of yet, is still a bit unfamiliar with the cuisine and the fun it entails. No time like the present for a good history lesson, right?

So I excitedly order 3 lbs of the buggers, completely disregarding the fact that I've never personally boiled crawfish before (there must be instructions somewhere that I can skim, no?), and carry on with my shopping list.

Next up is "a bunch of shallots". Hmmm...I'm pretty certain shallots are onions, I think they may look like chives or leeks, so I make my way to the produce section. And I'm looking, I'm looking, I'm looking...no shallots listed on any of the signs...I could ask the produce guy standing right next to me, but that would mean admitting I don't know something, and that is not allowed in the make-believe world of "Kiki". So I turn around and peruse the bulbous-onion side of the produce section. Ah, yes! Right there, little mini-onions labeled "Shallots" -- except, wait, there are two bins with different sized mini-onions, but only one sign above them. Which do I get? The baby one or the bigger ones? And what constitutes a "bunch" of these things? Christ on a Cracker, I guess I'll just have to get some of each and cross my fingers. (That's usually a good plan when cooking.)

Luckily, I have my wits about me enough to grab some boil seasoning before leaving the store, and arrive at home ready to fly my coon-ass colors.

Woopsie Poopsie, I just realized that the recipe called for 3 cups, not 3 lbs...and how do I know how many cups 3lbs of uncooked crawfish will yield?? What if we have a huge influx of unused boiled crawfish just lying around?? And, do you think they could possibly have had pre-cooked, pre-packaged crawfish meat somewhere in the store, and I just didn't look hard enough? Hmmm....


Anyhoo, here I am trying not to flip over this tiny snafu, ignorantly thinking we can just eat the rest of the boiled crawfish, not taking the time to even attempt to Google the conversion of pound live crawfish to cups cooked. I'm a rebel that way. It gives you guys something to laugh at.

I go about boiling the mud-spitters, completely ignoring the instructions to rinse in cold water and salt to make sure they're nice and clean...that probably only pertains to the real Cajuns who pull their own crawfish out of the ditches and swamps, right? Yeah, probably.

Okay, perusing the recipe, and, huh. Time to pay the piper regarding the whole "bunch of shallots" business. I know! I'll call Mom -- she'll know.

(10 minutes later)

Some help she was. she couldn't answer one of my questions. Cajun-smajun. Fine, I'll just Google "bunch of shallots" and see what I find.... Okay, here is a whole mess of them grouped on a vine-like thing like grapes, but surely they can't mean all those onions. Let's see..oh, wait -- here they are! And whaddya know -- they're just like green onions, but with little white bulbs at the end. Slap my mouth and call me Fred, my initial instinct was right! Too bad I didn't follow it, guess I'll just send Shawn to get some at the store. That should only take AN HOUR.

Right. So, the crawfish are ready for me to de-meat them. Unfortunately, I boiled them for 15 minutes, which is about 10 minutes too long, so even if we had enough to eat straight out of the shell, they'd just be nice and soggy, and no one wants soggy crawfish. Also? 3 lbs of crawfish yields ONE CUP of meat. Yikes. The recipe calls for 3 cups. Oh, well. Live and Learn.

I'm not giving up! I'm not giving in to this screaming banshee in my head telling me what a failure I am! I've just spent 3 hours prepping the ingredients for this damn thing, and we will eat it whether we like it or not!

Fortunately, everything is better with Cajun spices and salt and pepper, and although it turned out to be more of a crawfish-flavored rice pie with crawfish bits included, it was still good. Plus, now I know all kinds of things I didn't before -- like what shallots are and the conversion from pounds to cups of crawfish, and you can't just learn those things from, say, the Internet or--oh, wait....Never mind.

Laissez Les Bon Temps Roulez!!

Cleaning with Children

First of all, that's a paradoxical statement if I ever heard one. Second, I never knew how fun it could be, given you use the correct materials. Clarification? Non toxic, organic, Greenpeace -certified cleaning crap.

I love the Method cleaning line at Target. Not because I'm hell-bent on being earth -friendly (although I am), not because I'm worried about the health of my kids (although I am), but because the packaging is so pretty! I love the sleek design, the scented window cleaner, and the wood wipes work wonders on my otherwise uncleanable wood floor(plus, when I'm done with the bottle, I can take the wrapper off and use it for something else -- what, I'm not sure, but it will most likely come in handy some day...)

That said, after yesterday, I love them even more for the one reason I should have loved them in the first place : non-toxic. Why? Well, you would sing the praises of non-toxic cleaning supplies, too if a)your 2 yr-old excitedly licked the dinner table every time you sprayed it with the all-purpose kitchen cleaner, and b) amidst lectures and warnings to only use the wood wipes on the wooden table, you turn to find your 5 yr old wiping her face with one of them.

Like I said: it's all about the non-toxic, baby.

...And the Band Played On (aka "What the Hell Wednesday")

Shit just keeps gettin' better on our end, peeps. Took Jax with me to Ryan's kindergarten registration, and now I'm pretty sure we'll all be blacklisted there from now until eternity.

He did okay at first, sucking on the lollipop that they attached to a balloon for him, following the BIG BOYS around, chattering and nodding his head. I was amused to the point of literally being tickled, until he took off for the janitor's closet, and they started bringing the students in for lunch, which meant we had to get up and get out.

Not quite through with my paperwork, I gathered everything up, chased him away from the mop bucket, and herded him onto the cafe-gym-itorium stage where I attempted to coax him to calmness with crayons,. I should have known better, and am constantly amazed at how naive I am when it comes to my son. Of course he's gonna start marking the stage, of course, he's gonna see how far he can jump off the stage, of course, he's gonna let his balloon go and then scream until I climb onto a chair to retrieve it. And this is only 30 minutes in.

We finally make our way to the real line, which is oh, about 12 people deep and serviced by only 2 office staff. In other words, we were looking at a wait. I'm used to this, I don't even blink when he runs around in circles, or puts his feet on the wall, or shock of all shockers -- tries to grab more balloons from the rainbow jungle they've got set up right on front of us. Not even a blink from me, until the elementary mommy mafia start in on him, staring, whispering, laughing...Still, I barely bat an eye. He runs, I chase. He grabs a balloon, I take it back. He heads into the front office to massacre their files, I push them back in an orderly fashion. Same old, same old.

Or not.

At first, all the parents in line are chuckling along, marveling at what a "wonderful ball of energy he is", but then, when he actually puts one of the wrapped lollipops in his mouth, the facade cracks. "Why don't you just give it to him," Mommy Mobster #1 sneers, "he's already put it in his mouth anyway, we can't hand it out now."

"Oh, sorry", I mutter, all at once cut down by her tone and glare. So I unwrap it, hand it to him, and sit him against the wall next to me, where he lasts all of 3 minutes before heading off down the hall again. This is when Mobster #2 approaches me, wielding crayons and paper. Bless her stupid little heart. "Thanks," I smile, thinking, "yeah, right."

I make an effort anyway, sit him down at the wall, put the crayons in his hand, and point him towards the paper. Not 5 seconds after I'm back in line, he's attacked the floor with crayola, and has his feet banging against the quintessential elementary sound-proofing attempt: the carpeted walls. The Mommy Mafia is sitting on the other side of said wall, and all 3 of them quickly come about to see what on earth could be causing such a ruckus. Hmmm, I wonder...

Right about then, Mobster #2 grabs one of the office staff, whispering and pointing in my direction, coming up for air to glance at Jax and say, "We're going to go ahead and move you up in the line so you can get him out of here." Great, just what I need. As if I'm not annoying enough with my own personal little Tasmanian Devil by my side, now I get to cut in front of all the other tired parents who've been waiting longer than me. Perfect.

So up we go, Jax trotting along, me walking with my eyes downcast, mumbling apologies. Then? Well, then they make me wait at the front of the line while the Office Gestapo finishes with the previous parent. So now I get to stand there in front of my child's peer's parents, as they burn my face into their brains, remembering me as the ONE WHO CUT. That should help us make friends.

Meanwhile, Jax hasn't taken a beat -- he keeps right up, attacking the copy machine, being shooed away by Mommy Mobster #3, lurching at balloons that they have left everywhere, dumping crayons all over the floor. So here I go, chasing him around this 12x12 room, making a complete fool of myself as a parent and a human being, giving the people I've pissed off even more ammunition to use against me, when my friend, who I've also cut in front of, but in the worst way -- she was the next in line -- asks me if she can take Jax for me.

I have great friends. I really do, and most of them are always willing to try and help out when needed, but the problem is, I want to keep my friends, and with Jax, it's a crap shoot. I tell her that it's okay, I'll just hold him while I wait, but then he starts hitting me, and rather than spank him and scream, which, you know, is what I do, I look at her and hand him over. So now, not only have I cut in front of her, I've now handed her Satan's Minion to hold while she waits even longer.

Finally, it's my turn to face the Gestapo, and if you thought the staff at the DPS was bad, you need to visit the office staff on kindergarten registration day. If I hadn't already been pissed off at everyone around me, I actually might have been scared. She pulled one of those, "I'm so irritated I can't even talk to you, I'll just gesture until you figure out what I want" moves, which I love, and which really just sealed the deal for me right then and there. All I needed from her was a snap in my direction, and we would be researching Private Schools right now.

Once she finished assassinating our records and my dignity, I moved over to the nurse, ready to get outta dodge, only to be told that Ry still needs one more MMR. Another point for MOTY!!!

I get all the instructions, and then she mentions that if I want to stop by the PTA table to buy supplies early, I am welcome to. Sure, then maybe we'll all get naked and dance the hokey-pokey.

I walk off, eager to grab Jax and get home so I can discipline him properly (relax, I just put him to nap), when the PTA Gang starts calling out, Ma'am! Ma'am, wait!" I turn with a look that can only be described as :ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?? I'd just stood in front of these yahoo's for 20 minutes, chasing down Jax, and now they think I want to subject myself and the rest of the room to more torture? Are the masochists?? I had been on the fence about joining the PTA, what with all the cattiness and gossip I so abhor (outside of my family and friends, that is), but I'm pretty sure that after today, I'll be declining any invitations they may absent-mindedly extend.

Next year's gonna be a hoot, I can just FEEL it.

Bad Mood Dude

Oy vey. I'm not sure if it was the 10:30 pm fight with Shawn last night (I moved his sock drawer without asking him -- ladies, this is a bigger deal than you think - BEWARE), the midnight dealings with both my kids, or the fact that due to both of the previous incidents, I ended up sleeping on the couch. Whatever the reason, Mama Ain't Happy...

Already inundated with trying to get the house back in order ( you'd think it would be easier, but then again, you don't have a Jax ), having to register Ryan for preschool, setting an appointment with the radio sales people for Mommy and Me, figuring out when we'll be able to meet for Mommy and Me, seeing as how we all have kids and no free time, an A/C that's broken AGAIN, and having to get Ry to and from school this morning without murdering anyone, the last thing that needed to come across my desk was the email from a woman whose belongings I have because 1)she left them where I was mistakenly, 2) she didn't come get them from their original location when she said she would, 3)I'm way too nice and agreed to hold them at home for her.

Apparently, she lives on the other side of Austin from us, which means she's, like, 15 minutes away*massive eyeroll in progress*, and feels that's too far to drive. So she's been asking me to hand over the stuff to Shawn to take to work 'cause it's right by her house. He doesn't want to do it because he's Shawn, and cannot be bothered with mundane Mommy-shit, and I really don't want to make him because it's a $4 bag of crap that she should just get off her keister and come pick the shit up for the love of all that is holy.

Let me be clear: I do not know this woman from Adam. I was doing a favor for a virtual stranger, who can't read instructions and screwed up, and now it has come back to bite me in the ever-growing ass. Last week, when Shawn declared his unabashed non-willingness to help me out, I told the woman that he would not be at his location for the rest of the week, suggesting she pack up her mini-van and drive the 15 miles to my house to pick up the items. That was Wednesday of last week. Since then, I'd heard nothing until today, when I finally received a one-line reply stating: "Will he be there this week?"

So now I'm just right there at the edge of "let's go wield a large rifle and hunt a bitch down" (please know I'm kidding -- this is not a threat on someone's life -- sheesh), and I don't know how to handle the situation. Should I lie and say that he won't be there the rest of the year, that the Texas-based BBQ establishment has setup digs in Namibia and he'll be away for a while, or should I just tell her to suck it up and come get them from me, I dare you, or should I turn the other cheek and just ask for her address and deliver them myself?

I know what I should do, but when does "turning the other cheek" turn into " becoming a doormat"? WHERE DOES THE MADNESS END???????

"Wah-Wert"

This is how Jax says "water". Since so many of you commented to me on how funny it is that Jax only says "truck" instead of "car", I thought I'd throw a few more at ya:

Yesterday Shawn was talking to one of his "workers" (as Ryan calls them) in spanish on the phone, and there was Jaxson right next to him, "yidda bolah boody abba nana..." I hate to admit it, but his version of Espanol sounds better than mine.

Also, Ryan and I were writing Thank-You notes from her birthday (I made it within a MONTH -- I really should get a ribbon or gold star or something), and the last one was to Emma and Addie who live next door. To preface, we had been outside the day before playing with the girls when Ryan "accidentally" spit water on Emma (she insists it was accidental, but as you can plainly see by my ubiquitous quotation marks, I have my doubts). Anyway, there we were making out the cards, she dictating while I wrote. Here's how the card went:

'Dear Emma and Addie,

Thank you for my present. My Daddy plays with it all the time in the bath. J/K I love you guys. You are my very best friends ever. I'm sorry I spit on you, Emma. '

Unfortunately, I think it was one of those events where you really had to be there and hear the connotation in her voice, but let me just say that she had Shawn spitting water himself when he heard that one.

I just went to get the kids' birth certificates (under 2 years for Jax -- again, someone send me a cookie or something!), and while trying to coax Jax into obeying while waiting in line, I bribed him with some chocolate-covered altoids. He loves those things, but has a nasty habit of holding them while sucking the chocolate off, resulting in getting more chocolate on his hands and face than in his mouth. I usually don't sweat this, since by now it all just blends in nicely, but when he went diving hands-first for the newly-printed $22 birth certificates, I quickly removed him from the counter, only to turn around and watch him attempt to attack the other unlucky line-waiters with his hands, crying "Methy, methy!!" (that's messy, messy for you toddler-impaired folk.) You never saw a line of people disband so quickly -- the armed guard should use him next time the have to break up a rally.

Invisible Children

Menana had her 15 minutes of fame last night. Our local cable news station interviewed her and her students on the work they've been doing to support the Invisible Children campaign. I'm so proud of her -- and she looks cute, too! Check it out here, then check out our Invisible Children products at shopchunkyrhino -- you may not want to buy, but someone you know probably will, so send it along!!!

This One's For Chaika

Normally I would attempt some funny but inappropriate April Fool's Post, but my dear friend Chaika, whom I did not call for her birthday, regardless of the fact that it's 5 days before mine and she traveled all the way to Austin this weekend to celebrate MY big day, has demanded that I post every day, rather than this once or twice a week bullshit I've been eeking out the past couple of months. So, out of pure Catholic guilt and because I love her and because I miss you internet people, I will be posting every.single.day. from now on. For the next month, anyway.

Anyway, my Big 3-0 came and went without a hitch: we partied with Ragweed and Robert Earl Friday night (despite babysitting snafu's and reported tornadoes), Shawn took Jax and me to breakfast on my b-day, followed by a shopping spree, Ry came home from her friend's house, we all took a 2 hour nap, got up and drove to the lake to greet my party guests and my bed-ridden mother. The woman is a Saint (or a Martyr, depending on which of her children you are talking to -- she insisted we carry on without her, stating that all she needed was to be able to hear us having fun in the next room; that would be enough for her. Christ on a Cracker.)

Anyway, we had a wonderful time, but truly showed our years by all turning in before 11 pm. Some people are SOOO Lame.

So now it's back to the grind, attempting to find time to clean this monster of a house while playing with the kids, exercising, making dinner, fixing the yard, updating chunkyrhino, and designing new tee's. Phew. On top of that, Ninny has knee surgery tomorrow, and I will be happily accompanying her home. Wish her luck and send your love to Big Daddy, who we think has managed to contract the disease that had Menana waylaid all weekend long.

She shoots, She scores

Back to normal, huh? Pretty much. 11pm last night the a/c vent and a portion of our garage ceiling began leaking. Suuuuhhhwweeeetttt. Fortunately, the Circle of Life works it's way around, even into our crazy household: we just got a check in the mail from Jax's ear surgery over a year ago -- a refund for a payment I spent days declaring I had already paid, only to be told, "Too bad, so sad..." So I guess it was meant to be, or something karma-licious like that. Except now it reminds me that we still owe my folks $1200 for the extra expenses we incurred way back then. Here's hoping they understand!!

I've also been receiving requests from people for specific designs on chunkyrhino, which is great, it's just now I have to, you know, FOLLOW-THRU. I did just add the cutest baby skull w/binky, which I may end up altering to add crystals and stuff...take a look and let me know what ya think!!

Plus, Friday night we have tickets to see the Greatest Band in Recent History, along with the Granddaddy of Texas Country, which is so exciting except for one small catch: no sitter lined up for the kiddos. I would normally love to take Ryan, but I'm just gonna have to admit this now: I WILL BE PLASTERED, and knowing Shawn's record with Ragweed, I'm guessing he'll be 3 sheets to the wind as well. Probably not advisable in the Parenting 101 Handbook. So now I'm scrambling to find help with the kids...

Ryan's new bed is creating more headaches than I ever anticipated, as we haven't found a good *cheap* mattress to fit it yet, so she's still camped out underneath it on her air mattress.

She was so funny this morning -- I was trying to cut out a milk jug for her to use as an Easter basket at school -- many thanks to those creative teachers for demanding I attempt to cut molded plastic into an actual SHAPE, btw. Anyway, I must have looked perplexed as I shoved the knife in and out, because while watching me, she declared "All the other Mommies did it, I'm sure you'll do okay, Mom. You'll be fine." She also informed me that the fact that we were late getting it in wasn't my fault (though it was), that it was her fault for not reminding me. At least I can cross that off of my list of things to teach her.

Jax still won't sleep on his own, so we're back to laying out pillows, blankets and extra binkies on the floor near his door so that when the time comes for him to pass out from pure screaming exhaustion, he'll at least be comfy. I really am MOTY.

Back to LIFE

Life is slowly getting back to normal this week...I'm steadily putting the house back in order, the kids are coming out off their Mommy-withdrawals nicely, and I cannot stop gushing about how really awesome Shawn was this past weekend. I know you may be wondering if it's really me typing right now, but seriously, he's been awesome. Either he's remembered how much he loves me, or he's doing something naughty behind my back... I choose the former.

Ryan got her new bed all finished up last night, and now I've just got to set about the task of re-decorating her entire room. Steele gray tubing bed frames don't really scream "Shabby Chic" the way the rest of her room does. As if I need another reminder that she's growing up -- last night we were playing Barbies and she told me I had to play the "Hot" boy at school. HOT. Hot?? Nonononononononono.......

Along with Ryan's room, other areas in the house are in need of attention, especially since my trip to Honey and Pappy's left me with heirlooms. So there's another project to add to the list. (and one I'm very happy to undertake!)

chunkyrhino has really taken off, and I got the best response from the moms-to-be at the Mommy and Me Baby Shower this weekend. We've got our website reserved (thanks Jeff) and now I've got to slowly piece it together, or get someone else to anyway(thanks Jeff).

On top of all this? My 30th is Saturday, and I'm so excited! Can you believe??? As much as I've pissed and moaned about it this past year, I'm really pumped and can't wait to be OLD. (Especially since they're throwing me a party at the Lake and we're gonna see Ragweed on Friday -- anything can be fun if there's beer involved, am I right?)

Still can't find my camera...

...but here's my fave pic so far from NYC!!

(You have no idea how much it cracks Shawn up to see his M.I.L. sippin' on a 40)

400 Dollars

That's how much I've spent at the Mommy and Me Sale so far this weekend. And we haven't even had the 50% discount day yet, either. oops.

Other than the minor coronary I'm suffering at having to explain to Shawn how I spent more at the sale, rather than saved more, I've actuallly been having a great time this weekend. The New Mom's Baby Shower and Mom's Night Out Event were both major successes, and the crowds just keep coming!! When people are trying to sneak in free advertising by canvasing the parking lot during your event and leaving flyers in the bathrooms, you know you've done something good.

If you 're anywhere near Round Rock tomorrow, you've got to make a stop at the Dell Diamond to check out the last day of our Spring 2007 sale -- select items will be 50% off, but they will go fast, so bust a move and get there when the doors open at 11. Don't wait too long. I'm serious. We close at 2, and they way my dogs are barkin', I'm likely to carry you out the doors myself if you're not done shopping by 2:01!!

D'ya miss me??

Hi. I'm Amy. I write this quirky little blog about my life and my family, my kids, my mental breakdowns, etc... Have we met??

Got back from NY on Monday at 4 am. Up with the kids at 8, working on Mommy and Me ever since. I'm sorry to be so short and vague, but time's a-waistin'.

NY was snowy (woohoo! Spring Break! Yeah!!) and all I got are a couple of knock-off bags and fallen arches,swollen feet, & lots of blisters. I went form over function. Big mistake. Big. HUGE.

I'd love to show you pics but I've misplaced el camera, so I'm gonna have to wait for Jet Blue to find it, which you know, should only take a year or so, being JetBlue and all.

We saw WICKED and cried (natch), gave food to homeless people (and cried), and saw the worst comic ever and would have cried, but were saved by this dude.

I missed the kids and only felt guilty every time I spoke with them, Ginger or Shawn -- apparently Jax is much worse than Shawn was, Ginger now understands why I drink, and Shawn, well, Shawn was Shawn, but without someone to make fun of.

Our trip to SAK's left me feeling like the ugliest 30 yr old to walk the planet ("See how this cream diminishes those horrible wrinkles all over your face???"), but I had the last laugh -- I let them make me over to their heart's content, all without telling them I did not have $125 to spend on any cream, I was saving it for my fake Louis (which, by the way, all the Asians in Chinatown no longer carry). Suckers.

We had an amazing view of the Empire State Building out our hotel room, which came equipped with HBO and life-like 5th ward residents mulling about the sidewalk. Not scary at all.

I managed to get us lost in Chinatown, Little Italy, and Times Square, but by the end was able to properly direct some tourists to the R line going downtown, which is more than I can say for the subway attendant.

We didn't make it the St. Patty's Day parade (did I mention it was 28 degrees?), but we did drink and we wore green, so we felt okay about it. Especially since Lea Ann and I managed to flash the city of New York from our hotel room -- it was like St Patrick's and Mardi Gras all in one!

We had the best cabbies ever, giving us advice on where to get the best deals, what the NY "rules" were, and all about what a fraud Guiliani is -- our kind of men!!

Then came Sunday, and while we didn't do Breakfast at Tiffany's, we did take a carriage ride through Central Park, had a hot dog from a street vendor, and ate Godiva inside Trump Tower.

Then it was time to leave (did I mention we flew JetBlue?). Our flight was scheduled for 9pm, got delayed to 9:40, then 10:10, and we finally boarded at 11pm, and taxied until midnight. Fun was had by all.

I love my mom and my sisters, I'm so glad they helped me go on this trip, and I certainly couldn't have done it without help from Shawn and Ginger with the kids. Lots more happened, and I'll be sending quips your way soon, but I've got inventory to enter for the sale, so I must say goodbye for now. Ciao!

Happy Birthday Ryan!!

I can't figure out how to embed the video, so you'll just have to click here. Sorry it's so dark -- the objective was to get the candles, but I was too late...The white blob jumping up and down? Yep, that's Jax.

And now I'm off to the Big Apple so you may not hear from me for a few days...don't wait up!!

How'd I Miss That One??

So here I am, cleaning out my desk, trying to finish up all my Mommy and Me stuff before New York, when I come across a note I had written myself about a conversation Ryan and I had. I don't know when it took place, but it doesn't really matter -- the message is universal:

Me: (looking at a drawing she made for me following a session in Time Out) "Oh, I see. It says you love me and you wish you hadn't said you hate me, right?"

Ryan: "Well, no. It says, 'Goodbye Forever'."

Naturally.

Who Says You Can't Go Home?

Just got back from a road trip with Menana this afternoon. I've been desperately needing to visit Honey and Pappy, and I am fortunate enough to have a husband and MIL who were more than willing to watch the kids so that I could go. (Of course, now Jax wants nothing to do with me and Ryan's spending her 2nd night straight at Ginga's, but who's complaining?)

We stopped overnight Friday in Tomball and stayed with my very own Mrs. P, who welcomed us with open arms and lots of vomit. (She teaches 2nd grade. There was a bug going around. You understand.) Luckily, the ralph-fest didn't start until much much later in the evening, so we were able to get food, drinks, and chatter in long before she took her leave.

We went to out usual chow spot, El Corral, which I insist we eat at every time we pass through town with the hopes of running into my old frind Ed whose family runs the place. You know how sometimes there are just people you connect with? He's one of mine. Anyway, I finally got to see him and had such a good time talking about his family, gabbing about mine, and making plans to meet again. Chaika met up with us a little later on, which Shah was supposed to do as well, but skanked out on me at the last minute. Whatever, I got to drink so all was forgiven.

We did the girl thing and talked and talked and talked...and talked until after 1 am. I love that part of being a chick. I don't even remember what we talked about but I was happy and stress-free for a consecutive number of hours, and for me that's pretty freakin' fantastic.

We took off the next morning for Port Neches, and when we finally arrived, the flood gates opened. It's so hard for my mom to go home and not have her mother waiting for her at the door, and it's so sad to see Pappy all by himself, much less to later find that he no lnoger sleeps in their bed, and now wants us to try and take any of her things we may want before he begins selling it off. She's still with us, but he's accepted that she's not coming home again....I can't even imagine. They've been with each other since they were kids.

The tears came in waves, but in between there was a lot of laughter. My favorite part was when Pappy saw that his next door neighbor had let their dog shit on his lawn. Again.

"No problem," he said. "This happens all the time. I just throw it back onto his yard." At which point he marches into his garage to get his "shit-throwing" stick. He's so into it, too -- making noises, shooting little dog-poo torpedos as far as they will fly. And they did fly. One flew it's happy little ass all the way onto the neighbor's roof.

"Oh shit, Pappy! You just threw the poo on their roof!"

"What was that?"

"The poop. It landed on their roof."

(chuckle) "Well whattya know? Wonder how that dog got all the way up there..."

I LOVE this man.

Seeing Honey was hard, and I knew it would be, but there's just not really anything to prepare you for the tidal wave of emotion that washes over you as you first catch sight of the woman who used to sing to you and read to you and cook for you, now laying paralyzed in her bed. That's hard, man. That's hard.

She's still got some of her fire, though. She's got no qualms about snapping at us that we're being too loud, or telling Pappy to get a move on with her food, or informing you that she loves it when her sister visits, but that"she talks too much." She's got that wit and that's what I remember, that's what I take with me. She's still in there, underneath the weakened legs and limp figure, she's still givin' us hell.

There's a woman across the hall from Honey who I can't stop thinking about. Her name is Mrs. Theriot and she just had her leg amputated after the doctors found gout in her big toe. She's in so much pain and shock -- asking us "Why didn't He just take me?" and showing us her stump, crying, "This is all they left me. This is it." I'm tellin' ya -- if you have any ounce of faith or spirituality in your body, please send up a prayer for Mrs. Theriot -- she's gonna need 'em.

So anyway, we spent the rest of the time catching up and going through stuff in the attic and in drawers and closets...it's just so weird. I know I'm bringing you guys down, but I can't get it out of my head...

But now we're home, the kids are well, Shawn's sleeping on the couch, and I've got a kitchen full of dishes to tackle. Ohh! I almost forgot -- Welcome to the World, Beckett Moore! My girl Lyndsey had her first baby and I'm so happy that now she'll be able to begin suffering with the rest of us...:)

Quit Yer Bitchin'

Lea Ann says I've been sucking at this blog business lately. Thank you, I KNOW. I haven't seen Shawn in 2 days, I had Ry's teacher's bday to coordinate, a house to keep moderately non-toxic, 1001 things to do for Mommy and Me, and I've become the hunch-back of Mommy-ville with all the computer time I'm logging this week. Whew. Complaining can be soo exhausting, right?

Anyway, here's what's up: We had a Mommy and Me event at our local Chick Fil A Tuesday night. The cow was there. Fun was had.

On Wednesday I had the top layers of my two index fingers removed via our dvd player. Don't even think about asking me the how's or why's. All I feel like saying is The Little Mermaid is free and we've since been watching CARS non-stop. And now I'm more certain than ever that this family is electronically cursed.

Today was pretty okay until it was time to deliver Ms. Laura's gift. How cute is that anyway? The kids gave us words describing her, we made a design and put it on a tote bag and filled it with gifts from the kids. ANYWAY, while waiting for the class to return from their Texas Day activities, Jaxson decided to go balls-to-the-wall Destructor on me, attacking other children, breaking into nearby classrooms in order to ransack any and all toys not secured to the wall or floor, then led me and the 9 other mothers waiting in the hallways on a wild goose chase, wherein I broke my flip-flop and thus ended up workin' it hillbilly style in my bare feet. (No worries, I'm from Tomball -- I'm quite used to the hillbilly look) Once I did finally manage to locate and secure the rebel package, he managed to finally successfully fling himself out of my arms and onto the floor. Thank God he landed on his head -- that thing must be made of steel and covered in bubble wrap. Also? He's advanced from slapping my face when angry to pinching me on my cheeks, arms, back, etc.. Little tiny pincer-like pinching. So that's neat.

Anyway, I'm tired. My back hurts, and my brain stopped functioning 10 minutes ago.

Later.

P.S. Here's a pic of my bare foot driving home from preschool. Apparenetly, no matter how swamped I am, I always have time to take meaningless pics of myself while driving. I am that cool.

I Did It! I Did It!!

An homage to Jaxson, and his declaration of success everytime he does...anything. He's realy very cute about it, throwing his hands up in the air, jumping up and down. One day I'll figure out how to work this computer-thingy and I'll be able to post audio, until then, use your imagination.

In related new, I DID IT! Ladies, want your hubby to be a better helper at home? Want him to show some empathy for the hard work you do all day, regardless of the fact that you don't get paid shit? I have the answer: Threaten to get a job!! I used this tactic with Shawn the other night, and boy howdy, how the tables have turned! He even mopped up the floor after dinner last night! I got compliments on dinner, time on my own (without the kids!!), and not one complaint was muttered all day long.

I'm serious, girls. It's the new miracle pill -- tell your man you are giving him 3 months to prepare to step down in his current job, because you are going back to work, and watch the fun begin!!!

When the Shit comes MARCHing In

Last year it was January. This year it looks like our month of hell will be March. Fitting, since that's when EVERYTHING is happening.

I'm so sorry I haven't posted in so long, but like I said...March walked in and I bent over.

Friday was average, I guess. I had the kids signed up for Family Friday at the Y, thinking Shawn and I could get a few hours alone to just, umm, sit. Funny Mommy.

The drop-off went well, but then I didn't see Shawn until just before 6. One of my favorite bits about being married to a restaurant manager is the way they are never able to make plans with anyone other than the restaurant. She is my husband's mistress, and she and I are fixin' to throw down. Except for the whole "Sugar Mama" aspect of it -- I kinda like that he gets paid to be with her, so I guess I'll shut up now.

Two hours with no kids, so naturally we stayed home, drank beer and watched Def Comedy Jam -- not a complete waste after all.

We picked the kiddos up, stopped for ice cream, and had a semi-slumber party in our bed, watching Open Season, and delivering Jax to his bed when he just wouldn't sit still. All the while, Shawn's in his Blackberry, texting his managers who have all gathered at a bar and are requesting his presence. Too exhausted to do anything with me, but he can go out till 3 am with his WORK buddies who he sees, like, ALL THE TIME. Whatever, I'm an awesome wife, so I just smiled and didn't say a word. That's what the blog is for.

Saturday morning hit and the rush was on -- Ryan and her friend Chloe were having a joint birthday party at the mall, and I still hadn't put together the gift bags or wrapped either of the presents. I have no idea why now, but we had decided that 10-12 was a good time to have a party, so we needed to be out of the house by 9:30am. Did I mention that Shawn stayed out drinking until 3 am? Yeah, I don't know why I'm still under the mistaken impression that whenever he's home I'll have help. My life will be so much easier once I realize that he just increases my child:mom ratio to 3:1. Needless to say, we were late and I was stressed.

Oprah devotee that I am, I've really been changed by the whole "Secret" thing and Law of Attraction, intentions, etc, and so have been working really hard lately at sending out positive energy, trying to appreciate each moment for what it is and what it can teach me. Saturday morning showed me that my Yoga classes are even more valuable than I thought -- I was breathing like crazy trying to calm down and stay upbeat, when here comes Shawn with, "Why are you breathing like that? What's wrong with you? You are so weird." Like I said, 3:1.

The party actually was pretty great, and I'm so glad Chloe's mom suggested we do a combo thing, because I'm not sure I could have handled a party on my own this month. The kids had a blast, Shawn watched Jax (which was huge, seeing as how I was ready to let a stranger take him home -- he'd already jumped into the bubble bath that morning after having been dressed), I was finally able to have some "adult" time, chatting with the other moms, when I feel a tap on my shoulder.

"Amy Roberts!" There, smiling at me was my childhood arch nemesis -- the girl who lived across the street and tormented, nay, TORTURED me and my sisters when we were kids. Together with her brothers, they once stole my bike, tried to shove me down the storm drain, bombed our mailbox, and so much more... I'll never forget my mom suggesting I "kill her with kindness", leading to a month of me complimenting her at the bus stop every single morning like the little doormat I was.

"Hi!" I cheerily replied, and we began talking about her baby, my kids, her family, when lo and behold, I looked around and there they all were. All of them. Big Bad Scary neighbors and little 'ole Amy. Have I ever mentioned what a complete wimp I am? My heart was going 100mph, I started stumbling over my words, and all I could end up doing was complimenting every single one of them: "Great baby, nice clothes, cute wife, whatever -- just please don't hurt me!"

It was a sad, sad sight, and one I really wish my sisters could have seen, but not my mom -- Inflatable Wonderland is not exactly the best setting for a Julia Sugarbaker monologue. I love her, but I'm not sure the preschool crowd would understand...

Noon came and we hit the road, a motley crew of four, carrying coolers and presents, balloons and cake. When we finally made it to the house, it was naptime for everyone, since the kids and I had been up since 5:30, just two hours after Daddy got home.

The nap was great, and the kids and I were excited about having cake in the house, so we ate some more while we waited for Daddy to get up. Then we ate some more. and some more. And finally around 5pm, we had to stop because the cake was gone and Daddy still wasn't up. He finally stumbled down the stairs a little while later, asking what all the shouting was for (Jax had been busy, dropping the cake on the floor, popping Ryan's balloons, crying...). Again, 3:1.

Thankfully, Ryan's friends took her back to play at the mall, I got Jax off to bed early and I hit the sheets. Shawn and I hadn't really spoken since I told him he could get his own dinner, so by the time Ryan got back, I was more than happy to let her bunk with me. Big mistake.

It's spring in Austin, and allergies have hit, at least, I think it's allergies. You never know anymore. Anyway, she was up coughing all night long, and when I say all night long, I mean ALL NIGHT LONG. You know it's bad when finally, the nurturing mama in you takes her leave, and all you can do is put the kid in her own room to cough her lungs up so you can get an hour or two of sleep. Meds aren't working, btw -- any advice?

Sunday morning hit, and Shawn didn't have to work until 1:30, so I thought Ryan might want to stay home with him until I got back from teaching Sunday School. "No, I have to leave here at 11:15. I have an early meeting," was his reply. Silly mommy. Just because the schedule reads "1:30-close", I should know better than to assume that means he actually has to get there at that time. After all, on days when he opens, it reads, "5am-3pm", but everyone knows he doesn't get out of there until at least 5 pm. Like I said, I've just got to stop thinking I'll have help when he's home, or that he'll even be home at all...

I manage to get the kids dressed and in the car, I made pancakes for everyone, and we were even early, until I realized I'd dropped my keys under the car seat. Fed up with Shawn, my anger was getting the better of me as I dug around in the sticky nether-regions of the car floor, desperately groping for keys. Then Jax kicked me in the face and it was all over. The positivity had positively run out.

"I SWEAR TO GOD! WHY CAN'T WE EVER JUST HAVE A NORMAL MORNING? WHY IS EVERYTHING SO HARD? WHY CAN'T THINGS RUN SMOOTHLY? AND WHERE THE HELL ARE MY FREAKING KEYS???"

This is about the point when Shawn comes out, wondering why we haven't left yet. "I can't find my keys," I grumble. He then proceeds to ask me where I was when I last saw them.

"You know what?" I say, "this is not the time to start helping. Not when I'm now running late, the kids are crying, and I'm digging through stuck-on food and gum. Not the time Shawn!" At which point I saw my keys, grabbed them, and slammed the car door.

Wanna know his reply? "God, Amy. What's wrong with you? Chill out. I'm going back to bed."

Luckily the church is a ways away, so I had time to calm down, center myself and get ready to teach a room full of 3 yr old's all about God and love.

Class actually went really well, despite the fact that as I'm on the way to church, I get a voicemail from my co-teacher, my friend Angie, that she's sick and won't be able to be there. I am so grateful for that class - I really left feeling much better and renewed, which was needed since I was facing the rest of the day alone with the kids.

Naps were definitely on schedule, as was taking them to the gym so they could play and I could work out, except that when we woke up, Ry wasn't feeling well, so that plan was nixed. Instead, she wanted to play "Ariel". Do you have any idea how much work it takes to play "Ariel" with Ryan? First we have to gather all 11 of her Ariel dolls (please, people, no more Ariel dolls), then she has to tell me what to say, then I have to say it, then she has to say her part, then she has to undress the doll, then we have to sing a song, wash, rinse, repeat. It's exhausting.

But finally bedtime arrived and all went well. Until this morning when I discover that Jax barfed in his bed last night, and I have no idea why. He never woke me up, he has no fever and he's playing like nothing ever happened. I'd have already forgotten all about the puke if Ryan wasn't yelling, "Don't touch anything of mine, you are gross!" and"Get away from me Jaxson, you STINK!" Looks like it's bathtime.

Thanks for letting me vent, I feel much better.

The New Mikey

Ryan: This orange is nasty.

Me: Throw it away, then.

Ryan: Naw, I'll just give it to Jax.