The Not So Good Will

Today, I decide to try and do the whole bargain mommy thing, so I loaded up the kiddos and set out for the friendly neighborhood Good Will store. By neighborhood, I mean the closest one to my neighborhood, 30 minutes away. 

I have friends that shop there religiously and their kids' clothes are always adorable, so I thought maybe I should give it a try. 

Never again.

Before I start my rant about why I will not ever Good Will shop again, let me first say this:

I am not a brand name snob. I do not care where clothes from or how much they cost as long as they are cute and of decent quality. 

I do not get pleasure from paying as much as I can for any article of clothing. I take pride in finding bargains.

I am not a snob. Mostly.

My experience today was like a reject clothing nightmare.

I walk in, and was at first overwhelmed by the sheer volume of clothing. Next I was almost overcome with panic as I noticed that not only were there a million items of clothing to pa ruse through, none of them were in any particular order. Now, for those of you close to me, you know that disarray makes me ill. In my life everything must have its own place. My home may not be spotless, but it is organized. Chop. Chop. Chop. Thats how I like it. Thats how it must be or I have little panic attacks. I'm verging on OCD.

Good Will was a mistake.

I am walking around like a foreigner in a daze, attempting to find the toddler section. I ask the first employee I see for directions, and she kindly directs me "over there." Let's clarify. Over there consists of about 47 racks of clothing containing anything and everything from infant to pre-teen clothes for boys and girls. ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!!??? This place was in serious need of my organizational talents. 

I began my walk "over there" and after about 3 or 4 passes down the isles, was done. My brain could not handle it. 

Not to mention the fact that everything I looked at looked like it had been dug out of some moth-ball laden box in an attic from 1982. I have never seen so many shoulder pads or balloon suits in my life!! EWWWW!

AND not to mention that the place was filthy. The floors, the racks, really everything but the clothes. But shopping amongst all that filth really made me feel like the clothes were filthy too. I couldn't help it! I tried to get past it; I told myself it was fine, anything I bought would be washed anyways once we got home. But I couldn't do it. Any shopping experience that makes me yearn for a shower afterwards is just not for me. I guess I will just stick to the sale racks at the regular stores from now on, and be forced to revel in all of my friends amazing Good Will finds. Oh well.

Just venting

about a month ago my notoriously early rising princess began sleeping in to the wondrous hour of 9 (actually it was usually more like 930). I have no idea why, but I generally try not to question God's little miracles. This was such a beautiful gift for so many reasons. I got to enjoy a bit of quiet time in the morning before she woke up. I got to get a few things done. I could even sleep in if I wanted to, and oh did I want to! Waking up at 9 is a miraculous feat for me (just ask Rob). My whole life, I have been cursed with a sleep cycle that insists upon waking by 7:30am, regardless of the goings on the night before. So for God to bless me with the gift of Bella sleeping in, PLUS I'm sleeping in as well. . . it's nothing short of miraculous.

Ah, but alas, all good things must come to an end. A very unfortunate end. And it has. My beautiful, blissful late mornings have come to a screeching halt.

Beginning this past Monday, the Princess has returned to her prior early rising status. 

WHY???? WHY HAVE THOU FORSAKEN ME???!!!!!

What have I done?? What can I do to make it right again? Give me a sign and it shall be done!

Pray more? What do the muslims do? I'll top that!  Eat worms? Delicious!  Feed the hungry? Call me Betty Crocker. . . do they like worms?

Show me what I need to do to return to good graces and I will do it.

I will be waiting God. . . waiting  here in my comfy bed with my light blocking eye mask for a sign. . . .Could you let my sign be a silent baby monitor tomorrow morning until about 9:30ish please?? I'm really exhausted.

Robby D. Must Die.

Ok so I post about doing our best to be healthy and all that. I then get up from my computer and go to my pantry. Hoping for a wholesome delicious snack. Organic granola or something. Ha! Just kidding. But seriously, I am trying to eat better. I'm scanning the shelves. Hmmm. . . . whole grain crackers? Nah. Crasins and almonds. Not this time. For the love of God, what is that?!?!?! THAT my dear friends, is Tagalongs. A sinfully delicious peanut butter filled slice of heaven. Sent directly to my house for $3 by an adorable girl scout. It is my kryptonite. And Rob brought it here.

Bastard.

I stand there. Willing myself to look away from the box. They aren't really there, you did not see that. But my eyes keep darting back to them, with some sort of strange magnetic force!! I need an intervention!! But I am home alone with two children!!And they offer no help at all! "Yeah Mommy! Let's eat chocolate cookies for breakfast!! It will be fun!" they squeal! Then they begin dancing around me like little deranged Indians (Native Americans for you PC people) chanting, "COOKIES! COOKIES! COOKIES!" 

The force is strong. I can feel my arm reaching out to that wondrous little red box completely against my will! I. MUST. BE. STRONG. 

But alas. It is too late. 

I sit here now, 6 incredible cookies later, grinning like a chocolate covered cheshire cat. Licking the magical stuff off my fingers as I type. 

How can I be so happy, yet feel so guilty all at the same time?

That was so wonderful. And it is all Rob's fault. And now he must die.

Peace Out Man. And Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair.

Ok so about a month ago, something really strange happened. I suddenly became aware, and every concerned, about the ingredients in my children's shampoo.  The stuff could kill you. Really. Do a little research. Well that bled over into concern about MY shampoo, then our body wash, and lotion, toothpaste, hand soap. . . .AHHHH!!! With all these toxins in our products how are we all not already dead!?!?!? So I became a woman on a mission-to rid our home of any unnecessary potential poisons/chemicals. I became a mad scientist, researching ingredients and hunting for the best products to use. It was a frustrating time. I came to realize that even though we live in fairly large city, we are about as far from progressive as one can be. Produce stores laughed at me when I asked if they sold organic foods. Meat markets had no idea what I was talking about. Even the local farmer's market wished me luck in finding organic produce around here! I was stunned! Appalled. And mad. Now let me say that we DO have an organic grocery store within an hours drive of us. But Christ, we'd have to refinance the house just to be able to afford their stuff! Thats the part that makes me mad-why in the world does it cost SOOOO much more to keep your family healthy??!

Eventually though, I nailed down a plan of action and got going. I replaced all of our bath products, cleaning products, and even our dog's food with things made only from organic, wholesome ingredients. Literally EVERYTHING. I  began buying organic only dairy products, fruits, veggies, and meats. It was like an out of control hippie tornado was sweeping through our home! Madness. But we are not stopping there, we are also beginning to recycle! But, the icing on my little beatnik cake, is that this year, we are going to grow our own organic garden! (thanks Dad).

 What?!?!?

 YES!

 We are going to grow our own veggies (and maybe even some fruits), and we are going to do it chemical free!

Good God, what is happening to me! The next thing you know I will be moving my family into a solar powered  house in the mountains made solely from recycled materials and voting for Hillary! AHHHHHH!!! Somebody stop me!!!

(for the record that was a gross overstatement)

BUT WAIT, THERE"S MORE!!

We are also going to begin a small "petting farm" on my dad's land with Nigerian Dwarf goats and a pig, so that the kids can learn about caring for other creatures and have the opportunity to have a wonderfully new, flower-child type of experience.  I'm turning my children into little tree-huggers too! Quick, somebody call DHS!! Rob wants to know when I'm going to buy a loom and begin making our own clothes.

Honestly though, you would think that I am teaching my children some sort of racist propaganda judging by the responses I've gotten from some people! "A little cancer causing chemicals never hurt anybody!" Oh I'm sorry, "a little"?? Well, I actually like my children, so I'm going to go with none-thanks! You'd think people would at least be supportive, even if this wasn't they way to go for their family. After all, I am simply doing my best to keep my kids safe and healthy. I'm doing my best to teach them to love and respect not only their bodies but also the world they live in. And we as a family, are doing our best to try and improve upon the world that ALL of our children will be left in-even those of you who could care less about trees, or chemicals, or water quality.  What is wrong with loving the world that God so graciously created for us!?! I guess its a good thing most people are teaching their children not to value tress, fresh air, or clean water because the way things are going, one day soon, kids won't have any big beautiful trees to play under. And all of their drinking water will come from bottles because tap water won't be safe to drink. Personally, I want my grandkids to know what a real oak tree looks like. Not have to look one up in a book. I want them to have the joy of drinking from the water hose on a hot summer day (all the while, getting soaked while trying their best to make it look like an accident)and not worry about dropping dead on the spot from all the chemicals. I want my grandkids to be able to play in parks and lakes that are clean and safe. I want my children to be able to pick up a piece of produce and not have to worry about scrubbing all the deadly chemicals off before they eat it. I don't want their water to be rationed or their kids to hit puberty at 8 because of all the chemicals added to their foods. 

It seems that more and more people are longing for simpler times, yet few of us are willing to take the extra step to help us all return to those times. Lets go back to the day of right is right, wrong is wrong, and food is safe to eat right off the vine.

All that being said, I have to say I am proud of our family and the steps we are taking. Admittedly, we are not nearly as Earthy as some people, and their are many more things we can do. But for now, we are doing the best we can in this moment, and I am proud of that.

Now I just need to think up our new hippie names . . . . 

His 15 Spectacular Minutes

This Christmas, Granny Karen hit the jackpot when she purchased our Christmas gifts. She managed to snag front row seats to Cirque du Soleil for all of us-her, Mary, and all 4 members of my family. Freaking awesome, I know. So after two months of anticipation, we finally got to go last night. It was fabulous! It started a bit shaky though. Like I said, we had great front row seats. The not so great part though, was that before the show started, there were clowns roaming around "visiting" with the people in the front rows. This was bad for a couple of reasons. 1st: every single member of my family is TERRIFIED of clowns. They are horrendously creepy.  Personally, I think they are all secretly ax-murderers. We hate clowns. Not to mention the fact that these were not just regular creepy, circus type clowns. They were the be-all, end-all creepiest of creepy kind of clowns. Which leads me to reason #2 why front row seats weren't so great. Bella. My little uber shy, little freak-out Queen just about came unglued the second she saw the hideous things. The fact that getting front row seats is a nearly impossible feat to accomplish meant nothing to her. All she cared about was getting the hell away from the clowns! "I want to go up there!!" she screamed, pointing to the nose bleeds. But honey, these are special seats! Only the really special little girls get to sit down here. . . it was a lost cause. Telling her  these things only seemed to upset her even more. She screamed and cried, and looked at us like we must totally hate her to force her to sit this close to the terror. For a minute, I really thought she and I might soon be making the trek up the million stairs that led to the seats she so desperately wanted to be in.

Thank God for Lovey! Of course, good ole' reliable Lovey was right there on the front row with us, enjoying all the action. I finally convinced Bella that if she closed her eyes and put Lovey over her face, no one could see her. It worked. Crisis averted. 

Once the show started and all the "crowd visitors" moved on to the stage, she was fine. She actually really enjoyed the show. The "pink girl" (she wore a pink dress)was her most favorite. She was the singer, providing the soundtrack for the entire show, along with the band. Let me just tell you that she was amazing! Rob and I would pay to go to a show just to hear her sing. WOW!

So, anyways, the show itself was really great. Very unique. Lots of action. If you've never been to a cirque show, you really must go. It's not your typical circus (if you didn't figure that out from the clowns). There are no ponies walking on their back legs or elephants balancing on tiny boxes. Instead, it is more about human performance-feats of balance, strength, agility, and talent. I'm not talking about "stupid human tricks" here, just awe-inspiring acts.

Another thing that is unique to Cirque, is the music and the atmosphere it provokes. Its a very sensual type of experience. Sultry. Hot. The show really centers around the human body and the fascinating things it can do. BUT calm down people, it was still PG rated!

As amazing as all of that was though, it was not the best part. Oh no. Not by a long shot. 

But lets back up a bit. . . . 

On the way to the show, Rob suddenly says, "I just had a terrifying thought! We are on the front row. They always pick people from the front row and make them come onstage!! I will freak out if they make me do that!" Seriously, he was a bit panicked about this. Of course my reply was, "OH I HOPE THEY PICK ME!!!"

Back to the show. . . . 

about 3/4ths of the way through, the mime that provided comic relief between acts started to move towards the crowd. I watched with eager anticipation as he scanned the crowd. The row beside us. . .oh he's so close! Look this way!! I was nearly tempted to start franticly waving my arms around like the idiot kid in elementary who will just DIE if he isn't picked to answer the teacher's question. Then his eyes locked. . .  on ROB!! "He's coming for you!!" I whispered, a bit disappointedly, but I don't think he heard me. He was too bust trying not to throw up as the silly little man approached him, hand extended.

Rob apprehensively shook his hand, and then was pretty much dragged up onto the stage. Bella was screaming in fear for him, but no one could hear her over the roar of the crowd. I finally got her to calm down (Lovey over the face), and Rob's stage debut began. Poor guy, he was so scared up there, he looked like a mouse trapped in a corner by a lion, eyes wide, body tense, ready to bolt at the first hope of escape! 

Basically, the mime would act out scenarios, like sneaking through  a room occupied by an imaginary tiger, and Rob had to copy him. His first attempt was a half-hearted bomb, but the mime quickly let him know that mediocre attempts at mimicry would not be acceptable. After that 1st attempt though, Rob's face changed. He relaxed and accepted his fate as a victim of the mime, and threw himself whole-heartedly into each new skit. It was HILARIOUS!!! He was so completely awesome!! In fact, he was the funniest part of the show! Each time the mime would give him the series of things he was to mimic, he'd do it, but added his own funny tweaks. The crowd went crazy over him! I have to say, I was really proud! 

Everybody that knows him, knows Rob is a funny guy, but this was off the charts! Watching him tip-toe around the stage like a crazed explorer on safari had us in stitches! The "gun fight" was gut-busting! He was so entertaining that he was onstage for almost 10 minutes! That mime should really look out, after the crowds response to Rob, his job just might be in jeopardy! 

After the show, we all realized what a big hit he had really been. People were coming from everywhere to tell Rob what a great job he had done and how hysterical he was! "Hey there's the guy!!" people were yelling to each other as they rushed over to shake the new celebrity's hand. Some people thought it must have been set up because he was so relaxed on stage. HA! There was a big group applause in the lobby.There was even a mad rush of people to get on the same elevator with him. It was insanity! Like the local Will Ferrel or something. I was half expecting a police escort home!

He was so proud of himself! He was beaming the rest of the evening. It was adorable!

So now my baby has gotten a little taste of fame. And he liked it. Boy did he like it. Wonder how long till we move to LA and get jobs waiting tables like all the other starving actors?

Cute things the little Princess is saying. . . .

1. She does voices. This is my current FAVORITE thing she is doing right now. When she plays with her dolls, she does different voices for them. The best one is the male voice. It is HILARIOUS!! She tries the make it so deep and makes the funniest face while trying to do it. It cracks up all up!

2. Great ______ Mommy/Daddy! She says this every time Daddy or I do pretty much anything. If we say "please" she says GREAT MANNERS MOMMY! If Rob (or I) burp, GREAT BURPING DADDY! If I'm singing along to the radio, GREAT SINGING MOMMY!

3. IT'S SO PERFECT FOR ME!!-she says this anytime she gets something especially for her. Her toddler bed, a new dress up outfit, shoes, etc.

4. IT'S SO DORABLE!-(adorable)She says this practically the entire time we are in Target or the mall, especially now, since everything is pink for Valentine's Day. People really seem to get a kick out of this one..

5. IT'S SO WONDERFUL! she says this whenever something makes her happy.

6. HAPPY YOU NEAR!-(Happy New Year)she still says this every morning when I wake her up.

From Little Boy to Little Man

It seems like yesterday that I met him. He walked into the classroom, and I was instantly in love. Shy and quiet, not so tall, but dark, and stunningly handsome. . . He was two years old.
I remember the day that my future son walked into my classroom. I was a pre-school teacher and he had just graduated into my class. He was my favorite from the start. The other kids didn't even have a chance.
Who knew that that chubby cheeked little boy would bring such monumental change to my life.
Fast Forward a year.
I get the honor of becoming his "other" mom. I remember so clearly those round little cheeks and dark brown eyes looking at me as I walked down the isle towards his Daddy. A smile so big on his face that it makes me smile now to think about it.
Through the years, he has grown and changed so much, and so has our family. We've bought new homes and cars, gotten new pets, gone on adventures, and even added a beautiful little girl to our clan. And at the heart of it all, I know I owe it all to Zach.
When people ask me if I feel differently for him than I do for Bella, since technically she is my first child, I always answer honestly. The answer is yes, I do. But don't we all love our kids in different ways, ways that are uniquely their own? Don't we all have special and unique relationships with each of our individual children? Different isn't bad! If I had another child, I would love it differently that I do Zach and Bella.
I love Zach for the child that he is, kind and wonderful. I love Zach for giving me the wonderfully exceptional life and family that I have today. Without him, my life would not be what it is. I would have never met Rob or had Bella. We have always told Zach that it is because of how wonderful he is, that we are what we are. I love him because he is my first child, my first, and likely only, son. I love him for his silliness. I love him for his joy. I love him for his willingness to try anything-from sushi to soccer. I love him simply because he is him.
And now my little boy has grown into a little man. He's 10! While I certainly miss that baby face, I am so proud of the young man he has become. He is kind and well mannered. Always polite. He would never make fun of another, his heart is too big. He's not afraid to have friends that are girls. Some of his best friends are. He wears pink; he believes in being his own person no matter what. But I think the thing I am most proud of is the kind of big brother he is. The love he shows his sister amazes me every single day. He will play Barbie, or tea party, or dress up, or school. He will help her get dressed or go potty. He teaches her her letters. He is amazing. No matter how mean she is to him, and as a 2 year old girl she can be MEAN, he is always patient. He takes his job as a big brother very seriously. He knows that more than anyone else in the world, she looks to him as her example, and he has been the best so far.  Watching him with his little sister, I know that he is going to be a wonderful daddy. And that makes me the proudest mommy alive.

So my little boy is growing up. Yes, it makes me sad. But seeing the young man he is becoming makes me proud to be his mom.

Little Rays of Light

Occasionally, our children provide us with those little "ray of light" moments that really remind us as humans why we do not eat our young. This week has been full of those moments for me.
A couple of days ago, Bella and I were playing, when out of the blue she says, "I love you so much." "Mommy loves you too baby," I replied. Then the part that made my heart smile, "I love you three Mommy." "I Love you three?!!" How stinking cute was that!!
Well if that wasn't enough to keep me smiling, she pulls another one out of her magic hat of adorable things.
I am tucking her in for nap yesterday, bending over her tiny little toddler bed to kiss her good-night, when she reaches up, gently takes my face in her small hands, looks me straight in the eyes, and says, "I love your pretty face Mommy." AWWWW! "I love your pretty face," I tell her. "You're my very best friend in the whole world Mommy," she says and then turns over and closes her eyes. My eyes instantly well up with tears. That has been the very last thing I've said to her at nap and bedtime for her entire life. Now she says it to me.
As I'm walking out of her room, eyes streaming and heart consumed, I sneak one last look at my little angel curled up in her bed. Please God, please let her still feel that way when she is 15. And for the first time ever, I heard God answer me. It was so soft, I barely heard it, but it was an answer just the same. . . . "HA. Even I have my limits."

A night out with Friends.

I don't know that any of this will be funny to any of you. Maybe you had to be there. However, I found it hilarious, and its my blog, so I'm posting it.

After the super fun day we had had yesterday, Rob and I decided that it should end fun as well. Granny Karen was keeping the kids, so we were free! First on the list, decide what to do. That wasn't hard. 1.Its winter. That means its cold. And that means I am avoiding the outdoors as much as I possibly can. 2. Its our city. And that means that unless you like the downtown/club/party scene (which we only occasionally do. In warm weather), there aren't a whole of of options. So we decide on dinner and a movie. Which was fine bc thats kind of our thing. Next, deciding on the movie. Well that wasn't really hard either. Matthew McConaughey and Kate Hudson (two of my most favorite actors) are in FOOL'S GOLD so it was the obvious choice. Done. Side note, movie was horrible. Waste of good time and talent.
Last, do we go alone or invite friends. This one required a bit more consideration. But after careful thought, we decided to invite Jen and Shaun. Meet for dinner, then off we go.
Dinner. This is where the fun began. For starters, we had a waiter named Robert, but Jen decides that he shall be called Jorge (as in the spanish pronunciation Horhey). And call him that we did. Across the room. From other tables. From wherever. Jorge!! Vamanos! Luckily he was a young guy with a big sense of humor, and he answered back in as much spanish as he could remember. He really was a lot of fun. I think one of my favorite things is a good server. It just makes me happy. And Jorge was great!
Then funny thing number 2. The hookers. Not really, just regular girls attempting to look like hookers I think. Apparently that's "in." We are all sitting at the table talking about how completely skanky young girls dress and act nowadays, and how the fact that we are even having this conversation is weird bc just a few years ago Jen and I would have been dressed just like them, and Rob and Shaun would have been checking them out. We are laughing bc now when we see a young girl in a revealing top, we don't want to rush over and ask her where she got it, we want to rush over saying, "oh no ma'am!" and cover her with a jacket. The guys are laughing bc they have realized that they generally no longer wish they could hit on these girls, they want to hurry over and say, "does your father know you wore that out?!" So we are all sitting at the table laughing about our new found maturity when in walk the HITs (Hookers In Training). One has a skirt on that is so short she can't move her legs too much when she walks or her butt cheeks will fall out, completed by black leather stiletto knee boots. Classy. HIT #2 looks fine from the back. Jeans and a tight black shirt. Cute. Then she turns around. WHERE THE HELL IS THE FRONT OF THE SHIRT GIRL!!?? NOT ON YOU!!!
This shirt had a cleavage revealing "keyhole" neckline, more like a pothole if you ask me, that went from the hollow of her neck to her stomach, and width wise went as wide as it could with out getting her arrested! I wanted desperately to take a picture to post here, but she wouldn't stay turned around long enough to do it without looking obvious. So we do the next best thing-talk about it. The guys could not get a good look, and our waiter found it extremely funny that Jen and I were putting so much effort into showing our husband's this girl's boob shirt (they ended up having to take a special trip to the bathroom in order to see it.). The HITs made for great dinner conversation.
Funny thing #3. While we are eating, a couple of young guys sit down at the table beside us. For some reason, Jen felt the need to tell our waiter to look at that "huge nerd over there with his cowboy hat, skater shoes, and preppy shirt on." "Thats my best friend," Jorge replies. No way. He wasn't joking. In keeping with his previous good humor, Jorge yells over to Best Friend, "Hey they said you're a huge nerd for wearing your hat with skater shoes!" AKWARD. Thanks Jorge-there went your really great tip. Surprisingly though, Best Friend was a good humored guy too, and just laughed about the whole thing! Re-instate Jorge's tip.
On to the movies. This was my most favorite funny part of the night.
*disclaimer:Shaun is not a pedophile. That is the entire reason this was hilariously funny. Thats him doing his best to look like one in the black and white picture.
In anticipation of a great movie, the theater was pretty full so the only real place for us to sit was on make-out row. Thats the back row for those of you who didn't date much in high school. So while we are up there being mature about sitting in make out row, in walk more HITs!! And they are going to sit right next to SHAUN!!! As they are walking up though, Jen loudly tells Shuan, "Keep your hands off of them. They are definitely under-age." HAAAAA!!!!
Then, when the girl's sit down next to Shaun, Jen leans over, calmly points to Shaun, and loudly whispers "he's a pedophile." Then sits back like she just told them they were getting the best seats in the house. The girls immediately got up and moved!!!! I thought I was going to fall out of my freaking chair! Rob and I are laughing so hard we could hardly breathe! I typically find myself to be a pretty funny kind of girl. But last night, Jen got the prize. I don't know that I can ever top that one.

The Children Going Round and Round; the Painted Ponies Up and Down.

After leaving the morning party, we decided that we weren't yet ready to go home. So, we took Bella to do yet another thing on her list of top 5 favorite things: ride the carousel. This is also one of my favorite things to do with her. For one thing, it only costs a dollar! Fun for a dollar!! Its unheard of nowadays! But there it sits, in all of its majestic glory directly inside the entrance to the mall. And Bella knows.

"THE CAAARRROOOUUUSSSSSEEELLLL!!!," she screams as we pull up in the parking lot, as if there is exactly nothing else at all inside that building. Then comes one of my favorite parts. "What do I want to ride?," she asks. But make no mistake. This is not really a question. This is her giving you the opportunity to say, "I don't know, what DO you want to ride angel?" Then she thinks. . . . this is a very big decision, and the wrong choice could ruin a girl's day. She must choose wisely.Once she decides, off we go. 

Standing in line at the carousel, I always experience 2 things: sadness and joy.

Sadness because standing there she seems so big. She waits patiently for her turn and never ever tries to run ahead of the other children. She understands that sometimes the animal she wants may already be taken, and she can either wait for it or ride something else (which she usually happily does). She's a big girl, and it breaks my heart.

But joy is there too. Joy because standing there she seems so small. Next to the massive mechanical magic, she looks so little.Watching the carousel go around with its enchanting lights and music, her eyes shine. Her smile is beaming. She can hardly wait. I try with all my might to burn that image of her into my brain, because I know that one day, far sooner than I want to accept, we will not be waiting for the carousel anymore. She will walk by it without a second glance. But for now, we are here. My heart is aching, and yet bursting, with love for her. She is still my baby.

Then the best part. Getting to ride. She is giddy the whole way to her animal. Once you put her atop the wondrous beast, her world is transformed. She is no longer Bella. She is a beautiful Princess riding her fauna through the wonderland that is hers.

She waves and smiles. She giggles and laughs out loud. And for those three minutes, my world is transformed too. I forget about all of the bills, the cooking, the cleaning, the war, the crime, and the hate. For those three minutes, our world is simply perfect.

9:15 Saturday Morning

Wow. Is it today already? I am still exhausted from yesterday. I don't think I quite ready to take on today.

Our Saturday started with a 9:15 am. (yes am) birthday party for a 2 yr old at Pump It up. It's ok. His mommy had really good intentions and it worked out nicely actually. Well, except for the cupcakes. Not sure how good loading the children up on sugar at 11 was for nap time.  :) Didn't really bother us though bc after the party we weren't ready for the fun to end and set out on a whole new escapade, but I'll get to that in the next post.

So the party was @ Pump It Up, an indoor inflatable party extravaganza, which is THE location to have a birthday party for just about any age. It is also probably in the top 5 of Bella's most favorite things on the planet. Just thinking about it nearly makes her head explode.  From the moment we arrive, she is so excited that her voice goes up and stays up at an octave that almost shatters glass. Once they let her in to the magical room of air filled wonder, she is 90 miles an hour till we leave-jumping, running, sliding, jumping some more, skipping, jumping higher. You realize what this means don't you? If you know Bella, you know exactly what it means. It means that we, as in Rob and myself, are going 90 miles an hour as well. Against our out of shape wills. Bella might possibly hold the record for the shyest kid in America;which means that there is not a lot she will do without Rob or me very close by. Most time it isn't that big of a deal. At this place though, unless you are a child or olympic athlete, of which I am neither , it's going to hurt the next day. And it does. My legs feel like I spent the day doing lunges or something! You'd think that I would take that as a hint that maybe I should start doing some sort of exercise and at least attempt to be in shape. No. I take it as a sign that I must avoid Pump It Up at all costs! My health, well-being, and freedom of movement are at stake here!

In the end though a great time was had by all, Bella got to see her pal Lily (thats them in the picture heading in to the party), I got to see Jen, and no major injuries occurred.  And thankfully Bella wanted Daddy to play with her most of the party! Thank God for small blessings.

Life With Bella

Apparently 3 is the magic number. Why? Because now that Bella is about to be three, I am constantly being asked when we are going to have another child. What's wrong with the children I've got??? I like them.
Are Rob and I planning on having another? no. We're good. Thanks.
As most of you know, we had a really difficult time conceiving Bella. It was an extremely emotional roller coaster. And the only part of that ride that I liked was the amazing prize I got at the end.
So here we are, already feeling like we have our own little miracle baby, when I get a real eye opener. Recently, my Dr. eloquently informed me that my getting pregnant with Bella never should have happened, and was, for lack of a better term, a fluke. A fluke??? Not my blue eyed, crazy haired, opinionated little Princess. She is not a fluke. She is miracle. A wonder. An amazement. A gift. . . . A gift that i sometimes search frantically for the receipt to. Is there a return policy??? 

I'm mostly kidding. But I really could write a book about all the things people forgot to mention about raising a girl. When I was pregnant, I had a small library of books informing me of all the weird and disgusting, and amazingly beautiful things my body would experience over the next nine months. I had friends telling me about the things that were too gross for the books. Even a sales lady at Dillard's informed me about a few pregnancy "things" that were so gross I refuse to think about them, much less post them here. Point is, I was informed, I was ready. The birthing process is TOTALLY excluded from that though. No stupid book could have EVER prepared me for it. But more on that in another post maybe.
As prepared as I was for pregnancy, I was completely UNprepared for actually raising my daughter once she chose to exit the comfort of my womb (2 weeks late I might add).
Where did all of my super-informed friends vanish to??? Melissa, you get to plead ignorance here. (She has two sons. I 'm sure they will make it into a post before its all said and done.) There are SOO many things that no one ever warned me about. No one told me that my daughter would be born with opinions, strong ones, like they were gained from knowledge and life experience. How did that happen??!! Osmosis?? Not a soul told me that by 1, she would have developed an attitude that could give any 15 year old girl a real run for her money. I really thought I had until the teenage years on this one ladies. Thanks. No one told me that our home and family would become a Dictatorship-with her holding absolute power. No one told me that I, a strong, steadfast woman, would hunker into submission when the Little Princess's orders were handed out, no matter how berserk they may seem. And the list is only getting longer the older she gets!

I feel betrayed.
Maybe my "friends" never told me for fear that I would check myself in to a "happy place" before the fun even started. Or maybe they thought I would start each day with a mimosa if I had any idea about what was coming my way. OR maybe, and this is what I really think, they get some sick pleasure out of seeing me so caught off guard. After all, they think with a giggle of satisfaction, no one warned me! Why should she have it any easier?? BECAUSE WE ARE SUPPOSED TO BE FRIENDS PEOPLE, THATS WHY!!!!

. . . But she is me. . . in so very many ways. All of her attitude and stubbornness. Her opinions. Her amazingly strong will. Her sensitivity. Her desire. Her love of art and dance. She is me. Her short little legs, her giant, infectious smile. Her wildly deranged hair. She is me.  

And every time I look  into the face that so closely resembles mine, I know that I would never, ever exchange even a second of my extraordinary, breathtaking, bewildering life with Bella.

We Wish to Welcome You to Munchkin Land!

Last night was so scary! We spent the entire evening glued to the tv watching the weather. One after another, tornado warnings were issued. It was insanity! Before Rob got home, I was running around the house trying to secure/waterproof important items (such as wedding pictures, our will, etc) and trying to gather necessities. I had the computer in the hall/storm closet (we have literally over 24,000 pictures stored on it) and wedding pictures, wills, baby pics, etc. in ziplocks. I had the hall closet cleaned out completely just in case we all had to cram into it, which we did, later.
I am also frantically running around the house trying to gather things we MIGHT need should an F5 obliterate our home. Of course there were the obvious things: water and non-perishable food, a flash light, etc. But I was an eagle scout in my previous life. Our safety pack not only contained enough food and water to sustain us through at least a week of complete isolation, but it also contained: crayons and paper (wouldn't want the kids to get restless), 2 ipods, a Psp with movies and games, 2 cameras (in case one broke) and their extra batteries, video camera (to document the impending destruction), small princess toys (for you know who), a ziploc bag with a change of clothes for both my kids, extra socks for all (don't laugh-ask the military, dry socks are important), almonds and other high protein snacks (if we were cut off from all civilization and had to walk to the nearest city we were going to need our energy), Bella's carrier (again, if we had to walk any distance I needed to be able to carry her), and sunscreen (the sun can be a dangerous enemy even in winter). All in a convienient, easy carry backpack. Our safety pack was ready. About the only thing I didn't have was one of those insta-inflatable life boats in case there was flooding, but I'm working on that. Laugh all you want, but when we have a flood and you are trapped on your roof hoping for a helicoptor, don't be asking to get in my boat. I am going to paddle right on by those of you that laughed at me, asking, "So who's laughing now??!"
I can't help it. I'm super paranoid, and as a result, super prepared. Usually for nothing. Which is why everyone, and I mean everyone, teases me about the safety pack.
Of course, no tornado came near our house (but quite a few caused terrible damage not too far from us). Nothing really happened near us except for really bad thunderstorms all night. Which is great! Every now and then though, I kinda wish God would help me out a little and at least make the wind howl or something. Maybe then Rob wouldn't grudgingly roll his eyes everytime I order the family to pack in to our ity bity hall closet like sardines. Seriously, getting us all into that closet is just like playing a game of JENGA. Layered one on top of another, and every leg, arm, and head has to be postioned exactly right or we are all going over.
But back on the "Rob thinks I'm insanely paranoid" topic, he really does think I'm crazy when it comes to "storm preparedness". I just tend to take the weather guy seriously when he says ,"If you are in ____ area, take cover immediately!" I don't feel the need to ask questions. I get in the freaking closet, and I take my kids with me! Rob is so sure that nothing is ever going to happen, that usually, while the kids and I are hiding away, he is out in the front yard looking for funel clouds. All I have to say about that is, when a funnel cloud does appear right above your head, don't come banging on my closet door! My paranoid self and the kids are all out of room, mister! And if by some great miracle you aren't blown away to munchkin land, don't be asking for any of my safety pack supplies either! I was the crazy one remember??

AHHHH!!!!!!

If you have EVER doubted the fact that America's teachers are severely underpaid, try home schooling your kids for a couple of weeks. You just might find it in your heart to pay your child's teacher a little extra right out of your own pocket. No amount would be too great.

Just a thought.

They say "never say never." Not this time.

I hate Barbie. Really. I do. And thats not a good thing to hate when you have a daughter who loves and owns at least half a million of them. Recently, my little darling has discovered the joy of taking Barbie's clothes off and forcing mommy and/or daddy to play fashion carousel at nap and bed time. What is this wonderful game you ask?? It is where Bella strips all Barbies of their clothes and then forces mommy/daddy to dress and re-dress each one in a different one's clothes. Round and round the clothes go, until just the right outfit has made it to it's wearer. It's the best. And it also prolongs bedtime by at least 20 minutes. The bestest part is that when we go in to get her up from bed/nap time, all the Barbies are naked and the game starts over again! WHOO HOO!!! Why do they make the stupid things so hard to dress?

Oh and did I mention, she doesn't just like any old Barbie. It must be a "princess" Barbie. Not Veterinarian Barbie, not Nurse Barbie, or Stock Market Analyst Barbie. No Way! No Barbies with brains at our house. Just Princesses. 

In this insanely PC world we are living in, I keep waiting for a line of "Real World" Barbies. You know, "Teen-age Mom" Barbie or "I'm Only Stripping to Pay My Way Through Nursing School" Barbie. After all, we don't want any kids feeling left out do we??

But I guess any Barbie is better than a BRATZ doll (which is what she is dying to get her hands on!). I REFUSE to allow those into our home. Now, I am a firm believer of "the more you forbid it, the more they want it," but  letting her have a Bratz doll would be like enrolling her in prostitute pre-school!! Those things are so trashy!! With their skanky make-up, collagen injected pouty lips, cleavage enhancing camisoles, and booty shorts-I am positive that teenage boys keep a secret stash of these under their beds!!!

How can you teach your daughter to love and respect her body like the precious gift it is when you are giving her a doll that looks like it just came back from a Playboy 

shoot??!!! (all that being said, I wish I looked half as good in lingerie as these stupid dolls do!)

So anybody thinking of ever buying my little girl one of these, think again. And don't be surprised if you aren't on the next invite list.. . . . . . . . . .

I guess Barbie isn't so bad after all.

Whirlwind of a Weekend

Wow we had a busy weekend!! Friday, Papa kept the munchkin, and Rob and I took my little sister to get her 18th birthday present-a tattoo. She was so nervous, but she did great, and the tattoo looks really cute! Then Saturday, Papa kept munchkin again, and Rob and I went out for a friends birthday. We ate a Ruth's Chris-HEAVENLY!!!!!!! Then headed downtown. Stopped off at Swiggs for a couple of pre-dance drinks, then were off to EP's. Rob and I had so much fun! Of course we always do, even if nobody else is!

Then Sunday night we ended up having a sort of mini Super Bowl party. PapaGigi, Aunt Mary, Nana & Grandaddy, and Ryan & Holly all came over. Papa cooked tons of delicious food and I think everybody had a great time. It didn't hurt that the Giants won :)

The Bowl

18-1. . . .SUCK IT BRADY!!!
GO GIANTS!!!!! Ain't nothin' wrong with a Mama's Boy!!

What's in a Name?

"I'm not Bella. I'm Princess _________."(insert Princess of your choice here. Don't worry, I'm sure she has been that Princess). "You're not Mommy. You're Princess _______."(you know what to do) If I had a penny for every time I've heard that I'd be a rich woman.
It really makes me question all the time and thought I put into naming my child. All the nights I would lie there trying to think of any possible nick-names people might give her, or mean rhyming things kids might call her. We all remember the "Maria Diarrhea" or "Max the Maxi Pad" from elementary school. I even have a friend who named her daughter Micah Rae, who is now called "Microwave." I have nothing against Maria, Max, or Micah personally, but kids are cruel. They need no help finding ammunition when comes to making fun of others. So when it came to naming my own, I really put a lot of love into it.
And for what?
To be told "I'm not Bella, no matter how many sleepless nights you spent thinking of that beautiful name for me, I am Princess Cinderella (or Belle, or Sleeping Beauty). And you are not Mommy, no matter how many sleepless nights you spent hoping and praying for the day you would get that blessed title, you are Princess Pocahontas." HUH???
Other than being forbidden by my daughter to call her a name I love and adore, what's up with me always having to be Pocahontas??? I don't like that name! And is she even a real Princess? If I can't be mommy, the least she do is let me be a good one.
Occasionally, she does give the the honor of calling her Princess Bella and I get to be Princess Mommy. But those days are few and far between.
So all of you expecting mommies out there-don't stress over what you name your baby. They'll probably end up wanting to be called Godzilla anyway.