I Don't Even Like Diet Sodas

This is the reason my anti-soda resolution didn't see February.





Damn you soda companies and your limited edition holiday drinks!

I need more!

You Gotta Fight....

For your right to Par-tay!

Apparently you do in Texas.

Why is it so hard to organize a fricking birthday party around here?

When Jacob turned one, the Kroger forgot to put in the order for his birthday cake. Never mind that I ordered it two damn months in advance. Thank goodness I went in the day before to check on it or else he would have been cakeless on his first birthday! Ever since, I am so on top of the birthday crap it ain't even funny.

For Jacob's third birthday we planned a huge bash at G*mboree and paid the bill six months in advance to secure the date. Two weeks before the hugely anticipated G*mbo Clown Fest, we showed up for a weekly class to find the doors chained and a sign informing us that it was closed effective immediately. WTF? Those a-holes took my kid's college tuition and fled town. Seriously. The chick who owned the place went batshit and didn't leave a forwarding address. I went semi-insane myself trying to throw together a party in my postage stamp sized backyard after all the invitations had been mailed out. G*mbo has a starting position on my shit list.

So, Adam has a birthday next week. I found Diego party supplies at my favorite grocery store back in September for fifteen cents a package and stocked up. He's not obsessed with anything the way Jacob was with Thomas (three Thomas birthdays in a row) but he enjoys that show, he loves the color orange and it was all so cheap so he's having a Diego party. Well, that crap was cheap for a reason. Apparently Diego parties are passe. I've been all over town trying to find a place that will bake a Diego cake for me. I can get a John Deere cake or an American Idol cake but no Diego cake. What's up with that? Have the cake bakers not seen the toy aisles? Diego has his own aisle at the Tarjhay for cripes sake. Why is there no cake???? I did find one store that had a picture of one in their grubby little display book and when I finally got the lady there to wait on me and told her I wanted the coveted Diego cake as shown was told simply, no.

Me: I'd like to order this cake please.
Bakery Bitch: No
Me: Do you have the things to make this cake?
Bakery Bitch: No
Me: Can you check to see if you can make this cake, SINCE YOU'RE ADVERTISING IT AND ALL?
Bakery Bitch: (Turns around and rifles through some stuff for half a second) No
Me: I don't need it for another two weeks can you order it from another store because they've done that for me before.
Bakery Bitch: No
Me: Can I speak with the Bakery manager?
Bakery Bitch: No
Me: Maybe you should rip the picture out of your little booklet, Lady, to avoid being bothered in the future Okay then.

Well, I finally found a hoity-toity bakery that will bake a Diego cake for like a trillion dollars and I was able to order it and get that out of the way yesterday morning. I lied to my husband about the price and used the Christmas money my mom gave me to pay for it, but dammit, he'll have that cake!

I was feeling such relief over that expensive cake when on the way home from the bakery Adam said, "No Diego cake Mommy. Shrek cake. Shrek party. No Diego party."

All. Day. Long. he talked about a Shrek party. There would be Shrek and Donkey and Dragon and, Geez Louise, let us not forget Gingy. It would've been nice to know how much he loved Shrek, uh, like last week.

So now I am on the hunt for a Shrek cake. Or Shrek cupcakes. Or some kind of damn Shrek decorations I can stick on his cake on his actual birthday because we have come to that compromise. Diego on Saturday, Shrek on Wednesday.

I think I hate Diego. And maybe Shrek too.

And to think I get to plan another party six weeks from now.

And six weeks after that.

Oh joy.

I Will Not Let The Camera Win

I'm beginning to think it's my camera, ya'll.

It's my camera that keeps me from taking beautiful photographs of my gorgeous children.

I have a Master's Degree for goodness sake. How hard could it be to get good pictures?

Yes, it must be the camera.

Thank goodness Erika's just giving one away this week.

Head on over to Momsational. You can enter to win a Dayrunner calendar system, a car seat, and all kinds of other goodies. Just leave the camera for me, M-kay?

Where Are You Mary Poppins?

I've been so busy this week I haven't even had the time to fix lunch for my kid, much less blog about it.




Adam got tired of waiting for me to finish the laundry, writing thank you notes, organizing a birthday party, nursing a baby, mopping the floor, picking up toys, and scrubbing bathrooms so he got his own lunch today: a bag of chocolate chips. He even cooked them up in the brand new kitchen Santa left for him. Made it all pretty inside.

He will be three in two weeks. That means he won't be doing these kinds of things anymore right?
.

I Think I Hear Taps Playing

It's a bad picture, two years later and I still haven't completely figured the camera out, but can you see that?

Do you see what that is?


Why, that's my first born's littleness lying dead on the hallway floor.


There was a time not so long ago when Thomas, that cheeky engine, ruled our house with an iron fist. If a new friend came to town we dutifully marched to the store and brought him on home to join the rest of Sir Topham's Sodor crew. If he was on clothing, or dinnerware, or bath towels, or snacks, we took those home as well. It was all Thomas all the time in our house since Jacob was eighteen months old.

I saw this train, Billy I think, while Christmas shopping and I was so taken back by the fact that there was a new train and I hadn't preordered it or been stalking it online for weeks. I'd never even heard of Billy. How could that be? So I threw it in my cart and patted myself on the back and imagined the thrill Jacob would have finding it in his stocking Christmas morning. A new train! His favorite thing!

Well, here lies Billy.

Fourteen days after Christmas lying unopened on the hallway floor.

I can remember Jacob's second Christmas when he would open nothing else upon finding Santa had left trains and a track. I remember his third Christmas when we had to open every. single. train and read every. little. card before moving to the next present. I also remember his fourth Christmas when we got smart and saved the trains for last. I don't know when it happened, but Thomas stopped being Jacob's favorite thing and that makes me very sad.

Oh, it's not like Thomas is my favorite toy or anything, I still remember the many times we rued the day we invited him inside, it's just Thomas and little Jacob just went together, kinda like peas and carrots. No more Thomas just confirms no more little Jacob. Sniff.

He's not as prevalent here as he once was, but after all was spent we've been through Thomas and his many friends can stick around a few more years and enjoy a semi-retirement, coming out now and then to play with Kid Two and Kid Three. They can rest their weary wood after all the hours they clocked for nearly five years and job share with Diego, Webkinz, and, keeping my fingers crossed, the Disney Princesses.

Thanks Thomas. Thanks for being there for my little dude. You really are a very useful engine.

It's Safe To Assume That Modeling Isn't In Their Future

I bought my kids matching sweaters for Christmas. Do you know how hard it is to find matching clothes for boys and girls? Do you know how many times I swore to all that's holy that I would never, ever dress my children alike? Approximately 1,434, but that's beside the point.

In the midst of our family Christmas chaos, I thought it would be a good idea to triplet my kids and take their picture.




And my sister wanted to know why I didn't buy one for her kid.

Rich Who?

Have you met my new boyfriend?




Sure, he's a little old for me, but I think we can make a go of it.

He certainly knows how to make a girl happy.

Let's Go Mountaineers!

One Down, 365 More to Go

(It's a Leap Year I'm told)

Wow!

How can it be 2008 already? According to my childhood imagination, I should have a flying car and a push-button kitchen ala The Jetsons by now. That would be so cool. Somebody needs to get to work on that.

A new year means new resolutions. I did okay last year. We eat healthier, I don't swear quite as much, and I did spend an awful lot of time with Jacob before the baby came. I'm still living in this crappy neighborhood and I have no friends with whom I can gripe about it, but hey, there's always next year.

This year:

I Will Not Sweat the Small Stuff The best compliment I got this year was when the yoga instructor told me I was a great mom because I didn't let my kids get to me and that she was impressed I could be so laid back with three kids. I am happy to say that I do let a lot more roll off my back than I did when I first became a mom, but I could do better. The world isn't going to end if the husband buys the wrong type of soap and wipes. It really won't.

I Will Move Out of This Crappy Neighborhood Well, we made an attempt last year but our awesome deal fell through. We are in the process of moving some money around, patching things up and intend to put the house on the market after all the birthdays have passed (April). Eight years is long enough.

I Will Spend More Quality Time with my Kids My kids all absolutely adore one another. They really don't mind sharing my time, but I need a little more one-on-one time with each of them. It's amazing how much better behaved they are when they've had a little me time.

I Will Cut Our Grocery Bill in Half Okay, maybe just a third, or even a quarter, but I'm spending twice as much on groceries as I was a year ago and I don't like that. I have always been a coupon queen, but I've gotten lazy since Elizabeth was born and need to organize a little better to save a lot more.

I Will Straighten Out My The Kid's Webkinz World Once and For All And I'll make it to level 18 on Where's Wacky, yo.

I Will Only go to Target if Absolutely Necessary Dear Lord that place has some sort of hold on me. No. More. Dollar. Spot.

I Will Find a Friend I think it's time to start stalking some of the moms at Jacob's school.

I Will Drink No More Soda I've gone cold turkey. Lord, help me.

I Will Take my Saturday Free Time My husband and I made a deal when Jacob was two that I got four hours Saturday and he got four hours Sunday child free. I haven't had a free Saturday since before Adam was born. If I'm not going to sweat the small stuff, I need a little bit of free time to recharge each week. Happy New Year Dad!

I Will Have a Fourth Child Just seeing if you were still reading.

I Will No Longer Yell Wanna start a poll as to when that one bites the dust?

I Will No Longer Swear Bwwwaaahhh, ha, ha! Well, I'll at least try.

More Vegetables, less red meat, yada, yada By 2009, we're going to be vegans by golly.

Be Grateful Every Day for All I Have




And let them know each day how grateful I am for each of them.

Christmas in Pictures.....

We are so giddy with Santa excitement our eyes have turned red.

Must. See. Santa.



Santa came at last! I'm not quite sure what that means, but I'm in heaven with all these tags and paper.



Now that I have all these new game cartridges, I no longer need to interact with any of you. Just let me know when it's my turn to open something.




Forget the toys. This new-fangled alien saucer thing is loads of fun.




Phew...what a morning! Are we going to do it again tomorrow?





Merry Christmas Ya'll!

We'll be off to our Christmas vacation at the sleazy motel very shortly so the blog will be closed for the remainder of the holiday season or until we get tired of all the family togetherness, whichever comes first.

Drink some eggnog for me!

Ho! Ho! Ho!

It's going to be a long night for us.

My job is to sit outside the bedroom door and make sure all boys are tucked tight in their beds. So far, so good.

Everything has been assembled and now we're just trying to figure out what to do with all the garbage. Things were so much easier before they got smart.

I hope the kids weren't looking forward to candy, though. The polar bear creature from Lost is apparently spending his hiatus in our attic. I must make a note not to store food products there anymore. I also need to get rid of that thing pronto because I would hate for him to mistake this delicious baby for a candy cane.

All He Wants For Christmas......

is his two front teeth!

Well, among other things.







Hey, wait! If there's money involved, I'm sure I can make mine come out too. Just give me a second.

Ho! Ho! Hum!

Five more days until Christmas.

I just want it to be over.

I haven't enjoyed this holiday season. I don't know what is wrong with me. I haven't tuned into the Christmas carols, I didn't put out the advent stockings, the tree was just thrown together out of necessity and at least half of the usual ornaments stayed in the closet this year. I think it's the sleep thing. Maybe if I weren't so bone dead tired each and every day I might be able to get into it, but so far I got nothin'.

I finally got most of the kid's shopping completed on Monday and was feeling a bit relieved and possibly even a tad jolly until I emptied my pockets onto my dresser and Jacob snuck into my room and read each and every receipt I placed there. Damn him for learning to read! I don't have the time or energy to replace that stuff so Mom and Dad are going to be a lot kinder to him than Santa this year. Maybe I should find a lump of coal and a note for his stocking and hope that 2008 is a better one for him? Santa brings grocery store gift cards. Did you know that? He's all stoked daydreaming about all the gifts he discovered when in reality I just sold most of it to his best bud's mom saving her a trip to the toy store. I'm now wondering if he'll put two and two together when he and buddy compare when they get back to school. Shit.

The husband returned last night but aside from the constant yelling at the children, I wouldn't have known it. He had a "horrible headache" rendering him completely useless except for checking his email and watching Battlestar Galactanerd on the Tivo. He's working late tonight and tomorrow and most of the weekend to make up for all the time he missed on his vacation. Oh, but it sure would be nice of me to go out in all the crowds and traffic and buy and mail his family's Christmas gifts since he just doesn't have the time. Yeah. Like that will happen.

I have to bake five dozen cookies, organize a craft, and find a white elephant gift by nine tomorrow morning. I have gifts to wrap, groceries to buy, floors to mop, and clothes to iron. And I don't iron. I need a snow day. I want a snow day. I'll take a slight dusting with chilly weather day because I feel like I'm trapped in a bad tropical vacation with this balmy weather.

Oh, and the remote finally hit the floor for the last time leaving the tube stuck on Noggin which becomes The-N after five. I can get another one for 249 dollars!

Merry Christmas!


Five more days until Christmas.

Somebody make me an eggnog please!

Now, It's Beginning to Look Like Christmas!

It's amazing how much a frilly dress will put you in the holiday spirit!

Can she wear this every day?

Say It Ain't So Rich!

What a fun weekend we are having here!

The husband left yesterday for a relaxing hunting vacation with the guys. You know he needs to relax and all since he works.

Remember when I complained last February when he left me alone with two kids?

I didn't realize how lucky I had it then.

I think I may need to be committed after he returns on Wednesday, yes Wednesday, night.

My boys are in the process of killing one another as I type. I'm afraid to look.

Elizabeth thinks it's funny though. At least she's enjoying herself.

As if this weren't bad enough, when I finally find the time to check the news, I get this. What a way to end my wonderful weekend.

That Fiesta Bowl sure is going to be interesting.

It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Memorial Day

We had a little winter fun on Tuesday.

It was eighty degrees and sunny so,since snowball fights were out of the question, we dug the pool out and cooked out and pretended it was July.

Of course in July I had a lumpy baby who could not enjoy the swing so much.



She is quite a tasty baby. Just ask that nasty mosquito draining the blood from her leg. Can you believe that? Mosquitoes in December, man. That just ain't right.

If I were a good mom, I would have dried them all off and brought them inside to shield them from the blood-lettings, but they were having too much fun so I took pictures instead.



Come on now. Even the dog was having a good time. What's a few mosquito bites? Trust me when I tell you that it's loads of fun to jump in a pile of leaves and THEN go jump in the pool. Strange, but fun.

Of course, this could explain my kid's confusion about the seasons.

Humbug!

Ya know what? It's my blog and I'll complain if I want to.

I cannot dig myself out of this funk. I am just not loving Christmas this year. I'm just too tired for Christmas. Maybe I could handle all the rude people if I just weren't so damn sleepy. Why are all the people so nasty this time of year? What's up with that? Isn't there supposed to be some sort of jolly factor going on in December? Maybe it's the weather. Maybe trotting around in a thick Christmas sweater when it's eighty degrees out makes some very cranky. I think ditching the sweater might be helpful, but hey, that's just me.

I am going to bitch some more now. Feel free to mark me as read if you don't want to hear about it. Oh, and there may be swearing.

Tuesday is Little Gym day. I love Tuesday. Donuts, Little Gym, and grocery shopping....my favorite things. Tuesday hasn't been fun today. First of all, some nasty lady at the donut shop kept pushing my kid out of his chair in her attempt to make more room for her big self. She made my kid cry then chewed him out in Spanish over it. Apparently she wanted me to do something about it because she then proceeded to chew me out in Spanish when my donut dudes politely told her we were there first. Yeah, don't screw with us lady. We have connections.

I figured things would go better at LG until two new ladies appeared with their very unsocial children. Adam was thrilled to have new kids to play with and tried his darnedest to include them but they would have no part in it. Okay. Whatever. He took the hint. What yanked my damn chain was when one heavily made up, prissy ass woman asked the teacher to please keep "that wild boy" away from her sweet little princess because he was just making her "too nervous to think". Uh, WTF? My kid was running. And playing. AT THE FUCKING GYM! When the teacher lined them all up to do an activity and my two year old cut in front of the little princess because she wouldn't move her pink ass for everyone else to participate, Perfume Bitch grabbed my kid by the arm and told him to wait his turn. Uh, WTF? I took Adam out of the room, timed him out for two minutes because, yeah, he cut in line and timed myself out as well because had I stayed there, I might have pulled all Crabby's bleached blond grays right out of her head. Now I don't like being confrontational; that's why I got married, I leave that to the husband, but I don't like paying that much money to be treated that way by anyone so I went back in, let Perfume Bitch know that I had taken care of the situation and our conversation went something like this:

"Yo, Bitch, keep your skanky hands off my kid"
Me: I'm sorry Adam moved ahead of the line. He's just excited to have more children to play with today."
Bitch: "Well, he's scaring my daughter. He's not very nice and he plays too rough."
Me: "Actually he's a very nice boy. He's been trying to play and include your child and show her how things are done. LG is a time for the kids to run, jump, and roll, and if that comes off as rough, then maybe this isn't the right place for you and your daughter."
Bitch: Blank Stare. Eye Roll. Whispered scowls to equally bitchy friend.

Yeah, bubble time didn't go well after that.

I hate bitches.

But it had to get better. I was going to the supermarket. I lurve the supermarket. Especially my new, fancy supermarket with the new,ultra awesome customer with child-right up front parking spaces. Of course, they would be even nicer if actual customers with children were able to park in them. They were full when we arrived. Okay. I'm fine with that, We can walk. What pissed me off was the dude with his case of Bus*ch and no kids, the fifty something women with no kids, and the employee, yes, with no kids that I encountered leaving or entering those prime spaces on our long walk to the door. Since I had such good practice in the confrontational arena earlier, I figured what the heck and to every one of those parking space abusers I said:

"Wow, you have the most beautiful child I've ever seen, you must be so proud."

Blank stares all around except for the Bus*ch dude who used his possible drunk noodle to come up with: "I don't have any kids!" Really?! Geez.

So instead of knocking off more of my Christmas list this afternoon, I'm staying home and avoiding all that holiday cheer. I'm thinking that mean boy and I can enjoy the hot weather in the kiddie pool while eating popsicles and singing Christmas tunes.



Yep. He is such a mean, rough little boy. What will I do?

Bah!

I'm sure you've heard that old parental saying, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."

That's why I haven't said much lately. I just don't have anything nice to say.

I am tired.

I am up to my eyeballs in errands and chores and chaffeuring and Christmas shopping so much I can't even think straight.

I get no sleep. The baby is up every night at 10, midnight, three, and six and now she has another cold so there isn't much sleeping between those hours either. The husband likes to tell everyone how tired he is, too, but I can't see how he can be too tired since he's been sleeping in Elizabeth's room alone for at least eight hours a night for the past six months. I have nothing nice to say about that so I won't say anything at all.

I do remember your request to know more about my pre-child life. I've tried to do it, but I don't even know where to start. I can't even remember my pre-child days. What did I like? What did I do? Who was I? I swear, it seems like I've been a mom forever, like I never really had a life until I was one. I don't want to leave you hanging so here's what I've got so far:


I was born.
I was a kid.
I moved.
I went to high school.
I went to college.
I got a job.
I met a guy.
I moved.
I got married.
I moved.
I got a job.
I had a kid.
I had another kid.
And yet another kid.

Not what you had in mind was it?

Maybe one day I'll get that together.

You think Santa can bring naps for Christmas?

I Am Not Old After All!

I went to a high school college fair last night.

I dressed in gold and blue and handed out pretty booklets about West Virginia University. I told goth girls and long-haired boys all about the array of majors offered. I described the scholarship opportunities for out-of-state students. I talked endlessly about the medical school because every. single. kid was going for pre-med. I dodged the number one party school questions, although I was probably most knowledgeable in that area.

The one question I got the most, though, was "Does WVU have a football team?

Ha. Ha. You teenagers!! Ya'll are so, so funny.

At least I didn't get a whole lot of "Did you know Michael Vick and did he have dogs?" questions my new friends at the Virginia Tech table were fielding.

Honestly. I met maybe ten serious students the entire evening. Apparently the kids got extra credit based on the number of pamphets they could produce today. Pamphlets that are now lying in a chewing gum lined garbage can in some smart teacher's classroom right now. Those books cost money people! If we spend all our money on recruiting paraphenalia how in hell are we supposed to boost our athletic department? Geez.

It was a lot of fun though. I spent three hours with other adults while my husband sat on his ass watching movies while ignoring my kids (FYI, dude, the six year old talks)

The best part was when I entered the "hospitality room" to scarf down enjoy my free catered dinner and I was stopped by a teacher who informed me that students weren't allowed inside. I thought she wanted me to help her turn the kids away, but she was trying to turn me away! She thought I was a student!

It was the best. night. evah.

Yes, I am Pissed

I thought I could let it die, thought I could make it without having to bitch about it, but I can't. I just can't.

The Mountaineers suck.

What in hell was going on out on that football field?

Is it the blindingly yellow, butt-ugly uniforms screwing with ya'll?

Seriously. You needed some help dudes.

Man, I would have gone to that Sugar Bowl. I would've listened to that game on the radio in the parking lot of the Super Dome if I couldn't have scored some tickets. Just the mere thought of being at a Mountaineer game, even just a tailgate, for the first time in eight years was exciting. New Orleans is a six hour drive from here. Completely doable, even with all these kids. Arizona, on the other hand, is not.

Oh, and a National championship would've been kind of nice, too.

What I saw on Saturday was excruciating. Horrible. I can't even find words to describe how messed up that was. Those boys made Pitt look good. And Pitt sucks!

I swear this is more proof to substantiate my claim that the BCS is all a sham and the players and teams are paid off to take dives to assure the big teams end up at the big games.

Either that or the entire team was high.

Pat White should win the Heisman Trophy because obviously he is the team. Oh, it was just all so ugly.

Don't even get me started on Missouri.

Can They Move Christmas to March?

Can Christmas be cancelled?

I'm just not in the mood for it this year.

I am usually very eager to begin the yuletide season, but, damn, I'm still cleaning up from Halloween. Seriously. The costumes are still draped across the upstairs banister and my middle child is sitting on the floor in the pantry eating out of his trick-or-treat bucket as I type. Can we just pretend it's Halloween a while longer? And I don't even like Halloween.

Usually, I'd be wrapping and baking and listening to Christmas carols by now, but I haven't even made a small dent in the Christmas list. I don't even know where to start. I hate going out this time of year. When I went out on Friday, I was smoked on, yelled at, flipped off, and shoved just trying to get some holiday jammies at the Old N*vy. Who says everyone's just a little nicer this time of year?

I might be a little more motivated, too, if I didn't have to listen to the husband scrutinize every single dime that's spent. My husband, he is Ebenezer Scrooge himself. He has decreed that he shall not be buying a gift for me because he does not have the time to shop and we don't have the money to spend and why should the two of us give in to the Hallmarkness of the holiday and just spend money to be spending money?? Awww, he's so romantic like that.

There's no time to string the lights outside. The tree will stay in it's box until at least Sunday. The weather's too warm, I'll be getting no Sugar Bowl tickets, and I just found out that we've been delegated to a motel for the Christmas holidays so there will be room for my sister's family, who refused to come unless they could "spread out". Bah. Humbug.

How does Santa stay so jolly? I need a little of whatever has been prescribed for him.