Thursday, January 28, 2010

Thankful For Thrones

Shea leaving the bathroom this morning:

"Thank you, TOILET!!"

I've never thought to thank him before. Now I'm feeling so ungrateful.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

It's Name is Freddy

Madisen was completely upset with me when we moved and I had to pull her out of her school. She still talks about her friends at her old school sometimes, although, those times are getting fewer and farther between. Last night we realized why. Madisen was sitting on her Daddy's lap, telling him about her day at school, and her best buddy Freddy. She pulls his ear to her lips and says, "Daddy, me and Freddy are in love!"
I know what you're thinking, but despite all odds, Pete's eyeballs did not fall out when pushed to their maximum capacity.
He picked up his heart, put it back in his chest, and tried his best to just listen to her without demanding Freddy's last name, and phone number. I got to listen to Pete gripe about what a stupid name Freddy is and hear him randomly scoff "Freddy" throughout the rest of the night. I have parent teacher conferences next week, and because Pete isn't able to attend, he's demanding I address this to the Teacher. Short of homeschooling, he doesn't see any way to proceed from here. I am a little less irked by this. Mostly because I was a little girl once and know this is more about the game of "Wedding" than anything else. However, this Friday I am going in to her school. I am only going to volunteer, and observe of course, but if Freddy gets too close, I can't promise I won't accidentally trip him.

yes I did change the name of the little boy. I figure a few years from now, if she reads this blog, she will be happy I didn't post the name of her first love all over the place :)

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Do Mom's Sweat?

I can't stand parenting magazines. They claim to be supportive of stay at home Mom's and yet I've never seen an article about the stay at home Mom who doesn't work from home. Or the Mom, that rejoices if they vacuumed in the morning and it still looks vacuumed in the evening. Or the Mom who figured out how to one up her child over the dishwasher battle. The battle where Mom puts the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, but toddler feels each dish looks best dirty, under the kitchen table. I must say I know a lot of stay at home Mom's, but not a single one who could name what was taking place on any given soap opera. I truly don't know a single Mom who even turns on the T.V. during the day for herself. And while I don't know a single stay at home Mom who wears sweats all day every day, I don't think it's all that impractical of a uniform when part of the job is to be a target for flying snot. I do hate the cliche idea of the Mom who sits on the couch all day eating bon bon's. However, after a particularly snotty-cold week, I've made an appointment with myself, 3 years in the future. In September of 2013, I have made a date with my couch. After I send my youngest off to Kindergarten, I boldy plan to spend that day in my sweats, bon-bon's in hand, and Soap Opera on the T.V. Don't Mess.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010


I've always been an UberNerdUltra BookWorm Geek. It's cool, I don't mind the title. My husband, rather than try to help me away from my addiction of all things literature, has chosen to feed it. He could do no worse than buy me the heavenly Ultide gift of the golden trophy, nay, the holy grail of all UNUBWG's. The Kindle. INSTANT BOOKS. Have you not heard of the coveted Kindle? I'm your friend, I won't judge. The kindle allows me to download books, wherever I am whenever I want, and have them within 30 seconds. Since recieving the Kindle, I believe I haven't seen my blessed, blessed husband, because my nose has never left the screen. It's my new little buddy, that I simply CANNOT do without. While blowdrying my hair, I'm reading. Walking, pulling laundry out of the dryer- one handed, because I'm reading. Waiting for Madisen's bus: reading. Making dinner: reading. Oooops.
Did I just pull a plastic plate of dinner rolls, out of the oven just in time for the plate to NOT melt onto the rack?
Yes I did.

It was Jane Austen *shrug* you understand. . .

Thursday, January 7, 2010


Shea: Mom, I have frogs
Me: In your throat?
Shea: Yeah in my mouth
Me: Oh, no! you do sound froggy. are you going to lose your voice?
Shea: Yes. Ursula is going to take it

Shea: When can I be a Mommy?
Me: uh, when you're 27.
Shea: or 28?
Me: even better.
Me: Why do you want to be a Mommy?
Shea: So I can cook dinner.

at first I was flattered that she looked up to me and thought watching me cook looked like fun; but now I'm kinda wondering if she doesn't feel someone needs to take over. . .

Monday, January 4, 2010


like my microwave

DEAD like my garage door

DEAD like my car

DEAD like the ants.

But I had pizza for lunch!!!?!

Saturday, January 2, 2010

Muddled Hot Husband

Once upon a time there lived a woman. We won't get into specifics, but she was 5'3" with shoulder length brown hair, and 3 children. 2 girls and 1 boy. This woman had just come in from the frigid outdoors with rosy red cheeks after a full day of sledding with the children. Because it is the weekend the New years resolution of always keeping her home spic and span will be put off until Monday in favor of devouring a delicious new book. Time passes. It is now 6:00 p.m. and her middle child (though no less loved for it) came to ask about dinner. Although this child has just turned four years old, it is possible that she managed to come and ask what was for dinner while sporting applesauce throughout her hair on the top of her head. Okay maybe that happened the applesauce --------------------->
next morning at breakfast, the details are hard to say. Anyway, back to the evening and it's late, and this woman decides that her poor, young, starving children should not have to have pb&j for dinner, nor wait an hour for a full dinner to be cooked. She eye's her hot husband sleeping on the couch. The couch where he had been sleeping for just over two hours (after the long hard day on the sled hill). Enter bright, animated light bulb; flashed just above and to the right of the woman's forehead. Woman walks over to wake her hot husband nicely of course by poking him in the ribs. Husband sits up in a flash, looking from the left to right through his squinted left eye, and confused, ultimately grabs the remote and starts flipping through the channels. "No, no" this woman says, "I did not wake you up to watch T.V. I woke you up because you told me you were going to go get us dinner"
"Huh?" his reply
"you said you were going to get us dinner. I will go get your shoes"
"Bring the white one's" he says, and woman pats herself on the back for now it was obvious that her wicked plan worked and in his waking stupor he was unable to recall or not recall stating he was going to pick up dinner. She comes back in the room and he starts asking questions about where he was supposed to be going. This woman puts his coat around his shoulder's and says,"are you serious, you told ME you were going to go get something. I thought You knew where you were going." The eldest daughter say's she wants to come along and the woman replies she can hurry and grab her shoes and go along. He eyes the daughter wondering whether he had also said he would take her along. The man allows the woman to zip up his coat. Unfortunately, at this point the woman was unable to control her laughter after seeing his completely innocent, and muddled face. It made it unbearable how he was still standing up and ready to head out the door. Now further awake, He turns back and asks if the woman is lying to him. She's forced (through laughter) to confess she is. Ah, well, it was a good joke anyway, she says.
The moral of the story: It still holds true that it's best to make the man believe something is his idea. Even better if you wake him up and tell him his idea.
How did this story end? Seeing himself already dressed and ready to go, this man proceeds to go pick up dinner for the family. And they ate happily ever after.
I love happy endings, don't you?
Don't miss the sequil: The Next Morning At Breakfast