A literal stroll down memory lane...

So, this weekend my hubby and I did some big-time reminiscing. I mean like giganto.

We got up Saturday morning, got everyone fed and dressed and dropped the kiddos off at my in-laws house. Then, we got back in the car and drove an hour up the road to the town and college campus where we met. Our old stompin' grounds! It wasn't homecoming, we weren't meeting anyone there, it was just something my hubby proposed about a month or two ago and it sounded fun, so we just went for the day. We left our day pretty unstructured, as I was sick (and still am) with a pretty yucky cold.

It was probably one of the best days of our married life.

The whole way up we played the "remember when" game. We were laughing about the STUPIDEST things we've seen, said and done together. We also laughed about what a complete idiot my husband is for not trying to marry me sooner, but that's a whole different Oprah right there.

Before I get into our day -- my hubby attended school there from '90-'94 before he moved back east for law school. I was there from '91-'95 and then stayed till '97 for grad school. Just use that as a frame of reference.

One of the first things we noticed when we drove into town is that "The Gambler" is not "The Gambler" anymore. This was very distressing to us, as our first drive back into town smacked of change on a fundamental level. How in the HELL could that happen? I mean -- that was where you went to get REALLY "happy" with your friends. It was a complete dive -- a country bar with penny pitchers...you get the idea. The best part about it was that it was TOTALLY within walking distance to my house. *sigh* I sure hope "Jack's Place" provides the same opportunities for drunk dancing, groping and obnoxious memory making that The Gambler did.

Okay -- change #2...we drove past my house, which is a few blocks away. CRAZINESS!! The entire block was wiped out on the other side of the road...they tore down all of those houses and built apartments! It was nuts! I still remember that we were friends with all of these looney guys that lived across the street from us and we'd walk to class with them a few times a week. It's crazy to think that now their house is gone. (Am I sounding really old yet? Are you detecting a theme here?)

Moving right along -- the shock wore off of that and we decided to head to campus. We turn onto the street and both go "What is THAT?" A *very* nice building that definitely was NOT there when we were at school. We both were like "Ummm, we were not consulted on this and that is NOT how we remember it." Well, adding a building didn't prepare us for what was around the corner -- they flippin' STUCCOED our dorms!!! Our dorms when we were there were white wood with black trim. Now they are a yellowy tan stucco with lots of brick. We both just started laughing when we saw them because it was like "what is THAT?!?" I think part of it is -- that was our special memory -- that's where we met. That's where he first toted my luggage around. Hee hee. I swear to you -- we both were like "ooookay, this is gonna be a strange day."

And it was.

We took bets on what would still be in the University Center, what wouldn't etc. Let me tell you, those of you that know me will know this is a big announcement -- THERE IS A STARBUCKS in the UC!!! How in the WORLD did I miss out on THAT?!? Ugh!!! All of that time that I spent there with no Starbucks???? Come ON!! Those kids better appreciate that one!

OMG -- I just called them kids. And meant it. And I'm TOTALLY a "ma'am" to them. Crap.

Anyway -- the bookstore is now owned by Barnes & Noble, so that was bizarre. We spent almost $300 in there buying clothes and hats and dumb stuff but it was so much fun! We wandered around and basically both couldn't believe it really had been over 10 years since we were there together. Just insane.

Okay -- so after that we decided to go to our favorite restaurant for lunch. It is a complete DIVE but they have the BEST carolis (like calzones) and really cheap beer. Hey -- Georgia was elsewhere so I was on that. We ordered the Bazookas, just like old times and guess what -- I actually finished mine. We just laughed the entire time we were at lunch and enjoyed ourselves entirely. Of course the humongous beer did its usual make me frisky thing, so I spent the next hour telling my hubby to pull over so I could attack him and he spent the next hour laughing at me. Good times...

Okay -- so after lunch we decided to drive over to where he used to work. That meant a trip to a really fun little newspaper stand and he was very good -- we were only there a few minutes because that man could stay there for HOURS. They have any magazine you'd ever want to read and then some. After that, a trip to the STUPID little nascar store. Ugh. The lady just HAD to tell him that his driver stuff was 50% off so that took forever, even though this store is like the size of a broom closet. That didn't stop him from taking his sweet ol' time. Nerd.

(This is very long, and please know that I am not EVEN doing our day justice.)

Okay -- so I finally yank him out of the nascar nerd store and we get back in the car. This time we decide to drive over to the other side of campus and walk around -- over by the library. It's funny -- I can't describe how it was like an instant flood of memories walking back into that library -- I spent soooooooo much time there in grad school. LOTS of time. The sight of the dang copy room -- I don't even want to think about how much money in dimes I spent in there making copies. Insane. But I told my hubby, I really wish it was closer -- I'd LOVE to spend more time in there again. Seeing all of these kids in there studying, laughing with their friends, it made me realize just how completely EASY I had it in college -- I never, ever thought I'd be longing to do that stuff again, but I think it would be SO fun!! Oh, and by the way, coffee kiosk in the library now, too. Gimme a break -- spoiled brats!! (That's jealousy speaking, there.)

We walk around, laugh about places we used to hang out and where we always seemed to run into each other -- and then we get to that new building that we saw on the way into town. Oh my word -- that place is a brand new "dining hall" but it looks like a fancy freakin' RESTAURANT!! We were like "Are you KIDDING me with this???" Sheesh.

By this time, I was feeling not so hot so we decided to just drive around some more so I could get back to my beloved bottled water and cough drops. (Uhhh - yeah. Old. I know.)

We drive around and look at a park we used to love and the other side of campus. I feel a recharge of energy (youthful??) so we walk around some more. That's the old part of campus that they stuccoed to make it "new" again, so it felt weird to us because nothing looked the same. They'd built some more dorms, and changed the way everything looked but that same ol' feeling was there walking with him. Pretty nutso.

Back to the car we go -- and off to dinner at another favorite place. We had a great dinner and made our Christmas list of gifts we need to buy while we ate. (Yes, by this time, it's official -- we are crusty ol' farts.)

On the way home, I'd like to point out that my husband saved our lives. I'm not even kidding. We were on a pretty rural road that didn't have any street lights. We were on the main road and coming up to a cross street. There was no stop sign or anything but my hubby started slowing down. I was like "What are you doing?" Just about then, he starts saying "Oh my God, she's NOT gonna stop" and lays on the horn. I totally didn't even see it but this girl driving a sedan BARRELED through the stop sign coming the other way and would have NAILED us right in my passenger door if he hadn't been so alert. I cannot explain to you how close it was and how my heart literally was pounding away. I looked back to see the girl's car stopped on the other side of the main road on the shoulder. My guess is she was figuring out how to clean the poop out of her pants. I was shaking and hubby was very calm but told me he saw her because her phone was lit up and he could tell she wasn't slowing down. He said that ever since those crazy Volkswagon commercials started, he's always aware of getting t-boned like that. Thank GOD for him because I'm serious, it would have been a NASTY accident. Scares me even to think about it.

Anyway-- we ended our day with picking up the kids, getting them home and to bed. We both just laughed at how funny it is that we ended up together like this. We met when I was 17 years old and now here we are married, in the suburbs with a minivan and two kids.

Anything is possible, people. Never say never to anything -- we are proof that it may take awhile, but crazy things happen every day.

I'm so very, very grateful that life is like that.

What is it...

Does Target have a magnetic draw to my wallet? Is there some hypnotic field that I pass through each time I walk through the doors?

There has to be.

Check out how stupid I am. Seriously, not bright.

So, last month I went and spent $245 at Target. I thought my hubby's head was going to spin right off of his shoulders and land on the living room floor when I told him. Not mad...just, um, incredulous? Like HOW do you spend that much money in one trip? Wanna know my answer? HOW do you NOT spend at LEAST $100 each time?

I guess it helps that the only time he's EVER in Target is when I'm there, but still...

So, anyway, back to my frivolous spending. (Sort of -- most of it I'll go down on the ship for.) SO, I make this little pile of things that I can take back. $40 worth of stuff -- pretty good, huh? So I take it back today. And guess what -- I spent $126 more.

Uhhhhh, y-e-a-h....tonight should be fun when I break THAT news.

I swear, it's all stuff we need. Sort of need. Want. Really bad. Not me, the kids.

(How's it going so far...think he'll buy it? Me either.)

Letsee -- here's what I got...

*M's santa gift -- a big (like gigantic oversized slipper size) Lightning McQueen that talks and drives in crazy patterns...it's the ONLY thing he wants the Big Guy to bring him and I know if I waited, they'd be sold out.

*Some Cars cars for his stocking

*A Cars ornament. He loved decorating the tree last year and this way we can remember his Cars birthday party. (logical, no??)

*Georgia's stocking -- again, does our daughter deserve LEFTOVERS? I think not. No, instead she needs the talking/singing Elmo stocking. (Why am I driving myself nuts with these toys, by the way? This will NOT help my cause with the hubster.)

*The Cars DVD - -it's M's bday present from us and it came out yesterday. I was thinking it might be sold out -- not so much, but still, now when it DOES sell out, it's SO not a problem here. *insert VERY cute smile and a few blinks here*

*The newest US Weekly. *cough* I feel sick and trashy mags help me feel better. *more winks and blinks and smiles*

Okay, so not such a good day at ol' Target today. Hope I don't have to cry. LOL

Living vicariously...

is SOOOOO much fun. My best friend was here for a visit this weekend and oh my gosh -- we had so much fun living through each other's eyes.

She's knee deep in being courted by many guys that I had the good fortune of seeing on the internet -- some made us literally almost pee ourselves. Some made us drool on each other. Some made us take a breath, look at each other and do the "oooookaaaayyyy, not so much" in concert thing. It was so fun to be a single, dating woman for a couple of hours each day.

I'm knee deep in sassy 3 year old boys and recently crawling and puppyish biting infants. I think for her it was so fun to be a frumpy, stay at home mom for a few days.

In some ways, I think we both not only appreciated what we love about our own lives, but also sort of got a new appreciation for each other's lives.

There were cupcakes and brownies involved, too -- that never hurts anything.

By the way -- if you don't have a soul sister, get one. You just *shouldn't* attempt to do "life" without one.

Mmmmwwwwahhhhh, Stacer. Love you, love you, love you.

Oh, and the french? Le no. Not so much. :)

Being censored...

SUCKS.

When you have a lot (and I mean a truckload) of things you want to say to someone, that you REALLY feel like they need to hear, but someone else tells you not to say them, because in their opinion it would make a situation even worse...

That SUCKS.

Yes, I am being censored against my will. It is NOT easy and I also have to figure out how to not be a complete jerk to said people next time I'm in their company. Hmmmm. I'm guessing not talk at all -- which will still be me being a jerk, but at least I'll keep my trap shut.

Let's just say if I bit my tongue any harder, it would be in two pieces. You know when Yosemite Sam gets really mad and turns red and starts hopping around and steam comes out of his ears?

Yeah...it's like that.

Creative outlets...

I need them. Badly.

Right now, my only creativity comes in cooking and I'm not even really being all that daring. I mean, I got SO excited that someone passed along a recipe for the crockpot that involved 3 ingredients -- one from a can and one from a package. Sad, isn't it?

Thank goodness for the good ol' Blog, but honestly, how creative have I really been? As my friend Renee said, you go to write in the blog and it's like "The house is dirty, the kids are cranky, I don't know what to make for dinner, the laundry is piled to the ceiling and I want a nap."

In case (I seriously doubt this is an issue) there is anyone who ever is disappointed that I've skipped a day of blogging, just know that that's what it would say had I taken the time to type it out. Kind of like when people go on vacation from work and their email will autoreply with "I'm out of the office until Oct. 29th", mine would say my little dirty house, crying kids, dinner TBD, too much laundry and exhaustion speech. You're seriously not missing anything.

The thing is, I consider myself to be a creative kinda person. How sad is it that the most fun creative artsy-fartsy thing I've done in the past month is make a nametag for myself at my MOPS group? Seriously. That's just sad.

I have a humongous rolling thing of scrapbook stuff in the basement. I really WANT to do it, I just can't face the getting it out, putting it away routine. A little secret -- one of my really, really big want a bigger house reasons is to get a scrapping space. A little corner of a room all to myself. I can't WAIT for that.

Until then, I'll just blog. About the same old stuff. And call it creative.

As my hubby would say, "Well, whooopedeee Dooooooooooo."
(The Wedding Singer was on this weekend. Of course we watched it again. I won't apologize.)

Helpless...

Ya ever feel helpless?

Like when your hubby has 90 bijillion things going on at work and you can't help him do them?

Or when someone you know is in the crappiest relationship and you just have to sit back and watch them get pooed on and be there for them?

Or when someone you care about is in physical pain and there's now way around it?

Or when people make other people feel like crap and then buddy up again when they need something? And you want to say something but the crapee doesn't want you to?

Or when both of your kids have double ear infections and fevers?

Stuff like that makes me feel helpless.

Vacation

My husband and I are trying to decide where to go for our anniversary in February. It's a kid-free trip and for a long weekend. It's our 5th anniversary and we're both really looking forward to it.

If only we could decide where to go and what to do.

Actually, I think we've decided what we want to do -- a whole lot of nothing. Well, maybe with a whole lot of "something" thrown in -- *wink, wink*.

The thing is, we don't travel much. Our family is here, and the ones that aren't here are only an 8 hour car trip away. We get there and stay for free with them.

We're out of the whole "a vacation is expensive" ball game. We've just started pricing our trip and while I know it's probably very reasonable for people that are used to it, we are like "WHAT?!" We can and will pay the money - it's just a little hard to swallow when your big expense is a $300 trip to Sam's Club once a month.

I think we're going to end up in Las Vegas -- we want to just sit. And eat. And have some "adult beverages". And shop if we want to. And lay around. And talk. And sleep. And laugh. And that "whole lot of something". And sit in the hot tub. And order pay-per-view. And maybe gamble a little -- but not much. And sleep. (I think we're both looking forward to the laying around and sleeping the most.)

What better place to do that than Vegas? The people watching (one of our favorite sports) is awesome, the food is awesome, the pools are awesome, and you can walk or lie down all day without a problem. If we feel like going somewhere at 3am, we can. We've always gone with other people so it will be fun to set our own agenda -- or have a complete lack of one.

Anyway -- if we can just realize that we're like the only people on the planet who can't believe how expensive everything is, we'll be fine. We are old fuddy-duddies looking to bust out of that mold for awhile.

Colds. Suck.

Both of my kids have one.

We were in the car for 18 hours this weekend.

Need I say more?

Thirtysomething...

Okay, so your 20's are your carefree years where, though you are a full-fledged adult, you can get away with pretty much anything. Yes, you're expected to have a job, but pretty much any job can shut people up because you'll be said to be "finding yourself". You are expected to still party too much and do semi-crazy things with your also unattached, carefree 20-something friends. You can rent instead of own and no one will hound you about when you're going to buy a house. You can remain single and no one really gives ya grief before the big 3-0. If you're married, you can really get by for quite awhile without having people asking when you plan to have kids. (Disclaimer on that last part: this is what I hear and not based on personal experience -- I myself didn't test that theory beyond a time span of 3 weeks post-vows while being 28, which is dangerously near 30.)

Looking back, I had some SERIOUSLY fun 20's. A little rough patch in the middle that I'd like to just pretend was someone else's completely moronic series of life decisions, but other than that (like how I actually did just pretend it never happened?), fun and full of accomplishments. I made some of the best friends I know I'll ever have -- and have forever. I found love, lost love, found love again, and went to some really fun places. Might I also add -- I will forever maintain that I was as smart as I'll ever be -- the end of my grad school experience had my brain at full capacity -- there will never be that much USEFUL information swimming around in there again.

I was a typical 20-something woman -- enjoying life to the fullest and COMPLETELY unaware of how good life was. Funny how you don't TRULY appreciate something until it's past. Maybe it's just me, but that seems to be my pattern. I think I appreciate it, but then looking back on things, I find that I didn't appreciate something nearly as much as I do later on.

Okay -- so moving onto the 30's. People start expecting all this stuff. Like stability and responsibility. You pull a stupid move in your 20's and you get excused -- "Hey, she's young. She'll learn." You pull that same move in your 30's and suddenly you're an idiot. Being single in your 30's takes things to another level both for yourself and those around you from what a few of my friends have told me. You put more pressure on yourself and other people around you definitely don't cut you much slack. If you're married and past the age of 30, you better have a date circled on the calendar for when you plan to start "trying" -- this is especially important for the future grandparents. If you'd like to maintain any other avenue of conversation, I suggest leading off with that information at dinner parties and family celebrations. (Again, refer to earlier disclaimer.)

As a 30-something woman now, I say that life is still good but Good Lord I long for my carefree 20-something days every now and then.

Like this morning when I had to wake up at 5:45. For work? No, no, no.

My minivan needed to go to the shop.

Okay -- seriously. My carefree 20-something self never saw this one coming.

I had to wake up at the butt-crack of dawn to make sure that the DVD player in my freakin' minivan can get repaired before we go on a road trip, toting two pajama-wearing kids in parkas with me and depositing a suit wearing husband off downtown afterwards. (By the way, he looks super cute when he wears his Bronco hat with his suit. Wouldn't think it would work like that, but it so does.)

I guess there are pros and cons to every age, but man -- sometimes when I think about my life and the things I do every day, I realize that I really *AM* a thirty-something mom of two kids who drives a minivan and is worried about things like private school and retirement.

So depressing. Sort of. Not really. Just weird, I guess.

Don't blink...

No "might" here -- you WILL miss something.

Overnight these little people grow and change. They are subtle changes and if you're not watching or listening closely, you will indeed miss it and be left wondering when it happened.

Some examples...

Tonight, for the first time, when I asked him to choose "In Between The Lions" or "Sesame Street" for his bedtime cd, he answered "Sesame Street". Why is this unusual? Because up until today it's been "Seh-me Street". When did he add the "suh" syllable in the middle? Not sure. To make myself feel better, I'm going with tonight.

This afternoon, after a month or two of modeling it for her, Georgia touched (like a light clap) her hands together when I had her do "more" for getting more tickles from Grandma. She did it over and over and it was more than evident that she knew EXACTLY what she was doing. Again, today -- first time.

Earlier in the week, my little boy who even the prior week was a blubbering mess during drop off at preschool, told me "I am going into my classroom ALL BY MYSELF today, Mommy. You stay here with Georgia, okay?" (I did let him know that I'd first need to escort him across the parking lot.) Why is it that last week his tears annoyed me and this week I'm the one in tears because it appears I am on the verge of annoying him?

Georgia has developed a new game. It's called the "Ahhh-yell" game. Basically it consists of her and another willing participant to exhange yellish "Ahhhs". She's quite good at it and I've become accustomed to playing each day. My mom asked me when that started -- I have no idea. Another subtle change -- snuck up on me.

Mitchell can now dress and undress himself completely, except for socks and shoes. This is HUGE for us, but if I had to nail down exactly when he mastered this skill, I'd be guessing. I was watching, just not really WATCHING.

Georgia is able to drink from a sippy cup, but prefers drinking ice water from a big person's glass. It's one of her very favorite things to do each day. When did she start this? Hmmmm...

One eye on the kids, the other one on the calendar, people. That's the name of the game.

I forgot...

How much I *hate* political campaign commercial season.

They are SOOOOOO annoying.

It totally irritates me that they spend more of their money telling you why you *shouldn't* vote for the other person than they do telling you why you *should* vote for them. What kind of sense does that make?

That would be like my husband asking me what was for dinner and me spending 5 minutes telling him all of the things that we're NOT having for dinner. Or if I went to a store and asked how much a jacket cost and they proceeded to tell me how much a pair of pants, shoes, shirt, etc. cost.

Tell us about yourselves, people!! But here's the catch -- these days in my state, it's dangerous to make a commercial about yourself because your opponent will surely use it, edit it, crop it, and use it AGAINST you in their mudslinging ad about why people shouldn't vote for you.

On the positive side, some of them have at least been slightly amusing this year. Hard to tell since I change the channel so quickly.

Overwhelmed...

So I have had a SERIOUS motivational lack this week. For what? Anything, really.

Laundry. Returning phone calls. Cleaning. Taking a shower, some days.

Am I depressed? No. I think I'm just tired. And tired of being tired. And I wanted to rest.

The only problem is that I am now motivated but overwhelmed.

Like 8 (literally) loads of laundry. All 3 bathrooms dirty. A PILE of junk mail on the kitchen table. The floors need mopping. The carpet (whole house) needs to be vacuumed. I need to make some stuff food-wise.

Ugh. Oh well, just took a break to say that this sucks and I *REALLY* want a cleaning lady. I might even give up Starbucks for that.

SUB!!!!! I need a sub!!!!

I wanna talk about me...

Sorry -- totally nerdy Toby Keith reference there. I am feeling less than creative today and decided to follow my friend, Kim's lead on this one.

A) Four jobs I have had in my life:
1. Hostess at Black-Eyed-Pea
2. Waitress at Applebee's (woot, woot -- Renwoit - hee hee)
3. Receptionist/physical therapy assistant/word processing for the Rehab Dept at a hospital
4. Dry cleaning counter person

B) Four movies I would watch over and over: (only 4?!?!)
1. Pretty Woman
2. Urban Cowboy (Dang, Gina -- the first scene after he shaved? HOT!!!!)
3. Baby Boom (yes, nerd alert)
4. When Harry Met Sally

C) Four places I have lived: (I'm positively WILD, I tell ya. WILD.)
1. Englewood, CO
2. Greeley, CO
3. Aurora, CO
4. Denver, CO

D) Four TV shows I love to watch
1. Grey's Anatomy
2. Desperate Housewives
3. Sex and The City Reruns
4. America's Funniest Videos (am I not THE coolest person you know yet???)

E)Four places I have been on vacation:
1. San Francisco, CA
2. Seattle, WA
3. Victoria, BC
4. Las Vegas, NV

F) Four Web sites visited daily (weekly):
1. Pregnancy.org
2. ebay.com
3. bestsimplerecipes.com
4. target.com

G) Four of my favorite foods:
1. Lasagna
2. Ice cream
3. Anything mexican (but mostly chile rellenos and guacamole tostadas)
4. Cheese

H) Four places I would rather be right now:
1. Girls Night Out
2. The scrapbooking store
3. Disneyland with my family
4. On a hawaiian beach with a margarita and my cabana boy, errrr -- husband

So go ahead. If you have a blog, blog it. If you have a board, post it. If you have neither, just write it down and think about it.

You HAVE to go!!

Okay, if you have a list of things to do or places to visit, I have one for you to add.

You have GOT to see a concert at Red Rocks! If you've ever seen the U2 video from "Sunday, Bloody Sunday" then you know what I'm talking about.

My husband and I went last night and it was just amazing. Both of us are from Colorado, so we've both been to lots of concerts there, but it never gets old. Ever. PLUS -- they've done some really nice additions and remodeling to the bathrooms, added a restaurant, all kinds of stuff.

Actually, I'm kicking myself because I know they did some movies there this summer at night and now I'm wishing we'd looked into it. It's a hike from our house, but so very worth it. We're definitely taking the kids there next summer.

The energy there during the show is crazy -- concerts are always power houses of energy, but here, it's just nuts. I seriously think it's the best place EVER to see a show. Maybe this year we'll go to the sunrise Easter service -- I've always wanted to.

Okay -- there's my PSA for the day. Go to Red Rocks and thank me later.

A dream come true...

Saturday night, one of my husband's life-long dreams became reality.

He took his son to a major league baseball game.

To some people, this might be a small event. To my husband, it was a MAJOR milestone in his life, not just Mitchell's. I know, without a doubt, that he will remember and savor each and every moment from last night forever and it was a magical night for me to watch it through both of their eyes.

It was really chilly and the day before was pretty miserable -- cold, windy, rainy and I was dreading the game the next day. Friday night I started the whole "I don't want him to get sick again" talk and started throwing out the possibility of not going. Hubby was so excited that he'd already bought the tickets, so we were sort of locked in at that point.

Well, Saturday came and though it was cold, it wasn't too windy and wasn't rainy at all. We dropped Miss G off at my in-laws house and headed on downtown. I don't know who was more excited, Chris or Mitchell. They were both looking forward to it, and I'm not sure either of them knew what to expect. We got there and Mitchell spent the whole walk from the car to the stadium in a slow jog because he just couldn't wait. We finally got there and the lights on the side of the building showing the baseball guy (yes--very technical term) sliding into base just fascinated him. He couldn't understand why we had to wait in line so long (security) and just wanted to show the guy his ticket.

We finally got through the gates and that "feeling" set in -- you know the one. The energy from the crowd, the smell of the yummy junk food, the buzz of everyone chatting as they walked and talked and ate. I don't think he walked the rest of the night -- he floated. Chris was also just so excited and couldn't wait to get to our seats.

The first time Mitchell saw the field a big "whoooaaaaa" came out of his mouth and another baseball fan was born. To watch my boys walking hand in hand in the same wondrous daze was so much fun. Mitchell climbed onto Chris' lap and listened as he described the important landmarks on and off the field. Mitchell's eyes were big as saucers and Chris' eyes danced with joy.

The game was chilly but we kept warm by snuggling together under a blanket eating pa-corn, hot chocolate milk, and chips. (That would be popcorn, hot cocoa and nachos.) The boys sang "Take me out to the ballgame" together and I took a video of it.

Chris made comments throughout the game like "Well, that will be a trivia question someday -- who hit the first homerun at M's first baseball game". Mitchell kept asking "Daddy what is" and "Daddy why" and "Daddy who" questions the whole night, bless his heart -- exactly what he was supposed to do.

It was a chilly, wonderful night of magic for two boys -- one big and one little. And for one dreamy-eyed mommy who felt lucky just to be there to take it all in.

I'm freakin' HOT when I don't shower -- as in SEXY-REXY

Yes, that's right -- you heard it here first. *I* am QUITE the hot little potato when I'm lacking in the personal hygeine arena.

What? You need an explanation? You don't believe this? You think that this is odd blogging?

Blame my husband.

See -- yesterday the kids and I had one of our very rare never leave the house except to check the mail days. (Truth be told -- the ONLY reason we got out of our pajamas was to check the mail and I came *this* close to saying skip it -- but I was waiting for some ebay stuff to come, so my curiosity got the better of me.) Actually, poor Georgia never did make it out of her jam-jams.

Anyway -- here's me -- quite a vision:
*Leftover smudgey eye makeup from the day before
*Hair in a bun with a red visor
*One of Chris' really old and huge Structure sweatshirts
*Big (as in I lost weight - yay - so they don't fit too well anymore) red track pants
*My big, pink, fuzzy slippers

The kids were in bed, and I was in the kitchen washing dishes (for like the 3rd time that day -- I baked brownies, made baby food and made homemade chicken noodle soup so there were LOTS of them) when Chris got home from work. So, we're playing catch-up on each other's days and he's giving me "that" look while I'm telling him a story.

You know when you can tell someone's listening but they're not really *engaged* in what you're saying and they are dying to make a sexually-oriented comment as soon as you stop talking? *THAT* was the look I'm meaning.

So I'm getting "that" look and when I finish my sentence, sure enough he says "Can I just tell you how SEXY you look right now? Seriously. You look hot."

Excuse me while I pee my pants laughing.

Wait. Wait just a second. What the heck?!?

Why is it that EVERY time I skip the shower, skip the makeup, skip doing my hair, THAT'S when I get "that" look and "those" comments? Why bother? So, I decide to ask.

I say "Do you realize that every time I don't shower, *that's* when you think I'm hot?"

At this point -- Chris decides that this is probably blog-worthy discussion and asks if he'll be reading about it soon. Is that too funny? I said "Sure, I'll blog on it." He tells me (while he tries to pull some mack-daddy neck kissing at the sink) that he just thinks I look so cute and he can't help it.

So, in thinking more about it today, I have sort of figured out what the deal is. Here's my best thinking on the subject...

He loves it (and I mean LOVES it) when I get all dressed up, pantyhose, heels (no accident that I first typed "hells" for those, by the way) and the whole 9 yards. I think that's a given. When I do my hair, put on makeup, go all out with the clothes, he definitely notices and compliments me.

He thinks I'm cute in my "school marm" (his term) outfits. Cute, charming and very snuggly are words I'm guessing he'd use. That's when I usually get the "I just want to tackle you" for bear hugs comments.

I think instances like last night turn my hubby on because he has a MAJOR thing for the girl next door look. He thinks the mom (Jill) on Home Improvement is about as sexy as they come, for instance. I'm that girl. The visor was from Daytona (instant "schwing" potential), I was "fresh faced" to him -- icky faced to me, but this isn't about me. I think when he sees me in my sweats, it honestly reminds him of the "girly" part of me -- the cute little teeny-bopper he first fell in love with (before he admitted to himself and the world that he did) so many years ago. I think that for my husband, just being me, just being a carefree, comfortable woman is what *really* turns him on. Cute = sexy in this house. Actually, that's how Georgia got to be here, a simple haircut and the rest is history in that department.

Here's the thing -- I'm COMPLETELY the opposite, and am borderline mean about it sometimes. If he's been working in the yard or has had a long day and wants big ol' snuggles and kisses, I'll hug but like the stiff Aunt Martha who you REALLY don't want to be hugging you hugs. And he knows it. And I'll *tell* him..."Ugh, you need to SHOWER!"

Aren't I so rude?

You know there were a few times when we were dating that I seriously made him take a shower before coming to bed because he'd been around smoke and stuff. If I could smell it, I'd throw a huge fit until he showered.

And then there's him. In the grateful, appreciative, complimentary, lovey-dovey category, no contest. He kicks my butt - no question. Now don't get me wrong, he hears a lot about how cute he is, how I think he's hot, and there are NO lingering questions in his mind about how I feel about his butt. (Love it!!) But he is WAY sweeter than I am.

Guess I should count my blessings that showers are optional, huh? Too bad the rest of the world doesn't view me in the same light. I'd be the hottest stinky woman this side of the Mississippi!

Thanks for loving me for me, honey!!

Grateful...

Okay, I've moved on from blue to grateful. As much as it SUCKS that all this business is going on around me, I've just decided that I've expended enough negative energy for now.

I'm doing what I can for those people that I love who are not in a good way or in the middle of drama. Beyond that, I've decided that all I can do is be grateful for all of the things in my life that are not spinning out of control, causing me hurt, my health, and that of my family. Above all, I know that I'm loved as deeply as I love my own family, and really -- what more does a girl need?

I'm still sad and upset about all of it, but letting it be all-consuming just wasn't working.

Routines...

Those are pretty important to me. I'm a person that craves structure. I think that my little people do, too.

We have a morning routine and today -- we are not in it. Usually, after M wakes up, he comes downstairs and can watch some cartoons and chill out while I put away dishes from the dishwasher, clean the kitchen, and check my email. Well, as a result of a MAJOR tantrum last night going to bed, there is no tv today. No computer today. Period. End of sentence.

You'd think that we moved and I am speaking a foreign language or something. He remembered no tv and it was like "But what do I do?" Now -- before you think I have a total tv head who just vegetates in front of it all day long, that's not the case. He gets to watch it first thing in the morning and while I make dinner. The rest of the day it's music only. I thought he'd have a complete fit about it, but it's just that tv is part of his morning routine and now I've changed it. (Sort of like no cup of coffee first thing -- feels different.) I think that for him -- it took a minute to realize that he could do what he does the rest of the day -- play with the gazillion and two toys he has around here, playdough, color, read, whatever. Currently, he's happy as a clam looking at the Cars cards I cut off of the cereal box for him and eating his cheerios and blueberries.

I just thought that was interesting. He wasn't upset about the no tv thing, he was more confused about "What now?" since I took him out of his routine. I thought how easy it is to view kids as just CHILDREN and forget about the actual PERSON part of their makeup. He really craves structure and routine as much as I do -- I like to fly by the seat of my pants now and then -- I can be flexible and spontaneous, but for the most part, I'd like to have some predictability.

Looks like I'm not alone.

Blue on behalf of loved ones...

Today's not the best day I can remember. You ever talk to people you really, really care about and love and just ACHE because of the struggles they are going through?

Today -- I have lots of them.

I don't want to go into detail -- for one thing, I would be here until midnight, but lots of it is stuff that I need to keep in the vault. It's just HARD. Life -- it's hard. And it's not fair. And it sucks sometimes. And it rips people's hearts open and stomps on them.

And we're all expected to keep going. And believe that not only *can* it get better, but that it *will*. And every day is supposed to be better than the last. And time heals all wounds. And one foot in front of the other. And everything happens for a reason.

And I DON'T LIKE IT.

I don't like hearing other people tear other people down. I don't like watching self-destructive behaviors unfold time and again. I don't like watching families implode. I don't like watching people try to hide themselves and their pain from everyone else because they feel some sort of shame. I don't like watching people suffer at the hands of selfish others who can't see past the tip of their own noses. I don't like watching people grieve because there's nothing left to do. I don't like watching other people's dreams get shattered by things that are completely out of their control. I detest hearing people I love demean other people that I love.

This too shall pass...it all will. I'm aware of that. The grass is always greener, someone's always worse off than you are. Blah, blah, blah. Right now, though -- it sucks, and for quite a few people that I love dearly.

This isn't a pity party -- there's nothing anyone can do, because believe me, I'd be doing it. It's a vent -- there are a lot of people I'd love to have some words with, but I can't for a variety of reasons. I have a lot locked up right now and I just needed an outlet to get some of the steam out.

Ugh.

I hate having a sick kid. Know what's worse?

Two of them.

This is a new thing for me. They've never been sick at the same time. I'm sure it's a bug that M was kind enough to bring home from school. It's just a cold, but still -- you know how that goes. Poor little Georgia. I fed her at 5:30 and then she slept again until about 8:30. Went in to get her and she had snot ALL OVER her little face. :( I did the whole saline/suction thing and man -- I didn't know she had room for all of that in there!! Poor thing -- even after my extraction session, she still had to take breathers to eat. Sweet girl.

I don't feel all that lovely myself today either, so today should be interesting. I just feel so bad because there's not a TON of stuff you can do for colds. I think we'll do rest, some soup, turn on the humidifier, spray the saline, and veg out.

*cough*sniffle*hack*wheeze*snort*

Anyone wanna come over and play?

Yeah, so???

Why are people so defensive all of the time? I can only speak for myself, so I think I'll do that now. (Shocker!!) I get defensive for a few reasons -- would you like me to list them? Okay.

1. When I *know* I'm right and am being attacked. (Read: know = have factual proof)
2. When I have noted a previously established pattern of being attacked by the same person.
3. When there is a "Yo Momma" involved. (just kidding)
4. When I am tired, annoyed, and otherwise not in the mood to put up with ANYONE'S crap.
5. When I am shallow and self-centered enough to not see another person's point of view.
6. When I feel personally insulted and am unable to see the facts, and instead focus on emotions.
7. When I'm hungry. (Seriously -- if I'm REALLY hungry -- do not approach.)
8. When it is obvious to me that I am being disrespected unnecessarily.
9. When it is obvious to me that my point of view is not being taken into consideration at all.
10. When my feelings are invalidated and left on the side of the road.

Can you tell I was a little snarky at home this week and am trying to process it? A little disclaimer -- my husband is not guilty of all of these things -- not what I'm trying to imply. I'm thinking of family scenarios, other social situations, but yes -- maybe a little tiff here and there with the Cabana Boy.

By the way, if you're reading this, honey...might wanna print this off and go down the list next time I launch into "that girl" mode. Try feeding me, giving me a nap, a *cough* Starbucks, perhaps? Yes -- bribe me, essentially. It's that easy. Backrubs and ice cream -- two sure fire bribes. Diamond earrings -- whoa. I might never fight with you again. Okay - -for at least a week. Maybe two. Hey -- you clean up the next pruney diaper blowout and who knows -- I might actually TOUCH your feet.

Fall...

I love autumn. It's my favorite season, and I'm excited that it's almost here -- well, sort of is here already. That feeling is in the air, and it's awesome. Sweater weather is one the best phrases in our house -- it means bundled up walks, football, hot chocolate, fluffy blankies, and warm pajamas.

I'm really excited to take the kids to a pumpkin patch -- Mitchell had so much fun last year, I bet this year will be even better. I'm excited to carve pumpkins, see what Halloween brings, and drink some yummy apple cider. Mitchell and I just read a few pumpkin themed-books from the library, and I think it will be fun to start seeing the leaves change color soon. We'll definitely have to do a leaf-peeping drive through the mountains this year.

Did I mention that I'm also sick of sweating like a pig and looking forward to wearing warmer clothes again?

Oh -- one thing though -- much as I love me some fall, we have tickets to an outdoor concert the last week in September, so if it could be summery that night, that would be great.

We heard the same thing...

Okay, so a couple of nights ago, Chris and I are laying in bed watching tv before going to sleep. We see a commercial for a tv show or movie (I can't remember). This guy has decided that he's found the girl he wants to marry and he says to a friend "She's the last girl I'll kiss."

I say to hubster "Do you ever think about that?"
"What?"
"That I'm the last girl you'll kiss."
"Oh. No. I try not to."
"Why? Are you disappointed about it?"
"No, I'm glad you are, but why are you asking me this?"
"I just saw that commercial and the guy said that she was the last girl he'll kiss so I wondered if you thought about that at all."
"No, not really. Why? Are you glad about it?"
"Sure. I think it's great. I just didn't know what you thought."
"Well, I don't know why that guy is talking to his friend about something that's going to upset him."

Long, dramatic pause with me just staring at him.

"Actually, when he said it, he didn't sound upset. He was telling his friend that he had just found the woman he wanted to marry - and it was more like he didn't want to kiss anyone except her."
"Oh, really? I thought he sounded sad about it."
"You really thought he was upset about that?"
"Well, yeah."

There it is, folks. That's why there are chick flicks and that's why they drive men nuts.

Little changes...

They add up, ever notice that?

We recently began putting up different blinds and I'm truly amazed at what a difference it makes in the way our home looks. To me, more homey, less housey. (Ask me if I actually CARE that it's not a word.)

Cooking -- one of my passions -- is all about little changes making a big difference. Like last night, I tried a new recipe for homemade macaroni and cheese. (No, no chicken manicotti, Renee -- too lazy.) It was supposed to have ham but all I had was turkey so I did that. My husband, sweet man that he is, indulges me in my little "woulda coulda shoulda" cooking game each time I make something. For example, last night was "I shoulda used a big pre-cooked ham and cubed it up instead of deli ham like they suggested." "I'm glad I put breadcrumbs in here instead of just parmesan because it's a yummy crust now." I'm well aware that I'm a COMPLETE nerd, and I'm just glad that my husband is nice enough to say "mmmmhmmm" with a full mouth and grateful tummy.

Little changes add up to BIG changes when it comes to kids...I just finished cleaning out both of the kids' closets and I'm amazed at the number of clothes that they've both grown out of. It happens so gradually that if you blink you might miss it. We have a growth chart behind Mitchell's door and I try to measure him every month or two and I'm always surprised how quickly he grows. Like where was I when you grew? How did I miss this? It's not until the pants start looking flood-ready that I'm like Hmmmmmm...is he taller? I think it's easier when you don't see them every day.

Okay -- that was all I had for today. Little changes -- bigger than they advertise, usually.

I love getting things done.

It always makes me wonder why I don't just go gung-ho more often with my "to-do" list.

Then I think about all of the "Just a minute..." speeches Mitchell got from both of us this weekend while we were "to-do-ing" and I remember. I think that a lot of the time, it's an either/or situation.

Either you play with your kids...

Or you get stuff done.

The days where it's both are very rare. On Saturday I cleaned out the linen closet while G took her nap in the crib. The linen closet is in the hallway just outside of M's bedroom door and my hubby was in there putting up a new blind. Well, M was quite distraught at the sight of his precious valance and train curtains being taken down and he was throwing quite the fit. He ended up laying down reading books on his bed and fell asleep. Of course, about 10 minutes after he fell asleep, she woke up. The hubster and I then spent the next half an hour taking turns from our work to entertain and resettle Miss G in the bouncy seat, placed halfway between the window and the linen closet.

When she was tiny and slept all of the time, I could get a lot more done around here, but now -- it's getting pretty difficult. Mitchell is pretty good about coming with me from room to room and playing trains, reading books, doing puzzles, etc. while I clean or whatever. Lots of times he likes to "help". If I'm dusting, I'll give him a wet paper towl and let him wipe down whatever he wants to. If I'm doing laundry, I let him shake out some wet clothes for me. Stuff like that.

We got a LOT done around here this weekend and it feels great. I just wish it would happen more often, but you know -- I'll never regret choosing a game of Thomas dominoes or singing silly songs together over mopping the kitchen floors.

Oh, to be 3 again...

Mitchell is behind me at the kitchen table right now playing with an airplane singing his own made up song "My space shuttle is gonna blaaaaasssstttt off. I know how to DOOOOOO it." That doesn't happen in adulthood.

Uh-oh. Guess what he switched to?

"La dee da dee da. La dee da dee da. What's the name of that sonnnnnggggg???"

Well, crap. And today was going so well.

************************************************************************************
Here's Mitchell's day yesterday:

Wake up, get some cuddles in bed with mom.
**Come downstairs, eat some Cars cereal (yes -- mom is a sucka) and watch some toons.
**Get dressed, get in the car with whatever toys he chooses and drive to haircut.
**Play with some trains, then have someone entertain him with a silly voice and the video of his choosing, all the while sitting in a play firetruck. Get a sticker, a balloon and a lollipop on the way out.
**Drive to grandma's where lunch is waiting.
**Go with grandpa to see "Cars" (again) at the dollar movies.
**Come home and play with Grandpa. He lets him play on the computer, too.
**Go get some chinese food with Grandpa.
**Eat dinner, play some more.
**Fall asleep on the way home.
**Get a backrub in bed as he nods off for the night.

Come on...is that the life, or WHAT??

************************************************************************************
When is it that we lose our imaginations? Mitchell literally just came up to me with his Blue Angel airplane under a video cover and said "Here, Mommy -- here's a lollipop for you. I made it just for you." When does that stop being a lollipop and start becoming just an airplane and a video cover? When is a fort no longer a fort -- when does it go back to just two chairs and a blanket?

I hope for my kids' sake, it's not for a long, long time...

************************************************************************************
When you're three years old, not one person doubts your sincerity when you say "I love you" or you hug someone. Trust me, when you're three -- neither of those things happen unless you WANT them to. How many adults have you gotten the cardboard cutout hug from? Too many.
************************************************************************************
Life is simple when you're three. I think I need to start living life through my child's eyes more often. (Right now he has his hands stuck in both ends of his slinky and apparently he's a robot. He just told me that when I get older he'll teach me how to do it.) Gotta go. I need to play robot.

15 Years Ago Today...

Gather 'round, kids...listen to a little story.

It's August 31, 1991 and a fresh faced, wide-eyed, just turned 18-year old girl wakes up in her very own waterbed (ha ha) at home. She blinks her eyes, rubs her face, stretches big and sits up, instantly filled with nervous energy as she recalls what today is...

...the day she leaves for college.

That was me. I'm the girl. And I was fresh-faced -- I looked like I was all of 12 years old. Big ponytail with a red and white polka dotted scrunchy (that I made MYSELF) holding it back. I don't remember that -- I have pictures.

After breakfast, my boyfriend (high school sweetheart) came over to tell me goodbye. We decided that the best thing for us to do was be apart while I was away and together if we felt like it when I came back for my first fall break. (He was a year younger than I was and still in high school.) I remember that he made me a beaded necklace and wrote me a letter. Both of them made me cry.

My parents and I piled into the car with all of my stuff and drove the hour and a half north to my college. We pulled up in front of my dorm -- and I started to panic a little bit inside. A huge part of me was more excited than I thought I would be -- and another part of me was more scared that I thought I'd be.

We all hop out and as my dad puts the tailgate up on the Jeep, a *very* cute guy comes over and introduces himself. His name was Chris and he was here to help me move all of my stuff in. I go inside, open up my room, and as he brings the first load of stuff in, mentions that he happens to live in the room directly below me, so he hopes I'm quiet and don't wear loud shoes. I tell him that unfortunately, no one has ever described me as quiet and I pretty much lived in flip flops at that point, so he was probably out of luck. We just laughed right from the start and I felt like I'd already made my first friend.

As we went back and forth and back and forth (and back and forth some more -- I had a LOT of crap) from the dorm to the car, we kept talking. Turns out he is a year older than I am and went to a rival high school. Also turns out that he happens to be very good friends with a friend of mine -- she and I played club volleyball together, but she went to his high school and was also starting at the same college that day. (She lived on the other side of campus though.)

The interesting thing is -- he had a girlfriend and even though I didn't *have* a boyfriend -- I was still pretty emotionally attached at that point. There was a "hey, he's really cute" thing in my head, but as I said before -- it was more like instant friendship.

After he finished moving me into my room, he said to come visit him whenever I wanted to and to let him know if he could do anything for me. (This was his 2nd year in this dorm.) I thanked him and promised I'd come look him up if I needed help. He said goodbye to my parents and we went about the rest of the day.

**Fast forward 15 years with me**

August 31, 2006...an exhausted but very happy 30-something woman wakes up this morning to an alarm clock going off for the 3rd time. It's not her alarm clock, so she finally gently nudges the snoring man next to her in bed and politely (well, semi-politely perhaps) asks him to please turn it off. The snoring man finally awakens when a precious baby girl in the next room begins to stir and the baggy-eyed woman goes to settle her down. As he sits up to get out of bed and meet the day ahead of him, the man looks over his shoulder and says "15 years ago today..." to his wife.

The girl is me. The guy is Chris.

The sleepy Mommy is me. The snoring Daddy is Chris.


Can you believe it? 15 years ago today, I met the man of my dreams as he was carrying in my scrunchies, tampons, and slouch socks. The man I would come to one day call "Cabana Boy" walked into my life and it was pretty darn uneventful at the time.

He claims that he chose me from the line of cars because of my cute hair and "beautiful" eyes. I personally think it's because we parked pretty near the door, but again, that's just my take on it.

Amazing. Simply amazing. We met in 1991, didn't date until 1999, didn't marry until 2002, and here we are today.

Be nice to people around you, my friends. You never know how the person holding the door open for you at the bank will impact your life in the future. The person waiting next to you at the school bus stop when you're 15 might still be your friend when you are twice, and even three times as old. That waitress you work with at your meaningless Applebee's job might actually become a lifelong friend. The *very* cute boy who helps schlep your crap into your dorm room might turn out to be your very own Prince Charming. (Too bad he still WEARS those same shoes, and I'm NOT kidding.)

15 years ago today, I met my very best friend in the whole, wide world. The road to him was long, winding and full of potholes and idiots. I would do it all again in a heartbeat to end up in the same place, and I feel confident that he would, too. He's pretty much the best thing that ever happened to me because none of the other blessings in my life would be possible without his love. I'm so thankful for him and for our marriage -- CLEARLY it was built upon friendship.

One thing though...

CRAP, does this make me feel OLD. Old and loved, but still old.

I love you, Cabana Boy. You mow a darn fine lawn.

Where to start?

Ever ask yourself that one?

I do. Like when I want to clean and declutter my house. (I know from talking to many of my friends that this is a theme for lots of us right now.)

I made myself a list of things I want to accomplish in September and am trying to check them off. So far I've done one -- and we're in the process of #2. The thing is -- I look around and I'm tempted to have about 25 half-done projects going at the same time.

Where to start? Where to start?

I guess I started with the list, didn't I?

*patting myself on the back*

Now I can just sit back and wait for it to take care of itself. Ha ha!!

In a nutshell...

Anyone else have Mike Myers in their heads saying "Look, I'm in a nutshell!" LOL He's such a goof.

So, how exactly DO you put a 6 month old in a nutshell? I don't know but I'll try.

Georgia is 6 months old today and I'm feeling nostalgic about how quickly it's gone as well as more blessed than I'm ever grateful enough to realize. I know I'm her Mommy, so of course to me she is the most beautiful baby that ever was -- okay, well -- she's tied with another little boy I once knew. :) Don't read this as a brag -- read this as the liner notes to my Mommy's heart.

*Even when I was pregnant with her, I knew she was full of energy. My delivery nurse told me he'd NEVER seen a baby that active in labor. At least 4 times people came running in because she'd kicked the monitor off and they thought she was crashing. Chris and I just laughed because every staff member that came in was amazed at how enormous her movements were and how CONSTANT. We were used to it, but it really was something to see. Know what I feel sad about? We never took a video of my belly jumping around. You'll just have to take my word for it.

*She was INSTANTLY engaged with us after her birth. The funny thing is that everyone who was just commenting about what a crazy person she was in my belly were then astounded that she was SOOOO alert right away. Ummmm, hello? Doesn't the logic follow there? I knew she'd be wide awake and trying to take it all in.

*Her spirit is so much bigger than her body, and she's always been like that. She is seriously (seriously.) just happy to be alive. Happy to be in the room. Ever since her first day here, she hasn't complained much unless her belly is empty. (Actually, I'm glad that she doesn't tolerate messy diapers as well as her brother -- I'm hoping that means good things for potty training speed.) She has always been just excited for you to make eye contact with her.

*Her smile is contagious. She figured it out early and whips it out often. Combine it with those big, brown, engaging eyes and she's a tough one to ignore.

*I think her giggle is on the angel's soundtrack. I'm not kidding -- you can't not laugh yourself when you hear it, or at least smile, even if you are in an exceptionally bad mood. You can tell she's laughing from her soul, and because she's TRULY happy. The really great part of this is that at least 70% of the time, she's laughing at her big brother.

*Speaking of Mitchell, I think that their little sibling love affair started before she even got out. I remember him trying to put one of those little teeny pumpkins in my belly last Halloween. When she started getting active in there, she'd ALWAYS perk up when he talked to my tummy, even if she had been quiet for hours.

*I am glad to say that she appears to be a goofball like her Momma. Having a sense of humor has gotten me into trouble in the past, but most of the time it helps more than anything. She's got one. I assure you. The girl has a sense of timing. She knows just when to slap someone. Her ability to blow raspberries is always done with a flawless sense of exactly when and toward whom they should be directed. I hope that when she starts mocking me I'm able to remain appreciative of her humor. (Eeeee. Just thought of myself in middle school and got the bad kind of goosebumps. Uh-oh.)

*She's already challenging me in ways that I never knew she could. See, I'm used to raising an observer -- a slow to come out of his shell and explore child. She has NEVER been that way. Their births are perfect examples -- I'm convinced he was in jumping jack position in the birth canal, wedging himself in there because he needed more time to get comfortable with arriving in this world. It took me 3 hours to get that child out by pushing. Not Georgia -- 20 minutes later and there she was with everyone asking if she was a c-section because her head was unscathed. Nope -- she just wanted to get out and start the party. She wants to hold everything, open everything, eat everything, play with everything. She wants to go, go, go. Now. Yesterday, as a matter of fact. This little go-getter personality is new to me on the motherhood front. It's like raising myself, and let me tell you how scary that is. It's official -- we have a little Chris and a little Tara. I predict big love, lots and lots of laughing, and fights worth remembering when they happen.

*She couldn't POSSIBLY be any sweeter. She hasn't yet said a word (well, I think one day she was saying "ato" for Mitchell, but it hasn't happened again), but this little girl can TALK to you. She is the most expressive little girl and there is absolutely NO doubt about her love for us or trust in us. That in itself is the most precious gift she can give.

What a job, to be a Mommy. Specifically to her. I can't believe this 6 months has flown by. It seems like just yesterday I was putting together her carseat and stroller and just Wednesday I put together her BIG girl carseat and took the baby seat attachment off of the stroller. Today I have lots of little clothes to pack away. Wednesday is her doctor visit and I know he's going to tell me to start feeding her food. As much as I know she'll love it, I don't want to. That means she's taking yet another step away from being the tiny, precious little life that I knew would grow too fast. I think instead of mourning the baby that's growing too quickly, I will instead cherish the sweet, adorable, unique little girl that I am blessed to call my daughter.

(In case you're wondering, yes -- I did cry as I typed this whole thing.)

My prayer today is that she is always as blessed in her own life as we are to have her in ours.

I love you, Love Bug. Happy half birthday, baby girl. I know you will do great things.

What's the name of that song?

I'll tell you -- it's a little tune that preschool/kindergarten teachers and parents everywhere call INSANITY.

Okay - - babies/children should come with a warning like cigarettes. It should read something like this:

"Warning: These children will bring stupid songs into your life and brain that you will NEVER be free of, and you may be driven insane as a result. Though completely ridiculous, you will often find yourself singing them, even when your children are nowhere to be found."

Here's an example...there is a Dr. Pepper commercial with this ridiculous "Manamanah" song in it. I had that song in my head for a good calendar year before the commercial put it there (I believe that's called an earworm) -- it's on one of Mitchell's Sesame Street cd's. Who needs to be wandering around with that soundtrack playing?

Would you like more of a sampling?

"Let's have a race, have a race, have a race! WHO can be the quickest? WHO will be the fastest?" That would be Thomas the Tank Engine.

By the way -- I found a good site for free kids' music downloads/listening in case you, too would like to take your own sanity on a vacation. (I find it hilarious that someone actually posted a message to tell others "I like this song" about Jimmy Crack Corn. Clearly I'm not on the bottom rung quite yet.)

Okay -- off to wait for Kermit the Frog to finish singing about singing (oh, the agony) so that I can sing it myself in the shower here in a few minutes.

Seriously...
(I love Grey's Anatomy...they talk like me!!)

Taking time to smell the flowers...

Is that a dumb saying or what?

Dumb, but I'm here to tell ya people, it's true.

Yesterday, that's exactly what we did and we had an amazingly peaceful, fun, happy day. Usually we're on the go, running errands, cleaning, doing yardwork, etc. on the weekends. Not yesterday.

I got up with the kids around 7:30 and we came downstairs and Georgia did her morning Jumperoo routine (which she's currently doing now) and Mitchell played trains and watched cartoons. We all had some cereal (yep -- all of us) and then Daddy came downstairs and had his cereal. We all got dressed and went for a walk.

Chris helped Mitchell with his tricycle and I pushed Georgia in M's old single stroller. We weren't on a schedule, so if there was a group of ants working on the side of the path, we stopped to watch them. There were lots of wildflowers growing and we LITERALLY stopped to smell them.

As Mitchell was pedaling himself down the path ahead of us, I told Chris that the picture of him doing that will be in my head forever. Burned in there. I think it's because he was the perfect example of a little boy's innocence. He had on his Dale Jarrett hat, just like Daddy and he told me on the walk "Hey, Mommy - I'm Dale Jarrett!" He was making vroooooommmm sounds as he pedaled as fast as his little legs would go and it was clear -- in his mind, he wasn't on a wildflower lined path through our neighborhood, he was IN the Daytona 500! Watching him from behind, I knew that someday that imagination and that innocence will begin to be taken from him -- the world doesn't allow us to carry those with us for too long. So, I decided to do that right then -- burn into MY brain so I'd never forget it. I told Chris I'm sure it will be in my head when it's time to get his learner's permit. I'll be in tears remembering my little DJ pedal down the path.

Anyway -- we went to the park and had a great time. We had the whole place to ourselves, which was fantastic. Sometimes it's nice if there are other kids for Mitchell to play with, but yesterday it was nice to just be the four of us. Georgia took her first ride on the big swing and loved it. She would giggle every time she came forward towards us and couldn't quite figure out what in the world Mitchell was doing next to her (he was going sky high in his). Georgia and I raced Mitchell down the side by side slides. Georgia and Mitchell played a very lovely duet on the piano. Chris showed Mitchell how to REALLY splash in a rain puddle with your hands. I laughed with Chris and said "Ahhhh, suburbia." One day I was REALLY glad to live in a happy little neighborhood.

We walked home and Mitchell pedaled away again. He did try to crash a bbq at the little picnic table shelter near the park, which amused us all -- and thankfully the bbq'ers, too. We got home and Chris made us all a yummy brunch. (He makes a very good breakfast burrito.) Ate that and then we just all chilled out in the living room. Georgia went to bed somewhere in there. The race was on, so the boys had fun watching that while I did some reading and dinking around on the web. Mitchell snuggled up with me on the sofa and fell asleep. Precious. That doesn't happen very often anymore.

After our long rest time, Chris and I were both itching to just get out of the house and "go do something" but we didn't want to spend any money. So, we decided to stop at the store, get some snacks and head to the airport. Mitchell is fascinated with airplanes right now, so we parked at the waiting area and watched the planes land. None of them took off right in front of us until about 2 minutes before we left the parking area. Kind of a bummer.

Not to be denied, Chris decided to drive back by the car rental places alongside the runways. With all the new security things, you can't just stop on the side of the road to watch anymore, which is a necessary shame. We did find a pretty good spot just next to the gas station and when we rolled down the windows, Mitchell got to HEAR those engines roar as they took off just a few hundred yards from the car. He would absolutely light up like a candle and yell "Wow, Daddy, what do you call it???" and Chris would tell him what kind of plane it is. (I guessed 737 at every one and was never right, in case you are wondering.)

Headed home and played some trains and racecars. Rattled some rattled, stacked some blocks. Chris made dinner (yes, I'm aware that he spoils me on the weekends) which was totally yummy. The kids were both wiped out from our really long but fun day, so we skipped baths and just got them into bed.

Seriously, people...that kind of day could very well be the stuff heaven throws my way.

Frustrating...

I'm kind of frustrated right now.

I'm frustrated at certain members of my family for not treating each other with more love and respect.

I'm frustrated at myself because when I'm tired and grumpy, I'm less patient with my own kids.

I'm frustrated with finances. All I want to say on that.

I'm frustrated with wanting more than I have because I really should be much more appreciative of what I already have instead of focusing on what I want and *think* we "need".

I'm frustrated with this world -- it's becoming more and more difficult to just live your own life with a smile every day. People are hateful and sick -- not all people, but enough of them to make you question many people who don't deserve it.

I'm frustrated in general. It will pass. I think this is a function of me being up since 2:30 this morning. A nap would likely help. A lot.

A trip to Sam's...

So, this will be lacking in direction and probably a snoozefest -- there's your chance to avoid a waste of a few minutes.

I took Mitchell to Sam's Club yesterday while Chris stayed home with Georgia. Armed with a juice box, two snacks and a lollipop, I was fearless in my attempt to go to the craziest store with a 3 year old at tantrum o'clock. (This is what I call his old naptime -- he usually doesn't nap anymroe but he can still throw a doozy of a tantrum and this is usually when it happens.) I think I got so excited at the chance to take just one child as opposed to two that I jumped in with both feet and didn't stop to think about how it *could* go. If you've ever attempted Sam's on a Sunday with children of any age -- you know it has the potential to play out like a horror film, a sitcom, or a drama. Very rarely is it a documentary.

I was listening to a cd on the way there and Mitchell had his new plane that Chris bought him at the train show on Saturday (I know -- go for trains, come home with a plane -- it's a guy thing, apparently) and all was well on the drive over. I should have been suspicious when my choice of cd -- not silly time cd-- was not met with complaints, but I just let John Mayer sing to me and didn't think twice about it. That is, until I opened the back door to get Mitchell out and saw that he was ASLEEP!!!

Oh, crap.

This is like the ultimate blow to my Sam's Club shopping hopes. I gently woke him up and told him we were at the store. He perked right up (unheard of!) and got into the cart without a problem -- so far, so good. (Amazingly.) I start to question my parking spot -- next to the cart catcher spot...will a closer spot lead to a ding or dent that I'll have to explain to my husband? "But Honey...it was like I was SUPPOSED to park there -- right in front and waiting for me!" I can hear him now "Yeah, because everyone else knows better than to park right next to the cart catcher!! Why do you think it was available??" I picture my half-hearted "Oops" as my only reply as Mitchell and I steer ourselves into the store, flash my card, and BAM. Instant panic set in as I looked up.

Oh, crap.

There were more people in that store than I think live in my entire zip code -- and we're getting crowded over here. I've NEVER seen it that busy. Ever. Not good with a tired three year old who's mantra is now "I can walk, Mommy." Yeah, right. You haven't walked since you learned how to run. So, I do the "good mom" thing (ha) and whip out some raisins. "RAISINS!!! Hooray!!" Score. Bought myself a few minutes with those.

*sigh of relief*

It's sample day! Not excited for me -- well, unless there's ice cream or cheesecake today -- but that builds in the element of surprise for Mitchell in ol' snackville. (I'm convinced that's why he likes going there.) We made our way around the store -- avoided carts like a pro, Mitchell scored a few samples (my hopes were dashed -- roast beef was the highlight), and then BAM! The panic came back in a giant wave. We had to wait in line TO WAIT IN LINE.

Oh, crap.

Seriously -- the chutes (I feel like I'm part of a cattle herd, so I refer to them not as lines, but as chutes) were backed up so far that we were like 4 people back just to turn the freakin' corner to get in line. Isn't that crazy??? At this point I start questioning the sanity of my shopping choice for both day and time.

I know I'm not alone in saying that no matter which chute I choose, it will inevitably end up being the slowest. It's like my presence shifts the planets and titlts everything away from me or something. I just picked a line and stood there -- confident, almost arrogant about my chute choice. Inside of two minutes and...

Yeah, baby!! We moved. Forward. Towards the register. Amazing.

Now, I know better than to get more excited than that at this point. The man in front of me only had two items, which is always scary -- those are the ones that usually end up screwing the whole thing up. He was extra scary, he had a computer of some sort. (And a bag of potatoes??)
That has some SERIOUS screw me up potential because of the price, help delivering some sort of desk to accompany his computer, etc. The possibilities are endless. As I'm pondering whether 2 Item Guy will be the downfall of my otherwise enjoyable trip to Sam's with my very well behaved little guy, an angel appears and my hope is renewed!

The lady with the little scan gun came to MY chute and began scanning the items of everyone's carts. I was 4th in line so I thought for sure she'd do 2 Item Guy's potatoes and then go do the first 3 people in the next chute. Nope. She actually came to me -- overflowing cart and all, scanning my items and offering a huge bonus -- entertainment for Mitchell. (By this time, his popcorn was eaten, the juice box was empty, and the novelty of the giant ceiling fans had worn off.) She even had to scoot our cart up twice while scanning us in. Nice! After she finished, another bonus revealed itself to Mitchell -- the little coin roller coaster for charity. You know where you put in a coin and it does the figure skating death spin (without a partner) before dropping into the hole...it was RIGHT next to us. As a reward for his wonderful behavior in the store, I did the unthinkable -- an entire dollar worth of quarters went in. (You may be unaware that I hoard quarters in my change purse. I don't know why, but I do. Then, when I feel like it's too bulky, I put them in the kids' piggy banks.)

Oh, crap.

2 Item Guy was at the register, and sure enough -- he and the register lady were having some sort of discussion about his computer. (I'm assuming it wasn't the potatoes.) Could it be??? The manager came over about 30 seconds later, found a button on the register and he immediately zipped his credit card through!!

SCORE!!!

We got up to the register as the last quarter was falling through the hole, and sure enough, all of the items were already in the computer. I didn't have to unload and reload my cart!! (I had halfway convinced myself that everything would have disappeared or something so I wouldn't be too disappointed when that was the case.) I paid and was out of there in about 2 minutes!

SCORE AGAIN!!!

I have to say -- this is honestly my first trip to Sam's Club (not alone or just with Chris) that was truly enjoyable and more along the "documentary" lines. I know it doesn't sound like an exciting event to many of you, but to me - - this was huge.

Now I'm worried about next time.

People really upset me...

Okay, fair warning -- I'm about to go off on a vent so skip it if that doesn't interest you.

WHY are people so rude?? Seriously.

This morning I had just dropped the kids off at my IL's house to go see a client and some idiot who was leaving a garage sale on their block pulls out and almost (I mean -- like inches) nails me right in the middle of my passenger door. Didn't even look! Just must have been thinking about what a TERRIFIC set of dishes they got for $2 or something, I guess. The thing is...

She honked AT ME!!!!

Excuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuse me???? I don't think so. Now -- two things stopped me, well 3, from getting out of my car and starting some crap. 1 -- I was in the 'hood. (Seriously, they live in a pretty sketchy neighborhood.) 2 -- I was late to see a client. 3 -- My kids need me alive.

Where does SHE get off honking AT ME??? I was just driving down the road (25 mph -- not like I was racing down the stree) minding my own business. SHE was parked on the side of the street, DIDN'T use a turn signal, and DIDN'T even THINK about looking in her mirror or over her shoulder before she came out into the road, but feels that I'M in the wrong??? Ohhhhh, no, no, no, no no. Pissed me right off.

Moving right along...

WHY are people so hateful???
This whole thing with the liquid bombs. COME ON...that is just some crazy crap. I cannot for the life of me imagine what it must be like inside of those people's heads to 1 -- think that crap up and 2 -- actually want to use it to kill innocent people. I mean, it's not like you're killing soldiers and politicians. Ugh. Hate. Sucks. Bad.

What kind of environment are these people raised in and breeding? You know -- I heard this morning that one of the people is a mother of a 6 month old child. Okay -- that hit home. THAT'S ME, for crying out loud. Can you even picture me leaving my home, my children, and saying -- okay, I'm off to blow up a plane of innocent people with something I'm masquerading as Powerade???

WHAT THE HECK, PEOPLE????!!!!!!

It just makes me so angry. And you know what else? It makes me really, really sad for my kids. Times like this are times that a part of me actually feels somewhat guilty for bringing them into a world where this is a reality. Someone is using Gatorade as a weapon, for all intents and purposes. That's super.

So, you know what I did last night? Mitchell and I made a cake. And we covered it with icing. And I drew a moon on it in yellow icing (he loves "Moonah"). And he covered it with sprinkles. And we laughed. And we had a "moon party" when Daddy got home. Just for fun. To remind me of WHY I have children and why it IS a good thing that I brought them into this world. My children will not be taught to HATE anyone.

Caffeine...

Is NOT my friend.

I met a friend (a real one) for coffee this morning and decided to be brave and get a caffeinated drink. It sounded REALLY good -- all minty and chocolatey -- two of my favorite things ever.

So NOT the smartest move I've ever made.

After coffee I went to Qdoba (yum, and more yum) to get lunch for my dad. It's his birthday and he's working all day. He can't leave at all, so I told him Georgia and I would bring some lunch down. He loves the chicken tacos there so I stopped to get some. I had to pick Mitchell up from school at 1pm and this was at about 11am. By the time I got her out, used the bathroom, ordered our food, got it all set in the car, drove down there, parked walked in, nursed her, let him hold/cuddle her for a few minutes, it was time to get in my car and drive back to school.

I got a naked (hee hee) burrito and for a minute, I seriously considered trying to eat it while driving. Um--yeah, probably smart move not to, considering it's rice and black beans. Well -- considering it's not GASOLINE, I'd probably be safe. (Husband story there -- you can infer away.)

So -- by the time I made it back to his school (a few minutes early) I think the coffee had eaten a hole in my stomach. I was ready to gnaw my own arm off and scarfed down most of my lunch in about 3 minutes.

Caffeine + Tara = Ouchie, hungry tummy

It sure was good though. Mmmmmmm.

Still not worth it, but dang close.

Faaaarrrrrrr from perfect.

That would be me.I try so hard to set a good example for my kids, and heck -- just to do some clean livin' for myself, but it's a challenge. Here's an example...

Last Sunday I was cleaning the kitchen and listening to my favorite Christian radio station. My hubby calls it "God Rock" and teases me about it -- I don't really care. (So neener, neener to YOU, hubby!!) I love listening because the songs put me in a good mood and a good frame of mind.

Well, I am cleaning away and he comes in to eat his breakfast. He chooses a bowl of cereal and eats it leaning against the counter while he talks to me. This song comes on that I just love and I say, "Hey -- listen to this song. It always makes me cry. I love it." He says, "Why do you love a song that makes you cry?" Of COURSE, I shush him loudly and tell him to just listen. He listens. Then he says "This SERIOUSLY makes you cry??" and rolls his eyes. He puts his dish in the sink and comes behind me to do a little snuggle and ear kissing. Okay -- TOTALLY not in the mood for that as I am trying to listen to my heart-string-tugging song. He thinks he's just too funny, so I turn around and tell him to quit being such an A-hole.

Yes, that's right. In the middle of a Christian song about flying to Jesus, I cuss at my husband.He starts cracking up and says something about "Only you would do that".

Yikes.

I think he may be right. I apologize to The Big Fella immediately and am just mortified. Know the scary thing? I probably wouldn't have even put it together if he hadn't pointed it out. Luckily G was asleep and M was in train hog heaven in his room, but STILL. Sheesh.He's right -- who DOES that sort of thing? I mean, besides me.

So...clearly, there's room for a little personal growth in my life. (I'm sure that's shocking to you, isn't it?)

As long as I'm on the subject of great Christian music that I love -- here is a new song that I really, really love. It makes me think of not only myself with some different things, but so many people in my life that are struggling with so many different things -- yet it fits us all.

It's by a band called Casting Crowns.

Praise You In This Storm
I was sure by now
That You would have reached down
And wiped our tears away
Stepped in and saved the day
But once again, I say “Amen”,
and it’s still raining

As the thunder rolls
I barely hear
You whisper through the rain
“I’m with you”
And as Your mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise the God who gives
And takes away

I’ll praise You in this storm
And I will lift my hands
For You are who You are
No matter where I am
Every tear I’ve cried
You hold in Your hand
You never left my side
And though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm

I remember when
I stumbled in the wind
You heard my cry
You raised me up again
My strength is almost gone
How can I carry on
If I can’t find You

As the thunder rolls
I barely hear
You whisper through the rain
“I’m with you”
And as Your mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise the God who gives
And takes away

I lift my eyes unto the hills
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord
The Maker of Heaven and Earth

Picture people...

Not the place, US.

My family -- we're picture people. We take pictures all of the time -- no joke, I keep my camera in my purse and it's a rare day that it doesn't get used. One of my fave shows is AFV, btw -- it feeds my camera/video habit.

In preparation for my little scrapbook day today, it took me over 2 hours to go through all of the pictures just from Mitchell's birth to 1st birthday and choose the ones I wanted to print out!! It was so fun to look at all of them and remember all of the things that were going on. That's why I *love* scrapbooking -- you get to put it all together and recall all the stuff going on in the background and in the hearts and minds of those in the pictures. I get happy thinking about leaving such treasures for my family to enjoy (and they BETTER, dang it!!) long after I'm gone.

I got to thinking how sad I would be if I wasn't raised in a picture-happy family. My husband, for instance, does not have very many pictures of when he grew up. They have some, but not like ours. (Okay -- we're a bit insane on that point, but still.) I just feel like it's so fun and important to document the life we live. I know that Mitchell LOVES to look at pictures with me and it would be pretty sad if we didn't have all of them to remember.

I do need to get a bunch blown up, framed, etc. I think part of it is that I'm so OVER our house. I mean, I love it, but why am I gonna pour all this money into decorating it when I can't wait to get out? I think I'll save that as a pet project when we move.

Okay -- that was a pretty random topic, huh?

Do Fathers Have Identity Confusion, Too?

Okay -- so this week I've been reading on the birth boards I am part of, friends' blogs, friends of friends' blogs, and have listened to others as I talk to them (live and in person, even!). There's a pattern about women having identity confusion when they become mothers -- I've even blogged about it myself. So, my question is this:

Do men struggle the same way? My short answer is not so much.

I mean, go anywhere, talk to any mom, read her blog, etc. and you will hear that repeatedly she is faced with a completely overwhelming challenge: remembering who she was/is ASIDE from being a mom. Is this the case with men? Is it a huge challenge for them to remember who they were/are ASIDE from being a dad? Not in most cases, I think.

So many women get so completely engrossed in the whole "mom" world that they lose sight of what they used to enjoy. (And I guarantee you, it wasn't apple juice, goldfish crackers, and train time.) I know I struggle with that -- I LOVE to scrapbook and haven't done ONE page in over 2 years. It's so depressing!! I really, truly love it but there are several things getting in my way. Time, space, and the fact that I have to spread my stuff out, hope that little hands don't mess with all of it, and then clean it up again. I think I've put more of my creative energy into cooking lately, but still -- why have I given it up? Because the more our family grows and changes, the further down the priority list it goes. It wasn't until last week when I went to my friend's house that I realized how much I miss it and how much enjoyment I get out of it. She said that she makes it a priority and even takes her kids to daycare one day when she's tracked off to do it. (She teaches at a year-round school.)

What? You actually take time for YOU??? How DARE you!!!

Dang, Gina...that sounds like a GREAT idea!!!

So, guess what I'm doing this weekend? Chris is out of town on a guys' golf weekend (and not looking back, I'm sure) so I'm taking M all day and G for half a day (the boobs can only take so much) to my mom's house and I'm going to scrapbook ALL day!! I'm taking my friend's advice and only stopping to pee and eat/drink. Me. Alone. With my scrapbook stuff. I can't wait!! Today during "quiet time", I'm ordering copies of the pictures I want to use from Walgreens so I can be all set. I'm so excited.

For the record being "just a mom" is better than anything in the world. Except, of course, if you happen to be: Tara the 33 year old woman who is married to her best friend, loves a great cup of coffee (decaf), ice cream, laughing, watching sports, hates to dust, has more girlfriends than she probably deserves and loves every single one of them, is trying valiantly (ha!) to shed some pounds, drives a freakin' minivan for the good of the group, has a mad crush on Tim McGraw, can't handle margaritas like she used to, would love to have enough money to buy herself some really cute purses and shoes. Oh -- and she happens to be blessed with two little people that she can't even imagine loving any more -- except for when they call her "Mommy".

So -- what's the answer? Guys??? Oh wait -- this blog is a boy's worst nightmare -- none will ever read these words. Ladies, ask your men. :)

Addendum to part 2...

As my fine friend, Jamie has so clearly noted,

"The trains! What about the trains?"

Am I the biggest moron or WHAT??? I think perhaps I'm still numb from what we now refer to as "The Train Incident" at the museum.

Yes, yes...the trains. Trains don't make him happy -- that would be the understatement of the world. They make him a wee bit insane, but I mean that in the best possible way. (Hopefully someone out there knows what I mean.) Trains are the Holy Grail of this three year old's life -- in fact, a different train gets the privilege of sleeping on the nightstand every night. (Tonight it's Terence the Tractor, in case you're wondering.)

In a moment of nostalgia not long ago, I reread my blog entries and wouldn't you know it, Thomas the Tank engine was driving me crazy. Driving ME crazy because it makes him INSANELY happy. Like I expressed then, I know there will be a day when I will miss the Thomas obsession because it means I have a big boy whose list of happy things will be much, much different. (And likely much, much more disturbing to me as a mother.)

Okay - - I just felt that this needed its own little space.

Dang -- seriously!!! How in the WORLD could I not have listed the trains? Jamie -- get out the bike and run my butt over, would ya????

In case you're wondering (part 2)

Here is an abbreviated list of the things that make 3 year old boys (well, again -- this one at least) really happy:

*A baby sister that you can squeak at and poke and who thinks you're funny when you do the running man in just your NASCAR underwear.

*Any sort of processed food is golden. Grandparents are total jackpots for this sort of thing.

*Chocolate milk. 'Nuff said on that one.

*Motion. Jumping, running, hopping, rolling around, wrestling, crawling, bouncing, etc. Before I had kids I was unaware how short the period of time for "walking" was. I think he walked for about 2 weeks before he ran and hasn't walked again.

*Investigating. Why did that happen? What do you call this? What are you doing? Why do your legs jiggle? (Ya like that one??)

*Making a mess. Messy kid = successful day at work.

*Cartoons.

*Singing songs and listening to silly music. Recently making up songs about ANYTHING has become a favorite past time. "My spoon is goooiinnnngggg into my yooogurt. It's gonna beeeee soooooo yummy in myyyy tuuuuummmmyyyy."

*Being outside. Given the option, they would likely live outside and never return to anywhere with four walls.

*Unless there are popsicles and/or ice cream inside of those 4 walls. 3 year olds are known to do just about anything for a cold treat on a hot day. Or a cold day -- they don't usually discriminate.

*Repetition. Doing, saying, watching and hearing things over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over.

*In direct contrast to things they don't like, 3 year old boys are quite fond of SAYING the word "no". It's frequently heard each and every day, sometimes as early as 6:30 a.m.

*Making demands: give me, let me, I want, let's go, you go, etc.

*Animals -- any kind, anywhere. Animals are definitely "in" with the 3 year old set.

*Hugs and kisses. Fortunately for a sappy mom, the 3 year old under this roof still enjoys cuddle time.

*Doing things independently. To the point of frustration. In some instances, will then turn on parents because they didn't help (even though they were clearly instructed NOT to help by the not-yet-frustrated 3 year old).

*Playing. Playing. Playing. Water is good -- anytime you can incorporate water into the play, it's a total bonus.

I could go on and on and on...in general, life with a 3 year old boy is messy, hilarious, frustrating, full of surprises, exhausting, exhilirating, and I wouldn't trade one second of the madness for all of the money in the world.

Well -- maybe the potty training ones I would. But that's a whole different Oprah.

In case you're wondering...

...here is a short list of things that drive three year old boys (errr---maybe just this one) crazy:

*The word "no" in any combination with "you may not", "we can't", "thank you", "he/she/they isn't/aren't".

*Finishing a meal -- any meal -- ever. UNLESS, you don't ask them to. Then they'll finish.

*Any vegetable on their plate. If it's on your plate, there's a much better chance of them asking for some.

*Naps. Laying down. Resting. Being quiet. Any of the above.

*Rules meant for safety. Like please don't jump from the 3rd stair. Please keep your hands away from the stove. Please don't put that blanket over your head and spin in circles near the sharp-cornered table. Things like that -- they are not so much fans of those.

*Lotion. Regular or sunscreen.

*Manners. (Okay, some of the time this is okay.)

*Tissues. Fingers are so much more readily available.

*Getting fingernails/toenails clipped. Don't EVEN get me started on this one.

*Coming in from outside. This is a biggie and requires lots of advanced warning.

*Taking a bath unless it's their idea.

*Turning the tv off or (God forbid) watching a show that they did not choose.

*Having their hair combed and teeth brushed -- yes, the pattern is grooming = not happening.

*Sharing -- this is hot and cold but pretty much not a fan of sharing fun stuff.

Just a sampling. Maybe tomorrow I'll do things that make 3 year old boys (or at least this one) exceptionally happy.

I am my own worst enemy...

I am a procrastinator -- I make myself late.

When I am late, I am cranky.

When I am cranky, my children are cranky.

That makes us even later because it's harder to get a little cooperation going.

When we're late other people get cranky.

All because I'm a procrastinator.

***********************************************************************

I would love to lose weight.

That would mean not loving food.

--Let me clarify--

That would not mean loving:
*ice cream
*wine
*french fries
*ice cream
*chocolate
*macaroni and cheese
*ice cream
*pretty much anything you're not SUPPOSED to eat a lot of
*Annnnnddd...ice cream

It would also help if I liked to work out.

*************************************************************

I love having my house clean, yet I am a lazy housekeeper.

Huh?

I love my house to be clean but I want someone else to do it.

Yes, I'm aware it doesn't work that way. I don't have to like it.

I just have to do it.

Someday I will.

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I love having down time.

I schedule myself out the wazoo with everything you can think of.

I complain because I never have any time to myself and am always on the go.

It is my handwriting with a pen that I hold in my hand that makes all of those plans.

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Know what I've done good?

Picked me a mighty fine husband who loves all of this crap.

Well, maybe not all of this crap, but he loves me and it comes with.

And we make some mighty fine children, too.

That's all that really matters, right??