ALEX PIE

Update on Homeschooling

2012-02-11T01:03:00.000-08:00

As many of you know, a few weeks into the third grade, I decided to school Vada from home. It was a big decision that I was rather nervous to make. So many questions ran through my mind. What about her social interaction with other children? What if I teach her the wrong way of solving a certain math problem? Will this effect her chances of being admitted into the college of her choice? Will Brad EVER give Angelina the boot and take Jen back?!

While it took us some time to find our groove, I believe we have finally figured out a system that works best for the both of us. The only area in which Vada still feels a small void is in the friend department. She still remains friends with one little girl from school, but other than that, her social interaction is limited to church and whichever city-sponsored class she chooses to be a part of each month (for now, it's drawing). I attempted joining a local homeschooling group, but that turned out to be unsuccessful. Most of the "field trips" weren't organized for all of the kids to be together as a group, and both Vada and I felt secluded during the ONE that was (especially when one of the moms was nice and chatty until she asked me a question that allowed her to put together how old I was when I pushed Vada out of my vagina).

I have been toying around with the idea of enrolling her in a charter school of sorts. The problems I have come across with that idea is that they are either too expensive, their educational standards are poor, or they don't provide free Starbucks coffee for the parents on Friday mornings. I have also thought about enrolling her back into the public school we're zoned for, but I really disliked the way things were going there, and how they were handled. Vada isn't too keen on that idea either. While she wants to have friends to play with, she doesn't want to "be around all of those bad influences" (her words, not mine. I swear!). I will admit, she was surrounded by some pretty worldly girls. It's sad really.

Another thing that diminishes my confidence in homeschooling is when I feel criticized about my decision. There are so many people out there that, when they find out Vada is homeschooled, ask "why?!", with this look of disgust on their face. As if I had just told them that I make her eat dog poop for each math equation she gets incorrect. How's this for an answer:

Because I was getting fed up with my daughter being physically and mentally abused during recess while the duty teachers stood around chitchatting about those delicious cupcakes in the teacher's lounge. Because I don't think it was fair that my child had to teach her peers how to do their assigned classwork, just because she finished hers before everyone else and the teacher was too busy entering information into the computer to do her JOB. Because I was getting sick and tired of answering questions like "mom, what is a condom?" to a THIRD GRADER. Because ever since I pulled her out of that school, her attitude has practically vanished.

I like knowing exactly what my child is being taught. I enjoy being able to work in God and biblical history into her lessons. I love being able to jam out to Two Door Cinema Club while making banana bread with her when she completes her school work before lunch. All in all, I love this experience, and I know she does too (even if I won't let her start the day off with watching one episode of Suite Life on Deck).

Baby on the Way

2012-01-27T17:33:00.000-08:00

For the past couple of months I have had a baby itch. I want to cuddle with a small bundle of sweetness. I want to share little baby kisses. I want to play with tiny baby feet.

Unfortunately, with a baby comes sleepless nights, less money in the bank, and additional time-consuming tasks that will drain our energies. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. However, that desire for another little kidlet can blur those things out.

Thankfully, the news that I will soon be an auntie of two came before Kyle and I decided to let my seeds be watered.

That's right. Kyle's sister Corissa and her husband, Tommy, are expecting their second little munchkin! I am SUPER excited! Not only will I get to kiss soft little baby cheeks soon, without having to deal with the 3 a.m. wake-up calls, but I can begin baby shopping. Yay!

Kyle is excited for that last part too. He loves it when I shop.

7 week old kidney bean

My shopping sprees will be limited for the next several weeks until it is revealed whether I need to be buying blue or pink. My credit cards are safe until that date.

2012-01-20T19:04:00.000-08:00

I hope you all have a wonderful weekend. In my opinion, it couldn't have come any sooner. Even though, with this cold occupying my body, it may be so wonderful at my house. Enjoy!

And a Happy Belated New Year to You

2012-01-14T01:58:00.000-08:00

Damn, I haven't been doing so great at this blogging mommy balancing act. I'm not even going to try to explain how chaotic things have been. To begin with, you more than likely wouldn't believe me. You would say to yourself, "she's making everything seem more stressful than it really is. As an excuse for slacking off." Then there's the fact that it would take hours for me type it all out, and after the first paragraph you would decide that watching Saved By the Bell re-runs is a better use of your time. But mostly because I just don't want to.

That being said, I hope you all had a wonderful and safe New Year. Broden and I rang in the New Year while simultaneously snoring with our heads on our pillows. Kyle, Kody and Vada spent the evening comparing apples to apples and other fun things at a friends house. I was having a tough time staying social after 9 p.m., and I couldn't stand even the thought of how monstrous Broden would be the next day if he stayed out until 1 a.m. Welcome to motherhood. I may stay up past midnight just about every day of the week, but I'm not forced to chit chat with 12 people at an hour when my brain has begun the shut down process. Beginning at approximately 9 p.m., my brain can only handle basic functions such as doing laundry, sweeping, washing dishes, and cleaning up dog pee. None of which require any conversation other than those with myself. And when you're the mother of a toddler, you are more than willing to sacrifice a couple hours of fun with friends just so you can get your child home, bathed, and in bed by their bedtime. That way the next day is much more pleasant. Not only for you, but for all of those that are forced to be around you and your child.

Out of curiosity, how many of you made a list entitled: New Year Resolutions of 2012? I have never been one to be too passionate about New Year resolutions. Though, I will admit, they are fun little lists to put together. Especially for someone who loves lists the way I do. So, naturally, I made one too.

I'll show you mine if you show me yours (wink).

Eh, I'll show you mine anyway (this thought process is what got me into trouble in high school...calm down, I'm only joking).

A Pie Lover's List of New Year Resolutions for 2012

1. Read at least three books per month.

This resolution was originally "read at least TWO books per month", but since I've already hammered out three books within the first two weeks of January, I bumped my expectations up to three books. If I can squeeze in more, then that's great, but since this is the first year that reading has been on my New Year Resolutions list I'm going to ease into it, like a good relationship. Why do I give this one the top spot? Because there are so many stories out there to be read, and it's my goal to read most of the good ones before I die. Since God has been procrastinating on letting me know when that may be, I better get a move on. The many benefits of reading is just an added bonus.

2. Get in shape.

Typically when I spew this out, I get comments along the lines of: "Why do you need to exercise?! You're so skinny already." I'm not saying this to rub my body type in your face. I'm saying this because although I know people are trying to be nice, I can't help rolling my eyes. No, I may not be overweight, but that certainly doesn't mean that I'm in shape. We, as a family, make a Tahoe bike ride, or two, every summer (I bailed on it two years ago because I had a little kidney bean setting up camp in my uterus), and there is one particular hill that laughs at me every time. Just when I think I might be able to make it, the nasty thing sends a burning through my calves and steals the air out of my lungs. Not this summer! I'm going to get myself ready for her. I will conquer! Know this though, I am NOT crazy enough to join a gym until March.

3. Post on my blog every Friday.

I already blew this one. Technically twice, because it's currently 1:17 on Saturday morning. But I'm going to forgive myself, and I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me too. It's never too late to start right? Or quit...depending on your situation. Sometimes, I may not have much to say, or the time to type more than "have a good weekend!", but I'm going to try. Mostly because I just enjoy writing. I love knowing that others read what I'm putting out there, but most of my enjoyment comes from simply putting my thoughts on the screen or paper.

4. Accessorize.

I know this was on my list last year, and I have become a tad better, but I'm still not great at it. I am ALWAYS forgetting to put jewelry on. Especially when I know Kyle is sitting in the car with the kids, focusing all of his energy on NOT going back inside to snatch me up and put me in the car, ready or not, so we're not late to church...again. Maybe my resolution should instead be: To stop pressing snooze five times on my alarm clock before I actually crawl out of bed. Hmm? I'll have to think about that one.

5. Travel as much as time and money will allow.

As some of you know, maybe most of you, I cannot wait to move out of Nevada. Sure, Tahoe is beautiful, but that's just about the only beautiful part. I used to think the Arizona desert was ugly...and then I moved here. But the sage brush covered mountains aren't the only things about this place that I want to get away from. The casinos here make me feel dirty. The shopping is slim pickin's. City planners here are missing a few nuts and bolts. And other reasons I best believe be kept off this here blog (that pots been stirred enough already). Since moving is out of the question being that Kyle is working out the purchase of the company he is working for, divorce or frequent traveling are my only options. Since I want to continue staying home with my children, divorce is not an option. You can laugh. That was supposed to be funny. So far on my list of travel destinations: Arizona, Colorado, and Texas.

That's all I have for now. I know I'm supposed to have my list complete come January 1st, but I tend to continue adding to it throughout the year. That's probably breaking some sort of rule, but it wouldn't be the first one I've broken this year.

Here's wishing you the best with your resolutions for 2012!

A Day in the Life

2011-10-21T11:38:00.000-07:00

The Retro Camera app is one of Broden's favorite app's to play with on my phone. With the assistance of this app, we get to see a typical day through his eyes.

A couple of the books I read approximately 12 times a day.

Vada trying to sneak in some iPod time between subjects.

Evening viewings of The Office.

IDK.

Checking on the puppies.

I took your valuable time into consideration when I decided not to post 20 pictures of Talking Rex.

You're welcome.

My Fish

2011-10-16T18:13:00.000-07:00

If I believed in reincarnation, I would be fully convinced that Vada was a fish in her past life. If given the choice, that girl would live in the water. She spent the majority of her summer vacation this year swimming in Grandma's pool, and missed it terribly when she came back home. In our neck of the woods we don't have super fancy junior high swimming pools to visit. No high dives, water slides, or surfing simulations. Sure, we have Wild Island, a water park almost as fun as SunSplash, but it costs an arm and leg to get into. I don't know about you, but I'm partial to my limbs, and so are my children.

Level Two

All of that being said, Vada is thrilled to be taking swim lessons through the City of Sparks Recreation Program. Unsure of any basics she may have missed, I signed her up for Level Two group swim lessons. We went to her first class two weeks ago and, overall, she enjoyed herself, but she was a tad disappointed. She was the oldest child in her class and she already knew everything they had covered that day. I told her to see how her next class went. If it was still too easy I would call and see about getting her bumped up to Level Three.

Level Three

Kyle took Vada to her next class while I stayed home with Broden and cooked dinner. When they came home, Vada informed me that the instructor spoke to Kyle regarding her skill level. "And guess what?! I'm in Level Three now!"

She was pretty stoked, and so was I. That saved me a phone call.

Recycled Toys

2011-09-23T21:59:00.000-07:00

For Broden's 2nd birthday, we bought him a kitchen play set from Ikea. Or, I should say I bought him the kitchen play set. Kyle wasn't with me when I bought it, and I wasn't certain that he would appreciate the idea as much as I did. When I was explaining to him what he was unloading out of the back of my parent's truck he didn't even bat an eye. Thank you God for saving me a weekend full of convincing.

It comes in handy quite a bit. He likes to make Vada and I Batman Soup while we are wrapping up her studies in preparation for her afternoon break. He helps me get dinner ready when my burners are out of commission. He washes all of his own dishes. It's rather wonderful.

As I was tying the bow on it just minutes before his birthday party, Kyle asks, "Did you get him any play food?" Sure, I had thought about it, but I really wanted him to use his imagination. And besides, I have a younger sister, I've babysat several children, and I used to work at a daycare. Therefore, I know that generally children could care less about the obviously fake cereal boxes and ice cream sandwiches. What do they really get a kick out of when it comes to kitchen/grocery play? The real stuff. Who would want to play with a squishy plastic cylinder when it's obvious that is NOT what your parents use when they are cooking dinner for the family?

Just like the real thing.

Taking a few tips from daycare teachers and children's museums, I made Broden his own "grown-up" spices. Once I had used up the contents of these jars, I simply filled one with rice and the other with dried pinto beans, cut small squares out of Saran Wrap to place under the lid (to prevent the rice from spilling out of the shaker holes), and Super Glued the lids on. He loves them! He will even take them to the dinner table and use them to "salt & pepper" his food.

Now I can't help standing in front of my pantry reviewing the inventory to see what I can make for him next. And you thought I had the munchies.

Hello again.

2011-09-16T13:12:00.000-07:00

Months! It's been MONTHS since I have posted on here! You may want to call me a slacker, but I assure you, I am far from. No, I'm not trying to pat myself on the back here; I'm just simply trying to give you a bit of understanding.

If stating that I have a 17-almost-18-year-old, an 8-year-old, a 2-year-old, and a husband to take care of isn't enough, then let me tell you that the past few months have been jam-packed with parties and party planning (birthday, boot camp send off, etc.), church gatherings, teeth pullings, decoration making, dish scrubbing, laundry washing, dusting, fly killing, iced tea making, meal cooking, rule enforcing, weed pulling, planting, homeschool planning, schoolbook shopping, bulletin board decorating, potty-training and much, much more. I'm surprised I can find time to sleep and read a few pages in my book everyday. Well, to be completely honest, there are times when I flat out ignore things I should do just so I can get a little shut-eye, but that's usually only after I have had five consecutive days, or more, of hitting the ground running in the morning after a night of stress-inducing dreams and being woken up at least once, but usually twice, by one or both of my children.

Do I hold the record for longest paragraph containing only two sentences?

I am so busy in fact that I have begun forgetting things that need to be accomplished. I even forget to look at the calendar in order to remember. Vada gets easily frustrated at my forgetful mind, yet likes teasing me about it the same time.

The majority of Vada's text books

Notebooks for completed school work

All of this may worry you as you recall that I mentioned homeschooling up there ^ somewhere. It definitely hasn't made it a breeze, but it's going well. I have a weekly lesson plan typed up and printed out that has saved a lot of time and stress this week (our first week on this new adventure). Today, both Vada and I have concluded that schooling goes along much smoother when she has had a full ten hours of sleep. When she misses her eight o'clock bedtime, the following day is filled with her getting frustrated with me, me getting frustrated with her getting frustrated, and her getting even more frustrated with me getting frustrated with her being frustrated. It's a vicious cycle that causes the day to mutate into one big horrible blob of horribleness. Hopefully we will get the hang of things within the next few weeks.

When I began contemplating homeschooling Vada I made it perfectly clear that I would need some extra help around the house. Broden's naps would no longer be filled with doing laundry and sweeping the floors. Instead, his naps would be consumed with grammar and reading lessons. While help has been given around the house here and there, it's about the same amount of help as I was receiving before. Sometimes it's less. I do not say this to accuse my family members of household negligence. I simply say this so you can try to understand just how full my days are. I have done the dishes for the past three days when only ONE of those days was actually my assigned "dishes day". I have taken out the trash four times this week (they are small bags) because the full, tied-off bag of garbage on the step in front of the door wasn't a big enough hint to "take out the garbage". I am constantly being asked to remember things for everybody else, yet don't understand why because I can't even remember my own things.

If you have never been a stay-at-home parent, then I don't think you can understand. Those of you who have never stayed home as your "job", in which you earn NO cash-o-lah, like to think that we stay-at-home parents sit at home catching up on our television shows or keeping up with our friends wall posts on Facebook while chowing down on chinese take-out, and at the same time the kids are playing nicely in their bedroom. While at least one of these days a month would be nice to have, this is so far from the truth as one could get. If we mention something that we have watched on TV it was at 10:30 at night when we have gone through every bedtime-stalling kid gimmick in the book and we are just now sitting down to fold three baskets of laundry but need Steve Carell's voice to keep our eyes from shutting against our will. Even as I am typing this I am teaching Vada that you must add es to form a plural noun when the noun ends in s, sh, ch, x, or z, and playing golf with Broden in the dining room.

I feel as if this has all been me whining in blog format, but really it's just a piece of my autobiography. The one I'm working on when I'm not vaccinating stray animals or finding homes for foster children.

Makeover - Boy Edition

2011-06-30T13:22:00.000-07:00

With Kody's camp being this week, he wanted a cooler look. Cooler as in: less head perspiration.

Fairwell Bieber. Hello Baldie.

Before:

After:

Personally, I prefer the shag. What do you think?

What do you do with high water pants on a hot summer day?

2011-06-23T14:52:00.000-07:00

One word: MANPRIS

Outdoor Time

2011-06-20T12:46:00.000-07:00

Now that the weather is warm, we're spending as much time outside as possible. And meeting some tiny friends while we're at it.

Our ladybug friend we met while
grooming the tree

He's there, I promise

Caterpillar Buddy

No such thing as a "free ride"

Our ladybug friend back for a visit

Wagon rides to pick up Vada from school

P.S. - Happy Belated Father's Day to all of those dads out there. Especially awesome ones like mine!

Poo Poo!

2011-06-13T16:18:00.000-07:00

If you were outside looking in, you would think this kid just pooped out diamonds.

His reward? A single Hershey's Kiss. I'll be stocking up on this commodity, which is the equivalent of gold to Broden, and gearing up to answer this question over and over: Why do you have a jar of candy on the back of your toilet?

In which I will reply: Just wait till you're a parent.

Arizona Vacation...In Photos

2011-06-10T14:14:00.000-07:00

I have secretly been dreading this post. Mostly because I told myself that I would still blog while in Arizona visiting my family and friends, but I neglected my blogger duties. I chose instead to lie in the morning sun, to sit on the patio and read while the kids played in the water, to cook healthy meals for my grandparents, and to stay out late enjoying the company of friends I rarely get to see.

It's been OVER A MONTH since my last post, and I suppose it's time to get back on the horse. Good thing I don't get paid for this right? Well, maybe some day...if I can prove I'm dedicated enough to post at least once a week, while on vacation or not.

I've spent the past couple days thinking about whether I should do one giant "Summer Arizona Trip 2011" post, or break it down gradually. To be honest, I still haven't really decided...until right...NOW. Okay, I just titled my post. So, as you already know, I'm going to do a run-through of our Arizona trip in photos. LET'S DO THIS!

Settled on the plane & ready for Phoenix

Petting the stingrays at the Phoenix Zoo

Broden's first haircut, compliments of Grandma

Many trips to Red Mountain Park

The GIANT treehouse structure at the Children's Museum of Phoenix.
I was daydreaming about building one in our backyard.

At the Arizona Science Center,
where the Monster Stomach was the main attraction for the kiddos.

Playing on the back patio

Celebrating Bethany's 13th birthday, red velvet style.

My Mother's Day gift. One strand for each child.

My new obsession: Potato Barn.
Not to be mistaken for Pottery Barn.

And to bring our wonderful trip to an end,
we spent the last day at Sunsplash.

Quick and simple. My preference...on weeknights.

A Few Things to Cover

2011-05-04T09:31:00.000-07:00

What a manically crazy weekend. I know, it's Wednesday, but it's taken me this long to recover from it. Please have pity on my soul.

It all began with Friday.

Friday was a little hectic from the get-go because I knew Broden would not be getting a nap. When I know this ahead of time my body automatically goes into defense mode. Things are good until about noon, which is when the plastic golf clubs start getting swung at animate objects and whole body fits commence. Why wouldn't Broden be getting a nap? Good question. That is because Vada had an assembly just after the start of school in which she would be receiving an Achievement Award, then an early release due to the fact that it was track off day.

"Vada is a meticulous mathematician whose patient persistence pays daily. Marvelous math Miss Snyder!"

But wait, did you catch that? Vada received an Achievement Award! Let's take this time to honor my favorite daughter.

After picking Vada up from school, along with a friend from her class (which was a little situation within itself. Let's just say: unplanned), we decided to run a few errands. And this is how they went: we drove half way to Lowe's just for me to realize I completely spaced to measure our front door, we went to Walmart (where I was enlightened in the "Vada's Friends" department), and our last stop was Raley's (quick and painless). Errands, check. Dinner, check. Girls going with Kyle to his softball game, check.

With Kyle and the girls at his softball game, Broden and I took the opportunity to cruise around the neighborhood in his new wagon. Well, I wasn't in the wagon. I was pulling because I lost at Paper-Rock-Scissors. He may only be 20-months old, but he's one fine competitor.

Saturday. We spent Saturday running all over Sparks. After taking Vada's friend home, we went to Lowe's late Saturday morning to purchase a few items (since I was a dung head on Friday), and to meet our brother-in-law so we could steal our niece for the afternoon. From there we dropped Vada off at a birthday party, went to Home Depot for the things Lowe's didn't have, grabbed a bite to eat at Quizno's, met up with my mother to hand Broden off to her so he could be there when she picked my dad up from the airport, went home for two seconds, picked Vada up from the birthday party, went to see Reed High School's performance of Hairspray, and went to my parents house for a belated birthday dinner in honor of Kyle. We didn't get home until...well...late.

Sunday. After morning church services we did an early Mother's Day lunch at my parent's house since myself and the kids will not be here this coming weekend. Once we were done eating, we went back home so Kyle could hang some blinds and install our attic ladder. Much of my efforts went to trying to convince Kyle NOT to hang the ladder because I had scheduled for someone to do it for him on Tuesday. It was supposed to be a surprise, but I was getting so frustrated with him that I just spilled the beans. That didn't change his mind. It just further motivated him, as if hiring someone to install it would take away his manhood.

Then comes Monday. The weekend may have been officially over, but the busy schedule was not. Kody and I had dentist appointments at 10 A.M. to get cavities filled. Yes, Kyle, I had two cavities from not flossing. Hardy-har-har. Bite me. Anyway, after we successfully had our teeth drilled into and veins popped, I chose to have Kody run some errands with me rather than take him back to school. My little way of saying, "Hey, I like spoiling you too." We had plenty of laughs about what people must have thought about us speaking with our hands over our mouths and not being able to say clearly any word containing the letters M or B. And Kody was rather impressed with his organizational grocery skills (it looked like this in the cart too):

Then there was yesterday, Tuesday. This was my cool down day. We only left the house once, and that was to snatch some frozen yogurt from Yogurt Beach.

Hammock Time

I have become obsessed with the Retro Camera App for my new iPhone 4, incase you haven't noticed.

We spent the day relaxing on the hammock, watching a couple movies, jumping on the trampoline, and only doing the chores necessary for the day.

Today will consist of more time consuming chores while tomorrow holds the promise of last minute errand-running before we take off for Arizona on Friday.

Life's Responsibilities

2011-04-25T13:46:00.000-07:00

Being a parent/guardian can be a tricky task. Not only must you provide for your child's needs (clothing on their back, food in their tummies, a pillow for their head at night), but it is also your job to make sure that they turn out like civilized human beings that can accept and fulfill life's responsibilities. This is where it get's tricky.

As a mother of two, legal guardian of one, and wife to one husband (I don't think I need to explain), life can get rather chaotic. Therefore, assigning chores to the other members of our family helps us all out. I can cook dinner without trying to clean the windows at the same time, and they learn how to accomplish basic housekeeping tasks that will, cross my fingers, be practiced regularly in their own homes when they are no longer living in mine.

"How is this tricky" you ask? Okay, you obviously don't have children then. Or if you do, you can count on them to be the ones living in that spare bedroom, the one you have dreams of turning into an office someday, until they reach the age of 35. Either that or you have perfect children, in which case I congratulate you. God must be saving your efforts for a greater cause.

I can't even count how many times I have had to mentally put myself in a field full of flowers in an attempt to keep my brains from shooting out of my ears because someone has either inadequately "completed" their chore, has simply chosen not to do one of their chores, has uttered a phrase along the lines of "why didn't you do it, you were home all day", or the chore was done with a serious display of attitude. And those are just the things that Kyle does!

So far, Broden is the only one who does his chore without complaining.

I knew he was a keeper.

Birthday Wishes to the Hubby

2011-04-19T10:40:00.000-07:00

A BIG "happy birthday" to my husband, who turns the old 2-5 today.

Yes, I realize that 25 is not old.

Yes, I do know that 25 is one year younger than me.

Yes, it does make me feel uncomfortable to be older than my husband.

Subject over.

Back to the original purpose of this post: HaPpY BiRtHdAy KyLe!

A New Kind of Gift Card Envelope

2011-04-16T23:00:00.000-07:00

Just over a week ago I was feeling the creativity about to burst out of my fingertips, so I decided to put it to use.

I had an empty jewel case sitting on my desk for months. It was thin and a cute yellow-orange color. I just couldn't bare to throw it away. I knew that I would eventually find a use for it, even if it took me three more months to figure out what that use would be.

Then it dawned on me one afternoon. I would jazz it up with some paper and jewels, making it a pretty gift card "envelope".

Here is the result:

I must admit, I'm fairly proud of how it turned out. Though, I should have used stamps for the birth date. That was pure laziness on my part.

I will have another one to show off in just a few months, but I don't want to ruin it for the recipient.

Spring Break Kickoff 2011

2011-04-12T09:19:00.000-07:00

Before you find yourself disappointed with the lack of photos of girls in bikini's dancing seductively to Katy Perry's overplayed, makes-me-want-to-shoot-my-brains-out hit song Firework on the beaches of Cancun while being filmed by 40-something-year-old creeps, let me remind you that I have two young children, I have BIRTHED two young children, and televised Spring Break bashes have always been lame.

Now that THAT is out of the way, let me show you how we kicked off Spring Break in our household:

We made some delicious little caterpillar/worm marshmallow crispy treats that I stole out of Disney's Family Fun magazine.

Vada's Electrifying Hair

Approximately eight hours has been spent jumping on the trampoline.

And games have been played.

I will admit though, if I get asked the question "what should I do now?" one more time, I may just scream. Vada is living proof that activities like reading and coloring for fun are becoming ancient pastimes.

Breakfast Time

2011-04-05T12:19:00.000-07:00

Originally, Broden was sitting at the head of the table. Once Vada sat down to eat her toast Broden demanded to be moved...right beside Vada. Literally. I scooted his chair closer and began to walk back into the kitchen, but he protested. Their chair seats HAD to be touching.

She thinks it's cute now, but I wonder how long Vada will tolerate him as her shadow.

Since the Sun Is Shining

2011-04-04T13:06:00.000-07:00

Man, I have been such a computer slacker this past week or so. For that I apologize. It's just, with this beautiful weather that we have been having I find it very difficult to sit my butt down to dilly-dally with electronics when I could be chalking up the sidewalks with Broden or doing some Spring cleaning in capris and a tank-top.

I've also been busy tuning up my craftiness. It's been getting a little rusty sitting unused in the basement of my mind for the past few months. The reason I dug it out was because Vada came home about two weeks ago with a note from her teacher explaining that the theme for their classroom's basket that will be placed in this years Basket Auction is "Made In Nevada". My first thought was: No big deal, I'll run down to the nearest little antique shop where there is no doubt some woman who rents out a booth, places an antique-looking table in it and sells homemade soaps and bath salts placed in Kerr jars purchased from Costco and purchase a few of them. Then a couple different thoughts hit me: (1) Why should I do that? I hate stepping into "antique shops" where at least five booths have not one antique/vintage item in them WHAT-SO-EVER, (2) I find it rather disturbing using homemade bar soap when I have no idea what kind of home it was made in (I'm the same way with potlucks. I keep an eye out for who brought what.), (3) and why spend the money when I could probably whip up something fairly cute out of things I already have in my craft stash?

That's when I came up with the bright idea to make a reusable grocery bag out of some left over material my mother gave me. I examined one of the reusable grocery bags I had in my car and figured it would be fairly simple, and it was. After lots of measuring, eyeballing, and flat-out guessing I popped that sucker out in just a few hours total. One of my measurements was a little off, but the bag is still functional. I will admit though, I cheated on the hemming tape. Instead of doing it the old fashioned way, I bought the iron-on kind. Partly because I just wanted to finish it, and the other part was because Jo-Ann's didn't have the classic hemming tape in bright blue. In fact, they didn't have bright blue in any type of hemming tape, so I opted for grey. UNR colors? Not quite, seeing that UNR is more of a navy blue, but it's close enough, and it's finished.

I have also been itching to scrapbook. After my Close To My Heart gathering on Saturday, I'm feeling pretty motivated. Hopefully I can bust out the serious equipment around the end of May. Maybe before then, but I don't think I'll get around to it.

As for today, so far, I have conquered three loads of laundry, helped Vada get ready for school and Broden ready for play, put the brisket in the oven, vacuumed up the clumps of Angel's shedding winter coat, put away the dishes, cleaned out the old leftovers in the refrigerator, called the bank for the second time this year about the "monthly service fee" that should be non-existant, hung the firsts of Vada's "V" collection, and now blogged.

I hope your day has been as successful as mine thus far.

Intentions

2011-04-01T21:28:00.000-07:00

I just wanted to let you all know that I had every intention of posting a new blog tonight, since I have been busy with Spring cleaning since my last post, but things change. People change. It's a fact of life.

With Kyle in Chicago, Kody canoodling in his bedroom with his girlfriend (who is really cute, in case you were wondering), Vada at a friends house until tomorrow afternoon, and Broden snoozing, I am going to take this opportunity to dim the lights and watch the first season of The Ghost Whisperer while snacking on some Goldfish.

Can you blame me? If so, then you aren't married with children.

You try throwing a grape! It's harder than it looks.

2011-03-21T14:51:00.000-07:00

Last week was my little cousins Spring Break. Okay, I say little, but she is FIFTEEN now. So weird. So, anyway, she decided she wanted to take a little vacation. To our part of the country. To visit her favorite cousin (sorry to burst your bubble Jordan, but the truth is the truth).

While there is nothing too exciting to do in our little town at the beginning of spring, which is a nice way of saying a sunshiny winter, I think we succeeded in entertaining ourselves.

We shopped.We laughed. We watched movies. We laughed a little more. We partook in some girl talk. We laughed until we cried. We baked cupcakes. We laughed until we peed our pants. No, I'm serious. Peed. In our pants. I have an excuse though, I birthed two children out of my vagina. I don't know what her excuse is.

Saturday came around so fast, and she was headed back home. That night, while brushing her teeth, Vada started crying. I thought she scratched her gum or something else painful. When I asked her what was wrong she said through her tears, "I just...miss Taylor."

Love you Taylor! And we're glad you made it home safely!

Introducing...

2011-03-07T10:55:00.000-08:00

MOLLY!

Molly is the most recent addition to our family.

I know what some of you are thinking: AGAIN!?!

Let me explain.

A few months back, when Kyle came home from his first trip to the Bahamas, he mentioned harboring the idea of adding a new member to the family. One of the feline sort. This was HUGE. Vada and I have been poking at him, sometimes even stabbing at him, for years now trying to convince him to let us get a cat. A feeble attempt to weaken his stipulation about cats in any home that he lives in. When he said that he was slightly possibly considering the idea of getting a cat I couldn't constrain my smile. He only requested that we avoid the topic all together until after the holidays.

Sure. Whatever you want.

Just over a week ago an urge to scan PetFinder.com came over me. I spent about twenty minutes that afternoon looking at different cats, trying to find a few to show Kyle later that evening. When later that evening came it was as if I had made up Kyle's whole I'm-thinking-about-thinking-of-getting-a-cat. I pleaded with him a little and something in his heart caved...barely.

And here are the regulations that Kyle put in place regarding the type of feline allowed into our home:

The shedding of the cat had to be minimal.
It had to have short fur.
It must be declawed.
It is not allowed on our furniture.
It is absolutely not EVER allowed to step a single paw into our bedroom.

Please keep in mind, as I had to, that the extent of Kyle's experience with having a pet growing up was a couple of guinea pigs that his mom took care of because her kids didn't want to. The things had either died or his mom found a new home for them a WEEK before any of the kids even noticed that they were missing. Oh, and they had a couple fish, but who forms a bond with a goldfish?

I explained to Kyle that trying to keep a cat off of the furniture, if that is what the cat so desires to do, would be tough. It would be nearly impossible to keep the cat out of our bedroom unless we kept the door closed ALL THE TIME, which we all know will never happen.

He was not budging. Those were the rules, and if we couldn't find a cat that could obey them then we would not be getting one.

Although a huge part of me was ready to accept that challenge, the sane part of me was not going to be dropping $25-$50 every week on a new cat because this one and that one couldn't comply to the house rules. So, needless to say, I gave up...on the cat. Let's look at dogs!

We scrolled through page after page of dogs in local shelters. We were about to call the search quits when we came across a hound dog. Her big sad eyes looking at us through the computer screen, begging for us to pick her up and bring her home. Neither one of us could resist.

The next day Broden, Angel, and I, along with someone else whose identity shall remain unknown, drove an hour and a half to the Fallon Animal Control Office to pick up Molly, f.k.a. Geri. When they brought her out to meet us she was shaking with fear, and her skin was wrapped so tightly around her that you could see just about every bone in her body.

I'll take her.

It took her a few days to get comfortable in our home, and I had to drench her food in bacon grease to get her to eat that first night. Her second day here I noticed that she was very snotty, and I don't mean her attitude. She was sneezing out mucus and making horrible noises very similar to those a teenage boy makes when trying to dislodge a loogie from his sinus cavity.

Mr. Vet said she had an upper respiratory infection that a weeks worth of amoxicillin should cure. If she stopped eating then call A.S.A.P.

She has one more day of medication left to finish and is still making that teenager-with-a-loogie sound and sneezing here and there, but nothing near as bad as it was a week ago, and her appetite is not lacking. She goes back to Mr. Vet tomorrow for her rabies vaccine if he declares her well enough.

Keeping my fingers crossed.

This Is Why HGTV Won't Be Giving Me My Own Show

2011-03-01T12:18:00.000-08:00

In an effort to make our home feel a bit more warm and cozy, we took on the task of painting the living room walls this weekend. And now I remember why I dread painting as much as I do.

Before I go into any detail, let me show you some "before" photos:

TV Nook

Living Room/Entryway

When we moved into our house just days after Broden was born, these walls were a pinkish tan. Not the worst color in the world, but I just wanted to start fresh. To me, fresh means white, and the absence of all colors that remind me of silly putty. So with the help of a few friends, and my parents, every wall in the house was given a couple coats of "Painter's White".

Some may think white is boring, but I like to think of it as safe, clean, crisp, and, yes, I'm going to use that word again, fresh. It added to that little hint of modern that I wanted our house to have. Unfortunately, it also makes our home feel rather cold.

After the purchase of our new rug for the living room (the jute beauty we purchased from West Elm has taken residence in our bedroom), which was purchased to keep the corner couch piece from sliding away from the rest of the couch when sat upon (FYI: when buying a sectional couch be sure that it comes with hardware to keep it connected), we decided that the tan in the rug needed to be reflected elsewhere in the room. I tried a few grass baskets, and the picture frames are matted with a tan background, but it just wasn't enough. That's when we made the commitment to paint the walls.

And why do I despise painting? It's messy. It's stinky. It's tedious. It's expensive.

One hundred forty-eight green one's later, we began the project so we could finish the project.

It started out simple enough. I actually started to change my opinion on the painting process. That's when a couple things happened to refresh my memory.

I decided not to tape off. I carefully cut in around the windows, ceiling, and baseboards with the paint brush in one hand, the container of paint in my other hand, and a wet rag within arms reach. That's how they do it on HGTV! That went swell. No complaints here. But then came the rolling, and this was Kyle's job. Well, Kyle does NOT watch HGTV. So Kyle was unaware that too much paint on the roller will cause for some major splatterage (and in his defense, the only other time he has painted before he didn't have to worry about getting any on the floors, because we had no flooring yet). With one wall down, I went to check it out...and I just about had a heart attack when I saw all of the specks of paint on my wood floors. Thank you God for not letting me cave on Kyle's request for carpet! Long story short, a good hour to an hour and a half was spent scrubbing dried paint off the floors and baseboards that still has my fingers hurting.
Kyle decided we could completely finish this project in one day IN ADDITION TO him taking on a computer issue for someone else AND attend a fundraising event at 6 p.m. If you know Kyle, I don't even have to explain. For those of you who don't, it's too tiring for me to even think about how to explain. 5:30 p.m. rolled around and we decided it was time to start getting ready for this fundraising shindig. I stuck my container of paint on a high shelf, out of reach of little fingers, and went to go plug in my straight-iron and pick out what I was going to wear. Kyle went to go take a shower. As Kyle is getting out of the shower, and I am trying to give my bangs a little fixin' while Broden is whacking the backs of my legs with one of his golf clubs, Vada pokes her head into our bedroom and says, "Wow, you guys have a lot of paint to clean up." I look at Kyle with an expression that asks, "What is she talking about?" As I step into the hallway Angel is trotting toward me, as happy as can be, leaving painted paw prints behind her with every step. And here's the breakdown: when Kyle left to go take a shower, he left the pan of paint just chillin' in the middle of the dining room floor like there was some forcefield around it that was going to keep dogs and children out of it. Angel, the one who is visually impaired, stepped into the pan of paint at some point within that ten minute span of us leaving the room and us returning. She proceeded to prance around half of the house like she was a little girl with her mommy's high heels on. I'm still finding faint paw prints here and there that we missed. Is it surprising that I made Kyle go to the fundraising event wifeless?

So, with my original opinion on painting still intact, here is the finished project:

TV Nook

Living Room/Entryway

For our next two painting projects, the kitchen and our bedroom/bathroom, I will be hiring a professional. That means you Kim.

Four Day Weekend

2011-02-18T09:00:00.000-08:00

Just when several Reno-ites thought that Spring was poking it's head around the corner, Winter laughed.

My 6 a.m. wake up call from the school district this morning confirmed what we assumed: Today, Friday, February 18th, is a SNOW DAY!

It's so nice of the school district to give the kids a day off to play in the white pillows of snow that cover the ground.

Bad Choices

2011-02-17T16:43:00.000-08:00

Wait, wait, wait...there is a good explanation for this. Seriously!

Today was "Opposite Sex Day" at Kody's school for Battle of the Sexes week. Seeing that school spirit is something that is passed down in the McClelland blood, he participates in all of these shenanigans, unlike me who gagged at any outward display of school spirit. As far as I can remember, the furthest I went towards showing any shred of school pride was when I was forced by the drama teacher to wear a green shirt with gold lettering on it advertising the school's production of The Paper Bag Bandit Rides Again and The Taming of LaRue. The worst part: she made us tuck them in! ONLY LOSERS TUCK IN THEIR SHIRTS!

No offense dad...or Kyle.

Quick note: Starting last night and continuing on until Friday evening we are the proud babysitters of Noah, a four year old Sheriff Woody-lover who reprimands me every time I say "butt".

Back to the main story. So, with today being what it was, what it is, what it will go down in history for being, last night I had the pleasure of assisting Kody in putting together the best ensemble we could come up with. Thank goodness I have a few elastic waisted skirts, and Kody's ribcage isn't an inch bigger than it currently is.

After getting the skirt and leggings on, it was bra and tank top time. As I was latching up the bra, and seriously contemplating snapping it against Kody's back, Noah walks into the bedroom. And here was the dialogue that took place:

Noah: What are you doing?!

Kody: I have to dress up as a girl tomorrow for school, so I'm trying on the outfit I'm going to wear.

Noah (with a look of disgust on his face): Well, I think you're making a bad choice.

After Noah threw in his two-cents he promptly turned around and walked away.

I hear he has organized an intervention for RuPaul next week. Can't wait to find out how that goes.

Those Turds

2011-02-17T14:50:00.000-08:00

Vada: This thing is so flimsy. I spent almost five dollars in tokens to win this!

Me: Ugh! That's highway robbery.

Vada: That's what I said!!

Silky

2011-02-14T11:28:00.000-08:00

I remember, years and years ago, one of my cousins warning me about buying silky blankies for my future children. She had bought one for her son, and when it came time to ween him of it, she would find him in her closet rubbing his cheek up against one of her silky dresses...at the age of sixteen.

No, not really, he was only four or five, but saying he was sixteen even made me want to drop my jaw...and I knew I was lying.

When Vada came along, I did not heed her advice. The results: a child who was just like me. She had a favorite whatever for a week and then moved on to a different favorite whatever. No mother-induced blankie separation anxiety here.

I did the same with Broden, only now, these silky blankies have heads attached in the center. Good thing babies don't know any better, or else these blanket's-for-bodies-animal-heads might be the cause of some sort of psychological disorder in those little tykes who own them.

Broden owns Bear Jew and Monkey Boo. Monkey Boo was purchased as a sort of back-up for when Bear Jew was being washed, or was left at my parents house by mistake. Little did we know that in less than two days with Monkey Boo he would need BOTH to go to sleep at night. He is doing better now. He understands that sometimes one or the other needs a night off. Time to gather himself and maybe throw back a drink or two.

Here is where my cousin's warning comes in:

This morning, as I was getting breakfast ready for the kiddos, Broden sat down on the kitchen floor and was beckoning me to "come here with no delay". I knelt down to see what it was he wanted from me (I can't wait for him to expand his vocabulary beyond "please, please" when he wants something). He reached up, grabbed the bow to my pajama pants and pulled it towards his face. He proceeded to rub his eyes and the tip of his nose with the satin drawstring to my pajama pants.

Mother-induced satin obsession accomplished.

Cruisin' Part II

2011-02-04T16:38:00.000-08:00

I have spent the past couple days contemplating what my favorite part of my very first cruise was. Let me tell you, it wasn't an easy decision. And since I am a fan of lists (I am my mother's daughter), I have decided to make a list, in no particular order, of all of the benefits I reaped on this cruise. Here we go:

1. I can FINALLY say that I have traveled to a different country.

After all of those years that I lived in Phoenix, Arizona and I hadn't even been to
Mexico!

2. Dipped my feet in the Atlantic Ocean.

   That's two notches on my ocean belt.

3. Laying out and tanning under the warm sun in JANUARY.

   Nothing beats laying out on the ship deck, or a dirty beach in Nassau, in your
   bathing suit thinking, "Ha ha! People back home are walking around in their winter
   coats at this very second."

4. The handful of useful information that I gained from the GIN conferences.

   I might have been able to gain even more useful information if I hadn't been in a
   complete panic from the guest speakers making me hug people I didn't know and
   utter phrases that make me sound like I have been successfully brain washed. I
   was literally in tears and had to walk out during one session.

5. The words: All inclusive.

   Which doesn't mean "all inclusive" at all. It means: except for the purchase of
   alcohol, soda, or any beverages other than water.

6. The joys of people watching.

   Man, the things people will do and say when they think no one is watching or
   listening.

7. Coming back to a clean and organized room every single time.

   Alright, so yes, it is rather creepy to know that you are being watched constantly
   by the ship crew member assigned to your room, but it's lovely to come back from
   lunch to see that he has folded your panties and placed them nice and neat at the
   foot of your bed. Wait...

8. Amazing sunsets.

9. Having the time to come this close to finishing my book.

As much as I don't want it to end, I have so many other books that I would love to

read before I die.

10. Having the ocean literally right outside our teensy bedroom porthole.

11. Trying foods I otherwise might have never bothered to try.

Mostly because I didn't have to spend my money on it. So, if I didn't like it, no

biggie. Just order another appetizer. This is how I found out I actually do enjoy

Escargot.

12. Getting all fancied up for something other than church.

And I didn't have to worry about embarrassing my mom with my attire. Which

you would think she would be used to by now, seeing as to how she was present
during my high school days.

13. Adding a few more locations to our "Where We've Done It" list.

I do believe this speaks for itself.

And the winner is...

TANNING IN JANUARY!

I know this wouldn't be your winner, but growing up in the Phoenix area has made me a baby when it comes to the cold. While I enjoy brisk weather, I do not get satisfaction out of freezing my tush off from early November to late March, sometimes as long as early May.

Here is the famous question: would I ever go on another cruise?

I would just have to say that it depends. My kids would have to be old enough to care for themselves for the most part, you know, seniors in college. The ship would have to dock once a day; maybe I could settle for every other day. Last of all, it would have to be going someplace where I wasn't asked 50 times in an hour if I wanted my hair braided, or if I wanted to ride some jet skis.

"I nom'ly sell dees fo twenny-fi dolla, bud I make you a deal. Fi dolla a piece. Watchu say?"

Cruisin' Part I

2011-02-01T13:49:00.000-08:00

For the past five days, Kyle and I have been on vacation. Three days were spent on A CRUISE TO NASSAU, and the other two days were spent getting to and from THE CRUISE TO NASSAU! Did I mention that we went on A CRUISE TO NASSAU?!

A CRUISE!

TO NASSAU!

If you are assuming that, due to what you have read so far in this post, this is my first cruise, then you assume correctly. If you are also assuming that I have never been to the Bahamas, then you assume correctly yet again. In fact, I have never even been out of this country.

I KNOW! All those years that I lived in the Phoenix area and I haven't even been to Mexico. I have lived a sheltered life.

Let me tell you though, this vacation was no piece of cake.

Less than 48 hours before our plane was to depart from the Reno/Tahoe Airport, we received a call from our friend, the one who was going to be watching our children while we were out of town, to tell us that we would need to find someone else to watch our children during the weekdays because they had a "situation". Talk about panic! Everyone we know, other than this particular friend, who we trust with our children, and who are children would feel comfortable with, work during on the weekdays. I tried my best to remain calm, but after hanging up the phone it was as if my heart had just taken Speed.

Thankfully my brother didn't have to work on the days we needed a sitter for the kids and offered to help us out. He had never watched the kids before without my parents around. You can see my concern, but with my sister there also, and Vada old enough to feed herself, and Broden if needed, I felt this was our best option. My mother would be there in the evenings and during the weekend to relieve him of his duties, and was merely a phone call away if something went wrong during Jordan's reign of power.

As we were getting ready to board the cruise ship, soon to longer have any means of communication with anyone in the States unless we wanted to pay $8 per minute, I received a message from said friend saying that she would be watching our kids over the weekend. Hmm. I let her know that my mother had already planned on watching our kids, but thanks anyway. I then sent my mother a message to inform her of the matter. That's when I received a message back saying that she had already worked it all out with said friend. Nothing like being left in the dark about what's going on with your children until just seconds before you are about to be out of contact with EVERYONE but your fellow shipmates for the next three days.

It was then that I decided that I probably should have just canceled my trip from the first sign of Vacation Distress. But what was I supposed to do at that point. I tried to put a smile on my face and do my best to forget that there were issues with the kids at all. If you're a parent, you know how impossible this is.

While we enjoyed attending conferences, eating amazing three-course dinners, meeting new people, and laying out by the pool under the warm sun, I was constantly worrying about my children. Wondering if they felt as if they were being juggled around.

This would have been ten times worse if I had known prior to Monday evening that, due to a miscommunication, my mother had to call out of work on Monday to be with our kids.

I have never been so happy to be back home with my children.

For the Birds

2011-01-26T23:42:00.000-08:00

Last week, after seeing several birds hunt around in our yard for a bite to eat, Vada and I decided we should "refill" our bird feeder.

This is always a messy task, but it's more than worth the smile Vada gets while making it, and while watching the birds enjoy her creation.

What I do is close my eyes real tight. Like this!

2011-01-25T15:56:00.000-08:00

Today marked Vada's first visit to the dentist in which laughing gas was involved.

To prep her for this moment, I subjected her to some chuckle-worthy YouTube videos on the subject. This only caused her disappointment when the procedure was over and all she felt was tenderness in her gums and a hunger in her stomach.

I offered to take her to IHOP to get some pancakes, forgetting that she hates pancakes. She just stood there in the parking lot giving me this annoyed glare from under her heavy eyelids. And though her mouth was packed with gauze, "McDonald's" could not be mistaken for any other word.

I gave it a try, but she had to settle with only a small order of fries, and I would make her a bowl of soup once we were home.

The rest of the day will be spent watching movies and "taking it easy". Right now we're watching Harry and the Henderson's. Deja vu.

Any allergies?

2011-01-19T14:39:00.000-08:00

Dental Hygienist: Is Vada allergic to anything?

Me: No, not that we know of.

Vada: UHUH!

Dental Hygienist: What is that?

Vada: Lawn mowers.

She's Baaa-aaack

2011-01-19T14:35:00.000-08:00

Vada came home on Saturday from her vacation to visit family in far away places.

While she loved her stay there, you can tell she is glad to be back. Although, if she had her way, we would all just move "there" instead of coming back "here". I can't blame her.

Broden was stuck to her like glue for the first couple of days, but today was the first time EVER I had to snap at them to stop hitting each other. Ah, good ol' brother-sister scuffling. I will be working diligently to nip that one ASAP.

Maybe part of Broden's frustration has to do with the fact that he no longer has his own room now that Vada is home. Let's just say I'm regretting not paying into that thought that I had while house-hunting: "maybe we should wait and see if we can find a four bedroom house..."

Live and learn.

Cork Board Makeover

2011-01-12T13:46:00.000-08:00

Last week, on a mission to find some affordable decorative accessories for the master bedroom, Broden and I took a trip to the TJ Maxx/Home Goods store in Reno.

I typically have no problem finding things to spend my money on in that store, and this trip was no different. Except for one thing that is. I am no longer bringing home a twelve hundred dollar paycheck every other week. AH!

We spent nearly an hour walking up and down the isles slowly, making sure we didn't overlook anything extremely awesome. With a self-set budget of forty dollars (yippy....blah) I would simply put anything that caught my fancy in the cart, then when I had covered the entire Home Goods section of the store I would reevaluate (the employees of TJ Maxx/Home Goods who were responsible for organizing the shelves that night were no doubt sending a few MF-bombs my way). And there is always on exception to the rule, so if I found something I couldn't live without, figuratively of course, I was able to go a little over budget. How over budget was yet to be determined.

I set down the fifteen dollar vase that I had picked up with full intensions of returning after I had matched the color with paint samples. The store is clear across town, I can't afford to drive back-and-forth just to match a stinkin' color. The sixty dollar bed quilt reclaimed its position on the shelf (yes, that's the only one I put back from I where I had retrieved it). The sixty dollar painting that I wasn't completely in love with was leaned against a table full of lamps. The smaller items were given a change of scenery on a shelf with kitchen gadgets. After a few minutes just standing there staring at the three items I had left in my cart, I decided I would buy all three (a cork board and two twin shelves) IF I could talk them down on the shelves. They were pretty banged up, so part of my forty dollar budget was going to have to go towards spray paint to touch them up.

At the register, the cashier beckoned the manager regarding the shelves. A ten percent price drop was the best he could do on the shelves. I wanted to roll my eyes the way Mr. Potato Head does in the Toy Story movies when he hears a load of crock. Whatever. Drop them down a dollar then, I'll take them.

BEFORE

The cork board I felt fully confident about. The bronze finish is absolutely NOT my style, but a little spray paint would fix that in a jiffy. The shelves I intended to hang from the wall above my desk as a place to set pictures of my little darlings, clearing some valuable desk space.

AFTER

Project Cork Board Makeover started the very next day. I was too lazy to sand it, but it shouldn't get enough action for the paint to scratch off since it's only for my personal use. If so, then I have half a can of spray paint left in the garage.

The shelves however are still sitting on the floor leaning up against the wall. Looks like I will be making a trip back to Home Goods after all. MY HAGGLING WASTED! For the quality they are and the condition they are in, I should have never bought them in the first place. Slap my wrists.

Sadly, as excited as I was to get my cork board hung, it is rather lonely. Other than the light switch and outlets, it's the ONLY thing on our bedroom walls. Talk about a romantic setting. Although, romantic setting or not, if Kyle whispered little design tidbits into my ear while we were "thumb wrestling" I would probably get WAY more into it.

Jute rugs.
Window panels.
Shades of blue.
INDUSTRIAL TASK LAMPS!

Cheek Kisses

2011-01-06T11:47:00.000-08:00

For the past month or so now I have been struck with a nightly sore throat. I can go all day feeling peachy, but then 5 o'clock hits and something in my throat says, "Alright fellas, you ready to do what the devil paid us to do? GO!"

It starts out as a "faint discomfort" and then escalates into "quite obvious discomfort", from the top of my throat all the way into my ears. Last night was the worst. I don't know if it's because I haven't been able to sleep all that well at night, but last night my back and neck were stiffer than...um...teehee...a lot of things. I also had that feeling that they both needed to be desperately popped, but I just couldn't do it. Kyle assisted in the popping of my back (he's a chiropractor on the side), but even after 50 cracks went up my spine I STILL felt like it needed to pop. And that, folks, is typically how I know I'm getting sick. Pthh!

What this is all leading up to, other than assisting your brain to click over into sleep mode, is Broden's goodnight kiss. Since I felt like poop, and didn't want to give Broden a goodnight kiss on the lips, I told him, "Give mommy a kiss on the cheek." He opened his mouth wide (his way of puckering up -- a dentist would be proud) and leaned forward to give me kisses. When I turned my face so he could kiss my cheek, he stopped and looked at me funny. He tried once more to land his kissy mouth on my lips, but I turned my head again. I tapped my cheek with my finger and said, "No buddy, right here."

That's when it clicked. So, he leaned forward and touched his cheek to my cheek. We thought it was the funniest thing. Then Kyle asked for kisses on the cheek too. Same thing. Cheek to cheek. It still makes me giggle.

I think I'm going to brainwash him into thinking that cheek-to-cheek is how everybody kisses. That should save me a lot of trouble...until junior high.

In All My Free Time

2011-01-03T11:05:00.000-08:00

When I quit my job back in May of last year, I walked out of there on my last day thinking:

"Man! I am going to get so much scrapbooking done. And I'm going to learn how to knit and crochet! There is going to be so much craftiness going on in my house, Kyle will think he died and landed in Martha Stewart Hell as punishment for not getting snipped like his wife told him to."

Sadly, this is not the case.

I believe that I have scrapbooked less than a handful of times since being a full time mom/housemaid. Forget about my hopes of learning how to crochet.

However, I did bust out my brand new sewing machine for the first time. Can I get a WHAT WHAT?!

Oh wait! Don't tell my mom that though. She bought the machine as my Xmas present TWO YEARS AGO. She might be a tad annoyed that it is just now seeing the light of day.

And what project did I work on you ask? What a great question! A stocking for a friend.

Now, I've made approximately ten stockings in my lifetime before this one. And when compared to the others, this one looks like Megan Fox standing next to ten Mimi's from the Drew Carey Show. This judgement may be a little harsh, but do know that I plan on remaking our family stockings this year. And this time, I'm leaving the hellish burlap on the shelf.

I'm also toying with the idea of making some extra's as well. Maybe sell them, or perhaps give them away as gifts this year. What do you think?

Goodbye 2010. Welcome 2011.

2011-01-01T14:30:00.000-08:00

Incase you haven't heard, IT'S A NEW YEAR!

The closest thing to an ugly sweater that
we could find for the little man.

We celebrated the coming of 2011 in style last night/this morning. We had a few cocktails. We danced until our feet were sore. We laughed until our voices were hoarse. We stayed out until 2 AM!

Well, not exactly. We went to a house party with no alcohol. Played board games. And I passed out with Broden from pure exhaustion around 10 PM in my parents bed. All of the excitement from winning third place in the Ugly Sweater Competition tuckered me out.

But 2011 still came, whether or not I was awake to greet it. So, here's to a new year! May it be good to all of us.

Honey! I'm Home!

2010-12-30T12:29:00.000-08:00

Have you missed me? Please say yes. I like to feel important from time to time. Come on. Just give me a little smile and nod your head politely.

Thank you!

In case you didn't know, our family decided to spend Xmas away this year. To save my mother from the worry of our house being broken into, I chose not to post anything until AFTER our little vacation. Your welcome mom.

Where did we decide to run away to? Disneyland!

I brought it up in passing just before Thanksgiving, thinking there was no way Kyle would go for it. Shows how well I know my husband. He couldn't wait to get our reservations made and park hopper tickets purchased. For a second, I thought he might have made an appointment to get Mickey tattooed on his right butt-cheek so he could show it off around Toontown.

Nothing says happiness
like a Disneyland churro

Broden's first churro EVER

I was just eager to get away. The "Xmas Spirit" has bypassed me for the past couple years, and I thought being in the "Happiest Place on Earth" might give the Spirit a little kick in the rear. No stressing about who is coming over when on Xmas day, or Xmas Eve. No having to cook a lavish meal for 20 people. No feeling obligated to go places I don't want to go just so we don't hurt anybodies feelings. And let me tell you, it was wonderful!

Xmas morning in a hotel room with a hot pink Xmas tree was interesting, but I wouldn't have changed a thing about it. Okay, maybe I would have changed the fact that I had to stuff stockings in the bathroom, but that's it. Xmas Spirit politely waited outside as I stuffed ski socks into Kody's stocking while sitting in the toilet.

Grandma even came along for the fun! We weren't quite sure if she was going to be able to make it, but things worked out splendidly. And I think she was the more anxious one about Disneyland. She was up at 5:30 every morning, and on one morning was purposely trying to be loud so the rest of us would get up and get going. Maybe she should get a Mickey tattoo...?

This was the first year that Vada was more interested in the thrilling rides than meeting the characters. We would see a character here or there and I would ask, "Do you want to go see ______ ?" "No." It made me feel so juvenile because in my mind I'm thinking, "Oh my gosh! There's Pluto. PLUTO!", as I'm fighting the urge to jump up and down with excitement.

Even Broden just gave the character's a stare down. He would see them walking by and would just glare. No excited pointing or trying to wriggle out of my arms. He wasn't scared of them either. He only cried with Mickey. His favorite was Pluto. As the kids were standing there waiting patiently for me to push that little silver button on my camera, Broden kept petting Pluto's snout. Good doggie!

Kody hasn't been to Disneyland since he was anywhere between six and eight years old (there is much debate about how old he actually was, so I'm leaving it open), so I was constantly watching him for his reaction to everything. Although, the fact that he was too young to really remember anything from his previous trip to Disneyland ruined the sentimental value of rides like Pirates of the Caribbean, or The Jungle Cruise. I KNOW! Two of the greatest rides in the park! It's a crime.

Sleeping Beauty's Castle

I was a little worried about it being super crowded while we were there, seeing that the week of and the week after Xmas is one of their busiest times of the year, but it really wasn't that bad. Xmas Day was the worst, but even then the lines weren't too long. Not that we would know anything about waiting lines since Kyle quickly caught on as to how to manipulate the system. Three words: Parent, Switch, Pass. That's all I'm allowed to say.

With this being such a huge success, I'm thinking of making Xmas-away-from-home an every-other-year tradition.

Xmas 2012: New York City.

A Lot to Cover

2010-12-14T13:57:00.000-08:00

I sincerely apologize for the delay in new posts. December truly is the most hectic month of the year. And with that last sentence I have figured out why I haven't had the "Xmas Spirit" for the past few years. It's hard to get that tingle deep within (you know, the one you would get as a child) when you have five or more Xmas parties to attend, in which you have to find babysitters for, Xmas shopping to get done, vacations to plan, bills to pay, cookies to bake, sick children to tend to, a sick self to tend to, monthly functions to attend, and, to top it all off, an 8 year olds birthday slumber party to host. I was almost out for the count on that last one.

For the sake of allowing you to understand why my brain no longer functions the way it used to, I will cover December's events thus far in chronological order.

This first event was technically not in December, but it was close enough. That event would be my birthday. That's right, as of two days before December graced us with it's presences, I was graced by the presence of the number 26. I am now officially closer to 30 than 20. The only thing that makes this depressing is the fact that I have yet to earn a mere Associates at a community college. This means, at the rate I'm going, I will be a 40 year old woman trying to earn my college degree in classes with 20 year old bimbos who won't be able to tell me who Jem and the Holograms are. See? Depressing.

So, to celebrating this depressing thought, my family and I went out to dinner and a movie. Mexican cuisine followed by a nice dose of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows, Part 1. A nice mellow evening that ended with driving home on black ice with this little beauty in the trunk:

Isn't she lovely?! I have yet to test drive her, but she still puts a smile on my face when I see her sitting on my desk, waiting patiently for me to load her with film. She was my birthday gift from my parents. Bethany bought me some much needed socks (all of my old ones are retiring one by one).

Kyle bought me this filing system. Now I can show those bills who's boss and finally get my desk back. Hallelujah!

The following weekend was designated Tree Hunting Weekend. Kyle and I have only cut down our own Xmas tree once before, and the results weren't anything a professional decorator would even look twice at. That would be why we picked out a tree from a nursery last year. This year however, we were told of a different place that had a much nicer selection of trees. I'm thinking, "Awesome! We can go cut down our own tree AND still have a nice full one." Well, wasn't I sadly mistaken. The trees Kyle and my dad finally found WERE much nicer than the tree we had a couple of years ago, but they were definitely not nursery worthy. Now, I understand the pride that comes to a man by being able to say, "I actually went out into the forest, cut that sucker down, and drug it all the way back to the truck," but I'm thinking that prideful feeling isn't really worth it.

Our tree has grown on me this year, but next year we're either buying from a nursery or cutting down a tree from a nearby tree farm.

That's not to say we didn't have fun though:

Due to the fact that Vada's birthday falls during Xmas vacation, and the majority of her friends are either out of town or have previous engagements, we usually have her birthday party mid-January. This year though, she said that she would rather have her party before her real birthday rather than after. As if I wasn't busy enough, I accepted this request. And to top it off, I had a brilliant idea: to keep it small, how about we do a sleepover and she can invite six little girls of her choice. In my defense, I let her choose six girls because of that one rule in the party etiquette section of the handbook (the one that is given to you when you become a parent) that reads: always invite at least three more children than you would have attend the party, because there will never be a time when all guests positively RSVP. Well, please take note: WHOEVER WROTE THAT HANDBOOK WAS WRONG!

There was only one girl whose parents hadn't RSVP'd, and that little girl was the first one to show up. By seven o'clock last Friday evening I had seven little girls running, screaming and yelling, up and down the hallway. By nine o'clock that night I thought to myself, "Would it be wrong if I just locked them all in the bathroom until nine o'clock tomorrow morning? I'll slide pancakes under the door for them in the morning." The amount of noise and drama that seven little girls can produce was beyond anything I could have imagined. I had never needed a cigarette so badly.

It was during dessert that my mother informed me that I had a slumber party for my eighth birthday also. Since we were in the middle of moving, it was held at my grandparents house. That was the same night my grandfather had one of his heart attacks. I'm thinking there is some sort of correlation there.

While all of the above is happening, the kids and I have been fighting The Cold from Hell, we have attended a handful of parties, we've decked out our home for Xmas, I have been trying desperately to complete my crafty Xmas projects, and Broden has learned how to climb:

He started out on the floor and climbed his way to my drink.

All that's left for this month is our family Xmas, our trip to Disneyland, two more Xmas parties, and whatever else God decides to throw at me for His enjoyment. He has His own sense of humor.

P.S. - I'm not illiterate. I know how to spell Christmas, but I refuse to use this time of year to celebrate Christ's birth. Therefore, I spell it: Xmas.

This Is Why Xmas Gifts Will Be Minimal This Year

2010-12-03T10:24:00.000-08:00

Out of all of the toys these kids have (I'm running out of places to put them), they choose to play with cardboard boxes.

Well, this should make it easy on my pocketbook for the month of January.

Gobble Gobble Day

2010-11-25T11:31:00.000-08:00

I'm here to wish you all a happy and pleasant Thanksgiving Day.

As always, I'm thankful everyday for my family, our health, Goldfish crackers, and socks.

But something new that I have to be thankful for since last Thanksgiving: the ability that I have to stay home with my amazing children. This is where I am extremely grateful to my husbands hard work, and his bosses generosity. Without the two of those things, I would still be plugging away at a job that brought me no satisfaction while my dad was at home raising my kids.

And of course, thank you to every last person that takes the time to read my blogs. I love keeping up with this, and all of the positive feedback I get lets me know that I'm not just typing to myself. Thank you.

Now, on to more serious matters: pumpkin pie. Don't forget the Cool Whip.

My Pumpkin Made a Pie

2010-11-24T20:30:00.000-08:00

With today being Thanksgiving Eve, that means a few things:

1. Tomorrow morning I get to sort through Black Friday Ads galore (this will only be my second year pulling the Crazy-Gal-Who-Wakes-Up-At-3-In-The-Morning-Just-To-Save-Some-Moolah routine).

2. I get to find a spot for all of the Thanksgiving art that Vada was sent home with today.

3. PIE MAKING

This will also be my second year responsible for bringing a pumpkin pie to Thanksgiving Dinner.

Now, never mind the fact that when I was asked last year if I just buy the pie from the store my reply was, "No! I make mine from scratch." In which the gentleman replied, "Oh, how many pumpkins do you end up using?" I sat there dumbfounded for a second and said, "Oh no, I mean out-of-the-can from scratch." That's right, the only way I have ever seen pumpkin pie made is from Libby's Easy Pumpkin Pie Mix. Just add eggs and milk.

This year, I decided to step it up a notch. No, I didn't gut any pumpkins. Maybe next year. This year I bought two cans of Farmers Market Organic Pumpkin Pie Mix. That's right, you have to add the spices YOURSELF.

When I asked Vada if she wanted to help me, she took over the show. I helped her with the measurements, stirring the first batch, and the whole oven part, but everything else she did all by herself. And as far as I can tell, they turned out great. We'll find out for sure when we take a bite out of them tomorrow.

One of the cutest pictures IN THE WORLD

A Charmer

2010-11-24T10:48:00.000-08:00

During a quick trip to the grocery store on Monday, I couldn't refuse Addyson's sweet request for a box of Lucky Charms cereal.

When we arrived home, she wanted a bowl of it...and NOW. I poured her a bowl, she ate, Broden wanted.

FYI: Broden wants a bit of anything that someone is eating. It's never guaranteed to reach his stomach, but he'll give it a try.

I poured Broden the tiniest bowl of Luck Charms, and it was all down hill from there. In two days he has gone from eating every little crumb in the bowl to merely picking out the marshmallows and giving the rest to Angel.

What have I done?!

Faithful Women of Sacramento (and other surrounding areas) UNITE! - Part 3

2010-11-15T22:40:00.000-08:00

My little three day vacation to Sacramento would be the first time Kyle has had the kids overnight all by himself. Are you feeling nervous? I'm sure he was too, and I definitely was.

Don't be mistaken, Kyle is a great dad. It's just that I do EVERYTHING. I change the poopy diapers. I give the baths. I dish out breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I read the bedtime stories. EVERYTHING.

I believe it was only about two months ago that Kyle woke me up, after telling me to stay in bed and sleep in, to ask me what Broden eats for breakfast. He has only been eating breakfast SINCE HE WAS BORN. Granted, for the first few months his breakfast came out of my boob, but those have been out of commission for some time now.

It wasn't much of a surprise when he told me Thursday morning to pack the kids extra clothes to take to my dads house because they would be spending the night with him. The reason for this was so the kids didn't have to be woken up at 5:30 AM, making the rest of Friday a living nightmare for my dad. But I also know that Kyle was dreading even the thought of having to wake up an hour earlier to get a couple of kiddos ready, knowing that Broden is one clingy monster in the mornings.

So, in all actuality, Kyle only had them one night and one day. My dad was the champ who took care of the rest.

Thanks dad!

Although, judging by the way the house looked when I walked in, he had our kids for an entire week...as well as all of the neighbor kids.

A slew of dirty clothes next to the front door. Trash ALL OVER the kitchen counters. The contents of my nightstand strewn across our bedroom. Clothes thrown all over the bed. My sewing tools all over the kitchen table. Unfolded blankets laying wherever they fell. A sink full of dirty dishes.

Now, I was expecting the sink to be full of dirty dishes, even though I made sure all dishes were clean before I left. But I was not prepared for the disaster I opened the door up to.

I could feel my blood pressure rising. I started picking things up here and there, but then I made myself quit. I NEVER let things get this out of control, and it's really not that hard to prevent. Come on boys, when you finish your fountain drink you simply open the cabinet and throw it away in the garbage can. I promise, it takes less than a minute.

When Kyle came home with the kids he could tell I was irritated. I guess I'm not as good at hiding my true emotions as I thought. Maybe this is why I only made it into one play in high school, and even that wasn't due to my talents in the audition. I snagged that role simply because the gal who originally scored the part quit, and I happened to be at the rehearsal in which she did so. But I'm not sure what irritated me more, the fact that I came home to Oscar the Grouches trash can, or the fact that it took Kyle, Kody and Vada only about 20 minutes to pick it all up.

Faithful Women of Sacramento (and other surrounding areas) UNITE! - Part 2

2010-11-15T11:17:00.000-08:00

Saturday was day two of the Women of Faith seminars in Sacramento. It started at 9 AM and lasted until 5 PM. We had three breaks totaling approximately two hours. Those breaks were very much needed. Sitting on hard seats for the equivalent of a typical work day can be hard on the bum.

My mom and Kristy kept holding their breath for Natalie Grant to come out on stage, but she never did. After each session they would flip open their little booklets to her page just to make sure they didn't misread anything and that she truly WAS supposed to be there.

Natalie Grant, you seriously disappointed two of your fans, and for that, you should be ashamed!

Between musical sessions that provoked many women in the crowd to be very animated with their love for singing about Jesus (at those times I remained seated and whipped out my Stephen King novel), there were "dramas" and a few guest speakers. Sheila Walsh and Luci Swindoll were very much worth listening to. I wasn't disappointed in any of their sessions. However, Kim Cash Tate and Karen James I could have done without. I was under the impression that they aren't as experienced of speakers as those that I favored, so I won't be too harsh on them. In their sessions, by the time they ended I found myself thinking, "Wait...so what was the point to that story?" If my mom and Kristy knew that Natalie Grant wasn't going to be performing, and if I knew my favorite speakers weren't going to be coming back up, we would have left a whole lot sooner than we did. My suggestion to Women of Faith: list on the schedule who will be speaking/performing during each session, so maybe we can get back to our families a little sooner.

You want to know what astounded me though. The amount of women at this RELIGIOUS seminar that were flat out catty and rude. Now, I can understand giving someone attitude if they were caught trying to snag your wallet out of your purse, but let me give you a "for instance" that happened in the row behind us.

For instance: two women in the row behind us were saving about five seats for their friends that hadn't arrived yet (by the way, this is on day one when it was open seating in the morning). This mother and daughter came along and went down the row right above these seats and then stepped over them and sat in those saved seats. One of the women saving the seats VERY politely said, "Oh, I'm sorry. We're saving those seats." To this, the daughter replies, in an attitude I'm guessing she picked up from the devil himself, "Well then why didn't you have them marked?" I commend the woman's response to this, because if I was her I would have opened my mouth to let the fire pour out. She very kindly says, "That's alright, we will just move up one row. I hope you enjoy the seminar." Talk about practicing Luke 6: 27-28.

I wasn't so kind when I found out that the two women in front of us grabbed two lunches each instead of just one. Okay, let me explain first. On both days, just before the lunch break, they would announce that if you chose not to eat the free boxed lunch, then the remaining lunches at the end of the day would be donated to an organization called Sacramento Loaves and Fishes, whose motto is: Feeding the Hungry, Sheltering the Homeless. How wonderful is that?! I thought it was absolutely wonderful. On the second day, when we came back to our seats to eat our lunch I noticed two boxed lunches sitting in the seats in front of us. I assumed those women went to the restroom, or to the concession stand to buy fountain drinks. So, as we are sitting there I realize I am not going to be eating my lunch because I have this weird thing about eating cold chicken. I just can't do it. I can choke down a chicken salad sandwich sometimes, but other than that, no way. I decided that I would just take my boxed lunch back and purchase a pretzel from the concession stand. When I get back to my seat after spending nearly $6 on a soft pretzel with cheese (the lady at the concession stand told me that was a pretty good deal...I think not) I see the women in front of me come back from...wait for it...getting a SECOND boxed lunch. That is TWO boxed lunches that could have helped feed some poor little kid who is now going to go to bed truly hungry. AND, they tried hiding the fact that they had two boxed lunches each, so they KNEW that what they were doing was wrong. They stacked them on top of each other, pushed them all the way to the back of the underside of their seats (making it easier for me to see), and stuck their plastic Women of Faith bags on top of them until they were ready to scarf them down. I did not pass up the opportunity to lean forward, as if I was getting something out of my purse, and loudly proclaim how great it is that all of the left over lunches are donated to an organization that allows very hungry people the opportunity to have a full stomach.

It crossed my mind that maybe these two women aren't as blessed as I am to have the opportunity to eat three meals a day, but I find that hard to believe when they are dressed nicely and are holding tickets to this seminar that cost $99 each.

Moving on, after the seminar was over we went to Roseville to stop by West Elm so I could pick up a couple of nightstands for mine and Kyle's bedroom. These ones just aren't cutting it anymore:

I was saddened when I found out that the ones I wanted are only available through online orders. But you know what, that's okay. Just the fact that I was finally given the privilege to step foot in that store and gawk at the displays was forgiveness enough for making me have to pay shipping.

Please join me again this evening for the third and final part of this weekend's story. It features what happens when your husband is put in charge of the children for three days, and what you as the mother gets to come home to. Those of you women who are married with children and have chosen to indulge in your own mini vacation at one time or another, you know exactly what I'm talking about.

Faithful Women of Sacramento (and other surrounding areas) UNITE! - Part 1

2010-11-12T23:26:00.000-08:00

Mom and Kristy

Yesterday morning my mother, Kristy (one of my mother's close friends) and I made our way to Sacramento, where we will be until tomorrow evening. That's three days and two nights of female bonding. Don't get too jealous. Approximately half of this trip's conversations have consisted of the technical jargon of court systems and other related matters between my mother and Kristy, while I am in the backseat submerged in the world's of Roland of Gilead and his ka-tet. Who am I kidding? I love the amount of reading I am getting done!

Reading aside, the purpose of this trip is to attend the Women of Faith seminar that is being held at the Arco Arena. Well, that was the purpose of today and tomorrow. Thursday's purpose was to shop...DUH!

On our way to the hotel yesterday morning, we made the mandatory stop at Ikea. A couple hours later, Kyle was very proud of me for only spending $28. My typical trip to Ikea is never below $100, so this is an accomplishment. Ask my sister-in-law. When I bought our bed frame from West Elm her first response to Kyle, via text message, was, "WHAT?! Something NOT from Ikea?!" After my less-than-$100 Ikea purchase of two bath sheets and a package of Xmas ornaments, we headed over to the Arden Fair Mall. As we pulled into the parking lot I noticed UO. UO! My eyes weld up with tears of joy. Similar to the way the old ladies at church get all teary-eyed when a 12 year old decides to commit their life to God before they even realize how babies are made. I tried to play it cool and pretend like it was no big deal if my mom and Kristy didn't feel like browsing the amazingness of UO, but after walking by the store twice and catching only side glimpses of hip sweaters on headless manikins I caved. I casually asked if they would mind ducking in there quickly "just to see if they have any cute hats". Nearly an hour later I was ready to make my purchase, and the gals were standing quietly against a wall display cursing my weakness. We ended the evening with dinner and a movie.

Today was day one of the Women of Faith seminar. This is my first time ever attending anything like this, and I must say, I'm pleasantly surprised so far. I could do without the Christian rock concert sessions, but the speakers are outstanding. Now, if you know me, I don't buy into cheesy. Once someone starts laying on the cheese, it's an automatic turn off switch. Even with Kyle's attempts to be mushy-gushy romantic. The moment he starts singing romantic ballads to me while washing the dishes I can feel the stomach acid climb into my throat. I get a very similar reaction with christian music, and occasionally with the way some people express their love for God. This is also why I have difficulty at times receiving joy out of interacting with "church people". Most of the conversations are superficial, and I walk away thinking, "that was the biggest waste of my time".

My favorite speaker as of tonight would have to be Marcus Buckingham. His british accent makes listening to him speak simply irresistible, and he doesn't lay on the cheese. Every so often he will utter a sentence that I have to ignore even came out of his mouth, but overall, he has so much great information to share.

I'm curious to see what tomorrow has to offer. I'm praying all of the singers get strep throat...wait...is that Christian-like? Who cares?

Another Fall Photo Shoot

2010-11-10T16:12:00.000-08:00

No longer able to harness her need to jump in a pile of leaves, Vada put me to work raking the thousands of leaves in our backyard. I have to say, the way these photos turned out, I'm glad she made me.

Halloween 2010

2010-11-05T10:08:00.000-07:00

This year, it seemed to take FOREVER for Halloween to get here. Then, once it was here, it felt like it was gone in the blink of an eye, which didn't disappoint me as much as it possibly should have.

Our house is pretty pathetic when it comes to Halloween decorations. We carve a few pumpkins, hang up the $2 disposable spiderweb from Walgreens and call it good. Vada is utterly disappointed every year. For her, I tried to spice it up a bit this year. I bought the glitter words "EEK!" and "BEWARE" to prop on top of a few doorways, and a fake rat. Here's the catch: the words were $2.00 each at Target, and the rat was 50% off at World Market. I was going to buy a few other things, but I just can't bring myself to pay full price for most of this stuff when it's sitting in the attic for 51 weeks out of the year. For $20, Walgreens had an animated light-up spider that I wanted. Hello?! The thing is slightly bigger than a basketball, I'm not paying $20 for that!

Come Halloween night, our pitifully decorated house sat alone while Kyle was in the Bahamas getting a tan, Kody was at a friends house, and I was trick-or-treating with the kids and friends. And as we went from door to door collecting candy that's going to go uneaten on top of our refrigerator, I was admiring everyone's take on how to decorate for Halloween. I went home that night with some pretty cool ideas.

Except, here's the problem: while retail stores don't start packing up Xmas decorations until the new year has rolled around, they can't wait to get Halloween decor out of their store. We waited two days for fake skulls and animated spiders to go on sale, and by the time we arrived, sales associates were already packing the stuff up and setting up plastic Xmas trees! IT'S NOT EVEN CLOSE TO THANKSGIVING YET!?!

So, in my efforts to save money, I only gained one extra rat, a light-up, one-eyed lawn ghost, a cat made out of tinsel, and some jack-o-lantern party plates and napkins. If it were up to Vada, we would have gooey bloody hand prints that stick to the window in our inventory also, but I refuse to buy gross stuff. Just looking at them, and the bag of fake blood candy, made me want to start gagging. I definitely could not be in the medical profession.

Costumes you ask? Broden went as a lion since he roars all of the time. Vada went as "Spiderella" (? - that's what the package said). Kody stole Kyle's costume from the church Halloween Scavenger Hunt, a Lego, and I slapped on some black pants, a white shirt, and my old Starbucks apron and went as a Barista. Kyle's wins for imagination and effort. Eh, next year we'll do better. Even though I say that every year.

They All Fall Down

2010-11-04T11:08:00.000-07:00

Our neighbors have a gorgeous tree in their backyard that has stretched it's limbs into ours. In the summer time it's so full of green leaves that when the breeze picks up all you hear is their clapping. It's a beautiful sound to listen to when we lay out in the backyard at night looking at the stars.

But the best part about their tree is when Fall comes around. The leaves turn the this magnificent red, making the tree look as if it's on fire. Then, they tumble to the ground. The back, right side of our yard is COVERED in them, and that means two things: (1) they are irresistible to play in, and (2) they make it very difficult to find all of the dog poop.

A few days ago, after a thorough poop hunt, I took Broden and Angel outside to play. I snapped some pictures and they turned out to be some of my favorites by far. I was pretty disappointed that Vada was in school, because when I tried getting more pictures with her in them later, Broden would not cooperate.

Pictureless Post

2010-11-01T23:32:00.000-07:00

Since Blogger isn't wanting to upload my photos today, my Fall and Halloween posts will have to wait till tomorrow, or whenever it's done giving me an attitude. If it's taking pointers from Vada, it could be a while.

In other news, the last six days have been interesting. As many of you know, Kyle has been in the Bahamas with his work family since last Tuesday. Apparently they are attending some conferences that are put together by The Global Information Network and he is gaining all sorts of knowledge, wisdom, and...INFORMATION. Frankly, who really cares? He's in the Bahamas and I'm NOT!

Na, it's really not that bad. Actually, other than my fingers and toes being as cold as frozen mozzarella sticks (first thing that came to my mind that was long and cold, but wasn't the overused "icicle"), I feel like I am on vacation also. Yes, some people, including my husband, just read that last sentence and think I am the most horrid wife on the face of the planet, but it's true.

The television hasn't come on once in the evenings since he has been gone, except to watch a movie or two. This isn't counting Kody's television, because after all, he is a McClelland and it's in their blood to have the tube on every chance they get. Watching it or not.

With me being the only one that is home for dinner that will eat something other than Mac N' Cheese or chicken nuggets, I don't have to worry about cooking a real meal. I just throw some chicken noodle soup on for Vada, feed Broden his baby food with a few green beans on the side, and I get to eat leftovers from last week. Quick, easy, awesome. Without complaining, Kody eats leftovers too if he's not hanging out with friends. The dishes have been a breeze.

Vada has been able to fill Kyle's void in my bed, with Broden squeezing in between us anywhere between 2:00-4:00am. Kody took his role as TMH (Temporary Man of the House) very seriously, which is appreciated. He has been willing to drop everything to help me out, but unfortunately I am one who DREADS asking for help...and I just want him to be a 17 year old kid.

The two things I dislike the most about Kyle being gone:

1) The house seems to make more noises. Either our house is afraid of Kyle or he's just so noisy that I never hear our house's creeks and moans. Hmm, that's a tough one...?

2) Answering questions like: "So, is Kyle having fun in the Bahamas?", "How are you doing without Kyle around?", and "Tell me again, why is Kyle in the Bahamas without you?". The majority of these questions came yesterday, church day. I wanted to type up a newsletter answering all of the above questions in addition to my meal schedule (which reads in big bold Sharpie ink: LEFTOVERS) and give to every person who was about to open their mouth to speak to me. I understand that people were just trying to be friendly and all that mish-mosh, but it's truly exhausting repeating yourself over and over. Parents, you think it's aggravating repeating yourself to your kids two or three times a day. Try repeating yourself 20 times in less than an hour...to adults.

Kyle informs me that he is coming home a changed man. I hope this doesn't mean he'll be watching Jersey Shore instead of Grey's Anatomy.

P.S. - Becky, thanks for the chicken chili Sunday night. It's deliciousness put my menu of "leftovers" to shame.

I Swear I Didn't Put Her Up to This

2010-10-28T10:28:00.000-07:00

At the pumpkin patch on her field trip

Yesterday, while explaining Vada's homework to her:

Me: So, you have to see if the words on the monster's teeth mean the same thing as any of the words in the columns below.

Vada: Okay. "Male" is on this tooth.

Me: Good. Now see if anything in the columns match the meaning of the word "male".

Vada: Um, "intelligent". No, males are definitely not intelligent.

Me (trying very hard to stifle my laughter through the smile that stretched across my face): No babe, that says "understand".

Vada: Oh.

Halloween Costume #1

2010-10-25T23:19:00.000-07:00

Alright, if you're a parent you know that you only have a few short years of being able to pick out your child's Halloween costumes. I had been contemplating what to have Broden dress up as for weeks. Then, while walking through the store one day I came across this little outfit. Automatically, my mind went straight to Donnie Darko. Perfect!

Then a couple days later he started roaring every time he saw a lion. Kyle mentioned how we needed to dress him as a lion instead, but I refused. I ONLY HAVE A FEW SHORT YEARS! But then I was browsing HauteLook and saw an adorable lion costume for only $18.00. I couldn't stop myself from pulling out my credit card. It seriously is a reflex.

A New Love-Hate Relationship Blossoms

2010-10-21T10:50:00.000-07:00

Woo-wee. Things have been in a small state of frenzy here in the McClelland household. So, I apologize for my slacking in the blog department.

First off, let me start by saying (drum roll please).......wait for it.......Smalls has found a new home. A home where he will be loved, allowed indoors, and given so much attention he may just have a mini doggie heart attack. We've been trying to find him a new home for a couple months now. Yes, because his barking was getting out of hand and he had just a tad too much energy for us, but we realize this is our fault here, not Smalls. We just didn't have the time to spend with him. And had we time to set aside for him, his barking and other nuisances would have quickly dissipated. Back to what I was saying, we have been trying to find him a new home for the past couple months. We posted him on Craigslist.com, posted him on Hoobly.com, told people at church, told coworkers who happen to have relatives that work at an animal shelter. Nothing. Then, finally, after last weekends garage sale I hopped onto Craigslist.com just to see if anyone had posted a wanted add for a dog. And there it was: Wanted - lab younger than 2 years old. I thought I was going to pee my pants. Okay, I did pee my pants a little. A few emails back and forth and we had a meeting set up for them to come check him out the very next day. They came, they saw, they loved, they took.

I know you can't tell every book by it's cover, but this family seemed great. She was the type of person who lets the dogs sleep in bed with her. He wanted to take him hunting with him and his boys. It was perfect. Their happy. He's happy. So, I'm happy.

Due to this change in the canine sector of the McClelland household, Angel has now been promoted to Inside Dog. If it weren't for the few times she has happily gone bolting outside with full expectations of being chased, I wouldn't even think that she missed Smalls. She naps when Broden naps, gets scratched behind her ears and under her chin multiple times a day, gets to eat all the food Broden throws on the floor at meal times, and gets to sleep curled up on the floor on my side of the bed. She is in doggie heaven!

Well, except for the fact that when Broden is awake she has to put up with his love smacks and getting her fur pulled. Oh, and the occasional bear hug. She is so good with him though. Only once has she not been able to tolerate it, and in that instance she simple jumped up and ran out of the room. Broden cried because he couldn't understand how this furry creature couldn't possibly want his love and attention, but he was quickly over it and equally happy playing with a cardboard toilet paper roll.

And what has become of the love-hate relationship that Smalls and Angel had? It has transferred over to Angel and Broden. It's actually not so much with Angel, only with Broden. If I sit on the floor and begin petting Angel then the game has begun. Broden will stop whatever he is doing, run to me as fast as his little legs will take him, push Angel out of the way and plop down on my lap. If she doesn't quickly realize that he has won this game that only he is playing, then Broden proceeds to give her angry eyes, shout his gibberish and point his finger at her. But don't feel too bad for her. Remember, he makes up for it by throwing his dinner on the floor for her.

What did I tell you? Love-hate at it's finest.

Oh, and second off (and third, and fourth, etc): we're in the process of putting together a Kid's Club event through our church for the month of October, planning a trip to Disneyland, teaching Broden to only throw balls and not whack people (or pets) with his golf clubs, decorating for fall/Halloween, carving pumpkins, attending birthday parties, preparing for Kyle's trip to the Bahamas and my trip to Sacramento, doing laundry, washing dishes, making dinner, helping with homework, bathing kids, bathing ourselves, changing diapers, fixing oddball things around the house and in the yard, maintaining sanity, playing dirty secretary for my husband by completing price quotes while applying stain remover to the baby food splotch on my shirt, and somewhere in there trying to read at least five pages out of my book.

I still have yet to find time to apply my make-up today.

Two For One

2010-10-12T13:42:00.000-07:00

First, I want to say how much I love being a stay-at-home mom. If I were still working, I would have missed out on cute things such as the following two blurbs.

Blurb #1:

Yesterday, after Broden's morning nap, we took a little trip to Costco and the library. While I was getting ready, Broden had been playing with my phone. When it came time to leave, he still had my phone cradled in his little hands. So, since I don't get many phone calls, I just let him play with it while I drove. About half way to the store, my phones let's out it's I-have-a-text-message-for-you-to-read chime. I wasn't too worried about reading it right away, seeing that we would be to Costco in just a few minutes, but then something caught my eye in the rear view mirror. Broden, whose car seat still faces backwards, was holding my phone up for me to grab. I grabbed it, read the message, and called Kyle to tell him how cute it was. As soon as I hung up with Kyle, Broden's little hand goes up again, as if to say, "Okay, you're done. Give it back."

Blurb #2:

I would like to begin this blurb by stating that Broden has recently began a sort of fascination with throwing things in the garbage. So, this morning, at a time of which I wish I was still sleeping, I was wrapping up Broden's urine-filled diaper. He grabbed onto it as fast as he possibly could. He wiggled off of the bed and went marching into the bathroom. I watched him throw the diaper into the garbage can and then went back to bed, thinking he would be following right behind me. When he didn't come poking his head around the corner, I began calling his name a couple times. Kyle says, "Wouldn't it be funny if he was peeing in there right now?" I smiled and said yes, then stood up to go check on him. When I walked into the bathroom, there was Broden. Standing there with both hands flat on the lid to the toilet peeing on the ground. As his pee was gathering at the base of the toilet I'm thinking: and thus begins my never ending chore of wiping his pee up from off the floor.

When In Doubt...

2010-10-09T21:32:00.000-07:00

look under the refrigerator.

Broden was trying desperately to get at something that was under the frig. So, I grabbed the flyswatter (hey, it's the only thing I could find that would work okay!) and drug out all that I could.

So, this is where those markers have been for the past few weeks.

From now on, when things go missing, this is the first place I'm checking. That, and under the bed, under the couch, under the................

What really gets me is the fact that, as soon as I put the magnets back in the basket, after washing them in antibacterial soap, he wastes no time in pushing them right back under the frig.

Oy vey.

I Like My Boots to Be Real Orange

2010-10-07T10:19:00.000-07:00

A couple weeks ago, I was browsing HauteLook just to see what was new for the day when I came across these beauties:

DAV Big Lotus Sport Rain Boots

Orange...lotus...rain boots...TWENTY DOLLARS! I couldn't resist.

Gimme gimme gimme!

When this storm hit I was cursing every day that went by and the UPS guy hadn't delivered them. It's perfect weather for breaking them in. Now I get them and I only have one day left of this grey weather before the sun shows his face again. I'm really hoping that 30% chance of precipitation comes around for me today.

If not, I'm wearing them anyway.

And did I mention that they are SUPER comfortable?! No?

Well, guess what...they are SUPER comfortable!

Rain, Rain, Please Don't Go Away

2010-10-05T10:22:00.000-07:00

It has been heaven here for the past three days. Well, at least when it comes to the weather. Dealing with teenage boys is another story.

There has been a blanket of dark grey clouds hovering over us, bringing with them rain, thunder, and lightening. It's absolutely amazing. As we speak (or would it be as I type?), I am listening to the gentle pitter-patter of rain drops hit the back patio and wearing my knee-high socks and a comfy, cozy sweatshirt. Yes, I am wearing more than that, but those are the only two things that I am wearing that are due to the brisk weather.

I may be super lame for saying this, but it's almost magical. Okay, I AM lame for saying that. BUT IT'S TRUE!

This weather may make some people sleepy, or even depressed, but not me. For me, it puts a sort of calm inside me that isn't possible in any other way. It's prefect book reading weather, which is exactly what I want to be doing right now, but that's going to have to wait till I wash our bed sheets, fold Broden's clothes, put away the dishes, put Vada's suitcase back in the attic, wrap some birthday gifts, and whatever else comes to my mind that needs to get done around here.

This morning Vada and I rode our bikes to her school (Broden was kickin' it in his trailer) and it was such a beautiful ride. My face was frozen and I could barely feel my fingers by the time Broden and I made it back home, but beautiful none-the-less.

Vada was tickled to use her bike lock for the very first time. The look on her face said that she felt grown-up, and fully capable of beheading Medusa, or any other enemies that dare to cross her path. It is that same look and attitude that sometimes tricks me into thinking that she is older than she really is.

Black and Blue

2010-10-02T14:29:00.000-07:00

Try to look past the white pasty legs for a moment. This is the result of biking accident #2.

A couple nights ago Kyle and I decided that we were going to take Smalls on a bike ride to wear him out a little. Kyle would ride along with Smalls running beside him. I would pull Broden in the bike trailer. Then Kody decided that he wanted to come along too.

The problem: he doesn't have a bike.

The solution: he decided he would ride Vada's bike.

Yes, he very much resembled a clown riding a tiny bicycle at the circus.

A little over half way to my parents house, which is approximately a half a mile from our garage door, the chain fell off of her bike. Right as we were cutting through a poorly lit area. Kyle was so far ahead of us that he didn't even realize we stopped. Kody decided that, since he is a macho man, he should ride my bike while I get on Vada's and hang on to his handle bars, allowing him to pull me to my parents house. This took a couple attempts, but we got it. And not long after, he decided it was just too tough to steer straight ahead when he's pulling 120 pounds on the left side of his handle bars. So, I had a brilliant idea: I would let go and grab the back of his seat and let him pull me that way.

Keep in mind that if I just scooted Vada's bike to my parents house, we probably would have been there by this time.

So, I let go and went to grab onto his seat. Well, this threw off his balance and he jerked the front wheel to save himself. This caused Vada's front tire to hit his bike and send me to the ground. I caught myself, first with my left knee and then my hands quickly following.

Kody was wigging out (as was Broden), asking me over and over if I was okay. Even though it felt like my knee was oozing blood, I just told him yes, because I didn't feel like talking at that very moment. When we arrived at my parents abode, I rolled up my pants to check out the damage. No blood, but I had some nasty bruises, as you can see. They are pretty tender too.

I'm going to wear a skirt to church tomorrow so everyone can ask me how it happened, and I can reply, "Kyle just got a little out of hand when reprimanding me for the tone I had the other night. But that's okay, I probably deserved most of it."

Addy's Green Thumb

2010-10-01T21:04:00.000-07:00

Planting the tulip bulb's. She is so darling, I could nibble her nose.

Cousinly Love

2010-10-01T16:39:00.000-07:00

Wednesday and Thursday I was given the opportunity to babysit my beautiful little niece, Addy. How anyone could refuse such an offer is beyond me. She is so stinkin' cute! Though, I may be a tad bias...?

The babysitting stint began late Wednesday morning. We went to Costco to buy some milk and taste the samples, went by Kyle's work to drop off a change of clothes so he could help work on one of the trucks (scary thought being that he is not mechanically adept), and played, played, played. That evening, after church, and after not seeing her mom since early that morning, Addy did NOT want to come home with me. She was in hysterics. That ended about five minutes after we pulled out of the parking lot. She was OUT. I mean, hardcore out. She didn't wake up until I started putting her pajama's on.

The next morning Addy didn't wake up until 8:30. 8:30! I wish she could teach my kids how to sleep until 8:30. Without keeping them up until midnight that is.

Broden's nap time rolled around (cue Angel's barking). I laid him down in bed, but the quiet from his room lasted approximately 2 minutes before he started crying because he could hear Addy playing. This was a foreshadowing to later that afternoon.

I had promised Addy that I would take her to the park. Since Broden can't go without at least one nap a day, I persuaded my dad to let him nap over there (which wasn't hard to do) while I took Addy to park it up. After dropping him off with Tata, Addy and I cruised on over to the Lazy 5 park, which happened to be the hot spot for stay-at-home-mothers that Thursday afternoon. There had to have been close to 12 mother's there with their children and enough Popsicles to ensure that the children did not have a lack of energy and would have a successful sugar-crash by the time they arrived back at home. And I was the only adult playing on the playground, so you know what this made me. Come on...you can guess. The walking trash can. Random kids were approaching me with their Popsicle sticks high above their heads, "Here, I'm done." Cool, let me just get that for you then.

Then,there was this so-annoying-I-could-barely-keep-my-comments-to-myself "mother". This gal had to be about my age, and was the first one of the gaggle to really catch my attention. She spoke louder than all of them, which made it nearly impossible for me not to hear her say, "He is so cute. He loves the slide. Every time we take him to the park he pushes through all of the kids just to go down it." Oh, how sweet, you condone your child to crap on anyone who gets in his way.

Oh no. She wasn't talking about flesh from her loins. She was talking about her bratty-arse dog. A little terrier that was about to explode with excitement from the mere idea of jumping two and a half feet into the air to lick the stickiness off each child's face. So, since she wasn't trying very hard to hide her dimwittedness, it was no surprise that she was idiotic enough to let the thing off of it's leash. Hello! Your dog is nipping at the heels of every child that walks by it! What would make you think that letting him run around unleashed at a playground with 16 kids would be a good idea?! And the thing did exactly as she said, pushed kids over just to get to the slide. The slide that a little girl that couldn't have been any older than two, we will call her Bathing Suit Girl, was currently sliding down. They both popped out of the bottom at about the same time. And as she was walking away, that stupid mutt kept nipping at her bottom. This is terrifying for a child. Bathing Suit Girl was screaming so hard I thought her eyes were going to pop out of her head as she ran around the playground waiting for someone to rescue her. By the time her mom picked her up, the dog had gone leaping into the brush just behind the park. Dimwit running close behind trying to catch him. She was still yelling for him when we left, which triggered the corners of my mouth to rise slightly.

Sheesh, that was a long side story. Sorry.

So, we left the park, went and bought a snack at 7-Eleven, went to a different park with no human or canine forms present, grabbed a few things at the store that we needed for dinner, and headed back home. After planting some red tulip bulbs that Kyle's aunt and uncle had bought us, she watched the baby-doll movie (Coraline) while I washed dishes. My dad called around three o'clock to say that Broden was awake, so we could pick him up whenever.

The moment we walked in the door, Broden shifted into mommy-is-here mode. Which ultimately translates to: Let the competition between Broden and Addy begin. If I held one, the other one wanted to be held also. They both wanted exactly what the other one had. If Addy was on the couch, Broden wanted up too. Anything that Addy had touched that day was off limits to Broden, even if there was no intention of playing with it again. If Addy had a drink, Broden wanted it. Not a drink, but HER drink. I couldn't have been more excited to see another grown-up walk through the front door at the end of the day.

Lessons I have learned from all of this:
1. I could not operate an at-home daycare.
2. Broden misses Vada because she gives in to his cuteness.
3. If Popsicles are present at a park, turn around and walk away.
4. Sharing is vital to maintain peace in a multi-children environment.
5. If your first impression of a person is, "idiot", you're probably right.
6. Kyle is getting snipped as soon as the time is up on my IUD.

SILENCE!

2010-09-29T10:56:00.000-07:00

As many of you know, we are not our neighbors definition of 'the perfect neighbors'. We don't throw late night parties, we take care of our lawn, we don't blast our stereo...ever. However, we do have two dogs that take their role as 'Protectors of the McClelland Family' very seriously.

Intruders beware (whether you be a man, a bird, a spider, or a dandelion seed), if you come within a quarter mile of our home you will get an ear load. And if you so dare to step foot on this property, Lord be with you. No, our dogs would never attack anybody, but they would definitely obtain great joy out of causing you to become deaf.

Honestly, Smalls really wasn't that bad in that department. He only barked when he was either hungry, or someone truly was posing a threat. Notice how I write all of that in past tense. That's because this morning, we sold him.

No, not really. I'm quite positive Vada would murder me in my sleep if we sold Smalls while she was away. I write it in past tense because for the past week or so, once Kyle leaves for work in the morning, Smalls barks...and barks...and barks. Even though I repeatedly yell at him, shoot him with the air soft gun, and whack him with a rolled up and duct-taped JCPenny catalog he still continues with his little barking fit for at least the next three hours. What he is barking about, I haven't a clue.

Oh, and by the way, in addition to the tactics listed above, we have also tried the shock collar. That was a joke. Even though it appropriately zapped him when he barked, it failed to detect his high pitched yelps. And quite frankly, I'd rather listen to him bark than have my eardrums explode. But that's just me.

Alright, getting to the point, I caved yesterday and dished out a whopping $107.00 on a citronella collar. That's right, one hundred seven dollars! CHA-CHING! I wanted to vomit as I swiped my credit card (and this reaction, which I experience quite frequently, is why I am the Return Queen). This is my last attempt. If it doesn't work, we may have to find him a new home and keep Angel inside.

Speaking of which, we tried keeping them both inside a couple weeks ago. We gave them both really good baths one evening, which took about an hour and a half (ugh), and had a fairly decent night once Smalls was crated for bed (I don't even want to talk about the frustration he caused between bath time and bed time). The next morning, when we let them out to go potty, the first thing they ran for was the one mud spot in our entire back yard. Seriously?! I wanted to stab myself in the foot. Oh, and not only did they run through the mud, but they then proceeded to jump on each others backs. Fan-freakin'-tastic! So that was how that dream bubble was popped.

Back to the collar. I strapped that sucker on this morning and it was instant barking relief. The thing sprayed him in the chin once for barking, a couple times for whining, and every time he tried to shake the thing off. He's been walking around with his ears plastered to his skull ever since. Man, this thing is right up there with George Clooney on my list of greatest creations.

Since Smalls seems to cease his barking in the early afternoon, that is when I will transfer the collar to Angel. Because we all know she is the root of the barking problem, but she tends to be quiet until it's Broden's nap time. It's as if within the past week they have devised a plan as to how to drive everyone in the neighborhood insane, and it's as simple as taking turns barking.

P.S.

Yes, Ray and Kim, we should have listened to you sooner. My apologies oh wise ones. You could now tell me that jumping off of a cliff would solve the barking problem and I would do it.

This Is What Happens...

2010-09-21T22:39:00.000-07:00

when you ask your husband to watch the baby while you assist your swollen-eyed daughter in getting ready for bed. And then they wonder why we insist on doing everything ourselves. Getting the lotion out of his hair was about as easy as digging sage out of your front yard.

And this is what allergies look like. No, she's not squinting. We're assuming that this is the result of playing in freshly mowed grass. I am very intrigued to see how tonight goes. Even more intrigued as to how tomorrow treats us.

Latest Scrapping Creations

2010-09-16T17:43:00.000-07:00

I have had the scrapbooking itch for the past week. If you have children and are married to a church/workaholic then you more than likely know how I feel. If not, then think of it as something similar to having an itch on the bottom of your foot. Yet you can't do anything about it because a force much greater than yourself has your arms and legs strapped to a bed so tightly that there is no way you could even rub it up against an inanimate object for some form of relief.

THE HORROR!

So, today I set aside about five minutes to review some of the pages I created a few weekends ago, when I wasn't feeling that itch until it was time to pack up and leave.

I apologize for the awful pictures. I am in desperate need of a 12x12 printer/scanner. That will be on my Xmas list this year.

DID YOU HEAR THAT SANTA?!

Frank-ly

2010-09-15T15:18:00.000-07:00

This past weekend our family decided to brave the 21 mile bike ride in Tahoe that we typically do several times throughout the summer.

However, being that I was pregnant last summer, it's been over a year since I've ventured on this trail designed for somewhat advanced bike riders. Sheesh, it was nearly year since I had even been on my bike at all. I had taken Vada on some rides around the neighborhood as a "warm up". Ha ha. Ha ha ha ha ha! Whooooo! Folks, I rode less than a mile with Broden's trailer tuggin' along behind me before I called it quits. There was no way I was pulling that sucker up any sort of incline.

Okay, in my defense I was pulling more than just the weight of Broden and the trailer! There was also our lunch/snack bag chillin' on the back of that thing. I swear to you, that bag alone weighed the equivalent of two Broden's.

What really killed me? The fact that Kody, my 16 year old brother-in-law who hadn't been on this ride EVER before hopped on there, like a true champ, and rode the rest of the way. Little ol' scrawny me was left to ride a friends bike. This friend is male, and much taller than me. So, there was one point that starting off from a dead stop just about ripped me a brand new bum-hole.

Let's just say that next year I will be better prepared. More training will be involved, we will bring less snackage, and I'll pack some gauze.

On a side note, when helmet shopping for Mr. Broden, Kyle happened upon this beauty:

It's hard to see, but IT'S A PAUL FRANK HELMET!

Dude!

That made the whole thing worth it.

Thank You Breakfast Club

2010-09-08T12:23:00.000-07:00

Thank you Allison Reynolds for giving Vada the brilliant idea of making breakfast cereal sandwiches her new lunch staple. Trust me, I didn't allow her to top it off with Pixy Stix, just a healthy side of applesauce and Wheat Thins.

Yep, I'm rolling my eyes with disgust too.

Another First

2010-09-08T12:10:00.000-07:00

This is the ending to the story of Broden's first time feeding himself. Quite a short story actually. I gave him the container of Vanilla Custard with a green plastic spoon. The spoon immediately jumped to the floor, leaving Broden no choice but to submerge his left hand into the sweet vanilla goodness. The rest, I'm sure, you can figure out for yourself.

Backyard Facelift

2010-09-03T12:41:00.000-07:00

As many of you know, we have been working our tails off to get our backyard looking decent and livable. By" livable", I mean safe to walk around barefoot. By "we", I mean mostly Kyle.

Hey! I pulled weeds and did my fare share of other things too, but someone had to watch the kids! And on those days when my parents or friends agreed to watch the kids so I could help, I ended up being the one that everyone yelled at to go get them water, or go grab that tool out of the garage, or to push the button that shut off the sprinklers. A couple instances of that and I decided I was done "helping", because I'm pretty sure I did all of that even when I did have the kids.

Besides, I think Kyle feels a huge sense of pride knowing that he did a majority of the work himself. Yes, he had help, and we thank you all for every single ounce of it, but he sacrificed just about every one of his weekends for a solid two and half months to work on our yard...in the summer heat. On top of working a more-than-full-time job and having to take off his shoes every time he had to come inside. I didn't care if he gave me the rolling of the eyes, I was not mopping...AGAIN.

So, first off, I'm going to show you some "before" pictures of our yard. Keep in mind that when we first moved in, the yard was even worse off than this. There were literally weeds taller than me growing all over the place, and sage playing the part of Julius Caesar. It took about five people every day for about a week to get it looking the way it does in these pictures:

To the right of the deck. Flowerbed full of weeds, balding lawn.

Right corner of the yard. Pathetic looking trees.

Directly in front of the deck, which is in the process of being demolished.

Left corner of the yard.

Left of the porch. The weeds favorite flowerbed and an open side yard where the dog kennel was kept.

Two and a half months and a few pretty pennies later, we have an awesome backyard that I love finding any reason what-so-ever to spend time in. You have no idea how much more enjoyable it is to lay out on the patio and look up at the stars once the sun has checked out and the crickets begin chirping.

Right of where the deck used to be. Bought ourselves a little patio table and everything.

Front of the patio. The pavers look MUCH better than that ratty old wooden deck.

Front-left

Left of the yard. Kyle built a fence to block off the side yard for the dogs.

I know our fence looks a tad weathered, but it's just going to have to hang in there as long as possibly. I'm not really looking forward to spending money on that...ever.

Next year: the front yard. Kyle can't wait.

Cheap Entertainment

2010-09-01T13:54:00.000-07:00

I'm fairly certain that these would be Broden's two favorite toys in the house. Toilet Paper Roll #1 and Toilet Paper Roll #2. More traditional names coming soon.

My Love Affair with Mr. Clean

2010-08-26T13:03:00.000-07:00

So, while I was frantically getting ready to invite MANY people over for Party Weekend, I discovered a love I never knew I was capable of having.

It started off in the master bathroom and worked it's way into the hall bathroom, kitchen, living room, and ended in the laundry room. It was hot, and lasted for a good hour and a half while Broden napped. Started clean, ended dirty.

Man, I kind of wished I was talking about sex right now.

No, I'm talking about the Magic Eraser by Mr. Clean. I had had a box of them in my cleaning supplies since earlier this year, but every time I looked at it I thought: I'm sure it can't work better than good ol' Comet and elbow grease. Oh my dear friends, I was terribly wrong. This thing truly is magic. Little to no elbow grease required. It took the Kool-Aid stains off of the refrigerator in two short swipes. Similar stains have caused beads of sweat to come running down my forehead because the amount of effort it takes to remove them.

I mean, this cleaning supply affair started out innocent with my only intent being to clean the bathtub. But once it wiped away the dirt in less than one minute, the dirt that I had just spent 10 minutes trying to scrub away with Comet and Soft Scrub, I knew it was meant to be. I started walking around the house looking for things to clean.

I guess it's supposed to last you a while, but I abused this poor thing to death. And I mean this quite literally. Tiny pieces were falling off of it as I was trying my very best to get every last bit of use out of it.

Before and After

They say you always remember your first. And oh, I will.

Still Gathering My Wits

2010-08-25T15:58:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the lack of posting, my friends. I had some major party-age to plan for this past weekend. Not only did we have Broden's First Birthday Hoopla, but we also had my mother's Hey, I Just Graduated with My Bachelor's Degree Hoopla. While both are extremely worth celebrating, this is the last time I throw two parties in one weekend.

And in making this decision to throw two parties in one weekend, this was my logic: I'm already going to have tables and tents set up, chairs borrowed and set out, house cleaned, and party food bought. So, why not just get it all over with at once?

Because you will lose your marbles people!

The chaos began Saturday afternoon. All day Friday and Saturday morning were wonderfully, splendidly terrific days. Sun was out, not too hot, bugs were minding their own business. Then God decided to spite me for the comment I made about how I don't pray for my lunch. I WAS KIDDING! Grey clouds rolled in, it began to sprinkle, and worst of all, the 30 MPH winds invaded my backyard. And for this reason, I could not hang the beautiful banner, that I was up until 3AM Friday morning making, above the table outside. Instead, I had to hang it above the sliding door leading into the backyard. Right in front of a window that we don't have blinds for. Therefore, all you could read on it was "Happy", and sometimes "Broden" if you stood at the right angle. I made people tough it out outside for lunch, but caved and moved dessert and gifts inside. Hmm, good thing I decided to clean my house.

Oh, and for the record, it was supposed to be a perfect day up until about three days before his party. And even then, it was just supposed to be windy. No dark clouds and a chance of rain! I just wanted to clarify so you didn't think I was one of those morons who decides to plan an outdoor party even though Channel 2 is saying there is supposed to be a hail storm.

By the time Sunday afternoon arrived, a perfect weather day I might add, and I realized we were going to be short on food and time to set up, I was yelling at people for merely not putting the napkins where I wanted them. I mean, come on! It's only obvious that the napkins should go on the right side of the table to balance out the punch and cups being on the left. Oh, no? WELL THAT'S HOW I WANT IT, SO JUST DO IT!

And yes, I AM the most awful daughter in the world because I was too exhausted to take pictures at my mother's shindig in between yelling at people to go get pizza, move the gifts inside, and not to step in the swampy low spot in the lawn.

But you know what? MY BABY BOY IS ONE...and...MY MOM IS A COLLEGE GRADUATE! It may have been so stressful that my hair is significantly thinner on the left side of my head now, but it was totally worth it. That's what hair extensions are for, right?

Here are some pictures from Broden's party:

The candle wasn't originally in the background,

but a good friend and an amazing artist, J Bell,

wanted to have some chalkboard fun.

Broden's First Birthday Dirt Pudding

Broden showing that pudding who's boss!

Starting Off

2010-08-16T10:04:00.000-07:00

Vada can now officially ride her bike all on her own. No training wheels required.

She was able to do this weeks ago, but we still had to help her start off.

I started getting tired of running outside every two minutes to help her start again, interrupting the many tasks that a mother and wife have once 4:30PM comes around (cooking dinner, finishing up laundry, feeding the baby, loading the dishwasher, etc.). So I decided that teaching her to start off on her own would be the next item on my To Do list to be crossed off. I told her what to do...she did it.

She's perfect.

But you already knew that.

Adventures in Oregon

2010-08-10T17:31:00.000-07:00

Last Thursday our family took a little road trip to Oregon for a wedding. With an infant. In a pickup truck. On windy roads.

Now whenever Broden sees his car seat he lets out a little whimper and gives this face that says, "Oh PLEASE, not again." Very similar to the face Smalls displays when told to get into his kennel.

Other than spending 12 hours in the truck on Thursday, and again on Monday, we had a splendid time. It was no Disneyland for the kids, but it was paradise for me. Coming home, a depressing feeling washed over me once the fullness of the trees started dissipating. If you have never been to Nevada, let me give you a heads-up. It is desert. And not the pretty type of desert filled with cacti and desert flowers. The ugly type of desert. Filled with sagebrush and...well...sagebrush is about it. Hence the fact that sagebrush is Nevada's state plant. Sure, Lake Tahoe is only about an hours drive away, but how often are you going to drive an hour just to hang out in Tahoe. Maybe a handful of times during the summer. Less in the winter because the drive on those icy roads is terrifying. Send me to the coast of Oregon! Trees practically growing on top of each other. Cool ocean breeze that can be felt miles away from the beach. Oceanfront property for a fraction of the cost it would be in California. Amazing sunsets. Scenic drives. Seriously fresh seafood. GREEN!

Some of you are saying to yourselves, "Yes, but I don't think I could deal with the constantly overcast weather." It really isn't that bad. Out of the three days we were there, only one day was seriously overcast. And I know not many people are like this, but I highly enjoy overcast weather. When we get an overcast day, you have no idea how much energy I have. I feel like I could accomplish at least a hundred things that are on my To Do List, which is nearly endless.

Maybe that's because I grew up in the Arizona desert. Sunny days typically mean sweating your brains out. Therefore, sunny days mean lazy days, because if you move at all your underwear will become drenched in your butt sweat.

Moving on to more pleasant conversation.

Our Oregon get away consisted of visiting the Tillamook Cheese Factory. Utterly exciting. Original, I know.

Site seeing at Cape Meares.

Visiting the Portland Children's Museum.

Wedding fun.

And twiddling our thumbs to think of what else we could do that would entertain a teenager, a 7 year old, and an infant. Hiking or anything of that nature was out of the question since I am anti-papoose (every time I say this I feel like Maggie Gyllenhaal's character in Away We Go, but I assure you, I love strollers).

My one complaint about Oregon: the lack of diaper changing stations. I think we only visited one place that had one, and that was the Children's Museum, so I'm not even sure if that should count. I understand if places such as state parks don't have them. I wouldn't change my child in one of those restrooms even if they did have one. Heck, I feel like they are crawling with super germs that can jump onto my rear even when I hover. But you would think that restaurants, grocery stores, and other like facilities would have enough consideration for caregivers to add this one little amenity to their public restrooms. If it weren't for Kyle's persisting me not to, I was this close to changing Broden's rancid diaper on one of the Quiznos dining tables. Two tables away from a couple enjoying their toasted sandwiches. Agreed, not very fair to the happy middle-aged couple, but I was trying to prove a point. Instead I just loudly proclaimed how displeased I was and went just a tad into detail about what his diaper looked like inside.

I really must bring this to an end now though. I have quite a few emails and letters to write to establishments who do not accommodate to the needs of those with infants.

Glory, Glory

2010-08-03T15:09:00.000-07:00

My not-so-little brother stopped by yesterday late morning after he had gone to work just to find out that he wasn't scheduled until 4 o'clock that afternoon. So, we were hanging out. Talking about whatever came up while I was doing the dishes.

I decided that I should do a test run of Broden's birthday pie. You know, just to make sure I can really make it and it doesn't turn out tasting like an old rubber shoe on the day of his birthday (if you know the chef side of me, you know that this is highly possible). While smashing up graham crackers with a coffee mug, my brother gets a call.

I hear bits and pieces of the conversations, but still ask him what it was all about. A friend of his had won two tickets to go see the Silversun Pickups playing that night. The catch: she couldn't go. She knew my brother would lick his own pimple-puss to be able to go, so she offered them to him. He then proceeded to ask me if I wanted to go. Hmm...I don't know...there's a lot of dirty laundry piling up that I should YES I'LL GO! Are you kidding me?! And here is his catch: he had to work from 4-9:30 that night and the concert started at 7. He was going to ask his shift manager if he could bail out early, but he didn't feel too confident that things would play out in his favor.

He went to work, asked the shift and he said that he would let him go around 7ish. Except, he couldn't use the phone to call me, since he was working and In-N-Out is lame and don't have store phone numbers available to the public, so I was sitting at home having no clue as to whether or not I should start getting ready. At about 7 I told Kody to start getting ready. If Jordan couldn't get off early then I was going to take Kody to the concert with me.

We get to In-N-Out as my brother is clocking out. Poor Kody had to go back home. I felt really bad because he was excited. I offered for him to go in my place, but he refused. What a gentleman.

We missed the first band and arrived as Against Me was setting up. My apologies to any Against Me fans, but listening to them was torture. Thank you to all the stars in Heaven for allowing me to have an iPhone. I Facebook'd and text'd during their entire set. Then the Silversun Pickups graced the stage and I will never regret leaving all of that dirty laundry on my bedroom floor last night.

They blew it away. Amazing. I was actually upset at myself for not having purchased tickets for this show, but glad I didn't because I got them for FREE.

The show ended, the house lights came on, and people started pushing their way out. We stayed just to gab about how great it was. And good thing too. As they were cleaning up the stage they threw out a bunch of picks that the band left on stage. And guess who got one....JORDAN! Him and two others bent down at the same time to snatch it up, but he was there first. One of those people was an attractive girl and as he went to put it in his pocket Mr. Angel popped onto his shoulder and whispered into his ear: "Give that cute girl the pick." He started reaching out to hand it to her, and written across her face was: That's right...give it to me you sucker. I reacted quickly. I smacked his hand down and yelled: "NO! YOU KEEP IT!" As fast as a gunslinger he put it in his pocket, turned around and walked away. I'm pretty sure that girl wanted to show her fists the back of my head a couple times, but oh well.

We had fun. And if the Silversun Pickups happen to be coming to your area soon, I would highly recommend spending the money to see them. Fantastic.

Mr. Rogers, I Want You to Be My Neighbor

2010-08-02T11:04:00.000-07:00

Saturday night, after a day filled with painting doors and baseboards, changing out nasty brass hardware, and dealing with a teething 11 month old, the idea of going to see a movie sounded wonderful. We decided on Charlie St. Cloud. After our meal of chicken wings from Buffalo Wild Wings (who, shockingly, had quick service this time) we skipped on over to the theatre. Not literally. That would have been rather difficult seeing that I was carrying 50 pounds of baggage on my shoulders.

We enjoyed it. Tears were shed, hearts ached for imaginary characters, and I was getting my fair share of exercise carrying Broden in and out of the theatre. Yes, I'm one of those mothers. One of those mothers who, after twice before having unsuccessful experiences with bringing her infant to the movie theatre, has false hopes that this time he will actually fall asleep shortly after the film begins. And he DID fall asleep, but not until the movie was shortly ending. I'm going to call this strike three. No more movie theatre for Broden until he is actually old enough to sit still and know that screaming at the flying birds on the screen is not deemed appropriate movie theatre etiquette.

All in all, we had a nice evening. That is, until our neighbor calls Kyle's cell phone just as we are merging onto the freeway. No, we didn't have an accident. Kyle is a very decent cell phone driver...as decent as they can get anyway. And even if he wasn't, he still wouldn't stop doing it. Okay, back to my story. It's the neighbor to the right of us (if your standing on our porch and facing the street). The neighbor that Vada loved so much when we first moved in that she even made her chocolate chip cookies in her Easy Bake Oven and delivered them herself. Our neighbor who is so old that she most likely remembers Taft being elected as President.

"Your dogs won't quit barking! They bark all day and now I'm trying to go to bed and they won't stop! I can't stand it anymore! Blah, blah, blah, blah, BLAH!"

Alright, in all fairness, I know how annoying dog barking can be. After all, I wanted to put a bullet into Angel's head when I first began my maternity leave because her barking was nonstop. BUT, she has seriously calmed down since then. She has become more familiar with the sounds of our neighborhood and the other dogs surrounding us. Recently, she only barks if she hears the garbage truck, another dog up against our fence, or someones voice she doesn't recognize. So, yes, when Ancient Lady next door has her son come pull her weeds in the backyard my dog is going to bark. Smalls...he typically only barks when he is hungry, though not incessantly. This was the case on Saturday night.

I was peeved the entire drive home. I couldn't think of anything else other than how much I wanted to record their barking and play it on repeat right up against the neighboring fence. Then she would know what dogs who wont quit barking really sound like. Kyle kept telling me to calm down and how I didn't need to have such a hateful attitude about it. How little he truly knows me. I can be the most bitter person in the world. Sometimes things happen and a bitter thought never crosses my mind. Or if it does, it may not last long. But then there are events that take place or words that are spoken that are tattooed into my memory, and every time my brain comes across it this feeling of anger and frustration washes over me and consumes me whole. You know, like the feeling you get when you ask your family repeatedly to remove their shoes before walking through house because you have a baby crawling around on that floor and sticking everything into his mouth, but they all just assume you have OCD and do it anyway, thinking that you will never notice the DIRTY SHOE PRINTS LEADING STRAIGHT TO THEIR BEDROOM! Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Alright, I've calmed down.

I would also like to say that I am a stay-at-home mother. Therefore, I am AT HOME for the majority of the day. No lie. I'm telling the truth. I can swear on the stars that my dogs do NOT bark all day. Yes, they bark. They are dogs. This is what they do. Having a dog that never barks is as odd as having a child who never cries. As a child cries when hurt, a dog will bark when feeling threatened. DEAL WITH IT.

What also irritates me is that another one of our neighbors happened to be talking to Ancient Lady about a week ago and she complained to him about our dogs. While she didn't ask him to speak to us, he offered since he talks to us on a regular basis...and we like him. And even given the circumstances I was still able to light our candles with the flames coming out of my ears. I mean, if she kept emptying out her colostomy bag in my yard, I would kindly go to her and ask her to stop. Sure, I might snicker about it in disgust with my other neighbors, but I wouldn't want them to do my dirty work for me. So, you can see why Saturday irritated me the way it did.

And even though these dogs drive me crazy, they are still my dogs. When you complain about their barking, which is a completely natural thing for a dog, it's like you complaining about my child accidentally hitting her kid in the face with the kickball. They're not doing it on purpose. They're just playing the game. Being kids. Being puppies. And while I talk about getting rid of them (the dogs that is), and may occasionally think about poisoning them when they wont quit yelping from the garage at four o'clock in the morning, I could never give them up. They are a part of our family, and Vada would be heart broken.

For now, when my dogs bark I step into the backyard, turn towards her house and yell as loud as I possibly can: "SHUT UP YOU DUMB DOGS! HUSH!" We'll see what annoys her most, their barking or my yelling.

P.S. - everyone's answer seems to be the bark collar. Unfortunately, we have tried this. It doesn't work. They have learned how to yelp without the collar dosing out an electric current to their throats. It was a waste of our money, and I'm not going to waste anymore on stupid gadgets such as these.

Squeaky

2010-07-26T23:03:00.000-07:00

I woke up around 7:30AM this past Saturday so I could get a head start on some yard work before it became too hot outside. I don't know about you, but I don't particularly enjoy feeling like a meal on a dish sitting under a heat lamp in the kitchen of a dirty restaurant. So, there I am, minding my own business. Pulling weeds, trying my best to stay in the shade, carrying on a conversation with Vada, ignoring the ache in my back. Okay, no longer able to ignore the ache in my back. I sat down on a board laying there on the ground because Kyle hadn't yet felt like sticking it in the garage. I lean over and I hear this squeak. The same exact squeak you would hear from a dogs chew toy. I ignore it. I bend over again. Squeak. Started to ignore it again but then I thought, "Hmm. Our dogs don't have any squeaky toys for the pure fact that they would drive me insane...like it's starting to do now." I bounce on the board to see exactly where it's coming from. To my right...under the board. I stand up and flip the board over to get the stupid toy that must have accidentally landed in our yard. Um...not a toy. To my complete amazement, it was a frog. Maybe a toad. Not quite sure how to tell the difference.

Reminder: I've never seen a frog outside of an aquarium EVER. So, this whole surprise!-I'm-a-frog-and-your-squeezing-the-squeaks-out-of-me thing has me a little nervous. I mean, what if he's pissed now that I bounced my butt on him a good 3-4 times and he decides to jump on my face and give me some weird frog rash on my eyelids?! Terrifying...I KNOW!

I get over this fear and put on my metaphorical big-girl pants in front of Vada so she doesn't freak out. I bend down to pick up the frog. Don't worry, no rash on the hands...I was wearing gardening gloves. Everything was great until he decided to squeak again. OH MY GOSH! Was I squeezing him too tight? Was this a warning? Was he sending out some sort of frog signal to his buddies so they would hop on my face?! We quickly found another cozy spot for him to call his home (he didn't like it though). Vada took a turn holding him, but she shared in my fear, so it didn't last long.

P.S. - Kyle still hasn't felt like putting that board in the garage. One more thing for my to-do list in the morning.

Tantrum

2010-07-23T14:16:00.000-07:00

This is now what Broden's tantrum's look like. These usually take place when he is tired and I refuse to pick him up, but occasionally occur in other instances as well.

This is how it plays out:

Crawls to my feet.

Reaches up and grunts.

Me: "Hang on buddy."

Bows his head to the ground like a Yogi master and twists body until laying flat on back.

Tearless crying.

It's rather cute actually. So cute that sometimes I would love to pick him up when he reaches for me, but I kind of want to see him roll himself onto the floor and give me the "Why don't you love me?" face.

I know, it's not going to be so cute when he's three and does this in the middle of a crowded store, but I don't want to hear about it.

The New Guest Bed

2010-07-23T14:03:00.000-07:00

I am very delighted to share with you today a glimpse of our new "guest bed".

Okay, yes, it is our new couch, but I'm pretty sure it's served as a guest bed more than it's true purpose since the day it was delivered.

And I admit, I have become: The Couch Nazi. No food or drink AT ALL is allowed on my beloved new living furniture. I am seriously in love with this couch, and the first time someone harms it justice will be served. I promise you this! I just about peed my pants when I came home the other night and saw that Kyle had the nerve to eat an otter-pop on this delicate treasure. AN OTTER-POP! Hellooooo? Do you think this is a joke? I assure you that it is not! GET THE OTTER-POP OFF OF MY COUCH!!!!!!

As nervous as I was to drop the nice chunk of change this baby cost us, fighting back the urge to blow chunks all over the RC Willey sales floor, I am so extremely wonderfully excited we did. I knew our old couches were pitiful, but I didn't realize how much they contributed to my design depression until they were actually out of my house and this slate colored beauty took their place.

Kyle and I are waiting a little while longer to christen it. We want to make sure it is fully comfortable in it's surrounding. Oh, but don't worry, I've already starched it, and I own multiple bottles of Lysol Disinfectant Spray.

Back to the Grind She Goes

2010-07-12T10:33:00.000-07:00

Most people feel as if Vada was gypped of a summer vacation, being that she attends a multi-track school where her summer vacation is a grand total of about three weeks. But to be honest, she starts to lose her marbles after a few weeks of being deprived hot lunches and recesses with all of her friends.

Today was her first day as an Official Second Grader. She met her teacher, saw friends she hasn't talked to all "summer", and ran into her first grade teacher.

As she stood in line waiting for Mrs. Clark to lead the students from the playground to the classroom, she looked somewhat out of place. She is one of the tallest kiddos in her class. Her and two other girls are tall enough to pass for third graders! At least I know that I'm not the only one who has difficulty finding their child a bathing suit that fits properly. There are at least two other mothers in this town who share my frustration.

For those of you whose children have not yet started back to school, this years female fashion is SUPER high top Converse All-Stars worn with Capri pants. This pairs well with a graphic tee consisting of your child's cartoon of choice. To really pull the look together, accessorize, accessorize, accessorize! Vada has chosen this hounds tooth cap to balance out her garb. If you need any advice regarding second grade apparel, feel free to contact me and I will consult with my assistant Vada and get back to you ASAP.

Can't wait to see what is "in" next year!

Short One

2010-07-07T12:48:00.000-07:00

Just a short little something before Broden and I take off for Arizona to go pick up our little monkey.

Broden has recently become addicted to Starbuck's Iced Soy Chai Latte's. He is truly my son.

And he has become quite the little helper when it comes to laundry.

I will miss you guys while I am gone (tear) and can't wait to write a decent post when I get back.

xoxo

Acknowledgement

2010-07-02T22:13:00.000-07:00

I would like to take this time to give a "two claps, YOU ROCK!" to some boys.

These boys have been working their heinie off the past few weeks to help us get our backyard done. And now that it is THIS close to being complete, I figured I would give them the internet praise that they deserve.

Leonel and Brandon: I feel like I've helped raise you the past few weeks. I'm so proud of you guys. You've become like part of our family. So much so that I'm not embarrassed to talk about the nitty-gritty details of birthing children with you...wait, I'm not really embarrassed to do that with anyone, but that's beside the point. I'm adding you guys to my "Who-to-Buy-for Xmas List".

To all the young and single Reno/Sparks girls: They are single, but you better act fast, because that won't last for long.

To their parents: you guys are just as awesome for raising some very polite young boys. We appreciate you allowing them to help us.

The gentleman on the right is taken. Sorry ladies, I'm the only one who gets to enjoy his "talents". But the stud on the left is Jason, and he's single as well. Wink, wink.

Really though Jason, we truly value all of the help you have given us in the backyard. All for the simple payment of beer to drink while you're working away. How awesome are you? PRETTY AWESOME.

I like the word awesome.

And last but not least, my husband. My awesomely adorable husband whom I can't help but think about in naughty ways when he's operating heavy duty machinery. He has worked off more than his heinie. I can't even begin to explain how grateful I am to him for all of the work he has done. He gets out there no matter how hot it is and works until the sun sets with little to no breaks. He knows how to get it done! Some things might be a little ghettofied. And I may make him go back and fix it, or complain until he does. But it gets done none-the-less. Nice work ethic babe.

Hopefully the yard will be FINISHED by next weekend. Sod is tomorrow. Then we just have to plant our shrubs and add the mulch. You have no idea how excited we are to just sit back there, patio furniture or no patio furniture, and just stare at our beautiful yard while sipping on some fruity summer cocktails. It's all going to be so worth it.

Feel free to come join us.

A Little Somethin' Somethin' (wink)

2010-07-02T09:25:00.000-07:00

A little card that I made for Kyle's grandmother's birthday. I know pride is a sin, but I am very proud of this gem. The cupcake completes it. Without the cupcake, the card would be nothing. SUCH A CUTE CUPCAKE! Thank you Martha Stewart and team for creating darling 3D cupcake stickers that make me want to make sweet, passionate love to them. I wonder what our babies would look like...? (insert dream bubble)

Mission Failed

2010-06-23T14:56:00.000-07:00

In an attempt to save a little money and get Broden used to eating food with more texture to it, I decided that I would make his baby food from now on.

We took a trip to Trader Joe's yesterday afternoon to load up on some delicious fruits and veggies as the first step to tackling this little project. $47.01 later I'm thinking that starting my own little produce garden isn't such a bad idea.

Seeing that I didn't get my hands on a blender till nearly 11pm (I'm not going into that one) I only accomplished the pureeing of carrots and asparagus. I was thrilled to the thrilled. I wanted to wake up Broden that instant to make him try it. Instead, I waited till lunch time this afternoon.

His face said it all. It was disgusting. Carrots and asparagus both. He was gagging so much by the fifth bite of asparagus that I thought his tongue was going to tumble out onto his tray. I can't say I really blame him. Just looking at it makes my stomach want to climb into my throat.

I'm still going to give a couple fruits a try. I have a feeling those won't be as bad. Sugar helps everything.

We'll stick to buying the Gerber veggies and adding rice cereal to them, since no stores around these parts like to stock up on anything in the Step 3 foods other than Lasagna and Turkey Dinner, which he hates almost as much as the homemade asparagus.

A message to his future wife: Don't take it personally if he won't eat your home cooked meals consisting of asparagus and cooked carrots. It's my fault. I accept full responsibility.

Rivers Cuomo Doppelganger

2010-06-23T14:14:00.000-07:00

Or is it just me?

Fun with Photo Booth

2010-06-16T12:39:00.000-07:00

Another reason why I'm going to Hell in a hand basket

2010-06-10T12:00:00.000-07:00

I'm not quite sure if I should start this with the flower or potting soil. I'm thinking that since the soil part of the story began to take place before the flower part of the story, I'll start there.

Soil: A few weeks ago, Kyle decided that in order to do yard work, he first needed an organized garage. A good portion of the day was spent in the garage rather than in the yard as planned. I can't make fun of him for this because I do this sort of thing all the time, but you can if you would like. Anywho, in the process, he came across a bag of potting soil with a hole in the bottom. Thank you Smalls. He stuck it in the "Going to the Dump" pile, but me, being the frugal person I am, told him not to throw away a perfectly good bag of soil just because it could no longer be contained in it's original packaging. So, when it came time to load up the trailer, the bag was left standing alone. I was busy pulling weeds and when it came time to clean everything up, I completely spaced about the bag of soil sitting up against our house next to the garage door. It sat there for a good week before I finally put my laziness at bay and pulled it inside the garage, where it sat for another week.

Flower: I believe this part of the story occurred on the same day as above. I took the kids to a friends house, and while there, was given two rose bush starters. I apologize if "starters" is not the scientific term, but I forget what they called them. Julie? Anywho...again...I brought home these two baby rose bushes. Completely scared that I would kill them in two days and bring shame to my family. Well, good news, I HAVEN'T KILLED THEM....yet. I have full intentions of planting them in our front yard once we get the area cleared, but for now, they have to get cozy in some pots.

Before I continue, I want to remind all of you, again, of how picky I am. I have gone to at least four stores now searching for the perfect pot for these flowers. Most pots are too...sophisticated for me. Pots that you would find walking up to a Victorian home, or a home in which the woman who lives there enjoys a high class decorating theme. Not my style. I want a laid back pot. One that's not too plain but yet doesn't like to show off. One that has character. Do you realize how hard it is to find a pot like that?! And if I did find one that lived up to my standards, it was a one ton planter that would intimidate my stick with leaves and force it to kill itself due to the embarrassment. I finally decided to check out Walmart one more time with the intentions of just settling. But I couldn't do it. I just can't settle. I walked away, yet again disappointed, and headed towards the Garden Center checkout stand to purchase my Chapstick and Pop Tarts. That was when I caught a glimpse of it. On the back, bottom shelf, tucked away in the corner was hiding my pot. The universe finally brought us together.

Okay, now I can begin with today's continuation of the story: I laid Broden down for his first nap of the day and decided to use that time to introduce my Coco Rose Bush to his new friend. I grabbed the bag of soil, leaving a soil trail from our garage to the front steps. I start to grab a handful of soil to put in the bottom of the pot and I get stabbed. What the heck! I look inside the bag and there is a bunch of heroine needles just chillin' there. No, not really, it was just a bunch of twigs. I'm thinking, "Oh wonderful, because I was too lazy to move the bag a bunch of the dead twigs from the crap Kyle was piling next to it fell inside. STUPID LAZINESS!" I pull some out and try to scoop out a pretty good handful of soil. SO MANY TWIGS! Then, I come across this ball. What the heck? Is this something they started to add to bags of soil to keep them fresh or something. Can soil go bad? I pull it out and that's when I realize it's an egg. Holy Crap! Keep feeling around...another egg, and another egg. Six eggs total. I just demolished a birds nest! Then it dawned on me, I actually murdered those bird fetuses when I pulled them into the garage a week ago! What makes it worse is that they were quail eggs. I killed six of my favorite birds. The Devil is laughing at his victory.

WARNING: This post contains a little bit of everything

2010-06-07T12:02:00.000-07:00

First, I just want you to know: you are looking at a Grand Slam hitter. That's right, Grand Slam baby! He will be signing head shots next weekend, so if you would like a signed copy then just shoot me an email with your address and I'll send one to you...free of charge.

Kody came home one night last week (I know what you are thinking: and she's just NOW telling us about this?! - yes, I've been a little busy.) and told Kyle and I that he needed to talk to us and for us to meet him in the living room. Of course I say, "You didn't get someone pregnant did you?!" Thank goodness the answer was "NO". Not that I would judge, I just know how hard it can be to travel in those shoes. After all, I've worn them. ANYWAY, we sit down and he's trying very hard to keep a straight face (FYI: Kyle and Kody are horrible actors). Then a smile from ear to ear violates his face and he tells us that he hit a Grand Slam tonight during one of his summer baseball games. Very exciting. Very very exciting. Both Kyle and I felt like complete butts for not being there, but there is so much going on in our schedules right now that we just cant be at everything.

Kyle had to miss Vada's game on Saturday due to yard work. I didn't think she would mind all that much, but after the game she asked why he wasn't there. You could sense the disappointment in her voice, but it didn't linger long. And speaking of the game, I don't think she was feeling at one with the bat, but she still played as hard as she could for just coming from a bowling birthday party. During one play she was running from first to second and one of the players on the opposite team tried to tag her. Um, the ball, his mitt, his NOTHING touched her. His foot never even touched the bag while the ball was in his glove! But the idiot of a coach (for the opposite team) called it as an out. Okay, so the kids are playing for fun at this age and there is no keeping score, but you better make sure that the kids know how the game is really played! IDIOT! And I know what you're thinking, but it wasn't not just me. I actually didn't even make the first comment about it. Vada was rather irritated. You could tell she wanted to give that coach a piece of her mind, but by the time the game ended she was over it. Oh, and to top it off, she was smacked with the ball when at bat. I'm pretty sure she's not going to pick baseball as her extra curricular activity again.

This is an example as to why teachers should email parents regarding important events such as, well, um, SCHOOL PICTURES! I never received a single flyer announcing that pictures were coming up. So, of course, the day I tell Vada that it is the LAST time she can where her glow-in-the-dark skeleton shirt before giving it to Goodwill, and the day that some kid decides to throw a rock without checking to make sure someones head isn't in the way, is the day of school pictures. I swear, if there is such thing as karma, here it is. Is it a surprise that we denied the purchase of these pictures?

So, what this outfit is telling me is that his college savings that we've been adding towards has been in vain? Sweet! Now we can afford that entertainment center we've been eyeballing. Woohoo!

Broden has been miserable the past few days. He has his brief moments of giggles and fun times, but they don't last very long. Little man is cutting at least two teeth at once...possibly three. He's running a low grade fever and produces enough snot in a single day to create a nice thick, even layer of snot jelly for my toast the next morning. We've been keeping him doped up on Children's Tylenol, teething tablets, and Vick's VapoRub. If he's not better within the next couple days, or gets worse, then we'll be off to the doc.

And for your viewing pleasure, here are the pavers that we have decided on...until we change our minds. We will either be using solely the large ones OR...

a combo of all three, like the picture above (courtesy of Home Depot's display).

We will be submitting our desired house color to the HOA this week. Since it is a deep red, we thought grey pavers would be best. Red pavers would be a little overkill. If they don't approve, our second choice would look nice with red or grey. Convenient.

Kyle, Kody and a few friends busted their humps on Saturday working on our backyard. I was pretty surprised that Kyle even woke up for church the next morning. Surprised and a little disappointed. I spent another day pulling weeds while a friend babysat Broden, and Vada was in school. Four bags total. I made a dent this time, but nothing to where you could look in the backyard and say, "Holy crap, you worked your hiney off!"I did get a gnarly sunburn on my back to display my commitment to weed hatred. It's turning into a tan...only slightly peeling where my bra straps are constantly torturing me as pay back for not hand washing them.

And the Broden Monster is awake. That's my cue to get off the computer or else he will make my life hell for not holding him and allowing him pound at the keys like he's playing Whack-a-Mole.

Summary of Memorial Day Weekend

2010-06-01T23:11:00.000-07:00

Busy. Yep, that sums it up.

While many out there cherished the laziness they were able to partake in on this lovely three day weekend, we were not those people. Instead, on the days leading up to this weekend we thought, "Yay! An extra day to participate in manual labor! Who's with us!?!" (cue chirping crickets) Conveniently, Kody had a baseball tournament all weekend. And it wasn't until Saturday morning that it dawned on us: um, how am I supposed to help when we have a 9 1/2 month old that needs constant supervision?

Thank you Ashley Woods for being so willing to give up the few hours you had to just veg at home to watch our children Saturday morning/afternoon...at the VERY last minute. Literally. Yes, we are so thankful that I gave you your own mini paragraph. Embrace it.

So, while Kyle diligently worked to demolish our rickety old deck, I worked in the rock garden...yet again. All I have left to do is rip out the bunch of clover and remove the ONE AND A HALF MILLION ANNOYING PURPLE BULBOUS FLOWERS! That will only take TWO MORE WEEKENDS! Don't get me wrong, they are pretty, but they multiply faster than bunnies and spread quicker than the plague. They're dominate little buggers and we all know how much I hate dominance...unless it's coming from me.

Sunday: I spent the afternoon (remember: we are the God Fearing People...we attend church Sunday morning AND Sunday night) entertaining the kids and cleaning the kitchen while Kyle finished hacking the deck like he was the killer in some horror film. By the end of the day you could eat out of our kitchen sink and start a bonfire in our backyard.

Boutcher Barbecue

Monday: Since Vada had spent the night at a friends house, Broden went back to sleep after a 6:30AM bottle and Kyle was taking advantage of the quiet to catch a few extra Z's, I slipped on the gardening gloves and went to pull some weeds in the front yard. I was later reprimanded for not waking Kyle up sooner because he had stuff to do (gosh, I was just trying to be nice!). He finished loading up the trailer and made a dump run, which in turn made us late to the Memorial Day Barbecue at the Boutcher's home. Sorry Scott and Sarah! After that, we went directly over to Kyle's Uncle Gene and Aunt Patti's home for more amazing food. I was completely stuffed by the end of the day and was thoroughly convinced I wouldn't have to eat until at least Wednesday.

Left

Right

And today, I sent Broden over to my parent's house to hang out with Tata while I spent a good five hours pulling weeds. Five hours! Bent over and yanking unwanted plants out of the ground. Five hours that ended in a destroyed flipflop, two large garbage bags filled with weeds and little bits of trash, pissed off ants, a hole in my right gardening glove, sore fingers, and a yard that looks like I didn't even touch it. It's so rewarding when you work so hard all day and your husband comes home, looks in the backyard and asks, "What did you do? Where did you pull weeds?" And you look into the backyard with him and honestly say, "I don't know, I can't tell."

Due to an aching back and tender finger tips, I will be taking a break tomorrow. I'll stick with laundry, vacuuming and dancing around in my socks and underwear.

New Favorite Outfit

2010-05-25T12:29:00.000-07:00

"Chicks Dig Scars"

I'm pretty sure I will shed tears when this doesn't fit him anymore.

Paul Frank: Thank you for making baby clothes.

Target: Thank you for carrying them, even though I still hate your return policies.

Things That Happen On Rainy Days

2010-05-24T23:53:00.000-07:00

Thank you God for having a sense of humor, but really, there IS such thing as too much. You're going a little over bored here. It's not really funny anymore. Warm weather...cold weather...tanning weather...hot chocolate weather...sunshine...hail. Could you please stop?! I stopped laughing a while ago and now I'm just getting annoyed.

We had been planning on this past weekend being a yard work weekend. I was really geared up for it. I mean, how often is someone excited to pull weeds? I blame it on Broden's first birthday party being only a couple months off, so in my defense: I'm not completely insane. Although. with God's weather pranks, it's not far off.

We woke up Saturday morning, took Broden to spend some quality time with Nana and stuck on our green thumbs. Well, I did at least. I started with the weeds in the backyard, but the ground was too cold and hard, so no roots were wanting to come out. I moved to the side yard. That was going a bit more smoothly, but then Kyle told me to get out of his way. Story of my life. So, I planted my knees in the rock garden in our front yard. Man, I wish I would have taken before and after pictures. Okay, well, it's not completely an "after", but it looks a heck of a lot better than it did "before". And let me just say this: it WOULD be a complete "after" if God didn't decide to have a good laugh by hailing on our heads. It started slowly, so we thought we could just work right through it, but that wasn't giving Him any amusement. And down it came...and inside we went.

Meanwhile, at Nana's house, Broden's comforter was completed. YYYYAAAAAAYYYYY!!! I must say, I'm quite tickled at how it turned out. FYI: I had originally ordered an orange rocket fabric and a muted blue diamond patterned fabric for this home-made comforter project. When I received them in the mail, the blue was not the same blue that came across my computer screen. Right away I knew that wasn't going to make the final cut, but it'll make a cute average baby blanket. So, it was decided: orange rockets on one side and chenille on the other. Then, as time went on I decided I wasn't too psyched about the orange anymore, but I didn't really know WHAT I wanted. Once Vada decided on a plain white duvet cover with black bed sheets, that's when I knew. Simple yet classic black and white was the winner. I went to Joann's on Friday afternoon and found this amazing fabric. And guess what...there was JUST enough left for this project on the spool. Heck yes! So, on Saturday, in between painting her fireplace wall and keeping Koda from eating Broden, my mom finished the comforter. THE comforter. Completed. Done. FINISHED! Isn't it beautiful? Just say yes.

And while I was pulling weeds, Kyle was cleaning out the garage, Kody was loading up the dump trailer, and my mom was being wonder woman, Smalls was working at getting that garbage bag I placed on the other side of the child gate. And he was successful. So successful in fact that both Kyle and I wanted to kill him. The more I think about it, the more I think that naming him Smalls was an absolute jinx. Not only did he succeed in ripping a hole in the bottom of the garbage bag and ingesting some week old rotten food scraps, he also succeeded in nearly digging a hole leading right into the crawl space. Thank goodness he just ruined the cork flooring. HOLY LOGS OF POOP! He scraped the CRAP out of our cork floor! This was a prime time to practice having that patience that I've been working so hard on having more of. Still working on it.

I'm becoming fairly certain that cold weather and hail in late May are jinxed too. Okay God, jokes over.

As Promised

2010-05-20T00:15:00.000-07:00

Here is a glance at Broden's new crib. It's not black like I originally wanted, but that original want didn't turn out too well.

See, here's the thing, we bought a white crib from a friend of ours thinking, "We're helping the planet...it won't take much to refinish...we're helping out friends...we're saving money." Oh man, was I naive...again.

A word of advice to all future mother's out there: just register for the new crib. If no one buys it, use your gift cards to put towards it. It will save you so much time, energy and disappointment.

Back to my story. So, just a few weeks after Broden's arrival I took a piece of the crib into Home Depot and asked the man in the paint department what I would need to do to refinish the white crib in a black finish. He picked up the piece, took a good look at it and told me that all I would need is a few cans of black spray paint and the job would be done. Me: Are you sure I don't need to sand, prime, or saw anything to make sure it sticks? Him: Nope. Me: Yippy!

Ten cans later, the crib looked awesome unassembled. Then we put it together and realized that there was nothing we could do about the white plastic pieces. Sore thumb times ten! Oh well, we would just make sure that when he was in a toddler bed we would go all out and get something we really wanted. A few days later we realized that the paint was scratching off the plastic in a few places...no big deal. It wasn't anywhere that Broden could reach. Then last week is when I noticed it. My dear little boy was mad that I didn't come rushing in fast enough to rescue him from his nap pin and decided to start chomping on the railing of the crib while screaming. As I watched his bottom teeth (his only teeth) scrape against the railing, flakes of black paint sprang off of the wood.

At that very moment I wanted to drive down to Home Depot, grab that boy by his collar and yell, "LIAR!" right in his face and make him buy me a new crib. The frustration was almost unbearable. Because now all I can think about is how I've poisoned my son with flaking spray paint. What a stupid mother! I should have known that just a couple layers of spray paint was too good to be true. Will this be held against me on judgement day?

I immediately went online to browse where I could find a safe yet cheap crib. I'm sure it's no surprise who the winner was...Ikea. For only $79 we scored a simple crib that can be converted into a toddler bed. It's not black, but that's alright. I could put a stain on it, but that's just too much work that I'm not willing to do. And I really don't need a repeat of this incident...or anything like it.

And how do you like his new little chair (Ikea)?! I thought it was too cute to pass up for only $29. And he loves it. He'll just sit in it and play with whatever toy strikes his fancy for that minute. Today, it was the drum stick.

Other items in this photo:

Wall Art: courtesy of Vada Snyder.
Blanket: One of my favorites made by one of my longest friends Lauren King.
Mobiles: Ikea...duh.
Broden: My wonderful creation! (Kyle helped)

One Down...

2010-05-19T00:17:00.000-07:00

Things have been crazy around these parts. Grandparents in town for their yearly trip, everyone expecting me to do all of the chores around the house, going on two road trips in two weeks, Vada being off track, Broden going through the Must-Be-Held-Every-Waking-Moment phase, etc. Ha ha, and I thought being a stay-at-home mom would be less stressful. Oh man, was I naive.

Here is my to do list for tomorrow:

Get everything on the kitchen table put in it's place
Get my desk organized
Throw away Gadget (the now dead crab) and put away the tank
Wash, dry and fold at least two loads of laundry
Take Broden's old crib to Goodwill (I will explain a little later)
Blog
Catch up on a few of the blogs that I follow (I'm about 2 weeks behind, which means it will take me hours to catch up!)

Hahahahaha! Oh boy. Ha. Ya, I think it's rather funny that I would be thinking I could get all of this done in one day too. But you see, I'd rather have too much stuff on my list than too little. Sure, I get super irritated at the end of the day if everything on my list isn't completed, but if I only put a couple things on my list and complete them before the day is over, I would be forced by my psychotic brain to start random projects and only half way complete them before moving on to another. Do you get my logic?

ANYWAY, on to more important things. As some of you may know, this past weekend was our little road trip to San Francisco. We went for a few reason:

My grandparents have never been before
My parents wanted to see some friends that would be visiting the area as well
Most importantly, Vada and I had a concert to attend Sunday evening

Vada, Broden and I left Saturday as the sun was rising to meet my parents and grandparents so we could caravan to the hotel in Fairfield. We then proceeded to Alcatraz, which was pretty nifty. Sunday: church, lunch, and an hour driving down the same streets over and over trying to find the theatre. At one point turning down a one way road...THE WRONG WAY! I've never been so freaked out. I thought I pulled myself together, but then my dad called to ask me a question and I lost it. And in the mean time, Vada is in the backseat asking me about songs she's listening to on my Shuffle. "What is he saying right here?", "Why do you have the same song on here twice?, "Will he play this song at the concert?". Between the one way road fiasco and trying to find a free parking spot, I was going to go bonkers. Seriously.

We finally found a spot that was decent. Less 5 minutes walking distance to the theatre. We have 2 hours till the concert starts and I'm doing my best to keep Vada entertained while standing in line. We started off with a little Paper, Rock , Scissors then switched it up with a little Eye Spy. And just before we ran out of things to "spy", the gal in front of us started up a conversation with Vada. I think she noticed how desperate I was to make sure that Vada didn't give up on the whole concert experience before it had even began. Turns out she was a 4th grade teacher from Lincoln, CA, so she was pretty good at keeping the conversation going.

About a quarter after 7 they began letting people enter. We went directly to our seats because Vada was sick of standing. I kept trying to talk her into standing at the stage but she just kept saying no. "Come on! It's really cool to be that close, and sometimes the people on stage will talk to you..." This did it. She finally agreed to try it out for the opening band. Well, turns out we couldn't get close enough for her to actually see anything that was going on, except for whatever the dude in front of her did with his butt. So, when the opening band came out to play, I held her. OH. MY. GOSH. The kid is not light! I pushed through the first song, but made her hop on my shoulders for the next two songs. After that, my back felt like it was going to snap in two at the top of my tail bone, so I had to put her down. She wanted to finish out the rest of the concert in our seats upstairs.

I don't know if you have ever heard of Kate Miller-Heidke, but she was the one opening for Ben Folds. Oh ya, Ben Folds is who we were going to see. Did I fail to mention that? Anywho, Vada was in love with Kate's music. Ben hadn't even played yet and she was saying she was better than him. After her set we went down to buy one of her CD's and on our way to the back of the line we crossed paths with Kate. Vada was speechless and Kate was in a hurry, so the little meet-and-greet lasting a whopping 3 seconds. We stood in line for about 4 minutes before making it to the front. That's when we saw that Kate was standing there signing CD's. The look on Vada's face was priceless. PRICELESS. We bought the CD and a t-shirt and as Kate was signing the sleeve, Vada asked if she could please sign her hand too. "Only if you promise not to get it tattooed." I'm sure that was meant to be funny, but Vada was so star-struck that all she could do was smile. No talking, barely moving, staring. She was so freakin' excited! Which in turn made my night. Duh.

Later that evening we went to the restroom and Vada asked if she could use my Germ-X. I wasn't even thinking and just whipped it out of my bag. I watched as she carefully covered each spot of her hands except where Kate had signed. And to top it off, the beverage man threw a small handful of cherries in her coke. I'm pretty sure I have just created a concert-loving 7 year old.

And may I remind you that her bedtime is between 8 and 8:30. So when she decided to close her eyes after Ben played her favorite song I wasn't that surprised. She woke up for a couple songs after that, but she was napping for a good majority of the set. Don't take it personally Ben.

The concert ended and I received the pleasure of carrying her all the way to the car. Now do you see why it was so important to drive around forever to find a parking spot that wouldn't take me 20 minutes to get to? My back is still hurting from that. I was half way expecting to walk around the corner and my car to be missing. Towed away legally for some parking crime I was oblivious to. But no, MY CAR WAS THERE....AND PERFECTLY FINE! You see, the whole time we were waiting in line I was secretly thinking over and over again: "Please don't let someone break into my car....please don't let someone break into my car..." and on and on. It probably wasn't the most shady part of San Francisco, but it sure was shadier than the streets of Sparks, NV. I was even bracing myself to not pee my pants when someone tried to mug me as I was putting my sleeping child into the car underneath a burnt out street light. Thank you God.

So, that's one more thing to check off of what my mom likes to call my "Bucket List" (still haven't seen that movie). Next, buying a new couch.

Thursday: road trip to Utah to visit some family I haven't seen in a few years...or more. Lord be with me. Broden did alright for the 2 1/2 hour car ride to San Francisco, but there's no telling how he'll do for an 8 hour stretch of being car seat bound. I'm thinking this time won't be as pleasant.

And I'll fill you guys in on the crib story tomorrow. I have to get some good pictures of the new one first.

Lastly, to the man who passed by me on my way to my car Sunday night....I love you too...for the mere fact that you did not mug me. Thank you.

My First Oreo

2010-05-10T22:47:00.000-07:00

Okay, more like Broden's first Oreo.

Someone had some Oreos last night and left a few on the ottoman (not naming any names, but I'm pretty sure it was the oldest male in the house). Well, guess who found them this afternoon?

I figured: "This should be fun. Broden all cute and messy with a sugar high."

Oh boy, let's just say that "reupholstering the ottoman" just got bumped up a bit on the good ol' McClan To Do List.

Monday Monday...

2010-05-10T11:28:00.000-07:00

The plan this morning was to run errands till about lunch time, but when Vada stumbled into my room this morning she begged for today to just be a lounge day. And how can I argue with that?! After all, I am still recovering from that jerk we like to call pneumonia. And I really should use today to get stuff done around the house since the next couple weeks will be filled with time away from home:

Tomorrow night and most of Wednesday will be spent in Lake Tahoe with an awesome friend. Kids playing and moms enjoying Mom Talk. Don't be jealous.
This weekend my parents, grandparents, me & the kidlets will be heading to San Francisco. Vada and I will be attending the Ben Folds concert Sunday night and then making our way back on Monday possibly. I CANNOT WAIT!
Next weekend will be spent in Utah visiting family I haven't seen in years.
And in between all of that I will be spending time with my Arkansas grandparents (aka my dad's dad and his wife).

So there you have it: I have to get everything done today. I wonder if Harry Potter is busy and could help out with his little magic wand...?

So far this morning, I somewhat successfully reorganized our kitchen pantry to accommodate some of the do-dads that are slowly swallowing my kitchen counter. I was hoping to clear a spot to store all of Broden's baby food, but I just couldn't do it. It doesn't help that our pantry is the most odd shape in the world. Seriously, who was the genius who thought: Hey, wouldn't it be brilliant to make the pantry anything but a perfect square or rectangle?! Yes! Genius! Well Mr. Genius, I would like to point out that other than things like soup cans and peanut butter jars, just about everything sold on the grocery store shelves has two congruent sides!

My next project for this afternoon: getting my desk in the bedroom orderly and functional. I'm going to make you proud! (tear), (sniff).

The Sickness

2010-05-04T09:03:00.000-07:00

Sorry there are no pictures to go along with this post, but I just wanted to inform the world that it may be a few more days before I update my blog.

I've got the pneumonia. And it sucks horse dung! I wouldn't wish this upon anyone. Seriously. Other than that time I had tonsillitis, I've never wanted someone to just shoot me dead so badly.

Okay, and not only do I not yet have insurance which meant I had to fork over $207 for my prescriptions, but I constantly feel DISGUSTING! The fever gives me the chills, but my body is so hot that I'm sweating profusely under the covers. Every time I cough I think about the germs I'm releasing into the air. Everything I touch becomes contaminated. I barely have the energy to type all of this. I'm super hungry, but I know that the moment something goes into my mouth I'm just going to want to spit it out because my stomach is rebelling against me. And if I do get the nerve to swallow it, the taste it leaves in mouth makes me want to gag. And my back and neck are so stiff that you could use them as stepping stones in your garden.

Oh, and speaking of garden...my tomato plant is toast. Didn't I tell you?!

The New Life

2010-04-30T15:21:00.000-07:00

And this is what it was like for my first day as a stay-at-home-mama:

Against the will of my own, my first day of corporate freedom began at 4:55...IN THE MORNING! Yes, since I am now the "stay-at-home-mom", Kyle has deemed it my full responsibility to deal with Smalls and his before-the-sun-rises yelps. Alright, I can kind of see where this is fair...IF I HAD THE ABILITY TO NAP IN THE AFTERNOON! But no...no naps for me. Oh, you're asking me why? Here is why:

I have an 8 1/2 month old son who is completely mobile, likes to stick anything he can get his hands on into his mouth (yes, even dust bunnies), eats every 3-3 1/2 hours, cries if he is not within 3 feet of me, and whimpers for me to hold him when he starts getting tired. Oh, and it's not like you can just lay this man down when the signs of "need a nap" begin to show themselves. You have to wait until he has yawned at least twice and is rubbing his eyes. If you lay him down before either of those, you're only fighting a losing battle. Baby ALWAYS wins.
When Broden goes down for a nap, that is my only chance to do anything that requires either the use of two hands or walking from one room to another faster than he can crawl. Or to perform nasty tasks in which you don't want little fingers involved in (more details to follow).
ANGEL NEVER STOPS BARKING!

Now that I have clarified that being home all day doesn't mean soap operas, oreos, and princess naps, I will move on.

First, it was so amazingly awesome not to have to push Vada out the door with one foot while balancing on the other, holding a 17 pound baby on my left arm and a backpack, a purse, and my breakfast drink in my right hand. Instead, she woke up, took her time eating breakfast, took her time getting dressed, and watched Avatar while I combed her hair and fed Broden. When it came time to leave for school, we loaded ourselves in the car without a fear of being late and dropped Vada off for one fine Thursday of first grade learning.

While we were getting Vada out of the car, Broden was LIVID! How dare he have to sit in his car seat while the car was in park! Didn't I know better?! He fell asleep on the way to the grocery store. Yep, there is nothing more awesome than having your 8 1/2 month old teething son finally fall asleep in his car seat, only to have to take him out 5 minutes later to walk around the grocery store picking out fruit. At first he was still in that half-asleep haze, but after a few minutes he was in full on I-want-to-touch-EVERYTHING mode. Though, it was glorious not to have to maneuver my way around 50 people in one isle while trying to steer my cart one handed because I have an infant in the other. I'll take an empty grocery store and a handsy infant over weaving my way through hundreds of people in high heels during a one hour lunch break any day.

After unloading the groceries and laying Broden down for a proper nap, I went to water our tomato plant. And look what I found! Our first little baby tomato! Now you're asking yourself: "Wait, she bought one more thing to take care of? She is insane!" Yes...I AM insane. On our trip to Home Depot this weekend to buy 1/3 of the concrete we needed to lay a slab for our dog kennel (mmhmm, measurements were wrong...twice. It took 3 trips to Home Depot on Saturday to get it right. And let's just say that it was not my job to measure.), I caved when I saw the pretty tomato plants sitting on the sidewalk. We picked up what we thought was a cherry tomato plant, but someone stuck this one in the wrong container. We didn't realize this was really a Lemon Boy until we brought it home. Oh well, they'll still be delicious!

Once our yet-to-be-named tomato plant was fed, I decided that since Broden was catching some z's I would clean out my sink drain. I hadn't been able to use my sink for about 3 days since it was taking a year for a cup of water to drain. Um...yes...it was revolting! I won't even go into full detail with this one because I'm trying to encourage people to read my blog, not unfollow it. I'll just simply say this: the majority of what was in that drain had to have been from the previous home owners, and not one drop of anything landed outside of that Care Bear garbage can. Heck yes! One step closer to landing my dream career...as a plummer.

Real quick, I would just like mention that I believe Angel has an internal clock that triggers her barking. I put both the dogs out back around 5:30 every morning, weekdays and weekends. And no, weekdays are no different than weekends for her I have come to find out. At around 7:30 every morning is when the barking commences, and it's all her. And...SHE DOESN'T STOP! Maybe for about 10 minutes here or there, but not long enough to enjoy a barkless nap if I had the time. This is when I love Smalls the most.

Anyways, back to my first day of corporate freedom: I dropped Broden off with my dad after lunch and went to spend a gift certificate that I received for Christmas. I had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to use it, and I thought I had picked a darn good time. If you haven't guessed already, my gift certificate was for a one-hour massage. I had been to this place once before and thought it was decent, but the guy that worked on me this time (haha, that could sound so wrong) wasn't worth the gift certificate. I mean, I'm not even sore today. After a good massage, you're supposed to be miserably sore the next day! The only thing I have today is a headache, and I'm pretty sure the credit belongs to the dogs for that one.

Once I was out of there I headed on over to Serenity Salon for my hair appointment. I was secretly afraid that my super pregnant hair dresser was going to burst before my appointment, but thankfully her little stud muffin decided to be nice and hold off a while longer. I just want to tell you how much admiration I have for pregnant woman everywhere who spend their entire days on their feet until the day they pop. The determination they have to do their on-your-feet-all-day jobs until they absolutely can't is astounding. I would cry. And this where I admit how lucky I was to have a job that required me to sit at a desk all day with my feet propped up on my modem. Even though, when you're on the verge of exploding, nothing is ever really comfortable.

A little something to leave you guys with: my baby gate battle wound. I was attempting to step over the baby gate to hand the phone to Kyle with Broden on my hip. Well, I didn't left my back leg quite high enough and I went crashing down. My body so badly wanted to land flat on my stomach, but I was determined to make this nothing more than a mini roller coaster ride for Broden. I bent my right leg and took it all on the knee, bringing the gate down with me. What made this even worse? The fact that we had our neighbors over for dinner for the very first time, and now they will never trust me with their 2 year old daughter. Cool. I have now become the stupidly crazy mom who lives in the house with the dead lawn, very healthy weeds, and annoying dogs that you want to feed chicken wings to so they will FINALLY shut up.