Domestic Goddessing

Raising a Daughter

2012-01-22T21:43:00.000-06:00

Guy Delcambre's blog post, Saving a Little Girl, got me thinking tonight.

I have a little girl now; I think I'm still surprised about it. I was so sure my life would be full of a herd of little boys, and then she came along:

Oh my, how I adore this little sweet pea. When I hold her and think about this special mother-daughter relationship that I get to have with her, I am often reduced to tears. I want to tell her everyday how wonderful, lovely and amazing she is. I want her to know how much her Jesus loves her. I want her to be strong, confident and exactly who she was put on this earth to be. I want to shield her from all of the ugly this world hurls on females.

I know the wolves will come. They will lie to her, they will try to rob her confidence and steal her joy. I got a small glimpse of it when a well meaning friend hoped my healthy daughter would be "thin and beautiful" when she outgrew her fat rolls. I tried very hard not to kick my friend in the shins for such a ridiculous remark.

So I started making a plan:

I will not call myself fat. (Idea mooched from Sarah at Emerging Mummy)
I will not refer to the little dudes in her life as "boyfriends." (Seriously, why start that crap?)
I will encourage health; not skinny and airbrushed.
I will build her up.
Lastly, and most importantly, her father and I will stand between her and that pressure with our big Can o' Whoop Ass.

Because she's our girl.

Mooched Mommy Idea #15: The Mommy Hat

2012-01-18T21:30:00.031-06:00

As much as it pains me to admit it, my mommy-style is somewhat.....lacking. Yes, my friends, sometimes the effort and the glam is simply not there.

I recently discovered a way to jazz it up a bit when I ran into a college buddy and fellow domestic goddess at the park. She looked adorable as I was slumming it in my ponytail and Velveeta-on-my-sweatpants look. Her look was simple, really. She took a super-cute hat and paired it with the classic jeans and t-shirt. That's it- and she looked fab.

I immediately went to Ross and bought 3 hats.

It works! No matter what I'm wearing, a stylish hat and some red lipstick rocks the mom look even if my outfit is blah. Or splattered with baby goo.

My idea is so popular, even Angelina Jolie had to copy me:

This is what I look like now.

Of course.

Some ideas:

Tah-dah! (I apologize to my male readers for completely wasting your time with this post.)

Lilah Joy's Birth Story

2012-01-08T22:26:00.001-06:00

“Honey, take your time, cause I don’t mind, waitin’ on a woman.”

-Brad Paisley

We had been waiting for what seemed like an eternity for our little lady to arrive. My friends and family were afraid to text or call me anymore. My husband didn’t know which woman he was coming home to at night. I had tried every natural method to go into labor, and at the end gave up on it all, sat on the couch, cried and ate nachos.

I went to the point that my doctor and I weren’t comfortable waiting anymore, so an induction was scheduled. I cried for 3 days about it since I wanted an all-natural experience, but I wanted a safe arrival more so we arrived at the hospital, excited and scared, at 5:30 in the morning to start the induction. I curled my hair and everything.

I heard that Pitocin contractions were more intense, but I was convinced that I could power through it and, hopefully, deliver my daughter in a short amount of time. Seriously, I was already dilated to a 3 and my body had been labor-ready for almost 3 weeks, (my doctor had been telling me, “any second now!”) I was convinced that my body just needed a little push to get the party started.

The contractions started around 8:00. My wise and fabulous doula was there, coaching me through the pains. My husband, sister and mother took turns massaging me and encouraging me. At this point, I was still laughing and telling stories in between contractions. Natural birth? Bring it!

Then something started changing fast. I had less time in between contractions and they were at maximum intensity for way too long. I braced myself; I just knew I was in transition and I would get to push and finally meet our daughter. My doctor came in to check my progress, and I assumed she would tell me that I was dilated to a 10. I prided myself and my brave 3 hours of natural labor. Iwas ready for the great dilation news!

“You’re still a 3.” My doctor quietly said.

And I lost it. I mean, really lost it. Like, no emotional control. I had been in horrible pain that I thought was progressing my labor, but it turns out I was just in maximum pain and still at a 3. I now hated the number 3. And I gave up, right then and there.

“I WANT AN EPIDURAL! “

My husband and doula reminded me of my well-thought out natural birth plan while my loyal sister shot out of the room and yelled up and down the hall for the epidural fairy. My Mom and my doula coached me through the contractions from hell and my husband consulted with my OB. I tried to focus, but I was really trying to figure out how to rip out my IV’s and run for the door.

I continued to fall apart. I was biting the bed and yelling “MAMA!!”. (Cause when you hurt like that, only yo momma can make it better). My doula and my Mom got bossy, (I needed it), and I tried not to vomit as the contractions ripped through my body.

Anyone who came between me and an epidural at that point was my enemy.

30 agonizing minutes later- the elixir of life was coursing through my body. Apparently, it was just what I needed because I dilated from a 3 to a 10 in 2 short hours. My doctor walked in and said it was time. I remember saying, “I get to meet her now…I finally get to meet my daughter!”

My husband held my hand, my mother cried, my sister took pictures and my doula faithfully kept to the remainder of my tattered birth plan. 2 pushes later, Miss Lilah Joy finally, and I do mean finally, graced us with her arrival. When my son was born, I wept. When she was born, I laughed…and I couldn’t stop laughing. There was this perfect little lady in my arms. And yes, she was very much worth the wait.

The Things We Do for Love

2011-06-08T10:59:00.002-05:00

I had to confront one of my biggest fears today.

I signed my son up for swimming lessons this afternoon, and in the process, he saw the happy place that I have worked so hard to keep hidden.

The public pool.

Have I mentioned that we are currently living in the town I grew up in? Well, we are. And I didn't go to the public pool when I had the 16-year-old body to do it, and I certainly don't want to now.

But he does, and he stood at the fence with huge tears rolling down those big, brown eyes, and asked if we could please go swimming and could he wear his new Spiderman swimming suit? I looked at all of the tan, skinny cuties running around in bikinis who probably don't eat cheese fries as a food group, and I bought a pool pass. My baby wants to swim, and he doesn't care that mommy has Irish skin and waddles these days.

I've got 3 things going for me here:

1. I'm not on the prowl for a man, and my husband is aware that my legs are glowsticks and I'm somewhat large these days. He's responsible for the latter. So, seriously, who am I trying to impress?

2. I bought a hot pink hat. I can totally go to the public pool now that I have my hot pink hat.

3. I think I can get away with keeping the large, flowy cover-up on the whole time.

So off to Target I went to buy some sunscreen, a maternity bathing suit and a pool floatie. We are in business. I can go to the public pool. And, if I run into someone from high school, I'm gonna smile and toast to this season in life; the season that took me out of the insecurities of high school, and put me into my big 'ol bathing suit with my 3-year-old that makes me forget that I cared in the first place.

My Job is Entertaining....

2011-06-06T14:00:00.000-05:00

A few wedding observations thus far.....

-Don't hit on the wedding planner. It's a waste of time; we're working. And, in my case, married and 6 months pregnant. But, yes, I'm oddly flattered...

-The most overlooked place to meet women is a wedding. It is my observation that men group together and drink at weddings instead of dancing with the beautiful ladies that are in abundance. Put the beer down, pop a breath mint and ask one to dance.

-If you cannot dance, then march in place. I watched a guy march all evening on the dance floor. That's it- that's all the game he had. He was surrounded by lovely ladies all night. March on, brother.

-If you're married, dance with your wife. Chances are, she has on a new dress, new heels and quite possibly a spray tan. Show her off. It's also perfectly acceptable to cop a feel on the dance floor, too.

-Do not bring children to weddings. If you have to, (or it's a family wedding), then watch them. Keep them away from jumping on the cake, pulling down the lights, knocking over tables or wreaking havoc. No one thinks the little pumpkin is adorable when they are out-of-control....especially the wedding planners.

-If you are a lady, wear a slip if you're going to wear a dress. Stained glass in a chapel is unforgiving, and it will shine a light on your business. All of it.

-Go on Youtube and learn the line dances to "Cotton-Eyed Joe," "Copperhead Road," "Cupid Shuffle," The Cha-Cha," and, (if you're really ambitious), "Thriller." The DJ always plays these songs, and they are a BLAST to dance to!

-It's not necessary to ask for "just a tiny piece of cake." We know you'll be back for seconds, have a big chunk...it's a wedding!

-If you wear Spanx with your dress, be careful about twirling on the dance floor. The whole place will know you're wearing bright, white Spanx if you start spinning in a state of drunken happiness.

-If it is someone else's wedding, it is never an appropriate time to have a lengthy conversation about your wedding. If you're not the bride, no one cares. Really.

-Deodorant. It's important.

I freaking love my job, I really do.

The Real Weight Watchers

2011-06-01T23:47:00.000-05:00

I don't use my blog to rant.

Forgive me for breaking my own rule today.

When did it become okay to tell a pregnant woman personal opinions and observations about her weight? Was this acceptable at some point in history? Is this one of those things that has gone to the wayside with a more politically correct society, yet some older folks still think it's okay to say any damn thing that comes to their mind when they see a pregnant woman?

In the past month, in no particular order, these comments have been directed towards me:

-Don't worry, you look good fat.
-You're more HUGE every day!
-You've really spread out with this pregnancy.
-Hey, FATSO!

Awesome. But not really.

I present the only acceptable things to say to a woman that is already feeling insecure about her growing body:

-You look stunning!
-You need to eat, can I buy you some icecream?
-You are radiant- you glow!
-How lucky is this baby?!

I am confident that those comments will prevent a preggo from bursting into tears and having a meltdown upon looking in the mirror.

Thank you. I am done. I am off to reclaim some of my dignity and get over myself.

The end.

The Wedding Day Conspiracy

2011-05-31T22:13:00.000-05:00

I went to a beautiful wedding this weekend. Such a lovely bride, such a stunning dress....such a tiny waist.

I started to think....what happened to my waist since my wedding day? See the evidence below:

Tiny waist. I can breathe and everything in that dress. Slender arms, no hint of chin fat. I didn't even have to say, "Let me know when you're about to take this picture so I can suck in!"

Something happened. I can't explain it. But, it's something dark and sinister. Maybe it has to do with being happy in life. Maybe it's getting older. Maybe it's eating McDonald's when I'm pregnant instead of salad.

I saw this picture of myself today...and I wept:

2 chins. Sausage arms. Dolly Parton bust. Big 'ol baby belly. Sigh.

Better not tell this weekend's bride about this evil, unstoppable force.

Mommyhood: Take 2

2011-05-22T08:11:00.000-05:00

It's pure excitement to have a second baby. With my first, it was 50% excitement, 50% terror. This time around, though, I'm just not scared anymore. I don't plan on drowning in insecurities and 37 baby books that all say different things.

I've been pondering what I want to do differently this time around and, true to form, I made a Top-Ten list:

What I wish I would Have Done the First Time...

1. I will not live in fear that I don't know what's best for my baby. And I won't be afraid to tell a well-meaning relative/friend/stranger, "Thank you for your advice, but I'm her Momma."

2. I will not ruin my life and my daughter's life by trying to put her on a stringent schedule right away. I'm going to get to know her, enjoy the chaos and hold her as much as I can.

3. I won't debate my position on vaccines anymore. I've done the research, I've talked to doctors and we feel this is best for our babies.

4. I'm going to buy the most comfortable rocking chair known to man. Lord knows I'm going to be in it enough to make it worth the bucks. My best bud spent hundreds on hers, (I thought that was silly), but her back and hiney were much happier than mine, I'm sure.

5. I'm going to "wear" my baby this time. I wish I would have bought the sling with my first- he just loved being close to me all the time and carrying him everywhere was hard on my back.

6. I'm going to, (gulp!), stop eating dairy after the baby is born. My first-born would have had a MUCH happier belly if I had done that for him.

7. I will complain about not eating dairy and I will give you the evil eye if you eat ice cream in front of me.

8. I will have my Mom and Sis in the delivery room. Everything went wrong the first time, and I had never felt so alone. (Yes, my husband was there, but he stayed with our son when the nurse had to take him away.)

9. I will buy a nice, soft robe for my hospital stay. One that will keep all my chubby bits hidden when I have visitors.

10. I will ENJOY her...I will drink her in...I won't rush...I won't give myself a beating everytime I don't have my "to-do" list checked off...I will cherish this time.

The end.

It's a What??! Huh? How Did THAT happen?

2011-05-20T04:15:00.030-05:00

I'll never be that Momma that can wait till the baby's born to find out if I have a son or daughter. Nope, I feel that 5 months is long enough to wait.

So, off to the sonographer I went. I thought it was a waste of time, really. I knew I was having a boy as my pregnancies were identical, I have rock-solid mothering instincts, (insert: sarcasm), and I had already made a bet with my sister that it was a boy. (My bets with my sister are brutal and humiliating).

Imagine our surprise when Leslie, while intently studying the picture on the screen, said, "It's a girl."

My mouth dropped open. Me, who was to be the mother of a herd of boys, apparently had a daughter. Um, how did that happen? I know what to do with boys: buy play clothes and direct them to dirt. I've watched my girlfriends with their daughters, and it just looks harder with slightly more, um, drama.

But, oh my word, I'm so excited I can hardly stand it.

We have a daughter! I get to buy pink and frilly outfits! We can have tea parties and play dress-up! I can put gigantic bows in her hair! She won't get married and leave me!

So very many things to be thrilled about. I've already delegated sewing projects to my Mom and Mother-in-Law. This little princess shall be greeted in style: frills, ruffles, glitter and a nursery with fru-fru in every corner.

Cause I'm the mommy of a daugther now. It's how we roll.

Shame and McDonald's

2011-05-18T14:18:00.000-05:00

I've kind of fallen off the wagon.

Almost a year ago, I swore off any meat that was cheap and easy. I changed our grocery budget to accommodate healthy, organic meat and dairy. I ate fish when we went out, and I only ate vegetarian when I had to eat fast food.

You would think that I would be even more dilligent now that I am pregnant. (Yeah, me, too!!)

That is not the case.

I just ate 2 meals at McDonald's. I could not function until I had a cheeseburger, nuggets and fries. I am gross. I wouldn't let Cale have any...but yet I subjected my growing baby to this grease-fest. And then I had a Twix bar and a Nestle Crunch Bar.

I am hungry all the time. Like.... I. Can't. Get. Enough. Food. In. My. Belly.

I didn't have this problem with my first pregnancy. I don't know what to do. Don't tell me to stop, or I will cry and tell you not to judge me. I will tell you that I'll go on Weight Watchers in October. I will tell you that I deserve this since I puked my guts out the first 4 months.

But don't take away my nuggets. I couldn't take it.

Ode to Mummy

2011-05-04T08:06:00.026-05:00

My Mom and I have a strange relationship. I did not realize this until my boyfriend, now husband, told me once, "I can't believe how you and your Mom talk to each other. I mean, you say ANYTHING!" He was mortified; I thought it was normal.

We had a fairly typical mother/daughter relationship during my childhood. She was the queen bee, she could control my behavior with "the eye", she never tolerated disrespect, she was the first one I ran to when I was hurting, she preached that all boys had cooties, she was more concerned about being my mother than being my friend, she monitored my make-up, she intervened when I tried to stuff my bra with cotton balls....you know....the usual mom stuff.

The big switch happened, however, once I was an adult. She became much more fun. We'd go dancing, shopping, road tripping and churching...and never once did I get "the eye." She went from parent to friend, and I've never had such a blast.

When I became a mommy, I needed her like never before. I couldn't function unless she was in the next room. I couldn't even give my baby a bath without going into a panic. I fell apart, and she put me back together and became my biggest cheerleader.

Now, as I'm settling into motherhood and she is living in the fun and freedom of grannyhood, I have to laugh at the irony of the latest transition. I told her today to watch her mouth. I take her with me to the grocery store because I think she eats out too much. I stay at home with my kiddo while she traipses off to Florida, Hawaii and Europe. Total role reversal.

The one thing that has stayed constant is that we still say anything to each other. While I was looking at a ring in the jewelry department today, she very seriously informed the saleslady that I needed to buy a ring because I was pregnant and no one would marry me.

Not so typical, but one hell of an amazing Mom.

On God and Jello

2011-04-14T09:31:00.002-05:00

The most important part of our weekly grocery trip is when my son gets to choose his Jello color. It is a very important decision, my dear readers. He wakes up talking about it, "Mommy, today I'm gonna get BLUE Jello! Or maybe YEWWWOW!"

We discuss this vital choice on the car trip there, carefully weighing cherry Jello against orange Jello. When we finally get to the beautiful Jello display, I allow him to stand up in the cart so he can make a fully informed decision. He'll choose, and then change his mind. He'll put his hand up to his chin in deep comtemplation. He'll freak out a litte, "RED! NO-WAIT PURPLE! NO STRAWBERRY!" and he'll do this until I tell him he has one more minute to decide. He'll scrunch up his face in great concentration, and make his choice.

I had a revelation as I watched him pour over this decision: Is this what my life decisions look like to God? You know, the choices I agonize over on a daily basis? Does God chuckle when I lose sleep over those decisions that seem so HUGE to me, but that actually won't, you know, make the world stop spinning? That maybe I take myself a little too seriously sometimes and all it is is a stinkin' Jello decision? I kind of think I've been schooled by my 3-year-old yet again.

And I further proved it to myself as I stressed about our house: Do we drop the price? Do we lease it? Will I live with my Dad forever?? As I went a little nuts, I felt a chuckle in my heart and heard, "Blue Jello or Purple Jello?"

My Fairytale

2011-04-12T08:25:00.012-05:00

It's my husband's birthday on Sunday and I want to blog about him in lieu of my annual naughty birthday card. (He buys the most beautiful, sentimental cards for me and I can't seem to stay away from the cards that shock him. I figure it's okay because I'm having his second baby and all.)

I'm pretty sure I fell in love with this man the first time I saw him in boots and a cowboy hat. Of course, it might have been when he watched me wolf down an entire burger and fries at I-Hop and it didn't phase him. There was also the time he wrote out a Psalm in calligraphy for me when he found out I played the guitar, (he thought the 3 chords I knew were sexy.) Actually, it was probably when he told me that he was not interested in being my friend- he was interested in being my man, and I needed to knock off the games. Yep, that was probably it. We've been butting heads and making out ever since.

It's not always a fairytale. With 2 first-borns trying to navigate marriage, there are clashes. Marriage isn't really easy for us; we work at it. We take our unhappy hinies to marriage counseling when nothing else is working. And we sit, side-by-side, and work harder. We eat our pride. We say "I'm sorry." Our fairytale probably looks different, but I see it everywhere:

I see it when he fathers our son...I see it when he talks to my growing belly and tells him/her about the many Daddy adventures they will have together...I see it when he makes Hamburger Helper for all of us when I can't muster the energy to get off the couch...I see it when he tells me I'm a great Mommy when I feel like I suck...I see it when he gets more angry than I do when a client or vendor is rude to me....I see it when he thanks me for doing household chores...I see it when he lets me sleep in on Saturday morning and then brings me donuts and coffee...I see it when he prays over our family...I see it when he writes me love letters and leaves them for me to find at work... And I think I actually swooned the day he cleaned up my puke bucket after a rough night of "morning" sickness. I mean, that's a lot of love, my friends.

At the end of the day, everyday, he comes home to me. Night after night, I'm in his arms. He tells my make-upless- death breath- sleeping in an old t-shirt- self every morning that I'm beautiful. Then, he goes off to work so thatI can live out my dream of stay-at-home mommying. He also comes home early when said dream feels like a nightmare and I need alone time and a tub of icecream.

That's the stuff real fairytales are made of, I think. And I am thankful.

Happy birthday, my love.

PregoFit: Week One (I am Sore)

2011-04-11T08:11:00.002-05:00

As I downed my second bowl of Lucky Charms last week, I had a revelation that I needed to take better care of myself and my little cupcake, (what I am calling the baby.) I went from only being able to hold down baked potatoes and crackers in my first trimester to the blessed 4th month where I ate everything in sight.

I could use a little balance.

So, I ordered PregoFit, a total body work-out for each month of pregnancy, and did my very first workout since my 7th week. I'm not gonna lie, I'm soft and jiggly right now and it was painful. However, after trying out several wimpy pregnancy work-outs with my first pregnancy, (sitting on a chair, breathing and stretching didn't really do anything...), I was pleasantly surprised to get my butt kicked by Kristin. She's not afraid to actually, you know, WORK OUT while pregnant. She modifies each work-out to the specific month you're in while inflicting a little pain and smiling the whole time.

I was not able to smile the whole time, though.

I did, however, feel I was getting a great work-out. My muscles are sore and I'm excited to find an exercise program that will keep me strong during my pregnancy and after.

Look out, Gisele Bundchen, I just might put you to shame....

My Everest

2011-04-06T21:55:00.000-05:00

Ever see the "Friends" episode where Joey tries to eat an entire Thanksgiving turkey by himself? He looks at the bird, sighs and proclaims, "YOU ARE MY EVEREST!"

Potty training is MY Everest.

I tried last summer when all of my mommy friends, (who ALL have girls), successfully potty trained their princesses in , like, an hour. After cleaning poo off the carpet for the 5th day in a row, I declared that he could wear diapers for the rest of his life for all I cared. And I put the training pants away and waited until I saw some "signs of readiness."

Dude, here's the big secret: a boy will never show a sign of readiness because having to go to the bathroom interrupts his playing time and it's easier if he can just doodie in the diaper and keep on playing. And, when it is convenient for him, mommy can clean him up.

I've been duped by a 3-year-old.

Mr. Diaper Lover insists that he needs diapers, no matter how many pairs of cool underwear I buy for him, (Buzz Lightyear, pirates, trains.....) We told him that the diapers are going in the trash this weekend. He cried. He yelled. He wanted to put in an emergency call to Granny. Too bad for him that we are ALL tired of changing nasty diapers.

Saturday is D-Day for him. My husband and I are devoting the entire day to the "Progressive Potty Training Method." Basically, all we do for a day or two is potty train and reinforce it. I have all of the necessary items. I am determined to be positive and pleasant. I am ready and motivated.

Please pray that I do not lose my christianity on Saturday.

Amen.

On Men and Meat

2011-03-30T22:42:00.001-05:00

What is it with men and steak? All I did was buy a few steaks on sale. I asked Team Estrogen, (mom and sis), for advice and they voted that my steaks were fine for grilling.

Tonight, when I innocently asked my Dad to grill them while I finished the baked potatoes, there was a long silence and I think I actually heard his heart break when he looked at my shameful steak selection.

Apparently, they were sandwich steaks. And puny enough to cook in 5 minutes. And too unmanly to eat.

I asked him to grill them anyway; I was positive that they would taste fabulous with the right seasoning. Naturally, the first thing my husband said when he walked through the door was, "these steaks....these steaks are so thin! Why did you buy these?!" And then I think he wondered why he married me. And then he tore his clothes and sat in ashes.

And bless Dad's heart, he went into daddy-mode. He came upstairs with 4 articles about steak from his personal food library. Then he read them to me. And then he showed me a diagram of a cow and where each cut of meat comes from. To top off my education, we are apparently going to the local butcher for a final lesson.

Because no daughter of his will ever bring home a $3 steak if he has anything to say about it.

Green Acres

2011-03-29T22:38:00.000-05:00

So, I've been living in the country for 3 months, (with foxes, bobcats, rats in the tractor, mice in the field, snakes in the pond and the random aroma of cow poo.)

We moved in with my Dad at Green Acres when my husband got a job that required him to start in 2 days in Oklahoma City. I stayed behind for a month to get the house ready to sell, drank a lot of wine after full days of single parenting and began to grieve the loss of our amazing community in Tulsa. Although I was thrilled to be with my family again, losing my kick ass group of mommy friends was bumming me hard.

So I did the rational thing with our brand new health insurance and got pregnant. You know, cause I had some free time and all.

After Christmas, Cale and I left Tulsa and then managed to stay sick for about 2 months solid. Not awesome, but wedding season was over so we were able to recoop while watching cable and crying together about missing our "old house." You never saw a more pathetic pair.

Just like that, winter is over and now it's spring. My first trimester is complete and I am working hard to gain back the 17 pounds I lost. Cale has adjusted and decided he loves the country, (and needs a dog.) I get to see my husband doing something he loves. My son has his Grandad...and there have been many manly adventures. And the miracle that I didn't think would happen a second time for me did, indeed, happen. I'm going to have another baby.

Happy Spring.

A Boy's First Groupie

2011-03-28T20:50:00.000-05:00

There's a reason some boys never move on from being a "rock star." Think about it: the teen female audience is the most fiercly loyal and enthusiastic you will ever get. And most boy bands, (I'm looking at you New Kids on the Block, Hanson and Backstreet Boys...and I am still trying to get tickets for the Dallas concert), are unable to move on after such devotion. Bless their hearts. It's sad, really. Wait a minute....maybe it starts before the screaming girls. With a much more loyal and crazed female.

And yet another star has been born.....

Mooched Mommy Idea #14

2010-12-07T10:35:00.004-06:00

Toddlers and food will inspire even the strongest mother to break into the liquor cabinet.

Getting our little blessings to eat is hard. Getting them to eat healthy is a whole different level of hard. I hear, and say, these things all the time:

"All he'll eat is chicken nuggets."

"All he wants is ranch dressing and cookies."

"He needs CALORIES!"

"He'll eat once I bribe him!"

"Why does he love something one day and hate it the next?"

"It's so discouraging to cook 3 meals a day and all he wants is peanut butter."

When my son is particularly difficult, I like to fantasize about the day when he will be old enough to cook a meal, in which I will spit out said meal and say, "I DON'T WIIIIIIKE IT!!!" And then I will request fruit snacks and jelly beans for dinner.

It helps me cope.

My mommy friend, Carolyn, discovered that her toddler ate better when she could walk and eat. I've been trying it, and it works! There has been less pleading and frustration on our part, and he eats better. We still have our basic dinner rules:

1. No yelling, fits or spitting at the table.
2. No treats if dinner is not eaten.
3. I will only make him a special meal if what I cooked is too spicy or ethnic.

Other than that, I'm open to suggestions. I'll try every one. And, so far, the "walking around and eating plan" seems to be working. I'll care about the importance of eating at the dinner table another day.

Suprisingly, getting him to eat cheesecake is not a challenge....

Catch-Up

2010-12-05T22:18:00.005-06:00

Well, howdy! I've been a bad blogger. Very, very bad blogger. Wedding season and campaign season collided at the same time...and I think we're still recovering.

To add to it, we decided to enroll in Dave Ramsey classes, sell our house, move to Oklahoma City, change jobs and, um....move in with my DAD. You know, cause it's cool to move in with your Dad when you're 32. Clearly.

I think it's going to be fun, though. And, since we're married and all, maybe my Dad won't make my husband leave the house by 11. I hope.

Anywhoo, it's just until our house sells or one of us goes crazy.

This is a pictorial representation of my feelings about all of the changes:

You're welcome.

Mooched Mommy Idea #13

2010-11-01T22:12:00.003-05:00

I can't explain how much this impacted me, so I'll just have to copy and paste. This Mooched Idea comes from Donald Miller:

Children Don't Learn They Matter From the Bible. They Learn it From You.

Conversations with a Toddler

2010-09-29T08:31:00.001-05:00

Scene: Toddler looks forlornely at his plate of spaghetti as if it is Mount Everest and we just told him to climb without oxygen.

Him: All done! (Insert: Big, sweet smile.)

Us: Okay, but no snacks, no cupcake and no jelly beans.

Him: No cupcake? No snacks? No beans?

Us: No. If you don't eat your dinner, there are no treats. And we might eat a cupcake in front of you. (Don't judge us, we hate the "eat your dinner fight" and have learned to have some fun with it.)

Him: I hold a cupcake?

Well played, little stinker. But, no. We're onto your game....

Motivation

2010-09-27T21:08:00.003-05:00

I did a photo shoot a few days ago and I was not happy with the status of my arm jiggle. The photographer sweetly told me, "If you put your hand on your hip, it will pop your tricep out and it will look better."

My hand is on my hip in every picture.

I decided it was time to get myself back into a regular workout routine. My workout routine always seems to falter during wedding season. In addition to that, my husband's schedule hasn't been sane since he entered a political career. So, I'm back to doing yoga once a week and calling it good.

That was, until I saw my arm jiggle.

I marched into my room, got $50 out of my unmentionables drawer and gave it to my husband. "If I don't work out 4 days a week for a month, go spend this."

It worked. I want my $50 back and I don't want him to spend it on something annoying like an Aggies jersey. I got a week reprive due to sickness, but I'm hitting it hard again tomorrow. Me and my personal trainer, of course:

Mooched Mommy Idea #12

2010-09-20T08:44:00.002-05:00

This concept comes from the Mother of all wisdom....my very own mother. Ever since I became a Mommy, I have the urge to call her everyday and apologize for taking her for granted, being a drama queen and my phase of thinking I was smarter.

If you have ever spent time with me and my sister, you've probably heard my Mom's discipline stories; she was famous for her creativity. Her philosophy, which is the subject of my mooching today, was "make it harder on them than it is on you." Essentially, make discipline swift and strong; making the consequences harder on the child than on the parent.

Allow me some examples:

-In 6th grade, she made me mad at the busstop. In a show of great indepenence, I slammed the door on her and stomped on the bus. Little did I know she got out of the car, (not at maximum cuteness, I might add), and followed me on the bus. The bus went silent. "You go shut the door correctly young lady." I did as she requested, and never slammed another door on her again. I still have nightmares about the silent bus.

-When my sis was in 5th grade, she kept "forgetting" to do her portion of the dishes. Mom's solution? Amy had to carry clean dishes in a sack all evening...even when she went to the neighbor's house to play. Mom even called the neighbor to ensure that my sis was carrying her dishes. Amy never forgot her dishes again.

-She told us that if we ever cut class in high school, she would escort us to all of our classes the next day. We were smart enough never to test her.

-If we were disrespectful or rudely disobedient, she would wake us up 30 minutes early to write sentences. Mom's sentences were a paragraph each. If we were really bad, she would throw in a loooooong scripture.

-If all else failed, we had to pull weeds. In the hot, Oklahoma heat. During morning cartoons. That fixed our attitude faster than anything.

She became so much cooler once we were adults...

Scenes from a Marriage III

2010-09-09T08:39:00.000-05:00

Setting: Cheesecake Factory

Me: I want to look at the cheesecake menu and decide what I want.

Him: Aren't we sharing?

Me: Why can't I have my own?

Him: You can, but they're really big.

Me: Why won't you buy me a cheesecake? Do I not deserve my own?

Him: Whaaa??

Me: You think I'm fat, don't you?

Him: I'm done talking.

Preschool and My Poor, Broken Heart

2010-09-08T08:32:00.003-05:00

My baby started preschool today.

When did this guy become ready for freaking preschool:

I spent the morning carefully packing his school lunch, nap mat, blankie and bag. I spent more time obsessing about how he would handle it. Would he cry for me? Would he adjust well? Would he make friends? Is he ready for this? What if someone tries to sell him drugs? Why am I a freak?

You know, the usual questions.

Like so many mommies before me, I cried when I left him in his class. I went straight to Wal-Mart and bought him a fancy lunch sack with a football on it. Cause apparently that's important and he didn't have one.

I spent my 5 hours alone catching up on housework, working on weddings, obsessively checking my phone and calling my Mom to obsess a little more. Then it hit me, I have no idea what to do with myself.

Perhaps I should work on that.

5 hours later, I was the first Mom there to pick up their kid. I wasn't even embarrassed. With much apprehension, I walked to his room and held out my arms. He ran to me, jumped in my arms and declared, "PWEEschool is fun!"

And then we went for icecream to celebrate that we both survived.

Mooched Mommy Idea #11

2010-09-07T08:50:00.003-05:00

This one comes from my parenting guru: Aunt Molly. Seriously, go hang with any of her 4 kids and you will know how awesome she is. I'm currently trying to steal one of them, hire the other, and have to wait for the other 2 to graduate before I have all 4 in Tulsa. (insert: evil laugh)

Anywhoo, one of the things that she told me that stuck was: say "yes" as much as you can, and they will include you in their plans. If you say "no" all of the time, they do it anyway behind your back.

I catch myself saying "NO!" all day. It is becoming an act of will to say "yes" more than I say "no." If I'm being totally honest, I usually tell him "no" because it's more convenient for me. Saying "yes" means that there will probably be a bigger mess, more noise and a big chance for embarrassment.

So, here's to saying and enthusiastic "YES!" to big freaking messes and not wincing when he eventually pulls my couch cushions and mattresses out on the lawn to jump off the roof.

*I need to ask Aunt Molly if she had a secret margarita machine to get through parenthood.

Permanent

2010-09-05T19:53:00.004-05:00

Why didn't someone tell me that tattoos are really permanent? (Besides my mother, who fell to her knees and wept when she realized that I did, in fact, go with my boyfriend to the tattoo parlor and get inked.)

I still feel really bad about that.

A 20-year-old has no concept of "never coming off." At that age, I knew everything and nothing at all; a dangerous thing. I thought the lily, and later the butterfly, were awesome and indicative of where I was in life. So deep and meaningful, I'm sure.

And now the darn things won't come off.

My wedding day, a formal dinner, a trip to the beach....anytime I show my feet or shoulders, there they are. Mocking me.

I've been too chicken to have them removed, I hear it is more painful than childbirth; I barely made it out of that.

I changed my mind after the precious girls in my Sunday School class all insisted I give them "butterfly tattoos like Miss Sara!" All 6 of them went home from Sunday School that day with a Moses color sheet and a purple butterfly and a stern warning from Miss Sara that only silly girls get real tattoos.

This silly girl knows from personal experience.

Mooched Mommy Idea #10

2010-09-02T07:57:00.001-05:00

This mooched mommy idea comes from my good friend, Brad Pitt.

One evening, while we were all hanging out at my house, we started swapping parenting advice. Also, Angelina had an action movie coming up and she wanted some of my personal training tips.

Or, I was reading People magazine. Whatever. Anyway, he said that his best parenting advice is to give his kids a 5 minute warning when it's time to clean-up, switch activities or go somewhere. It struck me as good advice at the time, so I filed it away.

Recently, I've had to pull it out of the file as my little pumpkin poo doesn't like to switch gears as fast as I need him to. It usually looks like this:

Me: Let's go!

Him: NOOOOOOOOOO! NO GO MOMMY!

Me: Let's go, now!

Him: (Closes his eyes so that he can't see me or throws himself on the floor in a great protest.)

Now, thanks to my friend Brad, I know to give him a 5 minute warning so that he can start winding down. It works. He knows his activity is coming to an end, and he'll be moving on soon.

I need to have Brad and Angelina over more often.

Business Partners and Sisters

2010-08-25T08:20:00.001-05:00

The question I get most often about working with my sister is this: "Do ya'll fight?"

The answer: Of course.

Fighting isn't something we do a lot, but it sometimes happens. It doesn't get ugly, we don't hit below the belt and we don't go the ever-popular passive aggressive route. But, yes, we disagree. We hurt each other's feelings. We let each other down. We also periodically need to call and tattle to our mother.

At the end of the day, though, she and I just work. Her strengths are my weaknesses and vice versa. She's assertive, I'm a peace-maker. She's artistic, I'm practical. She makes a wedding into a fairytale, I sell it.

She does this:

I do this:

Because we can't both be lining out a guest and hiding in the kitchen...

Celebrity Nurseries

2010-08-24T09:05:00.003-05:00

Laughing at celebrity moms is my guilty pleasure. New-mommy cluelessness and lots of money have humorous results; especially when they design a nursery.

Allow me to introduce one such celebrity baby nursery:

Let's be clear that this room has never actually housed a real baby yet. When it does, the inevitable will occur:

1. A diaper will leak poo on that lovely, plush rug. It will always look a little yellow.
2. Cutesy knick-nacks will be shoved up a nose or worse, put down their pants for safekeeping.
3. Don't let them actually sit on that chair. Dirty hinies have no respect!
4. Hello sparkling windows, allow me to introduce peanut butter. With a booger or two thrown in.
5. That footstool is perfect for trying to reach the shiny chandelier for a good swing. Or giving it a good try, anyway.

Maybe I'm just bitter that I couldn't afford and all-white designer nursery for this little guy:

Then again, maybe that was for the best.

Bliss

2010-08-22T21:11:00.004-05:00

Repeat 50 times. Then eat cake.

Pure bliss.

The Great Manipulation

2010-08-13T10:13:00.001-05:00

This is so very true:

I am drunk with power. Allow me an example:

Scene: Two Grandmas, (A Grammie and a Granny, to be exact), were in town on a very busy schedule. I happened to have both of their grandbabies. Those grandbabies had worn me out and I needed a break.

I sent this text:

"I guess I'll tell them their Grandma's don't love them."

30 minutes later, this happened:

*They came by to let me know that they cannot, in fact, be manipulated.

Scenes from a Marriage II

2010-08-11T21:58:00.003-05:00

Do you ever have a dream that seems so real, you wake up believing it?

Me: Why won't you marry me?

Him: I did marry you. 5 years ago.

Me: I'm not going to just wait around. I have options. I'm not going to be your lifetime girlfriend.

Him: You have a ring and everything.

Me: You think you can just have all the benefits of marriage without the commitment? You've got another think coming, mister.

Him: We have a son together. You have my last name.

Me: Oh yeah. What a weird dream. Will you make me some coffee?

Him: Am I still in trouble?

Momisms II

2010-08-10T07:51:00.000-05:00

And so my tradition continues. I never know what's going to come out of my mouth on any given day with a toddler...

"You have your own food. Mine does not taste any better than yours. "

"Don't eat Daddy's Bible."

"Don't touch anyone's privates but your own." (This also handy advice for teenagers/college students.)

"Popsicles are not for breakfast, lunch or dinner."

"Just sitting on the potty and smiling does not earn you a chocolate chip."
*Chocolate chips are my potty-training prize*

"You are not invited to date night."

"Sunday school is not a punishment."

"You do not need to watch your friends poop."

"Get my sunglasses out of the ranch dressing!"

"If you kick me one more time, Grandaddy cannot save you."
*At this point, I give my Dad the stink eye to enforce my threat as he likes to rush in and sing HERE I COME TO SAVE THE DAY! when his grandbaby is being punished.

Breaking the Code

2010-08-07T07:55:00.001-05:00

My husband recently decided to go through his cards and letters from the past 20 years. He was a good sport and let me read all of the ones from old girlfriends, girls he was chasing and girls that were chasing him. As I read them, it became incredibly clear to me that my husband was quite popular with the ladies, and the poor guy had no idea. He just couldn't translate the Christian-girl language.

Since I am well-versed in Bible college language, I humbly offer my translations, (some of these came from the cards, and some of it just came from my experiences.)I am mortified to admit that I said many of the following things myself:

I hope we get to know each other better.
Translation: Ask me out, moron.

You are such a blessing to me.
Translation: Please keep doing nice things for me, but don't expect me to go out with you.

I can't imagine my life without you.
Translation: I want a ring by spring. A big one.

If we're still single in our thirties, we should marry each other.
Translation: You're great, but I need to see if someone better comes along first.

I'm your sister in Christ.
Translation: You have no chance of ever seeing me naked.

I just really want to date Jesus right now.
Translation: I don't want to date you. But, if someone hotter comes along, I might stop dating Jesus for him.

I hope this helps you sweet ORU/SAGU/Evangel students out there.

My Legacy

2010-08-05T07:58:00.000-05:00

There is absolutely no denying that I have a fondness for words that I shouldn't. I have managed to offend several people I love, was trying to impress or should have been trying to impress. I have honestly been trying like never before to say "shoot" or "darn" or "bummer" in lieu of the word I actually want to say. First of all, it's just tacky to talk that way. Second, I have a toddler that repeats my words.

So, I've been trying. Please keep that in mind.

Scene: Playing cards with my Mommy friends.

Her: My daughter said something the other day, I think she got it from you.

Me: Oh, really?

I ran through all of my most-used saying:

-Super Duper!
-I want both of you to be sweet to each other!
-Tattling hurts my ears.
- You can get glad in the same shoes you got mad.
-Cool Beans!
-Run like the wind!

* I was hoping it was something cute and sweet......

Her: Yeah, she was frustrated about something and said, "Oh, CRAP!"

Oh, cr.........bummer.

For the Love of Boobies

2010-08-03T09:10:00.005-05:00

In honor of World Breastfeeding Week, allow me to share my favorite breastfeeding story:

Me and the little guy took our first plane ride together when he was 9 months old. I wanted to visit my bestie in Florida and I thought I could manage it since nursing always made him very zen and he looooved his milk. My plan was to latch him on, hooter hider in place, and let him nurse the entire plane ride. I thought that would make life pleasant for everyone.

I was mortified when a very large, very cowboyish/manly man plopped in the seat next to me. I was freaking out that he might see something. The truth is, I will never be that woman that can whip out a boob and feed my baby. I had all of the special items required to keep myself and my business well hidden. I decided to warn my fellow traveler.

"I'm going to nurse my baby the entire plane ride. I hope that you are comfortable with that," I said simply.

He grinned, gave me a pat on the back and replied, "Well, young lady, I've been married and I've seen all that. It all looks the same so don't you worry about me."

Well, then. Good to know.

*The only picture I have of myself nursing. I nursed for 1 freaking year and this is all I have to show for it. Best part is that my Dad took this picture after ensuring everything was "covered up." lol

My mommy friend, Sarah, was a huge inspiration and support to me while I nursed. Here are some of her breastfeeding blogs.

Mooched Mommy Idea #9

2010-08-02T06:49:00.000-05:00

My son has learned the word, "popsicle." He requests them for breakfast, lunch, dinner and at snack time. Recently, when his baby cousin tried to mooch a lick, he put it on his head to get it out of her reach. Dude means business about his daily treat.

I hate giving him all of that sugar and corn syrup, and have mooched these ideas from fellow mommies:

1. Applesauce popsicles. Just freeze no-sugar applesauce in popsicle molds. Voila!
2. Fruit Chillers. You can find them in the canned fruit section of the grocery store. They are mainly fruit juices with a little sugar added.
3. Frozen grapes, blueberries or bananas. All of these fruits freeze really well, and are quite tasty.

I am currently also looking for healthy alternatives to ice cream, cake and cookies. Not having much luck yet.....

Summer School

2010-07-29T08:23:00.002-05:00

Summer has been a busy time for my busy boy. He's had his very own summer school. In fact, it has inspired him to request a toolbox. I pretend I don't understand him.

His summer training:

Auto Mechanics

*Fixing my Jeep with Grandaddy. I was just hoping he wouldn't puncture anything important.

Home Interior

*Painting the trim with Daddy. I'm not sure who was wearing more paint after this project.

Home Ec

*Making nummies with GG. She would put in the ingredients, and he would take out the chocolate chips for a quality check.

Cosmetology

*Giving his cousin a nice pedicure. Oh wait, this doesn't look right. The Manliness Police will be after me for sure this time. Crap.

Guest Blogger

2010-07-27T08:43:00.001-05:00

I don't normally host guest bloggers, but my 2-year-old son insisted that he share his thoughts about his Daddy.

So, a BIG welcome to Cale and his post:

Why My Daddy is the Greatest!

by Cale

When I pee in the potty, you act like it's the most exciting news you've ever heard in your life.

When you grill, I get to wear an apron and hold the tongs. I feel very manly.

You put your aftershave on my cheeks and we both make Mommy smell us.

You swim with me in my kiddie pool, even though I probably peed in it.

You teach me to say, "thank you, Mommy, for cooking for us" at every meal. That's going to make me a fantastic husband someday...if Mommy ever lets me date.

You take me on adventures at the park, museum, zoo, Chick-Fil-A, the pool, Incredible Pizza, the ranch and the backyard.

You sneak yummy treats to me when Mommy is not looking.

You wrestle with me and never get upset that I always win. My muscles are very big, you know. And, you don't freak out too much when our wrestling gets out of hand and I accidentally kick you in the.....area.....

You clean me, the sheets, the bed and the carpet when I throw-up. And you have no help because Mommy is gagging in the other room.

You read to me everyday, and even do the special voices.

When you come home after a long day, you play with me all evening and fill my little tank with Daddy love.

You're the greatest. I WUV you!

In a Snit

2010-07-20T10:00:00.004-05:00

I'm not judging, I used to be this girl. But, I get it now. Oh, how I get it.....

An Open Letter to Grooms

2010-07-14T07:01:00.002-05:00

I gotta get this out. I meet with brides and grooms almost every weekend to talk about their wedding plans; and I see too much of the Completely-Bummed-Out-Groom. I totally understand that planning a wedding is more for the girls...but we need to talk.....

Dear Groomies,

You can summon a decent amount of enthusiasm to display for your bride as she talks about her wedding day. Slumping in your chair and staring at the ground is better left for the pouting toddlers when they don't get their way. Also, it is never advisable to blurt out, "I don't even want to do this." If you don't want to get married, grow a pair and break up with her; don't propose.

By supporting your bride through this process, you are showing that you will make a wonderful husband. Marriage involves being excited about your spouse's interests. And, here's an inside tip: she'll remember this on the honeymoon, dude.

Here are some appropriate responses to help you through this process:

1. Honey, I just want to marry you. Whatever you plan is great!
2. You're so beautiful I won't notice anything else.
3. All I care about is that, at the end of the day, you'll be my wife. (Had a groom say this once; I melted.)

Here are some inappropriate discussion topics:

1. The flask you want to have in your tuxedo jacket.
2. Your longing to fly to Vegas and "get it over with."
3. The only thing you're excited about being the bachelor party.

You're welcome. Now man up, put on a happy face and let's talk centerpieces.

Respectfully,
Your Wedding Planner

Mooched Mommy Idea #8: The Tattle Problem

2010-07-12T08:24:00.003-05:00

Tattling has entered my life. Crap.

I spent two years as a fifth grade teacher dealing with the plight of the tattlers. With 30 plus students, someone was offended and done wrong at all times. It was exhausting. And I thought it was over once I took on full-time mommying.

Shows what I know.

The toddlers, (one is mine, one I have kept part-time since she was 2 months old), have taken to informing me of all things offensive:

"He bumped my head."

"She took my guitar!"

"He's looking at me poop!"

"She ate my macaroni!"

Obviously, I take physical and verbal harm seriously and those are swiftly disciplined. But, for the ridiculous tattles; I've tried reasoning, sassing and ignoring. I recently mooched this idea from a parenting magazine, and it has worked wonders and changed my life:

Simply say, "thank you for letting me know."

They feel heard, I don't have to play judge and jury, and they can go about their business with a short rebound time.

Until someone invades their private pooping time...and it starts all over again.

Me vs. The Short Shorts (I didn't win...)

2010-07-09T08:18:00.002-05:00

When I was 18, I baby-sat 3 very energetic little girls. One of them, now 19, came to visit for a couple of weeks. It was heaven. I love her energy, her heart, the way my son fell in love with her instantly, the way my kitchen would magically be clean when I would come home...and that's just the beginning.

But things turned nasty when I put her laundry on the bed and I decided to try these on:

I was oh so painfully reminded that:

A. I am not 19
B. I do not have her tan legs
C. I have had a baby
D. I only work out once a month

I made her leave immediately. Sigh. Not really, I just decided to accept that my season for short cut-offs is officially over, and I should stick to my spray tan and knee shorts. And then I made her change a poopy diaper.

Because if I have to deal with reality, she has to join me.

The Unexpected

2010-07-07T08:11:00.002-05:00

As a wedding planner, I've learned to expect the unexpected at any wedding:

Red wine on the bridal gown?
No problem, I'll grab some club soda and we'll get it right out!

Mother-of-the-Bride hates the Mother-of-the-Groom?
No problem, let's all have some complimentary champagne.

The groom is missing and might be at the bar next door?
No problem, unruly grooms can be motivated by an angry Mother-of-the-Bride. Every time.

Bride calls off the wedding and runs away?
Okay, even I can't fix that one.

I try never to look shocked, and I try to keep a pleasant smile on my face so that no one gets panicky.

I did a bad job this time:

The Grandmother of the bride took a nasty fall in front of the chapel. She walked in with a busted nose, a busted lip and a bloody knee. I can't remember exactly what I did, but it was about as helpful as running around in circles screaming, "somebody call 911!" And, I might have had a mild panic attack, (blood freaks me out, I still don't know how I gave birth).

And this is why my business partner/sister rocks. She calmly took Grandma to the bathroom, and began patching her up, icing her down and fixing her make-up to hide the scratches. She accomplished all of this before the ceremony began.

I accomplished procuring a first-aid kit and getting control of my stomach. And then serving myself and Grandma some complimentary champagne.

Cause it's important to contribute...

Mooched Mommy Idea #7: The Box Fan

2010-07-05T08:05:00.002-05:00

And this Mooched Mommy Idea comes from Uncle Chuck:

Chuck loves 5 things in life:
1. The hot blond he's married to
2. His 2 little girls
3. A little honesty
4. Cigars
5. The box fan

His personal belief is that the box fan is the cure to all problems in life. Disruptive neighbors? Blast the box fan. Screaming baby? Blast the box fan. Having a knock-down-drag-out with your spouse??...you get the idea.

It's the cure for all of life's inconveniences.

I've found it to be helpful in:

1. Putting cranky babies to sleep. The powerful whir takes them right to dreamland.
2. Blitzing out a tantrum.
3. Cooling me off when I need a time-out from mommying.
4. Drowning out the documentary my husband is blasting.

Thank you, Guru Chuck for your wisdom.

This is What a Real Momma Looks Like, Okay?!

2010-07-02T20:32:00.003-05:00

You know what, People magazine?

Back off of Britney.

She is a Mom. This is what we look like. We don't want to glam up when we run to Starbucks. Our thighs are a little heavier than, say, when we were 16. We don't usually match. We have bad hair-days. We don't rush out the door "all put together." In fact, I went to UPS this afternoon sans make-up with queso on my shorts. It's how we roll.

She's just keepin' it real.

A Little Sister is on the Way

2010-07-01T07:13:00.004-05:00

She's got a little sister coming!
She's currently excited about it!
That might change when she figures out little sister is here to stay...

I'm not gonna tell this little darling that little sisters can:

1. Tell Mom on you.
2. Hide rotten eggs under your bed.
3. Put a wet wash cloth in your sheets.
4. Handcuff you to the sink.
5. Spy on you and your boyfriend having a fight.

Nope, I'm gonna keep that to myself. Cause, truly, there's nothing better in life than a sister.

*I'm going to save these pictures for when she thinks I'm lying...

Staying At Home

2010-06-28T13:42:00.005-05:00

My Canadian mommy friend wrote this about being a working mother. She likes to stir it up, that one. It made me think about my beliefs about "stay-at-home-mothering." Let's see, I think I lasted 6 months "at home" before I started climbing the walls and began my own business.

Frankly, everyone seems to have a strong opinion about stay-at-home vs. working mothers. I've been called a "breeder" by a little snot that thought her work-out routine was more important than children. I've been questioned by truly curious women that wonder if life will be over once motherhood enters their life, (totally fair.) I've also been told by a few that "a woman's place is in the home." Well, hallelujah...

I'm confused.

My philosophy: I don't want to miss my "momma season" with my son. But, I know I'll enjoy it more and do it better if my life is balanced. My big, deep philosophy: Balance. I don't think my world should ever revolve solely around kids. Nor do I believe it should revolve solely around career, money, church, fun, my husband, my family or myself.

How about a balance of all of them?

And....can't we all just get along?!?!

A Princess Story

2010-06-26T12:27:00.001-05:00

I would never tell a bright-eyed princess this; but it's totally true. And I laughed till I cried:

*via Sarah @ http://www.emergingmummy.com/

Fishin'

2010-06-24T08:37:00.005-05:00

My Dad never had sons. He swears that he loved having two girls, but I feel a little bad that my Dad had 18 years of princesses, Barbies, ballet, pink, make-up, PMS and overall girl drama.

I feel that I've atoned for my girliness by giving him a grandbaby that is ALL boy. In fact, the first thing Dad bought him, at the tender age of 3 months, was a Spiderman fishing pole. Fishing hadn't really worked out with me and my sister, but he was optimistic it would workout with his grandson.

That pole has been put in his closet for 2 1/2 years, and we finally broke it out for a lake trip. I was told I was to be there for diaper changing and photo taking, but to make myself scarce.

There was man time to be had...

Mooched Mommy Idea #6: The 4 o'clock Clean-Up

2010-06-22T01:59:00.000-05:00

I take great offense to untidiness and dirt in my home. And, ever since he came along:

I've obviously had to get over that.

My fabulous Aunt Kathy gave me her top-secret trick: The 4 o'clock Clean-up.

After listening to me obsess about how I cleaned the house ALL DAY LONG, she told me that she only cleaned once a day when her kiddos were little. She said, "you want to live in your house, that's what it's for."

Her plan: At 4 o'clock, everyone cleans up the entire house together. That way, you can have a tidy home at the end of your day, and the kiddos can play all day unfettered. That philosophy has freed me to enjoy the chaos, laugh with my busy boy and clean like a crazy woman only once per day.

Aunt Kathy, my son and my sanity thank you...

A Good Kick in the Butt

2010-06-19T08:58:00.000-05:00

Jesus said whatever you do to the least of these my brothers you’ve done it to me. And this is what I’ve come to think. That if I want to identify fully with Jesus Christ, who I claim to be my savior and Lord, the best way that I can do that is to identify with the poor. This I know will go against the teachings of all the popular evangelical preachers. But they’re just wrong. They’re not bad, they’re just wrong. Christianity is not about building an absolutely secure little niche in the world where you can live with your perfect little wife and your perfect little children in a beautiful little house where you have no gays or minority groups anywhere near you. Christianity is about learning to love like Jesus loved and Jesus loved the poor and Jesus loved the broken....

-Rich Mullins

Laundry Day

2010-06-17T08:20:00.001-05:00

No matter how many piles of laundry I have...

No matter how many clothes I have to fold...

I will not complain.

Meet my lovely friend Alisha, and her washing machine at her new home in Africa:

The fact that she is able to smile about this situation can only be because:

1. The newlywed glow has overpowered all appliance inconveniences.
2. The sun in Kenya has gone to her head.
3. She is a better wife/Christian/homemaker than me.

It might be all of the above; with heavy emphasis on #3. Until then, I will continue to miss my African domestic goddess. And I will hug my washing machine.

Love me some perspective.

The Pregnancy Thigh Master

2010-06-14T08:54:00.000-05:00

I took this picture last summer to inspire me to tone my legs. Meet my friend, Kristen, and her perfect legs:

Kristen and her legs just launched a DVD series for pregnant women. It's called PregoFit, and it's fabulous.

If I had this DVD series when I was preggers, then perhaps I would have been much less mushy at the end of my 9-month-plight. I might have felt better and had all of my ribs stay in place. Perhaps I would have hidden less Twinkies in my underwear drawer.

One never knows.

I do know that Kristen is the real deal. Certified trainer, healthy, fabulous and walks the walk. I could not be more thrilled to recommend this series!

As soon as I have the nerve to get knocked up again, I will have my credit card ready.

I might be jealous if she wasn't so darn sweet!

The Manliness Police

2010-06-11T08:19:00.000-05:00

I am the mother of a boy. He likes to be outside, he loves being dirty and he has no tolerance for quiet activities. I must admit, some days I have no idea what to do with him, but I don't fret. I know that if I get out of line, I have the ever-faithful Manliness Police to keep me accountable as I raise my son.

Allow me to introduce:

Officer You-Give-Him-Too-Many-Baths:

*Bought his first cowboy hat, boots, John Deere tractor and shotgun.

Officer He-Can-Drive-If-He-Wants-To:

*Bought his first fishing pole, 4-wheeler and life-sized tiger.

Officer Don't-Let-My-Nephew-Attend-Princess-Parties-Ever-Again

*Bought his first baseball, bat and Transformers t-shirt

Officer They-Are-Not-Panties-They-Are-UNDIES

*Bought his first superhero t-shirt, toy cars and remote control.

This group of ever-vigilant watchdogs works tirelessly to keep me in the know of all things manly. If I mess up, they are faithful with a lecture, text or phone call. When my son pees outside, shows his muscles or smells like a puppy, I know they are happy with my mothering. When my son wanted to wear a sequined barrette to Target, there is much wailing and gnashing of teeth.

My bad.

Linkage

2010-06-10T10:04:00.001-05:00

A few fellow bloggers to inspire deep thoughts or laughter:

My Aussie friend, Rebecca, wrote this beautiful post about stopping the mommy madness to enjoy a moment. I've though about this all week.

K.C. Clifford, an amazing musician and woman, wrote this post about nurture and being authentic.

This is the greatest birth story I've ever read. I cry every single time I read it. Simply beautiful.

Dorynda makes me holler. She shares my secret addiction; don't judge us.

This is my friend, Stacy. She is the Texas-version of Martha Stewart. She is also beautiful and thin. Sigh.

And this is why I will not get a puppy. I don't care how much my son loves them.

Girl Activities

2010-06-08T05:28:00.002-05:00

I want a little girl.

If that doesn't happen, I will continue to borrow my girlfriend's little princesses. They don't seem to mind, apparently little girls come with slightly more drama.

I did not, in any way, prompt these next pictures. It just comes naturally to my gender.

It's how we roll...

Quality Control

2010-06-06T05:14:00.002-05:00

I've been wearing a lot of stretchy pants lately. Wedding season is over, and I apparently did too much quality-control cake sampling:

It's an important part of my job. I take it seriously. I wouldn't want anyone to have a bad buttercream experience.

My waistline has requested I return to the gym.

Traitor.

For the Mommas!

2010-06-04T12:54:00.000-05:00

I received this card from my brother and sister-in-law. It made me cry. And then once I was done crying, I laughed at how ridiculously true it is. (If memory serves correct, on that very day I was obsessing about why my son had a runny nose for a month straight.)

And I wanted to share it because I know that most of my readers are Mommies that:

1. Worry too much
2. Work too hard
3. Forget that, despite us, our kids will turn out okay anyway

Take a deep breath, dear Mommy friends. We're gonna get through this together!

My Little, Red Engine

2010-06-02T06:26:00.001-05:00

I've wanted one for 2 years...ever since I discovered that cooking was not the devil's punishment for wives and mothers.

Daddy Doo presented it to me for my birthday. Bless his loyal heart, he acted confident in my skills. He didn't make wisecracks about my pumpkin roll gone bad, my peppermint cake that broke teeth, the unfortunate pineapple upside-down-cake incident or my E-Z Bake disasters.

My sister tried to follow his example. But, she couldn't help but look a little concerned when she casually asked why I wanted one, (the memory of the peppermint cake is probably too vivid in her mind...)

Here's the thing: I've been watching Food Network for 3 years. I've been reading Pioneer Woman. I've been checking out cookbooks from the library. I've been quizzing my 2 mother-in-laws and begging for tips. I've been practicing.

I think I'm ready.

Hello, Lover.

Mooched Mommy Idea #5

2010-05-31T02:28:00.001-05:00

I swiped this idea in high school Home Ec.

1. Yes, I was in Home Ec.
2. I was actually the Vice President of the Future Homemakers of America.
3. I do, in fact, see the irony.

Moving on.

In the unit on child development, our teacher brought in a huge can of shaving cream and squirted it all over our desks. Everyone in the class was 15 or older, yet we played in our shaving cream for the rest of class. I remember that it smelled much better in there afterward...

I forgot most of what I learned on child development, but I never forgot shaving cream day!

So now, I strip the toddlers to their diapers, squirt a pile of shaving cream and remind them not to touch their eyes.

Endless entertainment!

And it always smells fresh and clean when shaving cream time is done. Not bad for the former VP of FHA, eh?

Wedding Season Awards 2010!

2010-05-28T02:44:00.000-05:00

The beginning of April marked the blast-off for our wedding season; we had 1-4 weddings every single weekend. I had a ball! Cake every weekend! Tears during every ceremony! Dancing every reception!

I am....tired.

Without further ado, here are my Wedding Season Awards for Spring 2010:

Most Shameful Moment
A Momzilla walked in while I was decorating a table. She didn't see me, so I crawled under the table and hid. And my sister had to deal with her.

Everlasting shame. I have no excuse.

Proudest Moment
When a Momzilla told us, "I've been so mean to you and you made everything perfect for my daughter's wedding day. Not one thing went wrong."

I then had an unchristian moment and wanted to throw out my ugly finger.

But I didn't. I smiled and replied, "Every Mom gets stressed."

Most Terrifying Moment
When I got a panicked call from my bride telling me she was going into emergency surgery 2 days before her wedding.

With some strong meds and a little champagne, she was feeling great on her wedding day.

Most Ridiculous Request
I got a panicked call at midnight from a groom that requested I forge a permit for something he forgot. He even went a step further and said, "I know you can do this! I have faith in you!"

Never, for one minute, think your faith will inspire any criminal activity on my part.

Biggest Melt-Down
During one particular wedding, we were being treated horribly by the clients and guests. I was frazzled beyond belief. So I did the professional thing and spazzed out on my sister. "I am not respected!" "No one loves me!" "Why did we start this business?!" "What is my purpose in life?!"

I then apologized. Then ate cake. And we hugged it out.

Favorite Moment
I overheard the father-of-the bride, who recently had a stroke, tell someone that walking his daughter down the aisle was what got him through the painful months of therapy. I've never seen such a proud Daddy as he walked his daughter down the aisle.

Oh, those daddies and their daughters get me every time!

The end. I'm going to the spa. I might not come back.

Mooched Mommy Idea #4: Morning Ice Cream

2010-05-24T09:16:00.001-05:00

Toddlers are picky eaters.

Every Mom knows this, but I take it personal anyway. When I prepare a home-cooked meal and he screams in terror at the thought of eating it, I know that karma is paying me back for all the years I did that to my Mom.

Therefore, I look for ways to be sneaky. The best weapon in my arsenal so far is Dr. Sear's Power Smoothie. I make one every morning for my little punk. I can hide all sorts of power-greens in it, too! My deception went one step further when I named it, "Morning Ice Cream."

Here is my edited recipe, and it makes about 2-3 servings of "Morning Ice Cream."

1/2 c. plain, organic lowfat yogurt
Handful of frozen blueberries
Handful of frozen strawberries, (or any other kind of berry;I just use what's in the freezer.)
1 banana
1/2 t. flax oil
1/2 t. berry-flavored cod liver oil, (my pediatrician says this is GREAT for toddlers)
Almond milk, add to right consistency
Handful of power greens: spinach, kale or avacado
Sprinkle of cinnamon
Ice cubes

*I just add milk and ice until I get a consistency he can drink through a straw*

Voila!

He drinks this, and I don't fret about his nutrition for the rest of the day.

On God and Toddlers

2010-05-20T07:48:00.002-05:00

There are so many instances where I am teaching my toddler a lesson and I wonder, "Is this how I act towards God?" (It's sad that I can sometimes equate my behavior/actions with a toddler's; just keeping it real.)

For instance, this morning I heard my toddler exuding a considerable amount of effort in the other room trying to move a huge bin of toys. Naturally, I offered some assistance.

Him: I do it!

Me: Well, I'm stronger and I can lift this for you.

Him: No help! I do it!

Pant, groan, push, strain.....

I had to smile. It sounds like recent conversations I've had with God:

"I got this!"

"I'll pray if things go wrong!"

"It's under control!"

Pant, groan, push, strain.....

And, perhaps, He steps back and watches me...smiles...and loves me anyway.

Scenes from a Marriage

2010-05-18T07:15:00.001-05:00

*This conversation took place after my husband gardened, mulched, de-weeded, raked and planted all weekend...without any assistance from yours truly.

Him: "Honey, will you help me bag the leaves and grass?"

I look up from my magazine, hoping he didn't mean me...

Wife: "I have allergies. I'm not supposed to touch nature."

He looks concerned about my allergies, then offers a solution...

Him: "Then just touch the trash bag and I'll touch the nature."

I think, after 5 years of marriage, the man is able to out-maneuver my Sara-logic. This could be very bad, indeed.

Mooched Mommy Idea #3: The Cookbook

2010-05-17T10:11:00.004-05:00

All growing up, there was a daily tradition that my Mom never missed: The 4 O'Clock Panic. Due to her deep-seated hatred for cooking...yet determined to provide well-balanced meals for her family...my Mother would wait until 30 minutes before dinnertime to think about, you know, actually cooking dinner.

The Panic would involve tearing through the kitchen, taking inventory of her food supply and then figuring out how to throw together a nice meal that would satisfy one major food snob and 2 little princesses. I'm not gonna lie, a lot of Hamburger Helper was involved.

When I had my very own family to cook for, I learned quickly that the 4 O'Clock Panic was not for me. I just couldn't throw together anything on-the-fly.

Enter MMI #3: the Photo Book Cookbook.

Seeing my despair, my former boss, Jennifer Jones, took a photo album and filled it with 4x6 index cards of her favorite recipes. She knew my cooking prowess was non-existent, so she made them easy and they didn't have more than 7 or so ingredients.

I use it almost every evening. It's how I plan my meals and my corresponding grocery list. I steal meal ideas all the time, add it to my book, and throw away the ones I don't use. This system has brought sanity into my kitchen for 5 years.

Let the cooking-challenged-wives rejoice!

Oh, and Happy Birthday, Mom. The 4 O'Clock Panic is further proof that you love us madly.

I Heart Products

2010-05-16T13:43:00.003-05:00

A friend of mine sent this to me.

He said, "I instantly thought of you."

He clearly doesn't understand that I need each and every one of those bottles.

No one understands.

Post Break-up

2010-05-12T10:48:00.001-05:00

Since I ended my affair with fast food meat and unorganic meat all-together, I've had all the usual symptoms of a hard break-up:

-Painful withdrawals
-Learning a "new normal"
-Random bouts of sobbing....usually when I pass a Sonic.

For example, one of my clients brought in a bag of Taco Bell during a consult, and, I automatically thought, "I'm going to go get some tacos after this appointment." As I was absentmindedly driving towards the drive-in window, I remembered the slaughter houses, beef fillers and animal mistreatment. I went straight home and warmed up some soup instead.

And it felt freaking great.

With the help of some very supportive friends, I've discovered these local resources to help with my new eating/cooking plan:

The Living Kitchen

Natural Farms

The Downing Family Farm

I have also put in an order for half a cow. Never thought I'd say that...but one of our church members is a rancher with organic meat, and you have to buy in bulk. My deep freezer will be put to good use come October....

I have to chuckle at myself...Sara has half a cow in her freezer.

Also, I have a small favor. If you have any resources to help with this endeavor, would you please leave it in the comment section or e-mail me at saramccord@yahoo.com?

Thank you!

Mooched Mommy Idea #2

2010-05-10T08:15:00.002-05:00

I started this Mooched Mommy Ideas segment in hopes of passing on ideas I stole that make my life easier. Today's MMI: Water Play

I mooched this idea from Carolyn when she told me her daughter would stand at the sink for 30 minutes and do dishes.

30 minutes.

I went right home and filled up the kitchen sink. I'm just keeping it real: there is nothing more pleasant than busy toddlers that are not demanding my attention.

I add some plastic dishes, a little soap for bubble fun and they each get an apron. (Sidenote: these are not all my children, I participate in a baby-sitting exchange.)

I feel there are 5 major advantages:
1. I can finish my coffee and surf people.com
2. They practice doing dishes.
3. They have a blast.
4. They will have cleaner toddler hands.
5. I can finish my coffee and surf people.com

Hard at work...

Food, Inc. and Those Poor Chickens

2010-05-06T13:43:00.008-05:00

At the insistence of Oprah, Dr. Oz and Emerging Mummy , I watched the documentary"Food, Inc."

I am now mad at Oprah, Dr. Oz and Emerging Mummy because I have lost all appetite for:

1. Big, fat juicy burgers
2. Pepperoni pizza
3. My $5.99 economy bag of chicken breasts

"Food, Inc." answers the most basic question: Where does our food come from? I truly thought I knew. Turns out, I had no idea.

*Manda Mae, stop reading now*

The documentary goes behind closed doors at the chicken farms, slaughter houses and feed lots. What they do to animals is brutal; I was deeply disturbed:

-Chickens genetically altered so badly by hormones that they can't even walk because their breasts are so large.
-Animals that have never experienced fresh air, green grass or sunlight .
-Animals screaming at the torture they endure.
-Animals covered in manure which, Surprise! Surprise!, gets mixed up all together in our "ground meat." That meat then gets treated with a bleach solution to clean it right up. REALLY?

They said in the film that if there were glass doors on these places, everyone would be a vegetarian.

I'm considering it.

The film also goes into great detail about the abuse of farmers, government failures to act, alarming U.S. health statistics and our addiction to cheap food. I found their information to be thorough, accurate and sobering. The film ended with the admonition that we, as consumers, get 3 votes per day to decide change: breakfast, lunch and dinner. I'm changing the vote in our house from this day forward.

I have proclaimed a food revolution in our kitchen:

-We are not eating fast food beef or pork now that I've seen exactly what "meat fillers" are.
-We will buy organic meat and dairy.
-We will start shopping at farmer's markets.
-I will write nasty letters to the USDA.

I have officially broken up with processed foods...something I thought could never, never, never happen.

Mooched Mommy Idea #1

2010-05-04T09:54:00.003-05:00

My first day as a teacher, I received advice that has changed my life:

"Everyone mooches ideas, no one is original. If you see something you like, copy-cat it!"

I have carried that wisdom into my mommy career and it holds true. If I'm doing something cool or educational with my toddler, I can almost guarantee I mooched the idea. So, without further ado, here is MMI #1:

The Cozy Corner
This idea was mooched from my mommy friend, Julie. The cozy corner is a quiet place in the house, stuffed with blankets, pillow and books. The goal is for children to have a special place to focus on reading. I've been doing it for about a year, and he'll read for up to 20 minutes now. Woo-hoo!

My cozy corner is in my toddler's closet. I sit in there with him and read my book as he reads his. Sometimes he lasts 5 minutes, sometimes he'll go for 20 if the book really catches his attention. Sometimes, he has to sit in his laundry basket to really focus... All I know, is that it's been a brilliant idea to help foster the love of reading in his little 2-year-old heart.

Ahhhh....silence...

Meet My New Friends

2010-04-30T10:30:00.003-05:00

When clients are rude and difficult, (as they sometimes are), I like to plan a reward in my head for when their event is over.

My business partner copes after the event by yelling, "they are dead to me!" That's how she rolls.

This, my friends, is how I deal:

I no longer remember the rudeness, the drama or my Pepto Bismol runs. I remember the feeling of my new shoes and the saleslady that said, "girl, it sounds like you earned these!"

She has no idea...

Me vs. Celebrity Moms

2010-04-27T20:11:00.003-05:00

Just when I feel good about balancing being a woman with being a mommy...

and I feel a sense of pride for the baby-weight I lost...

and smug about the cute clothes I can fit into again.

I open my People magazine and see this:

I gotta stop reading about celebrity moms. These floozies are gonna ruin me...

The Kitchen Booty Dance

2010-04-20T20:06:00.005-05:00

Toddlers and a husband means I could clean my kitchen all day. Every day. I decided a year ago that I would not do dishes 24/7. Even though I could. I prepare 3 meals and 2 snacks per day; you do the math. I'm in the kitchen all day, and it is ALWAYS messy.

To make this unpleasant task more fun, I put an I-Pod docking station in the kitchen and regularly update my I-Pod with dance music. Just in case I bust out my old junior high cheerleading routines while scrubbing cheerios off the floor. I just never know how the spirit is going to move me.

I humbly offer my playlist that makes this housewifing duty much, much more fun...

The Official Domestic Goddess Clean-the-Damn-Kitchen Playlist

1. Tik Tok....................Kesha
2. Telephone................Lady GaGa and Beyonce
3. Womanizer...............Britney Spears
4. Boom Boom Pow.....Black-Eyed Peas
5. Waking Up in Vegas...Katy Perry
6. Just Dance................Lady GaGa
7. Party in the USA......Miley Cyrus
8. Jessie's Girl.............Rick Springfield
9. Disturbia..................Rhiana
10. Billie Jean...............Michael Jackson
11. Maneater...............Nelly Furtado
12. Vertigo..................U2

Trust me...this will be fun. Your kitchen will be clean before you know it. You will get in a cardio workout. It will change how you do chores.

Imagine you look like this:

Ignore your husband if he makes fun of you.

Cracking Open the Parenting Books

2010-04-15T19:50:00.005-05:00

Does anyone else see the similarities?

I'm a huge believer in parenting books. I personally think Dr. Kevin Leman is a leading expert. Freaking brilliant. He has amazing books on relationships, parenting, sex, birth order and discipline. I've read almost all of them, and they've educated, challenged and changed me.

Recently, when I was at a loss about what to do with a defiant toddler, I acquired his book, "Making your Children Mind Without Losing Yours." He employs a discipline theory called, "reality discipline." It is simply:

We never tell parents to punish. We tell them to discipline, train, and teach their kids, but that doesn't mean that there might not be some kind of “pain” or consequence involved. That's how the kids learn what the real world is like and how it works. Reality Discipline gives the child a chance to make his own decisions and then live with the result of his mistakes and his failures or his good choices and his successes.

Using reality discipline means...

Being in healthy authority over your children.
Holding your children accountable for their actions
Combining love and limits on a consistent basis.
Dealing with every child as the unique individual he or she is.
Being tough but always fair.
Using action instead of words.
Sticking to your guns and following through with enforcing consequences.
Following the biblical instruction not to exasperate your children and make them angry and resentful, but to bring them up with loving discipline and godly advice (see Eph. 6:4, The Living Bible).

Love it. Trying it. I'll let ya know how it goes.

The Time Has Come

2010-04-10T08:11:00.001-05:00

It's time.

Time for happiness, bliss and Momzillas...

Time for nervous brides, crying fathers and clueless grooms...

Time to work my ever-lovin'-hiney off.

It's wedding season, my friends.

I proudly present my motivation and inspiration...

I may have to wear Spanx after the season is over...but it's so worth it...

A Tale of Two Cousins

2010-04-08T13:00:00.007-05:00

7 years ago my sister fell in love with a little fur ball and named him Smegil. The drama began immediately when she brought him home and he refused to walk on a leash, eat or potty train.

She called me in tears one day and yelled, "I let the little butthead, (not the real word she used), outside for half an hour! He wouldn't go to the bathroom so I let him back in the house, then he just looked at me and whizzed all over my carpet!"

I then proceeded to laugh until I hurt.

7 years later, I put my little boy on his fancy, singing potty. He sat there. I read books to him. He sat there some more. We sang songs. He sat there. We practiced colors. He announced, "All done." In fact, he had done nothing in his potty.

He stood up, looked me straight in the eye, and peed on me and my carpet.

The best part? I was on the phone with my sister when he did it. I have tasted my own medicine and it is bitter.

The Potty Protesters

The Things I Do for a Toddler

2010-04-07T13:41:00.001-05:00

Evidence is mounting that my son has too many toys. When his bestie got a red car, I allegedly went straight to Babies R'Us and bought one for him. He was seriously in love with it- and the devil made me do it.

Clearly.

The drama happened when my husband had to work late and my son insisted on driving the car immediately.

"Easy" 50-step instructions:

I have a college degree- how hard can this be? Oh, my battered pride:

He wouldn't leave me alone, I wasn't assembling fast enough...so he drove it like this until bedtime:

After much concentration, bad words muttered under my breath, a screwdriver being thrown across the room and making my husband finish the job at midnight...I present....

And that ends my desire to do it all myself-I don't need help-my son wants this-I can totally follow directions.

Sunday Best

2010-04-05T20:28:00.005-05:00

Oh, happy day!

I have my very own toddler to dress and take hundreds of pictures of. I've been waiting for this for a long time.

I melted into a puddle of Mommy goo when I saw this.

Hard to believe this is the little fella that looks and smells like a puppy at the end of every day.

He seems peeved to have to share the spotlight. Too bad for him that his Mommy has been a spotlight hog for many, many years.

And...he's had enough. Time to produce the church donut we promised.

Momzillas and Coping

2010-04-04T14:36:00.004-05:00

I have a difficult wedding coming up this summer. I am being very vague because I just never know who reads my blog...and I need to be professional. Professional is my middle name, people.

So, in the vast amount of summer weddings we have coming up, there's one that makes me drink Pepto Bismol like it's water. But I can't say which one. But I want to . Cause this Momzilla needs to be exposed. But I won't. Sigh.

Instead, I have decided that I need to come up with a happy thought in preparation for this wedding. I found my happy thought yesterday:

So now, instead of dread, my heart is filled with anticipation for this wedding. Because I will buy these shoes. I have earned these shoes. The price tag will not make me feel guilty. I will wear them with everything. I will expect compliments.

And...everytime I wear them....I will remind myself that I will not be defeated. That I will make lemonade out of lemons. That I will turn Momzillas into happiness.

Take that, crazy lady. Because I am a professional.

Onslaught

2010-04-01T13:35:00.004-05:00

I don't have a daughter, but I have many little princesses in my life that I love madly. This made me nauseous.

Reactions?

An Evening with Erin Conrad and Reasors

2010-03-31T12:45:00.005-05:00

I love photography.

Imagine my thrill when Erin Conrad asked my husband and me to do a photo shoot at the grocery store. She asked the right people to come along: stares do not embarrass us, management does not scare us and I'll pose by coffee creamer any day!

Before you look, I would like to make a few points:

1. I always have on lipstick, curl my hair and wear high heels when I go grocery shopping. Naturally.

2. She asked me to actually sit in the shopping cart for a fun picture, but my jeans were so tight I was afraid I would give the nice shoppers at Reasors an inappropriate show. That's why I'm just standing on it....

3. I have been craving Lucky Charms for 3 days now. Oh, Lucky Charms...I want you.

4. My husband has not gone grocery shopping in 5 years; I have no idea what he was inspecting on the eggs.

5. The Mommy in me took over when I saw organic quinoa. Erin was very patient while I had a moment with the whole grain selection. It's very strange what excites me these days....

You can see the shots here

CSI: Tulsa

2010-03-30T08:40:00.001-05:00

One of the first things we did before we bought our house was to check the criminal activity in the neighborhood. We felt our area was safe and that it would be a great place to raise our son.

That changed last week when I saw gang tagging all over my house. The perpetrators graffitied the front of our house, the porch, the door and the garage.

I immediately tracked down the perps and made them clean up their mess. They resisted at first, but I'm pretty much a bad-ass and they didn't stand a chance.

I won't stand for gang activity at my home.

I Get No Respect

2010-03-28T20:24:00.003-05:00

The directions were:

1. Keep the shaving cream away from your face.

2. Don't touch your clothes with the shaving cream.

3. Don't touch each other with the shaving cream.

Because what I say is law around these parts.

Clearly.

Sonoma Valley: Barrels of Fun

2010-03-26T08:58:00.000-05:00

Here are the final pics. I really got camera happy those 3 days; everything was beautiful in wine country.

A beauty not rivaled in all of the scenery, however, was the barrels....

I present barrels of happiness:

Barrels of joy:

Barrels of delight:

Barrels of bliss:

And, finally, the end product of all of our barrel partaking:

The End.

Sign up for The Happiness and Joy Tour 2011!

Sonoma Valley

2010-03-24T19:22:00.009-05:00

I finally edited the Sonoma Valley pictures today. I'm behind, I know. Mothers of the bride are taking over my life...but that's another post.

I have decided that this needs to be an annual trip. I could breathe here. I could drink wine in the morning here. I could nap all afternoon here. It was a magical place, my dear readers.

The best part? These ladies right here:

It's official: one should never go on a trip without fun people. It's a waste of money.

For the Love of Cheese

2010-03-23T08:42:00.001-05:00

The Weight Watchers regime was going great. I lost 8 pounds after diligent point counting and excessive exercise. I went down 2 sizes, felt great and once again enjoyed trying on jeans.

Then I got the stomach flu, and it threw me off a little.

Okay, a lot.

As in, I've spent the last 2 weeks eating ridiculous amounts of calories.

Because this:

Just isn't as tasty and satisfying as this:

Alas, I gotta get my arse to the gym. And lay off the cheese pizza, cheese fries and cheese nachos or my skinny jeans just might break-up with me.

My Childless Wisdom

2010-03-21T10:22:00.004-05:00

When I was childless and knew everything, I said things like:

1. I won't let my kid eat in the car.

2. I won't give my kid much sugar.

3. I won't get my kid fast food.

4. I certainly would never give my kid sugar as a reward for good behavior.

I now have a toddler, I know nothing and he loves Sonic ice cream. It seems to be working out okay...and carseat covers can be washed....

The Shinbone Gypsy

2010-03-15T20:03:00.004-05:00

Because she is so much cooler than me...

Because I have forgiven her for putting rotten eggs under my bed...

Because in my world of Target bargains, she gives me her amazing hand-me-downs...

Because she actually has deep thoughts...

Because she's my other half/life coach/crisis-solver and I wanted to share her brilliance...

I present my little sister's blog:

http://theshinbonegypsy.blogspot.com/

Love this girl.

A Time to Reflect

2010-03-12T09:19:00.001-06:00

Because there needs to be a place they can go to:

-calm down

-reflect on poor choices

-think about better choices

-be alone

-feel the consequences of hitting, biting, kicking, hair pulling or any bullying behavior

The happiness in the clearly marked UNHAPPY place reveal they might not be getting the message....

Toddler School: Part III

2010-03-10T00:49:00.000-06:00

Toddler school continues. I say "school" very loosely. It usually involves coloring, a number to learn and several corrections to the little boy to please-sit-on-your-bottom.

I decided to tackle the number "2." Since they are both 2, I thought this was an excellent way to blend academics with real-life-situations. I even threw in markers to make it extra special!

(I am a former teacher and life-long nerd.)

This was their response:

*Notice she is using one marker at a time, tracing her "2's" and keeping her marks on the paper....

*He found it more academic to paint himself, taste the marker and leave all the caps off.

Lesson finished....

The Princess Parties

2010-03-08T19:59:00.006-06:00

A few years ago, the water was fertile in Tulsa as all of my girlfriends and I got knocked up. Seriously...within a few months we were all large and in charge.

That all worked out great because we could endure the shocks of motherhood together. The only major difference was that every single one of them had a girl. This has not really been an issue until the princess parties began:

There are princess cupcakes....

Princess toys....

But, most importantly....there are the lovely and delicate princesses:

His Daddy and Uncle Ty are worried about all of the pink exposure. I think, "hey, what a lucky guy!" He'll never want for a prom date....

Love and Hate

2010-03-03T05:00:00.000-06:00

Being 2 has brought out my little guy's personality. I thought I would jot down a few things he's particularly passionate about....

Loves
Getting in my bed at 6...every morning
Gummy vitamins, "chippies" and large quantities of ketchup
Spitting on the carpet
Peeing in the bathtub
Electric toothbrushes and excessive toothpaste
Using every spoon in my house as a guitar
Electrical outlets
Greasy, processed food
Puppies, puppies, puppies

Hates
Being in his brand new toddler bed
Being banned from the stove, oven and electrical outlets
Getting in trouble for spitting on the carpet
Peeing in the potty
Vacuuming
Sharing with girls
Wholesome, homemade food

*Favorite thing ever: Having a "drive" and touching every single button.

Goodbye B/F/F

2010-02-23T08:47:00.005-06:00

I took away his pacifier. His best friend. His beloved "nu-nu." It was a sad day, indeed. He cried, I screamed in a pillow, he wailed, I pulled out my hair...there was much drama.

It was time, though. He was two, had all of his teeth and was becoming a pacifier addict. I know there are many approaches, but we just went cold turkey and settled in for a few days of protest.

When he woke up from his first nap sans the "nu-nu," I thought it warranted a big reward:

It was touch and go for a minute- but I think he's gonna live, folks.

How to Keep your Man

2010-02-18T12:00:00.000-06:00

After being trapped in the house by sickness and weather, my buddy and I took our wild ones to Chick Fil A so they could burn off some energy. When a little sweetheart in a pink shirt started to play with my son, I joked to Emma that "someone was trying to take her boyfriend."

And that's when I learned a good lesson from a 2-year-old.

She ran over to the flagrant flirters, raised her arms in the air and screamed:

"AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!"

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you handle the competition.

If Jennifer Aniston had seen this blog, things might have turned out differently.

The Chronicles of Spin Class/Humiliation

2010-02-16T09:29:00.007-06:00

I've heard confessing your sins can be cleansing. Of course, I took it too far when I announced to my spin instructor that I ate too many valentine donuts the day before. She immediately put me on a bike in the front and simply said, "you shouldn't have told me that."

I started pedaling. For the first 10 minutes, I felt a little queasy as the lard rolled around in my stomach. I eased up my gear a little...and she saw me.

"GIVE ME MORE, SARA!"

The class laughed. I pedaled harder and put on more gear. I took a deep breath; she mistook it as a yawn...

"SARA, ARE YOU BORED???"

"No ma'am!" I panted.

"I SMELL DONUTS!"

This went on for the duration of class. To add insult to injury, a camera crew showed up during class to film a commercial. They zoomed in on me- no makeup- no hair products-in a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle t-shirt-getting reamed out for my Valentine sins. Not awesome. This is one of the few times in life I don't want to be a star.

All because of this little temptation....

and my big mouth...

Dr. Sara

2010-02-15T09:00:00.002-06:00

When I had corporate health insurance; I went to the doctor over a sniffle. I loved getting prescription medicine for $5, I loved being able to have all kinds of tests run and I frequently looked through my health plan to see if there was a specialist I might need to see.

As always; I am aware that I have issues. Moving right along...

I haven't had good health insurance for awhile now, so it's made me more diligent about proper health and nutrition. I'm constantly researching alternative treatments and vitamins to off-set the winter onslaught of mucus and infections. These are, through personal experience, what I've found to be the most effective:

Zinc: In swabs and drops. As soon as I feel a cold coming on, I swab up my nose and suck on those drops throughout the day.

Vitamin D & C: I try to take triple the daily amount recommended. I also buy the "Emergen-C" packs and drink them. I put a little in my toddler's juice when he's getting a cold, as well. He thinks it's "nummy!"

Throat Coat: This herbal tea is a miracle for sore throats. But it immediately!

Jim Beam: Cause I think hot toddies are fun. They seem to help me sleep better, too...

Now, I want to talk to you about my secret weapon: pot.

The Neti Pot. Gah, people!

The tea kettle thing in the picture is the reason I have not had a serious cold all fall or winter. As someone who usually does 3 rounds of antibiotics every cold season, this little contraption has saved my immune system. It's just warm saline water, and you pour it in one nostril and the gunk comes out the other. The genius of it is that you are keeping all 4 pairs of sinuses sterile, preventing infection from ever occurring.

It works. Seriously. I don't want to hear about your cold until you've tried the pot.

An Unlikely Break-Up

2010-02-12T19:36:00.004-06:00

My son is officially acting two. I was not so delusional that I thought I could get through unscathed, but this is ridiculous. It takes him 2 hours to get to sleep at night. He gets up 2 or 3 times in the middle of the night, climbs in my bed and then sleeps on my face. To add insult to injury; his 2-nap-a-day has gone to 30 minutes. With about an hour of drama before that. He punches, he hits, he whines and he refuses to eat. A completely different toddler within 2 days.

When I get this frustrated in a relationship, I like to break-up with the person. I imagine my current relationship problem could be dealt with like this:

Dear Toddler, I need to write this out so that I can get it all out before you interrupt me. First of all, you're great; you're going to go far in life. I truly want only the best for you. I just think we're in a different place right now, you know? It's not you; it's me! I just can't handle a serious relationship right now. I love you a lot, but I think I just need my space for awhile.

Love,
Me

But, I won't write this. Instead, I will get up in the middle of the night and comfort him. I will make endless peanut butter and jelly sandwiches if that's all he'll eat right now. I will pray. I will call my Mother and cry. I will ask for advice on facebook. And I will get over it. Cause I'm the mommy now. And a 2-year-old will not best me...I hope...

Cheetos are calories, right??