MAMA DUCK

The Infinite Hallway

2011-08-17T12:42:00.000-07:00

I imagine my life as an infinite hallway. On the left side are doors that are unlocked. These doors contain the things that are always with me as I travel. Things like family, friends and experiences. The doors on the left are always unlocked so when I need to access a memory or support from my family or friends they are always there.

On the right side is a blank wall. On this wall I draw doors of opportunity. I draw these doors with a pen of intention. The ink in this pen is always flowing and never fades. This ink comes from my thoughts and actions and imagination. The door is drawn only when I give of myself without expectation of reciprocity. No strings attached. Doors that may remain locked for a while haven't ripened. It's not time to reveal what's behind it. This part is hard for me. I'm impatient.

I am grateful for this infinite hallway. I am grateful that I have the ability to create my life exactly as I want it to be. I am grateful that I have the ability to deal with unexpected results. I am grateful...

Let's talk about sex...

2011-08-16T14:18:00.000-07:00

So it happened. Emma asked where babies come from. This is how it went:

Emma: "Mommy, where do babies come from?"

Me: "Well, the daddy gives the mommy a special seed. The seed grows in her belly and makes a baby."

Emma: "Like a nut?"

Me: {stammering} "Well...ummm...no. It's like...ummm."

Emma: "And how does it get in there? Do you swallow it?"

Ty chimes in with, "Go ahead Mommy, explain how it works." I knew at this point that the questions wouldn't stop.

Me: "Okay Emma. I'm gonna tell you exactly how this works. But there are some rules. One, you don't talk about this to anyone except Daddy or me. Two, this is very private and only for grown-ups. Three, if you have any questions about this you don't ask anyone but Daddy or me. Okay?"

Emma: "Okay."

Me: {inhales deeply} "Okay. So you know how a boy has a penis and a girl has a vagina?"

Emma: "Yes."

Me: "Okay, well...The man has a seed and it's called sperm. It lives in his testicles."

Emma: "You mean his nuts?"

Me: {stifling laughter} "Yes, his nuts, but they are called testicles. He uses his penis to put the semen into the woman's vagina. This is called sex. Connected to the vagina on the inside is the uterus. Inside the uterus, the woman has an egg."

Emma: "WOW! Like a chicken egg?"

Me: {still giggling} "Well...no, not like a chicken egg. It's a tiny little egg. You can only see it with a microscope."

Emma: "Oh, like my pinky fingernail?"

Me: "No, even smaller than that. You can't see it without a microscope."

Emma: "Oh ok."

Me: "Ok so, the sperm goes into the uterus and meets up with the egg. There is a chemical reaction and the sperm and the egg together make a baby. The baby grows in the mommy's uterus for 9 months and then the baby is born."

Emma: "Do they always cut the baby out of your tummy?"

Me: "No, mommy couldn't have you the natural way. Normally the woman pushes the baby out through her vagina."

Emma: {audible gasp}"Does it hurt?"

Me: "Well, I've heard it does hurt but they can give the woman medicine so it doesn't hurt."

Emma: "Oh."

Me: "Do you have any questions?"

Emma: "No. Hey Daddy! Can we go to McDonald's tomorrow?"

The next day I wanted to be sure that she had properly absorbed the information. I pulled her aside after dinner and asked her if she remembered what we had talked about the day before.

Emma: "Yeah. I didn't talk to anyone about it."

Me: "Good. Do you have any questions?"

Emma: "Mommy? If you're a grown-up and you're married, {whispers} can you do it on the couch when nobody's home?"

Me: {trying desperately not to laugh} "Well when you're a grown-up and YOU'RE MARRIED and no one is home, you can do it where ever you want."

Emma: {giggles} "Cool."

And that is how I had the sex talk with my 7 year old. It was actually a lot less painful than I thought it would be.

Common Phrases in the Haus of Schaeffer...

2010-09-20T21:24:00.000-07:00

Here is a top 10 list of phrases that have been spoken, or perhaps yelled, in my house on more than one occasion.

10. "Stop touching your penis!"

9. "Don't jump on the bed!"

8. "That is not a toy!"

7. "Stop running in the house!"

6. "Don't throw your toys!"

5. "Stop jumping off the couch!"

4. "Get your hand out of your milk!"

3. "No, you cannot pee in the bathtub!"

2. "Stop splashing in the bathtub!"

And finally...drumroll please...

1. "I LOVE YOU!"

Sorry for the mush. I couldn't help myself.

We're off to see the wizard...

2010-09-20T13:42:00.000-07:00

...the wonderful wizard of...WTF?!?

They made me stop in my tracks. The moment I saw them, I was drawn into the gravitational pull of their awesomness. That's when it started...

Right Brain: "Oh my gosh. Aren't these beauuuutiful?!"

Left Brain: "Yeah, yeah...they're shiny and red and pretty. Keep walking."

Right Brain: "No, I have to touch them."

Left Brain: "No, keep walking."

Right Brain: "Come on, I just wanna get a closer look."

Left Brain: "You need another pair of red shoes like you need a hole in the head."

Right Brain: "Oh, but these are so much more shiny and sparkly than the ones I have."

Left Brain: "You don't NEED red shoes. You need brown or beige ones. For the wedding that you are going to next weekend...remember?"

Right Brain: "But these are so much more exciting than BORING brown or BLAND beige. Besides, you wouldn't let me get the RED dress that I wanted for the wedding."

Left Brain: "Remember what happened last time you wore a RED dress to a friends wedding?"

Right Brain: {sigh} "I know, I know...that's why I let you talk me in to the dreary, lifeless thing on the hanger in the closet."

Left Brain: "Seeeee...now let's go. I'm hungry."

Right Brain: "Shut up, I'm just looking." {turns shoe over to look at the price}

Left Brain: {audible gasp} "$300?!?"

Right Brain: "Yeah but it's Stuie."

Left Brain: "Who?"

Right Brain: "Stuart Weitzman."

Left Brain: "Stuart Who? Who is that?"

Right Brain: "You know, Stuart Weitzman. The shoe designer that has a magical ability to make the shoes that we, {scoff} I mean...I dream about at night!"

Left Brain: "You don't need to spend $300 on shoes that will make you look like the second coming of Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. You have nothing to wear them with anyway."

Right Brain: "So what, they're beauuuutiful."

Left Brain: "Put the shoe down. What would Ty say?"

Right Brain: "Who?"

Left Brain: "Ty, you know...YOUR HUSBAND, the father of your children. What do you think he would say if you spent $300 on red shoes that go with nothing in your closet."

Right Brain: {sigh of defeat}"Oh...yeah. Gosh, don't you have anything better to do than crushing my dreams?"

Left Brain: "When's the last time you wore heels anyway? Like what...a year ago? Forget it. Just put the shoe down and walk away."

Right Brain: {puts the shoe down}"Ugh...fine."

Left Brain: "You'll thank me later."

Right Brain: "Whatever."

Schaeffer Sh*t-Chat

2010-09-17T10:02:00.000-07:00

Ty and I have some very strange and interesting conversations. I wanted to start a section on my blog with transcripts of these conversations. I knew I wanted to name this section 'Schaeffer (word that starts with 'S')". So I started the recorder and asked him, knowing that it would be good blog material.

Me: "What is another word for talking that starts with 'S'?"

Ty: "Soliloquy?"

Me: "Isn't that some sort of poem? Or some kind of like way of writing, or..."

Ty: "It's when an actor talks to himself."

Me: "No wait, lemme rephrase the question. What's another word for a conversation that starts with 'S'?"

Ty: "What's another word for conversation? Dialogue? Is that what you're talking about?"

Me: "No like another word for talking, conversation, chit-chat...but something that starts with 'S'."

Ty: "Ummm repartee?"

Me: "Yeah, that's an 'R'."

Ty: "Ok...shit-chat?"

Me: {laughing} "That's actually pretty good. Shit-chat?"

Ty: {using his new found word in a sentence} "He wasn't saying anything, he just wanted to shit-chat with me."

Me: {starting to laugh hysterically} "Thats actually really good."

Ty: "Ty's made up words of the day!"

Me: "Uhhh, it's not really a word. Well, you didn't make up the word shit."

Ty: "I did make up the word shit-chat."

Me: "No you didn't, it's not a word its a phrase."

Ty: "It's not a phrase its a word there is a hyphen. Its one word."

Me: {scoff, sigh}

Ty: "Hyphens don't separate words they combine words."

Me: "Ok but, you didn't make up the word shit..."

Ty: "No."

Me: "...and you didn't make up the word chat."

Ty: "No, no."

Me: "You married the words."

Ty: "Chefs don't like, make up spaghetti..."

Me: {giggling again}

Ty: "...ok? They use it in a special way. {imitating someone arguing with a chef?} 'This is just spaghetti...'"

Me: {speaking through laughter} "So you made a word recipe???"

Ty: "Yes...yes, trademark Ty. {imitating the person arguing with the chef again} '...all you did was season tomato sauce.' {imitating the chef} 'Yes, that's what I do.'"

Me: {still laughing}

Ty: {imitating the person arguing with the chef again} "'Its not like you made a tomato.'"

Me: {hysteria} "I love you"

Ty: "I love you too."

Some time goes by where I think I'm actually going to have the opportunity to go to sleep. Then he starts again.

Ty: "I need another word for...laxative...that starts with an 'R'."

Me: {laughing again} "What???"

Ty: "You don't have the patent on making rules." {pause} "Pantalones."

Me: "Wait...pantalones is a word that starts with 'R' that also means laxative?"

Ty: "This is my game and my rules."

Me: {giggling again} "Ok..."

Ty: {sighs} "Secrets."

Me: "That's pretty good actually, that might work...I think I still like shit-chat though. It's hard to say shit-chat without it sounding like shit-shat. Ya know?"

Ty: {laughing}

Me: {speaking through laughter} "Like shit in preset tense and shit in past tense." {laughing again}

Ty: "Brittany, it doesn't just talk about all types of content, it transcends time. Present and past."

Me: {still laughing} "Ok..."

Ty: "Shit-shat."

Me: "Shit-shat."

Ty: {imitating} "'We were just sitting around shit-chatting.' No you can say it, I can't say it, but you can say it. I bet Nancy can say it."

Me: "Say what?"

Ty: "F*cking shit-chat. Say it like that."

Me: "Oh like from my class?"

Ty: "Mmm hmm."

Me: "What??? That doesn't work. I guess I woul...{sigh}"

Ty: "Sharing, sharing can be..."

Me: "No, no it's like an action, it needs to be a noun."

Ty: "Talking is not a noun, it's a verb."

Me: "That's what I mean." {laughing again}

Ty: {laughing}

Me: {laughing}

Ty: {imitating me} "'Wait, wait, wait it doesn't have to begin with 'S'...that not what I mean. It just has to be a color.'"

Me: {hysteria}

Ty: {laughing}

Me: "Ok...I love you. Goodnight."

Ty: "Sharing is a verb too, by the way."

Me: "But that's not the kinda verb I meant. I meant like a..."

Ty: "Do you want an adverb?"

Me: {laughing again} "I meant like, uh...I don't know." {yawn}

At this point I've given up my argument and have finally decided to succumb to slumber. Or so I thought...

Ty: {the sheets are rustling as he tosses and turns}

Me: "What are you doing?"

Ty: "Getting under the covers for a few minutes before..."

Me: "Oh, stop whining."

Ty: "...you steal them."

Me: "I don't steal the covers. I lay very still all night long. You toss and turn and flip and flop and kick your feet all night long. And I wake up in the same position that I fell asleep in. Almost. I am perfect. Sort of."

There is silence for a little while, but that's just the sound of the delirium kicking in. This is where things stop making sense.

Ty: "Sorbet. Sorbet is a word that starts with 'S' and is a noun that can't be a verb."

Me: {laughing} "Stop it! I have to go to sleep."

Ty: "It could be a color too."

Me: "Sorbet is a color?"

Ty: "Could be. Pudding is a color."

Me: "Really? But, what if it's like pistachio pudding? How could pudding, all by itself, be a color?"

Ty: "Red."

Me: "Red pudding?! What???"

Ty: "Red's a color...could be red pistachio pudding."

Me: {laughing} "I've never heard of...OK! Shut up because I have to go to sleep. I love you."

Ty: "Now I'm hungry."

Me: {giggling}

Ty: "You know what you never have in pistachio flavored ice cream?"

Me: "No Ty, what do you never have in pistachio flavored ice cream."

Ty: "Nuts."

Me: "Sure you do."

Ty: "No, there's never pistachio nuts."

Me: "Oh my god, I am going to go to the store and buy pistachio ice cream and show you that there are pistachio nuts in pistachio ice cream."

Ty: "Maybe I'm thinking yogurt."

Me: "Ewww, nuts in yogurt?"

Ty: "Is that what the problem is? It's just the flavor huh? That's what it is. Yogurt."

Me: "I guess they have nuts in granola."

Ty: "Not in yogurt."

Me: "And granola goes good with yogurt."

Ty: "Well, frozen yogurt, I should have said."

Me: "I don't know...No, I like granola in my yogurt yogurt. Not frozen yogurt."

Ty: "As a topping?"

Me: "Yeah."

Ty: "But, it doesn't come in it."

Me: "Right, yeah...that would be weird if it like sat on the shelf for a really long time with the nuts and the..."

Ty: "It's not on a shelf, it's in a machine."

Me: "No, I'm talking about the yogurt that you buy at the grocery store on the shelf."

Ty: "I'm talking about frozen yogurt. I said ice cream but I meant frozen yogurt."

Me: "Oh. No, there's never any nuts in pistachio flavored frozen yogurt. You are correct. Where do you get this stuff?"

Ty: "You're the one that brought up pistachios."

Me: "No I didn't! Did I? How did I bring up pistachios?"

Ty: "The pudding."

Me: "Oh, right. That's right. Ok."

Then we both fell fast asleep.

Spam Wars: Part 2

2010-09-16T14:14:00.000-07:00

From: Brittany Schaeffer
To: Raught Legassie
Date: Fri, Sep 10, 2010 at 8:08 AM
Subject: Re: Your wife photos attached

Dear Mr. Legassie,

It seems as though I've received your message in error. I do not have a wife, as I am female and heterosexual. I'm not sure who's wife is in the photos you have attached. She is quite beautiful. Did you take them? If so, I'd like to inquire about hiring you to photograph my husband. Is it a requirement that he be naked? I'm not sure if he'll be up for that. I'll make it a point to ask him when I get home from work.

I'm not sure why your email ended up in my spam folder. It is quite clear that you are trying send proofs of the photos you took of someones wife. You may want to check to make sure that the intended recipient got what he needed. How serendipitous is it that I receive your email at the same time I need a photographer?! Thank goodness I check my spam folder regularly to make sure I don't miss anything important.
I look forward to hearing from you about your pricing and availability.

Sincerely,

Notstupid Enough

______________________________________________________

From: Raught Legassie
To: Brittany Schaeffer
Date: Fri, Sep 10, 2010 at 8:08 AM
Subject: Your wife photos attached

Your wife photos

divulsion.zip

11K Download

Things I've learned and some I have not

2010-09-15T11:11:00.000-07:00

NOT LEARNED: Be careful when standing up after sitting indian style, oh wait, criss cross applesauce (stupid political correctness). Apparently, after the age of thirty, you are not so easily able to recover from sitting in this position. Both of your feet fall asleep and when you stand up, you inevitably...fall down. And at age 31, falling down is not graceful. Gravity is the enemy in more ways than just this one.

LEARNED: Children under the age of 4 should not play with scissors for 2 reasons. Reason #1: IT'S DANGEROUS. Reason #2: If the child playing with the scissors also has paper, they will probably make a HUGE mess cutting the paper into tiny little pieces resembling confetti that will somehow end up all over the place making it look like you just celebrated New Year's eve even though it's May and you will continue to find said pieces throughout the house for the next few months.

NOT LEARNED: Pull up's don't work. Despite this profound knowledge, I continue to use them.

LEARNED: Do not send sexy messages to your husband via text message. See example here

NOT LEARNED: You cannot have a reasonable conversation with a person that has an altered sense of reality. The moral of the story 'The Little Engine That Could' doesn't apply to this situation. No matter how many times you say "I think I can!", it just won't happen. I don't know why I still bother.

LEARNED: Walking into a child's bedroom in the dark will result in some sort of foot injury. This will wake up the sleeping child which you were trying to avoid disturbing by not turning on the light in the first place.

NOT LEARNED: Asking Ty questions is like having dental work without Novocaine. Ty only gives me the precise answer to the question I ask. He does not infer. Example in BOLD PRINT below:

Ty: "Hey, remember how you said you wanted to go camping?"

Me: "Yeah."

Ty: "Well, it looks like we are gonna go camping, but the house is gonna stay in the tent."

Me: "Huh?"

Ty: "The house is going to be in the tent."

Me: "Yeah, I heard you but what are you talking about?"

Ty: "It's worse than we thought."

Me: "What do you mean?"

Ty: "Well, we thought it was bad, but it ended up being worse than we thought initially."

Me: {audible sigh} "Yes, Ty, I understand that. But, what do you mean about the camping thing?"

Ty: "Oh, yeah the house."

Me: "Mmmm hmmm."

Ty: "Remember how I said we have termites?"

Me: "Ohhhh, the house has to be tented."

Ty: "Yeah."

BEWARE: Ms. Smarty Pants

2010-09-15T09:10:00.000-07:00

Ms. Smarty Pants is the type of person who feels that everyone must know how wonderful she is. Like their purpose on this earth is to make sure that everyone looks at them in awe. In other words, a narcissist. Ms. Smarty Pants wants more than anything for people to say things like, “Wow, Ms. Smarty Pants really knows what she’s talking about.” or “Look at what an amazing job Ms. Smarty Pants is doing.”.

Ms. Smarty Pants thinks that the only ideas that are good ideas are ones that she has come up with. If anyone else presents ideas to make things easier and more efficient, Ms. Smarty Pants shoots them down. She will explain to you in great detail, all of the things you should be doing in lieu of this idea that you’ve come up with. Her tone will be condescending and chiding. She will list out all of the things that you “should or could do”. Here presents a problem, because this list of things that she presents contains things that you are already doing or have already tried. Ms. Smarty Pants is not your superior. You are not her subordinate though she speaks to you as if you are. Ms. Smarty Pants may try to laugh off her 'superiority complex' by making light of the situation with a joke. This is to try and make it seem as though she is the bigger person. In reality, this only makes it more obvious to the other parties involved that she...is a nincompoop.

Ms. Smarty Pants will take advantage of every opportunity to make you look foolish. This peacock-ish performance is conducted in an effort to make herself look more advantageous. She is the hunter and you are the prey.

Below is a list of ways to fend off Ms. Smarty Pants and her arch.

1. Respond to her 'suggestions' with gibberish.

Ms. Smarty Pants: "You should be doing this."

You: "Flurple schmack woot."

2. After she lists out all of the things that you 'should be doing', that you are already doing, list them all back to her in reverse order. Also known as 'Yoda Speak'.

Ms. Smarty Pants: "Well, what you should be doing is calling, talking, emailing and coaching."

You: "Coaching, emailing, talking, and calling, I am."

3. When she tries to laugh off her behavior, respond by laughing with a grossly overstated chuckle. Agree with her but be sure your agreement is dripping with sarcasm.

Ms. Smarty Pants: "Ha ha ha. Aren't I cute and funny with what I'm saying to try and salvage the impression people have of me?"

You: "Ha ha ha haaaahhha ahhhahha haahhha haah ahhhahh! You are so funny Ms. Smarty Pants."

Of course, the best thing to do is avoid Ms. Smarty pants entirely. Unavoidable situations do occur so hopefully these suggestions of defense will help you if you ever find yourself in the company of Ms. Smarty Pants.

Spam Wars

2010-09-10T18:21:00.000-07:00

From: Brittany Schaeffer

To: Mr. Utondu

Date: Fri, Sep 10, 2010 at 4:45 pm

Subject: Corrected: PLEASE READ CAREFULLY AND REPLY

Dear Mr. Utondu,

I have received your letter and was a little bothered by the excessive grammatical errors. One would think that if anyone had dealings with large amounts of money, such as the one you speak about in your letter, he would make sure that the letter is written using proper grammar and spelling. I have taken the liberty of making some suggestions on the email you sent me so that, going forward, you will have a more professional appearance to those you send this letter to. After all, a good scam artist must present himself well to the ones he is attempting to swindle.

In response to your letter, I must tell you that it caused considerable concern. I appreciate you telling me to calm down, but as I have seen letters like this before I was not surprised to receive it. I have been offered propositions similar to this one and because I already consider myself extremely wealthy, I have no need to participate in transactions such as these. Secondly, it seems as though you are asking me to lie about being the 'care-taker business associate' to Mr. Jin Sun. This is not something that I am comfortable doing. Lying, cheating, stealing and scamming are not activities that I participate in. I have learned that taking part in these sorts of dealings only manifests problems.

I would like to thank you kindly for considering me for this "transaction". I'm so honored that you took the time to select me out of the thousands of random email addresses I'm sure you have access to.

I hope that you have a wonderful day.

Sincerely,

Duchess of Reality

From: Mr. Ashley Utondu

To: Brittany Schaeffer

Date: Sun, Sep 5, 2010 at 4:51 pm

Subject: PLEASE READ CAREFULLY AND REPLY

The Desk of Mr Ashely Utondu
Audit/Remittance Department of
African Development Bank (ADB)
Auagadougou Burkina Faso

Dear Friend,

(CONFIDENTIAL)

I know that this email will be a big surprise to you, but i (The letter 'I' is always capitalized when speaking about yourself.) want you to calm down and read very carefully.

I have a business which will be beneficial to both of us..(It is not necessary to use two periods at the end of any sentence, one usually does the trick. Unless you are using ellipses which is a whole other topic entirely.) the amount of money involved is ($5,700:000:00 (This should not have colons between the numbers.) five million seven hundred thousand US dollars) which i (Again you should always capitalize the letter 'I' when speaking about yourself.) want to transfer out of the country to your bank account, all to my financial benefit and yours too. (It would read better if you said ", for our financial benefit.") and also to take my wife abroad for treatment of liver damage. (I am curious to know how said liver damage occurred. Cirrhosis perhaps?)

This money is owned by a man called JIN SUN, a business commercialist in west-african regions. he (At the beginning of every sentence, you should always capitalize the first word.) has been dead since four years ago (2005) and since then, no claim has been placed on his bank account balance.

I want to transfer this money out of the country but such fund (Being that you are trying to transfer more than $1.00 {one US dollar} the word fund should be plural and therefore have an 's' at the end.) cannot be transferred without a next of kin attached to the fund. the (Seriously, you need to capitalize the first word of every sentence.) fund (The word 'fund' needs to be plural.)could be transferred in these (I think you mean 'this' way.) way; you shall present yourself as a business associate to the deceased person[JIN SUN) as details shall be that you are the care- taker business associate to mr. jin sun and his properties. (There are too many things wrong with the rest of this paragraph for me to list them all.)

I shall make available to you materials and information with which a successful claim shall be placed on the fund. i (Please capitalize the first word of every sentence.) shall also be your guidiance and instructor throughout the duration of this transaction so as to ensure a swift and sure transfer of the fund to your bank account.

As to your benefits, you shall be entitled to 40% of this fund for your co-operation in this transaction while 5% will be set aside for expences incured during the course of this transaction.

So if you are interested, send a reply to me immediately and in your reply please include your [private phone and your fax numbers] urgency has to be implied and this business must strictly be a deal between both of us.

Waiting for your urgent response so that i (The letter 'I' needs to be capitalized when speaking about yourself.) can move ahead and give you the indept (Do you mean 'in depth'?) details concerning this transaction and also the steps to take for a smooth transfer of the fund into your bank account.

Best Regards,
Mr.ASHELY UTONDU

Scents of Smell

2010-07-22T21:12:00.000-07:00

One of the greatest compliments a child could give to their mother is taking a big whiff of you and then saying "Mommy, you always smell so good." I know this might sound weird but, it's true. If you think about it, you can almost smell all of your memories. Fond or not. I know exactly what my mom smells like. I remember exactly how my grandmother's crawfish etoufee smelled (that I have tried without success to duplicate more than once). I can recall the smell of the homes of each one of my family members and friends.

Who doesn't love the smell of a brand new baby? The emotions associated with that 'new baby' smell is happiness and excitement. (Ty, your comments are not welcome here.) I believe that scents can be associated with almost every emotion. When you're feeling happy, chances are you'll remember what scents you smelled when you were happiest. Such as Thanksgiving dinner and being surrounded by family and friends. The onions and garlic, the turkey...you get the idea.

Such a simple phrase may seem so meaningless. But it's not. To me, it means that she feels safe. That my scent is comfort and warmth. Happiness and contentment. That she loves me so much that she wants to take in every last drop of me right down to the smell. I must say that it makes me feel like I'm doing something right.

I am...I love...I have...

2010-05-07T11:56:00.000-07:00

I am beautiful. I love my family. I have everything. I am thin. I love life. I have gratitude. I am wise. I love sleeping. I have happiness. I am helpful. I love my job. I have power. I am honest. I love people. I have a home. I am intelligent. I love peace. I have wealth. I am at ease. I love my body. I have a wonderful heart. I am sucessful. I love laughter. I am thoughtful. I love myself. I have ability.

Exterminating Rats

2010-04-18T08:58:00.000-07:00

Now that the warmer weather has shown it's face, the rodents and other critters have come out of hiding. And they're hungry. Ty and I found these really cool rat traps at Lowe's that you can set with one hand. I am not brave enough to set the other kind. It might have something to do with the fact that they can break your fingers. Anyway, since last weekend, we've caught 8 rats. The kids like to 'help' my coming with me to check them in the morning. One of the traps can be seen from the window in our kitchen. This is the one that we usually check first because we don't have to go outside. This morning, Tommy got up and I asked him if he wanted to check the rat trap with me. He agreed and so I opened the blinds in the kitchen. He climbed up on a chair and looked out the window. Sure enough, we caught number 9! While I was silently 'WOO HOO-ing" in my mind, Tommy says "Mommy! The rat is stuck! He's crying...He want's his mommy!" I didn't know how to respond, quite frankly. But, it was so cute that he felt bad about the rat being 'stuck'. Gosh I love my kids...

Obsessed Much?

2010-01-07T08:35:00.000-08:00

As most of you already know, Tommy is potty trained. Except at night we put him in pullups. More often than not when he wakes up it's wet. You might also remember that Tommy is a growly gus when he wakes up. So he woke up this morning yelling from his room, as usual. Ty told Emma to go and get him. She said "He's gonna yell at me." but being the good girl that she is she did as she was told. The moment she stepped into his room he started yelling "No, Emma, go away!". With a defeated sigh, she walked away and said "See...he always yells at me.". I thanked her for trying and got him out of bed myself. We walked back into the kitchen where the smell of breakfast cooking was rapidly filling the air. That seemed to lighten his mood so I put him sitting in the chair to wait for breakfast. Being a little boy, he is obsessed with his ummm, member. I think for boys it's like a built in toy. He still had his pullup on and it was wet but not wanting to bombard him with bathroom talk I waited until he was ready. I've gotten pretty confident that he'll tell me when he needs to go rather than having an accident. He was sitting in the chair slapping the pullup and he blurts out "Look mommy! I have a big penis!" Wow... All I can say it that I'm glad that this was said in the privacy of our own home rather than in line at the store.

Playing with Scissors

2009-12-13T20:57:00.000-08:00

So, when most kids get their hands on a pair of scissors they cut paper or, worst case scenario, hair. Well, not my kid. Tommy was sitting at the kitchen table cutting paper scraps into tiny little pieces. It looked like he was using the scissors properly so, I let him (also avoiding a potential meltdown). Jose walks in while Tiffany and I are in the kitchen making dinner. He carefully asks "Do you know Tommy has scissors?" In unison, Tiffany and I flippantly answer "Yes". Jose shrugs his shoulders and returns to the beer making activities in the garage. Not a minute later Tommy starts whining "Oh No! I beeding. Owie Mommy!" Earlier in the day he had a terrible nosebleed so I initially thought that his nose had started bleeding again. I look over and sure enough Tommy was bleeding. But not the same way he had been earlier. He had taken the scissors to his nose and sliced a perfect "U" shape into the tip of his nose. See exhibit A below. Oh the adventures we have in our home. (Please Note that this was and extremely minor incident with the potential for serious injury. We have since taken the proper precautions to prevent such things from happening again.)

In the middle of the night he starts crying and yelling. I go into his room to see what the matter is and when I ask, he just lays there and yells and cries. I plead with him to stop yelling and crying and to just tell me what's wrong. Why can't he just tell me what he needs?!? He just lays there looking at me and crying. Finally he says 'Ice water!'. I get his ice water, and he settles down. I kiss him goodnight and close the door. The moment I get back under the warm covers he starts at it again. I lay there for a minute silently hoping that he'll stop; trying desperately to telepathically communicate with him: "Tommy, shhhh, it's ok. Just settle down. Drink some water. Shhhh. You'll wake everyone up." I come to the realization that I have no telepathic abilities whatsoever because it is clearly not working. So, I get up and burst into his room and say "Tommy! Stop Yelling!" and when I reach his bed I notice that his nose has started bleeding again and it's all over his face and his pillow. I felt terrible. I cleaned him up, made him drink some ice water and turned his pillow over to the clean side (Yes, I should have changed the pillowcase but it was the middle of the night and I don't know if I have any extras anyway). So I asked him if he wanted me to hold him in my desperate attempt to clear my conscience of feeling like a bad mommy for yelling at him. He said "woking chair". So I took him into the living room and rocked him until he went to sleep. It was just what I needed. Looking down at his sweet face while he slept I thought about how these moments become less and less frequent as they grow older. I was astonished at how all of a sudden he was so big. The last time I rocked him like that he was half the size he is now. And, it wasn't very long ago that his head, that is now the size of a large melon, was once the size of a softball. I sat there rocking him for as long as I could keep my eyes open and told him that I was going to bring him back to his bed. He whispered "OK" and went right back to sleep. We both slept soundlessly for the rest of the night. I learned that what he needs is sometimes what I need too.

EXHIBIT A:

Speaking of Christmas...

2009-11-30T21:08:00.000-08:00

Tommy always runs down the hallway...always, no matter how many times we yell at him for it. I was sitting at the computer tonight and he runs down the hallway hollering "Mommy!". Did I mention that he only has two volume levels? Hollering and sleeping. I swear that child cannot speak without yelling. Remind you of someone? Anyway. "Tommy, you don't need to yell, what is it?" I respond. "I sit wit you?" I say "Sure!". So I pick him up and sit him on my lap. He looks over at the Christmas tree and says, "Look, a noman tree." I say "That's not a Snowman tree, that's a Christmas tree. Do you know who's coming for Christmas?" While he glares at me with his big brown eyes and his sly grin he says "Noooooo..." So I tell him that Abby and Paw Paw Woody and Grammy are coming for Christmas.
Pause for back story...
Me and my brother always referred to his godfather, the late Howard Bernard, as Nonc (Pronounced NONK). It's a derivative of the french word for uncle (Oncle). He couldn't pronounce Oncle, so he called him Nonc and it stuck.
Continue...
With hope in his eyes, he looks up at me and puts his hands together as if her were praying and says "And Honk too?!?"
I couldn't help it. I almost fell out of my chair laughing. These are the moments that I will cherish forever.

Love you little brother...and so does Tommy.

Tales from the Porcelain Bowl

2009-11-27T10:16:00.000-08:00

Potty training is not for the faint of heart or anyone with a sensitive gag reflex. Both of my children were fairly easy to potty train. Remarkably, Tommy seems to have had an easier time of it despite the old wives tale that boys are harder to train than girls. During the first week of him being out of diapers, we started with just going pee pee in the potty. On day 2, while I was dozing on the couch, Tommy runs into the living room without pants on and his hands covered in poop. With tears in his eyes he says "Mommy, I go poo poo.". I follow him back to the bathroom and find poop and toilet paper covering his step stool. My heart swelled with joy at the sight. Only a mother would understand being overjoyed at the sight of a poop covered step stool. Let me remind you that we hadn't really talked about pooping on the potty and it was only day 2. He attempted to poop on the potty all by himself, missed, AND tried to clean up the mess by himself. Poor thing; he was crying with poop all over his hands and confused cause mommy was telling him what a good boy he was. He must of thought I was crazy. Tommy: "Who is this woman? Mommy usually yells when I make a mess, now she's clapping and jumping up and down like a lunatic! God, when can I move out of this mad house?"

This reminds me of a similar story from Emma's potty training days. The memory is a little foggy but I'll do my best to recall it.

I'm scrambling around the house doing something. As I walk past the bathroom I find 2-1/2 year old Emma on her hands and knees on the rug in the bathroom. She was scrubbing the rug with a piece of toilet paper that was rapidly disintegrating and softly sobbing to herself. She was clearly trying not to attract attention. I asked her what was wrong and she said "I poo poo." She was trying to clean up the mess she made cause she missed the toilet. Poor baby girl. Of course I consoled her, threw the rug in the wash and her in the bath.

So, throw out that old adage of 'boys are harder to train than girls' out the window. Run out of diapers and you'll see how fast your kids get potty trained no matter their sex. It's really amazing what YOU and your kids are capable of without the security of a diaper.

The Ten Tenors and Their Youngest Fan

2009-10-06T14:55:00.000-07:00

One Sunday morning, Emma was watching PBS. I was doing some things around the house and hadn't really been paying attention to what she was watching. After all, PBS is safe enough, or so I thought. All of a sudden, she starts yelling "MOMMY MOMMY! They're coming, they're coming!". Panicked I ran to the room to see what was wrong. "Who's coming, Emma?" I ask. "The Ten Tenors! They're coming! Can you get tickets?!?" she yells jumping up and down. "The who?" I ask. "THE TEN TENORS! Look!" and she frantically points to the TV. PBS was broadcasting one of the concerts and she was absolutely mesmerized. I guess during one of the commercial breaks, there was an advertisement for the show in San Diego in December. So I told her I would look into it. I figured that it was quite a special thing for a 5 year old to be interested in something like this so I bought tickets for the evening show on December 12th and called it my birthday present. Even though we didn't have the cash, there are just some things you MUST put on a credit card. Since telling her that I bought the tickets, she asks me almost every night how much longer before we can go to see The Ten Tenors. How cute is that?

Horses and Hugs

2009-09-25T16:09:00.000-07:00

Emma crawled into our bed in the middle of the night which doesn’t happen very often. Granted she was sick with a fever, but in the morning, she looked so peaceful and sweet I couldn’t help but lift her into my arms and hold her for just a few minutes. As any mother knows, there is nothing more beautiful than her sleeping child. She sleeps like a bear in hibernation, so I figured she wouldn’t wake up. Another thing that Miss Emma is known for is talking in her sleep. So I wasn’t surprised when she started mumbling when I picked her up. I held her for a minute and before putting her back down I gave her one last squeeze. She started to grumble again and as I laid her back down with her eyes still shut she holds up her hands and says “Woah, take it easy girl!”. If only I knew what she was dreaming. Horses?

As for Tommy, he’s a light sleeper just like Ty. If he wakes up on his terms, he generally wakes up happy (not always). If he is woken up by anything else, he’s a monster. And when he’s grouchy, look out. He cannot be consoled, spoken to, or touched. It’s as if something is causing him physical pain. He yells in his bed “MOMMY!!!”. I go in his room and say “Yes, Tommy?”. The only thing that he can seem to do is lay in his bed and yell at me. So I tell him, in my sweetest, mommy voice “If you need me Tommy, you have to tell me what you want. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me. What do you need?” He just lays there and looks at me with his sad eyes and yells “NO!” So I say, “Ok, when you are ready to tell me what you need, you can come out of your room and tell me.” I close the door and of course he proceeds to scream some more. “MOMMY, MOMMY, MOOOOMMMMMMYYYY!!!” I let it go for a minute or two and go back in his room and proceed to ask him if he wants a drink, a popsicle, something to eat, anything to try and figure out what he needs. With each calm question I ask, he responds with a resounding “NO!”. So I finally ask him if he wants me to hold him. He looks at me with his sad eyes and nods his head. FINALLY! So I pick him up and take him into my room. I sit him on my lap facing me and he puts his little arms around my neck and held on tight. After a few minutes, he pulls away and looks at me in the eyes and gives me a big kiss before going back to holding on to me for dear life. I sat there with him for a few minutes with him kind of whimpering the whole time. Finally, he sits up and says “Mommy, can I pay you done, peas?” Translation: He wanted to play on my phone. Seeing that he finally snapped out of it I said “There you are my sweet boy! Where did you go? I’m so glad you’re back.” Sometimes, all they need is a mommy hug.

It’s so strange and wonderful how the two of them are so different. Emma wakes up happy each and every day. Tommy is the wild card. I love them both so much that sometimes it hurts. Each of them has their own quirks, and I love every single one. They change so much that it’s hard to remember how they little they were. I do remember how perfectly their little heads fit in the palm of my hand when they were first born. Who knew that something so little could create something so big. It’s invisible, but you can see it. It takes no shape, but you can feel it. It’s powerful enough to take your breath away but gentle enough to make you feel secure. There is nothing that I wouldn’t do for them. In my very biased opinion, I believe that Ty and I have created the two most wonderful children in the world.

Fresh Baked Memories

2009-09-15T11:15:00.000-07:00

As most of you know I just got back from a trip to Edmond, Oklahoma, Grapevine, Texas and Lafayette, Louisiana. While visiting Carol in Oklahoma, she made the most delicious bread. She told the story of the sourdough starter that she has kept alive for 13 years. Every Saturday, she feeds it potato flakes and sugar it's always ready for her when she needs to make bread. She said that when the kids were young, she would make bread every Sunday. This struck a chord with me. I instantly began thinking about something that I could make every weekend for my family. She offered to make me a starter but I declined for fear that I would somehow forget to feed it.

All throughout my trip I pondered on what I could make for my family. I tried a french bread recipe and ended up with 4 hard bricks. Then I found an old Amish sandwich bread recipe and decided to try it. I made the recipe as directed. Well, sort of, I substituted some of the white flour for whole wheat flour. After the first rise, I divided the dough in half, formed one and dropped in in a loaf pan. With the other half I rolled it out, lightly buttered the dough and sprinkled cinnamon sugar over the top. Rolled it up, jelly roll style and dropped it into a loaf pan. After letting the loaves rise one last time in the oven, I baked them. The result was stupendous! All I can say is YUM! I sliced the plain loaf and will use it for Emma's lunch sandwiches. The cinnamon loaf sadly didn't make it to the end of the day. I have never worked with yeast dough before and I am hooked. My next endeavor is to find the perfect cinnamon roll recipe.

I'm sure some of you are wondering why I'm babbling about my kitchen escapades. Well, I want my family to remember me in the kitchen. I want them to look forward to my weekend baking. I want them to say, "Oooo, Tomorrow's Saturday, Mommy's making Cinnamon Bread." or, "Let's go to my house, my mom is making homemade Cinnamon Rolls!". Our society is becoming more about instant gratification and fast food and less about patience and slow food. I want my kids to think back when they are older to the smell of fresh bread baking in the oven every Saturday morning when they were children. I want to pass down a memorized recipe to my kids that they can pass on to theirs and so on. I want them to appreciate the time that it takes to make something from scratch and appreciate it when it's finally done.

I've found the perfect bread recipe, now all I have to do is find the perfect cinnamon roll recipe.

PS: I calculated out the cost of making the bread and it's only 97 cents per loaf. What a deal!

I'm Leaving!

2009-09-15T09:11:00.000-07:00

Last night, I was in the kitchen cleaning up the mess that seems to multiply anytime I use the kitchen. I was wiping down my stand mixer when Tommy walks into the kitchen sporting only a diaper and my car keys and says, "Bye Mommy! I'm leaving!" I said, "Where are you going?" stifling my laughter. He said "Work." Of course, I didn't want him to leave (not that he could drive off on a whim anyway) so I was able to distract him with a cinnamon roll. I love the way they try an imitate us. It surely is the greatest form of admiration.

'

2009-09-15T09:10:00.001-07:00

WALK PEOPLE!!!

2009-07-14T14:52:00.000-07:00

Picture this: You're walking through a mall. There is a large group of people in front of you walking in a line perpendicular to the direction you are walking. They all stop at once, blocking your path. You say 'excuse me' and 'pardon me' but they don't speak english and just stare at you like deer in the headlights. You make a little wiggling movement with your head and your body to make it seem like you're trying to get through. They stare then turn around and start walking again with you stuck behind them. You sigh with defeat. But then......you see an opening. You're excited...you might finally get past them. You hurriedly walk toward the wide space to the left of the slow perpendicular walking herd of foreign deer people when you are met by on coming walkers. Ugh. You want to push through the obviously brainless crowd of humans and say "GET OUT OF MY WAY!", but...that would be rude. You say to your self 'I'm not a rude person.'. So, you walk at the excruciatingly slow pace of the herd resorting to reading the next chapter of your book secretly hoping that you will 'accidentally' bump one of the herd members while you are so engrossed in the really super interesting book you're reading. This sparks an idea. You start to plot. You think to yourself if you 'accidentally' bump into one of them, they would move out of the way and you could get through. You decide that you are actually going to go through with it. You speed up your pace pretending to be throughly involved in your book when all of a sudden...

...the whole group turns in the opposite direction you need to go. Yippee! Back to work you go.

You want a what?!?

2009-07-13T09:56:00.000-07:00

After a long day of swimming and playing at our friend Tiffany's house, we finally made it home. When we went inside, the house was very stuffy even though all of the windows were left open all day. I told Emma to go put on her pajamas. She asked if she could sleep in her undies because it was so hot. I said that was fine and as she was about to get into her bed she asked me "Mommy, I want one of those things for 5 year olds." "What things?" I ask back. "You know those things that go like this (she motioned across her chest) and over your shoulders and then you buckle it in the back." Perplexed I ask "A bra?". She answers "Yeah, they have them for 5 year olds. I want one so that no one can see my boobs." It took everything I had to contain my laughter. I ended up telling her that we could look into getting her some undershirts. What am I gonna do with this girl...

Holy Moly Guacamole!

2009-07-07T10:32:00.000-07:00

Is there anything cuter than a two year old trying to master the english language? I don't think so. While visiting grandpa's house on Sunday, Tommy was eating chips and guacamole. We told him to say guacamole. It was so cute we made Ty get out his camera and record him saying guacamole. I could just squeeze him, but if I did he's yell at me. As most of you know, he's really good at that.

He is also becoming quite the little persuader. The men were working on the lighting on our patio. There were various tools and such strewn about and of course a ladder. Well I haven't met a kid yet that doesn't want to climb a ladder. It's definately a temptation that can't be resisted. Tommy walks up to the ladder and in his two year old lingo says to me "Mommy, I up here, yes or no, yeeesss?" Little bugger. Trying to persuade me to let him climb the ladder. As I've said before, the cuteness is a survival mechanism.

Monsters and Bad Guys and Noises, Oh My...

2009-06-30T08:52:00.000-07:00

It seems that Emma is having another flare up of Monster Fear. About a year ago, she started complaining about monsters. Not knowing what else to do I asked her "Are you sure that they are bad monsters?". "No" she replied. I said "Well maybe you should introduce yourself. Make friends with them." Next thing I know she is in her room saying "HI! My name is Emma. What's your name?" That was the beginning of a short lived friendship between her and Salina (the monsters name).

We've started to use the Monster Spray again. She still isn't 100% convinced that it works but it's so cute to watch her attempt to conquer her fears. I keep the spray bottle in a cabinet that she can get to without help. When she gets nervous about going into her room when it's dark, I hear her pad over to the cabinet, get the spray and pad her way back to her room blowing raspberries and saying "You can't get me monsters! Ppppfffbbbbbtttt!" The other night, she was walking around the house exterminating with her spray and raspberries. On her way to put the spray back in the cabinet, she passed by the back door and with her bottle carefully aimed at the screen and her feet firmly planted on the floor she said, "You wanna get me monsters?!? Oh yeah, well, you can't! Pppppffffbbbbttt!" My brave girl.

I think Tommy has been picking up on her fears. He'll come running to me and say "Scary me, Mommy, scary me.". So I ask what it is and he says "Bad guys.". Anyway, this Monsters/Bad Guys battle went on for a little while last night and the kids were finally and unusually quiet. I went into my bedroom to see what is was they were up to and both of them were quietly sitting on my bed looking at books together. I walked in and said "Hey, what are you guys doing?". Emma looked at me with big eyes, and in a whisper with her finger over her mouth said "Shhhh Mommy! My monsters are sleeping in your bathroom. I don't want you to wake them up!"
She's so dang cute...

Much ado about a mess...

2009-06-23T21:10:00.000-07:00

Monday, I began the process of baking for the wedding that I'm making a cake for this coming Saturday. I'd already made one layer and wanted to work on the strawberry buttercream. Making this recipe is kind of involved. It requires pureeing a pint of strawberries with 2 tablespoons of sugar and then cooking it over low heat until it is reduced to 1/4 cup of syrup. While this was cooking, I started putting the ingredients together for the next cake layer. I didn't feel that the strawberry reduction needed constant supervision as it was on low and I was checking it every few minutes. I had my back to the stove while I was mixing the wet ingredients for the cake with my hand mixer. Ty was putting away the dishes when he glanced over in my direction and calmly said "You're making a mess." I looked down to notice that not only was I NOT making a mess, I had done an unusually good job of keeping all of the ingredients in the mixing bowl. So I looked up at him and said "What mess?". His non verbal response was to chin point to the stove where my strawberry puree was supposed to be slowly reducing. "OH NO!" I yelled. It was boiling over. Darn it! So in an irritated tone I said "Why didn't you say so?!?". He said "I did. I told you that you were making a mess.". Then the argument ensued. I said "Why do you have to make it so difficult?" After complaining about the way he chose to direct my attention to the mess he said "It's 6 o'clock, I'm not talking to you till 6 thirty."
Fine. I figured I needed time to cool off anyway.

Our friends asked us if we wanted to go out for dinner at Chili's. On the way there the clock in the car changed from 6:29 to 6:30. The first thing he asks me is "What are you playing?". I was typing out my thoughts on my phone in the notepad app. I answered "I'm not playing anything.". He obviously thought I was playing a game on my phone. Anyway, I apologized for snapping at him and said "I am not excusing the way I reacted to your statement. But, sometimes I get frustrated in the way you say things in that it makes it so incredibly difficult to talk to you."
He replies with "What should I have said?". I answer "You could've said, 'Your pot is boiling over.'". He says "I didn't see that it was boiling. I saw that you were making a mess.". Then I say, "Or you could've said 'Your pot is bubbling over.'" He says "I didn't see any bubbles. I saw that you were making a mess."
Arrrrgggghhh! Do you see how he makes me work for the pleasure of having a conversation with him? Then I finally say, "You could've said 'Your pot on the stove is making a mess.'You could've been more specific."

As I type this out the whole thing seems silly. I love him and don't want him to change his ways just because I don't understand why he does it or because they frustrate me. But, for goodness sakes, sometimes it DOES get frustrating. This is just one example of how he makes me work for it. I'm not exactly sure why but, damn it, I sure do love him.

By the way, everything was fine. No one stayed angry. He went to see the new Transformers movie with his Nerd Herd last night...AT MIDNIGHT. Needless to say, I didn't sleep well. I never do when he's gone.

DISCLAIMER: This exchange of events is reported from my memory only. Other parties involved were not available to give their statement of accounts. Accuracy cannot be guaranteed.

Little girl, BIG dreams...

2009-06-22T08:54:00.000-07:00

Right after I gave birth to Tommy, Emma's world ceased to exist as she knew it. She turned 3 on the day I brought him home from the hospital. There were all sorts of people visiting and so many new things in the house, I'm sure her head was spinning. The most intriguing thing to her was my breast pump. She would sit and watch me express milk and ask questions like, "Mommy, what is that?". "A pump, so mommy can get milk for Tommy." I answered. "Can I have some?" She asks. "No honey, mommy makes special milk just for Tommy. It's only for little babies." I answer. "Oh..." She says. I thought that was the end of it.

Things start to settle down after a couple of weeks and she stopped asking questions but still liked to sit with me and listen to the 'wah, wah' of the pump.
And then, it happened. Luckily, my husband caught it on video.

Interview with a Daughter

2009-06-19T19:20:00.000-07:00

The following transcript is an interview with my daughter Emma. Her answers have been recorded verbatim. I got this idea from a friend of mine who posted her son's answers on Facebook. I have to say, it's pretty cute.

Me: "What is your favorite cereal?"
Emma: "Chocolate Cereal."
Me: "What is your favorite vegetable?"
Emma: "Carrots."
Me: "What is your favorite drink?"
Emma: "Um...um...giggle...um...he-he, fruit punch." She was laughing because I was typing all of her "um's".
Me: "What is your favorite toy?"
Emma: "Um...my kitchen." I found this funny because she told me not long ago that she didn't like it anymore.
Me: "What is your favorite TV Show?"
Emma: "XD, no, no I mean Five Zero" This means channel 50 which over here is Cartoon Network. Initially she said XD but then she said "Never mind I don't care about it, I just like five zero." I have no idea what XD is.
Me: "What is your favorite game?"
Emma: "Indigo Prophesy." This is some strange, complex game that Ty downloaded on Xbox. This proves that our children surpass our knowledge because although I've been known to Halo it up my hubby, I have absolutely no Idea how to even begin to play this game.
Me: "What is your favorite book?"
Emma: "Color books." She is talking about the 'Help me be good' series of books. They are books about all types of mis-behaviors. Interesting answer.
Me: "What is your favorite Restaurant?"
Emma: "Red lobster." I can't remember the last time we ate there. It must have been at least a year ago.
Me: "Why?"
Emma: "Cause I like to see the lobsters, the real ones." Of course! Who goes to Red Lobster to eat?
Me: "What is your favorite holiday?"
Emma: "Valentines Day." She definitely takes after her Grammy. Besides it's only days after her birthday.
Me: "What is your favorite animal?"
Emma: "Elephant."
Me: "Why?"
Emma: "Cause I love them, but I only love stuffed animals, that's what it is."
Me: "If you could change your name, what would you choose?"
Emma: "Emily."
Me: "What do you love most about Mommy?"
Emma: "You're sweet and I like it when you make breakfast and dinner and lunch."
Me: "What do you love most about Daddy?"
Emma: "He is sweet too and he makes lunch when you're not there."
Me: "What do you love most about Tommy?"
Emma: "He likes to play with me and I like to ride bikes with him."
Me: "Where would you like to go on vacation this year?"
Emma: "Um...why do you keep typing um? To see Poppy and Abby and Paw Paw Woody and Aunt Mel." Can you tell who calls our house most often?
Me: "What are some of your wishes for this year?"
Emma: "A new kitchen." Ahhh, now I get it. She likes playing with her kitchen but she wants a remodel.
Me: "What is your favorite thing about our house?"
Emma: "Playing on the big TV." This means the Xbox or the Playstation. Refer back to the favorite game question.
Me: "What is your favorite room in our house?"
Emma: "My room."
Me: "Why?"
Emma: "Cause it's fun and I like to play on my piano."
Me: "Who is your best friend?"
Emma: "Jesse and Keanu."
Me: "What are you most thankful for?"
Emma: "Cake for my birthday and um... oh no, I forgot about my water animals."

While performing this interview we were waiting for the Magic Grow Capsules Sea Animal Edition to transform.
I think I'll ask her the same questions in about a year and maybe even do the same for Tommy.

DAMN-IT MOMMY!

2009-06-18T13:33:00.000-07:00

Everything seemed to be going well last night while going through our nighttime routine. Tommy was in the living room watching the end of 'Tale of Desperaux' and Emma went with Ty to bring Maria home. I went in to the living room and noticed that the sliding screen door had been knocked off the track and the back door was open. I asked Tommy if he broke the door. He said "No. da-dee bug." I said "Ladybug?" (She's our dog) He responded "Yeah, da-dee bug." Please keep in mind that he is still trying to master the English language. I looked over and sitting sweetly in front of the TV was Ladybug. Laying there as if it was so normal and natural, just part of her everyday life. Apparently something spooked her (probably fireworks or a car backfiring). She really is a sweet dog. Tommy went over and sat next to her pointing to and naming all of her parts. Eyes, ears, nose, mouth, etc. She just sat there sweetly letting him poke and prod her.

Ty got home and Emma had fallen asleep in the car so, of course she went straight to bed, which left me with just Tommy to read books to and tuck in. I told Ty about the screen door and while he was fixing it I put Tommy in his bed and told him to wait there while I went to get something in the hall. He called "Mommy" while I was exiting his room. I called back "Hold on Tommy I'll be right back.", then he called "Mommy" again with a little more volume. I called back "Hang on just a minute baby boy." Then he finally yelled out "Damn-it Mommy!" Poor little guy doesn't know how to voice his frustrations. Of course he learned this from his parents. I went back in his room and explained that 'Damn-it' was not a nice word and not to say it again. Then he said something along the lines of "I ont sum awa pees, Mommy." Translation : "I want some water please, Mommy." I swear when he says "Pees Mommy?" My heart melts every time. He is so adorable. We read his favorite book and when I went to give him a hug and a kiss, he said "Tight, tight, Mommy." He wanted me to hug him tighter. Gosh, if I hugged him as tight as I wanted to, he would break. I said "I'll see you in the morning." and he responded with "I due." which is his version of I love you. Again, the cuteness is a survival mechanism.

Comma to the top

2009-06-10T08:25:00.000-07:00

I was born and raised in Louisiana. Most everyone there has some sort of accent. Northern and Western Louisiana has a twangy accent (being so close to Texas). Southern Louisiana has a Cajun french accent. Eastern Louisiana has an accent that has kind of a New York/Chicago sound to it. But, there are some people that make up their own version of the English language.

My brother told me a story involving one of these people. I will attempt to re-tell this story now.So, my brother is waiting in line at the blood bank. There is a woman in line ahead of him. The receptionist asks "Hi ma'am, what is your name?". She replies "R'nez". The receptionist asks politely "Can you spell that for me?". Then with annoyance in her voice she answers (I will try to spell this phonetically) "Ah-ra comma t-da top N-E-Z."

I laughed so hard that I thought I might split in two. Comma to the top. Of course what she meant was apostrophe but I guess a new term for that is comma to the top. What's next? Double comma to the top for quotations? I couldn't help but share this one. It was just too funny.

We went to the zoo...

2009-06-08T11:52:00.000-07:00

And had alot of fun. The kids really enjoyed looking at the animals or as Tommy says it 'Amimos'. Emma's favorite was the flamingos, because they are pink of course.

Tommy was arguing with the stroller about which way to go.

Emma and Tommy liked watching the fish swim in the hippo water.

Emma doing her best impression of a Sabertooth cat.

We even got to watch the Polar bear poop carrots. I didn't know that carrots were found in the artic. It was fun!

Proud of my girl...

2009-06-05T08:07:00.000-07:00

My little girl will be starting kindergarten in the fall. I have to say that being in preschool has put her a little ahead of the game. Some of the credit belongs to Ty and me. I have read to her every night since she was about 18 months old and Ty is constantly taking advantage of teaching opportunities. But, for me, this takes the cake! Emma came home from school one day and said the name of our new President. Ty decided to teach her who the Vice President and Speaker of the House were. From there, knowing that she has a knack for memorizing things, I decided to start teaching her the rest of the cabinet. This is how we've come so far...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JkRr8jH3Q8I

Woah...

2009-05-27T21:43:00.000-07:00

I asked Emma who was in this picture. She said "Tommy and Me.".

Who do you think it is?

It's me and my little brother. Well, he's not so little anymore. In fact he's taller than me. Wow... It's really all I can say...

Talkative Tommy

2009-05-20T08:40:00.000-07:00

Tommy's favorite book is Dr. Seuss's ABC's. My favorite part of the book is the letter 'P' because the way he recites this part is so flippin' cute! I have attached a video link for your viewing pleasure.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zt_5qN3tUO0

Oppression

2009-05-19T08:30:00.000-07:00

Merriam Webster defines the word oppression by saying it is an 'unjust or cruel exercise of authority or power'. That said, I was listening to a morning radio show this morning and they were talking about TV shows the listeners were not allowed to watch as children. One woman called in and said that her mother would not let her watch 'The Flintstones'. "What could possibly be wrong with 'The Flintstones'?" the radio show host asked. She replied with some cockamame nonsense about Wilma being opressed. She went on to say that Fred was always yelling at her (you remember 'WILMAAAA!') and how Wilma was always cooking and cleaning and said that it was sexist. This does not sound like oppression to me. This sounds like a woman taking care of her man. Oh this poor woman. If she only knew. Then, she went on to say that she does not allow her husband to watch 'Family Guy'. Allow?!? I agree that 'Family Guy' is disgusting, degrading, vulgar TV trash, but to say her husband is 'not allowed' to watch it is ludacris! It kind of makes you wonder what else she doesn't allow him to do, say, watch, or feel. What else does she withhold from him? That poor man chose the wrong woman. He is going to be miserable for the rest of his marraige...if it lasts. He probably sneaks out of bed at night just to watch the TV show. What else do you think he might be sneaking out of bed for? It's this 'oppressed woman' mentality that is part of the reason why most marraiges and families are broken. Instead of putting her husbands needs and desires first, she demands things from him and gives him rules and limitations. You can't tell me that there hasn't been a yelling match between this woman and her husband at least once. Everyone gets frustrated now and then. Oh, wait, she might not allow him to raise his voice for fear of being oppressed.

I don't believe Wilma is oppressed. She is proud to be taking care of her man. And all this about her cooking and cleaning and how it's demeaning...BALONEY! She is taking care of him, and I bet it makes her happy. And who knows what goes on behind closed doors if you know what I mean. There is nothing more satisfying than taking care of the most important person in your life. I'll bet that woman isn't happily married. Correction: I'll bet her husband is miserable.

Just an Update

2009-05-18T07:50:00.000-07:00

So, Saturday, Emma had her first 'practice' recital of the year. It amazes me every time. She fools around in her dance class and seems to have trouble paying attention and following along. But, when it comes time to get on stage and perform, she's brilliant. Her rhythm and timing and her execution of all of the steps are great! My hypothesis is that she knows all of the steps and songs that they dance to in class and doing them over and over again is boring. When it comes time to get all dolled up in her costume and hop on stage for 'the real thing' she turns it on full blast. What an awesome little girl. I just need to figure out how to get her to focus and pay attention in class. Does this sound like someone you know?

We got a postcard in the mail from the school she'll be attending in the fall. Kindergarten. Wow. Do you remember when Kinder was just a stepping stone to help kids prepare for First Grade? Well the postcard was sent to inform us that Emma has a Kindergarten entry assessment. An entry assessment?!? Fortunately, Emma is a pretty smart kid so I don't think she'll have any problems. My friend, Cindy, is a teacher and is always giving me advice on what to teach her to get her ready for Kinder. She's been reading for a few months now and knows some very basic math. I downloaded a Dolch Sight words list and decided to see how much she knew. The list is broken up into five segments. Pre-K, Kinder, First, Second and Third. She knew them all. She corrected herself on a few of them but for the most part blew through the whole list. She never ceases to amaze me.

As for Tommy, he has recently started beating me up. I guess he hasn't learned his boundaries yet. I'm sure that he and Daddy rough-house at least once per day for fun, but I do not find this amusing. He like to punch me and say 'YA!' as if he were performing some complex Karate move. He pulls my hair, pinches me, I could go on. Maybe he just wants my attention and after a day of horsing around with Daddy, doesn't quite know how to switch gears. He'll get it eventually. He's a tough kid.

Paying it Forward

2009-05-01T08:26:00.000-07:00

I loved this movie. The concept that the little boy came up with is genius. So, today I had an opportunity to pay it forward. I was on the trolley 2 stops away from my destination when the trolley Officer hopped on board asking for tickets and passes. I pulled out my wallet and showed him my pass for April. He brought this to my attention and so I pulled out my April pass and showed him the one for May. There was a teenage girl sitting across from me who pulled out her pass and showed it to the officer. He said, "That is for last month. Today is the 1st of May." She was clearly taken by surprise. He went on to explain to her that she needed to get off at the next station and by herself a ticket and that she needed to realize that the citation would have cost $125. After the trolley officer went about his business, her eyes welled up with tears as she called her dad. She explained to her dad that it was a new month and she only had $1 on her and that she didn't know what to do. I tapped her on the leg and asked her how far she needed to go. She said America Plaza (4 stops away). I told her that I would buy her ticket. She told her dad and got off the phone. We got off the trolley and I pulled out my bank card but the ticket machine didn't take credit cards. So, I ran across the street to the 7-eleven ATM machine. When I came back with my new crisp $20 bill I put it in the machine. The trolley Officer standing nearby explained that the largest bill the ticket machine took was a $10. Argh! So I ran back to the 7-eleven and bought a pack of gum and ran back across the street to help this poor girl. Success! I bought her a $5 day pass so that she wouldn't be stranded in the afternoon. She said that if she ever saw me again that she would pay me back. I told her "No, you'll get to help someone else out someday." I gave her a hug and bounced off to work. Nothing like doing a good deed to start your morning off right! So, I say, pay it forward. I hope that I made an impression on this girl and I hope that she never forgets to help people in need. I'm not talking about just giving money to a homeless person on the street. I'm talking about recognizing a situation when someone really needs help and it's the type of help that you can provide.

Love & Marriage...Horse & Carriage

2009-04-29T11:09:00.000-07:00

I was talking to someone today and telling him that he should just marry his girlfriend already. They've been together 5 years and he is still 'thinking about it'. I said the problem with that is that either one of them could get up and walk away at anytime with no legal obligation or consequence. His retort was 'That's the beauty of it. You don't have to get married. You can live together, have kids and never have to be married.' Well, I didn't know exactly how to respond so I didn't say anything. But, it got me thinking. Why do I think that this is wrong? I'm not a very religious person so I can't say that's the reason. I do consider myself relatively conservative, though not as conservative as my husband. So, my reason for this being wrong is this: The children. That's it, just the kids. What kind of example are we setting for our children if we don't get married and just get up and leave when things get rough? The underlying message that they receive is that they don't matter enough for you to stick around and work it out. The only legal obligation we have is to pay child support. There is no law that says you have to 'raise' your children (although there should be). Of course our legal system has made it pretty simple to just get up and leave a marriage anyway. It just seems like people don't put the effort into marriage anymore. They look at the wedding as a great big 'look at me' party and expect the marriage to be 'perfect' afterwards. You know, knight in shining armour/princess in the castle. Real fairy tales aren't like this at all. You either create your fairytale or create your nightmare. It really is what you make it. I got married and always told myself that I would never have the option of divorce no matter how hard things got. Because I knew how damaging it was to me as a child. At the beginning of my parents separation/divorce I just thought I was a bad child. I behaved badly and made lots of poor choices that at the time I attributed to being a bad child. In hindsight I know that it was the lack of focus on my parents marriage that was the real problem. Don't get me wrong, I don't wish to change anything. I'm glad things turned out the way they did. I learned a lot about independence and how to deal with things on my own. I'm now able to look back on that chapter of my life and feel ok about it. And, it could've been worse; much, much worse. Granted, I took the 'scenic route' but I think I turned out OK. At least Ty thinks so. It really all boils down to choices. You can choose to be happy or choose to be sad. You can choose to work honestly or you can choose to steal. You can choose to live within your means or you can choose to acquire debt. So, I choose to be happy, work honestly, live within my means and to stay HAPPILY married no matter what.

Does it hurt?

2009-04-16T09:32:00.001-07:00

I wonder if being tired as a child causes physical pain. Last night, during Emma's shower, she screamed and yelled giving me a deluge of complaints. From missing me while I was at my cake class to not wanting to take a shower to not wanting to wash her hair to her lip hurts, her tummy hurts, her leg hurts, etc, etc, etc. After her shower, I was helping her put on her pajamas. Of course the complaints continued with big fat tears. She complained that her sides hurt, her lip hurt, stc, etc, etc. At this point I knew she was exhausted because this is completely out of character for her. I had her sit on the stool in front of her vanity so I could dry her hair. All the while she complained. The she finally said, "Mommy, can I have a pillow please?". So, I grabbed one of the throw pillows from her bed and gave it to her. She put her head down and was asleep before her head hit the pillow. It just makes me wonder if al of her complaints about pain were real. Does it really hurt to be that tired?

Will it ever end?

2009-03-05T21:08:00.000-08:00

January 23, 2009
Had emergency surgery to have a foreign object removed from my abdomen. Four days of pain medication.
February 14, 2009
Took Emma to the Doctor because she was complaining of a sore throat. Turns out she had strep throat and pink eye. Ten days of oral antibiotics and five days of eye drops.
February 21, 2009
Emma breaks out in a terrible rash. A trip to the doctor and we find out that this is an after effect of having the strep infection. Three days of antihistamines.
February 26, 2009
While at our friends going away party, Ty is suffering quietly with a very sore throat.
One night and seven beers.
March 4, 2009
Sent home by my boss because I have a terrible cough and fever. Call the Doctor and make an appointment for the next day.
March 5, 2009
I stay home from work because of my cough and fever. While at home with the kids, I notice that Tommy is warm. Thermometer reads 102 so I call the Doctor and get him in for an appointment. Two Doctor's appointments and four prescriptions.
March 5, 2009 (evening)
Emma has a low temperature.

I should invest in the pharmaceutical companies.
Please let it end soon....

Check out Buttercups

2009-02-06T06:22:00.000-08:00

New cupcake posted on Buttercups.
http://buttercup-cakes.blogspot.com/

What's wrong with this picture?

2009-02-03T21:08:00.000-08:00

Can you find it? No, it's not the missing parrot piece. No, it's not the Koi fish in a too small bowl.

This is a child's toy. Obviously a child would not point this out. A 2 year old doesn't know the first thing about procreation. Only their parents whose minds live in the gutter would point out something like this on a child's toy.

It's almost as bad as the bowl that Emma used to have that had a cow on it. I won't go into details but it was clearly a phallic symbol. Darn marketing companies...I've heard that sex sells but this is ridiculous.

By the way, it's the mice. Maybe the next puzzle we get will have hundreds of little baby mice to put together.

A swing in a tree

2009-01-15T08:14:00.000-08:00

My dad visited us for the holidays. We had a wonderful time and thanks to him we were able to get a few projects done that had been on the back burner for a while. Emma and Tommy have so much fun on the swings that have been hung on the tree in our back yard. Yes, swing sets are fun but there is something nostalgic (for me) about a swing in a tree. It reminds me of my Granny and Poppy (I miss them both terribly) in Breaux Bridge Louisiana. There was a huge tree in their back yard. I cannot remember if it was a Pecan or Oak tree. But, I do remember the swing. It's long ropes hanging down from the branch way up top. It seemed to me at the time only someone as magical as my Poppy could get up that high to set it there. I can only wonder if Emma's perspective is the same. Though the tree looks average size to me, does it look monstrous and impossibly huge to her? I remember the fig tree with it's plump purplish fruit hanging from the branches that also adorned huge leaves that looked like something from Jurassic times. There was a rain gauge on the fence in the backyard that I loved to investigate after a weeks worth of rain. Adjacent to the carport, there was an apartment-like kitchen that was used for storage and extra space for large family gatherings. We used to make homemade ice cream there. As clearly as if it happened yesterday, I remember the sound of the machine as it whined with each turn of the paddle and the taste of the rock salt that I couldn't help but put the beautiful sparkling crystals to my lips. I remember the sound of their laughter and the way it made me feel. I used to sit and watch 'Young and the Restless' with my Granny. I wonder if the green floral print blanket that I used to wrap myself up in is still around. There was something so comforting about the smell of that blanket.
A very dear friend of mine gave me a much different perspective on memories. She said that when you think of people you miss the most, it's their way of visiting you when you miss them. Ever since she told me this, I have stopped being sad or lonely when I remember them. I cherish the memories I have with them and I hope that I am able to impart this valuable knowledge on my children.

16.5 hours...

2008-12-31T07:35:00.000-08:00

In 16.5 hours another year will come to a close and a new one will show it's beautiful face. Wow. Christmas was a lot better than I expected this year. I was a little nervous because of our decision not to exchange gifts among the adults but it was wonderful. I never realized how stressed out I was trying to buy a gift for this person or that. This year I focused on feeding my family with yummy belly warming food. We had Prime Rib (thanks to Gigi), Carrot Souffle (My Dad's suggestion), Sour Cream Corn (Aunt Mel's recipe), Mashed Potatoes, French Onion Cauliflower (My Dad's Contribution), Candied Yams (Nana's recipe), and Green Bean Casserole (of course). Some of these I've made so many times I can make it from memory. The kids had a great time and got some wonderful gifts. Maybe next year it'll be a little more low key (with the gift giving). I'm thinking that the kids should only get 1 gift from each person, instead of multiple. I would also like to start a tradition where the kids pick out a few toys from their room on Christmas Eve to leave out for Santa to 'recycle'. Out with the old, in with the new! I'm babbling. This post is not as interesting as others but I felt I needed to write. Happy New Year Everyone!

My Little Blonde Angel

2008-12-19T14:07:00.000-08:00

I'm sure that you've noticed that Emma gets alot of airtime on my blog. As usual Tommy gets the back burner. I guess I feel a little guilty for not ever writing about just him. So here goes.
He is so sweet. He hates to go to bed and cries (yelling MAMA! for up to half an hour) every night. He even throws his board books out of his bed (they make a loud thud on the hard-wood floor that sounds like he fell out of the crib) hoping that this will make me come back to him. He is always happy to see me and loves to give hugs. He lets me eat up his legs. Those scrumptious little chubby legs. He is starting to talk more every day. He loves to eat. Anything, anytime. He loves bathtime and when I say 'Come on Tommy, it's time to take a bath.' he throws his hands up in the air and yells his version of 'BATHTIME!'. He loves lotion on his belly and can never resist tasting it. Every time. Even thought he knows it's tastes yucky, he has to put his lotion covered hand in his mouth. It must be laced with some addiction inducing drug. We read books and talk every night before bed. After we read, I turn him around on my lap to face me and I ask him about his day. He babbles on and on in a language only he can understand. I nod and say 'Did you have fun?' and he enthusiastically nods a big wide eyed 'Yes'. Then he tells me something about a ball and Daddy. I assume he is saying that he played ball with Daddy. I don't really care what he is saying anyway, I just love watching him talk. Then we say goodnight, give kisses and then he puts his head on my shoulder and sings. Who knows what song but I love it. Only one word can describe the way I feel about him. LOVE. Totally, completely, utterly, absolutely, perfectly in LOVE.

Drama Princess...

2008-12-17T08:38:00.000-08:00

Last night Emma and I stayed up late to make Christmas Cookies (see photos on Buttercups). I told her before we went to bed that i would be waking her up early to take a shower because it was too late to shower. We brushed our teeth, read books and went to bed. When it was time to wake up (about 5:45 am) I went to her room to wake her up. I whispered in her ear 'Emma, it's time to get up and take a shower.'. She said 'No mommy, you said I could shower in the morning, it's still dark.'. I said 'I know Emma, it is morning the sun just isn't up yet.' She promptly tore the covers back, jumped out of bed, stormed down the hallway with clenched fists, went to the back door, pulled back the curtain, pointed outside and said, 'See mommy, it's dark outside, it's not morning yet!' How could I argue? I said, 'OK, go back to bed.' and I started back down the hall to the bathroom. She stopped me halfway, rubbed her tummy and said. 'Mommy, can you make me something to eat, I'm really hungry.' I told her that we had to take a shower first and then she could eat. Then my agreeable little girl said 'OK mommy.' She is so darn cute and I love that she knows (or at least thinks she does) how to prove her point.

Her dance recital was this weekend. Still working on a video so stay tuned.

Emma Grace Schaeffer Rose

2008-11-26T09:13:00.000-08:00

So yesterday while I was driving Emma to school, we were discussing the proper spelling of all of her names. She spelled "E-M-M-A" then we went on to "G-R-A-C-E" then to "S-C-H-A-E-F-F-E-R". She had trouble with this one so we sung our last name to to a little tune to help her remember how to spell it. After talking about this for a little while, she proclaimed that 3 names is not enough and that she has to have 4 names. She then said "My name is Emma Grace Schaeffer Rose." How could I argue with such a pretty name? After all she is as pretty as a rose.
And I have to say that my little girl has some pretty awesome manners. The other night, I was enjoying a small after dinner treat. Every few minutes, she would crane her neck to see if my bowl was empty. When my bow finally was empty, she got up, took my bowl and spoon and put it in the sink. What a sweet girl I have. It may seem like a little thing to you, but to me it shows that she has great observation skills and will be a wonderful care-taker. She is eager to help with anything and is always looking for praise (which I try to give her at every opportunity). She always says "Please" and "Thank you", "Bless-you" and "Your Welcome". She constantly says "I have the best family." or "You're the best mommy." I'm so proud of this little girl. There are few moments in motherhood where you feel like you are doing something right or that you are doing enough. It's times like this that remind me that I'm doing alright. Of course I've made mistakes and there will be many more to make. But more often than not, she makes me feel like a good mom.

PS: Emma and her class made a Thanksgiving banner. On it the teacher wrote all the things that the kids were thankful for. Some kids were thankful for food, others for toys. Emma was thankful for her family. Gosh, what this little girl could teach some people.

Madonna, Madonna, Madonna...

2008-11-17T11:23:00.001-08:00

My bestest girlfriend Cindy and I went to see Madonna. She is a phenomenal performer. We had a blast! It was really awesome to hear all of the songs that we grew up with. The best part was that she added a twist to the music. When did she learn to play guitar? Thanks Cin for the great time!

The Great Southern California Shake Out

2008-11-17T07:45:00.000-08:00

At 10:00 am on Thursday, November 13th, the largest earthquake emergency preparedness drill in US history took place in Southern California. Millions of people throughout Southern California participated in the ShakeOut Drill. The shake out drill was based on studies made by over 300 scientists from the US Geological Survey. Every public school in Southern California participated, including the one that Emma attends. When I returned home from work on Thursday, Emma explained to me what happened at school. She said with great enthusiasm, "Mommy! We had an earthquack today! We had to get under the tables and hold on! Then, the earthquack lady came on the speaker and said 'All Clear' and then we could get out." So, I asked her, "What is an earthquack?". She answered, "It's when everything shakes and you fall down. And you have to get under the table so you don't get hurt." Thankfully we have an earthquack expert in the house now. I'm glad someone knows what to do.

Buttercups

2008-11-13T13:32:00.000-08:00

It's here! A blog containing a pictoral of all of my cupcakes. This one will not be updated as often as Mama Duck but I'll email updates when there are new pics.

http://buttercup-cakes.blogspot.com/

More than a Mouthful...

2008-11-06T13:18:00.000-08:00

...I tend to bite off more than I can chew. I guess people think I make great cupcakes so I have had 3 requests. Two for this Saturday and one for December 6th. This is great but I can't just make a cupcake and throw some frosting on it. It has to be spectacular...amazing...stupendous! I get an idea in my head and I just have to make it work. I end up spending more money than they are worth but it's so much fun for me. I love it when I can make something for someone and they are absolutely wow-ed. It really gives me a feeling of accomplishment and self-worth.
My full-time paying job gives me that on occasion but not as often as I'd like. Working with numbers is difficult for me as it is and sometimes I feel inadequate because it takes me so long to find my 'ah-ha'. But, I get it eventually. My job is great but not quite as much fun as making cupcakes. Isn't that just like any 'job'? As soon as it gets the 'job' label it's no fun at all...

Stay tuned...I'll be starting a new blog all about cupcakes / cakes.

12 inches...

2008-11-03T14:16:00.000-08:00

...yes I cut it off. Ok people get your mind out of the gutter, we aren't talking about body parts (I'm not of Bobbit decent). I would never do that to my husband. We are talking about my hair. I've been thinking about cutting my hair to donate it to Locks of Love for a while now. I finally got up the courage to do it. Yep, I have short hair. I cut 12.5 inches to be exact. The girl that cut my hair did a wonderful job. It's alot shorter than I thought it would be, but I love it. So, from now on I'm ponytail-less. Let's hope that I don't freak out after the shock wears off. Better yet, lets hope my husband doesn't freak out.

PS. Ty has absolutely no idea that I was planning to do this.

November 4th, 2008

2008-10-30T08:49:00.000-07:00

I dislike politics. Why is it so darn hard to find real unbiased answers? You know, Facts. When we got home from Louisiana, we had 12 messages on our answering machine soliciting candidates. Oh, wait, they aren't "soliciting" because they aren't actually selling anything. That's why they are allowed to call you even your phone number is on the 'do-not-call' list. Apparently the 'do-not-call' list means that people are not allowed to call unless they have already had some sort of transaction with you or if they aren't selling anything. Technically, they are selling something. A candidate. Any they want my vote as payment. Stop calling me. Your call is not going to sway me or make me change my mind. I assume they obtained my phone number from my voter registration.

Sunday, a man called our house and asked me if I was voting for Marty Block for California State Assembly. I said 'Sorry, you have the wrong number, there is no Marty Block here.'. He said 'No, No, No ma'am, Marty Block is running for California State Assembly and I was calling to see if we can count on your vote.'. Ty was sitting next to me on the couch so I turned and asked him if he knew Marty Block. He said 'Isn't he that criminal?' The guy on the other end of the phone said 'He's a criminal???' He started to explain again who Marty Block was. I gotta give it to this guy for being patient. So I say 'Ohhhh, he's that news caster guy, right?' The poor guy on the other end says 'I didn't know he was a news caster.'. He still hadn't caught on. Finally he asked 'Ma'am, are you Democrat or Republican?'. So I confidently answer 'Oh no, no, no you've got it all wrong. I'm Heterosexual.' He finally catches on and says 'Ok, ma'am. Have a nice night.'

Now, I don't know if he felt bad because he thought I was really dumb or if he figured out that I was playing with him. Either way I don't really care.
STOP CALLING ME!

Halloween

2008-10-29T11:34:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I have a few things to say about Halloween.
First, I have noticed that Halloween has become the one day every year that women are given permission to dress like skanky you-know-whats. Sexy, firefighter, nurse, bumblebee, witch, cheerleader, angel, devil, Cinderella, Snow White, pirate, ladybug, leprechaun, and the list goes on...
Second, these costumes are being made for and marketed to the younger crowd. Like 11 and 12 year old girls. What happened to good ole' fashioned creativity? From this day forward I vow to have my kids participate in the making of their costumes.

Lastly, I will tell you the story of our costume situation for this year. Every year I want to dress in costume and have Ty participate also. It doesn't always work out because of our busy lives and we just end up taking the kids trick-or-treating in plainclothes. But being that I would be turning 30 this year I really wanted to dress up and do something fun. After searching through the endless amounts of SEXY costumes that I don't have the body to wear anymore, I ran across some cute ideas. I decided to be a flower in a pot. I made a head piece with pink tulle, cut out the bottom of a huge plastic terracotta pot and added felt suspender straps. Bought a long-sleeved green shirt and green shorts and will wear brown tights and shoes. It turned out really cute. Emma will be a butterfly this year so we will compliment each other nicely. I decided to make a gnome cap for Tommy and dress him up in a plaid shirt and overalls. And then there's Ty. Yes, my poor creativity-lacking husband. He said that he would shop around to find things to dress up as a gardener. I thought that a gardener would tie our 'family costume' together very well. So I thought he would be getting a plaid shirt and overalls at the thrift store, wear his straw hat and his Crocs and he would be a gardener. Boy was I wrong.

I came home last night and he said, 'Let me show you what I got today.'. He said, 'I couldn't find overalls and didn't really want to wear jeans so I thought I'd be a florist instead of a gardener.' 'OK', I said, 'Let me see.' Out of this black plastic shopping bag (I recognized it from the thrift store down the hill) he pulls out an orange polo shirt that has some environmental logo on the front, a green pair of 2XL women's capri pajama pants, a pink tye-dye bandanna, a polka-dot purse, a pink and purple feather boa and a pair of periwinkle blue, lace 2xl crotchless panties. A FLORIST?!? I don't know any florist that dresses this way even the ones in Hillcrest. So he proceeds to put on the apparel that he bought. I won't describe to you what he looked like. He mentioned that the lady at the check-out counter was giving him strange looks. Well, for heavens sakes, I can't imagine why. I know I would be eyeing a man with 2 kids at a thrift store buying periwinkle blue, lace crotchless panties. I gave him an 'A' for effort. Poor thing. I felt bad. He was so cute showing me his purchases. I honestly believe that he wouldn't be comfortable in it anyway.

We ended up at Wal-Mart, oops, I mean Walton's buying sweatpants, a thermal shirt and red felt. He will be a garden gnome, like Tommy. Maybe I'll let him wear the crotchless panties over his sweatpants. It might add a little flair to his costume.

Hello? Oh Hi 30, you're early...

2008-09-29T21:54:00.000-07:00

...I didn't expect you for a few more weeks.

I'm rapidly approaching 30 (I hope my local readers show up to my super awesome party. If you didn't get an invite, send me an email.). So far, I think I've taken it pretty well. I don't feel 30, I'm told I don't look 30 and I know I don't act 30. But tonight I discovered 3 things that are definitely signs that I'm turning the big three-oh.
While shaving my legs in the shower tonight, I noticed the usual scratches and bruises that I get because I'm clumsy. I have honorably passed this trait down to my 4 year old as our legs often match. At least she always enthusiastically points it out, 'Look Mommy, you have a boo boo on your leg just like me!' I was being cautious not to run over the scratches with my razor for fear of taking the scab off and making it bleed again. I put my self in the weird backwards leg position (the one only ladies are familiar with) twisting my body one way and my leg the other. You must be in this position to achieve optimum hair removal. In doing this, I noticed a weird blue line on the back of my leg. I initially thought that Tommy must have attempted to make my leg part of his doodle du jour. I attempted to scrub it with my loofah to no avail. What the hell was this stuff? I know that permanent marker is permanent but jeez! This stuff wouldn't budge. I stuck my leg our of the shower to get a better look. Ladies and Gentleman, I discovered that this was not a product of my son's fine artwork, it's a vein. Where did it come from? How did it just pop up overnight? Maybe I'm just paying closer attention lately? Next, while toweling off, I put my hair in one of those turban things and looked in the mirror. I leaned a little closer to find...Wanna guess? Yep, wrinkles. Perfectly placed on the sides of each of my eyes. Ok, I admit it, you have to look REALLY close, but I saw them, I swear! Shortly after finding my protruding vein and my crows feet, I found the ever age defining Gray Hair. Well, I guess that's it. I'm officially old. Not old in the sense that I'm knocking on heavens (or hells) door. But old as in I probably couldn't pull off a panache mini dress and swanky heels in a night club anymore. Not that I would want to. But, it would be nice to have the body I had when I married the man of my dreams. Thank goodness he loves me anyway.
So, here I am, veiny, stretch marked, wrinkled and grey. Hopefully, Ty won't notice. I sure as hell won't tell him. Boy do I have him fooled!

Carnival Cupcakes

2008-09-27T10:07:00.000-07:00

My carnival cupcake masterpiece is complete and has come together beautifully.

Expletive Deleted

2008-09-26T08:35:00.000-07:00

Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Stupid M*&%F*#%$, A&(^&H*&E.....

Ok, now that I've got that out I can begin my entry in a more civilized state of mind.
Men. They are lovely creatures most of the time. Strong and handsome; sweet and caring, everyday run of the mill, Grade A, 100% US Prime male. When in a relationship (emotional or operational) with one of these fine specimens, he is your protector/advocate, your rock/supporter; amongst other roles. But why is it that when something upsets the apple cart, they get all bent out of shape about it? Moping around acting as if the weight of the world is on their shoulders and heaven forbid that you ask them a simple question. You may find yourself headless. I understand that they need space and time occasionally, but being in a legally bound contractual relationship where you both are responsible for the care of minor children or an appointed assignment, it's essential that you communicate daily; regardless of how basic that communication may be. Then when you express your displeasure of the attitude that you receive from them, they get even more upset and clam up for a day or four. When will I understand how this whole thing works?

As you can see I've been getting it from both sides this week. At work and at home.
For me, stewing doesn't help so I get it out, and get over it. And, retaliating only makes things worse. So, with my husband, I do what I think is the right thing. I bring his coffee and vitamins to him like I do almost every morning. I want him to know that no matter how rough the road may become, that I will always love and take care of him. My hope is in continuing my morning routine, my actions will speak for themselves. With my colleague, I just try to understand and be sensitive even though it might be challenging sometimes. All I can do is give them the space that they need. I just wish they would ask me for it instead of being big fat stupid dummy heads about it. Being married (legally or occupationally) is not easy. But, as Captain and Tenille said "Love Will Keep us Together" I know that my levees of love will hold up, even when 'It's Raining Men'

Walton's

2008-09-22T10:50:00.000-07:00

I work in the Divisional Offices for one of the leading, high-end fashion retailers. Our offices are in one of our stores; not an off site building. This means that I have to dress with this in mind every day. Even in the offices, it's important to show that you keep up to the minute with the latest styles. Don't get me wrong, they don't discriminate against people who aren't dressed in Haute Couture. Dressing au courant is just highly encouraged. Even with the generous employee discount, buying clothes from my employer is still quite expensive. Working in the Corporate Satellite offices, you have to keep up appearances. You know, help set the example. Unfortunately I cannot nor do I want to spend a great deal of money on clothes. Who says that I can't look fashionable and trendy without paying a disgusting price tag? So I shop at 'Walton's'. This is my secret code name for Wal-Mart. I purchased an adorable brown sweater dress yesterday for $17.00 at 'Walton's'. A comparable dress from my employer would be in excess of $100.00. So when someone at work stops me in the hallway, compliments my outfit and asks me where I got it, I just say Walton's. It's not lying, really. I just altered the name a little. Sure makes Wal-Mart sound fancy, doesn't it?
What I don't understand is why it's so expensive at the department store. Both products are 'Made in China' or who knows where; both from the same or similar material. So, why the hefty price tag? It can't just be the name of the person designing the clothes, can it? But, I guess if some people are willing to pay a pretty penny to wear someone else's name on their body, then who am I to say that's wrong.
For now, I'll just keep smart shopping for the latest fashions at Walton's and spend my hard earned money on things like food and my children's education. You won't tell anyone, will you?

Chubby Baby Legs and Tickle Bug Bites

2008-09-22T08:20:00.000-07:00

When I ask Tommy where Mommy's favorite part is he points to the inside of his leg just above his knee. Then I ask if I can take a bite. His eyes get big, he grins and nods in affirmation. Then I proceed to ever so gently gnaw on the chubbiest, juiciest, squishiest, sweetest part of him. He giggles with delight every time. I know it won't be long before he grows out of his delicious morsels so I savor them as often as I can. Emma gets the tickle bugs. I tell her "What's that? Look, right there...Oh no, you have the tickle bugs! We have to get 'em!" I tickle her until she laughs so hard she can't stand it and it leaves little red marks all over. We call these tickle bug bites. Then we both sigh with relief that all the bugs are gone and cuddle. Even though I don't want to keep them little, I wish I could sometimes for this purpose alone. There is nothing more intoxicating than a child's laughter. So, for now, I will keep munching on his delectable chubby baby legs and exterminating her tickle bugs until they won't let me anymore. Hopefully there will be something sweeter to replace my addiction when this is gone. Otherwise I'll have to go to rehab.

I 'HEART' Sara Bareilles

2008-09-21T20:13:00.000-07:00

In February, a very good friend of mine (thanks again Jay), scored tickets and backstage passes to a James Blunt concert at the Spreckles theatre Downtown. There was only 1 condition. I had to buy a book (The Shack) and give it to James when I saw him backstage. Seemed easy enough and more than a fair trade for free tickets. Sara Bareilles opened for him and it was the first time I had ever heard of her. She was amazing. Her songs were all captivating and before her session was over, I told Ty that I wanted her CD. Of course James Blunt was awesome too, but I enjoyed Sara's music better. The backstage passes were to hang out with James not Sara. I really would've liked to meet her. Oh well. I did my duty and meandered my way through the groupies to get to James to give him the book. After I finally caught his attention, I told him my name, babbled about my mission, handed him the book, turned on my heels and left. I don't know why I was so uncomfortable, he's a normal person, just handsome and rich and famous and talented (and he has soft skin too).

Anyway, Ty purchased the Sara Bareilles CD for me and surprised me by cuing it up so that it would start playing when I got in my car the next morning. I don't think I've stopped listening to it since. Which also means Emma has not stopped listening to it either. She's learned the words to most of the songs on the disc. She absolutely loves to sing her songs and won't allow anyone else to sing them with her. Little Miss Bossy. Notice how she scolds me towards the end. My favorite part is when she says "Drown in your love but not feel your brain" when it should be rain. Here's what you've all been waiting for. Emma singing 'Gravity' by Sara Bareilles:

Afternoon Tea with Grammy and Gigi

2008-09-21T19:29:00.000-07:00

My one and only Grammy has come out to visit us for a few days. She likes fancy things so I thought we would take her out to afternoon tea at the Shakespeare Corner Shoppe. We sat outside on the patio at a cozy little corner table. We were served Cherry and Earl Gray tea. Scones and Double Devonshire cream. An assortment of sandwiches including cucumber, salmon, egg, and ham and an array of different sweets. The lady that served us was English and very charming. The little store that was attached had a bunch of items imported form the UK. I know, this is a boring entry but it's all I've got until later. And of course the picutres below. Don't touch that dial, a video of Emma performing Sara Bareilles coming soon...

The sort of short and very sweet story of us...

2008-09-18T21:45:00.000-07:00

Just so you all know, I'm intentionally leaving out all of the sour parts (the phone bills, the lying, etc...) for the sake of keeping this version shorter and much, much sweeter. I don't need to stir up those vinegary feelings anyway. Especially for the ones that witnessed the whole story.

December 5th 1996. I was 18 and at my aunts house using the computer to meet people in the chat rooms of America Online. The Internet chat rooms were relatively new and it made it easier to meet people. It also made it easier to allow people to think that you were a mind-blowing hottie from the south. It was in the evening and while browsing the seemingly endless amounts of chat rooms, I happened across someone with the screen name luvburro (I learned what luvburro meant years later, it's not what you think and it's not pretty). After reading his profile I decided to send this person an instant message. Gosh, what I would give to have a transcript of that conversation. We talked for a while but it was getting late. He was too interesting to me and I couldn't just let him disappear out into the never world of cyberspace! I had to talk to him. I had to hear his voice. I gave him my phone number. Yes, I gave my phone number to a complete stranger, who I had never met in person or even seen a picture of. I know that he could've been a predator but so could any of the guys in the grimy bars (hear my justification?), so what's the difference? Nevertheless, I told him that I would be home in about an hour and to call me then. Unfortunately, I only remember the exhilarating feelings I had, and nothing about our conversation. My memory is filled with that first love feeling. If I remember correctly, we talked for 6 hours. After that first night, we talked every single day. His voice was deep and soothing and made you feel instantly secure. Even now, when I think of his voice, my stomach flutters a little. He was (and still is, even more so now) intelligent, funny, inspiring, witty, and he knew exactly what to say at exactly the right time. I loved how he made me feel and I liked who I was when I talked to him. And he lived in SAN DIEGO! The funny thing is that being young and naive, I had no idea where San Diego was. It was so new and thrilling it felt like electricity was surging through my body. Waiting by the phone for him to call each day was absolutely excruciating! This was before cell phones were attainable for everyone. We decided to meet and he was kind enough to buy plane tickets for me. I flew out to meet him on January 1st, 1997. New Years Day. My memory of that day and night are vague because of the lack of sleep from the night before. I have no recollection of the plane ride and a very foggy one of dinner with his mom and Ron. His mom took a picture of us that night at dinner. I flew home on January 5th and he flew out to meet my family and pick me up to move back with him on January 18th. We lived happily together for a while and unhappily for a little longer. Chalk it up to being young and foolish, but it was definately a learning experience I could not have obtained any other way. I moved back home and tied up some personal loose ends I had been putting off for a while. A few years go by, and we date other people. Then blah, blah, blah, car accident, blah blah, Beaumont, Texas, B-blah married in Vegas, blah blah, blah blah, move to San Diego, pop out a couple of kids and Abra-Cadabbra, Happy Family!

Not very many people have a photo documenting the momentous night that they first encountered their soul mate. I cherish the picture she took that night. He gave me a framed copy of it for our 5th wedding anniversary and it now I proudly display it in my office by my desk. It reminds me after every valley, there is a bigger mountain to climb. And at the top of each new mountain, the view gets better.

He likes / She Likes

2008-09-17T16:05:00.000-07:00

Function/Style
Fast/Slow
Sneakers/Stuart Weitzman
N95/iPhone
Practical/Pretty
Precice/Abstract
Football/Football
Tidy/Clean
Put away/Orderly
Quiet/Noise
Sunshine/Rain
Power Tools/Kitchen Tools
Simple/Complex
Planning/Instant Gratification
Dark/Light
Save/Spend
Symantics/Fiction
Ripe Watermelon/Ripe Peaches

Theres more, I'm sure, but I couldn't think of any at the moment. A match made in heaven, don't you think? I think we balance each other out nicely. I'm in the process of putting down my memories of when we met so stay tuned...

The grass may look greener...

2008-09-16T11:49:00.000-07:00

...but it's probably brown. This seems to be a topic of discussion lately amongst my fellow bloggers, my family and my friends. Why is it that we always desire to have the things we don't? I know I shouldn't be jealous of my friends for the money, the education or the freedom they have; but I am sometimes. So what? Of course it would be great to not have so much responsibility and to have more money than I need. Why shouldn't I be wishful thinking? Is it because I have two beautiful amazing kids and a magnificent husband? Does that mean I shouldn't think about having other things? So I dream, big deal! What's so bad about that? Is there some statute that says that dreaming is bad? I've never heard one. I'm utterly thankful that I have such a marvelous life. Especially when there are so many people in the world who are without. Sometimes it's hard, emotionally, but for the most part I've got it pretty easy. I don't have to worry about much. Ty takes care of all the money and keeps me informed of anything pertinent. More importantly, he takes care of our kids (extremely well I might add). We both have nice cars and a house on the top of a hill at the end of a cul-de-sac. But I still dream of someday going to and finishing college (unlikely). Maybe becoming a nurse (doubtful). Vacationing in Hawaii, or Fiji, or Tahiti, in a bikini...(probably never). Owning some extremely successful cupcake making business and not have to work another day in my life (impossible). Of course there are other things but I'm sure that you would be bored senseless reading a list all of the things I would like to have or do. A girl can dream right? Why do I want all these things? I don't really. I believe that it's our dreams that keep us grounded. For me, dreaming is kind of like getting away in a fantasy world where everything is perfect. In my dreams everything is handed to me on a gilded plate, fed to me with a silver spoon from a hand covered in precious stones. I know in my head that this is not reality and if it were I don't think I would really like it. There is suprizing satisfaction in doing things for yourself, whatever those things may be.

I've realized that bringing your dreams to fruition takes work and time. Sometimes brutal work and grueling years. Unfortunately, I'm not patient enough nor do I have the drive or the discipline or the determination, etcetera. I could go on and on about the reasons and excuses why I don't attempt to achieve my dreams. Does that make me a weak person? Maybe. Or, maybe not. Maybe I'm happy with those things just being dreams. Or, perhaps I'm just not ready to give it a go. Insert Cliche Here ------> If it's meant to be it will be.

Somethings are just easier for other people. Like the kid in school who struggles to get a 'C' and the other who gets an 'A' without cracking open a book. So, I guess that the thing that was easy for me is finding and falling in love with the man of my dreams. Effortless to create the most beautiful children with him. I gambled hard and took huge risks. I was 18 when I met him on America Online. From the moment I typed my first words to him in the chat room to the time that I flew across the country and saw his gorgeous face for the first time was only 27 days. A mere 19 days later and I had packed up all of my belongings and moved to California. I was taking a chance that had extreme potential for danger. Some people would not be able to make a jump like this with eyes wide open. For all I knew he could have been a serial killer or some other such criminal. But, I guess it's just my personality. It's always been easy for me to make choices that could end up being tragically wrong. For some, it's not so easy to make a decision without a plan or thinking it through. Just like it's not easy for me to apply myself in an educational setting. I've always been a 'by the seat of my pants' kind of girl. Spontaneous. Last Minute. Lucky.

I guess I'll keep dreaming and being thankful. I'm afraid to change anything for fear of losing it all. Until now, I've never really had anything to lose. I've come to accept that I'll NEVER wear a bikini again, I'll always be impulsive, and I'll probably never further my education. I think I'm smart enough to realize that I have worked hard for what I've got thus far and like a diploma, no one can take that away from me. In the end, I guess I'm just thankful for what I don't have.

No Kids Allowed

2008-09-14T12:21:00.000-07:00

So Ty and I went out for well deserved night amongst adults. We were invited to dinner, a comedy show and dessert to celebrate a friends birthday on Saturday Night. Ty's mom (aka GiGi) took the kids for us. We had so much fun. We ate at an amazing italian restaurant and then went to an improv comedy show. The show was sort of like 'Whose line is it anyway?'. But for me, the best part was when we went to Extraordinary Desserts. I'd been to the one in Hillcrest that is set up sort of like a small cafe. But they have since opened a new 'restaurant' style concept. It was amazing. I love to try new things and this is just the place to do it. All of the desserts put a twist on tradition. They have an AWESOME non-alcoholic beverage menu from which I chose the 'American Beauty'; a drink that is made up of rose syrup, lime juice and San Pelligrino, garnished with rose petals. Ty took a picture of me with my Beauty. It was really fun to choose from a variety of mixers that were sans alcohol. I had the Torta-Misu and a scoop of the Salted Caramel Ice Cream. All I have to say is YUM!
After the pasta, laughter and the scrumptious dessert; I ended up being in a sugar coma and Ty took me home to bed.
Why is it that I yearn for a night out without the kids but in then end I can't wait to get home to see their sweet faces?

The Lamp Saga...

2008-09-12T14:17:00.000-07:00

Buying bedside table lamps may seem like a simple thing to you, but not for us. Having two EXTREMELY different tastes sometimes makes for a volatile concoction.

Our bathroom is in desperate need of a face lift but our funds have limited us to one large project at a time. Because the bathroom is fully functional (but hideous to look at) it's dropped to the bottom of the ever expanding list of things to do. Ty, in all his sweet thoughtfulness, started looking for small vanities. Something that we could tuck into a corner of our bedroom so that I would have my own little space for my ablutions (my mothers terminology). After he told me about his idea, it got me thinking. Thinking has proven to be a precarious past-time for me. After some google searching, I started to elaborate on his idea.

My nightstand is actually an antique school desk. It has a small 'cubby' under the desktop and space to tuck a small chair or stool underneath. I thought, instead of buying something new, we could just use what we have! I was so excited to present my frugal idea to Ty! I explained to him that we could hang one of the mirrors that we have in storage on the wall in front of the desk. We would have to find a stool and some new lamps but overall we should be saving money. Ty agreed to this idea. I even think that, at first, he might have thought this was a good idea. We found an ottoman at Target that opens up to store things inside. It worked out perfectly! I've been keeping my makeup and small mirror inside and pull it out each time I need it. Except, we still needed to get some lamps and hang the mirror.

I've been using the lamp by my bed by turning it on it's side. Lamps are not meant to be used this way. The risk of breaking the lamp is greatly increased. My lamp still works but is very wobbly. We went to Lamps Plus last night to look for swing arm, plug in, wall mount lamps. I thought that this specific type of lamp would be perfect for this application. Space saving and light manipulation, precicely what I need. Little did I know that a decent looking lamp with the above specifications cost a whopping $180 EACH! At least the ones that looked cool. I don't think Ty was opposed to the way these lamps looked. I think that buying 2 lamps for nearly $400 was his problem. And honestly, it was my problem too! I wanted to go to this store if not to buy lamps, then to at least get a feel for what's available and maybe a few ideas. I definately did not go there with a secret plan to con Ty into spending $400. It was the first attempt that we made together to start the lamp buying process. I didn't go into this thinking that their would be a process.

First of all the selection of the specific type of lamp I was interested in was relatively small compared to the size of the store. It's a lamp store. A warehouse. An outlet. An entire buidling dedicated solely to the purpose of providing the public with their lighting needs. I liked a few of the ones that they had on display, but evidently, the amount of taste I have exceeds the amount of money I have in my posession. I didn't want to settle for the overpriced, cheap-o, brass, swing arm lamp with a paper shade from 1967. In all my browsing Ty misunderstood my liking a lamp that costs $180 as 'I want to buy 2 lamps for $400.' This was not the case. I was not prepared to spend that much money on lamps for our bedroom. I was only admiring a lamp that I liked and I thought we were just flinging around ideas. So he said 'You can have one but I'm not buying two.' So I immediately get defensive thinking that we won't have matching lamps. I ask him 'Why can't we have two?' He is thinking that I want to buy the sumptuously priced lamps. I'm thinking that he doesn't ever want to buy two matching lamps. Do you see the mis-communication?

We haven't bought lamps yet and will ultimately come up with something that makes us both happy. We always do. This is just a really good example of how women and men see and interpret things so differently.

Swimming Upstream

2008-09-12T07:56:00.001-07:00

Some can relate when I say that the times during motherhood that you feel like you've actually done (or are doing) something right come few and far between. Last night, I experienced one of those priceless sought-after moments. While lamp shopping, of all places. We were browsing the store for bedside lamps for our bedroom. You would think this would be an easy task (I'll elaborate more on that episode later). While Ty and I were heatedly discussing which overpriced lamps we weren't going to buy, Emma was mother hen-ing Tommy trying to keep him in close proximity. I constantly have to remind her that I'm the mommy but sometimes it's nice that she takes charge. She would say 'No Tommy, we look with our eyes, not with our hands.' Your 4 year old saying something this bright is enough to make a mom proud but I was absolutely astonished at what she said next. Out of the clear blue sky she blurted 'Mommy, I'm so lucky! I love my family!'. I thought my heart would burst. By golly she gets it! She understands that family is important and she is happy and satisfied with what she's got. More than anything else, I want her to understand that everything is replaceable except family. And, here I am, thinking that it'll take years of swimming upstream against the media. Trying to counteract the things that are dangled in front of their faces like carrots on a string by the companies that market to children. From Barbie and The Diamond Castle to the scantily clad Bratz dolls (see Ty's LJ entry on aforementioned dolls). She gets it. I've got plenty more swimming to do. Right now I'm only working against the rugged rapids of television. In a few years, I'll have the hungry bears of peer pressure to deal with. But at least for now I feel like I'm swimming up the right stream.

More on the lamp shopping saga later...

Seven years ago today...

2008-09-11T10:58:00.000-07:00

I was 22 years old and living in Beaumont, Texas. I was managing an Office Max store and working the opening shift because I had a meeting to attend in Houston at Noon. The other managers would be covering the midday and closing shifts. The store had just opened and our first customer was paying with a large bill so, I was called to the register to make change. When I got to the front of the store, there was a small gathering of 3-4 customers talking with the cashier. The man waiting for change handed me his $100 bill, thanked me and said "Did you hear about the World Trade Center?". Of course I hadn't. There was a TV in the break room, but I was working. I said 'No.' He proceeded to tell me that a plane had crashed into one of the towers of the World Trade Center. At that point no one knew that it wasn't an accident. I thought to myself (at that time not knowing much about the WTC, or it's function) how terrible it was that all those people died. I remember feeling a little surprised that this is the first I had ever heard of a plane crashing into a high rise. It seemed like with the buildings getting taller that it was bound to happen eventually even with safety measures and precautions. I was extremely naive.

Ty and I were living together at the time and I asked him to drive me to Houston (a 2 hour drive) for my meeting. The meeting was at a Hotel near the George Bush airport and he was much better at navigating and maneuvering through traffic than I was. He wasn't doing anything anyway and I hated driving alone if I didn't have to. He called (Ty NEVER calls me at work) not long after the man who had informed me of the WTC situation had left. He sounded strange, so I asked him what was wrong. He went on to explain to me that he watched another plane hit the 2nd tower broadcast live on the news. I (again being extremely naive) thought to myself, that it was weird that 2 planes hit 2 buildings right next to each other in the same day.

It's wasn't long after that that we brought the TV from the break room up front to the registers. We were pretty much glued there for the rest of the day. All air traffic was grounded. I called my boss to ask if we were still having the meeting. I thought for sure it had been cancelled because it was on airport property. He said that it was still on. So Ty took me up to Houston. I was on the phone with my family almost the whole way talking about the day's events up to that point. For me it was scary and unknown. I had not been very interested about worldly happenings and didn't really care much about the news. I lived in a little happy bubble that I thought would never burst. Naive. When we arrived in Houston, the airport was a ghost town. This is a strange sight to see when you drive into one of the busiest international airports in the world. I attended my meeting and Ty waited patiently for a couple of hours in the car. On our way home, we heard about the first tower collapsing and by the time we got home the others had fallen too.

This was the first time in my life that I remember trying frantically to understand how someone could do something like this. Over the course of the remainder of the week, the death toll rose. There were blood drives and food drives and clothing drives. After a while, the media announced that the blood donation centers were at capacity and that there were few survivors to speak of; no more donations were needed. The final death toll rose to 2,974. Two-thousand-nine-hundred-seventy-four mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, daughters, sons, fiancees, and friends lost. For what? To this day, I still can't wrap my head around it. Nor do I want to understand why some person some where thought that this would be a good idea. There are so many opinions about the story behind the events that took place on that dreadful day. From a government cover-up conspiracy to the terrorist and al-quaida. Whatever it is, it doesn't matter. Human life was lost that day. Everyone lost something that day. Every one's life was forever changed. Children will grow up without their mommies or daddies. Mothers and Fathers will not become Grandmothers or Grandfathers. I don't need to explain...

I was not there. I didn't lose a family member or friend. I lost my naivety. I am forever changed by that day. I will forever be thankful for the life lesson. I will forever be grateful for the things I have. And, I will never forget.

In memory of all that were lost on September 11, 2001.

Don't remind me...

2008-09-10T14:18:00.000-07:00

...that I'm fat. I know, I know I can hear your eyes rolling as you read this but, hear me out. For heavens sakes isn't there an unspoken/unwritten rule not to ask a woman if shs is pregnant?!? Come on people! I regularly get asked one of two questions. First 'When are you due?' or the latter [while placing a hand on my abdomen] 'Are you?'. Give me a flippin break! If you aren't absolutely, positively, without-a-shadow-of-a-doubt certain that the woman you are talking to could push a baby out at any moment, YOU SHOULDN'T ASK!!!

Should I feel sorry for myself that I'm still carrying around all this baby weight even though I eat the same healthy BORING breakfast and lunch while desperately trying to convince myself that I'm not bored eating the same thing every day? No...I don't like sitting on the pity pot and when I do, it's not for very long.
Should I feel sorry for the person that asked the stupid question? ABSOLUTELY NOT! You opened the door to the embarrassment chamber, you should suffer through the torture of being embarrassed.
Am I wearing my clothes too tight? Well, I believe that I don't. I purposely buy clothes a little on the large side to avoid the cling. Of course, if I'm ever in a pinch, I have a pair of Spanx. However, I don't enjoy the feeling of being stuffed into a sausage casing.
Should I excercise? Probably. But I'd have to get up at the crack of dawn before the kids get up. Or, I could wait till I got home from work, after I fed and bathed the kids, finished the laundry, cleaned the kitchen and straightened up the house and after they all went to bed maybe I could get a walk in. But, then it's too late and who would or should walk alone at night? Or maybe I just don't want to excercise. I'm sure that if I really, really, really wanted to I would find a way. It's not like I sit around like a bump on a log. I'm always busy doing something.

So, if you pass a woman who looks pregnant, do me a favor...Don't ask her anything related to pregnancy. There is a possibility she may just be a little chubby (like me) and you wouldn't want to hurt her feelings or be embarrassed. Yes, being pregnant is cute and fun and new and exciting, and yada, yada, yada. I know it might be tempting but just KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! The rule is no longer unspoken or unwritten. Consider this posting as official documentation.

ABC's and 123's...

2008-09-09T20:34:00.000-07:00

...of course not. Not in this house. Nope. Nada. My kids learn about 'Wazz up!' and 'Knuckles' and how to 'Lock it Down' and how to retrieve a beer from the fridge. I consider myself extremely lucky that Ty is able to stay home and care for our children. My friends (you know who you are) would argue that the example provided below is a useless trick to teach a child. They would say 'Why not teach them ABC's or 123's?'. If you know my husband, you know that he is the master of useless (he would call it trivia) tricks and information. Being that he is the master of such things, I should expect that my children will eventually pick up on them if they aren't already inherited. Even though I think that these tricks are useless, I have to admit that it's pretty darn cute to see your child try to imitate their parent(s). Imitation is the biggest form of flattery, don't you think? As my little Tommy demonstrates his new trick below, it shows that he must really admire his Daddy.

San Diego Public Transit

2008-09-09T08:46:00.000-07:00

I enjoy riding the trolley to work. Most days anyway. It helps to save gas money, downtown parking fees, and the environment. It also gives me a little time to wake up in the morning and time to wind down in the afternoon. I don't have to worry about traffic jams and I can call and talk to my family without being inturupted by a screaming child or distracted by driving. Typically, the trolley will have the same commuters each day with sporadic once-in-awhilers. Sometimes, a transient or two will get on board, talk to him or herself for a few stops then hop off at the next station. And then there are the occasional delays. Let me explain.

The trolley is scheduled to pick up passengers every 15 minutes at each station. So, lets say 4:00, 4:15, 4:30 and 5:00. Lets also say that each stop picks up and lets off roughly 25 passengers per car (usually 3 cars per trolley). This would allow comfortable seating for all of the passengers boarding. On a busy day some passengers may have to stand. While waiting for my 4:30 trolley I was told that 2 of the earlier trolleys (the 4:00 and the 4:15) had not come. This of course means that the trolley will be packed when it arrives at 4:30. Well, the trolley did not arrive till almost 5:00, which means that there were 4 times as many people as there normally is in any given car. I was fortunate enough to find the last available seat. By the 3rd stop after my boarding, the trolley was so packed I don't think it could've picked up any more passengers. But people kept shoving their way on the car and it didn't seem like anyone was getting off. This also means that I was packed in my seat like a canned fish. Under normal circumstances this wouldn't be a big deal. But as previously stated, I'm not that lucky. The person next to me (an older gentleman from out of town) was extremely friendly but apparently has never been introduced to lotion or a pumice stone. His elbows were so scaly it felt like little razors rubbing up against my arm. Which, by the way, is still raw. The gentleman across from me suffered from severe Halitosis and apparently couldn't catch his breath or had a long day or something. Every few seconds, or so it seemed, he would take a deep breath and let out a big long, hot, stinky, breathy sigh right into my face. The person standing in the aisle (who's XL tushy was just level with my face) next to my seat had a terrible problem with flatulence. Normally, I can handle these things individually. I get a little scratch on my arm, eh, whatever. I have to talk to someone who has bad breath, no biggie. Someone passes really smelly gas, I politely leave the room or deal with the stench for a few until it passes. After all, I do have children and these things happen on a regular basis. But, I was surrounded, with no where to escape. Put these three things together and, let me tell you, it's by far the absolute grossest thing I have ever dealt with EVER. You could almost cut through the green cloud of stench with my bench companions crusty elbow. YUK!

I can deal with poopy diapers and other foul bodily smells from my children, maybe because I love them so much. Love does have a habit of making one blind. But having any of these things forced upon you by strangers is no fun.
The men sitting next to and across from me were so nice that I didn't want to be rude and move elsewhere. I couldn't if I wanted to because there was no where to go anyway. Fortunately my stop came and I was able to excuse my self and wish them a good day. Ahhhh, fresh air...

A Calendar for Kiera...

2008-09-09T07:13:00.000-07:00

I recently shared my blog with all of you. In sharing my blog I got lots of great responses including one from a friend I met a few years ago while working at Kinko's. Rod and his family (wife Michelle and little boy Colin) moved out of the city but, we exchanged emails and have been updating each other a few times throughout the year. Rod and Michelle, even though we are not as close to them as some of our other friends, are two of the most wonderful people I know. They are very well educated and have been around the world in their travels. They have since moved out of state and have added two more little boys (Drew and Issac) to their family. There are some people that you know for only a short time but you just know that they will do great things.

As some of you already know from personal experience, raising two children can be overwhelming at times. Nevermind trying to raise three. I can't imagine being outnumbered by my children three to two. But, the amazing Pflederer family of five will soon become six. These two amazing people have decided to adopt a little girl from India. I say adopt, but what I really should say is rescue. I was unaware (mostly because I refuse to watch anything media related because it is almost always disturbing) that India has the largest population of slave girls in the world. In reading their story, I learned that slave doesn't just mean a servant working for no wage in someones home. In short, families send their daughters to the city to earn their keep. The families cannot afford to send these girls to school because they need them to work to help support the family. Sometimes, unbeknownst to the family, the girls are sold to brothels and forced to work as sex slaves. The average age of a female slave in India is 14 years. And I do mean slave. These girls receive the bare minimum to stay alive. Clothing, food, and shelter. In return, they are forced to earn their keep by giving up their innocence.

If I had the option, I would open my home to all of the children of the world who aren't seen as they should be. Precious jewels that should be treasured and loved and nurtured and molded in to decent human beings. Because I do not have that option, I am writing this blog to help my friends save one little girl. I am writing in hopes that you will buy a Calendar for Kiera. Saving one among many may seem like a feeble attempt at curing the illness. But as Mother Theresa said, it's still one drop more. I will be buying a calendar from my friends to help them adopt this little girl and I hope that you do too.

Please visit http://journeytoindia.typepad.com/ for more information on how to buy a calendar.

When did I...

2008-09-08T11:15:00.000-07:00

...tell her it was ok to talk to me that way? Is she mimicking the way I talk to her? I hope not because that would mean that I'm not talking to her in a respectful way. I am speaking of my strong willed, bull headed, sassy, smart, thinks she's in charge, 4 year old daughter. She talks so ugly to me sometimes (especially in the morning) that I have to wonder where she gets it.

She mentioned that she didn't want to sleep in her bed because it gave her bad dreams. So, I broke out the 'Magic Bad Dream and Monster Repellent' (just water in a spray bottle with a little perfume). I sprayed all around her room and she even reminded me to spray under the bed.
Then, she said wanted to sleep in just her underwear (what's up with her wanting to be eau natural lately). I said, ok fine, but then she was complaining of being cold. So I brought some jammies to her, just a tank top and some sleep shorts. No big deal, right? Then she said that she didn't want jammies because she would be hot. I explained that these jammies would not make her too hot and that if she got too hot to get out from under the covers. But if she got too cold that she could get under the covers. I don't think she has grasped the understanding of her internal thermostat quite yet. She then said that the jammies were too hot and that she needed a blanket to keep her cool. Huh? She must get this logic from her dad, or maybe her Pata. Whatever, I layed down with her for a little while and after she was asleep, went off to bed. Seemed to me that the jammy issue had been dropped and forgotten. I'm not that lucky. I was in the bathroom getting ready for work this morning. I heard her little feet hit the floor as she jumped out of bed and the stomp, stomp, stomp (Ty would say that she gets the stomping from me, but he walks just as loud as I do) of those little feet coming to look for me. Usually this is a pleasant sound that I'm excited to hear because it means that she is coming to give me good morning hugs and kisses and her polite request to make her breakfast. Not today. Today, she stomp, stomp, stomped into my bathroom, hands on her hips and proceeded to yell 'Mommy, I thought I told you I wanted to sleep naked!!! I didn't want to wear jammies and you put them on me anyway! I didn't want to be hot and now I'm cold so I need to take my jammies off and get a blanket!'
WHAT the HECK is that supposed to mean?!? Then she proceeded to get on the potty, does her business, flushes, walks to the kitchen and politely asks daddy to make her breakfast. Wow, she sure told me.

A few minutes later, I walk into the living room and start gathering my stuff up to leave. I had a few minutes to spare, so I sat down on the chair. Emma cruises over and jumps up onto the couch and picks up the red TV remote control. She then says 'Mommy, I had a dream about the red remote and about a guy, and a hammer, and the hammer smashed his foot, and then smashed his eyes!' I say 'Wow, Em, that sounds like a crazy dream!' She said 'See, I told you I have bad dreams in my bed. That spray doesn't work!' Oh well, I guess had her fooled for a little while.

We'll have to work on her sassiness. She sure has got a little mouth on her. Some would say, {ok, really, most everyone that knows me personally would say} (mostly my family that had to endure the pain of my childhood years) that she gets it from me.

When she is good, she is very, very good, but when she is bad she is awful...

Amazing...

2008-09-07T22:13:00.000-07:00

Everyone that has come into my life has been talented in one way or another. There have been few times that I have had the pleasure of being in the company of someone who is truly gifted. The person I'm speaking of is Lisa Conrad. I have always been quite particular about my professional photographs, wanting to capture something outside the generic sit and pose studio photos. Well, she definately raised the bar and exceeded my expectations. While viewing the slide show, I cried. Yes, I know you are all suprised that I shed tears over looking at photos of my family. She not only captured beautiful photos, she was able to portray our family the way we look in our everyday lives. Her website is http://www.lisaconradphotography.com/ and the pictures below were posted with her permission. Thank you, Lisa, for giving me absolutely priceless memories that I will cherish forever!

Parents Magazine or Gymboree catalog?

The Boys

Hubby and Me

Tommy and Me

Peek-a-Boo Emma

I see you

Tutu Emma

Tutu Cute!

2008-09-07T10:05:00.000-07:00

We went to Jamul (pronounced ha-mool for my Louisiana peeps) today to take Emma's tutu and our family photos. It went great! Emma was (naturally) a ham and had a blast having someone run after her with a camera. She loves having the attention all on her, on her terms only of course. If any of you know my daughter, you are well aware that she will NOT do anything she doesn't want to without a fight. Thankfully, today, she wanted to participate and she had a great time! The site we picked was a golf course. It was perfect, because most golf courses are very well landscaped and manicured. Our photographer, Lisa Conrad, was amazing. She was great with the kids and was very easy to be around. Her personality was warm and welcoming and made you feel instantly at ease. I asked her permission to post some of the proofs up on my blog and she, of course, said 'Absolutely!' (as soon as I get them from her I will post them). I told her that hopefully we would see her once a year. Maybe next time we could have them taken at the flower fields in Carlsbad. I'm sure with Lisa taking the photos, we could take them at the landfill and they would still look amazing!

I was able to take this cute photo

of Tommy 'driving' while we were

waiting for the tutu princess to

finish with her photo shoot.

What a little man!

Vote for me...

2008-09-05T15:29:00.000-07:00

...for Queen of Embarrasment. How could I make such a dumb mistake?
Ty just recently got a multimedia package for his new n95 (pictured below) and we decided that instead of calling during the day that we should text. I love my iPhone. It's really easy to use. So easy, in fact, that it's extremely easy to select an unintended recipient.
I thought it would be cute to text him something just on the verge of being innapropriate. Just innapropriate enough that I thought it best not to email it from work. The response I got was 'What does that mean?'...so I replied with an explanation that was quite a bit more graphic. Carefully illuminating every detail. You know...keeping our otherwise boring married life fun and interesting. The reply I got was 'Did you know this is *Amanda's phone?'... Oh No...Please tell me it isn't true!!! *Amanda's Phone?!?! My next door neighbor?!? The one who lives and breathes the Gospel....who's husband is the Pastor of the Baptist church on the corner?!? The one who has SIX perfectly well mannered children!?!? THAT *AMANDA?!?!
She read the message that was meant for my husbands eyes only. I was (and still am) MORTIFIED! I called Ty and explained the situation. He asked me if I wanted him to go over and talk to her. I said yes initially...hoping that he could help me put out the raging fire of embarrasment in my stomach. Then of course he talked me into calling her, which I did. She was a great sport about it. She laughed and even explained that she had had something similar happen to her when she and her husband were dating. Thank goodness. Hopefully this is one of those things that will make our friendship stronger. A friend that can laugh with you when you do something brainless, is a really great friend to have.

*Name has been changed to protect the innocent. Goodness knows I've put her through enough for one day.

The Holidays are coming...

2008-09-05T14:10:00.000-07:00

...and this year they are NOT TAKING MY MONEY! Are you kidding?! It's barely September and already the stores are putting out Christmas stuff. What the heck?! Is this where the phrase 'Christmas in July' came from? This year, Ty and I have decided not to but gifts for any of our adult family or friends. This year is the start of a new tradition. We will only be buying gifts for the children in our families. All of the needs of the adults in our lives are met in abundance. Anyway, most of the 'gifts' purchased for our adult family and friends are not really gifts at all; they’re more like tokens in a complex exchange system filled with obligation and rules. We will be spending more on our holiday cards this year. A small treat will be included in each one. So I'm sorry if I offend anyone for not buying gifts. If you're really want to purchase a gift for our family, please find a charity to donate to in our name. Yes, we will still decorate, mostly because I just love to decorate. But, also because decorating is part of the traditions that kids remember. I will always remember the way my Aunt's Christmas tree looked with all of the colorful ornaments. The little white lights twinkling all over and the warm glow that they cast after all the lights in the house were off.

The gifts we intend to buy for the children will be small and reasonable and hopefully practical and fun. The holidays have turned into something that is exactly opposite of what it is supposed to be. I don't consider myself a religious person, but I do believe in family values and basic morals. I feel like the holidays of today are teaching our kids 'Look at everything I got for Christmas!' Instead of 'Look at all the things we gave for Christmas!' Hopefully when they are older we can start to do charitable things in our community. Like, hand out doughnuts and coffee to the homeless or work for a day at Father Joe's serving food. Something to teach them how to be fulfilled by giving instead of receiving. I know this is going against the grain of our society today but I really don't want to fill my home with meaningless gifts and trinkets. I'd rather fill it with memories of my family and I just being together. My daughter won't cherish the Dora Kitchen Set that she got last year from 'Santa', but she will always remember that we made Christmas cookies every year.

This is something that I wanted to do last year but it was too late in the season to propose it to my family and friends. So, consider this my official announcement. Please do not buy for us as we are blessed to have the means to obtain everything our family needs to survive and be entertained.

Eau de Cat Urine...

2008-09-05T06:07:00.000-07:00

..yep that's right. My new fragrance, do you like it? Blech! I don't think there is a smell that is worse! So I must have really pissed (no pun intended) off my cat(s) or Ty or both. There is a table in our foyer where I used to drop off my things at the end of the day. My purse, trolley bag, mail, etc. Ty never liked that I used this as my drop off station at the end of the day. He says that the mess starts to overflow and gets out of control. OK, so, I admit it, it takes me a little while to change my system. I don't immediately change as soon as he makes it clear that he doesn't like something that I'm doing. It takes me a little while to adjust. But, he is obviously playing hard ball. Getting our cats in on his game is a low blow if you ask me. After dropping my stuff off on the table, it seems that within minutes the cat (I'm not sure which one it is at this point because we have 3) has sprayed my bag with her lovely perfume! Damnit! If you've never smelled cat pee, it's worse than a skunk and just as hard to get rid of. So of course then I have to get to washing all of the things in my bag/purse and the bag and the purse. How many times will it take for my stuff to get peed on before I stop leaving it on the table? I'll be taking bets until next Friday...

On another, similar, note. So, the same person who gripes about my leaving stuff on the table in the foyer, doesn't understand how to use a laundry basket. Even though I've explained laundry basket usage to him numerous times, he still doesn't get it. He is showing signs of beginning comprehension. Instead of the clothes being strewn all over the room they are gathered in a pile next to the laundry basket. Is it too much trouble to toss them into the basket instead of on the floor? He complains about my leaving 'crap' by the front door and in the same breath curses when he trips over his dirty clothes in the bedroom! Maybe I should talk to the cats and have them help me out. If his clothes started smelling like cat pee, I'm sure he would learn to put his clothes in the laundry basket.

When seconds count...

2008-09-04T17:17:00.000-07:00

...We're minutes away. Huh? Seriously. On my way home from work I saw a minivan with a bumper sticker that said 'SDPD When seconds count, we're minutes away.' Is that the same thing as 'When people are starving, we think about giving them food.'? OK, if there were an emergency where seconds counted, I personally would want them to be seconds away. And if it were minutes, how many? 2, 15, 20, 30?! It doesn't seem like the smartest thing to advertise how long it takes the police department to respond to an emergency. I'm not knocking the San Diego Police Department, please don't misunderstand me...but they should find a better marketing strategy. Hopefully their next bumper sticker won't say 'SDPD Whenever theres trouble, we'll be there eventually.'

So I get home and I walk into a screaming boy and a half naked girl. These are not unusual things to find as I'm walking in the door from a long day at work. It's almost as if they plan to be absolutely BONKERS the minute I walk through the door. I can hear them plotting, 'OK, when Mommy gets home, you start squealing like a newborn piglet and I'll take off all my clothes and streak through the house!'. (Why can't I get away with running through the house naked screaming like a banshee?) Tonight is Emma's Open House at school and naturally she's naked instead of dressed and ready to go. Emma, who is only wearing her underwear, says 'Hey, Mom! I'm naked because I was hot.' Of course then the normal hustle and bustle of the end of my work day and the beginning of my work night ensues. Ty heats up dinner while I mess around on the computer. At the dinner table, Emma says 'Mommy, if me and my friends talk at the same time, we can't hear each other.' I respond 'Wow Emma did you learn that at school?', 'Yep!' she answers. I'm glad to know that she is learning something that makes sense to her. Then she says, in her biggest big girl voice, 'So, how was your day at work Mommy?' I don't think she could be any cuter.

Emma shows me around her classroom
and that she can write her numbers.
There was a paper posted on the wall
in her class with her name on it. There
was a long group of letters on the page
and the following written by her teacher
for interpretation: "My mom is the best
mom in the whole wide world."
I think that their cuteness is a survival mechanism.

PS: I would've taken a picture of the bumper sticker, but I was driving.

Mama Duck Wordle

2008-09-04T13:49:00.000-07:00

Thanks Mean Mommy for the Wordle!

Why is it...

2008-09-04T09:54:00.000-07:00

...that when I have piles upon piles of work to do on my desk I get so overwhelmed that I can't even find where to start. Of course, I know that once I get started, I can actually accomplish more than the average person. I'm great at multitasking. What's the holdup? Why can't I just get started. I feel like an old lawnmower. You know, the one that takes 100 pulls on the starter to get it going but once you get the motor running, mowing is a breeze. Ugh...I'm in a funk.

Besides work, I'm having a blast at home. I have so many projects I don't know what to do with myself. I recently offered to make cupcakes as a gift for a friend's, daughter's birthday party. Tinkerbell themed. So after endless hours of google searching for ideas, I finally decided to suck it up and just use icing. Well, thanks to my bookstore loving aunts that happend to be visiting at the time, I got an AWESOME cookbook all about cupcakes! WOO HOO! Of course I found exactly what I needed to be inspired in this book and voila! Perfect Party cupcakes! They turned out amazing and another girlfriend asked if I would make cupcakes for her son's County Fair themed party! So...I'm making some that look like popcorn tubs and some that look like cotton candy. I'm also making a tiered display stand with a top that looks like a circus tent. Ok, so I'm not sure about the display thing, but I'm going to try to make it work. I hate when I get these images in my head about how I want things to look and then can't make it happen. Gotta love a challenge. Ty's gonna have to help me with this one.

On to my other projects, one of my friends recently decided to start a craft business. She makes Custom Tutu's. Absolutely adoreable! I had her make one for Emma and, since it's the first of it's kind, it's called 'The Emma'. We are scheduled to have pictures taken on Sunday. I thought I'd also make the most of the photo opportunity and get (much to Ty's dismay) a family photo taken. Well, this means getting coordinating outfits. Not the easiest task unless you go to Gymboree. For those of you that don't know about Gymboree, please do not seek any information about this establishment. Especially if you have children! I warn you that they put some kind of addictive substance in the air system in all of their stores. Shopping at this store is EXTREMELY HABIT FORMING and detrimental to your finances (even with a 20% off coupon) and your marital relationships! STAY AWAY! (unless you want your kids to look absolutely amazing in photos!) The pictures of 'The Emma' will be posted at http://www.onceuponatutu.net/ hopefully by the end of the month. My boss keeps looking at me as if to wonder what it is I'm working on. I guess I should actually do some of my work, or at least look like it. Will someone please pull my starter?