Happy Birthday Ellerie

To my Halloween baby, Ellerie . . .

born 10/31/2007 . . .

Here goes . . . 

Happy Birthday to you . . .

Happy Birthday to you . . .

Happy Birthday dear Ellerie . . .

Happy Birthday to you!

What a joy you have brought to my life, my dear girl!

I love you.

And as for the terrible two's . . .

Bring 'em on!!!!

Anniversaries and Decisions

Today is my parents' 38th wedding anniversary.

Pretty cool, huh?

It is also my dad's 61st birthday.  I always knew that my mom was smart, but, getting married on your husband's birthday is truly genius.  He has never had an excuse to forget his anniversary!

Anyway, in a world where the easier decision is sometimes to choose divorce or separation, my parents have stuck by each other through some pretty hairy stages of life.  Their faith in each other and their faith in God have always been a shining example to me.  I have witnessed that times  in my life will be hard, but I have also witnessed the beauty and grace of sharing those burdens with the one that you love, the one that holds your heart.  

I believe that great love stories, like my parents' love story, are gifts. 

And for those gifts, I am eternally grateful.

So, Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad!  You two are truly my role models.  Your love for each other is inspiring.  

In honor of your day, here is a repost that I think that your love obviously inspired.

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The Decision

When my dad toasted hubby and me at our rehearsal dinner, he pointedly looked at each of us and said, "Love is a decision that you make each and every day."  At the time, I was so engrossed in the moment and celebrating with my family and friends that I did not really comprehend what he was saying, but nine years later, I am beginning to grasp its meaning.

To fully love another human being, you have to recognize that love is not just a feeling, it is achoice that you need to actively make. Each. And. Every. Day.  Falling in love . . . getting that butterflies in your belly feeling, that feeling that you get when you are a little kid and you are swinging just a little bit too high on the swing set, that feeling that you get when you are just about to dive off the high diving board at the pool, that feeling . . . is the easy part. 

It is the staying in love that is the hard part.

You see, once life takes over, the ability to choose to love takes over too.  And, choosing to love your honey when every fiber in your being just wants to scream, beat your fists into a pillow, and just let honey have it, is so much more difficult than just allowing the hate and anger to consume you.

So, when hubby decided to scrape the snow and ice off of my window one morning before work and used our metal shovel to get the job done, I had to almost bite my knuckle raw in order to not kill him for putting 4 foot long scratches across my windshield with the shovel.  When I found out that we would have to replace the windshield, I had to switch knuckles and keep on gnawing in order to maintain control.    I had to actively remember that hubby was just trying to be nice when he scraped my windshield down. I had to choose to love hubby even when every little nerve in my body was so mad that I could strangle him.  There was no rosy, pretty pink love feeling at that moment.  Instead, there was a bold and cold decision that I knew that I had to make, even though I didn't feel like making it.  

And when I recently messed up our bank account, hubby had every right to be downright ticked at me.  I had screwed up and screwed up royally, and it was going to cost us extra money that we did not have.  But instead of taking it out on me, hubby immediately recognized how terrible I felt, swallowed his angry feelings, and gave me a much needed hug.  He chose to love me even when I felt completely unlovable.  He made a decision to love me. A decision that, at the time, was not easy.

Hubby and I have to make these decisions daily.  Whether it is his clothes on the floor or my penchant for leaving egg shells in the sink, if we let the little things bother us day to day, if we accused and used each other to get our petty anger out, then we would be chipping away at our own foundation as a couple and we would be in no shape to handle the big things when they inevitably creep up.

And they always do creep up.

By choosing to love each other, hubby and I are constantly reinforcing our foundation.  With every choice, our wall gets a little thicker, and with every decision, we are just a bit more solid.  Together.  That's not to say that we don't have our cracks, either.  We do.  But because our focus is to be proactive in our foundation and in our relationship, we can weather the cracks.  We can repair them. And we are that much stronger for it.

So, when we have to face a new life or an unexpected death, when we have to face financial adversity or a tragic loss,  or when we have to face a success or a defeat, hubby and I are ready.  

We have nine years of decisions to prove it.

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So, to my marriage role models,  I thank you.  I appreciate the role you played in my own strong marriage and in my love story.  I wish you a Happy Anniversary.

I love you!

 And Dad . . .  get a babysitter for Mom Mom and take mom out.  You both deserve it!

It's Not Butter. It's Parkay!

Because of  Ellerie and her day to day craziness, I have been letting some of my daily household chores slack.  Specifically, I have been avoiding the grocery store like the plague.  I just can not figure a way to. . . 

 

a) keep Ellerie safe in the cart.  She can and does escape each and every time I strap her in.

b) keep Ellerie next to me while I shop. Frequently, I have rescued her from a cereal shelf, or I have left my cart in a mad run to catch her little devilish self.  Both of which cause snickers and sly smiles from my fellow grocery shoppers.  I hate snickers. (Not the candy, mind you.  Just the expressions.)

c)actually completely shop for an entire grocery list while Ellerie is with me.  Instead, I have been participating in some drive-by shopping where I just run in and grab a few things when I can.

Consequently, I have done the only thing that I could do in this situation.  I have enlisted hubby's help in the grocery store chore.

This has been a blessing and a curse.

A blessing because, quite honestly, for the most part, I do not like to grocery shop.  Now, if I can shop with my list, and my coupons, and a starbucks . . . with no children and with no time limit, then, hooray!  I like to grocery shop.  But, grocery trips like that are few and far between so, like I said, getting food is not my favorite chore to do.

So, hubby agreed to pitch in, and truthfully, I have to love him for that.  After a long day at work, I am sure he doesn't want to hit the market for the sheer possibility that he may run into one of his student's or worse, one of his student's parents.  No teacher or coach likes to participate in the ambush parent- teacher conference in Aisle 4 next to the peanut butter.  But, the man volunteered for grocery duty knowing full well that that was one of its possibilities.  He is a good man.  For that, I am grateful.

I am not grateful, however, that he is a man in a grocery store.

Because a man in a grocery store does not remember what his wife needed or even asked for.  A man in a grocery store does not consult his list.  Ha!  He laughs in the face of a list!  A man in a grocery store, I say, is an empowered man.  And that, my friends, is dangerous!  

Recently, I asked hubby to take a grocery trip for me.  "Can you get some butter and milk at the grocery store? We ran out."

Hubby didn't look up from his laptop but quickly replied, "Sure hon.   I'll go in a minute."

Ten minutes later  he gathered his keys and started out the door.  "What was I supposed to get again?" he threw at me over his shoulder.

Knowing the dangers of the man and the grocery store, I RAN to the door and yelled after him, "BUTTER AND MILK!!!!!"

He turned, smiled and said, "Right.  Butter and milk."  He winked and then stated proudly, " No problem."  

And then I knew that we would have a problem.

When he returned, he had spent well over $20.00.  He had purchased milk, (2 gallons) lunch meat, sweet and low, and some other assorted goodies.  Quickly, I scanned the bags and asked, "Hon?  Where's the butter?"

"What do you mean 'Where's the butter?' "  he retorted.  "It's right there!"

I looked and my heart sank.  It was  most definitely not butter.  It was margarine.  And if that wasn't bad enough, it was the generic margarine.  The one with the white box and non-descript blue letters that says, "Vegetable Spread".  Yep.  That one.

"Hon?  I appreciate that you went to the store.  I really do, but . . ."  I hesitated.

"But what?"  he asked pointedly.

I blurted it out, "But, this is not butter!"

"Yes. It is. It's what I used as a kid," he explained.

"Well, just because you used it as a kid doesn't make it butter.  Butter is yummy.  This stuff is ," I searched for the right word.  "ummmmm . . . artificial."

He looked at me like I was crazy.  Images of the movie, The Breakup, flashed through my head where the couple fights over the man's grocery trip.  She wanted 12 lemons.  He bought 3.  She had a problem with it.  He didn't understand the problem.  Same here.  I wanted butter.  He got margarine.  Vastly different in my book.  Strangely the same in his.  To-may-to. To-mah-to.

You get the idea.

Before he could explain himself anymore, I just decided to take one for the team.  "Thanks for trying hon.  I appreciate it."

He smiled, satisfied with himself.  I smiled too, knowing that I would have to take back the grocery chore very soon.

Either that or I will have to learn to like margarine.

Yuck.

Confessions of a Stay at Home Mom

(or otherwise titled . . . How I am Keeping My Sanity While Raising Three Kiddies)

1.  I let my kids pick out their own clothes each and every morning.  If they don't match, I don't care.   Seriously.   It is one less thing that I have to worry about.  Consequently, we have had snow boots and shorts and black and navy blue together in one outfit.

2.  When my kids come down with their outfit choice, sometimes I have to walk in the other room to stifle my giggles.  Ethan wore a Steelers jersey, Ohio State warm ups and orange socks.  At least I can say he was vibrant.

3.  I watch the Biggest Loser, and I eat junk food while I am watching.  (I know.  I know.  I am probably going to hell for that one.)

4.  I am addicted to reruns of Grey's Anatomy.  I didn't watch it the first time around, but now I set my DVR to record it, and I watch it at 630 am before the kiddies get up.  Also, I am willing to get up at 6:30 am to watch my fix of Grey's but not to work out.  I can watch Grey's in my PJs.  I have to get dressed to work out.  Which leads me to . . .

5.  I wear my PJ's to school morning drop off.  It's cold. My PJs are warm.  And, I don't get out of the car.  But, if I did, . . .

6. You would see that I am in my slippers, and I have no bra on.  Obviously, I am not a morning person.

7.  I give money to homeless people when they ask.  I probably have "sucker" on my forehead, but if asked, I usually give something.  In my heart, I hope it helps to feed a hungry belly.  In my brain I know it probably goes for beer.

8.  My van is a disaster area and should be condemned.  Even though I make a trip weekly (well, almost weekly) to the local car wash to vacuum it, it still is a mess.  Right now, off the top of my head, I know that there is a McD's garbage bag, random fries, school papers, coffee stained coffee cups,  old receipts, 3 sweatshirts, smelly soccer gear, and other assorted flotsam and jetsam in my van.  There is also window markers and stickers on the interior back windows and melted vanilla ice cream in the rug under Ellerie's seat.  Gross.  I know.  But, for some reason, the mess in my car doesn't bother me (and frankly, never has).

9.  I let my kids sleep in bed with hubby and me.  We both groan at the extra kicks and thrashes in the middle of the night by one or another of our stowaways, but we both really don't care.  We like the extra snuggles, and we know that they will only be little for such a short time.  

10.  If the laundry is not done, I will go without underwear if necessary, rather than wear a dirty pair.  I just pray that on those days, I don't get into that car accident my mother always warned me about.  I suppose I should invest in some more panties, but that thought did not occur to me until I just typed this sentence.  So, there are days when, a la Friends vernacular, I go commando.  I am not proud of this.  Just real.

11.  I have been known to spray furniture polish in the air by the front door and collect all stray items and toss them into a garbage bag when unexpected guests call to say they will be over in 10 minutes.  Consequently, when cleaning out the closet last weekend, I found 3 such garbage bags of junk stashed waaaaaaay in the back of  the closet.

12.  I don't mind if my kids get good and dirty.  To me, that is the mark of a day well spent.  I just throw them all in a bubbly bath at the end of the day and voila!  Sweet smelling kiddies.

13.  I love fountain pop (or soda if you live in other areas of the country).  My hubby is currently boycotting pop (and pizza, but that is another story), so to get my fix I go through a drive thru about once a week to order a large drink.  It hits the spot every time!

Aaaaaah!  I feel so much better.  I may do this once a week!  Confession Wednesday?!  Hmmmm.  I will have to think about it!

*****Another lovely lady blogger had the same idea as I did for Confession Wednesday.  I am joining her fun blog carnival at A Peek At Karen's World.  She is a hoot!

A Spoonful of Humiliation with your Monday Coffee?

It is Monday again.

Monday. Monday.  Can't trust that day!

Case in point . . . a not me moment . . .

Clearly, it was not me who answered the door at 8:30 am, thinking that it was hubby that had forgotten something, only to be greeted by one of our remodeling consultants.  Correction.  One of our male remodeling consultants.   I certainly would have checked before I opened the door especially since I had on no bra and one of my husband's white t-shirts.  I would never disgrace the girls, or myself, for that matter, by allowing myself to be seen by the public with my breasts hanging down to my belly button.  I would never answer the door with my girls sagging away like men's tube socks with soup cans stuffed in the bottom.  No way!  Not me!  I would make sure that the girls were folded and pressed into submission into the harness that is my bra before opening the door to strangers.  (Because, that would be the right thing to do both for me and for my consultant's scarred eyes. )

Yep!  

Monday again.

I'm sure of it.

***** If you do not know what a not me moment is . . . hop on over to Mckmama's blog and check out some other not me's from cyber-land.  In short, a not me moment is any moment when you silently close your eyes, take a deep breath, and wish fervently that "This is not me!"  It's any embarrassing, humiliating, or just plain crazy moment in your day.  Hope your girls are at attention today when you are answering the door!  :)

An Apple a Day . . .

On one of those beautiful fall days last week, we went to a local apple orchard and picked apples. Now, before we arrived, I had never been there before. I imagined large, established apple trees. I envisioned walking under a canopy of branches strewn with ripe apples. I worried that I would have to deal with Ellerie and a ladder. Much to my surprise, though, this orchard was not the orchard I imagined.

This orchard was, well, a mini orchard. The local farmer invested in hybrid apple trees that only grow to about 5 1/2 feet and that grow clusters of apples on their low branches. These were more like apple bushes rather than apple trees.

And, I have to be honest. I was a little disappointed.

That is, I was disappointed until I realized how very excited the kiddies were. They were tickled pink that they could reach each and every apple to pick exactly the one that they wanted.

So, I turned my frown upside down, and I got to picking!

Once El realize that she was actually allowed to pull the apples off of the trees, she went to town! She often pulled so hard that she toppled herself right over. This apple was particularly stubborn. (Just like El! Ha!)

Later, as we filled our apple bag, El tried in vain to carry it from one spot to another. I even had a hard time with it once it was full. It was over 25 pounds! (So, if my calculations are correct, that made a 50 plus pound carry for me back to the car . . . 25lb. apples + 30 plus lbs. of El = one tired Annie!)

The kiddies obviously had a ball, and I did too. I think that the apple picking may become an annual fall tradition.

Now . . . does anyone have any good apple recipes?

A Picture is Worth . . .

. . . at least a few words. Right??

What do you think this one should say?

Caption?

Anyone??

Happy Saturday!

Falling for Fall

It is raining today, and you know how much I love the rain.

(Hey! Was that a snicker I heard?!? No laughing! )

So, despite the yucky rain, I am attempting to look at the positive. The rain is giving me some time to catch up my blogs and blog reading. Geez! I am becoming quite addicted to some of you.

Just saying.

Anyhow, this past week, we had some beautiful weather here in the Midwest. Absolutely beautiful! I just had to be outside with the kiddies to enjoy the 60 degree temps and the blue, blue skies. Days like these don't come all that often in my neck of the woods. Usually from late November through March the skies are gray, gray and you guessed it, more gray. So with this week's vibrant blue skies and the fall leaves turning orangy and yellow, I felt like I was awash in a rainbow.

What a lovely gift!

To make the most of these days, the kiddies and I went to the local arboretum.

We took a hike on a nature trail.

We played in the leaves.

We chased each other through the labyrinth. (Gotta love this girl when she gets the giggles!)

We just ate up all of those fall colors! Yum!!

Overall, we played in the sunshine and had a fabulous time!

I love fall days like these.

Now, I am off to a cold, rainy, wet leaves stuck to my shoes, Saturday morning at the soccer field. If you are there, I'll be the one that resembles the shivering, wet drowned rat!

Just saying.

What's Up in the Crazy House . . . Part 2

To be continued . . .

Let's hope the spacing on this post is a bit better.  If I knew HTML, I probably could figure it out.

So, Rayli over at 4 kids and a Large Coffee also awarded me the The Superior Scribbler Award.  

The rules are as follows:

* Each Superior Scribbler must pass on this award to the most deserving 5 bloggy friends.

*Each Superior Scribbler must link to the author and the name of the blog from whom she/he has received the award. (That's Rayli above.)

*Each Superior Scribbler must display The Award on his/her blog and link to THIS POST, which explains The Award.

*Each blogger who wins the Superior Scribbler Award must visit this post and add her/his name to the Mr. Linky list. That way, we'll be able to keep up-to-date on everyone who receives this prestigious honor.

*Each Superior Scribbler must post these rules on his/her blog.

So, there you have it.  I hereby nominate the following blogs for this award . . .

1.  Chell at Nicely Composed.

2.Rayli at 4 kids and a Large Coffee

3. Brenda at Prairie Tales

4.  Sarah at Thrifty Decor Chick

5. Sandy at 4 Reluctant Entertainers

These ladies put a smile on my face each day.  Whether it's daily family life, thrifty decorating, or entertaining, I love, love, love to read their posts!

Thanks ladies!  You deserve a big piece of chocolate for your hard work.  That and a pedicure!

Tell your hubbies I said so.

:)

What's Up in the Crazy House . . .

Ooooooh!  I have so much to share.  These last few days have been a whirlwind, and I probably have enough material for a week's worth of posts. 

 Eeek!

Where do I begin?  How about on a positive note. 

I have won a couple of blog awards!

How cool is that?!?!

I am super excited.  Can you tell?

The first award is the Honest Scrap award.  I was awarded this by Chell at Nicely Composed and Rayli at 4 kids and a Large Coffee.  Without reading these blogs, my day is not nearly complete.  I love to read of these ladies' adventures and, well, learn from them and laugh with them.  Thank you both for rocking my day!

There are rules for getting this award, and here they are...

* I must present this award to 7 others,

who's blogs I find brilliant in content

and/or design, or those that have

encouraged me.

*I must tell those 7 people that they

have been awarded Honest Scrap, and

inform them of these guidelines.

*I must share "10 honest things" about

myself.

So, here is my list of 7 that deserve an Honest Scrap Award . . .

1. 4 Reluctant Entertainers

2. The Inspired Room

3. Thrifty Decor Chick

4. Prairie Tales

5. Nesting Place

6. A Soft Place to Land

7. Hope Studios

Please hop on over to these blogs to check them out!

And now for my 10 honest things about me . . .

1. I often use creative parenting. For instance, El likes to play inside my kitchen cabinet, so I served her lunchthere the other day. I figure . . . what did it hurt?So there were chicken nuggets in with my pots and pans. So what?

2. I love, love, love my kiddies and my hubby. Even when my kids shove things in their noses or when hubby has crazyideas, I am so very thankful and grateful for them every single day. Really. I am.

3. Even though I have my personal trainer's certificate and could certainly kick your butt in a rockin' workout, I still LOVE bad food. Chocolate. Krispy Kremes. Chicken wings. No matter. I workout so that I can eat. Simple as that.

4. I hate laundry. Well, not the loading or sorting, just the folding and putting away. If I could hire someone to do it for me, I would. In a heartbeat.

5. I love remodeling my OLD house. Even when things are knee deep in construction dust and there are power tools in my

kitchen, I don't get discouraged. I get excited! I have a knack for seeing the potential in a project. I can see beauty through crap. It's a gift.

6. I love to be thrifty. I shop garage sales, thrift stores and the like to find things for me and for my home. Just recently I found a brown leather jacket at Goodwill for 3.99 that is

too cute (If I do say so myself!), and my dining room table I got at a going out of business sale for 98 dollars. Score!

7. I am not a morning person. At all. Ever. If I could sleep every day until 10am, I would. But, I am a mom, and therefore, I can not.

8. My hubby is my best friend. Don't get me wrong.  We argue. We bicker. We are not Ken and Barbie. I drive him crazy with eggshells in the sink, and he drives me crazy when he boy-looks (not girl-looks . . . which, of course, is the correct wayto look for an object) for something in the cabinet. But, he is still the person that I will always pick tospend time with if I have any extra. He makes me laughevery day. I am grateful for him and for our marriage.

9. My birthday is on Halloween and I love, love, love that holiday. I still dress up.  I know. You think that I am crazy. That's OK. I'll live with it.

10. I love competition and I am a fierce competitor.  If I see you at Monday night trivia, I may take you down. Just saying.

So there you have it. I will save the 2nd award for the next post as Ellerie has just 

dumped a 5000 piece puzzle on my living room carpet.

To be continued . . .

PS I do not know what is going on with the spacing on this post. I have redone it approximately 5 times with no luck. So sorry it is hard to read!

He's in Good Hands

What is wrong with this picture?

Go ahead. Look!

I'll wait.

. . .

. . .

. . .

Give up?

OK, if you are really ready to give up, then . . .

Besides the fact that my 5 year old son has mastered the technique of watching the tube with his hand down his pants . . . there is nothing wrong with this picture.

My husband is so proud.

The Good, the Bad, and the PINK

Bad news.

Abbie awoke with the crusty eye that signifies pink eye.

Good news.

I got to stay in my jammies an extra hour this morning because of it.

Bad news.

I couldn't find a photo to enter in this week's I heart faces competition.

Good news.

This week's theme was "PINK" in honor of breast cancer awareness month.

Problem solved!

This was after 2 rounds of antibiotic drops.

Hope your day was pinky!

Don't Get Your Panties in a Bunch!

I read an article recently that detailed the 6 kinds of panties that every woman should have in her drawer.  Apparently, to be complete, each and every woman needs to have in her panty drawer:

1.  A seamless panty (to avoid the dreaded VSP's or visible panty lines)

2.  The hipster. (The modern woman's go-to everyday panty, according to the article.)

3.  The boy cut panty.  (No.  I don't know why they recommend these.  Any woman with an ounce of curves knows that boy cut panties just ride up and give the ultimate wedgie.)

4.  A thong. (Yes.  I own one.  Yes.  There was a time when I wore it.  After three kids, my thong is more likely to be used as a slingshot by my resourceful son than as a piece of intimate apparel.)

5.  A nude panty.  (Again, to avoid seeing your panties through a sheer skirt or white pants.)

6.  The control top panty. (ooh!  The lovely workhorse of my mommy wardrobe.  The control top prevents the muffin top that results from the flab leftover after three, 40+ pound, pregnancy weight gains.)

So there you have it!  The list that every woman should have in her drawer to complement her wardrobe.  Unfortunately, this list is deceiving.  Real women, I say, probably have a drawer more like my panty drawer.  And, in honor of those real women out there, I provide you with the REAL LIST OF PANTIES in every woman's drawer.

1. The grandma panty.  Yes, these panties are probably worn by your grandma, but frankly, you don't care.  They are soft, cotton and  deliciously roomy.  Their largeness provides super comfort on those days when you are feeling bloated. (Like maybe you ate your weight in Krispy Kremes??  No?  That must have been just me.) These panties are secretly loved by real women everywhere and are equally despised by men for having absolutely zero ounces of sex appeal.  No matter!  They are a staple of real women's panty drawers.

2.  The holy (or should I say holey?) panty.  No, these are not your Sunday best panties. These panties come in a variety of styles and colors, but the one thing that they have in common is a hole. Yes ladies.  You can admit it.  Your panty drawer probably has at least one panty with a hole.  Now,  your hole may give a peek-a-boo shot of your tushie or it may be located in a more delicate region.  But regardless of the hole, these panties are your favorite for color or comfort or whatever, and you and I know that you will continue to refuse to trash them until they literally fall off of your body.

3.  The panties that don't fit but you hope that someday . . . they will again.  These old girls were at one time a favorite pair in your panty line-up.  Unfortunately, as age and the pounds creeped up, these panties began to slowly cut off your circulation to your lower appendages. Rather than walk around with numb toes, this pair of drawers was delegated to the lonely back of the panty drawer protocol where they collect dust and wait for the day when they can one day be put back into the rotation.

4.  The husband boxers.  These underwear are not necessarily worn as underwear, per se.  Instead, these boxers have been lovingly stolen from your husband's underwear drawer.  They are clean and boy-stain free.(Yes.  You know what kind of stain I am referring too!  As if you'd steal a stained pair?!?  Yuck!) They too are cottony, soft and roomy and are loved for their yummy comfort and the ability to be worn as pajama bottoms.

5. The memory panties.  These panties are rarely worn.  Instead, these panties are kept as a memory of a special shared time with the one you love.  Whether they be from the wedding night, a special anniversary, or just a steamy night, these lovely little panties always inspire a smile when you see them in the back of your drawer.

So, there you have it!  The real woman's panty drawer.  And, while I aspire to have the pretty panty drawer that the article describes, I am smiling content with my own actual panty drawer.  

Because, after all, real life always trumps fairy tales.

Happy Monday!

Nobody Nose the Trouble . . .

I was wondering when it would happen. 

Today was the day!

All three of my children have now officially stuck an object up their  respective noses.

Abbie's was a french fry.  Easy enough to pull out, but because of the salt, a bit tear inspiring.

Ethan's was a piece of pepperoni.  Don't ask me how he even got that in his little nostril!  It was wedged in quite well, and  that peppy pepperoni produced many a tear and some sweat.  It must have been pretty spicy.  Ethan definitely cleared his sinuses that day.

And now, dear Ellerie.  Miss El decided to try out a popcorn kernel.  This was definitely the most difficult to extract, but dig I did!  After a few tears and giggles from her brother, the kernel "popped" out (Ha!) covered in booger slime.

Success!

Time to celebrate.

Rain, Rain Go Away

It has been raining for several days, and, quite frankly, I am not good with rain. 

Not good at all.  

So, while I attempted to make dinner, I had a blond headed little one climbing on the oven drawer handle to see what I was cooking, a dark haired mischievous boy attempting to balance the soccer ball on his knee while in the kitchen, and my oldest blondie with her head in the fridge stoking out a pre-snack dinner. Now, this, this in itself is a challenge, but when you factor in our kitchen remodel and the RAIN . . . I just about went over the edge.

If I could have locked myself in the bathroom to have a Calgon moment, I would have.  Quickly! But alas, there is no lock on the bathroom door.  (We can't take the chance of El locking herself in there.  Truthfully, we are not really too worried about her, but more worried that she would turn on the faucet and flood the bathroom and cause the kitchen ceiling to collapse.  Just saying. . .) So, no escape to Calgonville.

Instead, when hubby got home, I escaped to the grocery store.  

I know.

Sad.  

So, so sad when the grocery store is a welcome escape.

But, our new grocery store has a Starbucks (score!), a gourmet section , and a fresh bread bakery (yum!),  so, I walked around, sipped my latte, and actually read labels and compared prices without having to rescue Ellerie from the top shelf in the cereal aisle.

It was quite lovely.

That was, it was lovely until my cell phone rang.  Not thinking, I answered it.  And through the phone I could hear the noisy chaos of home, and immediately, I felt myself tense up.

"What's up?  What do you need?"  I asked quickly.

Ab answered, "Oh nothing mom.  We miss you.  Here's El."

"HIMOM! HIMOM! HIMOM!"

I giggled at her vernacular.  "Hi El! How are you?"

"Hi mom!  It's me E.  Are you done yet?"

"Not quite.  I'll be home soon."

And while my peace and quiet of my escape was disturbed,  just hearing those silly voices made me smile.  

I do love them.

Totally.

It's just a little noisy when it rains.

!!!!!!!!!!!

Exciting news!

Today I am the guest blogger on the Reluctant Entertainer's blog.  How cool?!  Hop on over and check it out and check out Sandy's super philosophy about entertaining and fellowship.  I am certainly a believer what with the kiddies, my sports hubby, and a kitchen remodel.  If I stressed about entertaining, I would never see any of my people!

Thanks Sandy for the opportunity!  Maybe we'll be able to BBQ in the real world someday.

Can I Have a Taste?

Why oh why must little kids be so gross?

Today, while shopping in the grocery store, Ellerie decided to open up one of the freezer doors. Who knows how many germs were on that handle, but what she did next really made me cringe. My precious little devil pressed her silly face up to that cold freezer door, and then she proceeded  . . . to lick it.

No, I am not joking.

Yes, I wanted to run to aisle 5, grab some Chlorox, and disinfect her tongue right there.

In fact, I almost knocked over an old lady in my rush to grab my little imp to get her tongue off of that germ infested door.

What possesses little kids to taste everything?  You may remember that E did something similar when he was a bit younger.  At least El's licking choice was a cool door.  E's was a car bumper.  

On a positive note,  not only do things like this make my day to day life a little more interesting,  they are also great birth control.

Happy Monday!

A Little Bubbly Anyone?

What happens when your almost two year old pours liquid bubble solution down the heating vent?

A living room full of bubbles!

And really, how can you get mad at a living room full of bubbles?  It was just what I needed on a Monday morning.

Really.

It was!

To Shoot the Impossible Shot

Have you ever tried to do something impossible?

Say . . . climb a mountain or run a marathon?

Or, what about trying to get a picture of three squirmy children, when they are all looking in the same direction, smiling pleasantly, and not picking their noses?

No?

Well don't try!  I am here to tell you that taking an acceptable picture of my crew is an

 impossible task!  You will be much more successful if you attempted to climb that mountain or to run that marathon than if you attempted to photograph my kiddies.  They are moving targets!

Just look at the lovely pics that my crew treated me to one afternoon this week . . .

El!  What a ham!  It's amazing that this is in focus.  She rushed me with a huge "cheese"!

This was an attempt at a 3 man pyramid.  Except that El was literally choking Ab, and . . .

E has no balance, whatsoever!  He landed with a thud, distracted El, and Ab was finally free to breathe and smile.

Another attempt at the pyramid produced this gem.  I remember thinking that 2 out of 3 kids wasn't too bad!  And finally, after much perseverance and a bit of colorful language (under my breath of course) . . .

I shot this pic.  While not technically fabulous, they are all looking in the same direction, they all have pleasant expressions, and there is no nose picking.  A miracle to say the least.

Professional photographers earn every penny and then some!

The Bald and the Beautiful

I am feeling a bit better today after yesterday's hair trauma.

Thank you for asking.

I am especially feeling better after the checkout lady at the store remarked that I looked like Demi Moore.  "Wow!"  I thought.  "This hairdo might just actually work!"

That was, however, I had positive thoughts until I realized that I did not know which Demi Moore look she was referring to when she commented on my hair.

Because, who knows, maybe to her unsolicited, unbiased viewpoint I now resemble this pic of Demi.

Beautiful, yes . . . and bald.

Sometimes the truth just hurts.  

Badly. 

But hey, if I have to be bald, at least I could do worse.  

Hmmmmm.

I still think that hairdresser should be shot.

I'm So Vain

It is hard to be vain and poor.  The two do not go well together.

Case in point,  I needed a haircut.  My  hairdresser is fabulous and I love her dearly, but, her prices have steadily increased over the years.  I truly believe she is worth every penny, but, we are also counting every penny these days.  So, I decided to stretch my dollar a bit by going to a Great Clips for my much needed do.  I figured that if I could go to a chain hair salon every other hair cut, than I wouldn't feel so guilty each time that I went to my regular hairdresser for some pampering.

My heart was in the right place.  My wallet was in the right place.  My vanity, however, is now in the wrong place.  It is currently in the toilet.

I have been scalped.

And realize, this comes from a short-hair loving, loves to feel the wind on the back of my neck kind of  girl.  Normally, my do is a bit short and choppy.  When I spend the time to style it, it resembles a fresh from bed, messy and tousled look.  Perfect for when I actually just jump out of bed and go without doing my hair! 

In essence, perfect for my busy mommy lifestyle.

But now, now my hair is as short as Halle Berry's hair when she had her super short cut.  And, the problems with that cut on my head are obvious.  A) I am not Halle Berry, and therefore, can not pull off  her hair and B)  I resemble a shaved schnauzer.  The combination is not pretty.  Not pretty, my friends.

And, if I did not believe my own vanity-loving eyes, there were always the words of my brutally 

honest daughter to set me straight.

When Ab hopped in the car after school, her eyes instantly widened while the words flew from her mouth without censor.  "Maaa-ommmmm!" she said, dragging out my name for emphasis.  "What did you do to your hair?  It is sooooo ugly!"

Thanks Ab.

That's just what your bruised-vanity, scalped mother needed to hear.

Let Her Eat Cake

So, not only did I battle a squirrel today (see my earlier post), I also baked a Halloween cake.

It was sooooo cute. The kids helped to decorate it a darling, light, orangy color. Sprinkles in orange and black. Cute bats and pumpkins.  You get the idea.

It was tasty too. The kiddies and I each had a piece, and then . . . disaster struck.

Disaster, that is, in the form of . . . Ellerie.

While the rest of us were otherwise occupied, Ellerie sat down, and just ate herself happy with that cake.

Sigh.

A girl after my own heart.

Feeling Squirrely

There was a squirrel in my house today.

No.

I am not kidding.

No.

It wasn't of the stuffed animal variety.

There was an honest to goodness, real live, fresh from the oak tree, gathering acorns . . . squirrel.  In my house.

Now, normally, I am pretty calm, cool and collected when it comes to critters. A cricket?  No problem!  I just enjoy his chirps until I find him, put on hubby's tennies (of course I don't use mine) and then squash!  No more cricket.   A spider?  Ha! I laugh in the face of a spider.  I will efficiently squash dear old Charlotte and her relatives with my handy, dandy Bounty quicker picker upper every time.  And since living here in the frozen north, I have even encountered a few mice.  I will admit that the first time I spied a Mickey I did jump on the couch and call hubby at work. (No.  I am not exaggerating.)  But, I am proud to report that since then, mice do not cause me to freak out any longer.  The dear, departed Sammy the cat always had my back in that department.

But, a squirrel?

In my house   . . .

This.  This was just a bit too much to take on an already crazy Monday afternoon.  So, I did what any other mildly insane, harried woman would do.

I screamed.

I screamed loudly.

I waved my arms over my head.

And, I swung my broom, hockey style, at his little rodent head.

I do not feel remorseful or guilty however.  Because clearly, this had no effect on the little booger.  He sniffed the air, looked me dead in the eye, and then literally, (and casually I might add)turned tail and walked out the french door.

My kiddies, however, thought it was hilarious!

I am glad I am here to entertain them during my Caddyshack-like moments.

It's the least I could do.

Thought for the Day

The only thing better than fresh smelling, warm and snuggly laundry straight from the dryer is . . .

fresh smelling, warm and snuggly laundry that someone else  slaved over.