Following In My Shoes

Why Isn't Tylenol Part of the 12 Days?

rachel_e_lacy@yahoo.com (Rachel) — Tue, 22 Dec 2009 15:57:00 +0000

The month started out beautifully -- full of mispronounced yuletide carols ("Dinkle Bells" is a favorite in this house), fake pine needles falling off of my aging fake tree, and the promise of easy gift giving and a little holiday baking thrown in for kicks.

Each day, I've lowered the number on my little "Countdown to Christmas" nutcracker and with each new, smaller number, I've felt a little more panic creep into my brain.

And, now, I just wish Christmas was already over.

WHAT! Did I just write that? ME? The woman who posted, before Thanksgiving, that she was ready for Christmas! ME?

Yes. Yes, I did.

The gift-assembling, craft-making (accursed glitter aside), and cooking has been fun. But each accomplished task has done nothing but remind me of one fact: we'll soon be on the road . . . for a very. long. time!

"On the road? That's all you're worried about? Pish Posh!"

Why, yes, imaginary blog reader, that's ALL I'm worried about.

In less than 12 hours, we'll be packing diapers, kidlets, presents, clothes, and the last bits of wanton glitter into the truck and heading over the hills and through the woods. To our grandmother's house we go . . .

Yeah -- less than 12 hours. We're driving at night -- from Houston, TX to a wee bitty town in the far northeast corner of Oklahoma. Might as well call it Missouri. It's not close.

Why did we opt for night travel? Because we have the only two kids in the world who hate riding in the car and refuse to pass the time away by sleeping. Our hope (as foolish as they may be) is that they will simply sucumb to normal nighttime exhaustion and sleep the whole trip.

I get a headache just thinking about it. . . .I'll be the one in the back seat with the kidlets. The one who gets to try and pacify two screaming beings as they protest the fact they are strapped into uncomfortable seats. The one who gets to sing silly songs over and over and over in weak attempts to help little kidlets forget they are miserable. The ONE.

The Little Lady's first trip to Oklahoma was MISERABLE times 12. Our normal 8-9 hour trip was FOURTEEN HOURS. 14. Over half a DAY!

Hubby hopes that it will be different this year . . . even though we've added another "I hate the car" kidlet to the mix. He hopes driving at night will trick the kidlets into thinking they're safe and snug in their beds, with visions of sugarplums dancing in their heads.

There's only one person who'll have such vision a' dancin' away in their head .. . . and that's me, as I try to find my "happy place" during the kidlets' scream festival.

But . . . . the Little Lady's excited eyes, when she sees Gramie, Papa, and the Christmas glory that can be found at my mom's house, might just make the trip worth it. And . . . introducing my Grandmother and Grandfather to Mr. Boy, the little guy they've been waiting and waiting to meet, might just make the trip worth it.

And . . . . spending Christmas Eve with my entire family -- at our home church, singing Christmas praise and worship music, flickering candles in our hands, my father (the pastor) reminding a congregation why we do this thing called "Christmas" . . . . might just make the trip worth it

MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE!!!!!

How To Make Sure Your House is Messy for Guests

rachel_e_lacy@yahoo.com (Rachel) — Fri, 18 Dec 2009 00:08:00 +0000

Subtitled: Glitter is of the devil.

Awww -- just look at it.

Soak it in:
the pretty shades of green . . .
the way the light bounces off each handmade "tree branch" . . .

the feelings of cheer and glad tidings from a beautiful, homespun Christmas craft.

It was an idea born in a moment of sheer genius.

The Little Lady asked "can we make something today," and I complied with her simple request, pulling out all the necessary supplies and sitting down with her at the kitchen table.

My plan had everything: cuteness, creativity, and fine-motor skill work

(aka "let's play with scissors today").

Unfortunately, it also had glue . . . and glitter.

CURSES!

A plague on both their houses, I say.

I have not spent anytime time researching the inventor of glitter, but -- after today --

I am wholeheartedly convinced that . . . person was possessed.

Why ELSE would one create such a substance?

A medium that NEVER DISAPPEARS?

That CAN'T be cleaned off of surfaces?

That seems to be stuck to EVERY strand of your toddler's eyelashes?

That shows up on your baby's head . . .

EVEN THOUGH THAT BABY WAS NEVER NEAR THE STUFF!!!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!

As I told myself on Facebook:

"Dear Self,

The next time you have the "brilliant" idea of letting your daughter have glitter and glue during craft time . . .

SLAP yourself and repeat these words over and over:

2 year olds, glitter, and glue do NOT mix.

Thank you and good day."

At least she had fun, right?

WRONG!

Apparently, glitter, glue, and scissors are only fun until the Disney Channel decides to show The Tinkerbell Movie. Yeah -- then it's good-bye "Little Lady Craft Time" and hello to "Mommy Gets to Finish and Clean up the Stupid Glitter Time."

I have learned my lesson, and hopefully my guests, who are arriving tomorrow, won't mind a few little sparkling green flakes on the floor . . . . all over the dining table . . . . in their dinner . . . . on their socks . . . . under their fingernails . . . . on their scalps . . . . under their tongues . . . . . . . . . . . . . . sigh.

For more entries from Photo Story Friday, visit . . .

Hosted by Cecily and Honey Mommy

Let The Wild Rumpus Start!!!

rachel_e_lacy@yahoo.com (Rachel) — Tue, 15 Dec 2009 15:41:00 +0000

AKA -- A Night in Bed With the Little Lady

AKA -- Tuesday's Random Thoughts

I'm doing things a bit differently with today's "Tuesday's Random Thoughts, hosted by Ms. Keely (by the way, isn't her blog design fabulous? Yeah -- I did that. Just sayin'.).

This past week, the MOST random thoughts/conversations I had all came during a 45 minute period -- our brief attempt at letting the Little Lady sleep with us.

NEVER. AGAIN.

(and, I mean it, Little Lady)

Here's a quick script of just PART of the completely insane time we had with her -- a little girl whose mind and mouth ran circles around us.

Characters:

Little Lady Mommy (always whispering, mind you) Daddy (nearly always whispering)

Mommy: Shhhhh! You have to be quiet -- Mr. Boy is asleep. See him there in the cradle?

LL: (yelling) OOOOOOOooooo! DADDY! Look at Mr. Boy! He's a little bit tiny in the cradle!

Mommy: SHHHHH! Be quiet -- do you want to go back to the Little Lady's bed?

LL: (in a loud whisper) Mommy, SHHHHHHH! I'm a tryin' ta sleep!

Daddy: Then, go to sleep.

LL: (squealing) HA! Did you HEAR that, Daddy? I TOOTED by YOU! Hmmm -- my hiney itches.

Mommy: Shhhh!

LL: It's ok, Mommy -- I 'cratch it. It's ok.

Daddy: Little Lady!

LL: (standing up and jumping) The wheels on da bus go up and dam . . . up and dam. . .up and dam!

(interjection -- yes, she neither sings the song correctly nor does she pronounce "Down" any way other than "dam." Fun times . . . . you ought to hear her sing "I want a Fork" at dinner time. There's no "R" in her version of fork.")

Mommy: That's it -- you're going back to your bed.

LL: (quickly collapsing on the bed in a prone position) No, Mommy. I stay wiiiiiiight here with YOU! Awwwww . .. look at Mr. Boy, Mommy. He's sleeeeeeeping.

Daddy: Little Lady, you HAVE to be quiet.

LL: I'm gonna ask Santa for Christmas lights and broccoli and TWO sheep, Daddy. TWO!

Mommy: Hubby, please take her back.

LL: NOOOOOO! I stay wiiiiiiiiiiiiiight here! I don' wanna go to my bed!

Daddy: If you can't be quiet, you're going back to your bed.

LL: Ok -- I be quiet. Shhhhh, Daddy.

--- ---- All was momentarily still. ---- ---

LL: (hurling herself onto her Daddy) I MAY NEVER MARCH IN DE INFANTRY, RIDE IN DA CALBARY, SHIT DE ARTILDERY!

(sigh. Yes -- you read that correctly. Why does every innocent word turn into a cuss word with this child?)

Daddy: (picking up our wiggling child) That's it. Tell Mommy 'Good Night.'"

LL: (blowing kisses) Night night, Mommy. I see you later!

Mommy: Good night, Little Lady.

LL: MOMMY!!! Shhhhhhh-- Mr. Boy is sleeeeeeeeping!

(AHHHHHHH!)

For More of Tuesday's Random Thoughts, visit Keely at "The Un Mom."

My Little Over Achiever

rachel_e_lacy@yahoo.com (Rachel) — Mon, 14 Dec 2009 06:06:00 +0000

So -- what do you suppose my son decided to do at 13 and 14 weeks?

Oh, ya know, nothing major.

Just cut a couple of teeth!

Yep, we have teeth now.

MAAAAAAAAN!

Do WE have teeth!

From time to time, I have the special joy of being a human teething toy.

Such fun, I tell you . . . such fun.

Hubby doesn't quite understand and thinks I'm exaggerating when I've relayed the few times Mr. Man has decided to have a "gnaw on Mommy" session.

I offered to let him experience the teeth for himself.

He declined.

The Big Chicken.

Semi Wordless Wednesday: Life Lessons

rachel_e_lacy@yahoo.com (Rachel) — Wed, 09 Dec 2009 16:27:00 +0000

Our Nativity is now a single-parent barn. Poor Joseph -- he didn't survive the Terrible Twos.

No matter the amount of kisses the Little Lady has applied to his neck, he is irreparably a little beside himself.

She has been heartbroken since the moment she dropped him, his head instantly snapping off and rolling across the kitchen floor. The Little Lady doesn't understand why her numerous kisses to his neck and head haven't fixed it. In her little world, this is the first time a kiss hasn't made something better.

Poor Little Lady -- sometimes it is sad growing up and learning how life really works.

Tutorial - Making Silhouettes

rachel_e_lacy@yahoo.com (Rachel) — Tue, 08 Dec 2009 18:33:00 +0000

I've had a few people contact me for instructions to make the silhouettes; for anyone else who is interested, here is a step by step (pics included -- yeah, I'm that good) tutorial for you!

*Note: the instructions will be given using the photo program, GIMP. You may have to make adjustments if you use a different software.

Step One

Take a profile shot of your subject. Good luck doing this if you have a toddler who would rather be doing her own thing.

Step Two

Open the picture in the photo-editing software of your choice I use GIMP, which is a FREE editing software and very similar to Photoshop. I use it for EVERYTHING -- including my blog design work. I love it! (You can download it HERE)

If you duplicate the photo layer and add a transparent layer (then hide the original background layer), it will make things easier later when you edit your work. Hide the original background layer.

Step Three

This is the only step that is time-consuming. Use the paths (or clipping) tool to create an outline around the subject's profile (zoom in if you need to do so). If the background makes it difficult to see every curve of the head, use your brightness/contrast tool to play with things until the details are more prominent.

Step Four

It's time to eliminate the background. In Gimp, this is done by selecting "Selection from Path" on the toolbox..

Then (from the toolbar this time) choose "Select" -- "Invert." (Inverting tells the program to remove just the background from the original picture.) After selecting Invert, simply hit delete to remove the background.

Step Five

SAVE YOUR WORK at this point. There is nothing more frustrating than to lose everything at this point. Grrrrrr!

From here on, it's prudent to continue saving after each completed step.

Step Six

Once you have just the profile left, click on your "Move" tool to remove the path around the profile and then go back to "Select" (on the Toolbar) and choose "None." This will get rid of the "inversion" from the previous step so that you don't accidentally flood the background in the next step. Trust me-- that's not a good thing!!!!!

Now -- choose "Alpha to Selection" to highlight JUST the profile. Once that is completed, use the "Fill" tool and fill it in with black.

Remove the "highlights" by going back up to the toolbar and clicking "Select" and then "None."

Step Seven

Time to clean up the edges! At this point, I fill my "new layer" (the one we created in the beginning) with white -- this creates a high contrast that allows me to more perfectly see every edge of the silhouette.

You can use the shrink options, feather options, and the good ol' eraser to remove any harsh edges. For the Little Lady's Curl's, I used the Ellipses select option (you know -- the one that makes circles) and made different ellipses around her curls, filling them in with black. This made for smoother curls.

Before clean-up:

After clean-up:

That's pretty much it!!!! Once I finished the clean up step, I printed my silhouettes on cream card stock and then matted & framed them. BUT, if you want to make a traditional silhouette, you could use the computer generated one as a template. Place the template on good, black card stock and, using a sharp tool like an exacto knife, cut out your silhouette and frame!

I hope this wasn't too garbled. If you have any questions, let me know!

Feeling Ambitious

rachel_e_lacy@yahoo.com (Rachel) — Mon, 07 Dec 2009 16:26:00 +0000

(photo found on Flickr)

Isn't that just the CUTEST play food set you've ever seen? And, it's all out of FELT! Yes, felt -- the cheapo fabric that is, apparently, more versatile than I ever dreamed.

Thanks to the economy, new baby expenses, etc., I have been trying to find creative gift ideas this year. So far, I have done pretty well -- at least, according to my mother-in-law, who just received her birthday present: framed silhouettes I made of the kidlets. (Shhhh. I have to admit, I'm pretty proud of how they turned out!)

Anyway, I've been toying with the idea of making a few felt food sets as Christmas presents for the Little Lady. I have a sewing machine. I have felt. What could go wrong? Ummmmm . . . yeah, don't answer that.

But, you CAN answer these questions!

Has anyone out there ever made felt food before?
Was it as easy as it looks?
Did you hand-sew (yuck) or use a machine?
How did the items hold up when washed?
Any "been there, done that" tips for a newbie?
Do you think I'm crazy for wanting to do this?

Embarrassment at the Doctor's Office

rachel_e_lacy@yahoo.com (Rachel) — Fri, 04 Dec 2009 06:00:00 +0000

Potty training is going well. Almost "too" well as now the Little Lady is keenly aware of her bodily functions. Although, in this case, knowledge isn't power.

Or is it?

Yesterday, I had to take Mr. Boy for an emergency doctor's visit. Turns out, there was no emergency -- just a situation involving a very nervous, first-time "boy-mommy" who isn't used to mundane matters of the penile persuasion.

But, before I could learn that Mr. Boy is perfectly normal, I had to deal with the Little Lady. A very energetic and very TALKATIVE Little Lady. In the waiting room. A room that was full of people. People who were waiting. Quietly waiting.

It was just the audience the Little Lady needed.

As I nervously waited for the nurse to open the door and call Mr. Boy’s name, my very ladylike daughter entertained herself on a little slide . . . up and down she went, each time pealing laughter following her descent. Our time in the waiting room was going well. No complaints from this Mommy.

Then I heard her voice -- unusually loud:

"I'm gonna stand on dis slide and POOP!"

(Oh, dear God, please tell me that wasn't really my daughter that just spoke!)

I glanced at her in horror. She was grinning her big, cheesy grin and grabbing the handles of the slide -- I assume for the support she felt was needed for her latest parlor trick.

Leaning forward and speaking in a lowered voice (hoping to inspire the Little Lady to do the same), I implored my daughter to "Hold it!"

She laughed. "Mommy! I'm a not gonna hold it!" As if I -- the Mommy . . . the Adult -- was being so silly with such a question.

Sensing she had taken my question quite literally, I rephrased my request. "I mean -- you need to WAIT. Till we get into a bathroom. Don't you want to sit on the potty like a Big Girl?"

The Little Lady cocked her head to her left side and looked at me, serenely and with quiet determination: "No. I don' wanna wait, Mommy. I wanna poop right here on dis slide."

I could hear stifled giggles coming from the direction of a "Been There, Done That" Mama who was there with her elementary aged child.

(At least, I'm hoping she had been in this situation. Surely she wasn't just laughing at MY expense!)

There was no stopping my Little Lady from her very un-ladylike goal. No bribes, pleading entreaties, or even stern looks could make her change her mind.

And, of course, after she completed her task -- she went right back to sliding. Apparently, a little extra padding doesn't bother her.

No (play) Room at the Inn

rachel_e_lacy@yahoo.com (Rachel) — Wed, 02 Dec 2009 20:37:00 +0000

Heavenly days . . . .I feel like I'm drowning in baby crap.

(Not literally -- no, don't worry. I'm speaking metaphorically here.)

Every (seriously EVERY) room in our house has something baby or kid related in it. Every bedroom. Every bathroom. Every hallway. And the entire downstairs area.

If I'm not bumping into the pack-n-play, I'm tripping over baby dolls, sippy cups, or the bumbo seat. Last night, as Mr. Boy and I navigated our way to bed in the dark, I stumbled on something and was startled when bright red and blue lights started swirling around us. Hubby, hearing the noise in his sleep, rose in the bed and groggily mumbled, asking if I'd gotten pulled over.

Nope, dear Hubby, go back to sleep; those lights were just courtesy of the Little Lady's light up sandals (which some Daddy didn't put away after he let her clomp, clomp, clomp all over the hallway). No biggie. I'm just carrying our infant son. Who cares if I trip and fall?

Sigh. I'm over all of the baby equipment and little toys that seem to constantly scatter across our house -- despite the multiple times a day I put everything away. I try to remind myself that "this too shall pass;" that one day (hopefully very, very soon), Mr. Boy won't need all of his accouterments and the Little Lady will be old enough to be responsible for picking up her own toys . . . without having to be directed to do so.

Actually, she is starting to get the hang of. Whenever she wants to change her baby's "tinky dipah" and gets into the my diaper stash (a supposedly forbidden zone, but, yeah, whatever), she does make sure she puts back the ones she doesn't need. She has even begun taking her sippy cups to the sink for me. Of course, this usually happens after she has spilled the contents on the floor and seen my reaction. "Don't worry, Mommy. I fix it," she brightly says as she takes one of Mr. Boy's blankets and mops up the mess.

The sad thing is -- we HAVE a playroom. Well, a playroom of sorts. Let's just say that we have a room designated for toys. . . and our bookcase . . . and our saltwater fish tanks . . . the clean laundry that is waiting to be folded . . . and the extra chairs that don't fit in the living room (thanks to the pack-n-play and exersaucer). Hmmm -- maybe a better name would be the Junk Room. That's a bit of a better description.

(seriously-- how SAD is this room . . . with its ugly furnishings and paint-sample walls?)

That ugly room is at the top of my "to-do list" right now. I'm sooooo over its ugliness, lack of function, and the cluttered look it has. I want the Little Lady and Mr. Boy to be able to use and enjoy it. MAMA wants to be able to enjoy it. In my daydreams, it would be painted, clean, and ORGANIZED . . . with appropriate, kid-friendly organizational furniture.

photo credit: love to know

(this room is a little too bright, for my taste, but I love the ideas shown here.)

I stole a copy of Parents magazine from my mother-in-law this past weekend -- just because it had a great article on making playrooms organized and usable. I adore the playroom in the article, written by a mom who also was fed up with toys in her living room. Her children's playroom was bright. Cheery. Clean. And that chick's kids LOVED it. . . .USED it . . . and CLEANED up their toys when they finished playing!!!!!!

Now I'm on a mission to research what works in a playroom and find an affordable way to implement those ideas here in our home.

Anyone want to share their ideas? Pics? Blog posts? ANYTHING? ? ? ? ?

Farm Town -- You Are The Devil

rachel_e_lacy@yahoo.com (Rachel) — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 05:23:00 +0000

For three months, I was clean -- free from my addiction to a simple little Facebook application.

No plowing.

No planting.

No late night rendezvous with my sister to dish over our crops.

Instead, I was busy with a newborn. I had no time to spend wasting on computer games or virtual realities.

Then I heard that the Facebook version of Farm Town had a ton of new features, and I thought "What's the harm in checking things out?". Sigh -- oh, there was harm. DEFINITE harm Within minutes, seconds really, I was completely and irrevocably sucked back in and glued to my computer screen.

Wait -- what's Farm Town, you ask? Oh, me . . . oh, MY! How can you NOT know about Farm Town? How have you lived without the excitement of being able to plant pumpkins, onions, or blueberries? How have you gone this long without the anticipation of knowing you'll soon be able to afford the white house, or a new barn, or the big seeder? WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? ? ? ?

That's me (the little, itty bitty gray headed avatar) standing in the middle of a recently planted crop.

Yes, I'm a Farm Town Junkie. One of those freaks who gets excited when new crops are released and who begs her Facebook Farmer Friends to send specific gifts for her little cyber farm. (by the way, I'm still accepting fall trees, you Farmer Friends O' Mine)

Hmmm -- that whole farm shot just doesn't do justice to my sweet little plot. Here's a better one:

See me standing there? (Wave to little Avatar Rachel, why don'tcha?) That's my little house, flowers, and backyard -- even some play equipment for the kiddos (and a fence to safely block them from the pond).

OH? You want to see a better picture of the pond? SOOO glad you mentioned it. Here ya go:

There's the pretty little pond. And my relaxing hammock. And my recently acquired garden gnomes. How can you have a garden without garden gnomes? Makes me kind of wish I had real ones for my real yard.

Ahhhhhh. Look at that idyllic setting. I can almost feel the perfectly warm autumnal sun shining down, can't you? Of course you can.

What? You want MORE? Why, I am more than happy to oblige!

Here's the entrance to "Ye Old Homestead," complete with the mill and my caretaker's lodge. Yes, I have an imaginary caretaker. And, no, he doesn't do a good job since I arrived back from the holiday weekend to find all of my flowers and crops dead. Gone. Wasted. (sigh)

Finally (finally . . .I know), here is my work zone -- my barn, water tower, chicken coup, work truck, and seeder.

Do you understand my addiction now? No? You can't understand why I stay up -- late into the wee hours of the morning -- waiting for crops to ripen? You don't get why I forgo much needed sleep just to rearrange trees and flowers? You don't see the POINT of all this madness?

Truth be told, I don't either. I have no clue why I find this stupid game as fascinating as I do. No. Idea.

And, I don't know why I chose gray hair for my little Rachel.

But, God help me, I just like the game.

My name is Rachel and I'm a gray-headed farmer. Don't judge.

While YOU Were Out Shopping

rachel_e_lacy@yahoo.com (Rachel) — Fri, 27 Nov 2009 15:56:00 +0000

I did the following:

1. Slept in. . . and it was FANTASTIC.

2. Made the best freaking cup of coffee EVER.

(Ah, Sexy Mr. Joe -- why did I ever toy with leaving you?)

3. Made and ordered Christmas cards!

(by the way, if you need to do the same, I suggest SeeHere! Normally, I've used Snapfish or Shutterfly, but I plan on using SeeHere from now on. They were COMPLETELY customizable (even the frames, graphics, EVERYTHING). If you want to use them, visit Freebies 4 Mom to get a GREAT deal,-- but, hurry because it expires on the 30th!)

4. Finished decorating my living for Christmas.

(Another aside: I REALLY grew up this year. Normally, I am the most anal person when it comes to decorating for the holidays. Everything has to coordinate . . . everything has to be pretty . . . everything has to be "just so." Each ornament on the tree must be placed with the ENTIRE tree in mind -- it's all about balance of color, size, and effect.

But, this year? I let the Little Lady help. This. Is. HUGE! So what if she wanted to put all the brightly colored ornaments on the tree that is normally reserved only for my metallic colored ornaments? So what if she wanted to put all of the ornaments on the same three bottom branches? So what if the ugliest ornaments from my childhood are the ones that she absolutely adores? Christmas isn't just about me and my pretty decorating anymore. This year, we have a little girl who finally understands that this season is something to be excited about. And, excited she IS!)

5. Put the finishing touches on our first Gingerbread House.

(this is another biggie for me; in the past, I've been just as picky about my gingerbread houses as I am the placement of my ornaments. Not this year. Oh, no! I let Hubby AND the Little Lady Help . . . and I even let them both decide where to place candy. To be honest, the finished house is pretty cute!)

6. Changed the photo in my blog header.

(Oh, yes - we took photos last night of the kidlets in their MATCHING Christmas jammies. I'm almost embarrassed to admit how crazy excited I was about those pajamas. Seriously - you would have thought I'd won the lottery when they came in the mail. And when I actually put them on the Little Lady and Mr. Boy? HOLY COW, (as the Little Lady says)! I love, love, love, LOVE them!

Unfortunately, we didn't get the best photos out of the session. Mr. Boy was tired and cranky. The Little Lady was tired and cranky. And Hubby was trying to watch the A&M v. UT game. So, if you happen to be on my Christmas card list, please understand that the card's selected photos were the best of the lot!)

So . . . . what did YOU accomplish today??????

Hosted by Cecily

Underage Nursing in Public

rachel_e_lacy@yahoo.com (Rachel) — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 19:04:00 +0000

At the sound of her little voice this morning, I've decided we might have to call it something else.

"Look, Mommy, I'm feeding my baby 'Boobie'!"

(Oy vey.)

I expected this type of mimicry. All of my "Been There, Done That" mom friends warned me about it. I know I imitated my mom. In fact, one of my earliest memories is sitting at my grandmother's house, nursing my little baby, Jonathon, while mom nursed my new baby sister. Imitating the world around them is what little kids do and how they learn.

Heck, my mother in law told me HUBBY even pretended to nurse his stuffed animals after the birth of his baby brother.

(Tee hee . . . hi, Hubby)

Fortunately, since we're all sick today, we're home and this announcement/act wasn't in the middle of a crowded store, restaurant, or a friend's house.

But if it was?

(Oy vey, again, I say.)

Truth be told, I'm torn. Do I let her "nurse her babies," knowing full well that, at some point, people outside of our immediate family will see her do this? Or, do I tell her that only Mommies feed their babies "boobies" and hand her one of her doll's bottles?

Both the Little Lady and I were formula fed, so I don't have any issue with letting her bottle feed her babies, but I love nursing Mr. Boy and I want my daughter to grow up knowing that nursing a baby is an absolutely wonderful a way to feed a child. Yet, do I really want my 2 year old play acting like she's nursing . . . in public? Little shirt raised up and everything? Yeah. Not sure about that.

Of course, I don't want to sound as though I'm not truly supportive of breast feeding -- believe me, I am!

I don't have any problem with any woman who breastfeeds, is an extended breastfeeder, who pumps . . . I don't even have a problem with nursing in public. I do it myself ! (Although I can't bring myself to do it without my nursing cover and Hubby standing around to beat up anyone who stares a little too hard.) But, the Little Lady, potentially, nursing in public? Yeah -- I kind of have a problem with that given that we live in crazy Houston. I was approached once by a stranger who asked if he could take a picture of the Little Lady -- just because she was "so cute." Seriously. So, yeah, I'm a little nervous about her "breast-feeding" in public just like Mommy.

On the other hand, I feel guilty telling her not to do it, especially since she sees me feeding Mr. Boy eight times a day. Just feel a little hypocritical, that's all. Should I get over it and let her play "Mommy" however she wants? Maybe so -- after all, our bodies were made to do this, just as they were made to eat, drink, and sweat. It's natural, right? And, despite what I tell her, she will still probably end up feeding her baby "boobie" the next time at church . . . 'cause that's just the type of kiddo I have.

Yeah. I think I should start practicing my new smile. The "Yes, I know my daughter is nursing her baby doll. What's it to YOU?" Smile. I'm sure I can nail that look. And, in the meantime, perhaps I can incorporate a few modesty lessons into the Little Lady's life curriculum.

Now -- I just need to come up with a new name for nursing, as well as no longer asking Mr. Boy if he "wants a boobie." If not, that will be the next thing out of the Little Lady's mouth!

Need a Gift This Holiday Season?

rachel_e_lacy@yahoo.com (Rachel) — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 02:34:00 +0000

It's the time of year when pictures are taken all over the country -- pics for holiday cards and presents. Our household is definitely going to be participating in the tradition, which is why I am SO excited about the FREE Photo Canvas deal a friend told me about at the blog, Frugal Coupon Living.

Canvas People is offering a free 8x10 canvas for the photo of your choice, and the rest of their sizes are $55 off!!!!

With $55 off the current prices is as follows…

8×10 FREE

11×11 $3.99

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Anyway, just wanted to pass this along in case anyone else wants to take advantage of this cool offer. :)

Lemme Kiss It

rachel_e_lacy@yahoo.com (Rachel) — Thu, 19 Nov 2009 18:40:00 +0000

Over the past 29 months of her sweet life, the Little Lady has had her fair share of bumps and bruises, scrapes and scratches. She's tumbled off the steps, tripped running down the driveway, and -- most recently -- taken a nose dive into the headboard when she was jumping on the bed.

Each time, her Daddy and I distract her from the pain by offering hugs, pats, band-aids, and, of course, our kisses. "Let me kiss it," is usually one of the first things we say to her when she comes to us, her eyes welling with tears and mouth wide open in a wail.

I don't know why it works, but it always does. Each time, one little kiss on a knee, an elbow, a forehead, or a nose is all it seems to take to stifle her sniffles. She knows that a kiss will "make me 'peel' better," as she says to us.

The Little Lady has taken this knowledge one step further and now offers to "kiss away" her mistakes. Oops! Did she spill milk on the couch? No problem. "Lemme kiss it," she offers as she bends down to kiss the white puddle that is soaking into our new furniture.

Her infamous artistic endeavor that entailed her drawing, with blue and yellow crayons, on the walls of two rooms? "It's ok, Mommy. Lemme kiss it."

Right now, in her little world, a kiss solves everything from physical ailments to naughty little mishaps. I have a sneaking suspicion that there's more going on than just the physical act of placing lips on something; she knows that our action comes from the love we have for her. And, because of that love, she trusts us that we really are making it better and that we always will. We're her Mommy and Daddy . . . and that's our job. To make her, and everything around her, better.

I wish all parents of little girls and boys took this job as seriously.

This week, as I drove home from an excursion to the grocery store (sans kiddos -- thank you, Daddy) my stomach turned with a story that was being reported on the radio. The body of a missing little girl, only five years old, had been found -- and her mother had been arrested for, allegedly, selling her daughter for sex. The mother is the big, bad guy in this horrible crime. Her mother.

I saw the little girl's face in an online report. She was beautiful and sweet -- as every little girl is -- but this little innocent lost her life in a way that I can't, and don't want, to imagine. And her mother was the catalyst for her death.

I do NOT understand anyone, especially a mother, could do this to a child. Her mother?

This is the type of story, especially during our years of infertility, that raises every ounce of ire within me. How in the world can someone throw away the precious, sweet gifts of motherhood and children? Don't these people understand the rare chance they have when given children? They have the opportunity to experience an unfathomable and indescribable love and joy that comes from the moment of their child's birth -- an opportunity that not all of us are given when we want it.

I guess this woman just didn't care. Instead of offering trust, love, and healing kisses, she threw her daughter to the wolves. There was no thought of making her little girl "peel better."

Maybe the evidence is wrong. Maybe her mother really didn't do that of which she is accused. I hope so -- for that little girl's sake, because I can't imagine what her last few minutes were like as she realized what her mother had done: she hadn't cared enough to protect her own daughter.

The Power of a Christmas List

rachel_e_lacy@yahoo.com (Rachel) — Wed, 18 Nov 2009 00:18:00 +0000

Hubby banned me from creating a Christmas list this year. What a Grinch! A Scrooge! Grrrr! For some reason, he is scared of my lists.

Oh, and I'm talking about my PERSONAL list, not one for the kids. It is the list of things that Mama wants that terrifies him, and I really can't understand why.

Well, maybe I get it a little. There were more than just a few things, from last year's list, that I ended up getting. That original list was a guest post for The Mom Jen's blog, Cheaper than Therapy. Then, because I REALLY wanted to make sure ~~Hubby~~ (ummmmm) SANTA saw my list, I double posted it here. Wanted to cover all my bases, because he's a typical man and doesn't listen to the hints I give him. But, like a very GOOD husband, he reads my blog. That's right, he does. It's ok to be jealous.

It worked.

Let's review, shall we?

Christmas 2008 Wish List

(1) 2nd Baby
(2) Manicure
(3) 2nd Baby
(4) Pedicure
(5) 2nd Baby

Hmmm . . . can you see why he might be a little intimidated of my wishes? We were NOT planning on having a second child last year. I WANTED one, but I just "knew" that it wasn't in God's plan since we weren't able to afford a second adoption. Yep, I knew what God had planned. . . .and, apparently, He reads my blog too and decided I needed a little lesson.

Hence. . . .Mr. Boy was fashioned and formed that same December.

And, I am now banned from creating another wish list.

He's so mean.

Dear Little Lady,

rachel_e_lacy@yahoo.com (Rachel) — Mon, 16 Nov 2009 17:37:00 +0000

It has become abundantly clear that we need to have a "come to Jesus meeting" over what is and what is not acceptable to put in your mouth.

Yes, we're talking about it. Please sit down and listen like a big girl -- Mommy doesn't want to have to cover this again.

Here is a list of things that are ok to pass your lips:

Any freshly COOKED item of food.

Fresh water that is IN your cup.

Fresh milk that is IN your cup.

Your toothbrush -- IF Mommy or Daddy have given it to you.

Here is a list of things that are NOT ok to pass your lips:

Raw food (unless a vegetable that has been placed in your hand by Mommy or Daddy).

Charlie's food (rabbit food is NOT people food) or Charlie's water.

Food that was on the floor. I don't care if you put it there to save for later. It was on the floor and off-limits.

Mr. Boy's bottles.

Mr. Boy's pacifier.

Mr. Boy's fingers.

Mr. Boy's arm.

Mr. Boy's head.

Wipes, whether clean or dirty, should not go into your mouth.

Hemmorhoid cream should not go pass your lips . . . and, while we're talking about it, it doesn't need to go on your legs OR in your tea cup.

Mommy's Deodorant is NOT food. It serves no benefit if taken orally. Please stop climbing up the cabinet to get it.

Toothpaste. I know you like the minty fresh flavor, but hiding in Mommy's closet and eating toothpaste is not a good idea.

Books. These are for enjoying through the act of READING, not eating.

I hope these lists are clear enough, dear Little Lady. I understand that you love to explore . . . and that you have an iron stomach, but following Mommy's rules will be much, much better for you. I promise.

Oh, and, of course, I do reserve the right to modify this list as needed . . .but let's hope that it isn't necessary!

Love, Mommy.

Thank GOODNESS It's a New Week!

rachel_e_lacy@yahoo.com (Rachel) — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 16:39:00 +0000

What's the old phrase . . . when it rains, it pours? Yeah, that's what happened last week. Crap pouring all over the place. And, unfortunately, I mean that quite literally.

Sigh.

Situation #1 -- A Flood in the Bathroom

Let's start with the major event: our sewer backed up. Yes. Backed up. In. My. HOUSE!

A friend of mine asked, "How do you know when your sewer backs up?". Trust me -- you can't miss it, and a curious two year old won't miss the drama either. "The toilet is broken" became quite the popular phrase around here.

So, whose fault was it? Our lovely city of Houston, and it's electric maintenance company, cut the sewer line when installing the electrical cables. Of course, they "tried" to fix it, but it was done so poorly that tree roots were able to get into the pipe and grow. And grow. And grow. And grow.

Bottom line? I had a VERY good excuse to open my Christmas present a month and a half early. By the way, dear Hubby, thank you SO MUCH for the Shark Steam Mop. It is AWESOME. (and thanks for agreeing that this situation mandated the use of the mop!)

Fortunately, Hubby and my Father-in-law were able to fix the problem . . . and they fixed it for about $1650 LESS than the $1700 quoted by the plumber. Yeah. Those boys rock!

Situation #2 and #3 -- The Little Lady Experiments (twice)

I've learned an important lesson this week. No matter how high out of reach you place items, a two-year-old will find a way to get those items.

Especially if those items are mascara, Bare Minerals powder, toothpaste, and hemorrhoid cream.

The first time she decided to play, we were minutes -- mere minutes -- from heading out the door to church. I left her waiting in my room as I went to find her shoes. BIG mistake.

I returned to find my bedroom door shut . . . and LOCKED. That's right, the little twerp had locked a door for the first time. A door to which there is no key.

One bent bobby pin and three minutes later, Hubby and I burst into the room and were greeted with a happy, squeaky voice proclaiming, "I'm coloring my face! I'm a kitty cat!" My eyes turned toward my bed, where I found her proudly perched, water-proof mascara open in her hands, and black, smudgy lines on her nose and cheeks.

A few days later, I did something stupid: I turned my back on her while I folded laundry in Mr. Boy's room. Always the opportunist, the Little Lady sneaked off to my room and quietly, so very, very quietly, shut the door. It was a few minutes before I realized my vocal girl was quiet and no longer with me in Mr. Boy's room. I entered my bedroom, knowing she was in there because of the closed door, and found her once again on my bed.

I'm not sure why she chooses that spot, each time, for her experimentation.

THIS time, it wasn't mascara that was her media of choice. Nope. This time she'd gone big: Bare Minerals powder was all over her face and the duvet. . . toothpaste was smeared on her lips and piled on her fingers. .. and, oh yeah, she was busy spreading the hemorrhoid cream all over her legs.

And THIS time, she had no words. No declaration of what she was doing. The Little Lady knew she was in the wrong! (and also excited to learn she would be getting an impromptu mid-morning bath)

Situation #4, #5, #6, #7, #, 8, #9, #10 -- the Rest of the Week

Hmmm. Let's see. Situations 4-8 were the numerous blow-outs I had to clean up, courtesy of Mr. Boy. A melted exersaucer, thanks to a very silly Mommy, is number 9. And, "Brown Teepee" paint spilling on my shoes rounds out the top #10 of all that happened.

I. Am. EXHAUSTED.

I Might Be Insane

rachel_e_lacy@yahoo.com (Rachel) — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 14:30:00 +0000

This is so very, very sad, but I simply can't help it.

Each morning, it begins -- these thoughts that take over my brain, consuming my day. I think on it while taking care of my kids, imagining the worst possibilities and how they, my sweet babies, would be affected.

Last night, after Mr. Boy's 3:30 AM diaper change, I couldn't go back to sleep thanks to thoughts that kept swirling round and round and round my sleep deprived brain. Did I have all I needed to be prepared? Should I go to the store and start stocking up on the essentials? Will Hubby be around for all that needs to done? Will my children be safe during this time? How do I know when I've done enough to prepare?

Yes. 3:30 AM. Thought after thought. Question after question. All because it's the first week of November, which means . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I. Am. Ready. To. Start. Decorating. For. CHRISTMAS!!!!

(isn't it just so sad!)

Yesterday, I spent HOURS mentally cataloging my trees (yes, plural), ornaments, nutcrackers, and general decorations. I researched stocking patterns, as I've decided that THIS year I am making personalized stockings. I even began making a list of the sweets and goodies that I want to make (mmmmm . . .Divinity and Toffee!).

Please, someone -- ANYONE -- tell me that I'm not the only one!

First Family Photo (and more)

rachel_e_lacy@yahoo.com (Rachel) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 14:36:00 +0000

This is a shameless "for the family" post; we have a Gramie, Papa, Nina, and a Poppi that need to see some Halloween pics!!!

(Zoo Boo -- I'm so glad we purchased a zoo membership; this event was so much fun and the Little Lady is ready to go back!)

(Daddy and his babies . . . and one big Elephant hiney)

(A very tired Dalmatian puppy, suffering from a Halloween candy sugar crash)

(My Little Monkey Boy . . . .can you believe my husband, after our day at the zoo, wanted to add a red and blue "hiney" to this costume? Yeah -- the monkey exhibit inspired him.)

(It doesn't look like he really trusts her as she holds him . . . for the first time completely by herself)

A very tiring but fun Halloween . . . the Little Lady, who LOVED Trick or Treating, is still trying to convince us that we need to let her keep her candy in her room. Um, yeah right!

Thanks, Hubby, For The Big Girl Panties

rachel_e_lacy@yahoo.com (Rachel) — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 19:23:00 +0000

Men. You can't live with them and you just can't shoot them. Well, you could, but then you'd go to jail and they would starve to death in a dirty house.

My poor husband tries to make my life easier. He's always doing something that he thinks is a good idea, one that will "help me out."

This week's good deed? He bought "big girl panties" for the Little Lady. REAL ones -- not the thick, training pant style that I had already purchased. Oh, no. The real, thin, cotton, plastered with princesses kind. You know . . . the kind that doesn't hold liquid very well.

To be fair, we have been talking to her about wearing them, telling her tales of princess underwear and diaper-less days. BUT, I was hoping to postpone potty training till, oh say, January. Yeah, I thought January would be a GREAT month to start. All of our holiday travels would be a thing of the past, and Mr. Boy would be past the newborn stage and need less attention, allowing me to spend more time hovering with The Little Lady around her little personal toilet.

Hubby had different ideas and decided, about three weeks ago, that potty-training needed to start NOW. I can see how he would think it was a good decision, considering how MOMMY is the one home all day and has "all the time in the world" to work on this goal. (sigh)

Last night, during a trip he and the Little Lady took to Target, Hubby bribed her into being good with the promise of BIG GIRL PANTIES. (I guess he didn't realize that she's pretty easy and a $1 bag of popcorn does the trick)

When they came home, she ran through the door, carrying a Target bag, and rushed over to me. "I wanna show you sum-ping!" And, she pulled out a 7-pack of Disney Princess panties. "Yook! I got Big Gurl Pannies!"

Oh, they're so cute. Adorable. . .

Um, they were.

Now, I'm tired of them and we're only on day one! The Little Lady is constantly taking them off so she can "tee-tee." Yeah, I know that's the point, but this game just isn't fun . . . at least, not for Mommy. Once she's "done", I have to stop what I'm doing to help her put them back on. If I don't help, those panties are inside out, backwards, and she's put both legs in one leg-hole. (yes, this has happened more than once)

As soon as I have them back on her, they're off again . . .and she is either heading for the potty (which is oh-so-conveniently here in our living room) OR she is running to our big picture window. Yeah, lucky me - - it's "trash-day" and she keeps waiting for the trashmen . . . stark NAKED in the window. (oy vey, what kind of girl am I raising?)

I'm sooooo over big girl panties right now.

Just like I'm sooooo over the plastic spider ring that she keeps shoving down my nursing tank so it can "see Mommy's boobies."

Anyone need a two year old? Or, an overly helpful husband? Just let me know -- I've got both.

Afternoon Delight: My Moment as a Stripper

rachel_e_lacy@yahoo.com (Rachel) — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 15:29:00 +0000

Yes, it's true. Well-- sort of.

A truck full of young men mistook me (and two friends from my House Church group) for a bunch of strippers. Ahem, excuse me, ~~exotic~~ dancers.

(Sigh)

It was such an innocent trip on a clear Sunday evening. After ~~sticking~~ leaving all of the kiddos with our husbands, it was just us three ladies heading to a girlfriend's house for a night of girls only fellowship. Sounds perfectly normal right? Of course it does! Three "Church Ladies." That's what we were -- modestly dressed, coiffed, and securely buckled in the seats of an unassuming white Dodge pickup.

But, to the men of Houston, I guess Ladies of the Night come in all forms -- even the demure little housewife shape (not that any of us are what I'd call demure and I'm certainly not little!).

One wrong turn. That was all it took to bring on the whoops, hollers, and cat-calls.

Of course, I was the one, after we realized we were on the wrong street, who decided to pull into the "Splendor Adult Entertainment" parking lot in order to turn around. On a side note, what is it with the names of such establishments? SPLENDOR? Seriously? This wasn't a very nice street and the building certainly didn't have anything on the outside that lived up to such an adjective. Cold beige metal siding . . .harsh, cheap lighting . . . a couple of sickly looking Sago Palms. Yeah, really splendorous.

We were only in the parking lot a few seconds -- just long enough to make a quick u-turn (and to shake fingers at some of the older men who were heading into the club . . . who were NOT making eye contact with us). But, those few little grains of time were enough for us to be spotted. Not by the shamefaced attendees previously mentioned -- nope. Our watchers were in a blue pick-up: three young, college aged looking boys. The kind of young boys that think strippers, of any age, are hot.

HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK!

"WOO HOO!" YEAH! WOOOOOO!"

It took the three of us LADIES a few discombobulated seconds to realize these boys were hollering at us. US! Dudes -- we're a bunch of MOMS! Two of us are nursing -- no sexy lingerie in our wardrobes! We weren't wearing flashy, contour-altering make-up . . . our hair wasn't teased and curled. We were all in jeans and tee-shirts. Heck, maternity jeans for me, which are definitely the opposite of sexy!

They followed us down the darkening street, still honking and hoping for our attention, until they finally drove up the entrance ramp to the freeway -- still leaning out of their open windows, grinning from ear to ear at us.

Is it a compliment to us? A testament to our unwavering womanly wiles?

I'm not so sure. It was a Sunday. Late, late afternoon. I've never been in a strip club, but (on TV) Sunday afternoons aren't exactly known for being the "cool, hot girls" shift. But, maybe it is at Splendor's. Maybe that's why it has that name.

Regardless, it was enough to make a trio of church Mommies laugh . . . and give us some fodder for ribbing our husbands when we got back.

Oh yeah, I DEFINITELY told my husband that a bunch of college boys think I'm hot. Capital H-O-T!

Then, I asked if I could please, please go shopping for some NON maternity pants. 'Cause if I'm going to believe those silly boys . . . I definitely need non-stretchy attire.

The Face Says It All

rachel_e_lacy@yahoo.com (Rachel) — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 17:45:00 +0000

Wondering what it's like having a two year old?

'Nuff said.

Semi-Wordless Wednesday

rachel_e_lacy@yahoo.com (Rachel) — Wed, 21 Oct 2009 13:30:00 +0000

Yeah . . . I know I'm cute!

Guess who turned 8 weeks old today? 8 WEEKS!

Can this really be? I no longer have a tiny, wrinkly newborn . . . I have a MAN-CHILD. (Seriously, you, my kid, weigh a TON).

How did this happen and why didn't I realize that this change was occuring? Perhaps my sleep deprived state is to blame, but I missed the moment you transformed from this . . .

to THIS. . .

Now, instead of a confused and angry new one, you are a bubbly, talkative, personality filled little baby boy. You love to smile at your Mommy, giving me both sweet smiles and big ol' grins all day long. My favorite ones, though, are the ones you give me while your nursing. You take a little break, lean back and look into my eyes with the most adorable, precious smile -- as if to let me know I really am your most "favoritest" person in the whole world. (Don't worry -- I do realize this story will mortify you someday and I will refrain from telling it . . . too often, anyway.)

You've also turned into quite the little talker, I might add. We have the most delightful conversations where you, with such animation, tell me all the secrets of being a baby and your take on the world around you. And, we laugh about your silly sister and your crazy daddy. You think they are H.I.L.A.R.I.O.U.S!

I have to admit, prior to meeting you, Mister Boy, I wasn't too sure about a "boy mommy." I wasn't looking forward to ugly boy toys -- insects, dinosaurs, and video games -- and I'd been told that little boys stay in a perpetual state of dirty, noisy chaos.

But, for now, I've found that being your mommy is just like being your sister's mommy: utterly amazing.

Not MY Child Monday

rachel_e_lacy@yahoo.com (Rachel) — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 17:12:00 +0000

(1) MY child did not get soooo excited about her first set of "big girl panties," that she sang (AT THE TOP OF HER LUNGS, mind you) "I got Big Girl Panties," to the tune of "B-I-N-G-O," the entire time we were grocery shopping. No, my child would be a little more ladylike than that.

(2) MY child did not decide that coloring on paper is boring and choose, instead, to try creating her own frescos . . . in TWO rooms of my house. No, my child wouldn't do that -- especially because I do "such" a good job of monitoring her with her crayons. Oh . . .and MY child also never, ever, EVER color on windows. Never.

(3) MY child would not use the phrase "No way, Jose" when speaking to her daddy, and she certainly wouldn't have learned it from her Mommy. Goodness, she most certainly would NOT have heard her Mommy saying that to Daddy.

(4) MY other child did not decide to become a projectile pooping monster for Halloween. . . while getting a diaper change on our new couch. 'Nuff said about that one.

(5) MY child did not tell me that "[Mommy's] hiney is broken." That just wouldn't be applicable at all -- I just had a baby. Of COURSE, my hiney is in PERFECT shape. You could "bounce a quarter off of it." as the saying goes. . . . or not. :(

(6) MY child did not decide to become very, very quiet . . . sneak into the downstairs bathroom . . . pick up the plunger . . . and "stir the water." No, my Little Lady would never do something like that, and she wouldn't decide to wash the walls with that same water. Surely, she is smart enough to know that is just plain GROSS.

(7) MY child did not realize that Mommy is a little incapacitated while nursing, and (therefore) nursing time is the PERFECT time to do everything she has ever wanted to do . . . such as color on walls and stir toilet water. No, my child would not be so sneaky as to try that theory.

Thousand Words Thursday

rachel_e_lacy@yahoo.com (Rachel) — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 19:12:00 +0000

Sometimes the Pumpkin Patch isn't all it's cracked up to be.