{So Wonderful, So Marvelous}

Instagram.

2012-05-30T06:16:00.000-04:00

We should hang out. sowondsomarv

Does anyone remember the “he’s her LOBSTER!” episode of Friends? Ahhhh I miss that show.

Birdie.

2012-05-29T08:13:00.001-04:00

If you’re a longtime reader, you might remember two years ago when my mother signed us all up to decorate a birdhouse for charity. The houses are then auctioned off at the Toledo Farmer’s Market. I ended up doing the house from Up!

Last year, I was nine months pregnant, so I didn’t participate. But the birdhouse? It’s back.

I need help. Lots of help. And quick.

Here she is. My birdhouse of 2012. And she’s naked.

Did I mention, she needs to be dressed by Saturday? I’ve tossed around tons of ideas and nothing fits. {Much like half the clothes in my closet.}

So, I’m asking you. What should I do this year? If I chose your idea, I’m going to send you a little something as a thank you.

I will take all your crazy ideas. Obscure concepts. Thoughts. Themes. Share them in the comments.

Do You Know How To?

2012-05-22T06:41:00.000-04:00

In the last couple weeks, two of my friends posted on Facebook about mowing a lawn for the first time ever. What? Yes, the first time ever mowing a lawn and they are both in their thirties! I think it’s awesome and I have to wonder if they felt excited to be doing something brand new. {Girls, if you are reading, let me know!}

Shortly after, another friend posted that she was watching one of the morning news programs and they were discussing gender-specific chores. Specifically, to not give your children gender based chores.

I have written before how spoiled I am, that Davester of mine he does the vast majority of the dirty work, but it wasn’t always that way. I grew up in a single parent household, so my sister and I had to do things like mow lawns and take out the garbage. My dad taught us how to change a tire the moment we turned 16, it was literally one of my proudest moments when my mom had a flat and I was able to change it for her. Likewise, Dave’s parents taught him how to cook and do laundry and the Air Force taught him how to sew a button back on.

And maybe, we’re odd.

So I want to know…

Do you know how to mow a lawn?

Have you ever changed a tire?

Does your husband know how to cook?

Does he know how to do laundry?

And what will you teach your children? Do you think they should learn how to mow a lawn and do laundry regardless of gender? Or are there clear gender lines in your house?

Happy. With a Side of No Pictures.

2012-05-21T06:40:00.000-04:00

Blogging can sometimes be exhausting.

Oh, I know as a blogger, we’re not supposed to reveal this fact. It’s like Fight Club. We’re not supposed to bitch about blogging in of itself because really, a lot of you who read aren’t bloggers and could care less. Anywho, it’s sometimes a pain in the ass. Just know that I like ~~writing~~ rambling enough that I’m not going anywhere.

I can’t remember why I started writing this post.

Oh, yes. So I’ve been feeling a little burnt out and we have a load of stuff going on right now that is blog-worthy, but here is the thing… sometimes I want to just not. I have this kick ass recipe for grilled broccoli and asparagus. This weekend alone, we went to the zoo, the park, the drive in {Avengers rocked my socks off!} and had friends over for a yummy outdoor barbeque and time in our cheapie blow up pool from Tar-jay. Plus, I came within one day and twenty minutes of my friend Jen’s birth guessing poll, so YAY for baby Katherine’s good timing!

I also took a nap three days in a row. My house is a disaster area. My CRV cargo area was somehow filled with popcorn {that because I am watching what I eat, I couldn’t even partake in!} so the Davester spent the better part of an hour removing car seats and vacuuming every crevice. Diet and exercise is bullshit, but necessary. Plus, at thirty-six years old, I should know that my white ass Irish/Scottish skin needs a slathering of sunscreen or I will burn and yet, I continually neglect to do so.

Just keeping it real.

In summary, I took this weekend off and it felt good. Fight Club.

What did you do?

I Can’t Take Him Seriously Unless He’s Wearing a Hat.

2012-05-18T07:00:00.000-04:00

Shortly after I met the Davester, he shaved his head. He looked utterly ridiculous. It was a cut that not even a mother could love, in fact, his mother did not love it one bit. Even though we had only known each other for a few weeks, I sent him an email at work that said, “Dave, did you lose a bet?”

I was very professional, you can see now why he fell for me.

He looked like a lunatic. I wish I had a picture of it to post, but I am pretty sure that he has disposed of the evidence.

Even to this day, we argue 60% of the time that he gets a haircut. If you are thinking, that is a lot, you would be right. My anxiety level goes to an eleventy billion if we have something important upcoming and he announces casually that he’s going for a cut. Those days, he tells them not to cut it too short or his wife will kill him.

And I probably would. Unless this blog post constitutes pre-meditation, in which case, I was totally kidding. Yep, this is me kidding over here… hey Dave, I am totally NOT kidding!

He goes to a barber and depending on who he gets it either comes out looking normal, but short – or – like he just got back from basic training all over. There is no in between. People, there is a guy named Buzz {I kid you not} who Dave tries to avoid at all costs because he is 70 years old and only does a high and tight. THIS is what I am dealing with. I mean, yes yes, we’ve all had bad hair cuts, but he goes every few weeks so I would think there would be a better average than what he is sporting, or that he would find a real salon to go to, one that offers you something to drink and an US Weekly to peruse.

Wednesday, he came home and I only heard Finn in the kitchen say, “DAD. What happened to your hair?” as a greeting. I knew when he rounded the corner that it was going to be one of those cuts.

He’s been wearing a hat ever since.

Then he told me he’d wear it to bed if I thought it might improve his getting lucky chances. Psssst… Davester, staying away from Buzz would improve your chances even more.

Kinder.

2012-05-16T06:34:00.000-04:00

My little bug is going to kinder next year and dear Lord, I don’t know how I am going to survive this.

I feel like he is ready. It is me, who is not. Not at all.

Last week we went to registration and it has taken me almost a week to write about it. Every time I thought about sitting down, I got all choked up.

My baaaaaaby. {Yes, I know how utterly ridiculous I am.}

They had all of the classrooms open for the kids to go through. So many of his little preschool buddies were also there, it made me so happy that we chose a preschool in the neighborhood. The first room, he was holding tightly to my hand. The second, he was shyly exploring a little more and talking to his friends. By the third, he sat right down and started playing with toys and openly talking to the teacher. Not going to lie, my eyes were welling.

I imagined him in his little uniform, sitting at his little desk in one of these very classrooms, eating his lunch in the cafeteria, and away from me all day.

All day. Away from me. It simultaneously makes me sad and so excited for him. He is becoming independent. He will be taking his manners and humor and kindness and goofiness and intelligence out there, into a new environment. His own environment, one that doesn’t belong to me.

So, that first week in September, I may cry the entire way home, much like I did that first day I went back to work after my maternity leave ended. But, I will put on my happy face for him.

It is what Mamas do.

Pretty please share with me your hints and tips and thoughts about surviving those first school days. For me and for him. But mostly me because I have a sneaking suspicion, he will be just fine.

Crockpot Chicken Tacos

2012-05-15T06:37:00.001-04:00

After Tate was born, my friend Steph invited us over for dinner one evening. She made chicken tacos in the crockpot and they were fabulous. They are now a staple in our house, we modify it slightly and add black beans.

You will need:

1-2 whole boneless skinless chicken breast {cut in half and trimmed of any fat}
1 can red or green enchilada sauce {we prefer the red}
1 packet taco seasoning
1 can water

Pop all of it into the crockpot and cook on high for an hour and a half to two hours or low for 4 hours.

Remove the chicken breasts from the liquid and shred. I used this AWESOME technique that I found on Pinterest with great results, you put the chicken in the Kitchen Aid with the paddle attachment and turn it on... the chicken gets perfectly shredded by magic. It was like David Copperfield himself was in my kitchen. Magic, I tell you! I’ll never go back to shredding it with a fork again.

Add the shredded chicken back to the liquid and add one can of black beans if you like. Bring everything back up to temp & serve!

Serve with all of the taco fixings your family enjoys!

Nestle Drumstick Review + Giveaway

2012-05-14T06:05:00.000-04:00

We are inching closer and closer to summer here in Ohio. We keep getting little glimpses of it--an 80-degree day here, an 85-degree day there. It is just enough to break out the shorts, open up the windows and stick toes in the grass. This weekend, we did just that. Off we went to spend some time with the cousins. It was nothing special, just some time playing on the swing set and enjoying this gorgeous weather. We parents got to sit on the deck with the little ones and watch the boys having a blast.

When we broke out the box of Nestlé® Drumstick® Lil’ Drums Caramel Delights, they were so excited. Myles and Finn chose the Vanilla Caramel Crunch cone and Colin went for the Caramel Graham cone. We had never tried the Lil’ Drums before, and they are the PERFECT size for kids. At just 120 calories, they aren’t too shabby for the adults either. The boys were able to enjoy the cones themselves…even if Colin started his from the bottom. I’m definitely going to remember to keep a box in the freezer for summer playdates and after-dinner treats.

There are so many flavors to choose from, there is a cone for everyone. You can check out all of the flavors on the Nestlé Drumstick Facebook page. I hate to play favorites, but I always go for the Classic Vanilla Caramel. With the peanuts and crunchy chocolate shell coupled with an extra ribbon of caramel on the inside, it is hard to beat the original. You already know my feelings about filling-less Drumsticks, but if you go with the variety pack, there is something for everyone. My sister would dump the Classic in a second for the Cookie Dipped. We’re all dying to try the new Pretzel Dipped Drumstick cones; sadly we weren’t able to find them, but we’re keeping an eye out. Pretzels and chocolate and ice cream? Sign me up for that sweet, salty, crunchy combo.

Let’s hope Mother Nature gets her act together soon. We are ready for this warm weather all the time. The season for barbeques, long walks with Monty, baseball, fireworks, afternoons at the park or the zoo, and days by the pool are quickly approaching, and we can’t wait!

So tell me, peeps, what is your favorite summer activity with your friends and family? One So Wonderful, So Marvelous reader will win a $100 Walmart gift card!

Rules:

No duplicate comments.

You may receive (2) total entries by selecting from the following entry methods:

Leave a comment in response to the sweepstakes prompt on this post
Tweet about this promotion and leave the URL to that tweet in a comment on this post
Blog about this promotion and leave the URL to that post in a comment on this post
For those with no Twitter or blog, read the official rules to learn about an alternate form of entry.

This giveaway is open to US Residents age 18 or older. Winners will be selected via random draw, and will be notified by e-mail. You have 72 hours to get back to me, otherwise a new winner will be selected.

The Official Rules are available here.

This sweepstakes runs from 5/14/2012 to 6/15/2012.

Be sure to visit the Nestlé Drumstick page on BlogHer.com, where you can read other bloggers’ reviews and find more chances to win!

Motherhood in Numbers.

2012-05-11T05:38:00.000-04:00

Your ideal amount of sleep in a night divided by 2 = Actual amount of sleep you receive. {Divide by 3 for the first year and from 16-18 years old.}

Number of times each year you will feel like a bad mom = 14.

Actual number of times that will be true = 0.

Excitement level of your husband when you show him your boobs, multiplied by 400 = excitement level of your nursing 6 month old when you show them your boobs.

School projects you will help on = 27.

Number of minutes you will spend watching them sleep = 12,383.

Bits of {unsolicited} advice you’ll receive over the course of your motherhood = 457,689.

Number of times you will stifle a laugh when you realize you are saying the same things to your children that your mom said to you = 146.

The number of moms they get = 1.

Make it count.

Happy Mother’s Day to my Mama and all of you too!

{I would love to have you add your Motherhood Numbers in the comments.}

Crush.

2012-05-09T05:49:00.000-04:00

Make a Scooby Doo Tag.

2012-05-08T05:36:00.000-04:00

For Finn’s Scooby Doo Party, we made all of the kiddos tags, just like Scooby. I had considered making them out of paper, but wanted something a little more sturdy. My friend Holly at 504 Main had posted a project previously about using computer printed Shrinky Dink paper, so I thought I’d give it a go. And since we were making them ourselves, we could customize them with their own initials.

It turned out better than I had imagined! You can pick up the Shrinky Dink paper at Michaels. It is a little pricey, so try to use a 40% off coupon if you can.

First, I designed the tags using Microsoft Word. {The squares are 3.75” x 3.75” with rounded corners} Then, using Word Art, I added in the initials. {I used BadaBoom font} You will need to make your colors 50% lighter than you would like them to turn out. As the paper shrinks, it will condense and darken the colors.

Then, print your tags on the Shrinky Dink paper and carefully cut out. Try to hold the non-printed parts of the paper while cutting or lines can smudge slightly.

After you cut out the tags, you will need to punch a hole in it. The punched circle will shrink as well, so if you are using thicker string or ribbon, you may want to find a larger punch. Preheat the oven to 300 degrees.

You can bake them on a brown paper bag or on parchment paper.

Then, pop them in the oven for five minutes and watch the Shrinky Dinky magic happen.

You’ll notice that they are still slightly wavy when they are done. When you pull them out of the oven, you will turn them over and press down {I used a piece of cardboard and set something heavy on top} until they cool completely so they will be completely flat.

We strung ours with bakers twine. The kiddos laced fruit loops on them and then had fun eating them like candy necklaces.

Confession.

2012-05-07T11:08:00.001-04:00

Lyndsey and I used to drive all over town and then put a dollar or two worth of gas {back when gas wasn’t even a dollar!} into my mom’s car so she didn’t know we had driven it.

I smoked for over ten years and quit when we were trying to get pregnant with Finn. It has been over six years and sometimes I still dream about smoking, then wake up feeling guilty about it.

I sometimes don’t feel like I am old enough {in reality, I am MORE than old enough} to be someone’s mom.

My dining room table has been buried under a pile of crafting stuff for the last two months.

What is your confession of the day?

Scooby Doo Party

2012-05-04T05:40:00.000-04:00

Finnegan’s fifth birthday ended up being a total blast. He had a smile on his face from start to finish

Each place setting had a little sectioned plate that had a few Scooby Snack graham crackers, Scooby gummy treats, a Scooby tag with their initials and a mini cup of fruit loops, so they could make their own {edible} Scooby collar. I will have a tutorial for you next week on how to make the collar tags! They also had a Scooby party blower, a Scooby tattoo, Color Magic markers and Color Magic Scooby coloring pages. The green and orange bags held the party favor, a bottle of Scooby Doo bubble bath.

The Food: Finn wanted the food to be creepy. Part of what he loves is the ‘scary’ factor to the stories. We pulled out the Halloween decorations and added some of the Scooby villains to the food names. I just wanted a giant sub because Scooby and Shaggy are always eating comically large sandwiches. Here is the menu we settled on:

The Spector Sub Sandwich, three feet long!
San Franpsycho Fruit
The Creeper Coleslaw
Penguin Pasta Salad
Charlie the Robot Chips
Black Knight Iced Tea
Lord Infernicus Lemonade

The Desserts:

Goblin King Cookies which were awesome cookies in the shape of the Mystery Machine, Scooby, Scooby tags with Finn’s initials, number fives, and dog bones
Ghost of Captain Cutler Cupcakes were mini cupcakes, the chocolate had Scooby Snacks on top, we also had strawberry with cream cheese icing
Old Iron Face Oreos were sea salt chocolate covered Oreos and had green tinted white chocolate ‘slime’ drizzled on
Ghost Clown gummies
Cheese Monster cheesecake dip served with Scooby Snacks graham crackers served in bright orange dog bowls
and of course, BIRTHDAY CAKE!

The Photo Booth: We had Daphne’s hair, Shaggy’s chin, Fred’s ascot, Scooby’s collar, and Velma’s hair and glasses.

Sources:

Location – Sur St Clair Gallery
Scooby Doo Cookies + Finn’s Cake – Stephanie’s Patisserie {if you are local, HIGHLY recommend!}
Scooby Doo Photo Booth Props – Kitty Dune Cuts on Etsy {she rushed to get them to me on time, FAB customer service!}
Scooby party blowers. turquoise blue dessert plates – Party City
polka dot napkins, bright green plates, orange and green favor bags – Target
turquoise and lime green sectioned kids plates, Color Wonder Scooby pages & markers – Walmart
dessert napkins - Ikea

Tons of Scooby Inspiration for your own Scooby Doo party!

Coconutty. Heavy on the Nutty Part.

2012-05-03T05:19:00.000-04:00

If you’ve been reading So Wonderful, So Marvelous for long, you will know that my husband Dave gets a lot of harebrained ideas.

A lot. And most of them involve thinking he is a dude from Top Chef.

Michelle, I should learn to make sushi. Yes, I know the sticky rice tasted like vinegar and I ruined a pan, but I’ll get it. Michelle, I am going to make my own peanut sauce. Michelle, I just got this mini hibachi because I NEED to use charcoal for these chicken satay. Michelle, Bridget said I can have her mandolin, what if I promise to use the finger guard? Michelle, let’s make a $47 apple pie.

OK, OK, that last one was me, but all the rest are all Dave. He and Finn together though? TROUBLE. I am dreading when Finn is a teen and can escalate the craziness with Dave right there egging him on.

The latest?

We are at the grocery store and Finn talks Dave into getting a coconut.

Seriously? How are you going to open that thing Dave??

I don’t know yet. It can’t be that hard!

Solid plan.

You can see my trepidation since the thumb cutting incident resulted in antibiotics and a tetanus shot.

The thing is, I gave in because when we were young, Lyndsey and I talked my dad into this very thing and we thought it was SO cool. And don’t forget, it was pre-internet when you didn’t have instructions. {Oh, thank God for instructions.} I think my dad cracked ours with a hammer until it broke into a bunch of pieces. Dave said when he did it as a kid there was a vice grip present and he thinks maybe a drill.

I laid out the rules for the Davester. These are things I would like to avoid… vice grips mixed with coconuts, Dave losing a finger, Finn losing an eye, anyone going to the emergency room.

Finn was beside himself with excitement. Tate was mouthing, “are you MAD woman? Don’t let Daddy have a hammer and a coconut!”

First, there was punching of the holes with the nail set, but any old pointy thing will do according to the Davester, master of the coconuts. Then the draining of the coconut water.

And the cracking… against the stairs because… and I quote, “people on islands do this shit all the time.” Well, that fact and I told him not to use our ridiculously expensive chefs knife for the job. More for the fingers than the knife, but I digress.

What up now Sucka? I got fresh coconut AND all my fingers!

And then they peeled it and made smoothies with it. Dave saved a piece of the shell so Finn could take it in for the science center in school.

That Dad of his is pretty damn cool.

Finnisms.

2012-05-01T11:40:00.001-04:00

Finn: {Talking to himself.} Girls are bad, boys are good.

Me: Excuse me?

Finn: Girls are bad. Boys are good. Uh. Well, not you. Um, you’re good. But Tate is a bad walker.

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Finn: Dad, why are there always carrots in throw up?

Dave: You didn’t even eat carrots yesterday!

Finn: I know!

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Finn: Mom, do you know where the hippopotamus went?

Me: Under that blanket.

Finn: How did you know that?

Me: Mamas know everything.

Finn: But you didn’t know the bacon piece.

{Earlier we had a conversation about ham being a pig and bacon being a pig, just different parts of the pig and he asked me which piece bacon was. That much, I have no clue and it’s not really something I’m going to google for fear of losing my love for bacon forever.}

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Finn: Dad, what is a loser name? Daaaad. WHAT is a loser name?

Dave: Buddy, you have to hold on a second.

Finn: What is a loser name?

Dave: It’s a USER name.

Finn: What’s a user name? Oh, I get it, like F-I-N-N. Right?

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Finn: Mom, I don’t watch Mr Roger’s Neighborhood anymore.

Me: Ok…

Finn: Well, it’s a kid show, but it had a grownup in it. And it tells a kid story, but I just can’t watch it anymore.

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Finn: I got the moves of Jagga. I got the moves of Jagga. I gottt the mooooooooves of Jagga.

50 Shades of WTF + A Giveaway.

2012-04-30T10:14:00.001-04:00

I just read 50 Shades of Grey. I thought about reading it after my two sisters talked non-stop about the books. They were raving about how much they were sucked in and couldn’t put the trilogy down. There were tales of text conversations between the two of them that they were not eating or sleeping because they couldn’t stop reading.

I really didn’t feel like reading the book. Three-quarters of you might hate me for this statement, but I am going to say it anyway… I wasn’t a fan of Twilight. OK, wait, I WAS a fan of Twilight, I blazed through the first two books, but then I got half way through the third book and hated it. So, I put it down and didn’t look back. Every time I talk to a Twi-Hard they look at me, mouths agape at the tragedy of this. Let’s add insult to injury here and say that Robert Pattison freaks me the fuck out, he looks like a creep so I haven’t watched the movies either. No matter how many times my sister Elise calls him a dimepiece, he still reminds me of a dirty carnie.

Where was I?

Oh yes, so all of the hype was that this was Twilight inspired fan fiction. Which obvs? I wanted to avoid like the plague. Initially I thought it was another vampire book. So, I didn’t get the book. I ignored the hype blazing all over the internet. And then, didn’t get the book some more.

And then my sister said my MOM was going to read it. So, I felt legally obligated to read it because hello? My mother reading smut? It’s like hell hath frozen over, my friends.

I caved.

Dave went to pick up the book Friday night after I asked all of you your thoughts on Facebook. He also came home laughing that the book was in the romance section. Here he was, a dude perusing the romance section on a Friday night, he’s pretty sure it cost him his man-card.

I cracked it open and started reading.

The book sucks, people.

Yes, the sex is totally hot and the story is decent, if totally unbelievable. BUT, it’s so poorly written that I can’t get past the inconsistencies and half-thoughts. I’m pretty sure the grammar would send my friend Emily right over the edge.

It is as bad as reading this blog… yeah, THAT bad.

I mean if you take it for what it is, which is p0rn, you’re good. But if you’re expecting an actual book because you’ve paid money and someone has actually published and {you assume} EDITED the thing… well, you’d be better off surfing the 6,270,000 p0rn fiction sites on the net and get your goods for free. Yes, I Googled, there are that many. Who knew?

You all have assured me that the second book is so much better, so I am borrowing a copy and giving it a chance. I do want to see how the story ends, but I’m hoping the second doesn’t have me tearing my hair out.

And so you don’t have to buy it, I’m passing my copy on to one of you! This is a quickie {much like the sex between Christian and Ana} leave a comment and I will pick a winner tomorrow night (5/1) at 11:59 pm.

THE WINNER IS KAREN, COMMENT #7…. Well, really it was Emily Comment #1, but she didn’t want it…. then it was LaurenLeigh Comment#11, but she’s already reading it. But then it was KAREN!

Infertility Awareness Week.

2012-04-25T14:11:00.001-04:00

I felt like a piece of my very being was missing. And something so simple, something you have been painstakingly preventing your entire life until you were finally “ready,” is held out of your reach no matter how much you stretch to grasp it.

It doesn’t just go away when you have a child. Or two children. Or five children. The pain, it’s still there.

It is excruciating and I wish it didn’t happen to anyone.

But it did.

It happened to me.

And to Bea. And Laura. And Ashlee. And Amy. And Stace. And Lisa. And Rachel.

And probably someone you know and care about.

When it Rains.

2012-04-24T09:40:00.000-04:00

I’ve been super lucky that at 87 and 88 years old, both of my Grandmothers are healthy and living on their own. I know it is a rare thing and I am incredibly thankful.

Meme, my mom’s mom, decided to give up driving this year because she just wasn’t comfortable behind the wheel anymore. Other than that, they are both ridiculously mobile and healthy for being two old chicks. GramCrackers, my dad’s mom, is still as feisty at 87 as she was at 67.

Anyone that meets her knows, this a blessing AND a curse.

Saturday, they were both at Finnegan’s birthday party, talking and laughing and having a great time.

Sunday, they were BOTH in the hospital. There is really nothing in the world that can take the wind out of your sails more than getting a phone call that GramCrackers had fallen down the stairs at her house. But then, eight hours later, an emergency call that Meme felt like she was having a heart attack completely sent me over the edge.

We didn’t sleep much Sunday night.

Gram apparently skipped a step and went tumbling down ten or so stairs. She has three broken ribs and a broken scapula along with a fair amount of bumps and bruises and scrapes to go along with it. She’s incredibly sore and they want to keep her for nearly a week.

They are still running tests and trying to figure out just what happened to Meme. The tests are {thankfully} all coming back good so far. She’ll be coming home tonight.

Thankfully they are both at the same hospital, so visits have just meant an elevator ride and short walk.

So there is that.

Send good thoughts, please. Meme and GramCrackers could certainly use them.

Five?

2012-04-23T05:48:00.000-04:00

Daddy and I are so incredibly proud of the young man you are becoming Finnegan. I can’t believe that five years ago you came screaming into our lives and added unimaginable joy {and tons of sleepless nights} to our family.

Happy 5th Birthday, my favorite boy in the whole world.

Yeaaaah Tag Team, Back Again.

2012-04-19T06:34:00.000-04:00

My husband thankfully doesn’t buy into the whole “you’re home with the kids, so the kids are your responsibility” thing. The Davester is a team player. Mostly. Which is great in the middle of the night when you’ve just gone to bed and you’re up an hour later. And two hours after that. And another hour after that.

We’re having sleeping issues up in this piece.

Our poor little Tay has been sick for the last two weeks and that means, no sleep for anyone. Well, Finn could likely sleep through a bomb going off in the house, so he’s blissfully unaware of her night time antics. The Davester and I though?

Up.

A lot.

Sick babies are the suck. You feel so terribly for them because they can’t take anything, they can’t communicate that they feel awful, and they just want to be held.

She coughs and wakes herself up. She sneezes and wakes herself up. She tosses and turns and wakes herself up. He gets her and I nurse her to sleep or pat her back and hold her. Or I go get her and he makes a bottle. When she falls back asleep, he quietly carries her back to her crib.

She finally slept peacefully last night and the Davester is so paranoid that she hasn’t been up, he wakes up in the middle of the night and checks on her just to make sure she’s ok. I was so tired, I slept right through it.

Remember Honey, when being up all night meant something fun?

Yeah, me too.

36.

2012-04-17T10:12:00.001-04:00

Finn asked me yesterday if I was going to look REALLY old today. And then he asked me if I was going to have a Strawberry Shortcake party.

I was 19 years old when my mom turned 36.

I’m not sure which is more grey hair inducing… having a 19 year old or having a 9 month old. Either way, you’re not getting a lick of sleep.

It sure feels a lot younger than I thought it would when I was 19. Thirty-six felt so OLD. It’s almost forty. Forty! Forty meant that my mom had one foot in the grave.

It never ceases to make me laugh thinking about what an idiot I was when I was young.

Spring Break.

2012-04-16T05:43:00.000-04:00

Ahhh spring break, you are finally over. I can’t say that I am going to miss you terribly. We spent 95% of you with a sick baby Tate, Finn not wanting to put any clothes on and watching too much tv, a stir crazy Michelle and the Davester working. By Thursday night, I’d had enough. I called my sister Elise in Lexington and asked her if she wanted some visitors for Friday and Saturday.

Any time I dangle the kids in front of her, she’s a goner.

So I packed up the family truckster with a trunk full of Lord knows what baby gear and off we went.

Now listen here, I pride myself on being a ~~good~~ great traveller, we made it in Europe for two weeks with just a rollaboard each. I don’t know what happens after someone has children but the gear for those little munchkins is like two hundred fold what a grown up can get away with.

As evidence I offer this. See that suitcase full of clothes? Totally not the right stuff and not nearly enough for the little one that puked on herself both on the way there and the way home. Thank you Carter’s Outlet {in a torrential downpour} for saving our butts. The camera? Not even used once {thank you Instagram} the whole trip. We didn’t use the stroller either since Aunt Lisey wanted to carry her all the time.

The trip, albeit totally short, was just what we needed. I had a great early birthday dinner at Saul Good. We got to attend a brunch for Mom’s Weekend at Elise’s sorority since Colleen was in Florida.

We went to the Liquor Barn. I drank red bull and cotton candy vodkas with my sister and her roommates. We spent a ridiculous amount of time laughing and a ridiculously small amount of time sleeping.

It was like being back in college again.

Except I’m old. And have kids. And a Davester. And an SUV with a serious amount of crap in it.

Settle a disagreement between the Davester and I… did you go on vacation for Spring Break when you were a kid? Do you take your school aged kids on vacation for their break?

Call Me Cam.

2012-04-12T05:42:00.000-04:00

I came to the realization last night that I am Cam from Modern Family. Ok, so I am not a gay man, but everything else is a fit. Not only am I the plumper, more creative, stay at home, less straight-laced partner in our marriage, but I have no filter. Did you see the episode when Lily, their preschooler drops the F-bomb and Cam starts giggling uncontrollably? Mitchell gives him the look. You know the one that says, you are supposed to be a grownup!

Rest easy… Finn isn’t swearing. Yes, yes, I know you’re shocked it hasn’t happened yet. So, what inappropriate behavior has me in giggles as Dave gives me the look?

We’re back to calling the Davester by his first name. It went away for a few months, but now it’s back in full effect. Not only that, but instead of Dave, Finnegan is calling his daddy, David.

I am sorry. It is funny. I’m even laughing as I type this, it’s so ridiculous.

He does it because he knows that Dave gets bent about it. He asked me months ago if he could call me Michelle, so I told him he could. I really don’t care, I call my mom Janet most of the time. That was the end of that, he knew I didn’t care, so he’s never uttered anything other than Mama. Dave on the other hand, made a big stink about it and got his little brain working and BAM.

Instant way to get under ~~David’s~~ Daddy’s skin.

I am pretty sure my laughing about it doesn’t help, but it’s just so damn funny. He’s doing it in a completely natural, straight faced way that I find utterly hilarious.

I think Dave finds it a little funny too, but he’s so far into the stern parent role that he can’t go back now. Oh, no, when Dave commits to something, he commits. So instead, he has taken to the ignore it and hope it goes away approach.

Did your kids ever do this? {Someone PLEASE say I’m not the only one who laughs her ass off when this happens.} Is there hope that Dave will return to being Daddy again soon? How would you handle it?

Scooby Doo Party Inspiration.

2012-04-11T06:41:00.000-04:00

We have Finn’s 5th birthday coming up. How is my baby FIVE years old?

He was allowed to choose five friends this year and he made his bestie selections pretty quickly.

We’re going Scooby this year, Finn’s current obsession. It will be complete with a giant sandwich and dog bowl serving dishes. Here is our inspiration board, I can’t wait to show you all of the fun little details… right after I stop crying that he’s so freaking grown up.

And she’s off.

2012-04-10T05:57:00.000-04:00

So, this happened.

I have ~~freak~~ early walking children. She’s been flirting with walking for the last month and Friday, she just decided that enough was enough. Off she went.

Nine months. As long as it took for me to carry her. That is how long it took her to figure out how to get away from me.

My sweet daredevil girl.