The Mommy Therapy

Ten Things, Seven Days Late, Two Hours After I Should Have Been In Bed, Stupid Numbers

noreply@blogger.com (The Mommy Therapy) — Tue, 07 May 2013 03:45:00 +0000

I'm behind on things lately. I'm so uncomfortably behind.

I can't figure out dinner or laundry or teacher appreciation week if my life depended on it. I'll be impressed if I make it to all my Mother's Day Teas this week without losing my mind.

There's a monthly blog post "party" in which I love to participate on Emmy's blog. You can check out the meme here. It's titled 10 Things to Smile About.

I think I like it because it forces me to think about things I'm enjoying in my life rather than my more regular venting. Don't misunderstand, I love my venting. I call it The Mommy Therapy for a reason. I truly feel I can work through some things because I have this outlet. It's nice to highlight the absurd though. Everyone should do that every now and then.

So, I'm a week late, but here it is, Ten Things to Smile About.

1. My fruit stand.

I know that sounds confusing, like perhaps I opened an actual fruit stand on the side of the road where I can sell all the produce I grow at my house. Unfortunately I don't grow any produce at my house so my fruit stand would be all store bought fruit, or fake fruit.

This might not work out so well since I'd have to really up charge for a box of raisins to cover all my expenses. Those fruit stands don't just pay for themselves. Or they might normally, but mine wouldn't.

So, I'll just be happy about this fruit stand (pictured below.)

I used to have multiple fruit bowls on the counter and it was really, really annoying. Now I have this and life is so much better.

At least in the fruit department.

2. My children creating together.

All three of my kids decided to make treasure maps tonight, and it was adorable to watch them all work.

Love.

3. Homemade Donuts

I made homemade, pumpkin donuts last Sunday. Despite Cole's cheerful expression below, moments later he was in tears due to a fierce hatred of these donuts.

I loved them though and that's pretty much all that matters when it comes to preparing food in this house. I ate five of them.

Five donuts.

They were pumpkin though, that's five vegetables. Or is a pumpkin a fruit?

Crap, my fruit stand would totally fail.

4. New Girl

I've mentioned it before, but I can't begin to describe how much I love this show. It is hilarious and simply awesome. If you aren't watching New Girl then you are off your rocker.

Do it.

Do it now.

5. Does the photo below look like a small box of teeth?

At Christmas time, my parents brought this small wooden box of nasty to my house to share all of my saved childhood teeth. Because that's not weird at all.

My parents have saved everything over the years and it continues to be the source of so much amusement and joy. I wish I were a saver so I could give my kids the excitement of receiving all their former teeth.

Cole currently thinks this is the coolest thing EVER.

If that's surprising to you, you haven't been reading long enough.

6. The Pampered Chef

I'm still loving my Pampered Chef business, and especially going to people's houses and doing cooking shows, but I honestly don't know where I would be without these two awesome essentials.

The first has given me so many FAST weeknight meals.

This has made dicing onions or any other vegetables, as well as preparing salsa, pesto, etc., crazy easy. Love it.

I'm a nerd.

7. My Dog Isn't A Total Piece of Crap Anymore

While our pool has been under construction, our dog, Bea, has been the source of much, much pain for me.

She escaped out of the fence since it was mostly gone and then peed and pooped inside because we never wanted to let her outside since she would run away.

It was a vicious, disgusting cycle that forced me to loathe my dog.

Now that the fence is back up and we have resurrected putting her in her kennel when we are gone, I sort of like my dog again. Her freshly groomed self can be checked out below where Cole is choking her.

He's not really choking her, it just looks like it because he's forcing her to turn her head toward me.

It's really sweet, disguised as pretty annoying.

8. Nora Roberts

I don't know her personally, or really think she's that amazing of an author, but she's easily accessible on my Kindle to fill my mind with a mindless story that very closely resembles a chick-flick. I am really loving how mindless her books are right now.

No offense Nora.

I have read a book and a half in the last week and despite feeling slightly less intelligent, I'm extraordinarily entertained....and I appreciate that.

9. Rugs!

Since having a dog whom regularly peed and pooped inside over the course of the last few months, I am elated to have a few new rugs to make our house smell less and less like urine.

You might think that sounds like a bad thing, but then you might be nuts.

Here they are....first one has the fabric for our future sofa draped next to it. (Despite Cindy Crawford's awesome commercials, we decided to not go with the denim sofa she expertly crafted for her new line at Rooms to Go. Who is buying the denim couch these days? Who?)

Don't tell me if you think these two look awful together, I can't change it now and I would just have to feel all sorts of grumpy toward you. Who wants that?

Do I like grey and yellow?

Absolutely not. How trendy. I'm WAY more original than that.

Or not.

It was all over Target, what choice did I have?

10. It's ALMOST done

Longest pool project in the history of pool projects. We have dragged this thing out since February, but the end is in sight and I am over the freakin' moon when I think about it being done and being able to use this with my family this summer. Wa-hoo!

Thanks for indulging me, despite being a whole week late on joining this meme.

What are you happy about?

*******************************************************

FYI If you haven't liked my Pampered Chef Facebook page you need to do it. NOW!

I post recipes and tips and, well, it's more or less helpful. It's not like it's going to hurt you.

I don't think.

Search for Leslie's Pampered Chef on Facebook.

Stella Style

noreply@blogger.com (The Mommy Therapy) — Tue, 30 Apr 2013 03:33:00 +0000

Stella has her own "thing" going on lately.

Not too long ago Stella went to school wearing a brown and orange flowered shirt paired with red tights with apples on them, and running shoes.

The end.

No shorts, skirt, dress, or pants of any form or fashion. Tights, that's it folks.

Evidence:

I know you are probably fearful of the future of Stella's clothing choices if we're already making pants optional, but I promise to view proper attire as a war worth fighting as soon as she stops proclaiming that she has a little "gina"* and Mommy has a BIG "gina." *

("Gina" is pronounced jI-na in this disturbing instance.)

I just can't fight her these days on clothes when she is attempting to sneak Benedryll topical lotion to her room to rub over her entire body. (Sounds like an exaggeration, but it's really not. I'm just grateful I discovered her before she applied the lotion to her "gina.")

Further evidence of what I am up against in the clothing selections:

I have never understood the expression "terrible twos" for my children. Granted Stella is technically two for another month, but the worst of the tantrums and defiance always starts and perseveres well through age three for my offspring.

Stella is no exception. The closer she gets to three, the more challenging things are around here.

We have tantrums over anything and everything she is allowed to do or not do.

I don't feel she's doing this more than the boys did, or more often than "normal" (whatever that is) but it is really cramping my style lately.

Stella's style on the other hand....

No sign of cramping in the near future.

Emails From The Past

noreply@blogger.com (The Mommy Therapy) — Mon, 15 Apr 2013 01:01:00 +0000

I love technology.

A few days ago my parents' (yes, they share,) email account sent me a reply to an email I sent out almost five years ago.

Here was the message I received:

Afj;lkasdjf ;sdalkjfldsa;kfj sdal;kfj asd;lkfj sda;lkfj adslk;fj dsal;fkj sdal;kj

Sdfasdlkfj asdl;kfj asdl;kfj sda;lkfj

Dfjsdl;k jfasd;lkjf sda;lkj f

I assume that neither of my parents typed up this heartfelt message last week. It seems unlikely that they were finally catching up on their inbox from five years ago.

I did receive this message at 8:15 PM though, so perhaps the Chardonnay and light beer were flowing during dinner and they decided to work on their correspondence. Emails can get overwhelming to keep up with over time.

Intoxicated emailing parents or messed up email system, either way it was fun to read what I had emailed about Aiden and Cole's first day of "school" from 2008 and thought I would share.

Hi everyone. I thought I would send a quick synopsis of Aiden and Cole's first day at Mother's Day Out and save a few phone calls.

I am WAY too busy to call you all individually, obviously.

We all started the day around 4:30 am with Cole's screams, so it was a little rough at the beginning of the day.

I dropped Aiden off without any problems and he was excited to see that the cars he had played with during Meet The Teacher Night were still there for him. He was also very excited to see Jackson and Henry from his class last year, but they were definitely second place to the cars.

His teachers were pretty busy when I picked him up but his account of the day revolves primarily around his teachers saying it was time to stop playing with the toys, he put a toy in the basket and then he cried and cried and cried and the tears came down....I couldn't get any other details. I'm assuming he LOVED it because that feels best.

I also dropped Cole off without any problems, primarily because I don't think he really knew what was going on and was distracted by a cooler, fresher version of one of his favorite toys at home.

Apparently Cole is the youngest child in his class and the only one that isn't walking and eating solely finger food. Oh, and he is the only boy with seven girls. They sleep on nap mats and sit in chairs for meals....this is not Cole's current level of living.

So when I picked him up his paper said that he had a "sad day and cried off and on all day." He did sleep on a mat but oddly enough wouldn't eat much of anything. He did take two more steps when we got home so maybe all the girls are teaching him to walk? He was VERY excited to see me when I picked him up so we'll see what happens when I drop him off on Friday now that he's on to the fact that he stays and I do not.

Oh, both teachers separately mentioned that Cole has the loudest scream they have ever heard in a child his age....quite a compliment coming from a 60 year old lady that has worked in childcare her whole life. I'm so proud...and validated in my complaints.

I'm not sure Cole will be learning much grammar while attending Hyde Park this year though. The comments on his report sheet were, "cry but done real good after music," and "I rock him sleep."

We'll just have to work on grammar and sentence structure at home.

Hope everyone is doing well.

love, Leslie

So basically nothing has changed.

Hope everyone had an awesome weekend!

Alex LOVES When I Leave Town

noreply@blogger.com (The Mommy Therapy) — Tue, 09 Apr 2013 04:05:00 +0000

I just returned from a quick trip to Chicago to meet my friend Kathryn's baby and see my girls.

It was awesome.

Is there anything better than being with people you just genuinely LOVE?

I suppose the answer to that is yes, because I'm around people I love all the time.

In fact, I'm around three of them far too often at times, causing me to actually have to schedule a time to leave town. Without them.

Perhaps I meant people you genuinely LOVE, AND never ask you assist them in the bathroom unless you are also simultaneously laughing so hard you think you might explode or you are trying to keep them from peeing on their wedding dress.

People that only ask you to prepare them food if by "prepare" you really mean order, or grab more from the counter because you're already getting up for more wine.

People who actually enjoy waiting for you to try on your sixth pair of pants at Lululemon and die laughing when your butt is so tightly squeezed in to a pair of lounge pants that there is no other option but to flaunt it for a moment because it's so ridiculous.

All those thing pretty much eliminate my children.

It was a fast trip, but it did give plenty of time for things to appropriately fall apart around here.

Alex, by his own admission, was shell shocked by the time he picked me up from the airport. I think he might have been crying, but I couldn't swear to it. He kept telling me he couldn't believe he was so inadequate at caring for his own children.

(I too am often baffled by this, but so grateful that he keeps trying that I do my best to not say a word.)

Parts of the house looked like a crime scene, only the kitchen looking pristine from what I later learned was a very concentrated effort by Alex to do something really well. Also, he didn't really use the kitchen much so success was written all over that goal.

There were signs of q struggle, excessive technology dependency, movie viewing involving a four letter word, "interesting" food, giant carpet stains, piles of toys/old food/dirty towels/cleaning rags, and the sure sign of desperation...new toys from an "I don't know what else to do to contain them," trip to Target.

On top of everything else, Aiden starting vomiting Saturday night. Cole showed Alex the "ant bites" I thought I had been treating for four days and apparently it's poison ivy all up his legs and spreading to his arms. Stella was just Stella, but these days that is enough.

It's tough to play pretend kitchen up to her standards, and hold the rest of this house together

Alex had to endure a twenty minute tantrum because Stella wanted to her water in "Autumn's cup" Saturday night. Unfortunately Alex had no clue that this means she wants the hot pink cup we borrowed when we were at her friend Autumn's house four months ago.

(The amount of information I hold in my head about such nonsense is frightening.)

Thankfully he had a wonderful attitude about it when I got home and instead of saying he would never be alone with them again, he commented that he needs to be more involved on the weekends so he isn't so lost when I'm not here.

Could I have won anymore from going away this weekend?

Unfortunately now I'm back to finishing taxes, grocery lists, laundry, and wrangling children.

But the memory of this glorious margarita lunch with my girls' is still bringing a smile to my face.

There's a skylight over our table, just in case you are baffled by this.

It's A Lot Like Beauty And The Beast

noreply@blogger.com (The Mommy Therapy) — Fri, 29 Mar 2013 04:30:00 +0000

...except it's nothing like that.

I just have that "Be Our Guest," song in my mind and it seemed important to work it in to this post and the title seemed like the logical location.

Why do I have "Be Our Guest," in my mind?

I am the GUEST BLOGGER on The Mommy Mess today...as in right now.

I think this means I have reached a certain level of fame, so hopefully I won't turn into another cautionary tale like Lindsey Lohan and Amanda Bynes. I could totally be stealing stuff and wearing a shirt on my head tomorrow, please help me overcome this!

It's best just to head on over and read my ramblings of enjoying these young years, shedding guilt, how to stop and smell the roses, and basically become a better person...seriously, it's all in one simple blog post where I also discuss new underwear and dead rabbits.

You can click on the button below...or right here.

Something To Sit On

noreply@blogger.com (The Mommy Therapy) — Tue, 26 Mar 2013 03:31:00 +0000

Many moons ago we put together this adorable playroom for our children.

We enclosed an area in our house and lovingly placed all their crap in cute drawers and baskets within it. We felt it was necessary to trap them and all their multi-pieced sources of entertainment in a space with doors.

This changed our lives dramatically.

Unfortunately, since our children are so tricky, they keep growing and changing, making it nearly impossible to adequately accomodate their most current needs.

(I was SURE that was going to end after the first year, but as it turns out I am very clearly wrong.)

It turns out that the kids aren't using all that many "toys" recently, going totally against the idea of giving them a whole room to play with toys.

Aiden and Cole mostly care about running around outside, arguing about the existence of both imaginary and real things with unexplicable passion, Lego building, torture of all kinds, and their iTouch games. Stella cares about riding her scooter, digging and tracking in sand, whining, purse carrying, and "art" of all forms and fashions.

I didn't think this would happen until at least the age of 10, but they simply don't need a whole bunch of plastic toys that they can attempt to destroy anymore. So I purged. I purged a LOT.

I have two giant boxes of books, a giant box and two bags of random toys and stuffed animals, two tubs of the "nice" toys to put in the attic for the potential someday, and an obsence amount of trash.

(Does it seem alarming to anyone else that I literally could walk through my children's rooms and playroom on any given day and fill a grocery bag with trash? Where is all this coming from?)

It felt wonderful.

I left only the building blocks/Lincoln Logs/Legos, musical instruments, arts, and dress up.

What they all really needed was a room to "hang out" in during the down times and watch a movie or show so they would get out of my living room with all their stickiness, lingering, and awful TV choices.

(Not that I EVER let my children watch TV.)

(Total lie. My kids watch so much PBS.)

(Fine, they also watch Disney Junior.)

(FINE, and Cartoon Network. I can't fight all of them!)

Problem solved!

Our kids are now the proud owners of a redish-pink Ikea love-seat (with washable cover) that fits all of them comfortably and keeps them far, far away from me for extended periods of time. Ikea is the most wonderful store on Earth.

We are all delighted!

Now if we could just put a mini-fridge in there and a hot plate, I think they could basically fend for themselves!

We're Back!

noreply@blogger.com (The Mommy Therapy) — Thu, 21 Mar 2013 03:50:00 +0000

I have a confession.

I trimmed my bangs.

I don't think I'm strong enough for the growing out process. It's messy and uncomfortable and awkward. I don't do any of those things well.

Maybe I should buy stock in some sort of headband company?

Maybe I have to have bangs forever now?

Do you think this is how Zooey Deshchanel feels?

The kids and I just returned from a week in balmy Indianapolis. I'm fairly confident that I used any strength I do have to enjoy being cold for seven days. I forgot the type of endurance you have to have to remain sane while living through your fifth month of cold and gray weather. I have been weakened by my Texas living. Forgive me Indiana, I'm confused.

We did have a great time visiting with Grandma and Tractor, hanging with good friends, and just enjoying the luxury of being "home." It never gets old.

It gets very, uncomfortably cold, but never old.

It even snowed one day.

The boys LOVED it.

Stella thought it was AWFUL.

The truth is that cold or not, Indiana has my heart, but coming home to temperatures in the high 80s makes me think my heart may be divided.

Turns out Texas has some high points too, like sunshine.

Bang Updates, Illness, and Kurt Loder

noreply@blogger.com (The Mommy Therapy) — Fri, 08 Mar 2013 03:47:00 +0000

Remember how tired I was from being awesome?

Apparently being awesome is even more dangerous than I first thought. My jaunt in to the "fun" life has left me sick, beat down, and speechless.

You might think I mean speechless as in unable to find the appropriate words for how challenging all my fun was for me to endure, but you would be wrong.

I literally can not talk.

I have been sick with a fierce head cold since Tuesday. I have an over abundance of mucous, sore throat, cough, and body aches. Surely this isn't normal after having a lot of fun? Is this what's happening to everyone else that gets frequent babysitters and leaves their houses after dark?

I am concerned for everyone now.

On top of everything, there's my bangs. I know this is something weighing heavy on all of you without my frequent updates. Well, rest easy because things are going well.

I had my hair magician, Faith, cut and color my hair on Tuesday and she's got the whole thing under control.

Photo taken post DayQuil

I don't really remember what she said she was doing to them, but somehow they are cut differently to grow out more easily. Or be shoved to the side. Or never grow again. I went on day one of the head cold, she really could have said anything to me, I have no idea. I trust her and her tricky skills that make my hair look pretty-ish.

In other news, Stella threw up for the first time yesterday. This might seem like a gross thing to point out, but that's just sort of life right now. It's pretty gross.

I guess I should skip talking about my over-use of the netti pot right now, along with my immense joy at it's ability to flush "stuff" out. Amazing.

When thinking about my illness and Stella's vomit, which is inevitable after reading this post, imagine the worst thing I would have to do during this time. Grocery shop? That's not a big thing. Get new shoes? That's crazy, there's never a bad time for that. Travel?

Oh yes, travel with the three kids by myself, that would be bad. Though that is exactly what is happening.

On Monday morning I will jump on a plane with my three children, by myself, and travel to the spring break mecca...Indianapolis.

Yep, my children and I will join much of today's youth on a journey to wild and crazy Indianapolis for a week of spring break mayhem. You're probably concerned about wet t-shirt contests, booze cruises, and sunburns, but fear not, I hear things have really calmed down recently in Indy.

I bet Kurt Loder doesn't even care what's happening there now.

(Does that make sense to you or are you too young? Too old? Jenny McCarthy? Anyone?)

I am confident that we can keep things calm and G-rated, mostly. It's hard to make any promises where Indianapolis and spring break are concerned though, it can be so unpredictable.

I am positive that I will have children writing adorable things during the entire trip...like this "poem" Cole wrote for the dog.

That's "Bea, I love you in the afternoon," as the last line.

Or this note Aiden presented to me tonight after dinner.

Damn silent 'e' makes spelling so tricky!

I think this last one proves that all my complaining to my kids about how they should starting feeling badly for me and stop asking me to do so much for them, since I don't feel well, is really working.

I feel as though I'm finally doing something right as a mom.

Oh, and I bought a new Noonday bracelet today....which did momentarily make my whole head, and wrist, feel better.

Be on the lookout for crazy spring break photos soon....or tragic tales of airport travels with three children that made me cry, but you laugh. You're so mean.

Apparently Being Awesome Is Exhausting

noreply@blogger.com (The Mommy Therapy) — Thu, 28 Feb 2013 04:20:00 +0000

I can not believe the number of people whom actually thought my last post might be related to having a fourth baby. Do you even read my blog?

Do you even know me?

I'm tapped out.

Clearly spent.

On Monday I cried because I couldn't open a new box of juice boxes.

(Vegetable juice to be clear. Please get out your score sheets and add 10 points to my Super Mom total.)

Today I literally lost my mind and yelled at sweet Stella when she starting screaming at me because I told her I needed to go to the bathroom. Nature called, I had to answer, and I was pissed that my two year old felt I was being unreasonable.

Definitely not sinking to her level or anything.

Not that I wouldn't want to be at the same level as something this cute...

But, I am exhausted, surviving on a mere three or four hours of sleep most nights during the last week. I refuse to neglect that tiny magic pill that I take every day though. It is not the time for me to think about starting over with another baby.

Or I might freak the freak out.

I have had a babysitter the last three out of five nights. This sounds amazing, and every outing was VERY fun, but I think I have been taught a serious lesson. I am no longer cut out for such an overwhelming amount of fun...particularly when my daughter is up coughing most of the night. I simply can not be a Mom and be a fun person. Not happening.

Friday we went out for a fancy dinner for a good friend's birthday. It was wonderful company, wonderful food, wonderful cocktails....and not even a crazy late night.

Saturday was another awesome night out with a VERY fun couple. We were planning to hit the bingo hall after this very popular burger place, but ended up just talking until late and shutting down the burger place. I felt so cool.

Sunday I had a Pampered Chef party and had a blast.

Monday I had the Bachelor and, though I didn't leave my house, I felt fully emotionally spent after the whole thing. I'm sure you understand.

Tuesday I had another VERY fun Pampered Chef party at a dear friend's house with a lot of amazing ladies.

I did break it down to Eminem, Fat Joe, and possibly a little Katy Perry (even though I feel like I'm supposed to not like her if I'm going to be cool?) on the way to get in the mood.

Doesn't this photo scream rapping curse words while mentally preparing for a FUN night of cooking for women I don't know?

I didn't get home until 11:45 though and then Stella and Cole took turns waking me up because they hate me.

What other explanation could there possibly be!?!?!?!?!?

What I've learned from my days of socialization and showering/make up application to be around people is that I am just not cut out for this much concentrated doses of fun. I need to parcel out my activities so I don't over exert myself and cry all day long or go off the deep end and...

WEAR A FREAKIN' HAT PEOPLE!!!

Obviously, I'm going through a rough time. I'm not a hat person at all.

The good news?

My calves are actually sore, almost as if I pushed myself to workout during my exhaustion, which I did not do of course because that sounds awful, all due to my wearing of these...

for multiple evenings in a row.

It's like a work out. A fashion workout. I'm totally out of shape in every sense apparently.

The truth is, I just need some sleep.

The truth is, I should not be blogging right now or tomorrow has a good chance of forcing me to spend $10 at Starbucks on caffeine and baked goods to reward myself for being functional enough to leave the house and crying because I feel guilty that I was mad at Cole for refusing to wear underwear...again. Things get complicated and expensive fast when I'm sleep deprived.

I hereby swear to never attempt to be this awesome during a five day time frame again.* It's just not in me anymore. I'm back to being lame as of today.

Thank goodness.

*Disclaimer: If Justin Timberlake had a time machine, met me, asked me to travel back to spring break 1999, make out and party for five days straight... I would have no choice but to go along willingly. I'm sure you understand.

The Announcement

noreply@blogger.com (The Mommy Therapy) — Thu, 21 Feb 2013 04:15:00 +0000

After careful, thoughtful consideration it is with a heavy heart and clear mind that I would like to formally announce that I have decided to grow out my bangs.

I realize this might come as quite a shock to many of you, but it feels right. After watching Michelle Obama and Taylor Swift carry their perfectly trimmed bangs around the world, I just feel I can no longer engage in the bang world of now.

I can't decide if I'm too cool, or not cool enough, or mostly just fearful of a sweaty Texas summer with lots of delicate hair covering my forehead looking gross for the next six months, but it's time for them to go.

Please have patience with me during this difficult and surely awkward growing out process.

What?

Did you think I was going to announce that I was formally addicted to meth, or drinking before I start to cook dinner now, in order to deal with Cole? He's actually been much more him since I last wrote. He's sleeping in Stella's extra bed most nights now and actually getting sleep, which keeps him sane.

Go figure.

Other news?

These two have been thick as thieves.

I don't really know why thieves are thick. Surely there is a better, sweeter analogy for inseparable siblings. Insert that analogy here.

These two have been thick as thieves when one decides they would like to confess and the other wants to kill them.

That analogy totally works. I'm honestly surprised Aiden isn't pushing Cole in to this giant hole in this photo. They are fighting over everything these days. There was an all out screaming, crying, episode in the car last week about whether or not Cole saw a rainbow colored car while we were driving.

Spoiler: There actually was a rainbow car. Cole was right. Aiden refuses to concede that it is even possible.

This guy.

Is so annoyed I posted this photo on Facebook that I felt it was important to put it on my blog too.

Stella is still bananas.

And took 49 pictures of this on my phone yesterday.

See...the bang thing does seem like big news after that last photo, right?

I Think I Might Be Missing Breaking Bad, But I Thought I Was Writing About Cole

noreply@blogger.com (The Mommy Therapy) — Thu, 24 Jan 2013 04:06:00 +0000

I possess a great amount of terror about 18 year old Cole. What if we spend the next 10-15 years going through phases of difficulty, each one wearing his self esteem down in a different way because I'm handling it so poorly that before I know it he's the Jesse Pinkman of Round Rock, TX and his slimy, but extraordinarily witty, lawyer are tricking Alex and me out of our house so he can move in and make more meth?

No, I don't think I've watched too much Breaking Bad, why do you ask?

Could Jesse build this? I think not.

We're in a rough patch with Cole. We've been through it before, you can read an example of that here, and here we are again. Thankfully not quite as bad as it's been in the past, but it's rough.

Today was light years better than the last five or six days, but I've been a Mom long enough now to know that there is no better way to curse his upswing than to publicly proclaim he's out of it.

It's just like talking about how great a sleeper your baby is, that's a fast track to a night of three hours sleep.  It's some sort of kid voodoo.

Whenever we are in one of these phases with Cole I feel plagued with worry about how to handle him. He refuses to cooperate.   He's grumpy and negative about every aspect of everything.

(And doesn't show an ounce of sarcasm in all his complaining to make it a bit more amusing.)

He doesn't sleep. He doesn't allow me to sleep.

He cries and screams instead of vocalizing nearly any need large or small, and something as small as the socks I hand him to wear can turn in to the greatest tragedy of all time.

It's exhausting. It's emotionally and physically so draining that I find myself going through the same stages of coping each time.

First, I'm shocked. I'm always surprised when these phases appear out of seemingly nowhere. We can go months in between these times then just get struck down by the wrath of Cole.

Then, I'm encouraging and thoughtful about how to remedy any issues. I'm all sticker charts and positive reinforcement. This is the book reading phase. I have a collection of "make your kid better" sorts of books and I always get behind all their good ideas for at least a solid day, maybe even two.

After a while though I become snippy and sink closer to his level, mocking all suggestions I've found in books and feeling sparks of rage at suggestions from anyone.   (This is actually when I'm in my sarcastic prime so I make a good person to go have a cocktail with, but not so much a stellar Mom and person in general. I really walk a slippery slope during this stage.)

Next, I'm straight up pissed off.   I'm determined that I can turn this around and we're going to have a change in behavior. This is when I irrationally threaten things like taking away his room, or the majority of his clothes. Thankfully most of these irrational threats are never verbalized to Cole so I don't have to actually implement some of the worst parenting ideas ever thought of by a loving Mom.

Then the worst of it comes, I find myself teetering on apathetic. There is zero funny in that.

I could think of nothing worse than feeling apathetic about one of my children. It terrifies me.

To be clear, I'm not there. I am not apathetic about Cole, I don't think I ever could be. I pray I never feel that way, but I dabble in it and that's scary enough for me.

I get to the point when I just can not fight him anymore though. I am baffled by his attitude and frustrated that we keep cycling back to times like this. I feel like a failure, because surely I'm jacking this up or things would be different.

I'm emotionally intelligent enough to come up with a whole list of possible reasons we go through these times. I also know that staying true to our rules and expectations of behavior, while fiercely loving him, is the only real path out of each of these times, along with a giant bucket of prayer. He doesn't have an "issue." He isn't diagnosed with a particular behavior challenge, and believe me, the behavior therapist and I went through all sorts of options last year.

He's just Cole. He's strong willed, but sensitive. He's funny and an entertainer, but he's also very shy. He's sweet and loving, but he's also five. He's just five.

He's super cute too.

I bet he couldn't even shake and bake without serious problems.

Fine, maybe I'm thinking a little too much about Breaking Bad.

This will all be better soon. If it weren't for the voodoo I would say it could potentially have passed by his behavior today, but I would NEVER say that because of the respect I have for the voodoo.

He will be back to being himself more often than not, and I'll go back to thinking I'm an awesome, fine acceptable, Mom. Right now though, I just don't want to feel frustrated with him anymore. I don't want to feel as though I have to back off or doom him to a life of drug abuse. I want to love on my kid and have some good days and some bad ones and feel that whole thing is going to be fine, because most likely it will be.

Unless he has a really good, but terminally ill chemistry teacher....then I'll have to take drastic measures to save him.

A List...Just Like Martin Would Have Made

noreply@blogger.com (The Mommy Therapy) — Mon, 21 Jan 2013 20:40:00 +0000

Since we're all so close, let's just pretend the 30 days in a row of writing thing never happened.

Surely this wouldn't be the worst thing we all pretend didn't exist.

In honor of Martin Luther King Junior Day, I decided to just make you a list of the random recent happenings around here....because I am 78% sure that making lists is how MLK managed to get so much done with the whole racial equality thing.

God bless him.

1. Last week we had a very large tree removed from our backyard in order to start the whole pool building process. There was a backhoe and everything.

It entertained my children for hours, which makes me wonder how much it would cost to have a backhoe just rip stuff up in my backyard for the next few years in comparison to installing a pool?

This might be worth exploration.

2. In my quest to take over the world with my Pampered Chef business, I have earned all sorts of free Pampered Chef products. On a whim I ordered this white ceramic skillet...and discovered that I should make more decisions on a whim.

I am in love....with a skillet.

I feel ashamed and proud.

It's making everything so easy and fun to cook right now. I'm also having professional photos taken in the near future of myself with the skillet since this one was such a hit on Facebook and Instagram...mostly for being sort of scary, but I also like to think it's because everyone wants to love this skillet like I do.

3. The return of the sun has brought new hope for my life as a stay at home mom. My kids have started going outside again and it is glorious.

The Sandbox is back in rotation, which is 90% good news. It does get them outside and away from me, but it also brings sand back inside.

Best photo EVER? Probably.

The vacuum is my friend.

The boys also were finally allowed to spend some of their 2012 savings and they both purchased outdoor riding toys which has led to endless hours of them riding away from me.

Love.

4. Meal planing blows lately. Nothing sounds good. I basically just want to cook eggs and quesadillas in that skillet and wing it every night, but that is sort of awful in reality. So I hunkered down on Pinterest and decided to try a week of recipes that look delicious.

Last night I tried the crockpot pesto ranch chicken and every person in my family devoured it.

Do it tonight people.

2 pounds-ish of chicken thighs

6 oz jar of pesto

1 pack of ranch seasoning

some chicken broth

Here's a link to the magic.

5. The cutest thing around here lately is Stella's mastery of our very long last name.

Just to be clear, Alex doesn't usually talk like that.

I don't want confusion like that.

Bags of Too Much Money And Other First World Complaints of My Children Today - PYHO

noreply@blogger.com (The Mommy Therapy) — Wed, 16 Jan 2013 04:07:00 +0000

I don't remember what day it is in in this self-imposed challenge, but here I am.

And I'm sick.

I have pumped my body full of all sorts of drugs which young Jesse Pinkman would have been paying his smurfs a pretty penny for back in the day, and I think it's helping a bit. A mere nine hours later, I feel slightly better, but exhausted.

There is nothing worse than being sick as a Mom. Despite the fact that both Aiden and Cole were extraordinarily loving and kind to me this morning, by this afternoon they were over me being down and back to their selfish ways, angered by my slow pace in getting their snack and making their pancakes.

A slave Mom's work is never done.

Despite my patient and carefully worded speech about showing grace and respect to me, my kids were still having difficulty with the concept that I didn't feel like running around for them tonight. My illness didn't even register with Stella and she proceeded to shout commands at me until she was placed in her room for a time out.

If only it didn't take so damn long to catch her and put her there in my state of fatigue.

I expect to have a somewhat daily battle with my children's selfishness and lack of perspective. I've made a certain peace with that at this point. They're kids, I'm fairly certain this is simply the way many of them are at this stage in the game. It will probably take the full 18 years to mold them in to respectable humans, and even then it's probably some sort of slow sink-in of all the things we've spent years working with them on all this time.

I even remember complaining to my Dad about having to manually roll down the windows in the car he paid for and allowed me to drive all through high school.

(I like to think I had other fantastically redeeming qualities that showed him I had a chance of eventually turning in to a good person, otherwise he should have definitely taken action against me, thought I'm grateful he did not.)

When I am under the weather, I can't handle even a moment of their spoiled complaints.

Here's my list of top annoyances of my children's First World problems from today.*

1. Stella keeps dumping her new purse full of money in random locations around the house.

This is possibly the worst photo quality ever posted in a blog, but you get the idea, and remember, I'm sick.

2. When asked to help put away his basket of clean, folded, mostly new clothes, Cole threw himself on the floor and fake cried about the injustice of his life, how he's over worked and I make him do everything.

This was the point in the afternoon that I feared for Cole's life.

3. Aiden, having recently lost privileges to use his new iTouch due to disrespectful behavior, was whining about his lack of quick access to whichever song he would like to listen to at any moment. He is currently forced to pick out one of the hundred or so CDs we have in the house.

Then he can play it on his own CD player.

In his very own bedroom.

I understand if you need to shed a tear for him.

4. After a meal of pancakes, my children's favorite dinner, Cole actually complained that I had "forced" him to eat too much food.

(To be clear, I never requested he eat any amount of food.)

When I mentioned that some children don't even have access to an unlimited amount of food, he replied, "I wish we didn't have food."

Right, because that would be awesome child.

5. After finishing his homework I caught Aiden staring out in to the backyard looking perplexed. When I asked him what was wrong he said he just didn't understand why we had to get rid of a tree he likes to climb, just so we can put the new pool where Daddy and I want it.

The phrase, "it's not fair," was actually used.

I simply walked away. I can't even explain to him why that is so messed up.

6. Stella cried for 15 minutes because her favorite Doc McStuffin's (or as she calls it, "Tuffins") nightgown was in the washing machine tonight when she was ready to put on pajamas. Despite the fact that she has a drawer of pajamas, literally so full it is often difficult to open and close, she didn't understand why her nightgown had to be all wet.

Stella and the "Tuffins" gown during less tumultuous times.

In fairness to her on this one, she does look crazy adorable in the nightgown, it is her only gown, and she is 2....but geeez.

It was just one of those days. I know they will eventually work it out and in all likelihood will turn out just fine, but it's days like this when my patience is weak that I fear I will be forced to strip them of any and all advantages, such as giving them food and clothing.

Are there still cars with manual windows?

I definitely need to get them cars with manual windows, it clearly worked for me.

*Mom, I promise I usually would just take things away, talk to them about their lack of respect or sense of gratitude but that's rough when your head is pounding and you fear you might vomit on your newly cleaned floors....knowing you would be the only one to clean it up. I require zero advice or friendly input on how to remedy these problems, I'm on it once I can stand upright for more than 10 minutes.

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Linking up with Shell's Pour Your Heart Out. Check it out here.

Take It From Me, You Should Check In On Your Friends' Uteruses

noreply@blogger.com (The Mommy Therapy) — Tue, 15 Jan 2013 04:14:00 +0000

On Saturday I found out that one of my best friends was pregnant....and due in a few weeks.

I can't describe how odd it was to hear news like that about one of the people that I perceive to be one of the true loves of my life....seriously in my top ten of favorite people walking the planet.

Obviously I'm doing a piss poor job of keeping in touch if one of my best friends could be 38 weeks pregnant without me knowing.

Fail.

Epic fail.

There's a lot involved, but basically, for me, it just boils down to the fact that I was given a giant slap in the face about needing to step up my managing of friends, husband, kids, life. I don't want to be someone that lets a relationship slide because I am busy. I am lost without my good girlfriends.

Totally lost.

Since we haven't talked in nine months I thought I should put together a quick list of the important things I should be sharing with her to get back to really knowing one another.

1. We spent a long summer going to day camps and the pool. Overall it was far better than I could have imagined....since I almost always imagine it's going to be hell. The only truly awful part was the Texas heat, which is a serious form of punishment for moving here.

2. Aiden started first grade and loves it. He's inquisitive, far too concerned with the concept of fair and who did what to whom, he's excelling at math, he's slower but catching up in reading, he's taller and lankier than I feel like he should be, he's losing an alarming amount of teeth, and he still begs me to sleep next to him...which is adorable and I totally would if he didn't grind his teeth so damn loudly.

3. Cole is in a kindergarten ready program for kids eligible but not ready to go to full-time kindergarten...which really begs the question, why did they name the program kindergarten ready if no one is ready? I'm so confused. Taking him off dairy and trying to be more patient with him when he has a challenge verbalizing what is bothering him has made a HUGE difference in being able to handle him well. He's still my most loving and most creative...and my most challenging, most days.

4. Stella pretty much is the cutest thing on the planet, except when she has decided she would like things to be one way and that isn't the way it's working. She pronouces smoothie, "pootie" and recently discovered that everyone has nipples. She jumps on her brothers in the middle of a wrestling match, she is obsessed with pink and the fact that she's a girl, and she makes me so grateful to have the chance to raise a girl. It's different, it's the same, it's awesome.

5. Since the weather turned cold, I no longer feel the need to shave my legs every day, which has led to some amazing discoveries. Periodically I find just one really long hair behind my knee or on my ankle, and I wonder how it could have missed the razor blade EVERY time for weeks to reach that length. That's been on my mind for a while so this seemed like a good time to share it.

6. I started a Pampered Chef business and it's GREAT. I didn't have any expectations, but it's been wonderful. It gets me out, it gives me "business" to take care of in the perfect amount of time, on my terms. Most importantly, it gives me a lot more money than I expected, which is fun. I'm still grateful to not have to feed my family with it, but for now I'm happy to have it as part of my life. Do you need a garlic press?

7. Alex and I have decided to put a pool in our backyard. This gives me much concern, excitement, fear, joy, and terror...mostly that I will have to so frequently be in a swimsuit and I have not been sticking to my workout plan.

8. I am currently reading The Night Circus and I don't get it. I think I like it, but I don't know what the hell is happening. Is this just about magic? Is this all illusion? Am I accidentally reading another teen vampire novel and the story is focusing on the vampires with a gift to change things around them?

Sidenote: I did read The Fault Of Our Stars and LOVED it. I think it might be a teen novel also but I thought it was fantastic. Shout out to my friend Jenny Campbell (whom doesn't call herself that anymore, but will forever be Jenny Campbell to me so I don't accept her Jen Maximer status...if that's even right,) for recommending such a good book. I am now looking to her for future reads once I figure out this circus thing.

9. I cut full bangs. It's been fairly life altering. I truly am resurrecting my 9th grade Brenda Walsh roots and finding it quite wonderful. I think they make me a better person. Or not, but the change is fun.

10. I am still bananas for Alex and I think we are as blissfully married as two trapped and enslaved individuals can be at the mercy of small people who force us to be involved in every aspect of their lives, and whom feel comfortable intruding on every aspect of ours, including any and all trips to the bathroom and shower. We find ourselves quoting Cliff Huxtible lines far more often than we would like, and it's substantially less funny, but we're grateful for the wisdom. We're working on an escape plan, but currently just over the moon happy that we enjoy one another and have found great fulfillment from such Netflix options as Sons of Anarchy, Downton Abbey, and Breaking Bad.

I can't think of any other major insights to my current life.

Hug your friends. Call your friends. Ask them if they are with child, because it's going to really suck if you find out you were so out of touch that they had time to grow a person since you last spoke.

That isn't even Cliff Huxtible wisdom, that's all me.

I Know, I Know

noreply@blogger.com (The Mommy Therapy) — Mon, 14 Jan 2013 04:46:00 +0000

Go ahead and just post FAILURE in the comments section. I completely understand.

Perhaps this thirty days could just be thirty days of explanations as to why I can't get around to writing each day?

Day three hardly counted as a post, but at least I did something.

Day four I had a massive headache which prevented me from doing much of anything besides lying on the floor willing my head to explode.

Day five? Well, day five was just life, followed by some news that made me a little sad, a little excited, a little angry, a little disappointed, and a little guilty. So I mostly cried to Alex, felt like I had been punched in the stomach, and planned flights to visit a friend. Clearly there was simply no time to blog with all that going on during my usual blogging hours.

Now here we are on day six. I have nothing.

So we'll go to the blogger's never fail option:

Cute child photograph...

My Stella Monkey

And we'll just hope that day seven has even better material.

It's Midnight...

noreply@blogger.com (The Mommy Therapy) — Fri, 11 Jan 2013 06:08:00 +0000

And I'm up posting this photo because I just got home from a Pampered Chef party. This is what I am doing tonight instead of blogging on day 3 of my thirty day challenge.

It counts, right?

Pampered Chef party close out and wine to get it in before midnight.

Happy Friday everyone!

Zumba Anyone?

noreply@blogger.com (The Mommy Therapy) — Thu, 10 Jan 2013 05:20:00 +0000

I've always fancied myself a good dancer. My wedding reception experience combined with my four years of fraternity party attendance (mixed with fun spring breaks,) and my ability to conquer Dance Party Three on the XBox regardless of competition has always led me to believe I am a good dancer.

This is false. Very false.

Today I attended my first Zumba class. I truly thought I would rock the Zumba class forum.

A combination of dance and a group led exercise class? Surely this would be perfect for me.

Not so.

There were only five of us in the class. All of us were pushing forty, two closer to sixty. We were a mixed bag of weights and body shapes. I would venture to saw we all were pretty, "normal" looking.

None of us were professional dancers, but I did find out all of my classmates regularly attended Zumba classes and loved it. I knew this because the instructor was THIRTY minutes late, we had plenty of time to chat.

When the instructor finally showed up, she was a tiny ball of Latina adorable. She beamed a smile at us, and told us she was Zumba Deb.

Of course she was.

She plugged in her iPod, threw on her headset, and started enthusiastically clapping over her head to Justin Bieber. I can totally clap overhead to young pop stars so I joined in, on my way to being a Zumba master, just like I had thought.

The first "routine" consisted primarily of a simple back and forth step with a clap. Every so often Deb would rub her hand around her head and down her body. It was very sexy when Deb did it, but it sort of looked like the rest of us had a stray hair bothering us that we couldn't locate.

It was awkward, but I was optimistic that rubbing your hand wasn't really dancing so I could still be awesome at this whole thing.

Moments after the second song started though, Deb took things to a whole other level. Deb consistently looked like she belonged in a sexy salsa club and the rest of us looked like we should just sit down and eat some salsa. I have never felt so uncoordinated in my life.

People, I am NOT a good dancer.

Unfortunately, unlike the dance floor at a wedding, there were mirrors all around me, I could see every awkward move I made.

I looked tall and floppy.

(I am not tall, unless I am standing next to a 5 foot dancer and a woman in the early stages of severe spine curvature.)

My only reprieve was when the older lady in front of me moved directly in my line of vision, I assume my flailing reflection was distracting her from focusing on the moves.

I was so confused.

First, I thought I could hang with some dance moves.

Second, no one informed me of the "sexy" component of Zumba so I felt the need to giggle every time I was directed to shake my chest or whenever Deb shouted, "sex it up ladies!" through her headset. There was so very little sexy about what most of us were doing.

Finally, Deb clearly has not given birth because the amount of jumping up and down and bouncing would have never been in the program if someone with three small children had choreographed it.

I really felt that Deb spent most of the class showing off her bladder control.

The real fun began when a little song called "Booty Work" started.

Honestly, I felt like someone should have hit the lights and offered me a shot. It was the most awkward and hilarious five minutes of my life. I kept looking for the guy handing out glow sticks.

Deb kept yelling at us to "make it sexy," and "keep it low," but I couldn't stop staring at the mirror and wondering how she wasn't dying laughing at all of us in the class.

Here's a link to the song if you haven't heard this classy tune.

I kept imagining the real video for the song...10-20 Deb varieties of barely dressed women shaking their butts. How awesome would it be to insert clips of my Zumba class with the professional booty shakers.

Is this what's been happening in Zumba classrooms around the world all these years?

Zumba is awesome.

Next Wednesday, 9:00, Deb, me and Zumba.

New Year's Resolution FAIL

noreply@blogger.com (The Mommy Therapy) — Tue, 08 Jan 2013 19:36:00 +0000

It's been a while.

Do I start this blog like that too often these days?

I used to feel a gigantic sense of failure if I didn't post at least four times a week here. I would force myself to stay up late to write. I would put on movies to occupy my kids so I could ignore them long enough to write something amusing, or heartfelt, or therapeutic...then I would experience guilt about my exhaustion and my lack of motherly connection.

Intense and useless guilt.

Being a Mom is fun.

I don't feel the pressure anymore, thank God.

I do miss writing though.

So I came up with a 2013 plan, you know New Year's resolution and all that. The plan was for me to write something, anything at all for the entire month of January. Even if it was just a picture of part of my day, or a video clip I found interesting.

It was going to be a good January.

So what happened?

This is the part where I would like to write about a deeply meaningful task I have been devoted to over the last week which has prevented me from writing. Some manner of volunteer work involving the homeless, or the hungry, or people that don't understand how to wear leggings.

I would like to explain how I have spent countless hours bonding with my children and husband and creating powerful memories.

I can't lie though.

Here's the truth...on New Year's Day I discovered season six of Army Wives had been released on Netflix. I've sepnt the last eight days watching 23 episodes of Army Wives during every child-free moment.

I'm so ashamed.

(I may have also been watching one episode of New Girl on repeat that I find so hilarious that I keep trying to find ways to work the funny lines in to normal conversations, and sounding like a total idiot. I'm not proud.)

(Seriously though, Army Wives isn't that great, but if you have thirty minutes to watch the Katie episode of New Girl, you will not regret it.)

I'm turning over a new leaf today though folks. My challenge is on!

Every day for the next thirty days. Something WILL be posted.

I think.

I mean, there's a lot of enticing TV out there. Pray for my strength to fight it.

While I Work On My Future, I Hope Stella Isn't Working On Hers

noreply@blogger.com (The Mommy Therapy) — Wed, 05 Dec 2012 04:22:00 +0000

No parent wants their daughter dancing on tables, but for now...

So amusing.

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I'm having a Holiday Extravaganza for my new Pampered Chef business!

If you live in the Austin area and feel like celebrating with me, learning a bunch of new recipes, and would like to have the chance to win a LOT of free Pampered Chef, send me an email themommytherapy@gmail.com and I'll send you the info!

If you sadly don't live near me, but you are still interested in free Pampered Chef products go ahead and send me an email and we'll work it out!

If you don't care about free Pampered Chef, go to my website and just buy a bunch of stuff. www.pamperedchef.biz/leslied Because that seems like a good idea!

Have a good week everyone!!!

Who Thinks Brenda Walsh Has A Gratitude Journal?

noreply@blogger.com (The Mommy Therapy) — Tue, 04 Dec 2012 04:45:00 +0000

Remember yesterday when I was all "ah-ha" moment-ing it with Oprah's gratitude exercise?

That was nice.

You know what wasn't nice?

2:00 AM

You know when your two year old starts crying and moaning for no apparent reason? Then you try to console and check for fever or sharp objects impaling them, and when you can't figure it out after an hour or so and you sort of feel like starting to cry too, but you can't because more than sad you feel really annoyed.

And that lasts until around 4:00 AM.

Then after you have successfully placed your newly appointed least favorite child back in her crib, and you've peed because it's difficult to make it through the night without doing that at least once since birthing three children, and you settle in to bed and let your mind race a bit about how you're going to make Brussels sprouts and kale look good and sell a lot of Pampered Chef. Then you wonder if you should buy Tom's new wedge booties, and then suddenly it's 4:30 AM and you think you might scream.

(By the way, you should totally buy Tom's new wedge booties, you would know that if you weren't so tired.)

You know?

It seems annoying, but then 5:00 AM comes around and your five year old wakes you up from your thirty minutes of sleep to let you know he's going to go poop, because this is the type of information you must be involved in when you hold the title "Mom."

You may, or may not, start to poke your slightly pointy toenail in to your husband's leg to see if he wakes up from the sharp pain, because even though there is no reason for him to be up other than to share your pain, that sort of seems like a good reason at that point.

(You may be more mature than I am, if so skip the previous paragraph, I never claimed to be mature.)

Then it's 5:15 and there are strange noises coming from your bathroom so you have to get of bed to investigate. Then you feel filled with rage because the strange noises are actually just your five year old making funny sounds because he's "bored" pooping and wants you to talk to him about ninjas, which makes your head explode because you hate all things ninja with every fiber of your being at this point.

Then you decide that perhaps God just doesn't want you to sleep because he obviously forgot that you turn mentally unstable without at least six hours of sleep, or simply wants you to be off your rocker all day in an exercise of personal and spiritual growth that is just going to leave you feeling pissed.

So you get up and think that this would be a good time for one of Oprah's gratitude journal entries to make you feel better by remembering how blessed you are in life.

Are you following me?

But, then you remember you didn't get enough sleep for that crap.

So that's sort of how things started for me this morning.

The good news is that the day ended with this birthday celebration for my friend Jessica.

(Suzanne, I know you don't like that you aren't facing the camera on this one, but I had to go with the three out of four of us looking at the camera and you have that hip new haircut to carry you through any photo.)

Oh, also good news is that none of us are Shannon Doherty, aka "Brenda Walsh," whom I just saw starring in an ad for schoolplease.com where she had to act out all the trials of attending an actual school. That was depressing.

Dylan would be so embarrassed.

I hope she has a gratitude journal.

Oprah Told Me To Do This

noreply@blogger.com (The Mommy Therapy) — Mon, 03 Dec 2012 03:42:00 +0000

I turned 36 today.

Unlike last year, there is no big party, there is no pressure for major celebration. I'm just sitting by my fresh Christmas tree, listening to music, and reading the insane number of Facebook birthday posts I've received.

(If you aren't on Facebook, I truly believe you should be for your birthday alone. I can not describe how awesome it is to have people from all areas of your life, family, friends, co-workers, neighbors, all wish you well.)

I have put Stella down for a nap and informed the boys that if they want any chance at celebrating me tonight (their only concern is cake,) they have to stay in their rooms and be quiet for at least an hour.

An hour of peace is a gift I can use, and since I've accepted that they have zero desire of their own to celebrate me, I'm using birthday cake to get them to do everything today.

Alex took my shopping list and took off for the grocery store. We might not ever see him again, but this is a wonderful way for him to go out if he isn't able to navigate the horrors of Sunday afternoon grocery shopping and make it home alive.

I assume there is a good chance he will return home with all sorts of junk food he wasn't aware even existed anymore, but as long as he also gets what is on my list, I'm fine with that. Not having to go grocery shopping is seriously a gift, well done Alex.

Earlier in the week I had put together a very mature scheme to make him feel badly for not planning anything for my birthday. I booked a sitter in secret and planned to keep my lips sealed about doing anything for my birthday, despite my very real wish to go out.

This is the part where you shake your head at me and say, "Leslie, don't play those silly games. You'll be the loser and no one will be happy. You're better than that. I love your bangs."

Or something like that.

Then this is when I say, "But I want Alex to do something, plan something, and I don't want to spell it out for him because I'm irrational and believe it's possible for him to read my mind."

Probably exactly that.

Fear not though, my friend Renee took matters in to her own hands and texted Alex, warning him of my evil plan and thereby ruining all chance of all of us being miserable all weekend.

She's so mean sometimes.

I guess I'm sort of grateful though.

Fine, Renee is wonderful and she's 100% right, I was being ridiculous.

So we went out for a nice dinner last night. We were relaxed and had a good time. We came home early, despite Alex's offer to stay out, because that sounded better. Apparently it's more fun to just relax and enjoy than turn in to a martyr....I know, I was confused at first too.

I consciously chose to enjoy my birthday, even if I'm wiping up poop and cleaning dishes.

The truth?

I'm overwhelmed by how good I have it. You know how Oprah always says to start a gratitude journal to track what you are grateful for every day? I'm sitting here doing that in my mind.

(What? You don't do everything Oprah told you to do ten years ago?)

Well, I assume this is why. I am taking a minute to think that even though 36 is starting to sound a smidgen older than I would like, I am over the freakin' moon about my awesome life, and being a martyr about anything right now seems like more pain than I need.

Despite their ability to drive me completely bananas, seriously wanting to stab myself in the arm just to focus on another type of pain than the pain they emotionally inflict on me, I have pretty awesome kids.

Stella screamed a lot of today, mostly requesting Alex and refusing me. This is usually just fine with me, but today Cole was kind enough to come up to me, huge me and say, "Mommy, I'm sorry. It's your birthday and Stella hates you."

I love that Cole thinks of things like this. He is hilarious. Hilarious.

I'm also grateful for Alex. I have a marvelous partner, assuming he hasn't been killed at the grocery store, in Alex.

He even loves me in goggles, which I feel says a lot because I look ridiculous. I'm so glad I didn't go in to a career in something that requires me to wear protective eye wear. Or a jump suit. Or spandex.

Holy hell, I am really fortunate.

I have insanely wonderful girl friends. These women sustain me, support me, call me out when I'm being crazy, and love me regardless. I would be LOST without their presence in my life. You know who you are, but Alissa, Anne, Sara, Julie, Kathryn, Amity, Jessica, Renee, Jenn, Nicole, Jennifer, Amy, Suzy, Kerri, Madge, Michele, Sally, Sabra, Jen, Suzanne....geez I feel like the list could go on and on. I just love you all. So grateful for good, solid women in my life who bring me joy.

Why don't I have photos of my friends? That seems wrong. Who wants to do a friends photo shoot with me? That sound cheesy, but it would be fun, surely it would be fun.

I also have awesome blog readers turned friends. Example A below:

So fun!

Oh, and I have my dog. But I'm not super keen on my dog lately because she pees when she gets excited and has taken to humping my leg, and only my leg, and that makes me uncomfortable. Does she like me more than other people? What is she thinking while humping? Surely she's confused?

I don't think I can figure it all out tonight.

At 36 though, life is good. In a few short weeks my parents then my brother and sister in law will be here and we'll be celebrating Christmas and it's all just a little too much. It's all just so fantastic.

Tomorrow I'll go back to sarcastic, but tonight I'm happy.

Happy birthday to me!

A Bra Changes Everything

noreply@blogger.com (The Mommy Therapy) — Thu, 22 Nov 2012 05:36:00 +0000

I try to parent with natural consequences to my children's actions.

Choose to not take your jacket? You'll be cold later and hopefully think twice the next time.

Leave your toys on the floor? The dog will chew them, or they will disappear to toy jail.

Delay starting your power errands with all three kids and choose to get the deep clean at the car wash even though you arrive late? You will be tortured both mentally and physically at said car wash.

Fine, that last one is my punishment. It was painful people.

Since I wasn't thinking clearly Monday morning, and worked yesterday, I waiting until today to run three crucial errands before the holiday. All three kids are out of school today so I knew it would be rough, but I had a plan and was feeling irresponsibly optimistic.

No Mom heading out with three kids under seven and a plan should EVER feel optimistic. EVER. She should feel focused and motivated and cautious, but not optimistic. Optimistic leads to epic fails.

Mistake number one was not getting dressed the minute I woke up, and immediately getting food together for my kids. Whenever I feel inclined to leisurely linger over my morning smoothie and delay putting on a bra, nothing happens for hours.

Despite my extraordinarily small chest size, a bra is key in getting me going in the morning. I think my brain somehow assumes if I'm not wearing a bra, there is no reason to kick logical thinking in to high gear. This is dangerous.

Delaying breakfast for my kids is essentially telling them to go get interested in something else, like cutting up 20 pieces of perfectly good printer paper to make fake money and open a store to sell one another things they all profess to hate, until someone else is willing to pay $30 in tree-killing money for it. There is no pulling them away from their cut-throat sales this time of year.

Since we were already working at a slow pace, it seems logical that I worked myself right in to mistake number two. Facebook, ruler of most of my braless time wasting.

Damn Facebook and it's ability to capture me in a web of humourous e-cards, heartfelt links (like this one from my sorority grand-daughter who is going through an amazing time, read it here and start at the beginning of the blog,) and general shenanigans from my closest 500 friends.

After I got dressed, I started to feel a bit of panic about getting out the door since it was a little after 10. I sort of have a rule that I have to be out the door before 10 in order for sanity to have a chance while running errands. Unfortunately, I then allowed myself to make mistake number three...calling my Mom.

My Mom tends to be full of both helpful and obvious advice, so she did get me off the phone faster than usual. We finally rolled in to the car wash around 10:50, late, but nothing tragic.

I thought.

I wanted a thorough wash and vacuum, as well as a really good wipe down inside. I don't remember the last time my car was really wiped out, but I did find two pieces of chewed gum and something rotting in one of the back cup holders, so it had been at least a few weeks.

Fine, I'm 99% sure it's been a year.

A year people.

Shameful.

As I chatted to Mr. Carwash Man through my window he suggested I get a deep clean, which I thought sounded good for ridding my van of any science experients growing in the crevices. I'm not sure that I properly calculated the hour and a half wait time for the service in to my day.

Mistake number four...which rolls in to mistakes 4-200.

We started out OK. My children aren't savages, they are generally pretty well behaved in public, especially before noon. We sat outside and watched cars go by, Stella wowed the older crowd with her charm, and Aiden and Cole created some sort of count the car game that seemed really educational and creative.

I found myself thinking I can totally do this for an hour and a half and then go to the grocery store and Orgins.

See how happy and adorable they look during the first few car wash moments?

(Insert mocking laughter.)

After about 30 mintues Aiden and Cole lost interest in counting cars and were encouraging Stella to dig through my purse for quarters, which apparently are readily available. I was planning to stop them but it seemed harmless and I was caught in a very serious discussion with an older gentleman about adoption through the foster care system.

Somehow he had misunderstood me and thought that I was in the process of adopting. He was giving me lots of advice about kids sneaking food and hoarding toysa and backpack checking. After a few minutes of attempting to interrupt and correct him, I gave up and starting talking about my fictitious foster child, whom I found myself explaining was with my husband.

I clearly have issues with these types of encounters with strangers.

The next time I turned around I saw Cole dropping a can of Orange Fanta, which fizzes, partially explodes, and rolls accross the crowd of people waiting for their cars, leaving a trail of high fructose corn syrup for everyone.  Next to Cole is Aiden, giggling with manic delight at his firm grasp on another can of the usually forbidden drink.

I thanked the man for all his help with my fake foster child situation and hustled off to confiscate sodas and reevaluate how much money in quarters Stella had found.  The foster care man informed me that I would, "really have my hands full with our new addition."

I simply smiled, there's just no going back from that kind of a miscommunication.

(I am an awful person.)

This is when Alex calls and says he can meet us for lunch next door to the car wash. Thank God for the new Taco Market.   I had already been trying to figure out how I was going to ever make it to the bathroom without dragging all three with me, so I was very relieved to hear he could join us.

Lunch was uneventful, but returning to the car wash to find my van was no where near done was a profound and sad revelation. All three kids were done, ready to go home and completely unsympathetic about my car not being finished.

They each colored in their Taco Market coloring books and then realized that they would much rather torture one another. As I broke up a fight between Cole and Aiden I realized Stella had decided the grey stone bench looked far too drab, choosing a vibrant yellow crayon to liven things up on the seat.

We had been there too long, far too long to be sane anymore.

Which brings me to mistake number five, suggesting we all go inside to the "gift shop" and play eye spy.

It worked for a few minutes and then Stella realized there were all sorts of things within her reach, like a glass candy cane wine stopper. I took it away from her twice and then as I was apoligizing to a woman for Aiden and Cole's life size chess game which caused Cole to run in to her, Stella grabbed the wine stopped and simply dropped it on the cement floor.

My fake child would have never done that.

$13.99 of shattered candy cane.

I redirected Stella to a basket of plastic trash bags for people to put in their cars, which she proceeded to carry around and hand out to all the other waiting customers. With Aiden and Cole captivated by my phone and Stella working for the car wash, I decided to go check on my van....now at the two hour mark since we arrived.

I was promised it would only be thirty more minutes and I went back to break up the latest Aiden and Cole fight and rescue an older gentleman from Stella's insistence that he take a free bag. She was overdue for a nap and not taking no for an answer from anyone.

One man kindly asked me if I had momentarily blacked out when I decided to bring them all with me to the car wash. I found the comment to be equally insulting and funny, probably because I felt like he was judging me, but I thought it sounded like a good excuse for my clearly very poor decisions of the day. I suprisingly refrained from explaining to him that I didn't put a bra on right away and it caused the entire demise of my day. He didn't seem as kind and willing to help as foster kid man, who would have probably sympathized with me and made me feel better.

I missed him.

By 1:40 I was about to just take my vehicle home. I figured surely it would be in a much better state than it had been, regardless of completion. Mercifully, that was when I was told it was ready.

Mr. Carwash Man, attempting to do me a favor, pointed to a spot in the parking lot where he said he could park my van so we could pile in and go.

Apparently he parked it right next to a crazy curb island though...which I ran over, scratching the bottom of my front fender again, while several carwash men waved and shouted at me.

It would have been more helpful if they had told me to stop instead of making me think they were the friendliest bunch of car wash hands I'd ever seen, waving enthusiastically and mouthing words I didn't understand.

I drove off as fast as I could and headed straight for home. There was no grocery store, no Origins to be had today. I had little chance of surviving another outing with the three of them today, much less two.

Surely we've all learned a lesson here, right? That's how the natural consequences work, which is why my parenting system is working out so fantastically, unless we're at a car wash.

Bascially, bras are just as important to your brain as they are your breasts, and the car wash men aren't that friendly, so pay attention.

Have a wonderful, safe Thanksgiving!

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And just so you know....

Pampered Chef BLACK FRIDAY SALE!!

The holidays are fast approaching! Why fight all the crowds when you can shop from your home, sipping coffee, while in your pajamas?

Beat the clock on my 1st annual Black Friday Sale and you might even win the host benefits!
Friday, November 23^rd ^h
Between 6:00 AM and 10:00 AM
You can purchase any of our terrific products

(as many as you want) from 10% to 30% off!

Here's how (It's SOOO easy!)

There are three ways to order:

Call me at (512) 653-0884 and leave a message.
Email me at lesliek_76@yahoo.com
Go to my website: Click on Order Products; Put Black Friday in as the host

Visit my website at www.pamperedchef.biz/leslied

to view our beautiful online catalog!!

For the sale discounts to apply you MUST email me, call me or online order between the specified hours. I will call to confirm and finalize your order total before the orders are placed. The discounts will not show when you place your order, I will call you back to confirm your total. Individual orders placed through my website MUST be entered be ordered as part of the BLACK FRIDAY show…be sure to put the words BLACK FRIDAY in as the host.

6:00 AM - 7:00 AM--Receive 20%

off anything from our catalog7:01 AM - 8:00 AM --Receive 15% off
8:01 AM – 10:00AM --Receive 10% offPAST HOSTS who had a show within the last year (12/1/11 – 11/30/12) will receive their 10% host discount in addition to this percentage!!

NOTES:

Everyone calling in or emailing me during this time will receive an entry for the host benefits (FREE STUFF) from this show. It's that simple.
Just place your order on my voice mail or in an email and receive a fabulous discount!
Orders will be shipped to my home in Round Rock within approximately 2 weeks, just in time for the holidays. I will notify you when the orders have arrived and work with you to distribute
Or if you would like to pay a slightly higher shipping charge, you can have the order shipped anywhere in the US!

Please be sure to leave ALL the following information (either on my voice mail or in an email) when you place your order!!

Your name

Your phone number

Your address (if you want me to ship it directly to you or a gift recipient)

Time of your call/email (Note for emails -date/time stamp on email will indicate what discounts apply)

Which payment options you want to use: your credit card or by check (please do not leave your credit card information on my voice mail OR in any email. To protect your privacy, I will get that info from you when I call to confirm your order.)

The item numbers, item names and quantity

That's it! I WILL verify ALL information with you before sending in the order! You can be assured of no hidden "surprises." All payments must be received by 12-1-12.

EXTRA BONUS ALERT!

If you book a January or February cooking or catalog show at the same time, I will give you $15 of Additional FREE products at your show! January is the BEST month to host a cooking or catalog show becauseJanuary hosts will earn EXTRA Free Products. My open dates are going quickly. Just mention that you want a January show and I'll call you back for a date. Plus, if you book a January show during this special sale you will receive an extra entry in to the host benefit drawing!

Instagram Can Tell You

noreply@blogger.com (The Mommy Therapy) — Mon, 19 Nov 2012 04:33:00 +0000

If you follow me on Instagram, you know there's been a lot going on around here.

First, I decided Stella didn't look French enough.

So cut her hair in to an adorable bob, with bangs. Yes, bangs like mine.

(I'm going to stand firm that she insisted she have bangs like Mommy, because it feels less narcissistic than admitting it was totally my idea.)

Let me clarify, I did not cut her hair myself. Wouldn't it be fantastic though if I had a chair like this in my house?

Or if I could cut hair?

Other than the fact that she should probably close her legs in this particular photo, isn't this haircut the cutest thing in the whole world? I couldn't handle her hair in her eyes all the time, catching all manner of snot and food from everywhere.

She's taking her smart new look to a whole new level by being a vet.

We've decided to stop saving for college tuition and just concentrate on her looks for a while.

(I'm just kidding Mom, she's not an actual vet based on her cuteness...yet.)

In addition to making Stella cuter, Alex and I felt it was important to finally enclose our master bathroom toilet. I think Alex is more happy about this than the birth of any of our children. He won't stop talking about how life altering it is.

I have yet to see how it's greatly impacted me, other than the fact that Stella and Cole now have an additional door to play with, mostly while I'm using the restroom.

Oh, and now the bathroom looks like this.

I fear this is how our bathroom will look for years now, complete with the smell of sawdust and laziness. Classy.

I spent a lot of time at home this weekend while Stella napped, which led me to this photo.

It was only three years ago, but it feels like another life. This was me and two of my best friends, Sara and Kathryn pretending to be the band at my Alissa's wedding.

That was such a fun, amazing night. I only had two children and I wasn't totally exhausted by the idea of putting on a little dress and being fun. Am I even fun anymore?

Alex and I had a babysitter last night and we went to Pei Wei and a movie.

(Argo is awesome by the way. Mom, you would even like it. They do drop the f-bomb a lot though, so if you see it, you are not aren't allowed to complain to me about this. I had absolutely nothing to do with the production of this movie, to the best of my knowledge.)

Though both the movie and restaurant were delightful, I didn't even shower before we left. Maybe the bathroom will be left unfinished forever at my currently level of extra energy I'm exerting to get things done.

Remember how I got Stella's haircut though? That took some energy.

We were also too lazy to go to the elementary school movie night, so we stayed in and bribed our children with a fire and a movie at home. I was ready for complaints, but instead we got cuddling.

See how it pays to be lazy sometimes?

I think we've all learned a lot here.

Have a good week everyone!

The Competition For Favorite Kid Was Won By a Baking Dish, Of Course

noreply@blogger.com (The Mommy Therapy) — Wed, 14 Nov 2012 05:07:00 +0000

There has been a strip mall under construction near our house for months now. We live in a nice neighborhood, but unfortunately we are in close proximity to a WalMart, a Whataburger, and a variety of pawn shops, so I was excited at the fact that this strip mall looked nicer than most.

I had been day dreaming of all sorts of upscale food options and adorable shopping for this new location. Something classy like a stationary store that personalizes or a fancy soap place, changing my life forever.

(The soap lady and I would be best friends. Forever.)

Nothing says classy like paper and soap which I would most likely never purchase.

(My best friend is going to just give me soap.)

Yesterday morning though, I spotted a sign in the window of the strip mall.

Great Clips

Freakin' Great Clips.

That's not changing my life at all. There's zero chance that the owner of the Great Clip franchise and I are going to go grab drinks or braid each other's hair, even though that might be her job.

Then today, a taco "joint" put a sign in the window of another part of the building. Really?

This has nothing to do with what's on my mind, but I am really sad about the loss of my soap lady best friend and all the fun, yet sentimental, letters we would have written one another on our new stationary.

You're probably thinking, "Geez Leslie, things must be great if you are mourning fictitious friends and taco restaurants."

Well, you're wrong.

Well, you're not really wrong. Things are fine in that I-have-three-kids-under-seven sort of way.

The new retail businesses near my house have actually nothing to do with, well anything, but I thought it was important for you to know.

I'm in one of those phases when Cole is on my last nerve. It's like last spring all over again. He's whining and screaming when he doesn't get what he likes. He's sad and negative about every.single.thing. It's exhausting and toxic to the whole house and most importantly really hard on me.

(Fine, that's not the most important thing, but it feels like it when I rehash it all in my head.)

I honestly don't think I can even write about it. There's just not much to say. It's a constant battle between my fierce love for him and my very strong annoyance.

I'm praying the love keeps winning out, and that he continues to be this creative with his stories so I have something fun to counteract his very strong personality.

Cole's preschool news of the day, none of which had happened like he said.

In the meantime, this one is scoring all sorts of favorite points.

Aiden's diligently working on homework, practicing piano to no end, cooperating and eating whatever I put in front of him....even if it looks "a little weird." Despite a brief tantrum over a brownie at the end of last week, and who can really blame him, Aiden's been awesome.

This is how it works though, right?

One of them is pushing you so close to the edge that you might fall at any point, so the other ones rally a bit and bring their "A" game so Mommy doesn't have to curl in the fetal position and cry at the back of the closet.

(Not that anything like that has ever happened here.)

(Fine, it's never happened more than quarterly.)

It brings a small sense of balance in this chaotic mess of parenting multiple kids.

Unfortunately, this one is her own back and forth balance of adorable and maddening frustration.

Sequence and being told NO are not her best moments.

There is no constant for who is the easy one, or who is the favorite.

There is this gem though.

The Pampered Chef, Deep Covered Baker

I know it just looks like a red pot. I've been reading a lot of Disney books though and I know it's possible that even a donkey could pour gold coins out of his ear or brooms could clean by themselves....this is sort of like that.

I was recently told you could microwave a whole chicken and vegetables in this and it would taste like it had been roasted in the oven for over an hour. I was a huge doubter because microwaving meat sounded nasty to me....but then I did it on Sunday and it was awesome. It was juicy, evenly cooked, browned, and delicious.

I, of course, promtly researched the health of microwaving food because who cares if it tastes good if it's really just radiation chicken that's ready to give us all cancer? I mean, dinner would be done but it sort of doesn't seem worth it. Turns out microwaving in stoneware (not BPA laden plasic of course) is better for the nutrient composition of foods staying in tact.

Insert a lot of science words here.

Bottom line...not bad for you.

So, I guess I can microwave meats?

I don't even know what to say anymore. This doesn't make up for the disappoint of Great Clips, and the loss of my pretend friend, but it does make dinner a lot easier to prepare while riding out this rough patch with Cole.

Who's going to play Sequence with Stella though? It's really awful.
******************************************************

Linking up with Shell's Pour Your Heart Out check it out here.

Six Things Since Last Week, I'm Out Of Control

noreply@blogger.com (The Mommy Therapy) — Mon, 05 Nov 2012 04:11:00 +0000

Since it's been a week, and the last time I wrote I told you all about how I'm going to take over the world selling pots and pans, you probably assume I had no time to write because I was wildly filling orders for pizza cutters and salad spinners.

Not so.

Fear not folks, my move to The Pampered Chef world has not tamed my wild side. Not that Pampered Chef isn't wild, I mean, they have an herb keeper and everything. Bad. Ass.

Let's run through some of the highlights of my time away from the blog in the last seven days.

1. A ROCK Concert...On a TUESDAY Night

That's right. I'm out of control.

My friends Michele and Sommer invited me to an Allanis Morissette concert almost two months ago. Since it was all the way near the end of October, I said yes! I love Michele and Sommer so the idea of spending a night on the town with them sounded great...until a few weeks before the concert.

I still loved the idea of seeing Sommer and Michele, but I think I started getting nervous about the logistics and the exhaustion of being out on a Tuesday night approximately two weeks ahead of actually going out.

I'm cool like that.

As it turns out though, I totally rallied. I threw on some tight black jeans, big earrings, and dark lipstick and attempted to perform all the hits from Jagged Little Pill for my children before I left.

Turns out I don't sing them very well, and Aiden was just confused about why someone would have to remind another person about them loving them? He's deep, but he just doesn't get Allanis like 1996 me did.

Sommer, Me, and Michele Rockin' It

I would like to officially say that Allanis is still every bit of the rocker with an amazing voice that she was through the speakers in my dorm room at Purdue. She was awesome. I am fairly confident that I would have fallen over if I had to throw around my body in leather pants like she did, maybe not if I were properly hydrated....it's really difficult to tell until I'm in the situation.

(I'll follow up on this later with you.)

I did get to see Allanis VERY close up when I made my way to the ladies room. She smiled at me and said she wants me to be her Pampered Chef rep for life. We were seriously connected.

I spent a majority of the show trying to figure out what the story was on the man in the blue bandanna, sort-of pictured below.

I loved him. He had awful dreds out the top of that bandanna, a moustache, glasses, and a light up shirt. He knew every word to every song and had the coolest head shake while dancing to all the hits. He was just great. I never got the courage to go talk to him though. I mean really, what could I have said to someone like that?

He was awesome.

I was awesome for attending a concert on a Tuesday, but not as awesome has he was.

2. Halloween

Let's start by saying that Halloween blows.

I mean, it's fun and all, but not when you've had a regular day of school, with a regular day of school to come the next day. If Obama or Romney would just take a stand on changing Halloween to the last Friday of October or something spectacular like that, they would win by a landslide.

I should be in politics.

It was fun to see the kids dress up and be so excited about going around the neighborhood. I have one picture of Cole.

And zero pictures of Aiden because he couldn't be bothered to stop and pose for photos when there was candy to be had. He basically looked like a taller, darker version of Cole though since they were both ninjas.

(When is the ninja phase going to end by the way? I am beyond over it.)

This year was Stella's first year of understanding trick-or-treating and was beyond adorable as a bumble bee.

Cole was the sweetest big brother, waiting for her to walk to the door with him, holding her hand, and making sure she was OK at the door. He must have endured countless adults cooing over his little sister while he waited patiently for it to be over so he could walk her back.

That kid is sweet. So sweet.

Halloween still blows though because the next day was ROUGH.

3. Arbonne

People, am I the only person that didn't know how great this stuff is? I'm a little obsessed with their protein shakes, detox powder, and energy fizz drink now.

(Fairly certain I didn't give you the appropriate names for any of that stuff.)

I went to a party last Thursday night for Arbonne.

Pause and take note that this would be night THREE of me leaving my house for something. I am unstoppable.

For some reason I had it in my head that Arbonne was some sort of healthy makeup and skincare cult. I was fully prepared with my safe word and exit strategy should things start to feel awkward or weird mid-party. Turns out though, it was really fun, informative and delicious. I'm sure I'll tell you more than you ever wanted to know about the protein shake once it arrives at my door.

Something to look forward to, right?

4. Pampered Chef

Saturday I had my first official Pampered Chef event, courtesy of Samantha, reader of this blog!

It was fun to pack up all my kitchen goods and get out of the house, but it was awesome to meet Samantha and feel connected to someone that reads this in real life. So, so cool!

You can check out Samantha's blog here.

You can check us out here.

5. Grocery

Yeah, the grocery store was as exciting as it got today.

Oh, we did get frozen yogurt too.

My wild streak continues.

It feels weird to end the post on that lame of a note though, so how about you check out Stella's explanation of how she didn't actually eat the candy I told her she couldn't have.

See what I'm up against?

Have a good week everyone!