I'm Living Proof that God Has a Sense of Humor

Is your willy bigger than mine?

2012-02-24T04:30:00.000-08:00

I was in the kitchen getting the little twins some juice while they were on the stairs yesterday, when I overheard the following conversation:

Garrett: I have a willy, too.

Landon: Mine's bigger than yours though.

Garrett: See, here's my willy. Wanna touch it?

Landon: Yeah. You wanna pet my willy?

Garrett: Yeah. Yours is softer than mine.

When I looked over at them, this is what I saw....

Wait...you knew they were talking about their Free Willy stuffed animals, didn't you?

Get your minds out of the gutter, people!!

Happy Friday!

What You're Really Worth

2012-02-23T04:30:00.004-08:00

I've said it before, and I will say it again – us stay-at-home moms are highly undervalued. Once we tie the knot, put on wedding bands, and have kids, our value is often greatly underestimated in terms of dollar amounts, and many wonder why we don't just get careers.

Well, I'm here to breakdown that myth, and prove that stay-at-home moms are actually worth more in their dollar amount than a working mom.

An average stay-at-home mom works a whopping 96.6 hours a week – that's nearly double what any husband works. In addition to working 40 normal working hours and 56.6 hours of overtime, the average stay-at-home takes on not just one job, but the jobs of approximately 10 other positions:

Housekeeper: The general task of simply being a housekeeper alone take on average 15.4 hours of our week, each week, and we often spend those hours simply keeping the house in some vague form of order. For our time alone, we should be compensated $10,200.

Personal Chef: Kids have to be fed, and because of it, we are often preparing separate meals to appease picky palates. Just over 14 hours a week are spent in the kitchen, and if we really were gainfully employed chefs, we could expect $12,500 annually for our work.

Janitor: As moms, when aren't we cleaning? As we aren't trying to get the kitchen back in order, then we are trying to clean up the latest mess the kids just made. We spend nearly 7.8 hours a week dedicated solely to janitorial duties, and if we were regularly employed could expect $5,100 annually from that amount of work.

Chauffeur: Whether it be to school or to soccer practice, we spend an awful lot of time driving our kids around. 7.8 hours to be exact, and for that driving, we would normally expect to be compensated $7,700 annually.

Psychologist: Really, when aren't we giving someone positive life advice? According to the national average, we spend a little more than 7 hours a week doing so, and annually those hours add up to $18,700 a year. Not too bad, for being a life coach.

CEO: There is no denying that we are in charge in our own homes. We run and manage nearly everything. Our particular CEO duties cost us about 3.9 hours each week, and come with an annual salary of $16,200.

Other positions we hold include facilities manager, daycare teacher, computer operator, and laundry machine operator. These positions combined require a whopping 40 additional extra hours of our week, and offer an annual salary of $47,600. In total, that means us stay-at-home moms should make $115,432 a year!

The average working mom – with professional and at-home responsibilities combined – only brings in $63,472! That means that stay-at-home moms are worth $51,960 more than their working counterparts.

Not too bad if I say so myself. Too bad we will never see a dime of that! However, that doesn't mean that I may not gloat about how much I am worth from time to time.

Guest post written by Jenna Smith. For more information on this kind of post, please read my disclosure statement.

Pouring My Heart Out...It Only Hurts for a Little While

2012-02-22T04:30:00.001-08:00

"You should pull your sleeves down. Your arm looks weird," I overheard the little girl say to my daughter, as the two of them sat on top of the monkey bars at the park.

"Yeah, I'm getting cold anyway," Bella replied, pulling her pushed-up sleeves back down to cover her arms.

Bella glanced over at me and I gave her my bravest smile, even though my heart was exploding into a million jagged pieces.

Later that evening, I approached her.

"I overheard what that little girl said to you about your arm. How did that make you feel?" I asked.

Avoiding eye contact with me, she continued to color as she answered, "I'm okay, I guess."

She paused for a couple seconds and then quietly continued, "But my arm IS weird."

A lump formed in my throat, as this was the first time Bella had ever said anything negative about her arm.

My mind went back to a conversation she and I had a couple years ago after seeking the advice of yet another surgeon.

Back then, at the tender age of 4, she wasn't bothered by the scar which covered the entire bicep of her right arm. In fact, I can still hear her tiny voice telling me, "It doesn't bother me. I think it's pretty and I like it. I want to keep my scar. It makes me special."

Even now, those words bring a smile to my face. So innocent, so resilient, so accepting. Back then...

You see, Bella was born with a hemangioma on her right arm. At first, it was nothing more than a bright red dime-sized mark on her bicep. The NICU staff explained to us what it was and said it would probably fade with time but, in rare instances, hemangiomas can grow at an alarmingly fast pace.

Bella - 11 days old

Her hemangioma was one of those rare instances.

By the time she left the NICU, 4 weeks later, it was obvious the hemangioma had grown tremendously.

Bella - 26 days old

For more details and to view more pictures, you can read this post.

While Bella knows the story of her hemangioma, she gets tired of repeating the story to others....curious strangers who simply have this undying need to know what happened to her arm. We finally told her, "Just tell people it's a birthmark and leave it at that."

Bella - 10 months old

As she continued to color, I responded, "It makes me sad to hear you agreeing with that little girl. I remember a time when you thought your arm was beautiful and you loved that it made you special."

Bella - 13 months old

"I know, Mommy," she said softly. "But you don't know how often people ask me about it and I get so tired of having to explain what it is. And then some kids don't even believe me. They think I got burned or something, like I'm lying about it. Or they say they've never seen a birthmark like mine before. Maybe they're just jealous because my arm is different but still...it hurts my feelings. Sometimes I wish my arm looked normal like everyone else's."

Bella - 3 years old

I pulled her close to me and found solace in the sweet, fruity scent of her freshly washed hair.

To my dismay, the inevitable had finally occurred but I still couldn't help feeling caught off guard by it. It was much sooner than I expected and much more heartbreaking than I had anticipated.

As a parent, I want all my children to be accepted and loved for who they are, regardless of how they look or whatever physical or character flaws they may have. I want their inner beauty to be just as valuable as their outer beauty. More than anything, I wish everyone could see what I see when I look at them...incredible, wonderful, amazing little human beings.

My hand glided over the tough, leathery skin on Bella's right arm as I spoke, "I understand. I really do. I'm sorry those people hurt your feelings. I just want you to be happy and comfortable in your own skin. You are beautiful and special, no matter what. We can go back and talk to the surgeon again, if you like."

Bella - today at 7 years old

Bella put her crayon down and looked up at me. "Not yet. I can wait until I'm a little older. Besides, the comments do hurt my feelings but it only hurts for a little while. Don't be sad. I'm not."

With tears welling up in my eyes, I beamed at my daughter as she began to color her picture again...her words forever embedded in my brain.

It only hurts for a little while. Don't be sad. I'm not.

It never ceases to amaze me.

The fact that my 7-year old daughter is so much braver and more tolerant than I am as an adult is something I will truly never understand.

Bread machine fail #6

2012-02-17T09:23:00.000-08:00

A good friend of mine loaned me her bread machine....quite awhile ago. So long ago, in fact, that I honestly think she's forgotten about it.

Although I did try to give it back to her a couple times and she waved her hand at me and said, "I never used it. At least you're getting some use out of it".

Getting SOME use out of it? Well, that might be the understatement of the year.

I'm in love with this bread machine. Seriously, it can do amazing things that I could never do. Such as make bread...and pizza dough...and all kinds of deliciousness.

I come off looking like Supermom while the bread machine sulks in the corner, feeling unappreciated and unloved. I'll have to give it an extra gentle caress next time I use it. I wouldn't want it to crap out on me and make me look bad.

So....the other night, I made homemade pizza. Yep, dough from scratch and everything. I like to mix olive oil, italian seasonings and parmesan cheese in with the other ingredients, including white whole wheat flour and ground flaxseed so it can still be considered somewhat healthy (and the kids and Tim never suspect a thing!)

All I did was throw the ingredients in the machine and let it do all the work. While the pizzas cooked in the oven, our home was filled with such a wonderful pizza-licious aroma that it literally made my mouth water.

Half turkey pepperoni/half cheese

Mushrooms and Olives

Happy customers

Another happy customer

The next day, I got a wild hare up my ass to make cinnamon rolls in the bread machine. My kids love cinnamon rolls but I tend not to buy them because they just have so many unhealthy ingredients, mainly partially hydrogenated oils.

But I figured if I made them then I could control the ingredients (see, there I go again...total type-A control freak) and maybe even sneak in some ground flaxseed.

I talked up these cinnamon rolls to the kids ALL. DAY. LONG. I mean, nonstop talking about these damn rolls. Every 10 minutes, I was all, "These are gonna be the bomb, you guys!" and "OMG, I cannot wait until these are done...YUM!!!"

They were super excited....hell, even Tim was excited. And you all know he very rarely gets excited about anything (unless it's a spontaneous sexual encounter with yours truly, which doesn't happen often obviously).

After the first hour, I heard the bread machine beep. I thought, "Well, that's weird" and I checked the dough but it seemed okay so I left it alone.

Two hours later, the machine beeped again. The dough was done!

Except it wasn't dough. It was bread. Cooked bread.

"Uh, Mommy, that doesn't look like dough," one of the little smart asses commented.

"Hmmm, I don't know what I did wrong. Was I supposed to take the dough out when it beeped about two hours ago?" I asked, completely dumbfounded as I thumbed through the machine's manual.

Yep, apparently, that first set of beeps was meant as, "Hello...dumb ass. Take the dough out of the machine now."

The kids were in tears, snot dripping down their faces..."You said we were gonna have cinnamon rolls. You lied to us! You made bread instead!"

For crying out loud. I'm only human. Aren't I entitled to make a mistake or two....or six?

With some quick thinking, I said, "We can still eat it, even though it's not technically cinnamon rolls. Here, I'll just put the cinnamon sugar on the bread with some butter and we can eat it like that, okay?"

I smothered the slices of sweet bread with the cinnamon sugar and butter and handed them each a piece, which they promptly gobbled up.

"MMMMMMM," they all said in unison. "This is really good!"

After Cole finished his slice, he said, "Mommy, you make the best food ever!"

And that was enough to warm my heart, even though they were completely devastated just ten minutes earlier.

I'm going to attempt those damn cinnamon rolls again today...and you can bet your sweet ass I won't be mentioning it to the kids unless the rolls come out absolutely perfect this time!

The SAHM's Survival Guide

2012-02-16T04:15:00.000-08:00

One of my lovely friends, Kristen at A Little Something For Me, recently asked if I'd like to write a guest post on her blog.

"Hell yeah," was my response. Because I simply adore her.

What's not to love about someone who is passionate, honest, and expressive?

Kristen is a loving mother of three children (including an adorable set of twins and a precious special needs baby). She's the type of mother who will walk the ends of the earth for her children...she takes her job as advocate for them very seriously.

And she has the most amazing sense of humor. She's able to poke fun at herself and laugh about the silly things.

That's why I love her...and you will too!

Kristen has just transitioned from working outside the home to being a full-time SAHM so I wrote "The SAHM's Survival Guide" in her honor! Or in memory of her former life. Whichever.

I'd be happier than a clam at high tide if you'd take a minute and head over there and read my guest post, especially if you could use a dash of humor in your day!

And subscribe to Kristen's blog while you're over there!

Things you never knew about Big Foot, according to my kids....

2012-02-14T09:30:00.000-08:00

My kids are obsessed with Big Foot. Like, seriously obsessed. It's almost an illness.

Morning, noon and night, they are talking about this big, hairy monster-type....uh, thing.

They discovered Big Foot after watching the movie Judy Moody and The Not So Bummer Summer.

And they believe he is real and living in a nearby forest here in Northern California.

So in case you were wondering, here are some things you never knew about Big Foot...according to my kids:

1) Big Foot's favorite foods are grapes, deer, cheeseburgers with everything (including pickles...never ever forget the pickles or you will pay dearly), lollipops, marshmallows and berries.

2) He has no choice but to poop out in the wild so he has to wipe his butt with sticks and/or leaves. Leaves can also be mulit-purposed as a hairbrush.

3) He's a Sasquatcher. Nope, not a Sasquatch...but a Sasquatcher.

4) Never ever confuse Big Foot with Chewbacca. Chewbacca is a Wookie and Big Foot is a Sasquatcher. There's a big difference between the two.

Photo Credit

5) He has no friends....because he eats his friends.

6) He has green eyes that sometimes turn brown. It depends on his mood. And he has yellow teeth. Because there is no such thing as a toothbrush in the wild. Or toothpaste. Duh.

7) Big Foot spends his days eating his favorite foods and running away from people. When he's not running away from people, he's hunting them down. If he's lucky enough to catch a person, he kills them and eats them....raw, like sushi.

8) He's mean. So never try to capture him and make him your family pet.

9) Big Foot cannot talk. He just kind of roars, like an angry monster. And don't try to talk to him because he doesn't understand English. Only Spanish.

10) He smells like garbage, poop....and bad breath.

Now, don't you feel enlightened on all things Big Foot?

Hi, I’m a type-A control freak mom of multiple multiples…nice to meet you!

2012-02-10T04:30:00.000-08:00

When people find out I have two sets of twins, one of their comments is almost always, "Wow, how do you do it?"

Truthfully, I've never had an answer for that question. I'm just doing the best I can with what God equipped me with. Well, that and a healthy dose of Paxil.

I don't know anything other than multiple multiples. Hand me a singleton child and I'd probably struggle and want to throw myself into oncoming traffic.

Twins...that's my thing.

So, how do I do it?

Well, I suppose my type-A control freak personality comes into play and seems to be a huge advantage when it comes to being a mom of multiple multiples. I'm a huge planner and I crave organization and harmony.

When my kids were younger, I could tell you exactly what time they'd be napping, eating a meal, crapping in their diapers EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. because I was such a schedule nazi. Friends and family would scoff at my inability to be more flexible.

Too freakin' bad...it wasn't them who would be up at 2:00 am with two wide-awake babies who had napped all day long.

Then, of course, there were those well-meaning people who fed me their unsolicited advice based.

Like my MIL who was convinced Bella would end up with shaken-baby syndrome because Bella preferred the fastest speed in her baby swing. It was the only way she would sleep for a period of time.

Sure, life has certainly become easier now that my kids aren't dependent on naps, eating schedules and diapers any longer.

But that hasn't stopped my tendency to control all things possible in order to lesson the chaos in my life.

And this is where meal planning comes into play. I used to laugh at those people who planned their meals out a week in advance...until I started doing it and realized how essential it is to keeping the peace in our home.

How does meal planning keep the peace in our home, you might be wondering?

Well, first off, the kids help me plan the meals. Every Saturday, I ask each of them to come up with one of their favorite meals to put on the planner.

You may notice some of the meals above are repeated week from week...because my children are creatures of habit and I'm fine with that. So Tim and I have to suffer through eating french toast for dinner almost every single week but it's less food I have to waste and that makes me happy.

Plus, when I go grocery shopping, I know exactly what I need to buy...and what I don't need to buy. I've saved a ton of money on groceries since beginning this whole "weekly meal planning" strategy.

Another way I stay in control is this ultra-cool calendar that Tim bought me for Christmas. Does my man know me or what?

I love that each family member has his/her own little area where activities, appointments or whatever can be written in.

Yes, I'm so anal I even have the damn "change water filter" reminder written on there because I will forget if it's not written somewhere.

The "journal" note is something I just started doing again recently. Once a week, I'll write in these adorable little journals I have for each of the kids.

Simple, a little personal note to them about what's happened in their life within the last month and things I want them to know, specifically just for them.

I started doing this about 2 years ago and...well, then life got in the way. But I'm back in the habit again, especially now that I have it written in my calendar as a reminder.

So, my friends, that is how this mother of multiple multiples does it, without losing her sanity. In case you ever wondered.

How do you manage it all?

Want to Know Wednesdays...Celebrating the Small Victories

2012-02-08T09:57:00.000-08:00

Hosted by Mamarazzi, Queso and Crazymama

{1} What is for dinner tonight (bonus for sharing the recipe)?

Pork loin, orzo with parmesan and basil and some type of veggie.

The pork loin is to die for! I put a rub of various spices and extra virgin olive oil on it and roast it for about 90 minutes. It's super juicy and so tasty.

The orzo is delicious too! Found the recipe online and pinned it! If you want to check it out, here's a link...http://pinterest.com/pin/277252920779788095/

{2} Share something you are currently looking forward to.

Actually, there are two things I'm looking forward to.

One is our annual Disneyland trip this year in May! But this time, we're not telling the kids about it until the day we leave. They're gonna be so super excited!!!

I'm also looking forward to the construction on our home being completed. It's been so chaotic around here, trying to keep track of the construction schedule and trying to keep the kids out of the workers' way.

It's a wonder no one's lost an arm or a leg yet. The workers, I mean.

{3} What are your thoughts on re-gifting?

You know, my attitude is whatever works for you.

And if you're assuming I've done it before based on that answer, you'd be right.

But it was a super nice gift that was re-gifted and that has to count for something.

{4} How often do you rearrange your furniture?

Actually, quite often. I get tired of seeing the same things in the same place. So I'm constantly moving things around and switching everything up.

Plus, it irritates the kids.

It's payback. What can I say?

{5} Share a picture from your cellphone or camera.

How sweet is this??

We had gone out to dinner and as we were being lead to our table, Garrett and Cole had their arms around each other.

Of course, not 5 minutes later, they were attempting to spit on one another so you can see why I have to celebrate the small victories as they come.

Because they don't happen often.

Oh and small PS - Some of you asked what the name of the book was in one of my previous posts but you left no e-mail in your profile or any other way to get in touch with you so it's Night Road by Kristin Hannah.

Saving space with a vanity mirror...

2012-02-07T08:32:00.000-08:00

Guest post written by Isla Brown

I've been working over the past few months to basically repaint and reorganize our household. I guess that I'm also doing a little bit of redecorating along the way. But I'm also working on finding cheaper ways to do that bit of redecorating rather than investing in huge pieces of furniture.

But we're also Installing new floors because that's something that we definitely needed to have done. That's where a big part of our pretty small budget is going to. There was another part that I wanted to concentrate on too, my little corner of my bedroom where I get dressed and ready in the mornings.

I wanted something besides the little hand mirror that I use, so I got a vanity mirror to hang on the wall. That wall I can more easily see my whole look at one time. Plus, I found one that will just hang up on the wall and not take up any additional space. It has a really adorable frame too, which is even better!

Don't mind me...I'm just mourning a fictional character

2012-02-06T05:00:00.000-08:00

Have you ever read a book so captivating...so enchanting...that you end up falling hopelessly in love with the characters?

They begin to feel like real people to you, rather than fictional characters in a book.

You can't stop talking about the book to friends, family members...total strangers on the street.

Before you know it, these characters have fully consumed you. You begin to avoid appointments and turn down play dates just so you can stay home and read this book. Perhaps even neglecting your kids for a few minutes so you can sneak in just one more paragraph.

Well, I'm certainly guilty of this. I have such passion for books...it's almost like a ravishing love affair that devours me whole.

When I finish a book, I need at least a few days (if not an entire week) to process the story line and have closure before I can move on to another one.

Recently, I fell in love with yet another set of characters (I won't name the book here mainly because I don't want to spoil it for any one who hasn't read it yet). Head over heels, whole-heartedly.

There were several twists and turns which I couldn't foresee and then...out of nowhere....one of the characters died in a horrific car accident.

She was young...a foolish, drunk teenager...who made a stupid decision not to wear her seat belt. And due to a series of poor choices, her best friend (also her twin brother's girlfriend), who also had been drinking, was driving.

The story continued with how this one bad decision affected two families. The aftermath of this terrible tragedy was gut-wrenching. Everyone's lives were affected one way or another.

The best friend takes responsibility for the accident (even though it was the dead girl's twin who was supposed to be driving) and she goes to prison for 5 years.

Soon after, she discovers she's pregnant and offers her boyfriend the opportunity to raise their daughter, with no intention of ever being involved in her child's life.

I felt the devastating pain of these families, especially the dead girl's mother, who is so consumed with grief she's unable to bond with her granddaughter...or feel anything at all. She's just a hollow shell, floating through life, crossing days off on a calendar.

Of course, the story ends on a happy note but for awhile I was so caught up in the drama of this book that I found myself in mourning...for a fictional character.

Yes, people...I cried real tears and grieved for someone who doesn't even exist. I wielded such sorrow and heartache that it felt as though I had lost one of my own children.

I didn't even realize how much it had affected me...how deeply the anguish pained me...until one of my kids mentioned something.

"Mommy," Cole mentioned. "What's wrong with you? You're acting sad."

I replied, "Well, I guess I kinda am sad. I was just really into this book and one of the characters died."

He stood there for a full minute, digesting what I had just told him.

"But you know it's not real, right? It was just a book," he stated.

"Uh, yeah, I know it's not real. I suppose it just affected me more than expected."

And then my 7-year old son rolled his eyes at me and walked away....

"Mommy's sad because some fake character in a book died," I overheard him mumble to his concerned siblings.

Whatever. I can't help that my emotions are as obvious as Kim Kardashian's inability to love another human being more than she loves herself.

I shouted to them, "Yeah, don't mind me...I'm just mourning a fictional character. There's nothing wrong with that!"

Or is there?

Pouring My Heart Out...Parenting Has Turned Me Into a Social Hermit

2012-02-01T05:00:00.000-08:00

As I listened to a few girlfriends chatting about how fun it would be to take off somewhere minus the husbands and the kids...just us girls...I couldn't help but think it sounded more stressful than being at home.

Call me crazy but socializing actually drains me these days.

Here's the thing...I spend a good portion of my day taking care of my kids.

Making them meals, wiping their asses, playing endless games to the point where I can't see straight, keeping them happy and entertained.

They hang on me, they lay on me, they're constantly touching me. They talk to me for hours on end until their voices all blend together.

Oh, don't get me wrong. That's probably the best part about parenting...the hugs and kisses, the cuddly moments where they lay with you and allow you to snuggle with them. And, of course, hearing their giggles, snorts and laughter.

But what it also means is I'm usually physically and emotionally tapped out come 7:00 on most evenings. I've already "worked" a full day by the time they go to bed and the last thing I want to do is change out of my comfy clothes and get all dolled up to meet some friends for dinner.

And weekends?

My weekends are usually filled with grocery shopping, running errands and then good old family time.

I'll admit I'm most comfortable when I'm at home.

If I'm fortunate enough to have Tim take the kids to his parents house for a few hours on a Sunday, the only thing I want to do is curl up on my sofa with a cup of tea and get completely lost in a good book.

I don't want to meet a girlfriend to go shopping with, I don't want to have lunch with anyone. I just want to be alone in my own little world where I can relax...where I feel happy and content...where I can wear a tank top with no bra and a pair of ratty, old boxer shorts.

I have found that I don't crave new friendships as much as I did in my earlier years...you know, before I grew four human beings inside my body, two at a time, and was gutted like a fish to bring them into this world.

Perhaps I'm at my emotional and social limit? Maybe parenting has filled a void for me where I'm not as lonely as I used to be?

I do have friends...very good friends who I can count on for whatever I need, in good times and in bad. I have good friends who I know will have my back, who are extremely loyal to a fault. Those are the friends I would entrust my children to if it became necessary.

That's not to say I'm not open to new friendships; I'm just not actively seeking them out.

The internet, however, is a whole different story. Because it takes virtually very little effort to connect with another blogger.

I read a blog post which resonates with me, I leave a comment on the blog, the blogger e-mails me and...alas, an online friendship has blossomed. It doesn't require me to invest hours and hours of shopping, meeting up for coffee or anything else more than what I can provide at this time.

Probably a HUGE downfall but it's all I can manage for the time being.

Things may be different once my children are a little older and become more involved in school activities. With them being gone all day in school, I may find myself yearning for new friendships. I may want to step out of my comfort zone and socialize more.

But, for now...I'm pretty comfortable being a social hermit.

As you grow older, how do you feel about making new friends? Do you prefer a small circle of close friends or a large number of acquaintances?

If...You Are a Better Mom Than Me

2012-01-30T05:00:00.000-08:00

My lovely friend "Zeemaid" at In the Mommy Trenches recently wrote a post called If...You Are A Better Mom Than Me, which threw me into hysterics.

And then I jumped on the bandwagon and hijacked her comment section with a few of my own. Finally, I just came right out and asked if she minded if I borrowed her idea!

If you never check your e-mail while your kids are talking to you...you are a better mom than me.

If you happily allow your children to help you cook dinner every night without completely losing your shit...you are a better mom than me.

If your husband comes home from work and lays on the sofa, complaining about how tired he is, while you've been fighting with the kids to do their homework and trying to get dinner ready and you don't fantasize about how great it would feel to smash his head with a frying pan...you are a better mom than me.

If you never curse in front of your kids...you are a better mom than me.

If you read your children a bedtime story every single night....you are a better mom than me.

If you never threaten to shave your children's hair in their sleep next time they wake you up in the middle of the night for something silly....you are a better mom than me.

If you've never told your kids little white lies, such as "An angel cries every time a child picks his nose"...you are a better mom than me.

If you never mourn the independence and freedom you enjoyed prior to having children...you are a better mom than me.

If you make each of your children a different meal every night at dinner because they're extremely picky....you are a better mom than me.

If you've never set the clock ahead by 30 minutes and then gleefully announced "Oh, look, it's bedtime"....you are a better mom than me.

If you give your children a bath every evening...you are a better mom than me.

If you've never tried to convince your child to trespass...you are a better mom than me.

Feel free to add some of your own in the comments....or do your own post (please remember to link to Zeemaid's blog)!

I don’t even know where to start….

2012-01-26T09:33:00.001-08:00

Believe it or not, my house was perfectly clean just two days ago.

TWO DAYS AGO!

And now…..

Sigh….there are simply not enough hours in a day.

No more "bored" games for us....

2012-01-25T09:16:00.000-08:00

One of my favorite things to do with my kids is play board games.

I know, I know...some parents would rather undergo a painful root canal than play a board game with their kids. Tim, in particular. He considers them "bored" games and refuses to partake in our twice-a-week ritual. Honestly, I think it's because he's afraid the kids will kick his ass at Monopoly but that's just between me and you guys, okay?

I think spending quality time with your kids playing games is so important. Not only for the cognitive learning possibilities (counting numbers on a pair of dice, identifying colors, following a sequential pattern, etc) but also for the social opportunities it provides (learning how to wait your turn, good sportsmanship, etc).

One of our absolute favorite games to play is Monopoly (the electronic banking version). I used to get frustrated having to deal with all the fake money but with the electronic banking version, it makes it really simple for young players.

Every player gets a plastic card (similar to a credit card) and you simply slide the card in the banking device to add money or take money from your account. Even my 4-year olds know how to operate it.

And I love that they're essentially learning how to handle money. Like, for instance, they land on a property they were hoping to buy but they don't quite have enough money to buy it. Or when they owe another player money....they know they have to make good on their loan or there will be consequences.

Great life lessons, right?

Another game we love is Battleship. Not only do I love the competitiveness of this game but I like that the kids are learning how to plan strategically. They really have to use their brains in this game, pay attention and try to outsmart their opponent.

They also have to know their letters and numbers in order to identify spots on the board, which has been helpful for the little twins.

Lastly, a perfect game for the little ones (preschool age) is Yahtzee Junior. Even my big twins love this game.

It's super easy to play...simply roll the dice and try to match up the faces of the characters.

This game teaches kids how to count, recognize matches and good sportsmanship. Garrett and Landon have even learned how to add up their scores at the end of the game to determine who the winner is.

Those are just a few of our favorites! We have stacks and stacks of various board and card games that we enjoy.

Board games are such a wonderful way to bring the family together (unless, of course, you have one particular person in the family who is a party pooper....cough, cough...Tim).

And one of the perks is that all these games are affordable! There are plenty of ways to save on Hasbro games...right now you can get 35% off!

If you don't already enjoy a family night of board games, why not start? I can guarantee it's something your kids will love and come to really look forward to!

What games does your family enjoy playing together?

A day in the life of a 4-year old...

2012-01-24T05:30:00.000-08:00

Ah, to be 4 years old again.

To have your days filled with nothing but excitement and curiosity....silliness and good times.

No worries in the world, other than hoping you can have chicken nuggets again for lunch (for the 5th day in a row).

Your "homework" consists of practicing your writing skills, while learning number sequence.

And you know that no matter how many mistakes you might make, your teacher is still going to give you a high-five and a gold star...simply because you applied yourself.

There's no better feeling than when all your hard work pays off, as you finally figure out how to blow bubbles....a skill you've been trying to master for months.

Whipping up a batch of mini-cakes in your sister's Easy-Bake oven is your idea of "really cool fun"...especially because you know you'll get to lick the spoon and the bowl (even though your mother has warned you numerous times about salmonella poisoning).

Nothing makes you happier than eating the other half of the giant burrito your dad couldn't finish....because you're such a big boy with an endless appetite.

You've got nothing but time on your hands and you have no problem taking a few minutes out of your day to say hello to a friendly cat, even though your mom is nagging you to hurry along.

"Cats need love too," you tell her.

Throwing leaves in the air makes you giggle until you're doubled over with a bad case of hiccups.

No worries about where the leaves land....you love to scoop them all up into a huge pile and throw them up in the air...over and over again, with boundless energy.

Every open road leads you wherever you want to go. The options are unlimited.

The world is your oyster, just waiting to be discovered and acted upon.

To be 4 years old again....life just seemed so simple, didn't it?

What good is being married to a computer geek if I can't take advantage of him?

2012-01-20T05:00:00.000-08:00

I often joke with my friends about how awful it would be to be married to a male gynecologist.

I mean, think about it. After looking at endless vaginas of all shapes and sizes ALL. DAY. LONG. and having to endure in embarrassing conversations about "women issues", does he tell his horny wife, "Sorry, honey, not tonight. If I have to look at one more vagina, I'm gonna claw my eyeballs out."

Another example. The car mechanic. Does he really want to spend his entire weekend fixing his wife's car, after having spent his entire work week repairing everyone else's car? Probably not.

Tim is the average computer geek.

Sure, he doesn't exactly look like one...you know, the stereotypical introvert who wears his hair greased and parted on the side, glasses always slipping down to the edge of his nose, pens in his shirt pocket and can't hold a decent conversation to save his life because being around people makes his palms all sweaty.

HTML is his language of love, though...which proves he is, in fact, a complete computer geek. He loves this kind of stuff so I never gave it much thought any time I had a problem with my computer.

Last week, I opened my laptop and saw some weird test was running.

"What's this?" I asked him.

Complete silence.

"Yo, computer geek. What's this on my laptop? It's doing something strange," I repeated.

"Oh, are you talking to me?" he asked.

Bordering on annoyance, I said, "Yes, I'm talking to you. You are the resident computer expert, aren't you?"

He walked over to my laptop, shrugged his shoulders and then went back to eating his breakfast.

"Well?" I begged. "Is that normal?"

"I don't know. Let it finish running the test and then I'll look at it," he explained, nonchalantly.

20 minutes later, the test was still running and I was growing more worried.

"Will you please have a look at my laptop? Something's not right," I pleaded.

He rolled his eyes and said, "Okay, okay....geez, calm down."

"I can't calm down. My entire life is on that laptop!"

"Have you been backing everything up like I showed you? The pictures? Your book?", he asked.

I mumbled under my breath, "Uh, not exactly."

"Dammit," he shouted. "I told you to back everything up! This is the third time this has happened!"

"Well, any time I work on my book, I save it to a flash drive but I kept forgetting to take care of the pictures. You know, I kept meaning to and then I'd forget," I tried to explain.

He shoved his chair away from the table and sat in front of my laptop. I watched his fingertips tap endlessly on the keyboard.

"Shit," he sighed. "Probably a virus or your hard drive crashed."

With that, he went upstairs.

"Well," I shouted after him. "What should I do?"

"Just shut it off when it's done running the test and I'll work on it when I can," he replied.

"But I need my laptop NOW," I pleaded.

"Just use another computer until I can get to it. Use the one I'm preparing for the demo in Vegas."

Later that day, after he had a chance to look at my poor laptop, Tim said, "I'm going to see if I can recover all your docs and pics off your hard drive. But I'm getting sick of this always happening. You HAVE to backup everything. I tell you this all the time!"

"I guess I figure you can always fix it if there's a problem," I commented.

"I can't always fix it, though. That's the problem. You think I can just work magic and fix everything. Just back everything up from now on and stop putting me through this!"

"But...but....but you're a computer whiz. You can fix anything. Friends call and you rush to fix THEIR computers. My mom and sister always have computer issues and you have no problem helping them. You're like the super hero of computers!" I offered.

"Whatever," he remarked.

"Don't 'whatever' me!" I complained. "You love this kind of stuff. What good is being married to a computer geek if I can't take advantage of you!"

Uh-oh...I knew where this was headed. Me and my big mouth.

"Tell you what," he smiled slyly. "You can take advantage of me if you let me take advantage of you."

"Well, that's not exactly fair now. I mean, you fix everyone else's computer with no expectations. Why not mine too?"

Tim shrugged his shoulders. "That's the deal. Take it or leave it."

My laptop now sits naked, without its hard drive, on the kitchen table.

It's being held hostage, basically. And I'm getting more and more desperate to be reunited with my beloved laptop.

I may have to let Tim take advantage of me so he'll get the damn thing working for me again.

Sigh...

I wonder if our dentist's wife has to put out any time she needs a root canal.

Okay, who spiked the Kool Aid?

2012-01-18T06:00:00.000-08:00

It happened, people. It FINALLY happened.

I knew eventually my time would come if I could just learn to be a little more patient.

Over the years, I'd listened to friends brag about their experiences and I'd seethe with insane jealousy.

I'm a good person...how come I was never one of the fortunate ones? When would it be MY time?

Marcia, Marcia, Marcia....

Well, friends...my time finally came.

I took the kids shopping for new shoes and, the first time ever, I didn't want to run out of the store and throw myself into oncoming traffic.

We went to two different stores. First, was Payless Shoe Source because I'm cheap and Garrett and Landon go through shoes quicker than Kim Kardashian goes through husbands.

The store manager measured their feet and, within ten minutes, they each had picked out a pair of shoes that made them squeal with delight. TEN MINUTES. That's like a world record when it comes to picky preschoolers finding that exact perfect shoe.

I paid for the shoes and tried not to keel over in shock when both boys shouted, "Thank you for our new shoes, Mommy!"

Okay, who spiked the Kool Aid?

On our way over to the other store, I couldn't stop gushing about their impressive behavior.

"I was super proud of your behavior in the shoe store. You all stayed together, you didn't pull endless boxes of shoes off the shelf, you helped each other...there were no tears, no snot, no foul smells randomly emitted.  Seriously, I'm beyond thrilled with how well behaved you guys were!"

They were all smiles...getting along fabulously, singing along to the radio.

WTF?   Was this really happening? Best not to overanalyze it...

At the second store, Big 5 Sporting Goods, Cole and Bella were excited to buy their first pair of Heelys, which they'd been begging for for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, I caved and agreed.

They both promptly sat on the floor and began trying on various pairs, while Garrett and Landon sat on the floor next to them and watched.

Let me just repeat that again because it simply merits repeating.

Garrett and Landon sat on the floor next to their older brother and sister, patiently waiting for them to settle on a pair of shoes to purchase.

THIS. NEVER. HAPPENS. Usually, while I'm helping Cole and Bella, the little twins are tearing through the store, ripping things off of shelves, annoying other customers.

On the drive home, there was nothing but happy chattering from the kids.  They were sharing gummy worms with one another. I was hearing tons of "May I please have another gummy worm?" and "thank you's".

From the very back of the minivan, Cole and Bella both shouted, "We love our shoes, Mommy. Thank you!"

Again, I ask, WTF?

I suddenly felt the urge to find a huge hill covered with green grass, hold hands with my kids and sing at the top of my lungs.

The hills are alive with the sound of happy children....la, la, la, la

I kept waiting for lightening to strike. Or John Quinones, the host of Primetime: What Would You Do to appear out of nowhere and say, "Ma'am, we're doing a segment on why some parents go clinically insane after taking their kids shopping for new shoes...."

Upon returning home, they immediately tore into the bags and put on their new shoes...leaving a mess of open, scattered shoeboxes all over the floor.

Not wanting to ruin our happy day, I chose not to complain about them leaving behind a huge mess for me to clean up, as they joyfully sprinted towards the backyard to test out their new shoes.

Beggars can't be choosers, I suppose. And some battles just aren't worth fighting, especially when I just experienced a major milestone...a wonderful shopping experience with my kids.

As I peeked out the window and witnessed them all chasing one another in the backyard, laughing happily and getting along beautifully, I thought, "This is what I've been waiting for. This is how I imagined motherhood would be."

My very next thought?

Where can I get some of that freakin' Kool Aid?

The social life of a 7-year old girl...

2012-01-16T10:15:00.000-08:00

I met Bella outside her classroom the other day after school. She and another little girl in her class were chatting about the day's events.

As they bid one another farewell, the little girl shouted to Bella, "Call me!"

I glanced at Bella and asked, "Uh, did she just tell you to call her?"

Bella nodded her head. "Yeah, she gave me her phone number. She wants me to call her tonight."

"But you just spent an entire day with her at school and I'm assuming you sat by her at lunch and played together at recess. What on earth could you two have to discuss that you haven't already talked about," I grilled her.

With her signature rolling of the eyes, she answered, "We have lots to talk about."

Oh, Helene...how quickly you forget what it's like to be a young girl in the midst of fitting into the social scene at the local elementary school.

With a huge sigh, I left it at that and figured she'd probably space out and completely forget to call her friend.

But, of course, she didn't. Because this is Bella we're talking about, after all, and she can still remember the flavor cake I made for her 3rd birthday party. This child has the memory of an elephant.

That evening, after dinner, Bella grabbed the phone and asked me to dial the girl's number.

I teased, "The rule should be that if you can't even dial your friend's number then you shouldn't be using the phone."

Her voice riddled with obvious annoyance, she huffed, "Mommy, come on! Please dial her number for me."

"Let's make sure you have proper phone etiquette before it gets potentially embarrassing. When her mom or dad answer the phone, you say 'Hi, may I please speak to Natalie? This is Bella, her friend from school'. You don't say 'Let me talk to Natalie' or 'Is Natalie there'. Be polite. Don't yell into the phone. And don't spit into the phone, for the love of God," I explained.

"Spit into the phone!" she repeated. "What's the big deal...it's not like the spit is going to land on her through the phone!"

"Yeah," I said. "But I might be the next one to use that phone and I don't want YOUR spit all over MY face."

Another signature eye roll and another "Mommy, come on!"

She was growing impatient with me. I do love to have my fun.

Once I dialed the number for her and assured that she was politely requesting her friend and identifying herself as the caller, I nodded my head, giving Bella permission to take the phone with her to the top of the staircase where she wouldn't be bothered by the excessive noise coming from her 3 obnoxious brothers.

After a few minutes of wondering what the hell these girls could be discussing that simply could not wait until the next day, I decided to spy and heard Bella saying, "OMG, I know...Totally...Oh, I know...Yeah... Whatever... OMG, she did?...Yeah, I know...OMG!"

Pause for a few seconds of silence. You know, let her friend get in some more words here and there.

And then, again, "OMG. I totally can't believe that. Tomorrow, let's just tell her that she can't play with us if she's not going to be nice."

Uh-oh, is there drama going on in the 2nd grade....again? Of course there is.

She was quiet for a minute or two.

Then, "Okay....yeah.....uh-huh....I know. Yeah...cool. Okay....yeah, see you tomorrow."

Bella handed the phone back to me and I had to ask, "Soooo....what's going on? Any drama to tell your mama?"

She shook her head and answered, "No, I've got it covered."

"Oh, please, just tell me," I begged. Because I don't have enough drama in my life after watching The Bachelor and Keeping Up With the Kardashians.

Letting out a irritated sigh, she explained, "Well, we were having problems with a girl in our class being mean to us at recess. So Natalie and I just, like, decided to ignore her. That's all."

"Oh, I see. Sounds like you have it all under control, my little friend. And I'm so proud of you for handling it the way you did. Sometimes just ignoring a mean person is the best way to handle it. Don't let them get under your skin, you know."

"Mommy, don't worry about me so much," she assured me. "It was just one little thing. No big deal."

The very next night, she was back on the phone again with this same little girl.

Only this time, they were discussing little brothers and how gross they are.

Ah, to be 7 years old again.

Then again, no thanks.

Dear Jersey Shore Cast...guest post courtesy of The Literal Mom

2012-01-12T07:27:00.000-08:00

Today's entertaining guest post comes to you from the beautiful and talented Missy at Literal Mom.

You know how when you stumble upon a blog for the first time and after reading merely a few paragraphs of one of the posts, you feel instantly drawn in? Kind of like coming home after a long vacation?   You feel an overwhelming connection to this blogger, as if you've been lifelong friends, and you just know if you were to get together in person, your friendship would be the kind where you finish each other's sentences.

That's how I feel about Missy. I ran across her blog one day and have not stopped reading since.

She is a devoted wife to her loving husband and the mother of two precious daughters, as well as an active community volunteer, an advocate for childhood education and a leader in several community organizations.

Not only is Missy witty, funny and incredibly sweet, she writes with such purpose and honesty. She's not afraid to put her thoughts and experiences on parenting out there for the world to read. Missy writes about things that some of us are afraid to admit, such as when our kids get hurt and we get more caught up in what others think of our parenting skills rather than our injured child.

She has helped me to become a better mother....a THINKING mother, which is the whole point behind Literal Mom.

I hope you enjoy this hilarious guest post from her! And after reading it, please leave Missy some comment love and then go to Literal Mom and be sure to subscribe!

========================================

Dear Jersey Shore Cast

I want  to thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for what you've done to change pop culture and how our yutes today view their role in society and, more specifically, drinking establishments.

My husband and I recently went out on New Year's Eve with some good friends of ours. Good friends whom we've had copious amounts of alcohol in public places  socialized with before. So we know each other and like to "have each other's backs," much like you do when you go out to find out who's DTF for the evening.

And that raises my first "thank you" of this letter.

The DTF.  What a witty way to describe a woman who's willing to engage in what we used to call a "one-night-stand." I think it's really quite ingenious of you to incorporate it not only into your lingo with each other, but to use it as a pick up line! What better way to learn if a woman is "DTF - down to fuck" than by asking her!

I understand how a man wants to know the end result of his evening's work.

Being a married woman myself, I'm sure my husband greatly appreciates that I'm a sure bet on our nights out. Or DTF, as you would say. I think, though, if I have one bit of advice, it would be to recognize that I am not DTF to YOU. I am DTF to my HUSBAND. Therefore, if you come up and start the DTF dance on me (see below) and my husband taps you on the shoulder and says, "That's my wife," your response should not be "I don't see a ring on her finger."

And when he takes said ringed finger and shoves it in your face so that you do indeed see it, your next response should not be, "Yeah, well, she's dancing. It looks like she likes it to me."

That kind of thing doesn't go over well with a married man of 14 years whose wife drank too much and is now dancing like it's still the 80s enjoying a night out with his wife.

To the ladies in regard to DTF, how nice it is for YOU to not have to worry about the mixed signals you may send through the evening. Now, thanks to the Jersey Shore men, you have the chance to answer yes, no, or maybe later when asked if you are DTF.

Which brings me to my second reason to thank you:

DTF Dancing.  I really like how you've taken dancing to the next level. I love how you double team drunk girls (I'm quite sure it's to help them stand up from massive alcohol consumption and has nothing to do with an animalistic desire to have a 3-way with her) and I love how you've taken things that used to be left for the bedroom and exposed them for public consumption!

How I would have loved to be in college and have a guy I barely knew come up behind me, grasp my hips and start rubbing his money maker all over my booty. Really, really a boost in confidence that most girls need.

And to the girls, I love the outfits you wear to both encourage booty dancing and make it easier to booty dance effectively.

Which brings me to my next reason to thank you.

The Booty Dress. Your dresses! My have they shortened in the past several years! That must be so helpful to the men who want to DTF with you. And that's so nice of you. Recently I saw a particularly stunning booty dress. It was so high and so tight, the wearer could show "crack" from the bottom, NOT the top. Isn't that neat? So she didn't have plumber's crack, she had booty dress crack.
And let me tell you, the men were loving it.

After 4 drinks too many Because I am a mother, I felt it only right to go and remind them that she is someone's daughter and maybe her parents wouldn't want to see you men reaching up under her dress and patting her crack-showing bottom. But I didn't have to, because after it rode up even higher, arguably over her entire bottom, she must have felt the breeze, so she pulled it right back down where it belonged, just under the bottom of her bottom. With a teensy little bit of crack hanging out.

Finally, my 4th reason to thank you.

The TMT.  Oddly, this acronym is close to TNT - dynamite. The TMT is what I like to think of as Too Much Testosterone. But I imagine it can also be the TME - Too Much Estrogen.

And you guys haven't even coined this acronym yet! This one's all me. You are welcome. Just don't try to sue Abercrombie if they put it on a t-shirt - that's my job, K?

Anyway. Back to TMT. I really like how you, all of you, will fight with anyone, anytime, anywhere when alcohol, DTFs and Booty Dresses are in play. And I got to see this phenomenon you've created first hand on New Year's Eve!

And that was so nice, because we didn't go out on New Year's Eve to have fun with friends, dance and ring in the new year together. We actually did go out to see if we could re-create a Jersey Shore moment. And when so many of your proteges were on-location with us, our evening became a fait accompli.
All thanks to you. The DTF. The Booty Dress. And testosterone.

So thanks again for all you've done for popular culture. I CAN'T WAIT until my girls are old enough to learn from you first hand!

Signed,

The Literal Mom

How does this Mommy spell relief?

2012-01-09T06:00:00.000-08:00

P-A-X-I-L

Yeah, I said it. I have no shame, people...but, then, most of you already knew that.

Remember my post from a few weeks ago where I described hitting rock bottom once again?

Well, I clawed my way out of the darkness and it feels good. No, it feels better than good. It feels triumphant, it feels victorious, it feels amazing.

Winning? Most definitely.

For starters, I requested a different psychiatrist at my doctor's office. My former psychiatrist...she and I just never seemed to connect. I didn't feel like she really listened to me, as I would go in every 6 months to check in and she would literally sit glued to her computer the entire time, going through her checklist of things.

"Are you still taking the prescribed dosage?"
"Are you getting enough sleep?"
"Have there been any major changes in your life?"

I complained at one point that I didn't feel like the Wellbutrin was helping any longer and her answer was, "Well, then quit".

Uh, okay....

So I weaned myself off the Wellbutrin and went about my life.

But, within time, it became evident that I couldn't do it on my own. I walked around in a rage all the time, the littlest things would set me off, everyone around me walked on eggshells.

My coping skills were completely unhealthy and, at times, dangerous.

The new psychiatrist listened to me...he heard every word I said. And then he repeated back to me all my symptoms and then asked a series of questions.

"Would you say you spend most of your day feeling anxious and worried?"
"Would you consider yourself an obsessive and/or compulsive person?"
"Do you lose sleep because you feel like you can't shut your brain off?"
"Do you feel like you can't breathe or you feel trapped most of the time?"

As I fiddled anxiously with the zipper on my sweatshirt, I nodded my head vigorously as he asked each question.

Then he said, "I think your main issue isn't the depression. You seem like an extremely anxious person and when you're anxiety gets out of control, it leads to depression...this feeling of being trapped and then you panic. Am I right so far?"

I don't think I ever stopped nodding my head in agreement with everything he was saying.

"Your brain is constantly on, all the circuits going haywire...it never shuts off," he continued. "You probably crave calmness and that's why you clean your home compulsively and things feel chaotic when your home is disorganized, right?"

"I'll bet noise affects you, as well. And with 4 young children, I'm sure there are times where you want to just rip your hair out when the noise reaches a certain level," he smiled.

Finally, I felt like I could breathe. Someone truly understood how I was feeling. And he wasn't just anybody, he was someone who was in a position to help me.

And then he spent some time discussing various medications with me, giving me the option of choosing which one I felt would be the best fit based on side effects and whatnot.

Ultimately, I decided on a low dose of Paxil, with a scrip for Klonopin on an "as needed" basis. The Klonopin, he explained, would help with insomnia if I took it at bedtime or it could help me during the day should I feel overly anxious, rather than rely on an unhealthy and/or dangerous coping mechanism.

After a few days of taking the Klonopin at night and not liking the way it made me feel the next day, I stopped taking it and went solely with the Paxil.

And here's how I can tell it's been working...for the first time in years, I enjoyed spending time with my children during winter break.

I wasn't panicked every minute of the day, wondering how to entertain them. I didn't feel like a total failure if I wasn't overseeing every single activity.

We baked cookies together, we played board games for hours, we went on long bike rides, we took walks, we shopped, we watched movies, we played the Wii...we had a FABULOUS time.

Not only have my children noticed a huge difference but Tim has, as well.

Yesterday, he said, "You come down the stairs in the morning in a good mood. The way you're interacting with the kids is so different. You just seem able to handle everything so much better now."

You want to know the best part?

When I smile, I feel it. Truly feel it...from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet.

Finally, my soul feels joyous and peaceful.

Want to know how my first week of the new year is going??

2012-01-05T09:27:00.000-08:00

Well, 2012 is in full swing and let me tell you all how my first week of the new year is going so far...in numbers.

6 - the number of puke puddles I've had to clean up

1 - the number of children who were responsible for half of the puke

1 - the number of cats who were responsible for the other half

34 - the number of times I gagged and dry heaved as I cleaned up the puke

3 - the number of times I had to chase the cat away from eating its own puke

9 - the number of miles I've ridden my bike while the little twins rode their scooters alongside me

4 - the number of times I said, "Okay, let's cross the street but be sure to stay in the cross walk."

7 - the number of times I screamed, "Stay in the freakin' cross walk for God's sake! Do you want to get run over by a car?!"

2 - the number of times the little smart asses laughed and said, "Yeah, that would be cool"

5 - the number of times I warned the little twins about the uneven cracks in the sidewalk

5 - the number of times the little twins flew over the handle bars of their scooters every time they ran over the uneven cracks in the sidewalk

25 - the number of minutes one of them cried afterwards, even though I had already hugged him for...

3 - the number of minutes I comforted the crying child

2 - the number of annoying strangers who asked me if I knew that one of my kids was crying

8 - the number of times I threatened to never bring them on a bike ride with me ever again

0 - the number of times I'll probably follow through on that threat because I have no choice but to bring them along

3 - the number of dinners I made that my family truly enjoyed

1 - the number of dinners I made that my family truly hated

5 - the number of times I said "tough luck" to the family members who dared to complain out loud about the meal

2 - the number of pounds I've lost since my holiday eating frenzy

165.5 - the number of minutes I get complete peace and quiet while the kids are in school (even though one kid is home sick)

23 - the number of times I laughed at myself for thinking I might actually miss the kids once they were back in school again after winter break

How's your first week of the new year going??

How to talk to your children about the death of a pet...

2012-01-03T10:10:00.000-08:00

Our winter break got off to a fabulous start, with the kids and I super excited about all the fun adventures we were going to experience on our days off together.

Unfortunately, our plans came to a screeching halt with the sudden, unexpected death of our beloved cat, Ivy, on Christmas eve morning.

Granted, she was almost 12 years old but she appeared to be a happy and healthy cat. Due to the extremely cold weather, she had been staying indoors mostly for the last few weeks, enjoying being cuddled by the kids and spending time our family.

The evening before she died, the kids kissed her goodnight, as they always did. And when I went to sleep, she was snoring at the edge of the bed, perfectly content.

I heard her leave the room somewhere around 5:45 am and then I heard a loud hissing sound downstairs, as if maybe she found one of the kittens eating her food.

Shortly after, Tim came into the room and said, "Ivy just died."

He wasn't sure exactly what had happened but when he heard her hissing, he turned on the light just in time to see her fall over on the floor. Startled, he attempted to give her CPR but her death was quick and he was unable to do anything. All we could assume was that she must have had a heart attack.

After placing her body on a blanket and putting her near the garage door, we both went back to bed, though neither of us could sleep. We were heartbroken, having just lost a cherished member of our family. And heartsick, knowing we would have to tell the kids, especially on Christmas eve day of all days.

Neither Tim nor I had a clue how to talk to the kids about Ivy's death so I googled the topic but found nothing helpful.

So we just followed our hearts and prayed for guidance, as we informed our young children about the death of their loving pet, who had been part of our family for their entire lives.

Here's what we found was helpful for our family:

* Be honest but avoid using phrases like "she went to sleep" or "her body was tired". We didn't want the kids to be afraid to go to sleep and we certainly didn't want them to fear they might die when their bodies feel tired.

What we did tell them was that she had lived a long, happy life and it was her time to go. She had the best life that a cat could have, filled with joy and love.

And now, she was at Rainbow Bridge, with our bunnies who had died years ago and with Grandpa's dog, Winston. She wasn't lonely, sad or scared. Just happy and carefree.

* Let them express their emotions, however they see fit. They may burst into tears immediately, like Cole did, or they may look to one another to see how they should react, which is what the little twins did since they were unsure of how to react.

They may cry off and on over the next few days or they may not. The important thing is to allow them to express their emotions freely and comfort them.

Don't tell them to "get over it already" or to stop being a cry-baby. The only way to get over a loss is to go through the natural grieving process and everyone's way of handling their grief is different.

Respect your child's way of handling his/her grief.

* Give them the choice of seeing the pet one last time (if circumstances allow, of course). We couldn't decide if it would be more harmful for them to see Ivy to say goodbye or if they were better off just remembering her the way they saw her last. Ultimately, we decided to give them the option because we thought it would seem more "real and permanent" to them if they made the choice for themselves.

When they decided they did want to see her one last time, we prepared them by saying, "She won't look the way she did last night when you said goodnight to her. She'll be very still and she won't react to your touch. And her body may not feel warm when you touch her."

* Be prepared for them to talk about death and ask a lot of questions. And I mean, endless questions about heaven, God, death...the list goes on.

Be honest with your kids about what you believe happens to us after death. If you honestly don't know what you believe, it's okay to say "Honey, I don't really know." Just don't lie to them or sugarcoat it but do be gentle and explain it in child-friendly terms.

We told our kids that while Ivy's body was still here with us, her spirit left her body immediately and went to Rainbow Bridge. A person's and animal's spirit is what makes them...well, THEM.

* Be prepared for them to ask for another pet, almost immediately. They may or may not ask for a new pet but if your kids are anything like our kids, they may think going out and getting another pet who looks exactly like the lost pet will make them feel better and/or replace the lost pet.

We told our kids that there was no other animal in the world who would be exactly like Ivy, even if we were to find another cat who looked just like her. No one is replaceable.

And while it was true that getting a new pet might make them feel better, it would only be a temporary feeling. The best way for them to recover from their grief is to feel it and work through it.

* Tell friends and family it's okay to talk about the pet in front of the children. Our family members wanted to avoid talking about Ivy because they didn't want the kids to feel sad, especially on Christmas day.

But we told them we were encouraging the kids to talk openly about her...you can't sweep death under the carpet and we didn't want the kids to feel like they couldn't talk about it whenever they wished to.

* Plant a memorial stone or plaque somewhere in your yard so the kids have a special place to go when they feel sad or want to "visit" the pet. We chose to have Ivy cremated and have her ashes scattered in a field by our vet's office but one of her favorite places in the yard was under our peach tree. It was always a sure bet that that's where we'd find her when she was outdoors...under the peach tree, enjoying the shade and the cool dirt. When spring comes around, we plan to put a plaque under the tree with Ivy's picture on it, in her honor.

Our beloved Ivy, rest in peace
January 2000 - December 2011

The highlights of 2011....

2011-12-27T10:47:00.000-08:00

January 2011:

The year got off to a great start when Ivy, one of our cats, "wrote" a guest post on why it sucks to be the family cat.

I shared ten of the things I've learned from my children and recalled why doing a photo shoot with 9 kids is nothing but an agonizing form of torture.

February 2011:

This month came in with a bang as I blasted the people at Disney for the mixed messages some of their movies send to overly inquisitive kids, like my daughter.

When Tim failed to buy me a personalized license plate, I came up with my own Helene'isms. And in another post, I talked about all the...well, interesting things you may hear coming out of our house if you were my neighbor.

I poured my heart out in a gut-wrenching post about betrayal and its ugly aftermath. In another emotional piece titled She is Ready But I am Not, I wrote about the experience of taking my only daughter to get her ears pierced.

March 2011:

March began with the silly realization that my kids would still love me even if I didn't bake them birthday cakes anymore...yeah, right. It was the end of a wanna-be cake artist who desperately wanted to be Supermom.

Another emotionally draining post as I poured my heart out about something that is a daily struggle for me.

Then, of course, there was the confession about the time I laughed at my daughter as she cried watching a Justin Bieber video.

Cole and Bella shared their thoughts about family vacations.

April 2011:

With my birthday at the very beginning of this month, we celebrated by taking the kids on a road trip to Disneyland. Ever wonder what a 7-hour road trip is like with 4 young children? Read this post.

I shared some wisdom in a post titled How To Survive Spring Break With Your Kids and chatted about a very frustrating conversation I had with one of my kids.

And then there was the 28-second video that proves that motherhood is a thankless job.

May 2011:

This month began with a post titled Well, Who Died And Made Them Boss...as my kids waited for me to screw up so they could enlighten me with their wealth of knowledge.

I shared why my engagement ring is my favorite piece of jewelry and the crazy excuses my kids come up with to avoid bedtime.

I also poured my heart out again in a difficult piece about my battle with depression.

And May ended as the kids and I planted our summer garden...and I discussed why I have a love/hate relationship with gardening.

June 2011:

This month zoomed by with hardly any posts but definitely not one to miss, especially if you have a teenager who thinks it'd be super cool to get pregnant with twins, is the one where I show my twin belly pics.

In a post titled This One Time, At Band Camp, I wrote about my very first (awkward) kiss.

July 2011:

I started this month off with why it's never wise to sing "Leaving On A Jet Plane" to a 6-year old child before....uh, leaving on a jet plane.

In this Rockin' the Baby post, I shared my favorite pics of the kids from when they were younger. And in an attempt to make myself feel better about my mothering skills, I discussed the 10 reasons why I'll never be Mother of the Year.

I poured my heart out when I feared my marriage was permanently broken.

August 2011:

Summertime means it's time for our annual "same shit, different location" vacation to Lake Tahoe, where we encountered greedy geese, rabid chipmunks and wild bears.

In honor of mine and Tim's 9th wedding anniversary, I wrote a piece about what I wished someone had told me about marriage...dripping with humor and sarcasm, as always.

September 2011:

As the school year began once again, I wrote a post called They Said What?!, where I shared some of the hysterical things my kids have said.

Not much else exciting going on this month as I struggled to balance everything. Hey, maybe I should've written about that...

October 2011:

Remember back in March when I swore I would never bake another birthday cake for my kids ever again...well, I lied. Read this post to see what creation I came up with for Cole and Bella's birthday.

After melting off 35 pounds, I shared the REAL secret to losing weight. I also poured my heart out about a time where I made an extremely stupid decision which put my safety in serious jeopardy (a good read for those of you who know a teenage girl who will soon be driving).

I wrote about what went down at the pumpkin patch this year, as I struggled to get a semi-decent picture of all 4 kids for our Christmas cards.

And, finally, our kitchen remodel was complete!!

November 2011:

My heart broke as I wrote about how badly words can hurt, after I yelled at one of my kids instead of following my gut and taking a breather.

And then there was the trespassing incident, where I tried to convince my straight-laced daughter to bend the rules a little.

On one of the days where the kids were driving me crazy, I ended up embarrassing my husband...One of the Reasons Why Husbands Should Never Work From Home.

December 2011:

December was more of a serious month for me, as the gray clouds loomed and the depression hit once again.

I reflected on why it's so important for me to create happy childhood memories for my kids, even if it killed me and that exact moment when I feared we had made a huge mistake during one of our IVF cycles due to the desperation of infertility.

Lastly, I wrote a gut-wrenching post about what's hidden behind the smile, where I shared graphic details of the thoughts that go through my brain when I hit rock bottom.

And that, my friends, concludes the highlights from 2011.

It's been a wonderful year...full of humor, good times, and some not-so-good times.

I'm looking forward to what's in store in 2012!

Wishing you all a very happy (and safe) New Year!

Interview with the Experts: The 2011 Christmas Edition

2011-12-23T04:30:00.000-08:00

Let's see what the experts, Cole and Bella, have to say about Christmas, from a kid's point of view.

What does Santa look like?
Cole: He has a white beard, his hat looks like an elf hat but it's red. He has peach-colored skin. And he has big black shoes and a red button shirt and red pants.
Bella: He has peach skin. A jolly nose. His belly is big like a bowl of jello and it jiggles when he says "ho, ho, ho".

Where does Santa live?
Cole: At the North Pole with Mrs. Claus and the elves. He has no kids but maybe the elves are his kids. It's still a mystery.
Bella: Hmmm, at the North Pole. He lives with reindeer, elves and Mrs. Claus and Mr. Claus.

What is Santa doing right this very minute?
Bella: He and his elves are packing up for Christmas because it's 3 or 4 more days away.
Cole: I don't know. But I do care. Why the heck would I NOT care about Santa? That would be mean and hurt his feelings. And I'm not like that.

How does he keep track of what you want for Christmas?
Cole: Santa sends his elves to everyone's house and the elves spy on us. Then they go back and tell Santa.
Bella: He watches us on the motion detector in the corner of your living room. When the light is red, it means an elf has spotted you being bad. Except me. I'm not bad. I wonder if the elves can hear us when we fart?

How does Santa get to every single house in one night?
Cole: That's a good question but I don't know. I think his elves must help him or his sled is really fast so it can get around the world.
Bella: Maybe his elves help him.

Is the Grinch real?
Cole: Um, nooooo.
Bella: Nooooooo
Me: How do you know?
Bella: Because there's no such thing as green skin. So there you go. Plus, I think the Grinch is supposed to be a monster and there's no such thing as monsters. Or vampires.

Do most families have a special dinner on Christmas day?
Bella: That's a good question. Probably they have special dinners.
Cole: That's a good question but I don't know. We'll most likely have pot roast even though I don't know what that is.
Bella: Is it a cockroach?
Me: No, a pot roast.
Cole: It's a roast that roasts stuff. I hope we have mashed potatoes cuz those are the bomb.

Does Santa bring gifts for parents?
Cole: Um, sometimes, if the parents are good.
Bella: It depends on if the parents has been good or bad. Like you said you want peace and quiet. I heard you tell Santa that.
Me: Yeah, do you think Santa will bring me peace and quiet?
Bella: I don't think so. But maybe he'll bring you a necklace.

Is it customary to leave food for Santa on Christmas eve?
Cole: Yes, it's the nice thing to do. Cookies, donuts and other kinds of junk food that you can think of. Oh, carrots for the reindeer.
Bella: Um, cookies and carrots but this year we're leaving real reindeer food.

How does Santa know if you're good or bad?
Bella: I already told you. Through the motion detector. The elves watch us and then they tell Santa. We each have an assigned elf. Mine's a girl who wears pink nail polish.
Cole: The elves watch you but it's not creepy or anything. Well, it's kind of creepy. Sometimes I lay awake at night and feel weird that they're watching me. Don't the elves ever sleep?

Have you ever been on the bad list?
Cole: Yes. Uh, no. Well, once. But I can't remember what it was for. Okay, wait. No, I've never been on the bad list.
Bella: Last year, I was on the good list but just barely. I'm on the good list now because I've been real good. Helpful and stuff. And I'm trying hard to read better.

Why do we celebrate Christmas?
Bella: I forget. Oh yeah, it's Jesus' birthday. We make him a birthday cake every year but he never comes over to eat it with us. Probably because he's dead.
Cole: To hang out with family and you celebrate Jesus being born. I'm glad Jesus was born because if he wasn't then we wouldn't be here. What would the world be like then?
Bella: How did God make the world if no one else was alive?
Me: Go ask Daddy. He went to private Catholic school.
Bella: Okay. Daddy.....

Feel free to ask your kids the same questions and share it on your blog!

Wishing you and your family a very happy holiday season!!

A Christmas Confession, courtesy of Brad from Papa Two Twin Girls

2011-12-21T04:30:00.000-08:00

If there's one thing that there is NOT enough of in the blogosphere, in my opinion, it's Daddy bloggers...or, better said, dads who blog. I love reading about parenting, marriage, and life in general through the eyes of the male gender, especially when he can tell a story like nobody's business, such as the blogger I'm about to introduce you to.

Meet Brad from Papa Two Twin Girls...not only is he the devoted father of beautiful twin girls, but he is also a loving husband (and hopefully very soon, a published author) with a wicked sense of humor and wit. If you haven't discovered his blog yet, you are missing out!

I know you'll enjoy reading his Christmas confession just as much as I did...

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For those of you that have followed Helene for any period of time, you already know if she follows your blog she FOLLOWS your blog.  Her comments and posts always have the same feel - they're real and sincere. She says what she thinks and means what she says - at least that's my interpretation.

A few weeks ago, I ~~bugged the hell out of her~~ asked her how she had so many followers in such a short time frame. She had some great advice, and even offered to let me guest blog if I wanted to.  True to form, she said what she thought, and meant it.

Thanks so much, Helene, for letting me share my own confession with your readers.

I would think it's safe to say that everyone who celebrates Christmas has Christmas memories. Some are good, some are bad, but all are memories. Thanks to This Daddy's Blog post for getting me thinking about the past and remembering what I am about to confess.

The jury is out on this one.

When I was young, I was sneaky. If you've read any of my vacation posts, you've probably realized this is not the confession. I need to build a little anticipation here, so I'll drag it out as long as I can.

Back in the day I was one of those kids that went hunting through the house to find my presents. I thought I knew all the hiding places my parents used. Actually, I did know most of them at one point.

I'm not sure if they got wise to my hunting skills, just started mixing it up on their own, or if they forgot where their hiding spots were, but at some point I stopped finding all of my presents early. This is probably because they started wrapping the gifts as soon as they got them, which leads me to believe they were onto me.

The only exception to this was the big gifts. Those I almost always found, until they started hiding them at other people's houses. Even at a young age I wasn't willing to risk a breaking and entering charge to find my presents, so they were off limits to me.

What is a mischievous kid supposed to do in that instance when all the fun of hunting is taken out of the holiday season?

Here's what I did - I found ways to be alone with the presents.

Sometimes I:

1 - faked an illness so I could stay home from school.
2 - played upstairs by the tree while the rest of the family was downstairs.
3 - came home early from a friend's house when I thought our house would be empty.
4 - grabbed a present and took it to the bathroom.
5 - grabbed a present, hid it in my room, and got up in the middle of the night to check it out.

Sounds like someone had to try to figure out what he was getting before Christmas morning, doesn't it?

I never tried to figure them out.

I simply unwrapped them, saw what I was getting, rewrapped them ever so carefully (being sure the paper that pulled off with the tape went back exactly where it came from), and put them back under the tree.

My work was much better than this. Amateur.

There's the confession. I'm sure my mom and dad are going to love finding this little nugget out like this!

Why would I open presents early? I have no idea.

Maybe I wanted to string out Christmas over the course of a few weeks instead of just one morning. Maybe I just had to know what I was getting so I could plan out my morning in advance. Maybe, just maybe, I did it because I wasn't supposed to.

I'd put all my money on that last choice if I were you.

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Please leave Brad some comment love and then visit his blog Papa Two Twin Girls to show your support for dads who blog! And be sure to follow him...you won't be disappointed!