The Frantic Ravings of a Mother

My Mother's Day: An Illustration

noreply@blogger.com (Miranda) — Mon, 14 May 2012 00:17:00 +0000

So, I was in my room counting my swag and I had an epiphany.

Carrying around all your money in your pockets can be so....cumbersome.

And I was all like, "WHY didn't I think of this earlier?!"

Uh huh. Where are you going with this?

I could BE a walking piggy bank!! Isn't it GENIUS?!

I've already tested it out though, it's basically patent pending.

So no dibs on the invention.

Wait. WHAT?!

RIGHT?! It's brilliant. My genius is greatly undervalued.

I kind of expected it to taste like bacon.

Cause it came out of my piggy bank you know?

Ugh....not so much.

So how do you expect to RETRIEVE the money?

EVERY plan is sure to have hiccups.

What do you propose???

Dude. You basically ate a Leprechaun.

Soooo......yeeaaaahhhhh.......

A LEPRECHAUN!! HAHAAAAAAAAA

aaahhhhhh.....

Oh.

THE END.......until the next BM.

I am Yao Ming...and also abnormal.

noreply@blogger.com (Miranda) — Thu, 12 Apr 2012 17:33:00 +0000

When I was younger I used to stare at myself in the mirror and make funny faces. Now that I'm older, nothing has changed.

This is Yao Ming.

Yao Ming

He is an NBA player. He is also a very popular meme.

Me.

Nailed it.

Kerosene for Coughs and Other Helpful Tips!

noreply@blogger.com (Miranda) — Sat, 07 Apr 2012 01:35:00 +0000

My coffee smells like propane. It also kind of tastes like something that should run through the engine of a V8. That's how I like it. Actually...that's how I have to drink my morning/afternoon pick-me-up. With three little vampires running around, I have to get my energy source where I can find it!

This slightly gaseous odor made me recall a conversation that I recently had with my Grandmother, Mamaw.

While the recent bacteria bonanza was going down at my house, I called Mamaw to complain about the lack of sleep due to the persistent cough that held all three boys in its evil clutches.

Mamaw began to think on all of the good ol' remedies that her mother used to during times of illness.

Mamaw--"You know, when we had a bad cough Mother used to give us....what's that stuff called?? Kerosene! She gave us one or two drops of that when we had a cough."

Me-- "What?! She gave you GAS?!"

Mamaw--"Noooo, kerosene. Not gasoline, it's not as flammable."

Me-- "Mamaw! Kerosene is used to LIGHT LANTERNS!! It's most definitely flammable."

Mamaw-- "I know that it's flammable, I meant that the amount she gave us wasn't enough to set us on fire."

I think I'll pass on the lantern lighting. The image of spontaneous combustion and of a scorched sofa just kept dancing itself through my head.

When I'm told of the home remedies that were enforced at that time, it makes me cringe. There must have been something extra in the old cigarettes back then. Kerosene?? Really?!

My father is from Thailand. Tiger Balm is the Asian remedy for every known affliction to mankind. You have a headache?? Put Tiger Balm on it. You broke your hip? Put Tiger Balm on it.

Whenever my Dad had a stomachache, he was to eat Tiger Balm. By the way...if you aren't Asian (and awesome) Vick's Vapo Rub with a dash of Icy Hot is the equivalent to Tiger Balm. Imagine having to stomach that!

While most of those old school methods are horrendous, there are some home remedies (even though a bit strange) that are known to work:

*Corn syrup for constipation. Whenever my kids were still on the bottle, two of them would go for days without a dirty diaper. I was told to administer 1-2 tsp. of corn syrup in their bottles. (Now I can't get them to STOP pooping. Irony)

*Onions for fever. Okay...so this one is quite strange. If a stubborn fever refuses to budge after a dose or two of medicine, take an onion and cut it in half. Using a tube sock (or tape) tie the onion half (flat side) against the bottoms of the child's feet. {You can also cut the onion up and stuff it into a large sock, and then put the sock on the child's feet.} Once the onions are brown or wilted, remove. Miraculously, the fever will drop. Baby may be stinky but better than the nuclear alternative.

*Homemade cough syrup. This one is from Mamaw, and it is a much better substitute for kerosene.

1 Tbs Whiskey, 1 Tbs Honey, 1/2 Tbs lemon juice

{If you're horrified about giving your child whiskey, just remember that most cough syrups contain alcohol.}

These may be unconventional, but they do work. Better yet, all of these are pantry staples! Well...maybe except for whiskey. It's a staple in my house. For cooking...ahem.

It's Education, Fool!

noreply@blogger.com (Miranda) — Thu, 05 Apr 2012 19:17:00 +0000

As I was lying in bed, struggling to breathe past my uncooperative sinuses, I began to contemplate the extent of my strangeness. I am in fact, a very particular person. Then I thought that I would share it with all 5 of you.

So...here are a few things that you may not know about me.

1. I am an extremely sensory sensitive person. Loud noises scare me and some sensations bring me to the verge of nauseousness. I start gagging if I try to file my nails, or if I even hear someone getting their nails filed. Just thinking of it breaks me out in a sweat. If there are crumbs in my bed..... FOR. GET. IT.

2. I am a full time nina, part time assassin.

3. Whenever I'm counting in my head, I click my teeth together. {e.g.,1 (click), 2 (click)...and so on.)

4. I just started a brand new food blog!

5. I picked up the habit of conversing through song lyrics years ago when I worked in retail (my dear friend Audrey and I only made it through the day by doing this....we still do it by the way, NERDS RULE!) and it has stuck ever since.

For example:

Elias: "Why do you have to drink so much coffee everyday?"

Me: "Because Son. Everyday I'm shufflin."

-OR-

Elias: "Mom! I can't hear the TV when you vacuum!!"

Me: "You see me rollin!! Why you hatin?!"

6. I take 3 creams and 8 sugars in my coffee. (Yes. I am aware of the strong possibility that I may have dia-beetis.)

7. I am married to a liar. He claims to be a Country Boy. However, he doesn't like turnip greens, collard greens, squash, sweet potatoes, pecan pie OR pumpkin pie. So WHAT country is he from?! Communist!!!

8. When I'm forced to wear socks (sensory sensitive remember?) I never wear a matching pair.

9. I'm made up of two components. Awesome and Amazing. I'm also so gangster that one ethnicity couldn't contain all of this.

10. I prepare punchlines ahead of time.

11. I Stir Fry Noodles!!!

So. Now you know all about me. Now go to my new blog and tell me how much you love me!!

A week. In pictures.

noreply@blogger.com (Miranda) — Wed, 04 Apr 2012 21:15:00 +0000

Here is how April Fools went down at my place:

Oh yes. I did.

He's quite the scholar!

And then....

THE PLAGUE

Why so forlorn??

BECAUSE OF THIS!!!!

Ferocious cuteness!!!!

And then...

HE HIT ME!!!

THIS IS SPARTA!!!!!!

noreply@blogger.com (Miranda) — Tue, 03 Apr 2012 14:35:00 +0000

I've been busting my flat Asian butt lately. Why?? Swimsuit season definitely has something to do with it (also....I'm not gonna lie. I aspire to be Stacey's Mom) AND I'll be taking part in The Warrior Dash. This 5k is a riddled with grueling obstacles that include army crawling under barbed wire, scaling 20 ft inclines, leaping over ditches of fire and wading through trenches of mud.

Am I insane?? I think I pretty much cleared that in my last post!

I think I'm doing this to reward myself. To prove that I do in fact have tiger blood coursing through my veins.

And also, because I want to stomp Gigantor's face into the muddy ground.

He had the audacity to tell me that there was no way that I would win.

"I don't even work out, and I'm still going to beat you."

Oh. Really? There is something you should know about me. I am a very competitive person. Yes, I do realize that Gigantor exceeds my height by a foot. Yes, he has this diabolical metabolism that allows him to eat 3 large pizzas and gain nary an ounce. Yes, his stride is equivalent to about 4 of my own steps.....and YES, he will be probably be able to vault that 20 ft. wall like an olympian.

But.... HE. SHALL. NOT. WIN.

Before you scoff at my ability to beat him...this is the high intensity workout that I do.

Let me first clarify....this is NOT a dirty video!!

This website offers FREE workouts. They're not for the faint of heart, and they will most definitely make you sweat. Categorized as a HIIT (high intensity interval training) workout, the sessions are focused mainly on high intensity cardio and resistance training. If you don't have the equipment shown in the videos, don't sweat it (HA!). You can always improvise, and the lovely lady Lisa will show you how.

They use something called a sand bag instead of free weights. I use my Chef bag (that holds all of my utensils) and buy bags of rice to fill it. You could also use a duffel bag.

I've seen results in a week. But I've also busted my arse off in that week. If you're looking for a workout to shape you and strengthen you, then this is definitely the one. You can do it in your living room!!

Anyway....now that I'm one cup of Cuban coffee down, I'm PUMPED.

It's over for The Giant. He's got NOTHING on this Spartan!!! I'm going all out Rocky Balboa style!!

Maybe I'll don my shades and hoodie, head over to the high school and run bleachers.

Then again....I'm sure that resembling the unibomber may get me clotheslined.

A Post: By Debbie Downer

noreply@blogger.com (Miranda) — Sat, 31 Mar 2012 15:03:00 +0000

The majority of my posts are geared toward the more humorous side of mothering. Taking the advice from a dear friend, this post will be raw, honest and heartfelt. Simply put: I just don't feel like laughing.

I am tired. Exhausted really. For the last five days my house has been a chorus of coughing and crying. Spring arrived with a swift punch to the face and in its wake are three feverishly irritable children.

For over a year I've been dealing with spurts of happiness mostly encompassed by anxiety and overwhelming frustration. Much of that unhappiness was due to our previous location, and since moving I've experienced less stress. However, there are times when I feel so completely overwhelmed by the needs of my children/husband/household that a furnace ignites within my stomach, and I fear implosion is but a short distance away.

My mood swings are so plentiful and close between that Gigantor probably contemplated dumping me in the Glades and leaving me for the alligators. I considered my hormones as the culprit. We all know that children destroy everything in their paths.....I assumed that they left my body AND hormones in ruins.

I spoke to the doctor last week about my loss of sanity and memory (you make think that memory loss isn't that great of a deal. In ONE day: I lost my debit card and ID; left the rental car keys in the back of a car that we test drove; went through a drive-thru, grabbed the food and left without paying; left my sneakers in the rental van and then remembered several days after we returned the vehicle--of course when I went to reclaim them, the van had already been rented out again!)

So, my hormone levels came back normal. I was incredibly frustrated by this (surprised?) and felt a moment of hopelessness. If my insanity isn't due to my hormones, then WHAT is happening to me???

Note: I do understand that three little boys could be to blame for most of my madness. Trust me. I know that most of this is child induced. Who WOULDN'T be overwhelmed with having to clean poo out of the carpet every day.

I can't remember what it feels like to NOT be overwhelmed/anxious/frustrated all of the time. I can't remember a time when I was carefree and walked with a spring in my step (without stepping in poo first). I'm not asking for a tampon commercial here, I'm just asking for relief.

By nature I am not a confrontational person. I feel that society wants us to be abrasive, to dominate, to cause a scene....I just don't agree. Being meek isn't the same as being weak.

Lately.......

Little tendrils of anger have been seeping out of my once peaceful demeanor.

e.g., This past weekend we took the boys camping. As we were setting up our tent, a woman walked by with her very small dog. Having forgotten to leash our rather large dog Stray, she of course ran straight for the woman and her rat-dog. Stray is completely friendly, rather clumsy and fortunately (in every case but this) vicious looking. I tried to assure the lady that Stray wouldn't harm her or her rat-dog. She didn't listen. The lady did the worst thing possible...panicked and snatched the rat-dog up into her arms. Sooo....Stray jumped up to try and smell the dog...and maybe gave it a couple of barks or two.

The lady looked terrified, and this angered me. After all, I did tell her that Stray was harmless.

Lady: "GET YOUR DOG! GET YOUR DOG!!!"

Me: " I told you that she won't hurt you. Seriously?! If you do that, of COURSE she's going to jump up at you!!"

That may not seem like such a terrible thing, but as I previously stated, I'm not confrontational. Normally that comment would have never crossed my lips. Normally I would apologize profusely while offering sheepish smiles. I wouldn't normally be outraged by her reaction.

Now of course, I can rationalize the situation. If I saw a bear running full tilt at one of my children, I would most definitely panic...no matter if there were a bear tamer shouting at me to remain calm and that I wasn't about to be eaten.

My moods haven't been directed at strangers only, but also by people that I feel close to. My feelings about some of my relationships are also being affected. This is exhausting. I feel frustrated because of some of my friendships and then I feel frustrated for allowing myself to feel frustrated. Stupid vicious cycle!!!!

**I have to take a moment and give a huge thanks to a woman who is close to my heart. She has helped me out sooo much in these last few crazy months. She is a mother of four young children and understands what it is like to be hulk/banshee crazy. She gives me much advice on tackling the obstacles of motherhood and she reassures me when I'm feeling down about anything and everything. I love you Katie dear!**

So you see....in a nutshell, I am crazy.

I am a very emotional person. When I'm happy, I'm HAPPY. When I laugh, I snort. When I'm angry, I'm the hulk.

Right now....I'm tired. Tired of So. Much. Emotion.

I want to be the girl in the tampon commercial. Bounding weightlessly across the sandy beach. Actually..I'll just take the beach. And a mojito. And a book. And a babysitter.

-sigh-

I feel much better. If you stopped reading a long time ago due to a sudden depression brought on by my senseless ramblings, I do apologize.

I promise to fill your life with "glad that didn't happen to me" laughter. Very soon.

(Debbie)

The peeing sleepwalker attacks again!

noreply@blogger.com (Miranda) — Wed, 14 Mar 2012 23:21:00 +0000

This morning my bathroom smelled like a bar urinal. After spraying a hefty dose of Febreze, I searched around the toilet for any "spills" because boys will be boys after all.

Nothing.

Last night I stumbled onto a rather large puddle right in front of the bathroom sink. At first I figured that the boys had spilled their cups of water, so I threw a towel on it and went back to bed.

Unfortunately this morning, I found that the soiled towel was the source of the frat boy odor.

Thing 1 has been sleep~~walking~~ peeing again, and I don't know what to do about it!!

Much of this drowsy phenomena has been happening in our household lately. A couple of nights ago while sleeping in my room, Thing 2 leapt up and ran to the bedroom door. Completely asleep, he tried (hilariously unsuccessfully) to exit the room. When I asked him where he was going, he mumbled something about "trains". After assuring him that we would find the trains in the morning, he went back to bed.

I Googled what to do in a sleepwalking event. It wasn't very helpful!!

Gently prodding him awake is out of the question! I feel that disrupting the stream would only lead to an enormous mess!! I think that I would rather have it concentrated in one area.

For instance...(as some of you already know) several months ago, I was sitting at my computer desk giving in to my Pinterest smack habit. I heard Thing 1 rousing out of his sleep. Without pausing to look (because we all know how difficult it is to escape the clutches of the white devil Pinterest) I told him to go potty and then return to bed. I didn't want to have to clean up a wet bed later that night (the irony is NOT lost on me).

And then.....warmth...spreading down my side and my leg. The little turd was SLEEP PEEING ON ME!!!

So you see why this must end?!

I am not a human urinal!!!!

Hey...speaking of urinals...I thought that this was pretty odd.....

But seriously...I need help. Genuine help...not the straight jacket syringe kind.

Little Perv....

noreply@blogger.com (Miranda) — Wed, 29 Feb 2012 02:53:00 +0000

With all of the pranking aside.....we decided to go for an outing this past weekend. Taking advantage of our current home in the good ol' retirement state, we took the boys to Downtown Disney.

Here are Thing 1 and Thing 2 with a Lego Buzz Lightyear

It's a fun spot with many restaurants, popular scenes from Disney movies that are composed entirely of Legos, and super expensive Disney paraphernalia.

Because Downtown Disney isn't the actual theme park, there are no fun rides like It's a Small World. Because we ALL know how much fun THAT is. If you have no idea what I'm talking about...then Google "Disney's It's a Small World theme song. I'm pretty sure that I just lost a couple of readers.

However, they do have a carousel and a small train. My kids immediately hopped in line for the train. They're obsessed.

Because I was too busy staring at this cute face......

.....I wasn't paying too much attention to what was going on in the line.

Until I noticed the little boy behind Thing 2. He was wearing a Count Chocula Letterman jacket.....and a monkey leash. He was also lunging at Thing 2. I found this completely hilarious. If you're going to have your kid on a leash...they may as well look rabid.

After the train ride (all 2 minutes of it) we journeyed to the toy store. Thing 1 got a firetruck for his upcoming birthday, and Thing 2 made off with a Toy Story Woody doll. The kind cashier bagged the items separately so that each child could carry his own toy.

On the way back to our car, Thing 2 made sure that he stopped to tell EVERY PERSON about his new toy as he thrust the bag in their faces.

"I GOT A WOODY!! HEY! I GOT A WOODY!!!"

--Snicker--

Only a 2 y/o could get away with that one......

What goes around.....

noreply@blogger.com (Miranda) — Mon, 27 Feb 2012 17:09:00 +0000

It has been another side-clutch week here in my household. One mostly filled with pranks of all sorts.

Let me just say that I FULLY believe that whatever is done to your mother/wife will come back to repay you in kind. So Mom, I'm REALLY REALLY sorry for all the chaos that I put YOU through. Now, accept my apology so that I can stop reaping the painful reward that MY children are now giving to me.

Keep that in mind......

A few weeks ago, Gigantor thought it would be HILARIOUS to hide in the stairwell and leap out when I least suspected it. So clever of him.

I realized in that moment that I'm incapable of defending myself in a sheer moment of panic. And also.....I scream really loudly and girl like. I'm really embarrassed about that last part. I always envisioned myself as a Spartan if ever faced with a life threatening situation.

Because Gigantor has nerves of adamantium (if you got that part, then HOORAY for nerds!) it is impossible to frighten or startle him. So, I had to get back at him the only way I know how.....technology.

Several months ago I downloaded the Cracked Screen App onto his phone. I pretended to "drop" his phone. Every time he shook the phone it would appear as if cracked or pixelated. For three days he kept restarting his phone every time the blundered screen popped up. He never would have figured it out. I finally broke down and told him.

The other day I set his ringtones to "Wanna be" by The Spice Girls, and "It's raining men". This may not seem like a great prank....but the timing was impeccable.

Fortunately (for ME) I called him during a meeting and while surrounded by his employees, his phone promptly started screaming about the glory of precipitating men. I was told that he lost major points on the "respect your boss" meter.

To get me back: he covered my phone in Disney stickers. Getting stickers off of your phone is NO easy task.

Remember what I said earlier about "harmful deeds done to your wife/mother" and blah blah blah?? I didn't even have to devise a mischievous act.

The God of humor took care of that for me......

Gigantor works at a trucking company. In the "yard" where all of the trucks are kept, there is a gigantic outdoor car (truck?) wash. Apparently, my cost efficient husband heard the motor running in the truck wash and wanted to make sure that it was completely shut down before the company closed on the weekend.

Confident that the truck wash was weight activated, he strolled right up and prepared to turn it off.

What he didn't know, is that the truck wash has a motion sensor and will activate when passed.

He immediately heard the whirring of the engines when suddenly, sudsy jets shot out and soaked his legs. Hopping back and forth, he tried to escape the bubbled barrage and tripped the next senor......which dowsed him with a vertical shot of H2O. Frantic with the need to escape, he was pummeled with jets of water until he finally retreated back the way he came. Because the wash isn't enclosed (like the kind you see at the gas station), he was STILL getting soaked while trying to unlock the car door and climb inside.

Words cannot express.

I only wish I could have had a front row set. This is better than the Super Bowl. This is even better than wanting to be a judge on Iron Chef. I would have sold an organ to witness this.

I can only hope that my children will one day learn the lesson that I drill into them every day.

It doesn't matter what you do.

I. ALWAYS. WIN.

Until next time!!

Milestones Are For The Birds!

noreply@blogger.com (Miranda) — Fri, 24 Feb 2012 03:43:00 +0000

As you've noticed, my posts have been very few as of late. Since Number 3 has become very mobile, I find it difficult to complete any task. Especially a sentence. Ask my friends....it must be horrible to try and carry on a conversation with me.

It seems as if Number 3 is a delightful mixture of both Thing 1 and 2. Not only is he destructive, but he is also methodical AND unbearably cute. This combination renders me incapable of any form of punishment.

Today he was throwing himself off of our couch in what I assume to be the need of satisfying an adrenaline craving. The ~~strange behavior~~ unique quality of my children will never cease to amaze me.

He also has horrible form of amusement that he created just for me. The Banshee Shriek of Horror. I believe that children feed off of fear, and in the case of MY children....they have the ability to sense what disturbs you the most. Then they spend every waking moment trying to create new and fun phobias for me to deal with. I realllllllly don't like loud noises (the irony here is hilarious) so Number 3 likes to punch me in the eardrum at every inconvenient opportunity.

Like when I'm in public.

We made an impromptu trip to Target to escape the confines of our walls.....as if leaving a stress zone with three young children wouldn't create more stress.

After depositing a very angry Thing 2 into the cart and pulling Thing 1 out of the clothes rack, Number 3 let loose an Earth shattering roar. My eyes watered and I clamped my hands over my ears. Shortly afterward, a Target employee came up to me and in a very kind voice said, "You look really stressed out."

Really? This Potato Head must have left her crazy eyes in that morning. Or is this how I always look? The expression of alarm on the young woman's face was enough to let me know that she probably didn't have children...or definitely not The Children of the Corn.

So if my posts are few and far between, or if my writing is erratic and I start to babble....then please forgive me. I'm trying to reclaim my memory and the ability to process and store information. I have so many stories, and I can't wait to put them all down.......if only I could remember them.....

Oh! Before I forget. Thing 2 FINALLY started to use the potty again after many bouts of regression. I was THRILLED.....

....until he decided to stick his head in the toilet before he flushed.

We're BAAAAAAAAAACK!!

noreply@blogger.com (Miranda) — Thu, 09 Feb 2012 05:46:00 +0000

Hi friends!

Well....it has been a REALLY long time. I would apologize for the delay, but I have children.

I have SO much to tell you, but I'll make this post short.

With that said...not only am I awesome for FINALLY writing, but I've done it VIA video. No....not a VLOG. I've taken it one step above and beyond. I've made you a movie!!! Not the dirty kind. Shhh...i know how disappointed you are.

Without further delay.....here it is! You're welcome!

First Day of School and I'm the Most Popular Mom There!

noreply@blogger.com (Miranda) — Tue, 23 Aug 2011 02:57:00 +0000

Today has been an adventure. Sadly...not like the amazing adventures portrayed in most 80's movies that included falling down a hidden tunnel and skimming along a faux water slide to find some mysterious treasure.

My adventure began when I got Thing 1 up for breakfast before his VERY FIRST day of school! After I plopped a bowl of cereal down in front of him, I scurried around and tried to get the other ~~kids and husband~~ children ready to see Thing 1 off.

Somehow between throwing clothes on the baby and removing Thing 2's entire body from one pants leg, I managed to rub a flake of chili pepper into my right eye. Not just any chili. A THAI chili pepper.

You know how "they" (they....being mysterious scientists who are paid to perform mindless studies such as identifying that men react with pleasure to the smell of sulfur...which, incidentally makes up the majority of their own flatulence. True story.) say that water is the worst thing to drink when you're eating spicy foods? Well good ol' H20 is the worst thing to splash onto a fiery eyeball at 7:30 am when you're being assaulted by a flake of Thai chili pepper.

I considered plucking it out to save myself the trouble.

Once the burn subsided and the family was dressed, we headed to the school. Upon arrival I realized that I forget Thing 1's medical records for the schools files. Another point for me.

We deposited our nervous little boy into his classroom, where he stood with clasped hands. I would have cried with two eyes if the tear ducts had not have melted in the one. He looked so lost in the multitude of children. I wanted to reach back in and snatch him back up. I wanted to turn back the clock and press rewind on the memories. Much to my delight and immense sadness, my little boy is taking the first step to his own life.

"This really stinks," I thought to myself.

No, really.

Gigantor said, "What's that smell?"

After passing Number 3 on to him, I looked down and realized that Number 3's diaper had exploded on my hip. I was now covered in poo and became a smelly force that parted an entire hall full of people.

Thing 2 screamed all the way home. He was NOT happy that he couldn't participate in anything fun. I took him to Super Target and bought him a gigantic chocolate cookie to alleviate his tantrum.

When we arrived home I was greeted by a crawling/crying Number 3. I picked him up, placed him on my hip and began to unload the groceries.

Sniff. Sniff. Search.

-SIGH-

Once again he waited until I picked him up, and then chose that glorious moment to relieve himself.

What made the day awesome was my Grandmother's response to all of the action.

"Looks like you had a crappy day."

HA! Indeed.

Another Reminder of Why I'm The Greatest Mom Alive

noreply@blogger.com (Miranda) — Wed, 10 Aug 2011 03:22:00 +0000

I do apologize whole-heartedly for my absence. Between building my website for my budding business, designing business cards, reassuring Thing 1 that an uncircumcised penis is NOT a penis that has imploded and diligently searching the internet to see if the Thomas the Tank Engine Whistle that is made in China is safe for consumption (because Thing 2 licked the paint off), I have had little time to write.

Just so you know, my Cakery is up and running!! You can check out my website HERE. I have already posted most of the pictures up on this site, but I do have a few recipes that I came up with over the last week. Please give me feedback. I don't mind honesty. I'm married to Gigantor. He's brutally honest (i.e.; "Honey, I can cut this gravy with a knife!").

Unless you're in the Orlando, FL area, I'm sorry to say that you will not be able to taste my wonderful pieces of art...yet. I'm about to start the shipping process and I PROMISE that I will let you know! As of now, you'll have to accept my 0 calorie pictures.

Since I'm short on time, sleep and personal hygiene, I'll leave you with a short story that will make you chuckle....and probably send one or two of my children into therapy at an early age.

Bath time in my house is much like a factory, in that it requires an assembly line. After removing the children from the tub, I began the process of drying, application of lotion and diaper and/or pajamas.

While wrestling Number 3 into a diaper, Thing 2 started crying because of an injury he received from a tussle with our dog. I sat Number 3 between my legs and pulled Thing 2 over to investigate the large scratch on his face.

Apparently, my dog was lying on her back and kicking her legs up into the air. Thing 2 though this a perfect opportunity to "tame the beast". Well, he got kicked in the face for his trouble.

As I examined his scratch (I was afraid that it went into his mouth....and that is a very tender area for him), he kept ducking his head down while saying, "Ow!"

I reassured him that I wasn't going to probe the inside of his mouth (I have been known to poke bruises), I tried once more to get him to hold his head still and open his mouth. Once again, he ducked his down and said, "OW!"

I finally grabbed his head in a vice grip and told him Not. To. Move. He couldn't move, but he said, "OWWW!!" This time with more feeling.

I finally looked down.......and (poor guy).....Number 3 had been tugging on his penis the whole time.

Once again, I'm reminded that I am the most awesome mother in the universe.

Another Mother of the Year Moment. Brought To You By: Yours Truly

noreply@blogger.com (Miranda) — Thu, 28 Jul 2011 01:47:00 +0000

I know. I know. It's been awhile. I've been quite busy lately, and am now finding time to do mindless things like type up a post, shower and shave my legs. In that order.

I just dropped my Grandmother off at the airport (tear) and now I'm failing (miserably, might I add) to adjust to the old routine of feeding children, doing laundry and having conversations with myself.

Here is what you missed!

I got my very first cake order!!

One day later: I got my very first cake order cancellation!!

Since then, I've been baking in a mad frenzy. Possibly to salvage my dignity. I crafted a few recipes for cupcakes and have practiced at the art of cake pops.

Here are my AWESOME Key Lime Cupcakes. Notice the graham cracker crust. AH-MAZING! Yes....that is me tooting my own horn.

Speaking of "toot". Here are my Fruity Tooti Cupcakes. Also composed of awesome.These pink pretties are my Chocolate Pinnacle Whipped cupcakes.

With a massive amount of time spent baking, it is quite easy to leave children to their own destructive devices.

My Grandmother and I were busy in the kitchen when Thing 2 came up and demanded my attention.

He poked me in the side and said in a sweet voice, "B you." It's his version of "excuse me".

He then proceeded to chatter in his 2 y/o language and requested my presence in his bedroom. After brushing him off and telling him to return to his imaginative stories, I continued on with my quest of sugar perfection.

Five minutes later.

"B you, Mama." More chatter in what I assumed was another request for me to follow him. I figured that he was bugging me for another cupcake, as his high was probably wearing off....so I sent him back to playing.

2 minutes later.

"B YOU, MAMA!!"

And then I heard Thing 1's feeble cry for help. Uh oh.

Bless Thing 2 for his persistence. He was only trying to help his big brother. This is what I found.

I felt more guilty than the time I downed a pint of ice cream while on my "diet".

After extracting Thing 1 from this unfortunate and most definitely uncomfortable position, I returned to baking.

Cupcake pops!

Pretty flower cake pops!

Needless to say....Thing 1 and Thing 2 got a generous helping of sugar that day.....if only to salvage the guilt of the Mom of the Year!

Another Day Another Baller

noreply@blogger.com (Miranda) — Wed, 13 Jul 2011 03:01:00 +0000

If you haven't been kicking it with me over the past few weeks, then I'll catch you up....we're still in the process of moving in to our new place. Although we have no furniture, we're doing it all rustic like.

Because we have no table, we placed our computer on our kitchen/ dining room/ living room bar so we could watch movies. Once the boys go to bed, the Giant usually pushes our mattress into the living room/ dining room so we can watch a movie that doesn't involve finding a fish, talking cars, or accident prone trains.

As Gigantor was moving our air mattress from our room to the living room, he got the bed slightly stuck in the door. I moved to help him, but at that unfortunate moment he gave a little extra shove, got past the frame and collided with my face/ torso/ entire frontal region. It looked kind of like this.....

You know what made the situation even more awesome? He didn't even realize it at first. I got up as quickly as I could because I knew that I would never live it down. Unfortunately, I didn't recover quick enough and he caught me as I was struggling to get to my feet. Yes, he laughed. Really hard.

Don't worry. I have more.

This is my dog, Stray. Not only is she the most sweet spirited dog (unless you're a man or a stranger...and if you happen to be a strange man then a sports cup may be necessary) that you'll ever meet, but she also has a lot of hair. A LOT of hair.

We now have carpet and she's shedding at such a rate that I'm almost compelled to purchase a loom.

This is the impression that Thing 1 presented to me.....

"Hey Mama, Its a me Mario."

Oh yeah...I received an extra special present today.

The possessions that I haven't seen in over a year!

A Small Confession and A Chronicle of Struggles

noreply@blogger.com (Miranda) — Sun, 10 Jul 2011 23:38:00 +0000

Growing up, I was a bean pole of a girl. I was dubbed 'Olive Oil', 'Sticks', and 'Chicken Legs'. When I hit puberty, I was the only one of my friends who didn't develop breasts. I was then labeled as 'Flat Chested' and forced into the 'Itty Bitty Titty Committee'. High school was hell. I spent every morning prepping myself into "perfection" and constantly analyzed my imperfections.

I was an angry teenaged girl and shortly after graduating high school I spiraled into a dark deepness of boys, drugs and depression. In an attempt to control the chaos that I myself was creating, I started to starve myself. The power that I derived from being able to survive on minimal calories was intoxicating. This was the one area in my life that I could control...but it was also the most dangerous drug.

Unlike "bad habits", addictions don't die hard. They don't die at all. They huddle in the recesses of your mind. They lie waiting, ready for the perfect moment to rear their ugly heads and strike at you in your weakest moment.

I have fought with body image issues my entire life. It never goes away. It is an everyday battle. Every bite of food that I take, is in itself a victory but also a defeat.

I have recently started to reclaim my health by working out regularly and eating healthy. I feel much better than I have in a very long time. I no longer feel sluggish or weighed down by meals.....and I have more energy than a mother of three boys should ever be able to claim. Can I say truthfully that it's all about the health? No. I will say with all honesty that I would love to have that "perfect body". But I won't. I have ~~stretch marks~~ battle scars from preparing my three miracles to arrive into this world. I have cellulite. My breasts are no longer glorious due to nursing.

I can't say that I will always look in the mirror and be happy. But I will smile. In my darkest hour, I was Delivered. Grace was poured upon me, and now I am the product of prayer.

A very dear friend of mine, Kate Wicker recently published her very first book- Weightless: Making Peace With Your Body.

I am full of excitement and anticipation about the contents that I have yet to read. It is a book about her struggles with her own body image. Even if you haven't had to deal with an eating disorder, but HAVE dealt with body image issues (and who isn't it todays society? Thank you Victoria's Secret) then this book is definitely for you. I implore you to take a gander and let her know what you think. She will touch your life. I know this, because she has most definitely touched mine.

You can purchase her book on Amazon from the link that I provided above. You can also GET PERSONAL WITH HER ON HER BLOG.

Dear Kate,

You are beautiful. You are an amazing mother, a dedicated wife and the most wonderful kind of person. You are Christlike and you are greatly loved. I commend you for sharing your stories with the world. You have faced and fought your demons on a daily basis and you have overcome great obstacles that have claimed so many. I am incredibly proud of you and am honored to call you my friend.

With love and prayers,

This Kid Will Drive Me To Drink: Vol. 4

noreply@blogger.com (Miranda) — Sat, 09 Jul 2011 00:45:00 +0000

I've decided to embrace my skinny side once again....and embracing it with chubby arms, I am! Of course, if I have to eat healthily then everyone has to. Because everyone knows that if Mommy ~~is happy~~ suffers, then everyone ~~is happy~~ suffers.

Along with my junk food detox I've added high impact cardio and some strength training. If the cardio wasn't enough to get my heart rate up, then Thing 2 made sure to volunteer for a moment of heart palpitations.

Upon moving into our new home, we purchased a heavy duty baby gate to bar our stairs and were positive that Thing 2 couldn't scale it, knock it down, or chew through the bars. Alas, that gate didn't fit....and of course the only gate that would fit was the flimsy ten dollar pressure mounted baby gate.

"Well, if we even see Thing 2 glancing at the gate with a mischievous glimmer in his eye, then we're going to have to take it back and find a better one," I said. Famous last words.

So there I was....in the middle of a back kick during my kickboxing cardio, when I heard it.

CRASH! Thump.

Screaming....and tumbling down the stairs.

I made it to the top of the stairs to see him roll down the remaining quarter of stairs. Somehow I made it down, but I don't quite remember that part. I was just there. By the Grace of God, Thing 2 had nothing to show for it, except for a bite on the tongue. I however, managed to get my heart rate to the proper level in about .57 seconds.

One thing that you have to know about Thing 2, is that he is an over-achiever.

As I was mopping our floor from his latest piece of artwork (Black crayon cyclone with a modern twist drawn in a delicate frenzy all over my kitchen floor), I heard the all too familiar screams erupt from the bedroom.

Apparently, Thing 2 tried to climb the wire shelves in the closet...but didn't make it very far before his arch nemesis (gravity) yanked him back down again.

One exhausting day deserves an evening to top it off.

After bathing the boys and depositing Number 3 into his crib, I walked into the bathroom to find Thing 2 going pee-pee in the potty for the very first time! YAY!

Well.....he was trying. Thing 2 was trying to force himself to pee with a series of mashing and squeezing his poor boyhood. That has GOT to hurt, I thought. Once he started to go pee-pee, he immediately got a grip with both hands. This motion caused to urine to go upward. I started screaming.

And it was going everywhere.

"NO! Let go! You don't have to hold it!!"

I guess that he thought I meant for him to step away from the potty. So he did. And he was still peeing. Then he turned to face me. And he was still peeing.

-Sigh-

He was so proud of himself that I couldn't rain on his parade....even though he most definitely rained on mine.

Robot Cake Pops

noreply@blogger.com (Miranda) — Wed, 06 Jul 2011 14:37:00 +0000

During our vacation, Thing 2 celebrated his 2nd birthday. Let the terrible 2's commence (although it is in my opinion that 3's are MUCH worse). For his party I decided to 86 the cake and made a few creations of my own. Here are a few photos of my Cake Pop creations. This is the first time that I've tried to make them. The process was incredibly frustrating the first time around. I'm sure that with some experimenting, I'll get it down. Hope you like them!

The arms are made from Twizzlers and the base is a Gummi LifeSaver.

The eyes are cake confetti sprinkles and the chest plate is gum paste.

The mouth was drawn on with a cake decorating marker.

I'm excited to see what else I can create. I know that with Cake Pops, the options are limitless. Please, let me know what you think!

Don't forget to click on the Top Mommy Blogs button on the upper righthand side of my page! It takes 1.5 seconds! DO IT!

A New Toy and One Unruly Boy

noreply@blogger.com (Miranda) — Tue, 05 Jul 2011 21:37:00 +0000

I am still elated over our recent move and our new home. My children are also excited. Very excited. So happy in fact, that I'm sure my downstairs neighbor believes us to be a herd of pachyderms.

And of course, the more that I shush them the louder they become. Thing 2 is especially defiant....and he's trying to spread my patience as thinly as possible. As it turns out, my patience is pretty flexible.

So far this week, Thing 2 has played in dog poo on the playground (a big thanks to my unknown neighbors for allowing their dog to poo ON the playground, instead of taking them to the designated potty area), thrown all of my neatly folded laundry onto the floor, and shoved ANOTHER piece of styrofoam up his nose.

To alleviate my stress levels, The Giant bought me a new vacuum cleaner. I know that it's strange, but I actually enjoy vacuuming. Stop laughing, it's true. Gigantor ruined my last vacuum by sucking up one of the boys t-shirts into the rollers. Fifteen minutes and a hazy room later, he finally realized that something was wrong. Apparently the aroma of a burning rubber belt didn't tip him off.

After purchasing my brand new Dyson DC33, I informed him that he was NOT allowed to touch it. Upon returning from a potty break (in the proper designated area might I add) with Stray, I walked in to find Gigantor had already broken my cardinal rule. Two seconds after my gasp of horror, came the heinous sound of a sock being sucked up into the vacuum. Thankfully, Mr. James Dyson knows what he's doing and my vacuum cleaner survived.

Our furniture has yet to arrive, so we've been kicking it in lawn chairs and on air mattresses. Here is a photo of our makeshift living room/dining room/ kitchen area.

I awoke yesterday morning to find that Gigantor had fallen asleep on the living room floor. The movers better get here fast. There is noooo way that I'm picking his extended body off of the floor. Have YOU ever tried to lift a giant?

An Extended Hiatus, A New Beginning, and A Panic Attack

noreply@blogger.com (Miranda) — Sat, 02 Jul 2011 02:22:00 +0000

The last several weeks have been filled with frustration, elation and more fast food than a sensible person should force their body to digest. Boring details aside, Gigantor was awarded for his slave labor with a much deserved promotion. My prayers were answered (thank Ya JEEEESUS) and we are FINALLY out of the Miami International Airport.

After staying in Georgia with Gigantor's family for two weeks while he trained, celebrating Thing 2's second birthday, and dropping more money than I'm comfortable with on a refurbished time bomb of a van, we made our way back to Miami, packed up our meager belongings and headed to the city of our new home.....with no place to live.

Traveling is fun. Traveling with three children, even better.

After hearing my name no less than 562 times in the span of three and a half hours, (and that was less than a third of our trip) the screams of accusations and pleas for help started to fall on deaf ears. That is, until I noticed that Thing 2's cries were increasing in volume and desperation.

It was then that I finally listened to what he was trying to tell me, "Mama, HEP ME! HEP ME!"

I finally turned around with an angry retort readied on my tongue, when I noticed that his right eye was glued completely shut......with a gummy bear. This isn't the first time that those clever gummies have gotten the best of Thing 2. Once, he strolled into my bedroom one morning with sleepy eyes and a gummy vitamin completely matted into his hair. That resulted in a slightly irritated semi-bald spot.

While awaiting our approval for the apartment, we were kickin it in ~~hell~~ a hotel for two days. Having spent 6 months of the last year in a hotel, I was not at all thrilled to do it again. However, beds are beds.....and sometimes beds are accident creating apparatuses. Especially when they're occupied with an 8 month old baby.

When The Giant left for work, I decided to unload the ~~sputtering, oil leaking, ticking time bomb from hell~~ van. Feeling assured that Number 3 could not be greatly harmed amongst a myriad of soft pillows and cushy comforters (he hasn't mastered the art of crawling yet), I left the hotel door open and began to unload the van. Of course, two seconds later I heard the muffled crying of Number 3, as he had rolled off of the bed. Because he was surrounded by so many pillows, a comfy cushion actually made it down before he did and softened his blow. The blow to my ego.....not so soft.

If only I would learn. Not 15 minutes later, I left him in the middle of the bed so that I could take a potty break. Run to bathroom. Sit down. Pee. Sigh. THUMP. Baby screaming. "Damn". That's right. Not once, but TWICE. Poor guy got a lump on his forehead, and carpet burn on his nose.

Mother of the YEAR.

After staying in the hotel for two days, we were finally able to move into our new place. I must say, that I'm completely thrilled. God has been so good to us. Even throughout my whining and doubting, He's still faithful....even when I'm not.

This apartment has EVERYTHING that I could ask for. The living room is gigantic, and the kitchen is beautiful. Our bedroom is spacious and has a nook for our desk. There is also this small device that resembles a nurses "call" button in the master bedroom. It is attached to the wall with a long cord.

What can I say? I'm a curious person.

With all of the updates of our fancy new apartment, I figured that it was part of the surround sound.

"Hey Honey, what does this do?" Click. Sirens. Screaming. Someone call Harold Camping because the apocalypse was NOW upon us and I had started it!

Before I depressed the doomsday device, I was plopping Number 3 onto a pillow (I wisely chose the floor this time) so that I could pop a bottle into this mouth. Immediately after pressing the aforementioned button, the bottle went flying across the room and I shot up faster than I thought was possible. Number 3 probably sustained some sort of whiplash from my rapid ascension.

I somehow managed to throw myself down the staircase without receiving a splintered femur or a broken ankle, and tried in vain to punch in an unknown code to silence the alarm.

Apparently my children thought that I had abandoned them to the banshee,

Thing 2 stood at the top of the stairs, white knuckled from clutching the railing while screaming, "HEP ME! HEP ME! HEP ME!!!!!!"

Thing 1 was running around like a chicken with no head, and Number 3 was mad that I had thrown his bottle to where he couldn't retrieve it.

At that glorious moment, Gigantor ran into the apartment and asked me which of the boys pressed the panic button.

When I didn't answer, he realized that I had done the George Jetson....and I did what I always do at the worst moments possible. I laughed. Really hard.

Waiting for the alarm to turn off were the loudest minutes of my life.

I fully believe that whoever coined the name "panic button" did so by pure accident. Because that was the immediate emotion that was created.....and it sounds much better than the "I just pooped myself" button.

Hey! You see that button on the right hand side of my screen? Top Mommy Blogs? It says click on it. I happen to know that you're not clicking on it. You should definitely click on it. Why? Because my children don't give me enough validation. I need yours too. Click on it. Make me feel good!!!

A Preview....Stay Tuned For More To Come

noreply@blogger.com (Miranda) — Wed, 29 Jun 2011 14:46:00 +0000

Soooo...just in case you were wondering, I have been on an extended vacation. The past two weeks have been spent traveling. We stayed in Georgia with Gigantor's family while he trained for his newly appointed promotion (YAY!). Every other moment of "vacation" was spent in a car. With three kids. Around 30 hours of travel time. With three kids. Here is a glimpse of our vacation relaxation.

Thing 1 is so cute, he makes me want to vomit a rainbow

Thing 2 is all tuckered out

An oxymoron perhaps?

The cruel and unusual punishment of Number 3.

A Letter To My 17 Year Old Self

noreply@blogger.com (Miranda) — Fri, 10 Jun 2011 18:30:00 +0000

Dearest Teenage-Self,

Firstly, lose the attitude. It's not all about you. I get it, okay? Some things didn't turn out the way that you wanted them to. Stop dwelling on the "could haves", suck it up and can the malevolence. Stop reacting to the kindness of others with a dramatic display of anger. Those people love you. They do everything for you. They deserve respect. So shut it.

Stop worrying incessantly about your freaking boob size. Yes, your body structure may resemble that of a young boy, but I guarantee you that your present body will look remarkably better than your future body. Also, you know how everyone keeps telling you that its because of your impressive metabolism that you can eat a chocolate cake in its entirety without gaining an ounce, and that your impressive metabolism will someday come skidding to an abrupt and painful halt? They. Aren't. Lying.

Stop dating that guy. He's a jerk, a compulsive liar and he's been cheating on you. A LOT. Don't even date the next guy. And don't even THINK about dating the guy after that. In fact, you should just stop dating. Period. Get your lazy arse out of bed and go to school. You will wish that you applied yourself more. Trust.

Remember the tattoo you got last year? It's ugly....and so is the next one that you're about to get. And that belly ring that you flaunt in your awesomely toned abdominal muscles? BIG MISTAKE! Take note of this next year when you decide to get two more piercings to add to the fray.

When your Papa asks you to come outside in the cool night air, and he asks you to listen to the sound of an airplane that is soaring a couple of thousand feet over your head somewhere, do it without rolling your eyes. Go, and listen to him describe the type of engine that sits within the plane. Give him your undivided attention. Ask him about his childhood. Ask him about his time in the military. Ask him about the time he spent in the Asian countries. Be sure to give him a hug, hold him tightly and tell him that you love him, over and over again. You cannot possibly fathom how much you're going to miss him.

You should probably stop speeding. You're five speeding tickets away from a suspended license.

One more thing. Remember how you always say that you're NEVER going to get married, and you're NEVER going to have kids? Well.........

MIRandom MOMents...

noreply@blogger.com (Miranda) — Fri, 10 Jun 2011 13:15:00 +0000

When my children aren't torturing me, I like to torture my children. It's a vicious cycle. Here's proof.

Number 3

Stop Kicking Yourself!!

I wonder what he's thinking is about...

A Mental Mommy's Musings About Miami

noreply@blogger.com (Miranda) — Thu, 09 Jun 2011 21:30:00 +0000

Since my family and myself will be departing Miami in a very short time (stay tuned), I have been reflecting on our time spent here, and what I've learned since.

NOT having an A/C in the minivan, with three children, in the middle of summer and a traffic jam, is in fact a slow and painful death

Beach trips are FUN! Geographically speaking, Miami is located between Southern Florida and the surface of the sun. If you happen to schedule your beach day between the hours of sunrise to sunset, then you are guaranteed to fry.

As cliché as it may seem, EVERYONE wears a thong to the beach. The view of the ocean is mostly interrupted by a throng of thongs (yes, I've been waiting all day for a chance to use that). Whether they're young, fit and perfect (and obviously NOT mothers), or they're older, still ridiculously fit and have a skin tone that would evoke envy from the Jersey Shore cast. No matter the roadmap of memories that they may carry on their face, or the fact that they joined the AARP a distant 20 years ago. You aren't IN if you aren't flossing.

Also on the list of fun things to wear to the beach: velour sweatsuits. In the name of everything Holy, WHY?!

I LOVE the women of Miami. They. Are. Ballsy. Thanks to the unrealistic demands of our society, ladies all across the nation are obsessed with their weight in an unhealthy manner. Not here. They flaunt it. Who cares if she should be doing the Truffle Shuffle instead of the Salsa? I'm still trying to unravel the mystery of how she poured herself into those pants.

Cuban pastries are AMAZING. Cuban coffee is AMAZING.

Despite the plethora of cultures in Miami, everyone speaks the same language in traffic. Sign language.

South Floridians are deprived of Zaxby's, Sonic, Hardee's and.....soul food. The horror.