Mommy's Juice!: 2013   

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Happy Hump Day!!
...and rest assured, because its all down hill from here. In a good way! Welcome Back to a Mid Week Link up where you can link up everything you got, including your giveaways. Make sure they go on the right linkies below.
 EVERYONE WHO LINKS UP WILL HAVE A CHANCE TO BE SPOTLIGHTED AND GET FOLLOWS ON MOHTH HOSTED GIVEAWAYS!
How does it work? 
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But Most of All, have a Happy Hump Day!

Once again Our Spotlight This Week Is: Andrea from

Mommy's Juice

Wednesday, December 4, 2013

My Little Loverboy


And so it begins.... I got my first call from the principal's office last week! Since Jackson has been in kindergarten for three months, the only surprise I had when I got the message was that it hadn't come sooner. Especially considering a week prior he came home with a scratch clear across his face from his first "fight on the playground." Apparently this one took place out of the eyes of his teachers and finished before any real blood poured so all was well.

It's only understandable that as I dialed the number to call the principal back I was expecting to hear about another brawl. Also understandable should be the total shock I incurred as she explained to me that Jackson had just left her office where he had been sent for, "KISSING ANOTHER GIRL..... ON THE LIPS...... DURING MATH CLASS."

Nope, didn't see that one coming at all! I must say, I wasn't quite sure how to respond. I couldn't lie and say, "oh, we never allow kissing," or "this is the first time I've ever seen him kiss." It was just last summer he had his first kiss with another little girl and I thought it was the cutest thing I had ever seen! But... he's in kindergarten now and apparently kissing is no longer cute. 

Still, I couldn't help but chuckle as I explained what had happened to my husband. He on the other hand didn't find any humor in the story. "Are you going to think it's funny when he's knocking girls up at 16?," he says. Well that's a bit harsh!

Upon further investigation into the "kissing" incident we discovered that the girl he kissed was the same girl that just a week earlier Jackson had come home saying he hated. When I asked him why he hated her he said, "because she always tries to kiss me." My husband laughed and said, "ahhh, you must mean Sophia. She tried to kiss him when I dropped Jackson off the other day," he says to me. Then to Jackson, "you're crazy Jackson, she's a little hottie." Mmmmmhmmmmm.... Well at least now we know who will be changing all of his grandchild's diapers while Jackson is finishing high school. 

Thursday, November 14, 2013

Ahhh...The Smell of Pee!

It's back! After a few years of leaving the Febreze bottle untouched we have returned to a house that smells like the classiest back alley in New York City. Potty training adventure #2 is in full swing and let me tell you this is something I had not missed at all! Seriously, couldn't God just potty train children before they are born? Kind of like when you go to an animal shelter to pick out a new pet with the confidence that the lovely employees or former owners have already gone through the nightmare of carrying a puppy across their living room carpet out the front door with a stream of pee leading the entire way.

But this time I'm on a mission! If I can get Trey completely potty trained by the end of the year they will let me sign him up for ski lessons in January. I can't begin to tell you how much easier this will make my life. His older brother started ski lessons last year and I spent quite a few Saturday mornings dropping him off at the mountain only to have to drag a screaming, kicking, furious little brother back to our car.  If I have to sit the kid on the sidelines for another year there is no telling what could happen! Seriously, look at this kid, doesn't he look ready for the slopes to you:


So we're off! And friends, don't be surprised if you don't get an invitation over for dinner anytime soon. From a laundry room full off soaking wet undies and pants, to a bathroom that seems to have been peed on in every single nook & cranny EXCEPT the toilet, this place reeks!

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

I Did It! Well I Sort of Did It....


Some of you may remember a very ambitious post I placed last year called "You Can't Run a Marathon" in which I announced the "marathon" I would be running this October. Well, I am happy to report back to you today that the marathon took place on Sunday and I DID IT!!!

Actually I didn't do the "marathon" itself, or the half marathon, or the relay marathon that I had committed to in the last post. But I did run! Just not very far. But I did get a medal! Just not the really cool one that the good runners got. But I did celebrate! Probably a little more than I deserved too.

After attempts last spring and early this summer to train for the upcoming event in which I was committing to seven miles I realized three things:
1. With two kids there isn't a lot of time to run long distances.
2. I don't actually enjoy running.
3. There was no f*#king way I was going to make it seven miles.

Luckily, before having to completely back out on my team the marathon organizers made an announcement that they would be adding on a "mini-marathon," at just 3.7 miles (a little over a 5k). THIS I CAN DO! I put the tennis shoes back on and off I went to make history (in my own mind).

The race was Sunday and I am happy to report that I did run the entire 3. 7 miles and actually had a BLAST! Over 15,000 people participated and the entire vibe was fantastic. As was the celebration beer I treated myself to afterwards.

But I think the best part of the entire day was when I called the family to let them know I survived. Jackson, my 5 year old hopped on the phone and very excitedly asked, "Mommy, did you win your race?" I replied yes, because let's face it, just crossing the finish line was winning for me, and heard him scream to the rest of the household, "Mommy did it, Mommy ran the race!!" I sure did baby! 

Thursday, October 3, 2013

Whatever Will I Do Today?

Have you ever woken up on a Saturday morning at say, oh 6:30am, to the sound of your children screaming at the top of their lungs, "MOMMMMMMYYYYYYY!!!" And after hearing that name that you have been given, the name that you likely hear around 9,999 times per day, you immediately grab the closest pillow and pull it over your head. Now as you lay half suffocating, in a place where the yells sound like whispers, "mommmyyyyyy," you remember a time when you didn't have to get up at 6:30am on a weekend morning. A time when 10am seemed like the appropriate hour to get out of bed. A time when after getting out of bed at 10am you didn't have to immediately run into your kitchen and start making breakfast for two tummies that are "SOOOOO HUNGRY!" No, you could get out of bed, make a cup of coffee, lay back down on the couch and think to yourself, "whatever will I do today?"

It's a pleasurable form of torture that I practice often on the weekend's. Taking just a few minutes to myself before answering to the calls of those hungry tummies to think, "what if I didn't have kids, whatever would I do today." Last week I made plans to go on a hike after my coffee to enjoy the fall colors. Not a 20 minute "kids" hike, but a real hike, spending hours alone in the peaceful wilderness. After hiking I'd meet a girlfriend for lunch, not lunch at McDonalds but at a real restaurant, somewhere that we can split a bottle of champagne while we leisurely gossip and laugh. Then I'd head back home where the hubby and I would spend the afternoon lying on the couch watching football, maybe even taking a little nap. Later we'd get all spruced up to join friends out for cocktails, or maybe even a party. Staying out late won't matter, we's have nothing to do the next morning.

"MOMMMMYYYYY," I hear, bringing me back to reality, "we are SOOOOOOO HUNGRY!!!" And so I leave my fantasty land and start the day that is destined to look a little more like this:
Feed the kids
Play soccer with the kids
Build the kids a fort
Break-up a fight b/t the kids on who is the king of the fort
Feed the kids again
Break-up a fight b/t the kids on whose sandwich is bigger
Take the kids to the park
Feed the kids again
Beg the kids to nap
Realize the kids aren't going to nap
Take the kids on a bike ride
Search all over the house for a bandaid for the kid that fell off their bike
Pretend to be a monster for the kids
Break-up a fight b/t the kids on who the monster should eat first
Read to the kids
Wash the kids
Feed the kids again
Argue with the kids over bedtime
Let the kids watch tv
Read to the kids
Beg the kids to sleep
Listen to the kids playing in their beds
Scream at the kids
Hear silence from the kids room
Realize I actually have a second to myself which I spend falling straight to sleep
Wake up, do it all over again.

Have a great weekend moms!

Thursday, September 5, 2013

First Day of Kindergarten

It finally arrived, Jackson's first day of kindergarten and a new one child only daycare bill in the mail (woo-hoo)! Kindergarten started on Tuesday and what a day it was. Such a mix of emotions, for both Jackson and myself. Happiness, sadness, nervousness, pride, joy, fear, you name it (and yes, I did leave him that morning with tears in my eyes). I probably took enough photos to fill up an entire album, but there was one in particular that I wanted to share because to me this photo totally sums up that mix of emotions in a way that my writing never could.


I'll add, we are on day 3 now and both Mommy & Jackson LOVE KINDERGARTEN!! No more tears, no more nervousness, just proud parents and an extremely happy kiddo.

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Celebrity Buzz


Growing up, whenever I was asked the inevitable question, "what do you want to be when you grow up," my answer was always the same: "FAMOUS!" Mind you, I had no idea exactly how I was going to be famous, I just knew that is what I wanted to be. I carried that dream with me up until the last possible moment, when I had to chose a college major. I could't sing or play an instrument, so music was out. Aside from a few Church plays I had no acting experience so theater was out. After embarrassing myself multiple times on my High School debate team, politics was out. With a love of late night visits to Taco Bell modeling was out. And with a current event knowledge that peaked at who had dumped who on last weeks episode of Beverly Hills 90210, reporting was out. Hence, one Recreation Management degree later, my dream of being famous had faded.

Driving into work this morning I tuned into "Celebrity Buzz" on the radio and laughed as they made fun of Justin Bieber for spitting at fans over his balcony followed by tales of Miley Cyrus posting nude pics of herself on Twitter. What is wrong with these people? And what, I began to wonder, would have become of me if I followed that dream to Hollywood? Would I be the crazy girl shaving all my hair off and running into the ocean with just my thong? Would I be throwing bongs out of my hotel window with a head of purple hair? Or would I be the responsible one, donating millions to charity and adopting children from Africa (oh wait, Angelina was married to Billy Bob Thornton before the kiddos and we all know what they were doing in the limo, she had her day too!).

I guess the pressure of fame is just more than most people can handle. I mean really, who wants to be adored by millions, have enough money in the bank to buy a small island, find yourself on the cover of magazines spray painted so you don't have a single flaw on your body? Sounds terrible doesn't it? Of course you'll want to punch your boyfriend in the face with pressure like that on you. 

So in hindsight, I guess the fact that I don't have an Emmy, Oscar, Grammy or even Golden Globe on my mantel is a good thing. I'm sure I wouldn't have been able to handle to stressful life that is fame. Although, it would be nice to have an excuse not to wear underwear for a change! 

Friday, July 26, 2013

Help, I'm Out of Baby Waffles


Time out is a bitch, just when I need it most too! I admit, I'm not the most fantastic disciplinarian on the planet. And yes, my boys may take advantage of that fact sometimes. But I do discipline, and time out I thought was a winner. When Jackson was younger I could put him in his room, lock the door, and wait for however long it took him to stop the tantrum in progress. Job well done! Recently though Jackson has discovered how to unlock the door from the inside, leaving me standing on the other side holding it shut as he pulls with all his might on the other side. Not exactly the most fun.

So as we work on new time-out solutions for Jackson, we move on to Trey. At two years old his tantrums are really a special treat. Like just this morning when I made him mini-pancakes for breakfast which he took one look at and began screaming and crying at the top of his lungs, "I wanted baby waffles!!!!!" I'm no Paula Deen but I'm pretty damn sure baby pancakes and baby waffles covered in syrup the way this child requests taste EXACTLY THE SAME! And yet, his tantrum went to a level that led me to deliver him to his crib for a time-out. The crib is a life saver, I can leave him in as long as need too knowing he is safe, and save my own sanity if only for a few minutes. Until today that is.... Trey can now get out of his crib on his own. Something I learned when the screaming demon was back at my feet two minutes after time-out began. Shocked to see him standing there I realized, yet another time-out down the drain.

What next? Do I have my husband extend the crib frame to the ceiling? Do I install padlocks on their doors? Do I invest in chains? Whatever the solution, I'll need it soon, I'm out of baby waffles.

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

I Love Looking Like a Jackass

I do it quite frequently. I think when you are the mother of two young boys you really don't have much of a choice but to look like a jackass often. What sucks is when you have to do it in front of people that you actually know. Or in this instance, are related too.

The family packed up and headed to Laramie, Wyoming last weekend for my husband's family reunion. For those of us not from Laramie a hotel room block was set up at the 5-star AmericInn (ok, maybe its only 2 stars, or 1.5...) where it turned out Travis and I were the only two lodgers with kids. All the other family members were either smart enough to leave their kids at home or old enough to just sit back and be entertained by our devils.

Entertaining they were! Running through the halls banging on doors, piling up their plates at the free breakfast buffet with enough food to feed a college fraternity house, dancing in their bathing suits from the hotel room to the pool, stealing cookies from the front desk, kicking the crap out of each other while fighting over the phone playing a movie. You get the point.

But the most entertaining portion of the weekend came on our final morning as we were getting ready for the family reunion picnic. I left my kids with Travis at the breakfast buffet while I ran up to take a shower. With a wet head, wearing my pajama's I heard a knock on the door and answered it to find Jackson and Trey. They were bored with breakfast and wanted to take the dog for a walk (yes, I made the trip even more torturous by bringing Boone along). I told them to wait on their dad only to hear the door shut behind me and realize Jackson had marched back out on his own. Out I go to reprimand him for not listening when I realize the door has shut behind me and I have no key. Trey also realizes this and begins screaming at the top of his lungs from the other side of the door. Followed by Boone barking at full volume alongside him.

Did I mention our room was on a balcony looking directly over the lobby? The same lobby where Travis' entire family sat looking up at me with a wet head, pj's, one kid running away from me and another locked in our room with a barking dog? They all had a front row seat to see me dash down the stairs, scream at the front desk for a new key, dash back up and rescue the family. In other words, looking like a jackass... AGAIN!

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

I Don't Want to Forget This

I started this blog for a majority of reasons but most importantly to:

A. Make people laugh (including myself!)
B. Tell the story of having a child with gastroschisis for other parents going through the same experience
C. Have a place where my special memories are stored because my memory is TOTAL CRAP

So today I hope you'll humor me as I make an attempt reflect on my life with a five and two year old and jot down only a handful of these special moments that I don't want to disappear from my alcohol damaged brain (thanks a lot college):

BFF's


- My children actually like to hold my hand. Okay, so one of them does. Jackson will hold my hand at every single opportunity given to him. He's my mamma's boy. The one that cuddles, that climbs in bed and snuggles as close to me as possible, that will randomly rub my back or scratch my arm then give me the biggest smile in the world when I notice what he's doing. Trey on the other hand.... the less physical contact the better. He's Mister "Independent 2-Year Old Who Honestly Believes He's Four"! He needs no help with anything. Last month Trey got the flu and was throwing up for three days. It was the first time in his short life that he didn't want me to leave his side. He would only sleep in my bed, only allow me to hold him, and cried "Mommy I want you," multiple times a day. I'd be a liar if I said I didn't enjoy every minute of it. Well, every minute minus the multiple projectile vomiting onto Mommy's lap incidents.

- The boys actually like each other. We are at such a fun stage right now where they have started to play with each other for hours at a time, without even realizing I'm in the room. Just last week they were in the bath together and I caught Jackson look over at Trey with the near amazement and say, "Trey, you are my best friend because you're my little brother." As I wiped a tear from my eye I cherished this moment, knowing that any day now they'll be beating the shit out of each other.

- My children are kind. Well, at moments. Like last week when we went out for pizza and Jackson insisted on playing one of those terrible games that cost a dollar for a chance to win a prize (otherwise known as a piece of junk). After a near breakdown in public I gave in and handed over four quarters with the stipulation that Jackson would only have one turn. Sure enough, one turn and he wins a ginormous pack of Smarties with a huge smile on his face. As we walked away from the money trap another young girl went up to take a try and lost immediately. After dinner Jackson continued to bug me for another dollar and chance at the game. When he had finally wore me down to the point of ordering another glass of wine for myself, I gave in and handed him what I SWORE would be the last four quarters. Again he played, again a winner. This time of a giant bag of disgusting Runts (the chewy ones, had they been the hard ones I'd replace disgusting with delicious). Walking back to our table after the big win Jackson stopped at the little girls table who had lost earlier and handed her the bag of candy. I'm not sure if I have ever been prouder of that young boy in my life! I'm storing this one for the day his 3rd grade teacher calls to tell me he's mooning all the girls in his class.

Monday, June 17, 2013

Never Trust a Psychic


Better yet, never visit one! If you do, I can promise you the visit will haunt you the rest of your life. I of course know this because in 1996 I spent five minutes with a complete stranger who somehow led to my sneaking out of the office the other day to pick up a pregnancy test, run to the hallway bathroom, pee on a stick, then sit there for five minutes certain I was about to see two lines appear.

In college a girlfriend and I rode way back into the Appalachian Mountains to visit the local psychic. For just $10 she would grant you three questions and word of mouth was she was pretty good at it. A junior in college at the time I was in a place where I had no idea what the future held. So I kept my questions general, looking for just a small glimpse into my wide open future.

Amazingly, I can't remember what I had for dinner last Thursday, but I can remember almost verbatim what she told me that day:

1. What will I chose as a career?
Her answer: You will start down a road in your career and quickly change directions. This change in direction will start the career you will continue for the rest of your life.
The result: Immediately after college I started working in the hospitality business, specifically in catering. Eleven years ago I moved into PR/Marketing position and haven't left since.
So far, so good!

2. How many children will I have?
Her answer: Two boys and a girl.
The result: Two boys down and a girl to go! Well at least that is what I still believe thanks to that day. Although my husband and I have no plans to add another child I am still convinced there is no birth control on the planet that will stop this from happening. Hence why I am hiding pregnancy test boxes in the bottom of the office trash can! Which by the way, was negative.
So far, I'm two/thirds of the way there!

3. When will I fall in love?
Her answer: You will fall in love three times in your life. The third will be your soul mate.
The result: Every single time my husband makes me angry I think to myself, "you're only number two buddy!"
So far, I haven't dumped him yet, but he better watch himself!

Do yourself a favor, save your $10. This is a torturous way to live!

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

No I Don't Sing in the Shower....

Seriously I don't! Only crazy people sing in showers. Or maybe super happy people, but I'm rarely super happy at 7am in the morning while trying to rush a shower before the kids finish breakfast and start to strangle each other.

I do however sing in my car when I'm alone. This is my super happy time. My time to myself. No kids in the back screaming for windows down, no husband sitting beside me bitching that I bought the cheap eggs. Just the radio blaring and me singing like Carrie Underwood. 


Okay, so maybe more like Elmo than Carrie. But who cares, I'm the only one who can hear me. Until summer that is. A few days ago I found myself pulling up to a stoplight with the windows down right at a VERY crucial moment in a Zac Brown Band song. So of course as I slow to a stop I have to hit my near yelling belt of the chorus, only to release I was stopping beside a car of teenage boys with their windows down who got the laugh of their life at my solo. 

To say I was embarrassed would be a great understatement. I thought about rolling my window up but that would only make me look more silly. Instead I laughed with them. Hell, it was hilarious! But I also learned a lesson, either roll the window up before stopping or do my very best to try and keep my inner rock star at bay until back into the 50 mile per hour zone.

Cool, new policies, all is good. Or so I thought until this morning. It was cool enough to where I had my windows up. Prime time for Mrs. Underwood to reveal herself. And today not only was she a fantastic singer, but man could she dance. It was during my stoplight shoulder shimmy shake that I look over to see one of the dad's from daycare just staring down at me from his giant truck, no doubt thinking, "her poor husband." Again I smiled and waved and laughed at myself. What else can a rock star do? 

Friday, May 10, 2013

Sweet Dreams


I think my favorite sound in the world is to hear my son laughing in his sleep. I get to hear this often since at 4-years old Jackson still seems to find his way into Mommy & Daddy's room at some terrible hour nearly every night. When I hear the laugh I lay and wonder, what in the world is he dreaming about? Is he dreaming of playing with friends, hearing the dog fart (that one always gets him going when he's awake), eating a worm, pulling a trick on his little brother? What could be so funny??

I'll often ask him once he's awake if he can remember his dreams, only to be given a long drawn out tale of something he is obviously making up on the spot. I know this because these stories always include whatever items in the room that he is looking at any given point.

Then I'll start to wonder if I ever laugh out loud during my dreams. Which leads me into the process of trying to remember my dreams. Which further leads me into an analysis of whether or not I might need a psychiatrist! Where in the world do these dreams come from? Should I be scared?

Don't get me wrong, my dreams are harmless. Some of the recurring themes include walking long distances, realizing I am failing my college classes and forgetting someones birthday. Or wait, maybe that one is actually not a dream. Anyways... like I said, they are harmless. But WACKY! Last night I had to bail a co-worker out of jail. Turns out she's a closet drunk, or at least in my dream she's a closet drunk. Now do you think there is any chance I am going to be able to look at her the same way again after what we went through at 3am this morning in my head? Then there is the girl I kissed in a dream once. Think we're still friends?

And as I recall all of these crazy dreams I notice, not one of them is funny. Scary, disturbing, boring, but not funny. So for Jackson I wish those late night laughs to continue for as long as they can. Because before too long I'm sure they'll change to screams or late night profanity! Sweet dreams baby  boy!

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

I'm Taking These Boys to the Ghetto

In "the bubble" at the Denver Aquarium.
Needless to say they live in their own little bubble as it is!
I've always wondered if my kids aren't a bit sheltered. Living in a small mountain town in Colorado they don't get to see or experience a lot of the things that I did growing up in North Carolina. Hell, our town doesn't even have a fast food joint! I mean, what kid doesn't stop by McDonald's at least once a week? Granted there is one down the highway a bit, but this is "special treat" territory.

My husband always tells me my fear of their isolation is dumbfounded and reminds me how lucky they are to grow up in such an amazing place. "Besides," he says "they'll learn plenty from television." Yeah, that's great, so far thanks to television they know how to make swiper stop swiping and what dragons to look out for when they are sailing their ships to Neverland.

Last weekend we took the boys to Denver and it became very clear to me that I am correct, and my boys could use a little more "real-world" experience. Just a few of the instances that lead me to this conclusion:

- When laying eyes on a (not-so-nice) high rise apartment building Jackson says, "Look mommy, its jail!"

- Jackson got out of bed at least four times in the night to peak out of the hotel window and confirm that the workmen below were in fact, still working on the road construction. He was amazed that work actually takes place after dark.

- Trey walked up to a homeless man and stole "snacks" from him to feed the birds. I tried to explain stealing isn't nice, especially when you are stealing from someone with no teeth who smells like last years laundry.

- Explaining the concept of a cab to these boys was as easy as explaining Einstein's Theory of General Relativity. They just weren't getting it!

- It is utterly unimaginable to Jackson that people can actually live in a building with no yard. I think he called me a liar more than once.

So it's official, I'm ready to pack these boys up and move them to the ghetto. It's time these boys start learning about real life. It's not all ski dates and backpacks boys. There's a tough world out there. And just as soon as mommy finishes her glass of Pinot by the fire we're headed out!

Monday, March 25, 2013

We'll Never Hear "Toot" Again


I have a two-year old who is fully convinced that he is four. Ask him how old he is, he answers "four." No you're only two you say, "no, I four," he replies. There is nothing, and I mean nothing, that his actual four year old brother can do that he can't. Jackson climbs up the big slide, Trey is right behind him climbing up. Jackson walks, Trey demands to get out of the stroller and walk beside him. Jackson opens a door, and we have to wait for it to close again so Trey can push with all his might to open it himself.

While cute, this phenomenon can also be terribly annoying. Needless to say, while he can do a lot of the things his older brother can do, many he can't or worse, shouldn't. Like at the amusement park when Jackson climbed up the 40' bounce slide and my little one was right behind him every step, then launched himself down in a terrifying flip which turned every head in the park in my direction with their disapproving looks. Or when he saw Jackson jumping off the side of the pool into the deep end and immediately followed suit without considering the fact that HE DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO SWIM!

The sad thing is, we are missing so many of the cute firsts that we enjoyed with Jackson when he was two. Trey just skipped them! No cute pictures of this kid in an inflatable dinosaur at the pool, he'll attempt to navigate the waters on his own. No watching Chicka together on Sprout, he jumped straight into Nickelodeon. No hearing Trey start to put words together, he went straight into full sentences. My husband summed this up over the weekend with the following comment said almost tearfully, "we'll never get to hear Trey say toot, he went straight into fart." 

Enjoy it while you can!

Saturday, March 16, 2013

Damn You Pinterest!

I wasn't going to do it. I had too many social media accounts to manage as it was. I don't like crafts, I can't cook and home decorating isn't in my budget! No way were you going to find me on Pinterest. And then....

It was recommended to me that I create a Pinterest account for the organization I work for. Not having a clue how Pinterest works I decided to play around on a personal account before screwing something up with  the company's name on it. Assuming of course that I'd spend an hour or so with my own tutorial and then leave the account never to be opened again while I focused on the one I had to create.

Little did I know how unbelievably addictive this little website could be. My one hour tutorial turned into a straight three hours in front of my screen. Followed by an extremely long late-night session after I got the kids in bed that night. This was a week ago and since then not only do I have over 150 pins, I'VE ACTUALLY USED THEM!


Me, who never crafts, painting the legs on my kitchen table this weekend. Me, who normally throws the kids artwork in the garbage actually dedicated a wall in my dining room as their "masterpiece" display. Me, who considers coloring in a coloring book perfectly fine art for the kids, sat on the floor and painted mason jars with my son which we turned into nightlights. Me, who hates to cook, well I still hate to cook, but I did hand over some yummy recipes to the hubby to make.

How you may ask, could someone without an ounce of creativity in her bones pull this off? Because this website makes it so damn easy! My husband has no idea what to think. But he likes it. My kids aren't sure if they should still call me Mommy. But they are having fun. I too am not exactly sure why it is I can't seem to spend more than a few hours away from the Pinterest screen. But I sure as hell hope you'll join me at the party: http://pinterest.com/andrearbeard//!

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Through the Eyes of a 4-Year Old



Wouldn't it be nice if we could all see through the eyes of a four year old? So often my son will comment on something he see's and I will think to myself, "he must be out of his little mind!" But in hindsight, maybe I'm the one out of my mind, because it is clear that he sees things in a much better light. For instance:



Seeing Cameron Diaz on television:
Jackson says: "Look, Aunt Heather is on television."
I see: That its obvious my sister is skinnier and prettier than I am.

Seeing a Lexus pull-up beside us:
Jackson says: "Look Mommy that car looks just like yours."
I see: A car that is clean, has no dents and costs about $30,000 more than my piece of junk.

Waking up to see snow on the ground:
Jackson says, "Isn't is beautiful!"
I see: A fantastic drive to work in my future.

Watching his Dad make hot dogs for dinner:
Jackson says, "Yipppeee!"
I see: An empty bank account

Watching NASCAR on television:
Jackson says, "This is so cool!"
I see: My son at age 25 sitting on a couch and drinking beer with no shirt on.

Looking at me, when absolutely exhausted but pulling through:
Jackson says, "You're the best mommy ever!"
I see: The love of my life in front of me.



Sunday, February 17, 2013

Could Someone Please Check My ID???

The hubby and I went for a few drinks after a great ski day last week, just before we had to pick the youngest up from ski school. We picked a cool new bar to hang out at, one we hadn't visited before, mainly because we don't exactly get out to "cool new bars" much these days. We had a great day on the slopes, kicking ass on fresh powder and feeling like we were youngsters again.  That is, feeling like youngsters right up until we visited the bar.

We grabbed a seat on the "oh so hip" deck and ordered cocktails. I felt great, right up until the moment the waitress moved to take the order from the table next to us and asked to see the patrons ID's when they ordered their cocktails. Not 30 seconds earlier I ordered a drink and this same waitress didn't so much as blink. No request to prove I was of age for such an order. Not even a second glance in my direction to confirm I was a dinosaur. 

Yes, this is childish. Yes, this is vain. But damn if I wouldn't like for someone besides a police officer pulling me over for speeding to just once ask me again for my ID. Even in bars that visibly display signs declaring, "WE CARD EVERYONE," I get no request to view that lovely DMV photo that we all style our hair for.

And so, I feel old! Is it wrong to miss the days I carried around an ID of someone five years older than me just to get into a nightclub or buy a bottle of vodka at the ABC Store. Funny how you work so hard at being older when you are young, and then wish for the days someone made you recite the address on that fake ID (which I can still quote without a fault to this day thank you very much!).

So my pretty license picture will continue to sit in the wallet until I decide to get a ticket for going 85 in a 60, fine. But I'll promise you this, next time I have to sit for two hours at the DMV for a new license photo, there will be no styling of this hair! You can have the unbrushed poney tail from now on folks!

Friday, January 25, 2013

Yeah Baabbyyyy!!


I used to love the Winter X Games. I actually live about 15 minutes from where they take place.  For years I'd go out and watch the competition in person until I realized how much easier it was to just sit at home with the heat on and watch them from TV, then go out and hit the after parties.  But as of last night its official, I hate the Winter X Games!

While watching the qualification round of the Men's Snowboard Superpipe I had two boys on my lap screaming at the top of their lungs:
"WOW!!!!"
"THAT'S AWESOME!!!""
and my personal favorite:
"YEAH BAAABYYYY!!!"

A 2-year old and 4-year old were transfixed by the flips, the speed, the height.  They simply couldn't get enough.  I of course felt like that once, before I had kids.  Now when I see the admiration come from their eyes when the "Flying Tomato" hits the screen I fear for the future.

I simply can't imagine what mother's must go through when they stand on those sidelines and watch their baby boys or girls do double back flips in the air over a solid sheet of ice.  Or the poor moms whose sons are hanging upside down under a 450 pound snowmobile.  How can they stand there and just watch?  What do their insides feel like at that moment?  And let's not even go to the moment where one of the sons or daughters misses the trick, hits the ground, and lies motionless for seconds that must feel like years.

I don't want to be that mom, and yet, living where I live and watching the excitement in my sons eyes when I take him to his ski lessons on a Saturday morning, I know the chances of me being that mom are very real.  Hell, my mom is that mom.  No, I'm not a champion snowboarder, but there is a risk every time I strap that board on that I know she fears much more than myself.  In fact, I really have no fear when I ride.  As I am sure the professional athletes at the X Games have little if any fear.  As I am sure my children with have no fear.  And yet I will be shaking in my boots, covering my eyes, likely puking my guts up on the side of the mountain, all in the wait of hearing a "YEAH BAAABYYYY," when my boys land on their feet!  


Monday, January 21, 2013

Pride, Respect, Future

Four years ago I sat with my 7-month old and watched the first inauguration of President Barack Obama.  I remember it well as I was filled with so much pride that day, knowing that my son was born into a country where change was possible.  A country where racial barriers were being destroyed.  A country where anything was possible to anyone.  At that time I had no blog and so wrote a long entry in my diary of the multitude of feelings I encountered while holding my baby boy and watching history in the making.

Four years later I again am overwhelmed.  I was fortunate enough to have the day off for the holiday and even more fortunate that the boys daycare was actually open.  Not wanting to miss a single second of a day of freedom and yet not wanting to miss the inauguration, I decided on a morning hike with my iphone.  I was able to listen to President Obama's entire speech as I hiked through the snow in the beautiful mountains in which I'm so blessed to live.  Tears formed in my eyes during many moments of the speech as again I was overwhelmed by just how very lucky we are to live in a country of freedom, where so many opportunities await us and our children.

Just as I reached the top of the mountain Beyonce came on singing our National Anthem.  To say it was a special moment would be an understatement.  I stood at the top, listened to her amazing rendition, and started out into this, full of hope, full of joy and so full of thanks:


Believe me, I am far from a political person.  I wouldn't consider myself a Republican or a Democrat.  I listen to both sides and both agree and disagree with both sides.  In the end I vote for the side that I have more agreement than disagreement with.  If my side wins I'm happy.  If my side doesn't win, I'm respectful of the side that did.  If we don't support each other, work together, respect each other, and treat each and every citizen as our equal, we are failing not just ourselves, but our children, our grandchildren, our legacies.  I felt that today through Obama's words.  I hope we all did!


Sunday, January 13, 2013

Are You Freaking Kidding Me?


Every morning for the last week the first word's out of Jackson's mouth have been, "Is it ski lessons today?"  I had let him know last weekend that his ski lessons would begin the following Saturday, not realizing that to my four year old Saturday could literally mean in an hour.  His excitement was contagious for the entire week as we rented his ski package, bought his new ski coat and went to pick up his ski pass.

When the day finally arrived I heard him stirring first thing in the morning, (as usual he had made his sneak into Mommy & Daddy's room around 3am) and upon realizing he was in fact awake I heard a giant gasp from his side of the bed followed by a scream of, "it's ski lesson day!"  Yes, the day he had been waiting on had finally arrived.  I'm not sure if he took a full breath the entire drive to the mountain as he yapped and yapped and yapped about what the day would be like.  I was as excited for him as he was.

Park the car, battle the sea of parents, kids, skis, boots, and freezing cold temperatures, and to his ski class we arrived.  I introduced Jackson to his new teacher and turned to leave and go enjoy a few runs of my own when I hear a screaming and crying behind me.  No, that couldn't be...  Is that....  OMG that is Jackson!  Having a damn fit because he doesn't want me to leave him at ski lessons.

How is this possible?  I have heard nothing but "ski lessons" for seven days straight and now I have the one kid on the mountain throwing an absolute tantrum.  I was truly shocked as I tried everything in my power to pull him off of my legs and stay where he was meant to stay.  After 20 minutes of bargaining, wrestling and trying not to look like a child abuser in front of 100 other parents, I finally left him lying in the middle of the snow crying his eyes out.

From there I go back to my car, sit and cry my eyes out.  I felt terrible for having left him, not to mention overwhelmed by what had just happened.  Eventually I pulled myself together and tried my best to enjoy the free time I had to snowboard.

When the time arrived to pick Jackson up I was fearful of what lay ahead.  What if he's still lying in the same spot where I had left him four hours earlier?  He turned to see me just as I was walking up to the mountain and with horror on his face he screams, "Noooooo, I want to keep skiing!!"   Are you freaking kidding me?

Thursday, January 10, 2013

You're the Baby, I'm the Daddy


We recently had a new babysitter watch the boys for us on a Friday afternoon.  I immediately liked her!  But considering my Rolodex of babysitter's is only about three names deep, I think she'd have to show up with a bottle of Jack Daniel's to share with the kids for me not to like her.  The boys also seemed to immediately be taken by our new guest, so I left feeling confident they would have a fun day.

I returned home a few hours later to find our new friend playing hide and seek with the kids, which is always preferable to walking in to find both boys eyes glued to Scooby Doo on the television.  According to the sitter they had been playing all afternoon, starting with Jackson, my 4-year old deciding he would direct a game of "house."  The sitter informed me that he had told her to play the baby while he would play the role of Daddy.  After roles were determined it was showtime and what did Daddy do?  The sitter laughed as she told me how he immediately walked into the kitchen, grabbed a water bottle, came back in the living room, sat down in the recliner, and let her know that he was having a beer!

I was mortified!!  Is drinking beer in the recliner the ultimate role of the "daddy" as our 4-year old see's it?  Why couldn't he have said he was going to work?  Walking the dog?  Hell, he could have pulled out the vacuum and pretended to clean.  No not manly but his Dad's role nonetheless.  Yes, mortified I was, especially considering this behavior was first witnessed by a complete stranger.  

But as always I looked for the bright side, which in this case should be quite obvious...  at least he wasn't pretending to be Mommy!  If that had been the case there'd have been one less name on the Rolodex list of babysitters as I would likely have been too humiliated to call her back!  

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Ski Naked!

I'm normally not a Wordless Wednesday participator, but I just couldn't resist this chance to have my 2-year old want to kill me later in life!


Friday, January 4, 2013

The 11 Days of Christmas

At the Movies
You would think with an 11 day holiday vacation I'd be posting on the blog daily.  Obviously that wasn't the case.  Why you ask?  One word answer: kids!  

Eleven days, all spent from morning til night with my little bundles of joy.  Eleven days, that felt like eleven months.  Make that eleven years.  Make that.... well you get my point.  Don't get me wrong, I truly appreciate every single second that I have to spend with my boys.  I've even convinced myself that I appreciate the seconds when they are screaming their lungs out while kicking and rolling on the floor.  But eleven days contain a lot of seconds, and although I still appreciate every one of them, I must say, it was a bit overwhelming.

I did however, learn quite a few helpful lessons during this "vacation" that I can carry forward for future "seconds."  Here I'll share just a few, for any of you other moms not quite accustomed to the SAHM lifestyle:

1. Never take a two year old to the movies.  Thinking my four year old would enjoy Monsters Inc. and the two year old would sit quietly and eat popcorn, I made this attempt.  Bad f'ing idea!  The two year old was all over the place.  Not just in our theater, but every other theater in the joint.  One highlight though, as he mingled from room to room I was able to get a preview of almost every blockbuster of the season!

2. Make sure to have double the amount of groceries needed stocked and ready to go in your kitchen before "vacation" time starts.  God forbid you have to go to the store with the little ones.  I went four times during the eleven days and am convinced I have four new wrinkles on my face.  One for each visit.

3. Allowing children to color themselves with washable marker can be a nice alternative to drowning shots of vodka.  When I had finally hit my breaking point last Friday it led to this:



I didn't care, they could do whatever they wanted, as long as they were QUIET.  The time it took them to create this mess may well have been my happiest moments of the entire vacation.

4. Don't take your eyes off your kids for a second when visiting Whole Foods.  While searching for an overly priced bread for Christmas morning my two devils were able to sneak behind me a grab one of EVERYTHING from the conveniently located sweets table.  Yes, the thought to put every one of them back, germs and all, did cross my mind, but I imagined the scorn in which I would face from other shoppers wasn't worth the expense of a dozen sweets.

5. Having relatives around for the holidays isn't such a bad idea after all.  I certainly could have used the help!

Happy New Year everyone!