Kickin it MySpace Style

So, I feel compelled to keep the five or six readers {and that's being wildly generous} that visit my blogisphere entertained while I'm on vacation because I'm a dedicated asshole that way.

I had the best intentions.

I was going to schedule a post to pop up for every day I was going to be gone.

It would be like I died but you kept getting letters from me in the mail to help you cope with the loss, like in P.S. I Love You, which was a BULLSHIT movie AND book because they both made me cry the ugly cry.

Anyway, about 3 scheduled posts in I ran completely out of ideas.

Yesterday all you got was a retyped copy of Desiderata by Max Erhmann, and a picture I made a year and a half ago with my stolen copy of Photoshop.

Just kidding. I never stole anything.

Shhhh.

Today is not going to be any better for you, and I'm truly sorry.

Feel free to go read some actually decent blogs if you want real substance until I return from making an ass of myself overseas. 

{YES all three of the words 'actually decent blogs' linked to a separate blog that is entirely better than mine. YOU'RE WELCOOME}

{P.S. Don't leave me}

Today we're going to kick it MySpace style. 

Remember MySpace?

Sure you do, it's that old social "networking" site that we all like to pretend we weren't addicted to back in the day, when you were the shit if you knew how to make those little heart gif's rain down all over your profile page.

And surveys.

Don't even ACT like you didn't LOVE MySpace surveys.

You'd see them pop up in the bulletins section, aka the "news feed" and you would just be DYING to copy and paste those 200,000 questions into a new bulletin so you could answer them all too, and tell the whole world what your favorite flavor of ice cream is, and which side of the bed you fart on.

Well, here is a little Thursday morning blast from the past for you.

Except I couldn't remember all the right questions so I made them up.

Favorite Color: Red. But I also REALLY like black and bright pink. And several shades of blue. AND SHINY THINGS.

McDonalds or Burger King: In and Out Burger

Vodka or Whiskey: Captain Morgan

Favorite Ice Cream: Bill has taught me not to have a favorite, but if I had to pick it would be coffee ice cream with crushed up oreos in it. 

Nickname: Sarebear, chinchilla, Scott, Sargent, Hippy and Coraline.

Favorite Time of Day: 8 p.m.

Favorite Song: Right now it's Some Nights by fun.

Most Lusted After Celebrity: Johnny Depp or Ryan Gosling

Random Fact About You: I can't whistle, cross my eyes or blow smoke rings. But I can wiggle my ears and roll my tongue.

A Skill You Wish You Had: Singing ability

What Always Makes you Laugh: Bill or my kids

What Always Pisses You Off: Being interrupted

What Are you Hypocritical About: Interrupting others.

When Do You Wake Up: If by wake up you mean get out of bed, then 6:30, if by wake up you mean be able to function, then 9 a.m.

What Would You Do If You Could Do Anything Right Now: Well, right now I'm in Italy with my boyfriend, and that's pretty cool, so I guess the only other thing would be play with a baby black bear. That'd be boss.

Coke or Pepsi: Coke

Shoes or Barefoot: pink socks

Favorite Smell: My kids when they're clean, Bill when he's not.

I hope you all learned something here today.

A Favorite-Desiderata

Photo by Sarah Horne. If you steal it give me credit, fucker.

Desiderata is one of my all time favorite poems.

By Max Erhmann.

...

Go placidly amid the noise and haste

and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly

and listen to others.

Even to the dull and the ignorant.

They too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons

They are vexatious to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others 

you may become vain or bitter,

for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans,

Keep interested in your career, however humble. 

It is a real possession in the changing fortune of times.

Exercise caution in your business affairs, 

the world is full of trickery.

But let this not blind you to what virtue there is.

Many persons strive for high ideals, 

and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, 

gracefully surrendering the things of youth.

Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune,

but do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.

Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. 

Beyond a wholesome discipline, 

be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the Universe; 

no less than the trees and the stars, 

you have a right to be here.

And whether or not it is clear to you, 

no doubt the Universe if unfolding as it should.

Therefor be at peace with God, 

whatever you conceive him to be.

And whatever your aspirations in this noisy confusion of life, 

keep peace in your soul.

With all it's sham, drudgery and broken dreams, 

it is still a beautiful world.

Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

-Max Erhmann 

2012 Photo Challenge: Heard

Currently I am in Italy, probably creating an International Incident and getting arrested, whilst Bill screams "PASSIVE RESISTANCE! GO LIMP! GO LIMP!" 

So I can't give you a picture for this weeks subject which was "heard". 

Also I wouldn't even know how to take a picture of something I heard.

Who's idea was it to make heard a photography subject?

Oh right. Mine.

Anyhow, I can give you some stuff from around the internets that sort of has to do with things I've heard...

Oh whatever, it's just shit I like, ok?

What else are you going to do with your time, actual work?!

Don't be a bullshitter.
...
My favorite music video ever:
   

The two best parts are at 2:21 and 2:37

,,,


This has nothing to do with hearing anything, I just....really really like it.

...

Monday Momisms: My Son Is Pregnant

For the last week my 3 year old son {who I feel like most of my posts about the weird shit my kids do are about} has been walking around the house, rubbing his belly and saying 

"I have a baby in my tummy"

He's been really curious about babies and pregnancy lately, asking how he was born and what it was like when he was in my tummy.

His questions are all really precious and cute, but they still catch me a little off guard because Lainie still  has never really asked about that stuff. 

I've heard her talk in bits and pieces about it, and we've covered some of the smaller more PG details, but she never came out and asked how babies are made, where they come from or any of that.

However, it's not like pregnancy and birth are new topics in this house.

During my stint as a doula and student midwife she heard plenty of birth and pregnancy talk, so maybe she just picked up most of what she wanted-and didn't want to know from there.

After all when some old guy in a grocery store said something about me having a baby in my tummy while I was pregnant with Jack, she got all in his face about how it was in my Uterus, NOT my tummy.

I digress.

So, Jack has been pregnant lately, and while it's cute, it's also something I'm super new to.

I have never heard of a little boy who made up an imaginary pregnancy, but I have seen plenty of little girls do it.

Hell, I was like always pregnant when I was little, and I had 5 imaginary kids before my 5th birthday.

{foreshadowing, anyone?}

I'm a little curious to see how Jack's teachers will react when he starts telling them about Cha Cha, his imaginary girl-fetus living inside his round little belly, which he keeps saying will "be borned next Sunday". 

He hasn't specified which Sunday, but two have passed since he started saying that, so I'm getting a little anxious to meet my first imaginary grandchild.

Let's just hope it sleeps through the night from an early age.

The Friday Diary: Arrivederci

Happy Friday everybody!

As you probably already know due to my excessive posting about the matter, this will be my last "live post" before I leave for Italy.

Everything you read for the next 9 days will have been scheduled out, to give you something to read while I'm away. 

It's like when your parents go out of town and leave you money for pizza to make for not being there to cook for you.

 

...

To be honest, this week was kind of exhausting. 

I'm glad it's over.

I usually try to make the Friday Diaries happy and uplifting, because it's FUCKING FRIDAY and that spells Awesome in any country.

But this week I am so so tired.

Family shit, work shit, house work, money money money and time. Never enough time.

Plus I attempted formal dress shopping on Sunday, and that's always a major hit to the ego when you're trying {and failing} to lose weight.

So while this Friday may not be the happiest and most bubbly of diary entries, it is one of quiet somber gratitude for the week being over, and my vacation being right around the corner.

Thank you for the good days, and thank you for the bad ones that make me stronger.

And thank you thank you thank you for Italy on Sunday.

...

Overheard this week:

Me: How do you know you'll love me forever?

Bill: I just know. That's like asking how you know you'll love bears forever.

Me: No, that's easy. They're bears. Bears can do no wrong. And they could never hurt me.

Bill: Did you really just say that BEARS could never hurt you?

Me: Well, emotionally. Besides, even if I got physically close enough to a bear for it to hurt me, it wouldn't. We're friends.

Bill: I literally can't believe the words that are coming out of your mouth.

...

Something to be happy about:

My super crazy cakes boss left town on Tuesday, and won't return until next Thursday, whilst I will be in Italy until Wednesday after next. Meaning we don't see each other for 15 days.

It's an April miracle, everybody.

{like a Christmas miracle, only without any presents afterward}

...

A First:

Lainie is going to Summer camp this Summer.

That's a first for her, and kind of a super huge deal for me that I can do that for her.

I've been a single mom for as long as I've been a mom, and affording things like food and electricity was always such a big deal that things like Summer camp and extracurricular activities were pretty much {sadly} out of the question. But I can totally do this for her this Summer, and I don't know who's more excited: Lainie to go, or me to see her face when she comes back.

...

Photos From The Week:

Hey, look who actually got ready for work....for once.

...

Playing in Mommy's bed

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Saturday afternoon: Family fun day for my work at Crackerjax. It was unexpectedly freezing cold, and only one person from my work that I ever talk to showed up, but the kids had fun and I was completely worn out.

...

The Haps on Pinterest:

One of the things I want to make for my house is cool looking mason jars with old vintage spools of thread in them.

I know, it sounds retarded. 

It will look awesome, I promise.

...

Listen To This

Did you like The Format?

I said "did" because they're broken up now, but it's ok, you're still allowed to love them. 

I do.

Anyway, they broke up in 2008, sad sad, but their music was starting to get half assed and I for one was a little relieved.

Apparently however, unbenounced to me, the lead singer Nate formed a new band called Fun. with a period.

I have to say "with a period" because it's going to piss me off if people start spelling it without the period, just like when people don't write Panic! At the Disco correctly.

Anyhow, maybe you already heard of them, but I had not until just the other day, and once I heard their single "We are young" I stayed up way too late searching for, downloading and falling in love with every single one of their new songs.

Seriously, I was instantly addicted.

So give it a listen if you haven't heard of them, and listen especially if you've only heard their 1 song that's getting radio play {for the first time recently, even though it was released 4 years ago}

Enjoy, and have fun.
Get it???

2012 Photo Challenge: Sleep

This is Orso. 

I never sleep without him.

Monday Momisms: When Your Baby Makes Out With You

Jackson, age 1

Does your kid ever try to make out with you?

No?

Must just be mine.

The other night I was playing with Jack, tickling him and giving him kisses, and we were laughing and having a great time, when all of a sudden my super affectionate little angel got a little too affectionate.

He grabbed my face to give me a smooch, like he always does, when suddenly I felt something quite wet, and realized he had tried to tongue kiss me.

Yep.

I panicked a little a shrieked, which he found hilarious, and made him only try to kiss me even more.

"Why are you licking me?!" I said, probably a little too loud.

"I wanna kiss you like a puppy!" he giggled, grabbing my face again and moving in for the kill.

I gave him a quick peck and shooed him off to play.

"I licked Mom on the face!" He yelled to Lainie excitedly, to which she replied "Ewwww gross!"

Ummm, hold your judgment there, Lainie Bear. 

She totally did the same shit when she was little.

She told me one day when she was at the sweet age of 2, that she wanted to kiss me like a Prince kisses a Princess.

Before I could process what she was saying, she'd grabbed my face in a death grip and gave me a big, sopping, open mouth kiss.

I was more than a little surprised.

I'm starting to wonder if my kids are the only ones that start assaulting people with their violent slobber smooch's at the ripe young ages of 2 and 3, or if I have some how fucked them up so badly that they just go around tongue kissing anyone because they don't know how to keep their mouths closed during social interactions.

Just another one of those wonderfully awkward moments that comes with being a mom.

Fucking kids are so weird.

But adorable.

But seriously really weird. 

Words

I haven't been able to write anything even remotely resembling poetry in a while.

This always starts to panic me.

"Have I lost it? Have I lost all my words?!" I check, and discover I definitely haven't lost all my words. 

I can still speak.

Answer questions, give directions and tell you what I did this weekend.

"Have I lost all my pretty words?!" I check, and confirm that they in fact are still there too.

I still know all the beautiful words, they just don't go together as well they used to.

Like looking through my closet for something to wear. 

I still have all my same clothes, just none of them fit like they used to or match like they once did. 

They get tried on, discarded, flung across the room and left in heaping piles of rejected combinations.

The ones I do use, by the end of the day are falling off the page

Along with their meaning.

The Friday Diary: Happy Luckiest Day Ever

Today is Friday the 13th!

For those of you who think this day is bad luck, I would just like to say: Calm the fuck down.

It's just a day, and everything is going to be fine. 

Besides, historically {in the history of my life anyway} this is always a very good day.

So I'm super stoked.

On that note, let's wrap this week up

...

I randomly had this song stuck in my head the other day, and kept wandering around my office humming it until someone asked if I was humming Amazing Grace, which made me consider the idea that I suck at humming.

...

As of today, there are only 9 more sleeps until Italy.

Yes, I am starting to freak out a little, thanks for asking.


...

Overheard this week:
Me: I need more friends. There's just some stuff girls can only talk about with other girls.
Bill: You should have a candle party with some girls then!
Me: I have no idea what that is, but it sounds porny.
Bill: Well they have those too. Passion Parties!
Me: I'm not sure the best way to make friends is to be like "Hey you wanna be my best friend? Here, buy this bright pink dick first."
Bill: Ok, back to candle parties then.
Me: "WHY ARE YOU LEAVING?! IT'S A GOOD DICK, I PROMISE!"
Bill: You're very convincing.
Me: "It vibrates in five speeds! It comes in various colors! PUN INTENDED!"
Bill: NO! Back to candle parties!!
Me: And that's how Sarah got evicted for standing outside screaming about dicks as cars sped away from her house under a barrage off flying dildos.

They really frown on flying dildos in Chandler.
Stuck up pricks.
{PUN INTENDED}

...

Most Recently Pinned:


...

Say hello to the next thing we're going to have to have a funeral for in the backyard because of my negligence:

His name is Mervin and he's amazing.
** Update: Mervin attempted suicide the other day. It was a close call, but after a good trimming, some excessive watering, being read Peter Pan and getting a stern pep talk I think he's out of the woods.
...

Look what came in the mail the other day?

Bill was so excited he sent me a picture of our plane and cruise tickets, about which I was so excited, I blogged it so you all could see it too.
BE EXCITED WITH ME WON'T YOU?!

...

Happy Friday the 13th!
Try not to piss off any black cats, or broken mirrors or....whatever.

Pre-Italy Freak Out

So do you remember that time I went to Vegas with Bill, and completely freaked out before the trip because it was the most time we'd ever spent alone together and I was certain he would come back hating me, because I drool in my sleep and spill food when I eat, and experiencing that one night a week is one thing, but for 3 straight days is probably too much?

Well, it's happening again. 

As of today there are only 10 more sleeps until Italy, and I'm starting to lose my shit a little when I think about it. 

So much so in fact that I've put off doing literally ALL THE THINGS I need to do before we leave and now I'm running out of time. 

I need to find a formal dress because the one I ordered online STILL HASN'T COME.

I need to get a new suitcase because the handle on mine broke YEARS AGO and I've just been putting it off because it never mattered, until. now.

I need to get a couple different things clothes wise, figure out what I'm bringing and make a schedule of when the kids will be where and with who while I'm gone for like 10 whole days.

All of that on top of the fact that Bill and I will be alone together for 10 WHOLE DAYS is a recipe for a spastic colon and an overdose on Rescue Remedy.

I'm trying to stay calm and remember that I loved him more after we came back from Vegas, and that trip is still one of our best shared memories, so I'm sure a romantic 10 days together in Italy will be even better. 

If Vegas doesn't ruin your relationship, it should certainly be able to survive the most romantic country in the world. 

Yes, even more romantic than France. 

Suck it France.

Really my biggest fears are all stupid shit that I only fool myself into thinking Bill hasn't already been exposed to.

Things like "what if I snore really loud in my sleep and he just can't take it anymore after 5 straight days, and he jumps off the side of the ship?" -Just for the record, I NEVER SNORE - Duh. But if I did, I don't want him to be bothered by it.

And what if my boob falls out of my pretty formal dress at the nice formal dinner where some of his career field colleagues and one of his business partners will be, and forever after I will be remembered as the girl who's boob was all over the place at that one dinner on that cruise in Italy, and Bill is just so embarrassed he dumps me and marries someone who looks like a president's wife?

There are just so many unknowns.

In the end I know it's all going to be meaningless when I wake up for the first time in Rome, next to my boyfriend and we order breakfast wine and chocolate and spend the rest of the days teasing each other about our mutual inability to speak any language other than highly sarcastic English.

It's going to be fine....right?

What I think About When I Should Be Sleeping

When I sit cross legged on my bed for so long, browsing useless shit on Pinterest or other blogs I stumble upon at 11 o'clock at night, that one of my legs goes to sleep and I am vaguely aware that if someone broke in right now I would be unable to run or defend myself because of my suddenly bum leg. All because some bitch had a board full of bacon recipes on Pinterest that I just couldn't click out of.

...

"Wow, just worked out for 2 whole hours and it felt amazing! Think I'll clean my entire house and bake a cake from scratch before rubbing my husband's feet and reading my perfect children a story. Loving life!!!!"

-Said the most bullshit Facebook status in the history of ever.

...

You know you're in full blow "Season of the Mad Cow" aka PMS Land, when the only shit you've pinned in the last 4 days has been dessert recipes and instructions for making a moomoo. 

...

Those little tins of toffee bits and coffee beans covered in chocolate from Trader Joes...wtf, how do you eat those? I mean is that a single serving can, or are they to be eaten like breath mints, you just pop one in your mouth every once in a while when you're feeling like a tad something sweet?

Someone explain this to me, because those little bits of wonderful are fucking tiny, and I know for a solid FACT I could eat that whole can in one sitting, and also who the hell ever feels like "a tad something sweet" and just stops there?!

No one. Ever.

...

I really hate when I'm in the middle of a good blogging flow and I suddenly have to pee really bad.

...

Is it weird that the theme song to Rugrats is like taking an Ambien and a shot of Vodka to me?

As soon as that music starts, I start fading fast until I'm out like a light on the couch while my kids trash the house and watch cartoons for God only knows how long.

I'm not entirely sure why this show turns me into Pavlov's Narcoleptic, but I think it has something to do with all the mornings I let Jack watch it to keep him entertained while I slept in "just a little bit longer"

Being a shitty parent always bites you in the ass later. 

...

2012 Photo Challenge: In Your Bag

In my bag, or as Bill calls it "my pocket book". But I always yell at him when he says that because my pocket book would be my wallet, if I was 80 and called my wallet my pocket book, but in no UNIVERSE would a pocket book be my purse BECAUSE WHO COULD FIT THAT PURSE IN THEIR POCKET?!

And it looks nothing like a book. 

But then he just says "It's a Boston thing" and my head explodes because he blames all the weird shit he does on being from Boston, except he doesn't have an awesome Boston accent to make up for it, except when he's hungry and kind of sounds like he's from Philly.

It's maddening. 

Anyway, for you nosy noodles who want to know what the small shit that you can't see the labels on is, I was nice enough to number it all for you.

1. Herbal children's cough medicine in travel size from Sprouts

2. Urban Decay "All Nighter" makeup spray. It's like hairspray for your maked-up face, and it keeps that shit from smudging, smearing and sweating off. I got it for Christmas from Bill's sister and that shit is awesome-sauce. 

3. Victoria's Secret Raspberry something or other body spray. It smells like Raspberry. End of story. 

4. EOS sweet mint lip gloss egg

5. Bach Flower Rescue Remedy. Simply the shit.

6. Urban Decay mascara in "Fresh". Also a Christmas gift from Bills sister. I've never met her, but I already kind of love her. 

7. Maybeline Age Rewind foundation in "Pale as all get out" shade. It has this fluffy little brush applicator tip thing, and its wonderful. It's the ONLY foundation that has ever matched my skin tone and it evens out my complexion perfectly. 

8. Maybeline Mineral Powder blush in light pink

All the other shit is a bottle of Motrin, some Olay face lotion, my wallet, my work badge, a two sided pocket mirror, hand sanitizer, sun glasses and a tire pressure gauge. 

And there you have it. 

Now you've gotten into my bag.

Monday Momisms: Kids Make Holidays Awesome and Awful

It's Monday, and y'all, I'm a mess today. 

Easter weekend really kicked my ass, and this morning while I was talking about my weekend with my friend at work, I found myself muttering into my coffee cup "I hate holidays"

And even as the words left my mouth I was shocked by them.

I love holidays!

But I think having kids is ruining holidays for me.

No, wait, that sounded mean. 

Kids make holidays so much more worth it...yes let's start there. Kids make holidays so much more worth it, because really, aren't like 99% of holidays designed entirely for kids?

I think Valentine's Day, Mother's Day and Father's Day are the only holidays that aren't primarily centered on making a child's childhood more magical.

And two of those three wouldn't exist if it weren't FOR children.

So it goes without saying that kids make holidays awesome. They're a great excuse to rekindle the child in you as you get all into making the holiday fun for the kids.

But kids also make holidays incredibly hard.

Saturday night, my dad were up until 2 in the morning filling plastic Easter eggs and trying to find all the best places to hide them, talking about how excited the kids would be to hunt them the next day, and imagining their little faces all lit up and precious, as wonderful family memories were made.

Of course it didn't exactly go that way.

The kids woke up at 6 a.m., and promptly discovered a box of marshmallow peeps in the kitchen. Jack-who was in a piss ass mood, sat down to eat them while Lainie woke me up. She was manic to the max and ready to go all Rambo on the house and yard in search of every possible egg. 

Jack whined and complained and bitched and moaned about having to look for eggs, while Lainie had to be constantly reminded to leave some eggs for her brother to find.

Once the madness of hunting for the eggs was over, the insanity of the day began.

Between consuming too much sugar and being super excited that it was a holiday, the kids basically acted like jerk holes the entire day. The INSISTED on hiding their eggs ALL OVER AGAIN and making the other kid search for the eggs they'd hidden. Which of course go them all mixed up and made them fight over who's was who's. They chased and yelled and tormented each other, alternating between fighting and playing, play fighting and fight playing all. fucking. day. Until finally when it was bathtime I scrubbed them as fast as I could, threw their jammies on and sent them to bed ASAP. 

I was exhausted, my feet and back were killing me and my kitchen looked like this:

That's actually a picture of a kitchen from the show Hoarders, which gives me mad anxiety.

Now today I was in a fog all morning, I'm completely exhausted and this is the first time I've sat down at my computer since Friday. 

I love my kids, and I love holidays with them.

But I think the stress and pressure of hosting holidays with kids involved is just so crazy cakes, it's kind of making me dread holidays a little bit. 

Am I the only terrible mother that feels that way?!

Our Easter Weekend

Friday

After seeing Titanic and waiting FOREVER for our pizza to come. 

Saturday
Look who got breakfast in bed:

Banana pancakes, made from scratch by the best boyfriend ever. 

AND he even cleaned the ENTIRE kitchen afterwards. 

Now THAT is some blog-worthy shit right there!

The kids riding the carousel at the park after playing for hours in the splash pad.

My dad rode a pretty pink pony on the carousel at the park. This picture alone is enough black mail to last me a lifetime, 

Fresh organic strawberries 

Sunday

The Friday Diary: Good F*cking Friday

What song could be more appropriate on an April Easter weekend, than April in Paris?
No song.

So Happy GOOD Friday, everyone. 

Yep, today is not just Friday it is GOOD Friday, which means you have to be nice to everyone and talk about Jesus and try not to call your kids assholes at all. 

For me this is one of the hardest days of the year. 

But this year I have the day off work, since the sweet Canadians I  work  for are kind enough to give us almost every holiday off. Except Flag Day, which I've expressed my disgruntlement about previously. 

Anyhow, let's have some orange juice with booze in it {which just seems like a happy spring time holiday drink} and see what the fuck I've been eating up to this week. 

...

On Sunday evening I tried the whole "mass cooking" thing, where you buy a shitload of food and basically cook dinners until the end of time, and then freeze them. 

Or, if you're me, you buy a shitload of food, freeze it, then get too lazy to thaw it all out at once so you can cook it all and really just end up making some kale chips, boiling a chicken and making the worlds biggest egg casserole which will be eaten by 3 people. 

Awesome. 

Recipe

Kale chips, anyone?

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In other news, a.k.a. fat news, I got Tae Bo DVD's. 

I know, Tae Bo is like soooo 90's, and I know, Billy Blanks is an egotistical, self serving moron. But he's a ripped egotistical self serving moron, and if he can possibly make me ripped too {or at least less whale-impersonationish} then I'll listen to whatever infomercial bullshit he has to say. 

I might post a before and after picture of myself in like a bikini  running suit like 30 days into using the DVD's if I can get my lazy ass to stop pounding white wine and actually get up and move around every single day after work. 

It could be a while. 

{you'll be amused to know that what finally made me decide to start working out for the first time....ever, was when I tried to take a "sexy" picture of my butt the other night to send to Bill, and I was so thoroughly depressed by what I saw that I IMMEDIATELY ordered the DVD's with rush shipping from Amazon. Seriously. See kids? Sometimes sexting can teach us valuable life lessons.}

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16 Sleeps until Italy motha fucka!!!!!!!!

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I made a fort for me for the kids:

I still totally play in it even though it's not mine.

The kids have to sleep sometime. And when they do, that baby is alllll MINE.

...

This time last year I was knee deep in a midwifery apprenticeship and a new budding business as a doula and childbirth educator, and trying to raise two kids at the same time that things were coming to a head with Bill and I. Kind of crazy how much can change in the course of a year, ya know?

...

This weekend I have big plans to 

1. Ditch my kids for my day off work tomorrow and sleep the fuck in.

2. See Titanic in 3D with Mr. Becker tomorrow night

3. Sleep the fuck in Saturday morning

4. Dye Easter eggs with the babies Saturday night which will seem super fun at first and then turn out to be a big messy stressful pain in the ass

5. Wonder why the hell we even still celebrate Easter

6. Start drinking at 8 a.m. on Sunday morning while I make a huge breakfast that no one will eat and the kids hunt for fight over eggs and chocolate in the backyard like depression era homeless kids. 

7. Spend all day yelling at the kids to stop fighting, screaming at my dad to stop sulking, and wishing I would've bought more booze filled chocolate

8. Pass out face down in a pile of malted milk chocolate egg things and foil candy wrappers with a sugar/wine hangover and one lone Easter egg that no one found slowly going bad in some dark corner of my house for me to sniff out later.

Happy Easter everyone.

Titanic and I, 14 Years Later

Titanic re-releases into theaters today, and yes I am definitely going to see it.
I love that movie, and I have since I was 10 years old when it first came out. Ask my sisters and they'll tell you they heard about NOTHING BUT that movie for a solid 9 months after it released 14 years ago. It moved me, quite literally to tears every time I watched it, making me cry the ugly cry much to the embarrassment of my older sisters who went to see it with me, and it made me cry every time I watched it after that over the years. But recently Bill and I watched it together, and I was shocked at the fact that I didn't cry. Not on single tear. I didn't even get choked up.
Wanna know why?
When I saw it in theaters all those years ago, with my sisters, my dad and my then step mom Tonya, I remember sitting there as the theater lights came back on and the credits rolled to a stop, and I was still sobbing.
Tonya turned to me and said
 "Although I doubt you'll ever experience something quite that tragic and dramatic, I guarantee some day you will experience something that romantic. If you're lucky you'll experience something even more romantic, something that will make that love story seem small and trivial to you. I promise."
I have remembered those words ever since.
And I think the reason I didn't cry after watching it with Bill was because I finally realized: She was right.
I did experience am experiencing something better.
But it's still an awesome movie

Monday Momisms: Why It's Wet

Meanwhile in my mothafuckin bathroom, someone is playing in piss water.

When you have a three year old of either gender, boy or girl, there are things you just don't want to know.

But when you have a 3 year old boy,  there are a fuckload of things you don't want to know. Ever.

Things like whether he has chocolate or poop on his hands. You don't need to know what it is, just wash it the hell off. 

Or what he's eating, oh my God what is he eating, can you get his mouth open to see what he's EATING?!

Nope because he just swallowed it. 

It was probably something gross that he found under the couch or outside under a rock, or possibly in his own shoe.

And you especially never ever ever want to know why he's wet. 

Anywhere on his body. 

Ever.

Unless you just pulled him out of the pool or the tub, he is never going to be wet for any reason that isnt fucking disgusting, and you are never going to be happy when you find out the answer. 

So save yourself some Vodka, and just stop asking.

I learned this lesson the hard way last night when I gave Jack his dinner, sat him down at his little table, and started putting groceries away and cleaning the kitchen. 

He has some tater tots with his dinner, and a big cup of water.

My mistake.

I got caught up doing shit {read: distracted by something shiny or edible} and a while later Jack came to me with his plastic airplane that he couldn't get the cockpit open on to put Darth Vader in the captains seat. 

Jack insists that Darth Vader isn't really evil, he's just misunderstood.

Anyway, without looking at the toy first, I held my hand out for it and instantly felt slimy, greasy WET plastic meet my palm and all my fingers.

Without thinking I dropped the toy and yelled "Why the hell is it wet?!"

Jack looked at me and said "Nuffing". Let me be clear: he did not look at me silently. No, he looked at me and responded to my question of why his toy was not only wet but greasy  with "Nuffing".

If he hadn't been 3 I would've been like "THAT IS NO KIND OF ANSWER TO ANY QUESTION OF THIS NATURE EVER" but he is 3 so instead I asked again 

"Jack, why is the plane wet?! Where did you get it wet at?!"

My mind started racing trying to figure out where he could've possibly found water to play in, and the only logical solution came to me: the toilet.

The kids have their own bathroom, and in the middle of eating he had asked to use the bathroom. 

I was too distracted with stupid bullshit to remember when he came back...

It made perfect sense. 

He put his fucking plane, and hands UP TO THE ELBOWS in the toilet and played for God knows how long.

And then I remembered: JACK NEVER FLUSHES THE TOILET EVER.

He played in piss water.

I jumped up and told him to show me where the plane got wet, and as he lead me toward the living room he said "In the big big water thing!" 

In my head I was screaming "HE TOTALLY FUCKING MEANS THE TOILET"

When we got to the dining room he stopped and pointed at his water cup.

In relief I noticed his little table was covered in water, and that's where he must've gotten all wet. 

My relief was quickly dashed however when I picked up his cup to find it full of mashed up tater tots, lettuce from dinner, and his pilot Darth Vader floating in about 3 inches of dirty water.

And that my friends is why you never leave your children alone while they're eating want to know why you're child is wet.

Kids can be so gross.

Our Weekend, Or Dear Channing Tatum: I Get It Now

As usual, no pictures of our amazing weekend were taken, but it was a great weekend none the less.

After a full day of cuddling with Jackson and teaching him how to use chop sticks, {which he picked up like a pro by the way} on Saturday, I spent a wonderful Saturday night with Mr. Becker, including a delicious dinner at Blue Burger in Chandler, and a homemade Pizookie {chocolate chip WALNUT, but who's into semantics?!} and a million and one laughs.

Then Sunday we made breakfast, and went to see 21 Jump Street, which was HILARIOUS.

I almost peed my pants laughing.

And as a side note, I have never considered myself one to like "pretty boys"- you know, Abercrombie and Fitch looking jock types, with the All-American bone structure and pale blue eyes that make any cheerleader drop her under-roos before you can say "Prom Queen", and therefor I have never thought Channing Tatum did much for me, and actually totally didn't understand the fascination with him. To be honest I thought he was kind of a shitty actor who just did sappy, low brow chick flicks like "Dear John" and I honestly considered myself "above" a crush on him.

But for some reason, after 21 Jump Street, ladies: I get it. 

I GET IT.

Anyhow, after the movie Bill and I appropriately stuffed ourselves on some delicious BBQ, and ended our weekend together with a few kisses and several "I Love You's"

I'm telling you, he's just the sweetest.

It's been a relaxing and fun weekend, right before an awesome 4 day work week.

Thank you Good Friday, and Canadian bosses who give us literally every holiday possible off from work.

Except flag day....wtf, why not flag day?!

Happy Sunday.