Bringing the Fat in Fat Tuesday. Really.

You know what I did today? Practically spent the whole day at IHOP.

Because hello! It's also National Pancake Day.

A normal person probably would have gone once. Or maybe just gotten some pancakes to go.

But me?

I went twice. Once for brunch and once for supper. Once with out kids, once with. Once with hashbrowns, once with fake granola.

I managed to scarf down at least 6 pancakes, 4 glasses of water with 2 lemons, a side of hashbrowns and a few crumbs they were trying to pass off as granola. Because when Cash hears that it's Pancake Day, he orders granola & yogurt.

And as if that weren't enough sugar to make your teeth just roll right out of your mouth.....we went home and made a king cake.



I think we've got our bases covered as far as holidays that fall on Tuesday, February 24th, 2009 go. Just call us festive.

And if I were you I'd make sure i hung around Hayden for the rest of the year. He's gonna have some good luck. Hope that means he remembers to save enough quarters to buy the King Cake next year.



By the way, I'm going all out for lent this year. I might even blog it. What am I giving up? You're just gonna have to wait until tomorrow.

Comcast, You've Been Dumped.

Well sorta. I did keep the internet. Because its so, you know, useful.

I downgraded our cable today [ or yesterday for that matter, by the time I got this posted]. That sounds so pretty doesn't it? Downgrading! It was totally romantic.

I'm weirdly excited about it, actually. Just think of the possibilities without Johnny Test and Ben Tennyson to slow me down? Seriously. I'm ok with it. As long as I don't focus too long on how much I'm gonna miss Mike Rowe.

Apparently, the downsize was perfect timing. On the way to school this morning Cash said to me "Mom, it's not fun when we come home from school."

What? It's not fun? No mom wants to hear she's no fun! I'll admit, at first I took this statement to heart. I was pretty sure he was referring to last week, where let's just say, I was not really myself. Between the new four-legged arrivals at our house, all their poop, the impending holiday, the cards that went with the impending holiday, and the fact that I worked out of the house everyday for the first time in 5 years, things got a little....out of place. I wouldn't say our routine got totally turned upside down, but it was definitely lying on its side. And acting totally unresponsive.

I asked him again about his statement. "You mean, I'm no fun?"

"No! I mean we don't do anything fun - we don't have time to before we have to go to bed" he repeated.

"Well it could be because we always end up watching TV when we get home, right? Maybe we could be doing something else? What kinds of things do you want to do?"

"I don't know. Some special thing."

Ok. Great. A special thing. Thanks for the clarification.That could be anything. An un-birthday party? A field trip to a volcano? Where to start? Where to go? What to do?

So as we leave behind Spongebob, Chowder, The Tennysons and The Movers, and start on our journey of time creatively spent, wish us a little luck, and uh, a lot of DVDs.

Hello, Netflix? It's Me, Emily.....

A Little Bathtime Perspective

I came over here ready to rant on bathtime.

I loathe bathtime. It's my least favorite mother/child activity. If I could hire a nanny to come to my house every night just to give my kids a bath, I would. It is the only time I ever wish my kids would just grow up and take a dang shower already.

But on my way over here I stopped by Suburban Turmoil. She had posted a short post about a reader and fellow blogger who had just lost her infant son a few days before his due date.

Suddenly my rant seemed so trite and trivial, so unnecessary. How blessed am I to even have the chance to bathe my children? To be able to hug them afterwards and sniff that sweet after-bath smell, to be able to wake up the next morning and do it all over again...day after day. It doesn't matter if it seems mundane or routine, what matters is that I get the chance to even do it at all.

I don't usually post things like this, but I felt I couldn't read her story, say my prayer and move on. I needed to share it. I needed the perspective it gave me. My stumbling upon her story seemed more to me than just a click or a coincidence.

I simply can't imagine the pain and heartbreak of losing a child before I barely even had the chance to meet him. My heart and my prayers go out to Cynthiaa and her family. Hug your kids just a little tighter tonight, try to stop and enjoy the fact that your kids are driving you nuts, revel in how blessed you are to be in that moment.



If you'd like, you can leave your thoughts and prayers for Cynthiaa on her blog here.

Snow Way!

I was so on track this morning. Lunches were made. We weren't out of juice. I was able to convince Cash that his eyes really could remember how to open and our usual wardrobe scuffle was rather minor.

But just as I was starting to feel pretty confident about the way things were going, my phone rang. It was either get everybody's shoes on or answer it, so I missed it. I checked the voicemail only to hear the latter half of a recorded message from the school...."uary 28th" was pretty much all I heard.

I thought for a minute, maybe they cancelled school? But no, it was just raining outside, surely not. I checked the county website. Nothing. I checked the clock. 7:18. Now, we were officially running late. When did that happen? Should I check the news? Or should I get in the car?

Because I delight in the difficult, I decided to get in the car. I mean who wouldn't find it easier to load two cranky 5 year olds in to a chilly car in the freezing rain, while carrying one open drink, two back packs and an overflowing purse instead of oh, i don't know just flipping on the TV and changing the channel? Me. That's who.

So we drove to school. Hayden and I chatted. Cash slept. I saw cars pulling out of the other elementary school parking lot as if they had just dropped off their kids. I felt relaxed that surely, I hadn't missed anything. Sure, we were late, and they were going to be 'tardy'. But hey, we made it. And that was no small feat.

I turned the corner towards their school, and that's when I noticed there was no crossing guard. Hmm. Must have stayed home today, I thought.

And then I pulled into the school parking lot.

Which was empty.

I pulled into a space and walked to the front door. Because surely, somebody was there.

Doors locked. Lights off.

Turns out we weren't late. We were uh, early?

No, I certainly had not missed the fact that school had been cancelled and dragged my kids to school anyway, insisting we were going to be late.

No. That wasn't it at all.

The real truth is that I'm ahead of the game. For Thursday.

Just a Bunch of Winners

I'm a winner.

A few weeks ago I was reading one of my favorite blogs, Rock and Roll Mama, by the ever-awesome Lindsay Maines, who writes beautifully about both music and mommyhood. She writes one of the few blogs I actually ever comment on and you'll never believe what happened.

Apparently, my comments? They were soooo riveting that I actually won an award! Yes, it is totally true, I really won something!

Ok, well, maybe it was more like she awarded a Starbucks Card to the fifth commenter, who I just happened to be, but whatever, Y'all! I. Am. A. Winner! [Did I really just TYPE y'all? Oh yes, I did.] Here's the proof:



You'll be happy to know I spent it wisely. On something warm and all mocha-like. A long time ago. With this gal.

Yummy.

And It appears this winning streak has rubbed off on my kiddos too.

I took the boys to an after-school activity this afternoon at their school library put on by Read to Succeed. There was a craft, a story, games, snacks, and a drawing for a prize. 3 prizes actually.

I figured we had a pretty good chance of winning, considering I had one more kid there then every other parent. I can't tell you what kind of winning percentage that would give me of course, because I'm no good at the math stuff. But that's not important anyway.

What IS important is that we won. Well, at least Cash did. We are now the proud owners of a lovely, fluffy, Build-A-Bear brand dog.

[be sure to note the conflicting expressions on my children's faces...]

A dog now affectionately known as "Fluffy Doggie" partly because we're obviously super creative with our stuffed animal names around here [like Deer, Catty and Black Doggie, for instance] and partly because I think Cash is deliberately trying to rub his winnings in Hayden's face by constantly remarking on the furry texture of his new best friend.

I'd be lying if I told you all was well in our house after this big win. Suddenly, and for Hayden at least, every toy we already own paled in comparison to the Mighty Fluffy One. This included both of the Build-A-Bears we already had, anything with a remote and even *gasp* the Bat Cave.

I feel bad for Hayden, I really do. I know it has to suck to watch your brother win, while you get nothing but the two free books everybody else got. But at the same time, losing is a part of life that we all have to get used to, and I don't want to sugar-coat this experience so much that we miss the life-lesson entirely.

So what's a mom to do? I did what any mom would, I entered another contest to win a $25 Build-A-Bear gift card.

Problem solved. Sorta.

C'mon Lady Luck! Momma needs a new pair of uh.....paws? Preferably ones that can fit in a pair of bear-sized sneakers?

Dearest Husband...

While you were busy shutting down the city last night in the Big Apple, I was busy trying to avoid going to bed alone.

I watched Leno make fun of McCain, Letterman discuss the economy with Bill Clinton, and Craig Ferguson whisper about a hot girl in a shiny dress.

I was dreading that moment when I have to trudge up the stairs, turn off all the lights, and be serenaded to sleep by that unnerving combination of total silence and the annoying hum of the boy's 'fishy' light.

I dislike this moment partly because I miss you, and want to be sure you are safe where ever you are, and partly because I'm almost positive that surely this has to be the time, while I'm here alone in a quiet house, that green people from another planet will appear to whisk me away on a not-so-fun excursion into the outer limits [thanks to that chip they implanted in my nose 15 years ago in Colorado. STACY.].

But after a few conversations with you by the romantic light of text, and after firmly affixing my aluminum foil hat upon my head, I finally managed to settle in for a good night's sleep.

I tried to enjoy the fact that I could sprawl out across the entire bed without any complaints from anybody about my freezing 'are you sure you took your shoes off?' feet touching theirs.

I rolled around a bit, trying to find that perfect spot for slumber. Just when I was about to give up I stumbled upon one of the most heavenly sleep spots I'd ever encountered. It was as if I'd instantly been carried away on the backs of fleecy little sheep and plopped right down onto a cloud of the fluffiest cotton.

It was your side of the bed.

I couldn't believe you'd been keeping this from me. You'd been hoarding this little slice of heaven all this time and I didn't even know? No wonder you dosed off every time I started into another bedtime discussion on whether I should teach the boys how to tie their shoes, or maybe just invest in a lifetime supply of Vans.

To think, all this time I just thought you were tuning me out. I'm crazy, I know it. And I took all your snoring and sleep talking as a sign of agreement on this fact.

Little did I know your were being lured luxuriously into a blissful sleep by the siren song of the tranquility that is your side of the bed.

I did my best to stay up, trying to sleepily piece together a tirade on this injustice of this situation.

Alas, it was too late, I'd flirted with the fluff, and now the sandman was here. I tried to fight it, but it was no use, I was already drooling.

All over your fluffy pillows.

Terror by the Dinner Table

I like Halloween.

I like the bats and the fangs.

The black cats.

The skeletons.

And oh yeah, the costumes.

Pumpkins, you're ok too, but do you have to be so grody on the inside?

Yes, we're getting geared up in this house for All Hallow's Eve.

The decorations are up...



the costumes have been purchased [and the poses mastered]...



the treats are being discussed, and the pumpkin patch is being visited [tomorrow. with 100 other kids. and I'm chaperoning. talk about terrifying].

Oh how I love to get my kids all jazzed about Halloween. After all, you just can't knock a holiday where you get to wear a ridiculous outfit and be rewarded for it with sugar. Loads and loads of sugar.

However. I am starting to scare myself [appropriate I guess, considering the spirit of the season and all] because last night, I extended our celebration right into our diet.

No, we didn't eat candy corn ala mode or candy apple souffle. Worse.

We had this:


Mummies in a Blanket!!!!!

Horrific, isn't it? Next thing you know I'm going to start wearing embroidered jack o' lantern sweat sets and light-up ghost earrings.

I'm scared for myself I really am.

So if you see me in the next few weeks and I say something ridiculous like " Ghoul morning, my pretty!" or "You look BOOtiful, daahhhling!", please, do me a favor and put me out of my spooky misery, commit me to holiday rehab before I spend all my money on a over-sized, hand-woven cornucopia...

As soon as my cauldron fizzles out, I'll thank you for it.

Maybe [she types, while cackling uncomfortably....].

Yeah. I definitely need some help.

Cheerio...Cheerios

My dear Cheerios,

I'm so over you.

I just can't take it anymore.

I loathe seeing you sitting around on the couch.

I abhor the way you manage to always adhere to the butt of all my pants.

I detest the sound of you hitting the floor and I despise the crunch of you under my feet.

I hate the way I think you're gone, and then there you are again, hanging out under the couch, behind the bookcase, in the bathroom, or driving a dump truck in the playroom.

You know what's coming. I'm kicking you out again. Banning you from breakfast.

The dust buster and I? We've had it. It's high time we took a break from your bran.

*sigh*

I try to act so tough, but you know in the end [or in a few weeks when we've had our fill of waffles] I'll always take you back. I just can't resist those honey nuts or those fruity tendencies [but the yogurt? gross] . Lucky for you I'm fickle, I tend to forget your irritating crunch under my feet and only remember your sweet aftertaste when faced with the prospect of getting a free race car in return.

O, my little o's, how I love to hate...

...and hate to love.

And So Goes My RollerCoaster Ride

A week ago my kids turned five.



2 weeks ago they started school.



Considering I am usually quite the emotional mamajama [I've cried at Kill Bill, you know], these milestones did not affect me the way I thought they might. I had originally imagined that the first day of school would be bad, really bad. I just knew the ugly cry would come out, snot and all, and I'd be forced to wipe my nose on the teacher's shoulder as she tried to comfort me.

I'd thought their birthday would send me into a downward spiral, one in which I might actually long for the return of pacies and diapers. Instead, that first day was downright giddy, and I actually felt comfort and relaxation, [relief even!] as we left them in their classroom. And on their birthday [and the subsequent birthday week], I was full of enthusiasm and pride .

Until last Friday, of course.

Last Friday was one of the first days in which we had to drop off the boys in the car line [the first week, you walk your child[ren] into school]. I hadn't really thought much about the difference, other than a few days worth of preparing the boys for the task of walking to class by themselves.

When we pulled into the school parking lot that morning, I was a little nervous, expecting some sort of "No way am I getting out of this car alone" sort of scenario, possibly with screaming, and maybe a kick or two. I held my breath and closed one eye [because that what everybody does, right?] as the door opened.

Much to my surprise, it was silent, except for the shuffling of backpacks, as the boys jumped right out without so much as a wink or a wave.

I have to admit I was impressed. But nothing could have prepared me for what I saw next in the rear view mirror.

There they were. My two boys. Walking confidently across the school parking lot towards the door. Looking so astute, so self-sufficient and self-assured with every step. Oh, the horror of it all!

It hit me all at once, crashing into me with the blunt force of a homework folder. I have five year olds!! They go to school every day!! Who am I and who's life is this?? Did i remember to turn off the faucet after brushing my teeth??

My little mommy heart broke into a million pieces.

I watched until I couldn't see them anymore. Feeling like maybe they'd turn around and run my way, or maybe, at least throw up a goodbye or something. Anything. But I got nothing.

Except heartbreak.
Whiny, self-pitying, snotty, lump in my throat, mommy's getting left behind heartbreak.

How could they? Leaving me home alone to actually finish a cup of coffee and take an uninterrupted shower? How could they be so heartless to let me put my clothes on without having to referee a fight pantsless, in the middle of getting dressed? Or God forbid, how dare they leave me alone with enough time to actually get some work done?

And all of this while they trot off and get an education? Getting smarter with every passing minute? Making me enjoy each day with them more than I ever have before?

Yeah. My life totally sucks.

Code Donald

I have a little temper.

I dislike this temper, I don't like it when she comes around.

She usually comes out of nowhere, and I always regret her arrival.

She tends to show up after tripping over a pile of sharp plastic policemen or after stepping in a puddle of something that shouldn't have been there.

She is my arch enemy, my evil nemesis, and I wish she would just stay away.

But as every mom knows, some days, the poo just happens, the temper flares and mommy turns out to being the one who needs a time out.

I do my best to make light of the situation, I may have made a mistake, you know, throwing that cereal box at the wall, but heck, we all might as well learn from it, right?

Since Mickey Mouse is numero uno in this household, I chose the Disney route.

I started comparing my temper to Donald Duck's. Every time he would come on the screen squawking up a storm I would say "Hmmmm, who does that remind you of?" And without hesitation, the boys would chime in "You, Mommy!" Nice. I mean, I'd intended for it to take a few times before they truly made the comparison, but right away? Wow, I must be worse than I thought.

I tried to explain to them that Mommy doesn't like to lose her temper, and when she does lose it, she just looks silly, like Donald does. I told them I needed their help, I needed them to let me know when I was starting to go off to the deep end. I didn't really give them specific instructions on exactly how to let me know, I simply indicated that I wanted their help.

Surprisingly,it actually worked! Whenever the volume of my voice gets louder in anger, or I raise my arm to launch something in disgust you'll hear, "Donald Duck, Mommy! Donald Duck!!!!!" being shouted from all corners of the house (sometimes a 'be nice' is thrown in for good measure). I guess you could call it a 'Code Donald'.

Usually the reminder is so frantic and amusing in nature that we can't help but laugh. Whatever I was angry about starts to slip away, apologies are said, and we can start to ease back into actually enjoying each others company.

I'm not proud of my temper at all, in fact I can't stand it. But I can acknowledge it, and try to make the best of the situation. Hopefully, we're all learning something from this.You know, something more than how far a cheerio box can fly without sprouting wings.

Oh That's Right, I Have TWO Kids.

Sometimes I forget I have twins. Sounds crazy I know, how could I possibly forget those two? After all, they are kind of hard to miss.

I've never known what it was like to have just one child. Its always been more than one, right from the beginning. There's always been two of everything. Two cribs, two baby seats, two highchairs, double the clothes...It was hard at first (I think? I don't really remember...) but eventually it just becomes the norm. Even if the norm teeters on the verge of total chaos.

So, how do I best describe this? I of course realize my children are two separate individuals, and I treat them that way as well, but because 2-at-a-time is the way its always been, I tend to think of them in the broader sense as one entity. As most of my friends are having their second child, I sometimes think to myself, "Hmmm, am I ready for another?" And then I remember - Oh wait, I already had my second child - he just happened to come one minute after the first.

I wouldn't have it any other way either. Having twins has been the ride of my life and I know it will only get better at every turn.

But there is one time, one glaringly obvious time, when the, um, true joy, of having two at the same age really comes into play.
It one of those times when the planets align just right, the wind comes to a halt and two tiny, but forceful auras crash together at full speed. Otherwise know as a full-fledged double temper tantrum.

Oh sweet Lord in heaven, the double tantrums.

Remember that part in Princess Bride when Wesley is in the pit of despair having the life sucked out of him by the medieval torture machine? Yeah. That's kind of what it's like. You're being pulled in every direction, years are being taken off your life by the minute, you can't tell which way is up, and the pain (from the screaming of course) is only a sliver away from unbearable.

We had one such moment just yesterday. I'm not quite even sure what started it - something to do with spiders? It was a classic moment really, screaming, snot running, arms flailing, legs kicking, hitting, and the best part?

It was at somebody else's house.

No, we couldn't just throw the tantrum to end all tantrums within our house. No way, Mom! It just had to be at someone else's place, and hey, while we're at it, why not just do it in the backyard? We already have a small auidence, might as well get the whole neighborhood involved.

Yes, it was definitely one of those moments when you feel like tossing motherhood to the very top of the 'things I never want to do ever again' list. I had the towel and I was ready to throw it in. The whole thing may have only lasted 10 minutes, but every parent knows, it felt like ten hours. Thankfully, life does go on, my children do behave (sometimes) and I did survive, and someday, in that sick, sweet, motherly way, I'll probably miss it.

High School Preschool

When I dropped the boys off at preschool yesterday morning the teacher was asking all the kids what they were going to be for Halloween.

Yet, somehow the conversation quickly switched over to High School Musical. All the kids were giddily discussing how they had just watched the sequel the night before. One little girl was waxing on and on, very poetically I might add, about all her favorite scenes.

And I thought to myself, seriously? High School Musical? Every kid in this class is four. Aren't they supposed to be discussing if blue is better than green or if chocolate milk is better than regular milk? My kids would rather have their heads shaved then sit through HSM. If what's on TV isn't about the alphabet or flatulence, they're not going to watch it.

It was kind of surreal, as if I was witnessing in person that first moment when my kids had no idea what TV show all the other kids were talking about. And that's OK, really, its bound to happen sometime. I just didn't think it would be in preschool. I mean, I remember trying to stay cool in 8th grade by keeping up with In Living Color, but I certainly don't remember any extensive discussions about the latest Letter People episode in kindergarten.

Sigh...just another sign that my babies are not babies anymore. Next thing I know they'll be begging me for IPods and video games and things I can't even imagine yet. I better enjoy all the Sesame Street and SpongeBob while I can....