God Help Me It's Picture Day

Of COURSE I ran into some snags this morning getting Ava into her adorable outfit that I purchased solely for her pictures today. Of COURSE. It's on her, it's cute, it's colorful, she loves it. Then I pull out the large, deep container that holds her dozens of hair bows. Good God. None match. None. I couldn't find ONE to even come close to the pink she had on. Ok, it's just a bow, no biggie. Deep breath. Next... shoes. I have the perfect shoes for this outfit. But will she wear them? No. The answer is no. They hurt her heel. All of the cute shoes she owns she won't wear because they hurt her heel. Perhaps it's my DNA inside her body that tells her right foot to be a tad larger and wider than the other. Just a tad, she's not a freak of nature. But just enough of a freak of nature for the perfect pair of shoes to go back into her closet, far far away from the feet they belong on. So. Change of plans. I tear off the outfit she had on, all the while Grace is banging her forehead on the hard tile floor because she wants to be held... I run to Ava's closet and rip a dress of a hanger and pull it over her head in a huge hurry. Perfect! I know I have a bow for this! It's now on her head. Shoes! Please Lord. I don't have time for this. [Grace, PLEASE stop hitting your head on the hardest piece of furniture in this house.] The shoes for the dress go back in her closest because she won't wear them without socks. Fiiiiiine. Wear the dorkiest shoes possible with this adorable dress. I don't care. When your little 3 year old friends are at recess and you hear whispers...maybe you'll listen next time. You're a girl. A little pain is a very small price to pay to look totally cute in the most perfect picture day outfit I now bought for no reason.

I had a 10$ bill in my pocket this morning, too bad I didn't have the nerve then and slip it in the hand of the photog to take the pic from the waist up. Pics aren't until 11am... I gotta go... there's something I have to do.

The Eyes of Texas Are Upon You

Today was lovely. I went to the Texas game with one of my favorite people, my Granmom. We enjoyed lunch together, chit chatting and laughing, then it was off to the game. The weather could not have been better! We were in the shade and felt a nice breeze the entire afternoon.

It was a wonderful day. :)

Welcome Your Madjesty! Pardon the Mess.

I just know Ava's preschool teacher thinks I'm a smelly pirate hooker. Maybe not so much a pirate. or a hooker. and probably not smelly. Perhaps just........dirty. When Gracie was a little non-mobile ball of pudge, I'd plop her in the excersaucer or bouncy chair and spend like an hour getting ready in the morning before leaving to take Ava to preschool. I would be perfectly put together with shiny makeup, bangle bracelets and the perfect necklace to match the perfectly coordinated shoes I was wearing and head out the door with the fresh springy scent of perfume trailing behind me. My how quickly things change. Now basically all I do for the two days a week Ava has school is brush my teeth, throw on a bra and head out the door with coffee breath and muffin crumbs all over myself because instead of using a napkin for their faces, I used the closest napkin I can find -- my shirt. I've actually not cared one bit and slipped on black flip flops when my tee-shirt was brown. Eeek! What have I become?!

I'll tell you...Smart. Relaxed. Coooool as a cucumber.


When it was only Ava, the house was immaculate all of the time, toys picked up, I showered every single morning like clock work and things were very much under control. Then add another little chitlin to the mix. Two's not that hard, don't get me wrong.... but when the two are 17 months old and 1 month old; It can get a bit outta control in one hell of a hurry if you know what I mean. So, I learned instead of picking up toys and crap 10 times a day and loading dish after dish every 2 hours when the kids snacked, to just let the dishes pile up in the sink and do them in one visit to the kitchen later in the day. I left their rooms messy and cleaned it all up he end of the day. I walked past the trail of baby things and dropped cheerios in the hallway and picked them all up at once, and not allll dayyy lonnng. Who ever said procrastination was a bad habit? In my case, it's common sense.


It used to drive me crazy at first, knowing things were messy, then I let go and realized: UH... it's JUST US here. MTV Cribs isn't gonna stop by and surprise me with a video run-through of my house. And I'm pretty sure the Queen of England isn't flying over for tea and crumpets at any given moment, so I need to stop flipping the frick out. And boy does it make a difference. I'm calmer and less stressed. We have kids! And I want my kids to be kids - so messes will be made and crayons and cheerios and magnets and dolls will be all over the place. The fact that two happy, funny, curious and hyper children live in this house is very evident. I'm proud of that.

Squeaky Clean

Grace made an executive decision when we turned our heads....bath time was not yet over for the evening.

Grace's Magic Trick and a Journey into Another Dimension

Enough is enough you little toot. I give up. Now show me your trick.

I've sat Grace down several times this morning to get her to tell me where on Earth she put the remote for the living room TV. She answers with: "What's That" and then Mooooo's at me. It's gone. Disappeared. Vanished into thin air. We checked trash cans, toy bins, drawers, under couches, laundry baskets, it's NO WHERE TO BE FOUND. The remote for our bedroom TV doubles as a replacement but it won't work the volume. We actually have to walk ALLLL THEEEE WAYYYYY over to the set to adjust it by gasp! hand. Torture. Thank God we have the other one because if I was unable (God forbid) to get to channel 150 for Little Bill or Max and Ruby - the kids would over throw the household and we would be at their mercy. We don't want that. No. We. Don't. So, until we find the remote or order a new one I will continue to walk 8 steps there and back, way out of my way, 15 times a day to adjust the volume. I'm unsure how much longer I can actually function under these conditions.

Speaking of functioning under these conditions, when we returned from out of town Sunday afternoon we expected to walk in our front door to find my mom half dressed and disheveled, chasing Grace around, and for the whole house to be in disarray. No. Not so much. Instead we walked into a strange scent I didn't recognize.........candles.... And air freshener. And that fluffy fabric softener smell. Oh how I love fluffy fabric softener smell. Mmmmm. And jazz music playing from the television. WHAT KIND OF CALM SHIT IS GOING ON IN THIS HOUSE AND HOW COME I CAN'T MAKE THAT HAPPEN???!!! OR BE HERE WHILE THAT SHIT IS HAPPENING?

My laundry was all folded perfectly on the dryer, every inch of kitchen counter was twinkling from lemon-scented 409. Shit straight out of the Twilight Zone.

Family Weekend at Lost Pines

We're back from our relaxing weekend at the Hyatt Lost Pines Resort & Spa! I think snapping 235+ pictures is an indication it was astonishingly gorgeous and loads fun! This was our 2nd annual trip and we couldn't have asked for more perfect weather. Last year was terribly hot and it took a lot out of Ava and Grace at the end of each day. This time around it was just me, Terry and Ava that made the trip. Our Little Pea Pod stayed here at home and her honorary Aunties watched over her a portion of the weekend, and her Grandma covered the tail end.

Here's a peek into Toni and Annemarie's Adventure in Babysitting. :)

If you haven't been out to visit Lost Pines, I highly recommend it. The location is close for anyone in or around Austin and well worth the drive if you are further out. It's breathtaking and perfect for a romantic getaway with you and your lovey, or taking the kids for a weekend of fishing, splashing, running, pony riding and smores! Fun to be had for all.

We were pooped at the end of each day after laughing hard and playing harder. Plenty of fun and and memories made! (my camera was in over-drive that's 'fo sho!)

Wonder what next year will bring. :)

~Click here for all of the pictures~

Lovely Little Hump Day Factoids

• Getting excited at the grocery store after finding the maple syrup my grandma used to put on my pancakes as a child. My excitement quickly deflated when I noticed it's 4x the amount of Log Cabin. No wonder it tasted so good. It was fancy.

• Realizing strangers are quite comfortable making rude remarks when your 17 month old has a terrible bruise on her cheek. And her forehead.

• Annie's Organic Balsamic Vinaigrette is the best on the planet.

• Our weather men here in central Texas are morons.

• Pretty pink periwinkles die when you forget to water them.

• Being on time is wonderful. But being the only person on time, all the time, is irritating.

• Watching your large, old basset hound slide down a swirly slide is not funny, but cruel. Especially setting the dog at the top of the slide and allowing for that to happen.

• It's gross when you find one of your cats eating something your other cat threw up.

• Taking a dead fly you find indoors and putting it outside to 'be with his family' is the right thing to do when you have a 3 year old. Telling them No, Slippers and Joey will find and eat it, is not.

• 2 kids in preschool next month will be strange. Eating lunch at Luby's 2x a week w/out kids will be heaven. I'm a Luby's kinda girl.

• USAA homeowners insurance rocks. Especially when your roof needs replaced.

• Bullet points are fun and never get old.

Brain Power

Check out the big brain on... US! All of us crazy kids played a friendly game of Cranium on Saturday night at Annemarie's - and considering the difficult nature of A TON of the questions, we all did pretty well! All shall I say... except for one team in particular. But pointing fingers is rude I won't say names. Blue Team :)

After a while, Molly came out to visit and joined in to help Terry on a Hum-dinger. She and he didn't agree on the answer, but since she participated she was allowed in the picture.

I think everyone got a major ab workout from all of the hysterics and laughter. :)

Loved hanging out you guys! When's the next round?

xoxo

O.C.D or Nutty as a Fruitcake?

I am not an OCD type of person. But, I love nothing more than to wake up in the morning, pour a cup of coffee and have things in their place well before The Tornado's wake up. I usually straighten up the house in the evenings after The Tornado's are asleep, but I am by no means, a complete clean freak.

Target called my name this morning, I came up with the excuse we needed 'supplies' for the incoming hurricane. Even though we are 220 miles from Galveston. You can't be too careful you know. I figured we'd hunker down here with the necessities: milk, eggs, bread, Pillsbury ready to bake cookies, that bad ass popcorn I'm not telling you the name of, and more care bear band-aids. I found out the hard way we were out when Ava informed me Baby had a boo boo. Anytime a boo boo presents itself on her beloved Baby, a band-aid must be placed atop the wound asap OR ALL FLIPPING HELL WILL BREAK LOOSE AND BABY WILL SURELY DIE A TERRIBLE BLOODY DEATH. Ava was less than pleased when Baby was forced to tough it out.

As I'm browsing the greeting cards looking for a certain one... my worst nightmare is unfolding right before my eyes. Cards are being plucked out for viewing and NOT returned to their rightful homes. Hate it. Can't stand it. Why must people do this? How hard is it to place the damn thing where it belongs? Seriously. Major pet peeve.

Maybe I do have OCD. But only in the Greeting Card Department. Oh. And my car. My car is spic-n-span at all times. Nothing on the floorboards, always vacuumed, tires always shiny. It's habit. And with two tornado's, it helps me keep my sanity. They are crazy enough at times, I don't need massive messes to make things even crazier.

Oh. And my bed. I make my bed right after jumping out in the morning. I don't actually jump out of bed. I usually slide out of it like a snail crawling down the side, to go fetch The Tornado's that are talking to each other thru the wall that separates their bedrooms. I just feel like if the bed is made, it makes everything else look that much cleaner. Hmmm. When are you for sure you have OCD anyway? Do you have to be clean freak in EVERY aspect of your life, or just say... 3?

Or maybe 4. The girls rooms. I feel like I pick up their rooms allll dayyyy lonnnggg. But, I do allow them to make messes and actually PLAY with their toys, because that's what their rooms are for. But, having their floors covered with crap makes me nutty.

Perhaps I do have a bit of a compulsion with keeping certain things tidy. It's not like I follow Slippers and Joey around and wipe their dirty butts after they leap from their litter box. That would make me a raving lunatic! That's disgusting y'all! That's insane. NEVER would I do that.

I wonder if they make potty-wipes for cats. Maybe I'm onto something here! OMG. I just thought of a purrrfect name. "Meowlettes." There are plenty of crazy cat freaks in this world that would buy those wipes in a heartbeat. I probably belong in an insane asylum for actually thinking of such a concept, but I would never actually USE them. Nope. Never. Nuuh-uhh.

I Feel Like I'm Taking Crazy Pills

If I had enough energy, I would log onto Thesaurus.com to adequately describe just how crappy I feel, but I'm so out of it I can only use the small words already in my brain. And they are now all jumbled together because I'm taking DayQuil and you all know what happened the last time I took it.

After the girls were born, I was given hydrocodone for pain. I cracked up when I saw the dosage information on my pill bottle. Take 1 or 2 pills every 4 hours. Yea. OK.

The first night home with Ava was insane. My wahoo felt like mack trucks had been driving in and out of it for dayyyys. Not pleasant. So, I found my pill bottle and swallowed 2 hydrocodone. Within 15 minutes, I was the Mayor of Crazy Town. While my mom and Terry were on the couch watching Monster-In-Law, I was staring into space, with my heart beating a bazillion miles a minute. If I hadn't told my mom that I thought I was having a terrible reaction to this medicine, and allowed her to tuck me in to help sleep it off, I would have stapled fairy wings to my shoulders and attempted to fly off my roof.

I've stayed away from hydrocodone ever since. Probably a good idea.

I'm All Kinds Of Eff'd Up

Prison life scares the tee tee out of me. I'm hoping that all of the other decent human beings on this earth feel the exact same way. But I might have a deeper fear for it than perhaps the rest of the human population. Maybe I was a felon in a former life, or maybe it's the scummy cells, or maybe it's the chance a pissed off fellow inmate could plunge a rusty shank into my jugular that freaks my shit out. Either way, me no likee prison.

I do however, LOVE prison shows. Not that Prison Break crap. I'm talking raw, hard core prison life documentaries. Where Big-Tex killed a man with a piece of plastic lunch tray he whittled into a knife, then cut the dead guy up into little pieces and flushed each one down his cell's toilet. THAT kind of prison show.

I watch those on MSNBC Investigates, but have seen every single one and am now ready for something different. Oh, my friends. Have I got a sweet treat for you. I've stumbled upon a gem of a prison/locked-up/your-so-screwed documentary. It's been on for several months now and I DVR every episode. Locked Up Abroad. On Nat Geo. Ok. Here's the deal. The majority of the 'victims' in this documentary typically get themselves into trouble on their own, via drug trafficking or smuggling in other countries then end up behind bars in that country. Some of the scenarios involve innocent adventurers who stray too far off the beaten path and find themselves held hostage, "locked up abroad." One recent episode showed two missionaries who were just cold kidnapped by Islamic extremists while working in the Philippines. Hell to the no y'all! Scary shit!

And yet I love it so. One guy swallowed 67 condoms of cocaine and strapped the rest to his chest before leaving Australia for Taiwan to offload the drugs and have a major pay day. Just before passing through airport security to freedom and tons-o-money he was selected for a random pat down. Turns out Australia frowns on that sort of thing. (He had to have surgery to remove the drugs lodged in his intestines. YUM-O.)

Is it troubling I thouroughly enjoy a documentary that illustrates people’s frightening experiences abroad? The answer my friends is no. Cuz you know you like watching that kind of filth too.

Here are the Top 3 most thrilling episodes I've watched thus far:

*The story of a British couple who were caught trafficking drugs from Costa Rica to Amsterdam during a layover in Mexico City and sentenced to 10 years in a Mexican prison. UM. Hi!! Welcome to Mexico!

*Two men recall the four-and-a-half years they spent in a violent Venezuelan prison after they got caught up in an international drug-smuggling ring.

*The story of two American women who were caught trafficking cocaine from Peru and sentenced to six years in a Peruvian prison.
UHHHHH. I would beg inmates to knock me the eff out everytime I woke up. I'd rather be unconscious those six years.

Thank you Nat Geo for bringing such love to my life. You're my new BFF.

Yes. But There's a Crack. RIGHT HERE.

I frequent a certain children's consignment store and am there all the time. We are blessed with two healthy children and have pretty much decided two is our lucky number. With that being said, clothes/shoes/toys/equipment/crap I have from the girls is slowly starting to trickle out of the house. I've donated a ton of stuff and given some away to friends, and instead of piling everything else into a boxes or bags to drop off at Goodwill, I am trying to consign the nice stuff.


So, yesterday I was at the store to pick up the remaining items I'd dropped off for consignment, and found they'd 'passed' on a few of my items. I found myself feeling a tad bitter about WHY they passed on them. Knowing the store is at least 300% over capacity, yet insanely organized, I felt somewhat snubbed that my cute little blue hippo walker was not added to their inventory! It's in immaculate condition... but it now included a look-at-me, neon pink post-it telling the world it wasn't not good enough to be re-sold. Also included in the bag of not-good-enough items included two perfectly new pairs of shoes and a great big boppy. I imagine they passed on the boppy due to the fact there could very well be crusty dried up breast milk or baby barf all over it. Mmmmm. But I washed it prior to dropping it off and it was covered in a gorgeous, plush, blush and bashful pink is my signature color cover.


But seriously, why is it I feel somewhat inadequate when they hand me my bag of denied items? I understand they are slammed with crap every single day and have no room and make no money off used boppy's, but come on! I need a hefty credit y'all, so I can buy some of your new hair bows that are extremely over priced but adorable atop my children's heads.


As I'm gathering my bag of denied items I notice a woman at the counter who went directly into bitch-mode when told she wouldn't receive a discount for a chair with a tiny crack down one of the legs. The bitchy lady wanted that chair like a fat kid wants cake but went ballistic on the sales person when told it is sold 'as is'. Uh. Hey Bitch... You are IN A CONSIGNMENT STORE. Everything here (besides the terribly over priced hair bows) IS USED. There's no need to flip your lid and point your dirty index finger with that weird crooked nail saying SEE, RIGHT HERE, THERE'S A CRACK. They see the crack, lady, and you're about to get cracked upside your skull if you don't hush it. I'm assuming that's what would have happened if she kept up her bitching. That didn't happen, however, she just pouted and informed the sales person, I'll pass. SINCE IT'S CRACKED.

Ooooohhh. You get 'em girl. Way to win. With you passing on that $12.99 chair, they just might go out of business this weekend.

Tonight's Winning Lotto Numbers Are....

not mine.

Every damn time. Why is it I feel like I've won even before the numbers have even been announced? It's not fair that the lottery lets you skip all jolly-like out of the gas station with your crisp lotto ticket in hand, hop into you car and imagine on the drive home how shiny and sparkly your life will be when all 6 of your numbers are called.

I always know I've won when I buy my ticket. I can feel it. Then I wake up bright and early, log onto the computer and find out not one of my damn numbers match. I always email Terry and tell him we didn't win. As if he assumed we did win and I'm just sittin' at home... drinkin' some coffee... takin' the girls to a play date and waitin' until 5:45 to let him in on my 25 million dollar secret. Uh. No. I'd probably spazz out and faint at the computer and as I'm falling out of my chair notice my coffee is coming down with me and omg! it spilled all over my ticket and now it's ruined and we have no proof and I've knocked myself out and wake up to Joey performing mouth to mouth because he loves me that much.

Maybe not that particular scenario but I'm sure I would do something dramatic if I did have 6 matching numbers. Like pay full price on stuff. Or not lie when we go to bouncy land and say Grace is really 16 months instead of 'just shy of a year'. But I get that from my dad, he always made me stand on his shoes to become a tad taller to get onto roller coasters I was WAY TOO LITTLE for, and tell me to say I was 10 when I was like 16 to get a free kids meal.
It didn't hurt that I looked about 10 years old when I was 16.

I'll buy a couple of tickets this Saturday and you bet your boots I will fly onto the computer in the morning to check my numbers. I'll have my trusty pink marker in hand waiting to circle all my matches. Then I'll drag myself into the kitchen to tell Terry we didn't win. Again.

Step Off Your High Horse, Jerko.

"How-Do Neighbors!" That's how the beginning of this months neighborhood newsletter began. Not sure what that actually means, but it's pretty upbeat, wouldn't you say? Written by Jerko on the pool committee. That 3 word sentence turned out to be the only positive part of an article he wrote in attempt to remind the residents of my neighborhood to follow the rules when using the community swimming pool. He spent the rest of it bashing everyone and schooling us on what not to do.

Let's begin, shall we?

The article is titled Pool Updates and has bullets with important information we as residents should always remember. Jerko writes it exactly as I have it written below.

1. Adult swim the last 10 minutes of every hour.
ALL children must take a 10 minute rest period every hour. ALL means just that. ALL. Yours don't get an exemption just because you're in the water with them. PLEASE set a good example for your children and make them follow the rules.

MUST you use caps to relay your rude message angry old man? Everyone knows that caps dictates yelling and sets an angry tone. MUST you flip out and get your panties in a wad and YELL assuming we are complete idiots? We know what all means, Lord knows you don't have to print it 3 times to get our attention. We heard you the first time. Get a grip and stop being so bossy.

2. No glass in the pool area.
The risk of breakage around a lot of bare feet is a safety hazard that is 100% avoidable.
So, let' s avoid it.

So, let's avoid it?? Umm, there a more polite way of addressing hundreds of people when maybe like 3 have violated this glass around the pool situation. Not all of us have disobeyed your rule Jerko. Please don't utilize the italics function to stress your very patronizing point.

3. No alcohol in the pool area.
(The below is Jerko's bullet point, verbatim.)
Did you know that an over indulgence in alcohol will suppress your brain's perceived need for air? Well, it's true, and if you decide that you don't need to come up for air, and you've been drinking, and your under water... what do you think the risk is there? That's right - you could pass out right there under water. Then your automatic breathing mechanism will kick in anyway. What do you think the result will be then?? Let's just avoid that risk too, shall we?

WTF! Are you being serious? Where did you come up with that ridiculous scenario?? We are not in 7th grade Jerko! We don't need what-if scenarios and lessons on our bodies natural fight mechanisms! Who made you the boss of us? And don't say 'shall we', as if that makes your warnings sound any less harsh. How blitzed do you think we get that we are gonna pass out drunk, under water, between the hours of 5:30am - 10pm for God's sake? Really??

Only now do I know NOT to consume 25 beers at the family pool then attempt to drive home! I could crash my car into a gas truck and blow up my entire neighborhood. How come you left out that scenario Jerko? What kind of neighbor would I be then? That's about as reasonable as passing out under water while swimming with my kids.

Did you know that being a big fat jerk doesn't get you anywhere? It's true.

So let's avoid it, shall we?

My Little Lamb

My Ava - I love you muffin.