Wednesday, September 30, 2009


So I've had a ton of ideas running through my head on blog posts. Little narratives that go on in my head as I go about my day. But, yeah, obviously I haven't stopped to write them down. Once again, it's been a while, huh? I wish I was one of those types that write here every day but that just isn't happening, now is it? Sorry about that.

So what's been going on here? Well, lets see:

D1 is into a full schedule of activities: preschool three days a week, dance class one morning and Soccer every Saturday afternoon. School has gotten off to a good start. And so has dance. Which, I have to tell you, I REALLY never thought I would sign up one of my girls for dance or gymnastics or anything like that. When they were babes in my arm I swore I wouldn't be one of THOSE Moms. I somehow have those activities linked with eating disorders. Yeah, I know, she's four. But that's just how I think. So I went against that self imposed law. Oh well, next thing you know I'll be signing her up for a beauty pageant. (hee hee. I think I just threw up a little in my mouth!).
Soccer isn't going quite as well. But as I keep reminding my soccer loving husband, she's four! She looks cute in her little uniform, at least.

As I'm carting D1 all over town on these activities, I've been noticing the other Moms and laughing to myself. They all seem vaguely familiar, though I don't know any of their names, or the names of their children, for that matter. But they are familiar all the same. We've all been floating around mindlessly in this little suburban bubble of ours, shuttling our kids to the playground, McDonald's, the pool, library and so on. Living parallel lives of time outs, Happy Meals and slides. Like a secret society, unknown to all, including it's members.

In addition to these activities, I've been carting D2 around as well. She seemed to be feeling a little left out, so today we started a Mommy and Me Dance class (I know! from being against dance, to joining a class myself! Just call me hypocrite!) It actually went much better than any of the other activities I participated in with D2 - so I have high hopes (which of course will come crashing down at ab0ut week # 4. )

With all these activities, what has really been taking up my time is my sweet D2. At 2 1/2 she has come crashing, thrashing and screaming into the terrible two's. From the moment she wakes up till the time she goes to bed, it is all about our battle of the wills. I know this, I know it is an important part of her growth to test her boundaries and establish her independence. But oh my god! Nothing, not even her crazy older sister prepared me for this. I am quite simply exhausted.

Mischief has become her middle name. Pouring juice onto the carpet, dumping cornstarch onto the desk, emptying shelves of it's books. And that was just one evening. She has smeared balmex all over the couch, threw poopy diapers across the room. Locked herself in my dressing room to play with my makeup. Had tantrums over the correct type of juice she wants to drink. It has been endless, and I'm just so tired!

And that my friends, is what I've been up to. As many of these things were happening, the narrative in my head was hilarious. But written too long after, it sounds rather dull. Hang in there with me, though!

Friday, September 4, 2009

Chicken, anyone?

So last week we took a day trip to the Lake at Mt. Gretna. The girls and I met my parents and my niece and nephew. My father is a HUGE fresh water enthusiast who is surrounded by a family of beach lovers. Which of course means that his chance to swim in a lake is pretty infrequent. None of us had ever been to Mt. Gretna, but we were excited by what we read about it. And it was great - a shallow roped off area for the little ones, docks to dive off, this incredible trapeze swing to jump into the water with, and a really high dive to also jump off. So much fun! My father has fond memories of jumping off cliffs into rivers and doing other "dare devil" activities. So within just a few minutes of being there, he was chasing after my 9 year old niece and 11 year old nephew. He did a quick jump off the high dive and then he was off to the trapeze swing. As I watched him in line for the swing, I remarked to my Mother "look at Dad, he's the only adult there. Good for him". Uh yeah, maybe there was a reason for that. As he hobbled out of the water, clutching his stomach, we were definitely worried. He couldn't believe the pain he was in - said something in his stomach "popped". Yep, after just 15 minutes of fun, my Pop was out of commission for the rest of the day. The next couple of days brought on MRI's, ultrasounds and trips to surgeons. Did you know that you could actually rupture a muscle? That's what he did. Crazy stuff. He'll be out of commission for a couple of weeks now.

So the rest of us continued to have a good time while my Pop watched. We rented these great inner tubes and floated around. But my niece seemed a little disappointed. She wanted someone to play with her. She kept bugging me to go off the high dive with her. I kept saying no,and no and oh yeah, no again. But then I saw some older (than me) ladies doing it, and so I started wavering. It would be fun to be the cool Aunt that went and had a good time with her niece. Well, I guess I'll do it.

Ummmmm.... Did I ever mention to you my fear of heights? Yeah. As I was climbing up the very slippery ladder, I kept telling myself "don't look down". I was horrified. And once I got to the top, do you know what my sweet niece did? She baled on me! Just jumped! That was it, she was gone. Floating in her inner tube and smiling up at me. So there I was, on this little platform, up at least a gazillion miles in the air, and surrounded by a bunch of 11 year olds. I kept walking to the jump off point and freezing. I. CAN'T. DO. THIS. The sweet girls kept telling me it really wasn't that bad. The boys kepts saying just do it! 5 separate times I tried to jump. I couldn't do it. I needed to close my eyes to do it. But then I was afraid I wouldn't clear the metal contraption that was holding us up. I needed to keep my eyes open. But I COULDN'T DO IT! The girls told me I had to, informed me that someone broke their leg climbing down the slippery assed ladder. I could believe it. That seemed just as treacherous as jumping. But I JUST COULDN'T DO IT.

The kids were getting more pushy - just do it! But I couldn't. I looked to the shore, my parents were there, watching. Pop had the camera all ready to go. Mom was cheering me on. My girls were looking at their role model with great expectation in their eyes. But, I JUST COULDN'T DO IT. The lifeguard kept giving me these looks like what the hell are you doing up there, old lady? Oh god, I was old. I was the old, chubby scared, lady at the lake. The humiliation.

The lifeguard finally told me to just go down the ladder. He had to whistle and yell at the kids below to clear the ladder so the old, chubby, scared lady could get down. I'm almost certain that's what he said.

And so, scared to death, I descended down the ladder. To great cheers from above. No, ok, actually not cheers. The noise, in fact kind of went like this "bawk, bawk, bawk" THEY WERE CLUCKING AT ME! Oh my god! The 11 year old punks were calling me chicken!

Yep, push that up to number 1 on my most embarrassing moments list.

Monday, August 31, 2009

Home Alone II

So, our final morning alone was quite blissful. Sleeping in, followed by more newspaper reading and coffee drinking on the couch. In honor of Father's Day I made brunch for Hubby and my Father, who would be with my Mom to drop off the girls. I even enjoyed making the breakfast - no one to whine "when will it be done" no one to trip over or supervise stirring the eggs. Just some cooking fun.

We were excited to get our baby girls back. Refreshed and enthusiastic over parenting again.

When they arrived, it was such fun to hear about their weekend away. Finding out what they did with their Mimi and Pop Pop. The new adventures they encountered. We enjoyed a nice brunch with my parents then off they went.

Hubby and I were still in relaxation mode, and the girls were happily rediscovering their toys. As we continued to read the paper, and make plans for the rest of the day, the girls played in the playroom and living room - shuttling toys between the two rooms as they often like to do.

Suddenly my little D2 walks into the room. "D2, what is that blue stuff in your hair?" CRAP! She got into the toiletry bag that my parents returned along with them! Where else is it?

And so I went into the living room to discover blue toothpaste smeared all over the wall, carpet and Hubby's beloved leather man chair (which btw, I have commandeered into the beloved Mama hiding from the rest of the family chair - but I guess that's another story!) Where was the rest of the items in the toiletry bag? What else did they get into?

And that's when I discovered it - the Benadryl bottle behind the chair. Once 3/4's full, now empty.


What followed was a lot of screaming. A lot of confusion. We figured since D2 was covered in toothpaste, she must have drank the Benadryl, too. A quick call to my Mom to ask if she recalled how much was left in the bottle. Then the dreaded call to Poison Control. They were asking me for information, information easily found on the benadryl box. Why could I only see the spanish directions? "Calm down, Ma'am. Take a breath, you're upset" says the hotline operator. Ok, breathing again.

The operator advised we take D2 to the emergency room. More chaos follows. Hubby and I are not dressed, it dawns on us that we took the back seats out of the car in order to pick up D1's new mattress. Lots of tripping over one another, and yelling.

Where is D1? I search for her, and finally find her in her room. She is close to unconsciousness. OH my god! It was her. She must have drank it. Or did they both? What do we do? Who do we take to the ER? It was decided to take both of them.

Once at the ER we are immediately relieved when the nurse at the front desk tells us to take a seat. Relieved and annoyed. Hello? These are my babies! Make sure they are ok! And relieved, it must not be a big deal if they aren't taking them right away.

Once in, it becomes very clear that D2 did not have any of the Benadryl. D1, however, most definitely did. She went from barely able to walk, to cranky, to hyper as anything. The Doctor did very little. They kept her for about 6 hours to "observe" her, and then sent her home.

What a day! I now fully understand the feeling of not knowing whether to hit someone or hug them. Such a scary, scary feeling. Horrible, really. Thank the spirits above that she was fine.

And my weekend to recharge? Ha! I was back to being the harried Mom in no time! Silly Mommy....

Thursday, August 20, 2009

A Mystery

So I know I owe you Part II of my last post, and I have some other things I want to tell you about. BUT, this is just a quick post I wanted to share.

This morning the girls painted. Painting turned into D2 needing to wash her hands. Washing her hands turned into playing in the sink. Playing in the sink turned into her being totally soaked. Her totally soaked turned into her taking off all her clothes. So, I sent her upstairs to get some new clothes. About 5 minutes went by, and she was REALLY quiet. So I went upstairs to investigate. I found her amid a huge mound of clothes. When she saw me she said "I pooped" and sure enough, the indisputable evidence was smeared down her leg. But here's the thing: I can't find the poop! I've walked around the entire house sniffing and looking and it hasn't turned up!

Where the hell is the poop?

Monday, August 10, 2009

Home Alone, Part I

So back in June, Hubby and I celebrated our 10th anniversary. To celebrate, my parents took the girls for the weekend. Picked them up Friday afternoon, and dropped them back home Sunday morning, which happened to be Father's Day.

I was giddy with anticipation as I waited for Hubby to get home from work on Friday. I have this amazing dressing area adjacent to my master bath and for once I actually used and enjoyed it. Sat on a chair and slowly put on makeup, took my time going through the makeup brushes to find the one's undamaged by my girls; used the blow dryer to style my hair with out intermittant stops to listen and make sure the girls were not up to any mischief.

Once Hubby was home, we hung out and watched some tv. Grown up tv. Then we were off to dinner. We chose a restaurant I have been wanting to go to for a full year. The Farmhouse - known for cooking to the season and using local farms as their food source. When we arrived, our table was not quite ready, so we sat at the bar. Sat at the bar. No, we didn't pace the parking lot, praying dinner wouldn't extend too far into bedtime. Nope, we sat at the bar and oggled over the beer list.

After being seated, there was a delay in being served. But it didn't matter. No one to shush, or say "sit on your bum!" to; we simply enjoyed our drinks and chatted. Ok, I'll admit, we did a lot of chatting about our girls, but what do you expect?

As dinner was served and we took our first bites, we wept. Yes, tears burst forth from our eyes. What an amazing meal. We cried for the perfection and we cried over the knowledge that once upon a time, two DINKS used to enjoy a meal such as this because it was a Tuesday. A whim, a "I don't feel like cooking" kind of night; not a meal that had a one year wait list. The meal followed by dessert,and dare I say it? After dinner drinks! was sublime. Perfection.

The next day we slept in. Then we read the saturday paper and each had two cups of coffee. Yes, I drank two cups of coffee. Savored, actually. While sitting on the couch reading the paper. Yes, I know I said that already, but I just wanted you to understand fully the signifigance of this. I drank my coffee while sitting on the couch. Not standing over the counter, quickly slurping and impatiently waiting for it to cool down. I drank it on the couch. Reading the paper.

Next, because of the rainy day, we changed our plans of walking around Jim Thorpe. Instead, we did something more ordinary: ran errands. I know, you are rolling your eyes, wondering why we would waste a day such as this on errands. But here's the thing: we ran errands TOGETHER. It wasn't our usual divide and conquer Saturday where we split the girls up and each run around to get stuff done. We drove around, in the little car, the car without car seats. Together. We bought peanut butter and hot dogs. Picked up D1's new mattress. Together. At one point we got back into the car, looked at each other and smiled.

This is kind of fun
Yeah, I've missed you
Yeah, you're kind of fun to hang out with
You too!

It was nice, a relaxing rainy Saturday afternoon.

That night we met up with friends at a new Gastro Pub. Yeah, it's a weird description, but that's what they call it. It was yummy - great beers, plus one of my favorite things ever! European style french fries with real home made mayo. Real mayo - not some crap you buy in a jar. Yum. We hung out with some good friends, ate, drank and listened to the live band. A great night.

We went home high on solitude, but excited to get our baby girls back the next morning.

To be continued....

Monday, August 3, 2009

Remember Me?

So, ummmmm, uh, Hi. How have you been? Good to hear... yes, I know, I know. It has been a while. And yes, to be honest, I guess I have been avoiding you. Sorry about that. But really, it's not you, it's me. No, really, it is. I mean yeah, you could post a few more comments or link me to your blog, but that's not it, not really. It's me.

I feel like I owe you an explanation. Remember one of my first posts where I told you I get really excited about things, and then drop them? Yeah, that's happening. Sorry about that. I've been really busy though. Yeah, I mean So You Think You Can Dance takes up two whole nights, and then the rest I've been really busy eating ice cream. Scooping up that vanilla and adding that Hershey syrup just right takes TIME.

So what have I been up to? Well, lets see. My girls have been my girls. Crazy. Into lots of stuff. Lots and lots of stuff. There was a Benadryl scare that required taking them both to the ER. Double bills for the ER - now that is a good time. And yes, thankfully they were fine. There was a beach vacation that was wonderful. The girls are now tanned beach babes. D2 has no fear, and D1 worked off some of hers along the shoreside. Took a visit to Assateague Island to see the wild horses. Yep, driving an extra 90 minutes to see 5 horses in the parking lot was pretty priceless. Vacation ended badly with a lot of blue nail polish being painted all over our rental home's bathroom - and D1. That was a good time. My family hit a new high on the gluttony scale. I believe it was 15 pizzas, 5 large Thrashers, 4 large orders of wings and like 100 ice cream cones.

My garden has now hit a full time season of neglect. The squash bugs and mold should be abolishing all hopes of vegetables shortly. The plans for next year have been set in place: a new plot of grass and a veggie co-op from one of the nearby farms. I can't wait for good tasting fresh vegetables and all that new grass!

There was a good week of a cold/flu thing. Left me trembling in bed for several days, forgetting the 90+ degrees outside and thinking it just had to be the middle of February.

Now that it is August, can you believe it is freaking August?, We are trying to jam pack every last thing we wanted to accomplish this summer into 4 short weeks. Lake Tobias, pool days, local zoo days, cave exploring, ice cream parlor hunting and fire fly collecting. Not to mention my personal goal of drinking down at least a dozen more Gin N Tonics (sighhhhh.... I think I've only had one this entire summer!)

So that's been our summer so far. And I promise, I'll keep in touch!

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Hay is for Horses

So as we pulled into the driveway, D1 spied the bale of straw I just bought sitting next to the garage. It's for my slacker garden. The garden that will become the garden of neglect by the end of the summer - a tradition two years in the making. Anyways, D1 asks "why do we have hay". And as a responsible Mother I reply "hay is for horses". I mean, what else was I going to say? But I couldn't stop there. I told her "we bought a horse. It's sleeping in your room. I'm not sure where you will sleep tonight". In the half second of forethought before I made this statement I figured she would whine that she wanted her bed, and I would simply tell her that I was joking. But she didn't whine, she got excited. Started talking about feeding it apples,sharing her bed with it and going for rides on it. I could have stopped there, but I didn't, I went with it. As we walked into the house, she nearly knocked me over trying to get upstairs. I braced myself for the tears. Instead, she yelled down "Mom, I can't find her!, Where is she!" I told her to look in my room "She's not there, Mom!" So I went upstairs and said to my dear D1 "now silly, do you really think Mommy put a horse in your room?" And her reply? "Oh yeah, right. It's in the yard?"

Thursday, May 21, 2009

My addiction

So, I have a dirty little secret. I'm addicted. Addicted to my Blackberry. It really must be like crack, I hear that is also very quickly addicting. I've only had my blackberry for a month, and I can't believe how addicted I am.

Let me start at the beginning:

My husband needed a new cell phone. He uses his for work, so a multi-functioning device made sense for him. When he was looking into them, he mentioned to me that the current sale was buy one, get one free. Well, I knew NOTHING about them. Except I saw them on a commercial once, and thought they looked cute. A nice little accessory to put into my Coach handbag. So as hubby left to go to the Verizon store, I told him sure, I'd take one, but don't bother getting me the internet connection, because I don't need THAT.

Yeah, I was that clueless. See for those of you who are also clueless, you can't get a Blackberry with out internet connection. It's kind of pointless.

So Hubby comes home from Verizon, and before he even gives me the phone he announces that we had to pay for the internet access. He reduced our minutes, so we are actually paying the same, but we had to have internet access. Right away my hackles are up - we could have been SAVING money by reducing our minutes, but instead we are paying for the internet? Arghhhh. Then I start playing with the phone. Mine is a storm, or something, I don't really know. It doesn't actually have buttons, you have to push on the screen for it to work. In all of two minutes I decided I HATED it. It must go back, I declared! I put it in the box, while Hubby shook his head repeatedly at me. The next morning he asked me to just try it for a couple of days. Well, ok. But I wasn't going to take the protective clear plastic off of it, so I could still return it if I wanted.

Yeah, on day 3, D2 pulled it all off. The phone was mine. I've made peace with the push screen, actually I'm pretty good at it. I can punch in an email at a pretty fast speed. Have to admit, I'm a little embarrassed by it. I mean, come on, why the hell does a housewife need a Blackberry? What urgent matters do I need to attend to online? Scheduling the latest playgroup can't wait till I have time to sit in front of the computer? I mean really. It's kind of silly.

But that doesn't stop me from checking it ALL THE TIME. Constantly. The little ding of a new message is hypnotizing: MUST CHECK MESSAGE NOW! And it's pathetic, just how detached from the here and now I've become. I'm playing with the girls at the park, and suddenly I have an overwhelming urge to check my messages. Or in the middle of dinner I hear a ding and desperately want to get up to see what it is. I mean really, ho

Sorry, where was I? My phone just dinged so I had to check what it was - not to worry, it was just SPAM. Now, I forget what I was s

Sorry, sorry, it happened again. Apparently book club is being re-scheduled. Good thing I checked it right away, urgent stuff, you know?

So last night I think I hit rock bottom. Hubby and I frequently spend our evenings on opposite ends of our sectional watching tv and playing with our blackberry's. Yeah, I know, it is as pathetic as it sounds. Sometime's we IM each other. Uh Huh. We really do.

We were watching the finale of American Idol. Does it make us sound less pathetic if I tell you that we watch it in order to mock it? Yeah, I know, it doesn't. At least I tried.

So to annoy Hubby or to make him laugh, I'm not really sure, I start using my FB status update to add my two cents to what is going on during the show. Some of them were actually hilarious in my opinion. Hee hee. But ok,maybe, just maybe, it was a little overboard to write 15 updates in about 23 minutes. But come on, Hubby was laughing! Who cares about my other 144 FB friends, right?

I know, it was as low as a Blackberry addict could go,right? Where do I go for counseling on this sort of thing?

Or ma

Ah never mind, my phone is dinging again, going to go check it....

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Spring Fever

So after several days of miserable rain, late Saturday afternoon, the sky cleared, the sun shone and the temperature rose. It was a beautiful day! A touch of spring fever infected hubby and I. And after perusing the horrible state of my kitchen, I decided that not only was there no way in hell I was cooking, but I wasn't going to eat in that wretched place, either. Out to eat for the Henny crew! We decided upon a fav italian restaurant that featured an outdoor patio - a perfect space for our unruly children.

As we drove there in our mini-van, with the windows rolled down, the 80's retro rock pumped up, Hubby and I sang along with our kids bopping along in the back. I smiled, and day dreamed of the chilled glass of Riesling I was going to sip on at the patio while eating whole wheat pasta tossed with sun-dried tomatoes and fresh basil. Exchanging a few buzzed giggles with hubby and smiling at our children's banter. I was ready for a relaxing, fun evening.

Ok, so this is where the fun music comes to a scratching halt and reality hits in the sitcom version of this glimpse into my life.

We walked into the restaurant,to find that the patio was closed for the evening due to a threat of rain. The restaurant was packed with boys in tuxedos and girls in skimpy dresses and updos. IT WAS PROM NIGHT! And so we backed out of the restaurant as quickly as possible.

I pouted all the way to the next restaurant, where we were turned away for the very same reason. An understanding hostess who obviously had children of her own, suggested it would be a very bad idea to eat there because of the crowds of teenagers. A helpful Hubby suggested that we do eat there, as a public service to all the parents at home worrying. Our children on display would make such a great statement in support of abstinence.

Then we drove around for 15 minutes, arguing over where to eat. I pouted. Hubby still insisted on having the windows open, which just felt like an annoying wind to me, at this point.

And so we ended up at Panera, eating salads and grilled cheese sandwiches. The whole time shocked and amazed that it cost us $36 to eat those entrees. Salad, cheese and bread for $36??? Arghhhhh! My chilled wine was replaced by iced tea. My ambience replaced with reprimands to the children on sitting still. It was reality at it's finest.

For the most part, I don't miss my life before children. I really do treasure them, and love our times together. But sometimes, just sometimes, I miss the casualness, the unplanned-ness of eating out, taking our time finding a place and savoring a meal. Especially the savoring of the meal.

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Face Book Reject

So as I mentioned last week, I am addicted to Facebook. I have 142 friends. My hubby has 248. We competed for a time, but he obviously won. I update my status once or twice or ten times a day. I post photos, I look at other people's photos and leave comments. You get the idea, I'm hooked.

So yesterday, I was paging through my list of friends and I noticed something - a "friend", a boy I dated in 9th grade. Well, wait, let me correct that: he asked me to "go out with him" we talked on the phone and walked to a couple of classes together. I never knew what to say to him, we had long awkward silences then about 2 weeks into the relationship (ahem) I had my friend break up with him. He then went on to become a tough boy punk rock kind of dude and was forever rude to me, until like 12th grade when he started speaking to me again. And no, I'm not saying that my breakup from our intense relationship caused all that, I'm just saying that's what he was like. So he ended up living and working in some big city and being single and leading some kind of interesting life that I really wouldn't want to lead. Anyways, I'm talking in circles, aren't I? Are you wondering where this is going? Yeah, so am I. Ok, back to my point. This "friend" had de-friended me! He was no longer on my list! So I searched his name. He still had a profile and he still had 209 friends. 209 of his closest, dearest friends, so close that he obviously didn't have room for little ol' me to be his 210th. What a blow to the ego! I mean do I care about him? Of course not. Do I need to know anything more about him? Nope. But still, I was rejected on Facebook! Was it my lame suburban housewife comments that got to him? Was it my incessant droning on about my crazy kids? Was he only keeping cool city hipsters on his list? What could it have been? Am I not one of the cool kids? Did he hold with him my pathetic rejection for the past 20 years, and finally had his moment to get back at me? Was it the stupid tests I kept taking that annoyed him - could he no longer read what kind of fairy I was or what name I should have been named? Or did he look through my photos and get some satisfaction in the knowledge that I gained more weight than he since school, and now he could move on? What was it?! Why would he defriend me?!

And yes, this is what went through my head as I prepared dinner last night. Facebook has reverted me back to a socially insecure highschooler. The horror.

Friday, April 24, 2009

A list

So I'm totally addicted to Face Book. Completely. I am an addict. So is most of the United States, it would appear, so I don't feel all that bad about it. Perhaps it's the reason the Economy has tanked - no one is actually doing their jobs, they are just looking up old loves on FB all day.

If you are on FB, you know that it is being polluted by lists. Lists on everything you can think of, really. Fav movies, books, songs, hottest serial killers, ugliest flowers, blah, blah, blah. So the list thing has infected my head. For weeks now I've been walking around making lists in my head. Here's the one I made today:

My Favorite Things about Spring/Summer

1. Bare Feet
2. Gin N Tonics
3. My annual beach vacation with the Fam
4. Margaritas
5. Backyard BBQ's
6. The smell of lilacs
7. Strawberries, blueberries and raspberries
8. The Emmaus Farmers Market - going there every Sunday for some shopping and bonding with my little D1.
9. Hanging out on my adirondack chair in the backyard listening to Bob Marley
10. Street Fairs and carnivals
11. Ice Cream

I got to 11. Probably would look nicer if I had stayed at 10, but who can leave out ice cream? I mean really.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Checking In

So, I have to be honest with you. I've been feeling a little uncertain about this blog lately. It started out being a place to talk about myself, but as so many Stay at Home Mom's can attest to, talking about myself doesn't have a whole lot of content these days, and so it became telling a whole lot of stories about D1 and D2. But I've been having some concerns about that lately. You see, a lot of people who actually know me in real life read this blog. This was by my own design, so I have only myself to blame. But, I've been concerned lately that maybe I'm not being fair to my little girls. D1 especially. Am I giving her a bad reputation? I dwell on the more, errr, negative aspects because well, for two reasons, I suppose. One is because this gives me a place to vent, and usually feel better about things. And two, because, come on, they are pretty hilarious! Well, that is if you aren't the one cleaning up the egg shells or running after the naked little angels.

My D1 (and D2, too!) are spirited, creative, self reliant and curious. But is that what people think after reading my blog? Or do they think destructive and wild? Do they know that D1 trys to take care of her Mommy and Daddy when they are sick? Bringing them water to drink and a blanket to snuggle with? Do they know that she loves to help Momma bake? Or that she always sticks up for her little sister at the playground? Do they know that she willingly gave up her pacifier to the paci fairy so that little babies who needed their own paci's could have them? Or that the sound of the wind drives her out of her own bed into the safety of Mommy and Daddy's room? I guess I assume everyone knows D1's other side. The way she likes to snuggle up to her Daddy and watch a flyers game, or how she likes to make up stories with her Mama about Princess D1 and Princess D2 and their Queen Mommy. How excited she gets to see her older cousins - you'd think they were rock stars the way she acts!

So I've been holding back a little. Not sure what to write about. Writing about me and my adventures has to include my girls, but to what extent? And is focusing on the negative good for them, or for my parenting for that matter?

I'm just not sure, I guess.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009


As a little laugh before Easter, I thought I would post an email I sent to a friend right after Easter 2006. It was D1's first Easter, and in honor of that, Hubby and I decided to host our very first Holiday dinner with Hubby's family - his parents, brother and his girlfriend, Grandmother, Aunt and Uncle and Cousins. We were going to try to fit all those people into our tiny little house and impress the heck out of them with our well cooked food and great hospitality.

And of course, that's not how it went:

My Easter was a disaster. It started Saturday - my sciatica started giving me trouble, which it hasn't bothered me in probably 2 years, but it kicked in, so I totally didn't get half the stuff done that I needed. So Sunday started with me way behind. Luckily Hubby's Bro and his girlfriend came early and helped. But still I was behind. 30 mins before everyone was coming, I was just getting around to putting the ham in the oven. Before I could do this, we spied my neighbor (house behind me) passing out and falling to the ground. I ran over first, with Hubby a few seconds behind. We thought he was dead - so scary. Here he's diabetic and passed out from that. He hit his head on the driveway pretty hard and was bleeding. So we called 911. Then while we were waiting for them, I drove over to his church (very funny - me and an all black baptist church) to get his wife. Needless to say, I was a little frazzled by that. So I opened up the wine :) and started drinking :) drinking a little too much, to be exact :) Well, all the food managed to get into the oven, late, but that was ok. Then everything but the pineapple stuffing was done, so we decided to start with the salad while that finished up. Hubby complained to me that he was worried about the stuffing because it was dripping, and the oven was a little smokey. I told him not to worry about it. A few minutes later he checked on it again, and oooops! The oven was on fire. Really bad. We all had to leave the house and Hubby had to use the fire extinguisher on the oven (still haven't cleaned it yet - yuck!). It wasn't too horrible, actually. I think we only had to wait @30 mins before we could go back into the house :) Luckily Ham tastes good cold. Next, I decide to toast D1 for her excellent gene pool, and manage to drop my entire glass of wine all over Hubby's plate. Hmmmmm..... who do you think was angry by this point? Then, I find the whole event hilarious, so I go upstairs to take care of D1 and decide to call my parents, forgetting of course that the monitor was on. A classy kind of day :) I'm lucky my husband is still speaking to me.

I wanted to talk to you, I have great visions for D1's Bday party and wanted your advice. I'm hoping this time the fire will be elevated to the point of needing fire trucks. Every kid loves fire trucks :)No seriously, wanted to talk to you about baking and stuff.

And that was our first try at Holiday Entertaining! We haven't done an Easter at our house since.

Happy Easter, and if you're hosting, here's hoping it is Smoke Free!

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Super Freak

So, I really enjoy using the word "freaking". Not nearly as much as it's cousin, the F bomb, but in a very poor attempt at censoring myself, I use freaking. A lot. In fact, I have quite a few words and/or phrases that ummmm, color my language. "For the love of god" is one. I attribute that to my Jersey days. It's just a very Jersey thing to say, I think. Oh, and along those same lines I say "oh my god, I almost died". "Crap" I say way too much, which is another pathetic try at not saying shit. Although I still say "shit" a lot too, a favorite phrase being "I don't give two shits..."

But anyways, I digress. Hmmmm, that's a word I don't use often enough. I'll have to remember that. Ok, back to what I was saying. About a month ago, my Dad was visiting and in the course of our conversation, I probably said "freaking" a good 5 times. Which he felt compelled to point out, saying "you know, you say freaking a lot, you should probably watch that or your kids are going to start saying it"

Arghhh... my Dad freaking jinxed me!

Today, I was standing on a step stool, digging out the finger paint from the top shelf in the craft closet (which EVERYTHING is on the top shelf in the craft closet, come on, you've read this blog, I can't leave anything lower!) While I was digging around, the bag of playdough fell and scared D1. Can you guess her response? Here it was: "Freaking playdough, you just freaked me out". Ahhhhh.... thanks Dad!

After I stopped laughing, I called hubby to tell him. And after he stopped laughing, he pointed out what a smart girl D1 is. She figured out how to use "freaking" two ways! As an adjective and a verb! Words can not fully express how freaking proud I am.

Friday, March 20, 2009

A Hit for Reality

This morning I took the girls outside. It's still a bit chilly, but we bundled up in sweatshirts and jeans, and were just fine. I spent the time outside working on a small garden bed. The girls dug for jewels and other mysteries, then they went onto the deck and played with some old flower pots - making "flower pizzas". I was just three steps below them in the yard. As I was listening to them chatter on about flower pizzas and dirt and jewels and other imaginary things, I smiled to myself, pleased with their little imaginations at work. As some of you who also blog may do as well, my mind wandered to a possible blog post about the morning. About how that moment felt so good, felt exactly like what I thought the joys and awards of parenthood would be like. My heart grew warmer as I mentally narrated the scene. Far off in the distance, I heard D1 whine about a crack in her pizza pot. As I knelt with my head down, from the corner of my eye I could see her coming towards me, but still I dreamed on.

And that's when she dropped the terra cotta pot onto my head. It broke into several pieces. ON MY HEAD. Ok, maybe you don't understand. She was on the deck, I was down on my hands and knees in the dirt. And she dropped a flower pot onto my head. My head broke the pot. Ok, do you understand now? The pain, I mean. I was lucky, it did not bleed - surprising since head wounds are supposed to bleed like crazy. But I guess I was lucky, nothing actually punctured my skin.

As I type this with one hand, the other hand holding ice to the lump that is forming on my head, I have to laugh, and once again remind all of you that parenthood is nothing like you think it will be. But it's certainly full of surprises.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009


So, I just wanted to let you all know that if you google "wiping someone else's bum" my site comes up #2 !

It's a proud, proud moment, my friends!

Friday, March 13, 2009

Say what?

There are phrases I have said in the last 3 yrs and 10 months that just never ever figured into the equation. I just never dreamed, ever, what Mothering would be like. It's hard to imagine what something is REALLY going to be like before you actually do it. When I worked as a buyer for accessories, it wasn't quite what I thought it would be when I was studying away for my Fashion Merchandising degree at IUP. But still, it was on the same plain of reality and logic that I had been on for quite a few years. My duties were orderly and reasonable. It wasn't like this. Even hearing that parenthood is nothing what you expect doesn't prepare you for such unexpectedness. Laying awake at night, stroking that big, pregnant belly and dreaming of what it will like doesn't even get close. Yes, you imagine that you will love the child like nothing you have loved before, and that certainly is true. And still doesn't measure up to the actual all-encompassing love that materializes. But I'm talking about how you imagine you will parent and interact with your child. Scared or not, judgemental or not, I'm sure you, like me, dreamed of picture perfect days filled with painting gardenscapes, exploring nature, cuddling to cartoons. And of course, lovingly teaching them the ways of acceptable conduct. Ooops! I think I just snorted my coffee through my nose on that one. I mean, what the hell was I thinking? I just had no idea what sort of things I would actually be saying to my children. No clue, really.

These for instance:
Ahhh, look at all this poo!
Poop goes into the toilet, not onto the floor.
Did you put an acorn in your pee pee?
Your Noggin isn't broken (and not be talking about their head!.)
We keep our clothes on when we are visiting our friends.
We don't wear pajamas in the shower.
Rocks can hurt heads.
You need bam bams for the boo boo's on your ba-ba's?
Dog food is for doggies!

Or even the mundane things that you somewhat expected to say, just not 5 times a day, every day for 2 years:

crayons are for paper, not walls!
don't hit your sister!

I mean, really? I just had no clue! And then there are the things you ask your friends, things you thought you were never care about, let alone discuss:

How often does your baby poop?
What happened to your nipples?
How do you get 32 ounces of maple syrup out of the carpet?

I mean really, who knew? Ok, for the couple of people who read this regularly, please share with me a few of your "I can't believe I am saying this!" phrases. Show me I'm not alone, and give me a chuckle!

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Remember Me?

So, It's been a while, I know. Sorry about that. I went away for a while. No, the place I went didn't end in "psychiatric center" or "rehab" or anything like that. Nope, my wonderful In-laws took the whole family to a Beaches Resort in The Turks and Caicos. It was AMAZING. Amazing. Really. A beautiful resort. Beautiful room. Breath-taking beaches. Wonderful service. The weather was perfect. 80's, sunny, breezy. Perfect, really. We had a large cast of characters with us. Hubby's whole family - parents, brother, sister-in-law, grandmother, Aunt, Uncle, two cousins, and us. 13 of us to be exact. Lots of mishaps, crying, laughing, drinking and lots and lots and lots of EATING. I felt like I was on cloud nine for four whole nights and days. My children were adorable, my husband was attentive and funny. The sun was shining, the heavens sang down on us. God, was it wonderful. Exactly what I needed to get myself out of a late winter slump.

Then we came back. Funny thing about vacations - they end. My Mother generously offered to come the day after we got back to help with the kids and let me rest after a long and late flight home. Well, ok, so I begged her to come. It was still generous of her to show up! My kids were, ummm, how do I say? A handful once we got back? A little out of sorts? Absolute monsters? Yeah, I think the last one is most precise. The plan for my Mom was to come and stay overnight then leave the next morning. Well, the next morning I was hit with an absolutely blinding and debilitating migraine. The sweet angel I call Mom put me to bed, gave me pills to knock me out, and took care of the monsters, errr, girls while I slept. I was in and out of consciousness that day. So I heard bits and pieces of life for my Mom. Actually, I felt like I was easedropping on myself for a day. Varying voices wafted up to me. Calm but stern ones, yelps of surprise. Hollers of "No"! The ever present phrases of my life "why would you DO that?" and "stop". Eerily familiar statements that I've been saying way too often, but haven't heard my Mom utter in at least 25 years.
Feeling better that evening, I hung with my Mom on the couch, chatting for a while. She informed me that I don't give justice to this blog. That I could be writing so much more! She, in fact, could write an entire book on just that one day! The wrestling, the fighting, the fibbing, the messes, the running, screaming, screeching, playing, dancing, scratching,pulling hair, singing chaos that is a day with my dear D1 and D2! And, best of all, she has promised me to testify on my behalf that they do not act this way because I'm upstairs locked in my room manicuring my nails all day! Nope, the things they do really happen in split seconds. VALIDATION!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yay Me! So, if you don't believe one of my posts that says I really was just gone for a minute, then you go ask my Mommy!

Monday, February 9, 2009


So they broke me. I'm certain. Cracked beyond repair. My mind is gone. Spirit gravely injured.

I woke at the usual time today, in the usual way: D1 arriving in my room at 7:30. But from there, things went a little differently. First of all, D1 greeted me with poop ass. What a duty, to wipe someone else's bum before you've even had time to wipe the crusties from your eyes. Then, as I gained more consciousness, I thought to ask - "where are your pants?" to which she replied "downstairs". Hmmmm... downstairs, already?

And so after collecting D2, we go downstairs. Where I find the refrigerator door propped open with a step stool. Pudding and juice on the counter. Then I head into the family room - tv is on. My little angel is so self sufficient, isn't she?

Breakfast is a mess. A lot of crying, pushing and fighting over cheerios. There's probably more to say, but I'm already starting the process of blocking it all out.

Ok, bath time! I've heard other people remark that bath time is such a fun, relaxing time in their house. Huh. Can I move in? Bath time in our house involves Mommy yelling not to dump ALL the water out onto the floor, and then very aggressively washing hair, because I haven't found any other way to get it done.

Ok, next I dare hop on the computer for a few minutes. Check email, send an email, and see if I can find any sort of free activity for the morning. Afterwards I come downstairs to see D2 covered in red sharpie marker. Her new pink pants stained already. And don't even dare ask why I would leave a sharpie out again, yeah, I know, I should have learned my lesson after the carpet incident. Well, here's the thing: I didn't actually leave it out. Well, yeah, I did, sort of, if you include leaving it on top of the fridge as "out". The little angels now know how to scale the sides to get the things on top. I'm going to have to start leaving things in nets on the very tops of our trees to keep them away from my sweet babies. I'll have to train pigeons to fetch stuff for me. My hubby was right, a helper monkey really would be wonderful.

Next comes trying to get them to go to a park to play for a while, take advantage of this crazy warm weather we are having. Well, after several meltdowns, in becomes apparent that they do not want to go outside. Ok, maybe D2 needs an early nap, she's still not feeling 100% after last week's bug. Into crib, and starts a 20 minute tirade. Out of bed. Ok, let's play in the basement. As I'm walking down to the basement, a friend calls and I attempt to have a conversation. Silly me. In the 10 minutes I'm on the phone, the girls unroll an entire thing of wrapping paper. Then begin to fight over it, which leads to a sword fight with the legs of a dismantled table. My friend remarks that my house sounds like a chinese take out kitchen. I'm thinking more like a cock fighting arena. I abruptly end the conversation when it becomes apparent that D2 has been injured by the sword fight.

Ok, lets have snack lunch! Snack lunch is when Mommy doesn't really feel like making "real" food. I bring out a bunch of snacks and let them eat it on the floor in basement. A relatively good time for a while.

As they are finishing up, I run upstairs to brush teeth and do a few things so we can go to the open gym time at our township building. A few minutes pass, and D1 comes upstairs. Naked. Informs me that D2 has made a mess in the kitchen. "but where are your clothes, D1?, Did you pee?". "Yes, Mommy, I did not make mess in kitchen". Which, for those of you who do not interpret 3 yr old speak, means "I made a mess, but blame my sister".

So I go downstairs. I find half a dozen eggs broken all over the floor, with half chewed pepperoni mixed in. Their clothes thrown on top. I big eggy disgusting mess.
Naked D1 climbs on top of the counter and starts to jump up and down saying "not me! not me!" D2 wines and cries because she can't scale to those heights.

I, I begin to cry. I call hubby, and tell him "I'm broken - they finally did it - they broke me" He tells me to put them in their rooms, and take a shower. Tells me to leave the eggs on the floor.

And that is what I do. D2 into her crib. I put the safety handle on D1's door so she can't get out. And I take a long, long shower. My shower has a little bench in it. I've never used it. I mean why would I? I did today. Sat there, head to knees and watched the water go down the drain.

Now, I'm writing this, with wet hair, wearing my bathrobe. I can't get myself to go downstairs and clean that mess. Nor can I get myself to go into D1's room to see the mess she has created in there.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Back into the swing of things

So D1's behavior was really, really good. For close to a month. The Holidays were not nearly as horrifying as I thought it would be, as far as her behavior went, that is to say. I even started getting a little nostalgic about it. Thought she was growing up, maturing. I started stressing over the blog even. What would I write about if I had a well behaved child? Nothing to complain over, no stories to make you laugh. Well, that's all wrong. D1 is back. Back with a vengeance. I've been so busying policing her and D2, I haven't had time to pee. Seriously, the last two weeks have been insane. Insane.

So what's been going on? Well, first of all, D2 is really coming into her own. She is becoming D1's accomplice in so many acts of vandalism, even creating her own.

Here is a short list of what they have been up to, once again, I've blocked out some of the things to conserve my sanity. Keep in mind, this is an incomplete list spanning just two weeks.

- squirted lotion all over bathroom floor

- wrote with a sharpie pen on the living room carpet (yeah, that doesn't come out)

- D2 drew on wall with bic pen (that doesn't appear to come out, either)

- dipped makeup brushes in lipstick (bye bye make up brushes)

- D1 dumped a bottle of Burts Oil in her hair. (oh, and then denied it. despite the obvious evidence of grease in her hair. Which, btw, took four hair washings to get out)

- smeared gel candle goop all over bathroom wall

- D2 wrote on brand new play kitchen set with marker

- bit off edges of almost every piece of a foamy puzzle

- stole ice cream container, and hid it and ate it in dining room. Left a crusty mess in carpet. Yum.

- D1 turned A/C and fan on before we went to bed one night, one night that was just 8 degree outside. We woke up at 1 am in house that was 50 degrees. Then coincidentally, I'm sure, the heater broke and we had to have it fixed on a Saturday.

And then there was the straw that broke the camels back. As I've outlined before, I really don't spend much, if any, time on myself. The one thing I do is put facial moisturizer on every day. It's special stuff for my sensitive skin. Well, they got into it and dumped most of it down the sink. I say most of it, because a nice glob of it also found its way onto D1's face. Which was rather humorous because when we caught them, she said she didn't do it, that it was just her sister. Hmmmm.

This one made me cry. Sob, actually. The usual Mom-esque statements. "I can't have anything nice!" "There is nothing that is my own anymore!" Blah, Blah, Blah. I even said "I don't feel like a human anymore!" To which my eloquent Husband replied "You're not human, you're a Mom now" ahem, yes he did!

So that's what I've been doing. Losing my mind. Slowly.

I'm going to make myself a cup of coffee now.

Thursday, January 8, 2009

I know

So, I just want you to know that I know. Ok? I know my hair looks like shit. I have a hair appt for next Saturday, ok? I know, What's up with it, right? It's the freaking water here, that's what's up. The hard water in the Lehigh Valley is doing some serious beauty damage here. My stylist told me to start using a shampoo for color treated hair, said it would help my hair from turning this weird brassy color. It helped, sort of. But maybe I bought the wrong kind? It's totally making my hair look greasy and limp. Ok, ok, I know, I know that's not the only problem with my hair. I'm WAAAAYYYY over due on the hair dye thing. My grey roots are to my ears. I KNOW. And yes, I know if I took the time to blow dry it after my shower it wouldn't do this weird flippy thing. Yeah, I know. But if I'm using the hair dryer, then I have no idea what D1 is up to, and I already took a huge risk of house damage simply by taking a shower. Besides, the hair dryer could wake up D2, then I would really be in shits creek.

Yes, yes, I know that if I took 3 extra minutes to apply some concealer and blush I would look awake and probably like 15 years younger. I know. But then D1 and D2 would want me to put make up on them, and it would become this long THING. This THING that would eventually turn into yelling. Anyways, most of my makeup brushes are completely ruined because D1 dipped them into lip gloss. And I'm not buying any new ones till they are in middle school, at least.

Of course, I know my shirt has a stain on it. There AND there. I know. It's just that if I bought a new one, it would be christianed with a stain within the first hour of wearing it. Yes, I know, if I was more careful, or treated the stain right away, it would wash out. I know this. I don't do this. I take the shirt off, run around half naked, and then forget to pre-treat the stain, because I'm yelling at the girls for emptying out my dresser.

So I just want you to know that I know, ok?

And knowing is half the battle, right?

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

painting a picture of family life

So my friend Valerie, over at A Frugal Family Fun Blog recently wrote this post about a family painting event. She even provided photos. The pictures are a snapshot of domestic tranquility at it's best. A tranquil activity to wind down the day. With the chaos of Christmas, it had been a while since I painted with the girls. With the icey, rainy weather today, I figured it would be a good time to pull out the new painting supplies I bought them for Christmas. I bought them two little kits. One is acrylic paint with a cute miniature pallette and really nice paintbrushes, the other is water paint with lots of great colors. I gave D1 the choice of which one to use. She chose the acrylic paint. This is how the conversation went once everything was set up:

D1: I want water, tooooo! Why D2 have water? I want water.
Me: Your paint doesn't need water to work.
D1: But I want water.

She then runs over to D2's paint and paper and starts using it.

D2: SCREEEEECHHHHH!! Noooooo! Mine!
Me: D1, get back to your chair. Use your paint. Back to your chair! Back to your chair!

D1 then goes back to her chair. Mixes all the pretty colors together to form an ugly black.

Me: D1, why did you do that? Now you only have black. D1, don't paint your hands, we aren't doing handprints today. D1, back to your chair, leave your sister alone. D1, clean off your hand, paint is everywhere now. D2, stop screaming. D2, stop throwing your paintbrushes on the floor.

D1: I want water.
Me: Your paint doesn't need water.
D2: Screeech!
D1: I want more paint.
D2: Screeech!
D1 then gets out of chair and grabs more paint.

Me: No, D1, you have to use up your black paint first.

D1: I want water.

Me: No, D1, we are not doing handprints today. One more time and we will stop painting.

and 30 seconds later...

Me: Ok! Painting is done! You didn't listen!
D1 & D2: Screech!

Thanks for the suggestion, Val.

Monday, January 5, 2009

New Years Resolutions

So, I guess I'm optimistic enough to still come up with Resolutions each year. But cynic enough to roll my eyes at my ownself as I'm doing it. After the decadence of too much eating, too much spending and not enough time spent on me, by January I'm always up for some healthy eating and pampering. But as I do it, my eyes are rolling, knowing that it will be over with by The Superbowl.

As I sit here, with my now snug fitting fat pants - the one's that just two short months ago were baggy, and wouldn't stay around my hips. Not only am I thinking about changing into sweatpants, but I'm thinking about the resolutions for this year. Last year Valerie Bertinelli made quite a revelation in her Jenny Craig commercial. It was the first year that she wasn't going to have to make her resolution be about losing weight. Will this be my year? Probably not. See, right there is the reason. Obviously I don't have what it takes. Sighhhhh. So what exactly are my resolutions?

1. Eat better, less sugar, less mindless shoveling in of the kid's leftovers.
2. Drink more water - I used to have this one down pat, not sure what happened.
3. Make the time to exercise.
4. Wake up 30 minutes before the kids, so I can have some quiet me time in the mornings.

Well, I started these resolutions today. I always start anything new on a Monday. Who cares what day New Year's Day landed on, Mondays are my days for starting over.

I set my alarm for 6:30. Got out of bed at 7:30. Actually got to take a shower with out D1 or D2 bothering me. So no, I didn't do what I resolved, but hey a quiet shower works, too.

I actually didn't eat the kid's leftovers today. I think that will be a matter of reprogramming. I remember when I was single, I would hear women complaining about gaining weight from doing this I would think "yuck! why would you do that?" Well, here I am!

What are your New Year's Resolutions? Or are you too jaded to have any?

Sunday, January 4, 2009

Christmas is Over

So that's it, huh? It's all over. How exhausting! I'm still catching up on the sleep I missed for a full month, trying to put together the best Christmas ever, or something like that. How was it? Did I buy the freaking Dora Pegasus? Did I survive?

No, I did not buy the Dora Pegasus. I was very proud of myself on that one. I looked till Christmas eve, trying to find it for less than $30. I didn't, so I kept to my promise not to buy it. Did she miss it? Not at all. Didn't even mention it. Her favorite Christmas gift was the V-Tech Camera. She has barely put it down. I hate it. All her shots are, well, at her level, which means way more ass shots than one person deserves to see of herself in a lifetime. The horror. Although I almost peed myself when I saw some of the other shots. The camera has this thing where you can add stuff to your images. Hats, horns, googley eyes. Some how Miss D1 managed to add the googley eyes to a chest shot of her Great Grandmother. Got them right on target, if you know what I mean.

I think for D2, favorite gift was a tie between two things: a plastic spoon and cup and play dress up shoes. I've never seen a 20 month old so obsessed with accessories. That's my girl, alright. No denying that one.

Did I survive? I'm not really sure. I'll let you know next week when I catch up on sleep. But was it worth it? Yes, I think so. It was our first Christmas spent at home, our first time hosting the Hubby's whole family for Christmas dinner. Have I mentioned the word exhausted? Still, watching D1 and D2 run around and play with their new toys, unhurried or forced to do anything else? Totally worth it.

Seems like I should have more to say, I know I've been running blurbs through my brain for the past few days, but somehow I can't think of them now. It's just that I'm so tired....