When you get that notion, put your backfield in motion

Fun with breastfeeding

2007-09-06T08:17:00.000-04:00

Last night the family and a friend took the Gavinator to the fair for his birthday (tons of pictures to come very soon) and on our way home we stopped to get ice cream. I got kiddie cones for the kids and my friend got a giant, chocolate-y waffle cone. The Goose finished her kid cone in a nano-second and turned her eyes (and stomach) on her new best friend- the person with giant, chocolate-y waffle cone.

Goose leaned in for a giant bite out of the cone and put her entire face from nose to chin inside the waffle and right as she was was pulling her face out of the cone I was all "dude, her mouth was totally on my boob earlier. You know what's on your ice cream now? My boob."

Good times.

p.s. tons of Firm, preschool, and NYC trip updates to come!!!!

The Firm Challenge- Week one

2007-08-22T13:43:00.000-04:00

As I told you all in my last post I have decided to take on the The Firm (not to be confused with the Tom Cruise movie) for the next 12 weeks and see what exactly I can do with my body when I cut back on junk food and fanny lift until I can't fanny lift no more.

This past week I was able to do five Firm workouts and two yoga workouts. I know I won't be able to keep this pace up as it takes away time from the kiddos but I'm hoping for a few more weeks of daily workouts before I take it down a notch to three or four days a week. I can really feel it in my thighs and arms already. Right now I think the changes are only noticable to me but I'm hoping it won't be too long until I'm selling tickets to the gun show.

I posted these pictures on Flickr last night and have received a lot of positive feedback with people telling me I don't need to change a thing or they would gladly give me their boobs for my abs and while appreciated, I'm just not seeing what they're seeing. Don't get me wrong, I'm okay with my shape and my weight and seeing as how I once tipped the scales at almost 180 pounds in college, I definitely feel feel healthy and fit BUT I don't think I'm doing all that I can do. If I can work out hard 3, 4, 5, 6, or 7 times a week then I should. The only reason I haven't been working out hard is because I've been fine with the way I look and why just be fine if I can be more than fine, you know?

I'll be posting my progress here with weekly pictures. I really feel like that will hold me accountable (I wanted to eat nacho chips and cheese last night but I didn't because I know that in 6 days, it's picture posting time again) and perhaps I can inspire other people.

Nuts

2007-08-21T09:01:00.000-04:00

So I was listening to Da’Dip this morning on the way to work and got inspired to write a blog post. True story. I mean, because aren’t wall just squirrels in the world trying to get a nut so wassup? Unless, of course, one has a nut allergy then all bets are off but I'm not allergic AND I have a nut-related goal, to boot!

Anyhoo, I’ve been slacking on the blog BIG TIME and now I’m slacking over on Flickr and I’m sure all of you are getting ancy, nervous, and sweaty waiting for me to update. It’s okay to admit it. That’s exactly how I get when my exes and people I don’t know but think are pretty take months to update their myspace pages. Although sometimes I’m sweaty for no reason but that’s another post all together.

I should add that I can’t take full blame for slacking on Flickr. Some of you may have noticed that the husband is all Flickr crazy and he is hogging the camera and Photoshop to do his own thing. I would be pissed but he really rocks (Dude has already been image of the day at Parent Dish) and it is cool to watch him get sucked into the online world so I can say stuff like “remember when you used to get all mad because I used to sit in front of the computer Flickring all night long? Yeah, well, looks like you can’t get mad at me now, Mr. I’ve been on Flickr for 4 hours. Suck it. How you like them apples!?!”

We have a really healthy relationship. I swear.

I have also been spending my online time over at the debate board. I don’t know what it is- perhaps it is the one poster who we all know is someone else and really doesn’t do much to hide the fact she (he?) is someone else yet still is able to get some of the most rational regulars riled up and it really is fascinating to watch- but I have a renewed interest in the board. I thought about resigning as a host when I was going through a period when I couldn’t post but I’ve put that idea on the back burner. I do miss being a smart ass and saying the things that I want to say but can’t because I’m a host but I think I’m going to work more on finding a balance between professionalism and smartassism.

Besides, I really, really do care about the breast versus bottle debate. It’s such a complex and personal issue for me seeing as how I had such a difficult time nursing Gavinator and an easy, breezy, still nursing at 26 months time with Goose. On one hand, I’m all formula is fine and don’t martyr yourself to breastfeed and on the other, I’m all come on, stick with it, everyone should breastfeed! Sometimes I catch myself being so internally judgmental when I find out someone I know is formula feeding and the board helps to keep me grounded and remind me that I have no idea what is really going on. As much as I don’t like to think about what went down with the Gavinator, I think it gives me the empathy necessary to be a good advocate.

Now, just so you don’t think I spend all my time online, I have decided to document my journey from flab to fit on this blog. I have recommitted myself to The Firm. No, not the Tom Cruise movie (although the fancy piano music in that flick would be something to jump around to) but to this The Firm. I used The Firm to get into incredible shape 5 years ago- so incredible that I went to visit my sister and all her neighbors were convinced to buy the Firm after poking at my incredibly toned buns- and after the birth of Gavinator. I haven’t been much for working out since Goose was born other than nightly walks and the exercise ball. I’m in good cardio shape and my weight is fine but I’m saggy and in desperate need of some tone. I’m not getting in younger so I’m going to do The Firm workouts 4-5 times a week, cut back on salty and sweet snacks (dear Lord be with me), and try to regain the butt I could bounce quarters off of.

If I can ever wrestle the camera and photoshop away from the husband, I’ll post my week one progress here and continue to do so for the next 12 weeks. Already my thighs and arms are feeling firmer (heheheheh, not just a clever name, I see) and at the rate I’m going, I should be able to crack nuts just by pointing my buns in their direction by Christmas. That should definitely come in handy.

Ta ta Tutu!!

2007-08-06T08:52:00.000-04:00

The traveling tutu is going on its merry way today so my days of frolicking around town in a tutu, blue tights, a nude leotard, black ballet slippers, and pink and white striped knee high socks are over.

Sigh. I'm going to miss that tutu. Not only did it bring an excuse to have a ton of fun and act like a moron in public places, it also brought me number one in Explore on August 5th with my final tutu shot:

The Traveling Tutu group seriously needs to consider a 12 step program to wean recipients of the tutu off the tutu.

Tutu Much

2007-08-05T12:47:00.000-04:00

Best. Picture. Ever.

I'm doing it all for the tutu

2007-08-03T09:27:00.000-04:00

So I said I was going to get all into blogging again (although I'm not sure at this point if anyone cares) but then, I got distracted by the Traveling Tutu group over on Flickr and man alive, between trying to win the tutu, making the most of my time with the tutu, and squeezing in a trip to Carowinds, I have been left again with zero time for blogging.

It all started when Grateful Clem used his magic wand and started a competition for who would get the tutu next. Not only am I EXTREMELY competitive and willing to make a total and complete fool out of myself, I also live very close to Clem's alma mater- Clemson University- and knew I could work that to my advantage.

Sooooooo, I won the tutu and it won't be long until I must pass her on (to who I don't know). I am spending all my time working, shopping, and playing sports in the tutu to make the most of my time with it and blogging has once again taken a back seat.

Unless another sparkly, frilly, colorful something or other comes along with a chance for me to win and/or make a fool of myself in, I should be back to blogging next week.

In the meantime, you can find me here.

Summery ramblings

2007-07-13T14:00:00.000-04:00

Where to start? Ayi yi yi… it is so hard to come up with a blog post after such a prolonged absence. I haven’t intentionally ignored blogging but with the gorgeous weather and Operation Spend More Time with Real People and Less Time with Cyber People (OSMTRPLTCP) in full effect, I just haven’t exactly made time for it. What I have made more time for are cookouts, parties with friends, trips to the park and the pool, backyard fun, nights on Main Street, and photographing all the aforementioned events.

I had promised myself a few months ago that I would be more social and make more of an effort to do things out and about with the kiddos and our friends on the weekends no matter how tough it was to take the two screaming banshees out of their cages. The husband and I also agreed to have more social events at our house and one fence, playground, gazebo, and kiddie pool later, we have hosted three cookouts at our house and a Fourth of July partay at a friend’s house (and by house, I mean resort)

I definitely think the kiddos have been benefited by being out and about more often- the Gavinator has even learned to swim by himself while wearing his floaty suit- and while the Goose still clings to me like her head will explode if I am not in a 1 foot radius of her, she is at least beginning to acknowledge and speak of people as long as they aren’t looking at her or even worse, directly speaking to her. Oh, and speaking of the Gavinator, he has two new favorite phrases. His first one is to declare “I’m pissed out” every time things are going his way (he totally got that from his father, I never say pissed off and his second one is to ask a question that he wants you to say “yes” to and follow up the question with “say yes or no. Say yes or no” and then when you respond with a “no” he’ll say “say yes! Say yes!” and then he’ll repeat the whole question over again. It can go on for days, I tell you.

It’s definitely been good for me to get out and do things with people. My inner social butterfly has been on hiatus since moving to South Carolina and it is about time she came back. I can’t believe the very same person who ten years ago was accused of being a coke addict because I was so spastic and hyper and always on the go during the one summer I spent at home was the same person who just last summer pretty much did nothing. Nada. Zip. Summer is about moving and shaking I was pretty much sitting and staring. I mean sure, I had two kids two and under but enough is enough.

There is just something about the long, hot days, evening thunderstorms, smell of sunscreen, and everything that comes with summer on the east coast that makes it seem as though all the summers that came before- summers spent at CATO park, getting my first kiss, cruising the hill and KC, sweating to death during dance, majorette, and band practices, working at Cedar Point, partying endlessly in Morgantown, meeting my husband- seem like only yesterday. There is something so timeless about summer. When I’m at the pool or driving with the windows down or watching a gorgeous sunset at 9:00 p.m, I can’t be sure if I am 13 or 31.

Pretty sure I’m closer to 13. Although, the next morning I was closer to 41.

Lending itself to this notion of a timeless summer is the fact that next month I am getting together with three childhood friends to celebrate our 20 year anniversary!!! Ack! It’s been 20 years this August since I stood outside of Lincoln Junior High (now granted, this is a very old pic and we went to school there, there was no fence but it was right in front of those double doors that we met)- a school that has been gone for 18 years- and shyly introduced myself to two super cool people who I hoped would be my friends. Unfortunately, I was wrong about the cool part but I still can’t get rid of them after 20 years. We always joke that no one else will have us. We’re planning on getting together in Charlotte and spending the weekend sunbathing at the hotel in our thongs and harnessing our inner ten year olds by spending a day rocking Carowinds Amusement Park. Three of us went there together the summer of 1995 and I swear, I don’t think I have ever laughed that hard in my entire life.

Then two weeks later, I’ll be heading to NYC to see Nikki G walk down the aisle. Sigh… and to think it has been 16 summers ago that I first met her and 5 summers ago since she did the nicest thing that someone has ever done for me. Funny story about how we first met. The summer of 1991 I became friends with her brother who was a lifeguard at my pool. Her cousin flew in from New Jersey to stay with her brother while she and her parents went to New Jersey so I didn’t meet her BUT I did meet her cousin and we started a little summer fling. Nothing serious as I was still pure but we had a couple of make-out sessions after downing bottles of Boone’s Farm (Strawberry Hill, baby) and girl, I thought I was so wild. Anyhoo, apparently tongue-wrestling wasn’t wild enough of a story to tell his cousin and all his friends so he told them all that we did the DEED!!!!!!! OMG!!!!! Ok, well not exactly OMG because for one, I had no idea YET that he had told people that and two, I liked the idea of having a bad girl rep without actually having to do any bad girl deeds. So fast forward to the start of school and I am so excited to meet Nikki G and become friends with her as we were going to be in dance company together and I figured since I had already met her brother and cousin, we would be fast friends. Little did I know she thought I was the biggest slut bag EVAH and she wanted nothing to do with me. I later caught wind of my new reputation and quickly cleared the air with her that I was not a ho bag and I have been in love with her ever since.

Don’t you love a happy ending?

Wow. What a rambling resurgence into the blogosphere!

I couldn't have said it better

2007-07-06T10:49:00.001-04:00

What an awesome post.

Thank you.

Triality

2007-06-27T22:31:00.000-04:00

This picture is inspired by this photo.

The female breast is quite functional and more often than not in the United States, is recognized and appreciated for the function on your left (my right).

Breastfeeding (especially the breastfeeding of a two year old) is often seen as gross, dirty, unnecessary, and something that gets in the way of the aforementioned man-centered function. Those things couldn't be further from the truth.

It boggles my mind to think about the double standards in our society regarding female breasts:

Big, bouncy, and out of control for a man's (or female's) pleasure? Quite all right. More than all right, in fact. Breasts can sell everything from cars to hamburgers.

Milk producing and attached to an infant and a (shock, gasp) toddler? Put those pillowcases away you crazy hippie.

The idea that breasts for sexual pleasure and breasts for breastfeeding are mutually exclusive is totally and completely wrong. Breasts are for both.

Even more than that, MY breasts are for ME.

Mother Culture

2007-06-27T13:06:00.000-04:00

I am so digging her work.

Check it out.

In the news

2007-06-22T09:01:00.000-04:00

YAY!!!!!!!

YAY for new laws but BOO that we even need laws in the first place and double BOO on the decreasing rates.

File this under "tell me something I don't already know".

Goose is two

2007-06-21T21:56:00.000-04:00

I swear, I'm taking Goose turning two much harder than I ever took me turning thirty... and well, considering it didn't bother me a bit to hit the big 3-0 (I'm like fine wine, baby), one could say that the Goose turning two is hitting me pretty hard.

MY BABY IS TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

MAKE IT ALL SLOW DOWN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Whew.... now that I have THAT out of my system.

I just can't believe "my baby" and "two years old" even go together in the same sentence. I look forward to watching her grow and change and mature but for some reason- perhaps because she is the youngest... or perhaps because she it still nursing- I view her as being such a... well... baby.

Two trips around the sun does not a baby make.

Sigh.

We did have a great day today. While I worked a half day, the husband took the kiddos to the park, zoo, and McDonald's where they all had a blast. When I came home from work I meant to use the time getting ready for the Goose's second birthday party on Sunday but instead I napped in bed with the husband and the Gavinator while Goose napped in her room.

We all woke up and enjoyed a dinner at Red Robin where the kids got free ballons and a visit from the Red Robin itself (Goose fell in love with Red Robin! She hugged and kissed him and dude will not stop talking about it. As soon as she got home she picked up her fake phone and began to tell whoever was on the other end "hug, kiss, Robin. Hug, kiss, Robin". I see she's the type to kiss and tell) but no free birthday cake. I was bummed about not getting a birthday freebie so I took another balloon. Take that Red Robin!

We then went downtown and listened to some good music while the kiddos munched on Marble Slab ice cream and chased a bunch of other kids around in the green space- an awesome patch of grass in the middle of our downtown. Unfortunately, the Goose took off running on the sidewalk and crashed and burned and wound up with a giant fat lip but she recovered nicely. Some motrin and time with Boo Boo Bunny (a frozen bunny rabbit used to reduce swelling) once we got home made it all better. I was afraid it would affect her nursing to have a lip three times its usual side with a giant cut to boot but she was able to nurse without problem.

An awesome day for my awesome girl.

I'm too tired to upload pics from our day but here is my photo tribute entitled "Where This Road Takes You, My Dear". (Click to enlarge) This photo says all that I am too tired to say:

Happy Birthday, my sweet, sweet wonderful girl. Thank you, God.

Image of the Day!

2007-06-21T08:44:00.000-04:00

The Gavinator was Image of the Day over at Parent Dish yesterday!

I really dig the picture they chose:

It was taken by the husband but processed by me. Were a good team.

Oh.... sigh.... I'll have a post up later about how distraught I am that my BABY girl is TWO today.

Redemption

2007-06-12T08:40:00.000-04:00

The boy. He has finally redeemed himself.

While Gavin was struggling to take a poop (yes, in his diaper... I have decided his college roommates can potty train him), he informed me "mommy, it's hard to poop." In my very best dietetic tone I told him, "well, you know what you need to eat more of", to which he gleefully replied "FIBER!!!!!!!!!". I asked him "do you know what foods have fiber in them?" and he answered "kashi, fruits, and vegetables."

Then later that day he came across a magazine I left in the living room and said "oh, I need to put this up!" So he picked up the magazine and put it in the bathroom.

Ok, so my kid can't crap in a toilet BUT he has a firm grasp on the nutrional/gastrointestinal implications of fiber, good dietary sources of soluble and insoluble fiber, AND the need for reading materials in the bathroom.

Booyah.

Hallelujah

2007-06-10T22:13:00.000-04:00

(Click and enlarge)

Hear it here.

Heaven must have programmed you

2007-06-07T22:00:00.000-04:00

Hear it here (oh how I love this song).

Officially old

2007-06-06T21:55:00.000-04:00

Oh my gosh... I was just listening to John Tesh's radio show and they played Blues Traveler's "Runaround".

Runaround.

The song that circa 1995 was blasted from my stereo day and night. The song that was played during dozens of college cookouts at our ultra cool apartment on Jones Avenue in Morgantown... the song that was played at every frat party that spring... the song that I rocked out to the summer of 1996 at the H.O.R.D.E Festival in Pittsburgh AND Cincinnati... the song that embodies my youth...

The song that is now being played on adult contemporary radio shows.

Ummmmm....

Oh my gosh... I listen to John Tesh's radio show.

I'm old.

Warning: Boob-related rant ahead

2007-06-06T08:59:00.000-04:00

Three of my good friends just had babies and that means three things:

1. My ovaries are achin’ like crazy
2. I am constantly being regaled with stories of all night feedings, C-section staples and scars, and changes in color and amount of lochia … thus ending the aching in my ovaries.
3. I get to talk about BOOBIES!!!!!! Woot woot!

I think that given my profession, time spent hosting on Babycenter, time spent breastfeeding and pumping, and my willingness to discuss everything from plugged ducts to breast compressions anywhere and everywhere, I am considered somewhat of a “go to” gal when it comes to all things lactation. I have probably said “seedy, mustard-colored poop” and “breast” in the same sentence while touching my own breasts (because for some reason when talking about breastfeeding I get all “tune in Tokyo” with my self) than legally allowed in 47 states.

I’m in heaven.

The only downside to this poop-breast-touchingmyself cocktail party that I have going on is that I have to hear all the awful, awful advice my struggling friends have received from family, friends (friends of the non-booby loving variety), and DOCTORS!!!!!

Argh! Doctors who don’t know nothing about no boobies are the bane of my existence! I can almost forgive the “well-meaning” family members and friends; like all of us they were probably brought up in a formula/bottle feeding culture and they don’t know anything but doctors!?! Either admit that you don’t know anything about breastfeeding and send your patient on their merry way to a lactation consultant or take a class and buy a book! I am seriously wondering if there is a class intended only to teach OBGYNs and pediatricians how to perfect the art of saying “you need to supplement with one ounce of formula after each feeding” as the answer to any and every breastfeeding ailment.

Before people who don’t know me read this and think I’m all anti-medicine (hello, I work in the medical field) and anti-formula (hello, my son received gallons upon gallons of formula during the first 16 months of his life), let me just say that I am NOT anti-medicine and I am not anti-formula.

I am merely anti-ignorance and anti- the firm grip formula companies have on the medical field.

I am anti- doctors learning everything they think they need to know about breastfeeding from the back of an Enfamil can.

We live in a society where everything is “well, the doctor said…” and people don’t take active roles in their healthcare so every time a breastfeeding advocate without M.D. after their name speaks up against the old “give ‘em formula” line perfected in medical school with advice based upon current lactation science, advocates are made to look like crazy hippies running around with eight year olds hanging off their boobs screaming “don’t believe your doctor!!!!”

Honestly, I think if doctors would suck it up and just shut the hell up and admit they don’t know anything about breastfeeding and then pass the torch to those who do- no matter if they have MD after their name or not- then I think it would do wonders for breastfeeding rates in this country. It is so difficult to advocate breastfeeding when it goes against what "the doctor said".

Fortunately, my friend trusted my judgment and went to a lactation consultant and had everything I told her confirmed verbatim (even I don’t pretend to be a lactation consultant) and things are now going swimmingly. Well, as swimmingly as life with a newborn can go.

A week in pictures

2007-06-01T08:41:00.000-04:00

(Click to enlarge)

Gavin's Graduation

They are sitting in front of the Ten Commandments... apparently the 11th commandment is thou shalt not both look and smile at the camera at the same time.

Balloon Festival

Gavin's first gymnastics meet:

Playing at a friend's house

She kept trying to pick the baby up and feed her by dropping chex mix on her head:

Memorial Day Party

I don't know who was more freaked out... her or the talking flamingo:

A storm

Trying something new with my photography:

Three full rows in Explore!!!!!!!!!

I'm so excited, I'm so excited, I'm about to lose control and I just can't hide it!!!

O...M...G

2007-05-23T20:31:00.000-04:00

Tomorrow is Gavin's last day of preschool. This morning I asked him if he knew tomorrow was his last day and he told me "I'm very, very sad, mommy. I really, really love preschool."

Sigh. So cliched but it really does seem like only yesterday....

Tonight I said to him "look, you had popsicle, you're naked and shivering, and you just peed in the backyard.... it's time to go inside and have a bath."

Add that to the list of things I never dreamed I would say... outside of college.

Lactivism at its finest

2007-05-21T11:03:00.000-04:00

"Ewwwwwww! I can't believe you're still nursing her! She's almost two... she has teeth... that's just gross!"

"Yeah, well, you're gross."

Weekend Update

2007-05-20T12:40:00.000-04:00

Friday night downtown with the family- a Greek festival and Downtown Jazz:

Saturday- Flickr meet-up with Blu Sun, Center of the Universe, and The Butterfly Girl:

Sunday- playing outside in the water:

He told me he was wearing his hat

2007-05-18T09:05:00.000-04:00

Just in case I failed to mention this week that living with my son is like living with a drunken midget:

OAM Record!

2007-05-16T08:27:00.000-04:00

14 in Explore at the SAME time!

Oh, and I couldn't resist creating a self portrait to go with yesterday's song- "Sailor".

I'm editing this post because LOOK! Two full rows! Sixteen in Explore, baby!

Uh-huh

2007-05-15T17:10:00.000-04:00

I'm sorry but if a lesbian tells you "I'm just not a sausage person", it doesn't matter if she is talking about sausage the food- it is pretty stinkin' funny.

At least I thought so.

So very sweet

2007-05-15T15:49:00.000-04:00

The Goose and the Gavinator are Image of the Day over at Parent Dish!!!!!!

G Training

2007-05-15T08:37:00.000-04:00

Over at 365 days I really developed a style of expressing how I felt with song lyrics and then using those song lyrics to come up with an idea for a picture:

Fighting for your relationship? I give you Soldier

Marveling over the love for your child? I give you Little Wonders

Felling a bit randy, baby? It’s Still the Night

Missing someone? Ask them to Return to Me.

And so on and so on. I have a ton of them.

I’ve grown so used to relying on songs as a means of expression that I’m finding it a bit difficult to blog. (Harnessing my inner Mary Catherine Gallagher) I guess that if I had to pick a song to sum up how I feel today it would be Sailor by Tracy Chapman.

Ummmmm. Yeah.

See? That type of expression doesn’t work so well in blog format.

So please bear with me as I try to get back into blogging and resort to talking about what I know best: boobs and poop. Actually, I’ll spare you the boob talk and just get straight to poop.

The Gavinator will be 4 in September and is still not pooping in the potty. I haven’t really forced the issue because in all honestly, I know my kid and dude is completely freaked when it comes to pooping in the potty and is not playing around at all. I’m worried if I force the issue he will begin to hold in his poop, stretch out his colon, and he’ll wind up with life long chronic constipation and ummmmm, having him fully potty trained really ain’t worth a lifetime of poop chute issues.

On the other hand, if I don’t put a diaper on him when he needs to poop he could just decide to start pooping wherever he wants to and ummmmmm, having him fully potty trained is not really worth a lifetime of living in a house that smells like poop.

I’m at a loss. I really don’t know how to handle this issue and I use the term “issue” loosely as it really isn’t something I’m worried about. I’m pretty sure I’m doing the right thing by not forcing the issue but then again, I would love to have him out of diapers- especially poopy diapers.

Grace accidentally pooped in the potty on Mother’s Day (thank you, Goose) and by accidentally I mean we were doing our usual stick her on the potty before bath routine and she pooped. It wasn’t like she came up and told us she needed to do it. We made a HUGE deal out of it and we decided to start trying to potty train Goose but as you can see from the e-mail the hubs sent me yesterday at work, day one of Goose training can best be summed up by “holy crap if we keep this up my entire house is going to smell like Goose urine forever” (witty, I know):

Just an fyi.......i've had Grace in panties for about 2 hours and it has been a failure...yes I know it's going to take time. So far she has sat on the potty about a dozen times with no results. She has gone pee pee in her panties twice now so im going to put a diaper on and try again later....she's almost out of panties. I'll get more at walmart this week. Oh and nothing from Gavin yet but he has yet to need to poop.......

Side note: Reading that e-mail from the hubs really made me miss the days when he used e-mails as foreplay

Eek! I just inadvertently admitted that we shop at Walmart! Don’t tell the debate board!!!!

Anyhoo, when I got home from work yesterday the Gavinator begged for a diaper so he could poop. I decided to ride the wave of Goose just pooping on the potty and see if we could use that as an incentive to get Gavinator to give it a try and I said no and stuck him on the potty. Since I have developed some educational tools at work regarding potty training (not be hater because I have such a cool job and get to talk about poop so much… nobody likes a hater) so I know some things that can be done to ease the pooping experience. I made sure he was comfortable and I got a little stool to support his feet and I got a couple of books for us to read. I remembered that one of the education tools suggested having the child blow out through their mouth to encourage pooping so I started blowing and encouraged Gavin to start blowing like he was trying to blow out a candle. He asked me why and I told him it would help him poop.

I mean, right?

Next thing I know he has his head down between his legs blowing into the potty and when I asked him what he was doing he told me “I’m blowing out my poop!!!”

I mean, right?

People, you couldn’t make this stuff up. Me and Goose sitting on the bathroom floor, books everywhere, and Gavin up on the potty, feet supported by a stool, with his head between his legs trying to blow out his poop.

Good times.

On the bright side, as soon as Gavin was done trying to blow out his poop, I sat Goose on the potty and she pooped. Of course, Goose has never had a problem with pooping.

I really hope you already ate before you read this post.

And here I thought Goose pooping in the potty was my Mother's Day miracle

2007-05-14T10:04:00.000-04:00

A letter I received via FlickrMail:

Amanda, I feel so strange writing this e mail, but I finally got a minute to send you this and I feel compelled by your last photo. My name is *****, I live in ******** **, but I was in MN when I discovered you. I found your blog one night while I googled "SSRI's" and "breastmilk". You had made a comment that Goose likes her breastmilk spiked with ssri's on another persons blog and, well the rest is history. I followed your blog and then over to flickr 365 because I, like you, am a mommy of two little people and feel crazy love for my kids and then just plain crazy at times. Nicholas is 3 and Elliott just turned one and it has been less than easy for me. (Obviously, check the ssri reference) I have looked to your blog and flickr photos when I felt like motherhood was going to drown me and no one would jump in to save me. I have a great partner who is a great daddy, like your hubby, and from the outside I am sure that I look like I have the perfect life, but this chaos inside that I a facing is scarier than anything I have ever done. I read your "homeostasis" entry and burst into tears.
I just wanted you to know that you are so brave. Brave for putting a piece of you out into the world. Brave for having babies and raising them the way you do. Brave for going to work everyday and helping people. I don't even know you but I have to say as another mommy, I am so proud of what you have given to other people with your photos and words.
Homeostasis can be an elusive state to achieve and with all of the chaos we deal with everyday, it's amazing that anyone ever really settles down and has time to just "be", let alone "just be happy". I trust your judgement to leave the pressure of performance that 365 must be, please know however that you touched many peoples lives, but speaking for me, you touched mine. Sometimes we forget that it is not only the large, loud, spectacles of heroism that make changes, but the small, selfless, brave acts of integrity that are heroic as well.
Your kindness, slightly self-depricating humor, unabashed love for your kids and your penchant for quoting song lyrics made my days brighter, and I wanted you to know. I have a song that makes me feel better when my chaos takes over and perhaps it would make you smile as well, if not at least to know there are other people out there who have been unsettled and overwhelmed. It's "grey" by Ani DiFranco.
I hope that you "find your paradise", thanks you for making me smile, *****
ps. Oh, and thanks for recommending the "fridge DJ", we totally rock out to Annie-Ooh on a daily basis. Leapfrog is a much better teacher then I will ever be. :)

It made me cry. The good kind of cry, though.

365 days was a crazy, crazy experience. I really hated quitting not just because I HATE quitting but also because it is so, so amazing when people like ***** see my pictures and "get" me.

It's nice to be gotten.

Since becoming a mom, I don't feel "gotten" very often.

I haven't addressed it here but I'm sure many of you know that I left 365 days on day 153 because it was causing a lot of heartache at home. It took up a good chunk of time and I was sharing more of "me" with people online that I was at home or in real life. You can only imagine the kinds of problems that can cause.

It's nice that some good came out if it.

Happy Mother's Day

2007-05-13T11:59:00.000-04:00

Rock on.

Famous Last Words

2007-05-12T10:57:00.000-04:00

I told Gavin he could water the flowers.

Ummmm, yeah.

To me From hubs

2007-05-11T08:10:00.000-04:00

Happy Mother's Day to Me
Happy Mother's Day to Me
Happy Mother's Day Dear O-A-M
Happy Mother's Day to Meeeeeeeeeeeee

The Secret

2007-05-10T15:22:00.000-04:00

This morning I went to “Muffins with Mom” at Gavin’s preschool in honor of mother’s day. Before we left the house I told him how excited I was to be going to school with him and he told me “No! You can’t go to school with me!” Sweet. Love you, too, kiddo.

On the drive to school he told me that he didn’t want to sit me and that I could sit with Ella and he was going to sit with John David. Right. Because John David squeezed your giant head out of his nether regions so of course you should want to sit with him at a mother’s day breakfast.

As it turned out, I was the fetcher of muffins and juice so he wanted to sit with me but he wouldn’t let me eat. He took the muffins off of my plate and put them on his and ate all of them. The Gavinator is not that big of an eater so I imagine the only reason he ate all four mini muffins was so I could not eat the muffins. He also knows I am entirely too vain to make a second trip to the buffet with a hundred other women looking on so he had covered all the bases of “operation starve mom at the muffins for mom breakfast”. Awesome. I can hear the sales from my mom diet book skyrocketing.

However, the craziest thing about the breakfast was not that my son did not want me to go, did not want me to sit next to him, and did not want me to eat. It was as I was trying to get my butt back to work in time for a meeting that Gavin did decide I was worthy of his love and would not let go of my leg that a woman came up to me and told me that she had been dying to meet me and she just knew I must be something special.

Come again?

I thought people spreading tales of my glory in bathroom stalls ended in Morgantown.

What the hell was she talking about? She thinks I’m special because my kid is totally and completely insane and I have made it three and half years without institutionalizing him? She reads my blog? Follows my 365? Thinks I’m special because for someone who is as flat chested as a 12 year old boy I manage to talk about and show off my ta-tas daily? (speaking of the ta-ta’s, they’re fine… thanks for asking)

As it turns out, it was none of the above. She was dying to meet me and assumed I was special because I’m married to a man who… GASP… SHOCK… takes care of his children!!!!!!! She told me she sees the husband drop off the Gavinator and pick him three times a week with the Goose in tow and she just doesn’t understand how with all his testosterone and scrotal tissue he manages to do it when her husband can’t even play catch with her kids and would NEVER do what my husband does. She went on to tell me that I am SO lucky and SO blessed and she is SO happy to finally be able to see the kind of woman who could get a man like that.

SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

I leaned in and told her that he cooks, too, and you would have thought I told her that he was making me orgasm at that very moment from one mile away.

I don’t know what is more sad: that she is married to a man that can’t even play catch with his own damn kids or that another female would think it was so earth shattering terrific and amazing that a man is doing what 62 billion other women do EVERY. STINKIN’. DAY. Not only that, women do it with NONE of the crazy accolades that this woman expressed to me. Hell, I do what he does and no one runs up to the husband wanting to meet the man who is married to me! I also hate the insinuation that I must be so flippin’ special for him to that. It was almost like she wanted me to let her in on my secret of how to make man take care of his kids.

You want to know my secret? Don’t procreate with a piece of shit who won’t even play catch with his own kids and uses a Y chromosome as an excuse.

Now granted, I am one hot piece of ass with a magical vagina but he doesn’t take care of his own children for those reasons. He takes care of his children because they are his children. That’s what parents- male and female- are supposed to do.

Don’t get me wrong. I do know I am lucky and I do know I am blessed and my husband is a pretty terrific father and while maybe he can’t always make me orgasm from a mile away, he’s got a pretty good average.

Mini Me's

2007-05-07T08:35:00.000-04:00

I think one of the scariest things about being a parent- besides, ummmm, you know, the whole tiny life being totally and soley dependent on you thing- is when you see your children beginning to look and act like you. Really, the look thing I can handle because while it is freaky to look at the Goose and totally and completely see myself, it is quite another to have my child act like me.

While the Goose may look exactly like me, the Gavinator is all me. From his OCD to his sensory issues to inability to listen to Stevie Wonder without dancing..... the boy is me made over. Which is kind of cool when he I see him happy and smiling and waving hello to strangers and offering hugs and kisses when someone is sad and hurt but it is really, really scary when I see his short fuse and the way he freaks out when something isn't going his way or when his sister is in his way. I know that freaking out is standard preschooler behavior but it is the way in which he freaks out.... the way he sounds..... what he says.... how his eyes open wide..... it's all me.

But the markers down his pants? All daddy, I'm sure.

Back in black

2007-05-01T08:21:00.000-04:00

Well, it's more like back in a red tank and camel cords with brown flats but whatever, I'm back to blogging.

Although technically, I never really left blogging, I just kind of sort of moved it over to Flickr's 365 days. I've missed it over here, though, and many of you have been so kind as to visit me on my photostream even though I have been insanely absent on all of your blogs. I'm sorry about that. Showing as much T&A on a daily basis over on Flickr has been seriously time consuming but I think I'm going to back off over there and put more into here.

So get on over here and give me a hug, you big 'ol lug, you.

So what's new?

I took the Gavinator for a haircut over the weekend and he didn't even shed a tear. That's HUGE considering every hair cut in his entire life can be summed up by this. This time, he chomped on a sucker while peering out from under his long bangs to watch a video screen filled with dancing, singing scissors.

I'm no child safety expert but I can't imagine showing young children images of dancing, singing scissors is ever a good thing.

He is loving preschool and I tried to break the news to him that preschool was almost out for the summer and he sort of sighed and rolled his eyes and told me "no.... no it isn't, mommy". How he puts up with me and all the crazy stories I tell him, I will never know.

The Goose is growing up entirely too fast. She is talking and singing up a storm and still nursing 1-4 times a day. I've thought about weaning a lot lately but that's a whole 'nother story. We'll see. My favorite moments with her are usually bedtime. I rock her and sing to her in the glider in her room and she sings along with me. She's not quite two and some of the words are wrong or just garbled but she sings loud and proud and I swear, it is like being in a bar and the drunk sitting next to you is singing along with the jukebox. As she starts to drift off, her voice gets softer and she begins to trail off but sometimes she'll awake and join back into the sing along loud as ever only to trail right back off again.

Between her and the naked boy running around, motherhood is turning out to be more like college than I ever could have dreamed.

Because who doesn't love a baby who swears?

2007-04-18T08:11:00.000-04:00

Holy crap this is funny.....
.

Oh..... my......

2007-04-14T14:55:00.000-04:00

Imitation is the finest form of flattery, right? RIGHT??????

And the Bloggy Goes to.....

2007-04-12T10:46:00.000-04:00

Now granted, my blogging has fallen to the wayside since joining 365.... although technically it hasn't fallen to the wayside.... more like has moved over to Flickr.... BUT I am beyond excited to find out I am up for Best Photography Blog!

I have a snowball's chance in hell of winning and I didn't even know such a thing as "Blogger's Choice" existed until a very kind person left a comment on my blog, but I really dig taking pictures so it is "cooler than Clem" to be nominated and have received FOUR votes in this category!!!!

So how do I find out who nominated me and who voted for me???? And how many naked handstands to I have to do to show my appreciation?????

Image of the Day

2007-04-03T09:19:00.000-04:00

One of my favorite pictures of the me and the Gavinator was image of the day over at ~~Blogging Baby~~ Parent Dish yesterday!

How much to you figure I owe Irene Nam for referring to me as "oh-so-multi-talented"?

Prima Gooserina

2007-04-01T15:46:00.001-04:00

Two Reason I don't belong in South Carolina

2007-03-23T10:25:00.000-04:00

#1

#2

Real moms don't always nurse

2007-03-23T09:26:00.000-04:00

But sometimes they do.

This isn't part of the Real moms meme but in keeping with the theme (and my strong desire to show off my new favorite pictire!!):

Real Moms

2007-03-21T11:17:00.000-04:00

Real moms can't walk to the bathroom without tripping over toys:

Once they are in the bathroom, real moms can never be alone:

Of course, they never sleep alone:

Real moms have magical hands that can turn tears to giggles in an instant:

And while they love the giggles, they sometimes wake early to enjoy the quiet:

Real moms play on the swings....

... and on your ponies...

... and in your ball pits...

... and in your tunnels...

Real moms love whoever invented the portable DVD player:

And they don't get mad when you turn yourself into your own art canvas... they take pictures, instead:

Real moms want their pre-pregnancy body back but know you are so totally worth it:

Real moms are sexy:

Real moms feel lonely:

Real moms feel joy:

Real moms feel sad when they realize that you are growing up... and there is nothing we can do to stop you:

Real moms love to dance with you in their arms.... more... than... you... will... ever... know:

Sometimes real moms get a late night out:

Real moms love their early morning wake up kisses.... even when they don't love the early morning:

Real moms know there are not enough hours in the day:

Reals moms put kids above a clean house:

And real moms make time for the "big kid" in their life:

Real moms multitask:

Real moms will let you watch the same video over and over again:

Real moms love their families:

Real moms never dreamed life could be this good:

Or their bras could be this bad:

Real moms are....

Working Moms Finding Time for Children

2007-03-21T11:13:00.000-04:00

No sleep? Check

Filthy house? Check

Husband who? Check

Did they use me in this study?

Four Years

2007-03-16T21:44:00.001-04:00

Make an on-line slide show at onetruemedia.com

Better or Worse

2007-03-05T21:46:00.000-05:00

"I'm sorry I've been a turd."

"I'm sorry you've been a turd, too."

Dark Days

2007-03-04T12:32:00.000-05:00

At least I can take pictures of that which I cannot write.

Pantygate

2007-02-28T09:51:00.000-05:00

I posted a picture over the weekend on Flickr of me in a brand, spankin' new pair of Victoria's Secret panties and it has started a pretty interesting discussion amongst a couple of us regarding the potential effects of scantily clad mothers on Flickr on their children.

First of all, while I recognize that a photograph of a woman in lacy panties is going to be deemed "sexy", a sexy pic was not my sole intent with that photograph. I thought it was a well composed shot with all the lines on the underwear, curtain, and door and I loved the lighting on both hips. When I saw the photo was immediately a crotch shot and nothing more to those who viewed it, I decided to not make it my 365 day photo and instead went with the family-oriented shot of the Gavinator, Goose, and I vacuuming. The whole point of doing 365 is to daily try and capture my life- from the mundane to the monumental- and a crotch shot does not fall into that category. I see the photograph differently. It was more than that.... to me, anyway. Anyhoo, I can't control the way other people interpret my photos and I wouldn't want to.

I am a woman. I didn't stop being a woman when I got pregnant or gave birth or breastfed. If anything, all of those things make me MORE of a woman. I see nothing wrong with tastefully done photographs of the female form and (shock, gasp) my chidlren see me in my underwear all the time so what difference does it make if there is a tastefully done picture of it? My kids know that mommy is a girl, breasts are for breastfeeding, and if you're potty-trained, you wear underwear. End of story. As I said over on Flickr, unless photos of me that others may or may not find "sexay" halts the production of Cheerios, I don't think my kids will care... not now... not ever... and I certainly don't believe they will be harmed in some way.

What do you think?

No Mistaking

2007-02-27T08:06:00.000-05:00

1977

2007

E-mail from old friend = Day Made

2007-02-26T13:04:00.000-05:00

I was cleaning through some old things yesterday while packing to move. I had to laugh at a couple of school pictures you gave to me. On the back on the 9th grade picture you wrote "to my funny, stupid....best friend", in 10th grade you wrote "to my funniest, stupidest...best friend". In a year's time I moved to the top spot. Quite an achievement.

Anyway, it just brought back a lot of fun memories.

Love,

Your funniest & stupidest BFF, Cathy

This is the only shorn Britney shot I'll be recreating

2007-02-23T19:28:00.000-05:00

Three Bugs in a Rug

2007-02-22T08:44:00.000-05:00

So we're okay
We're fine
Baby I'm here to stop your crying
Chase all the ghosts from your head
I'm stronger than the monster beneath your bed
Smarter than the tricks played on your heart
We'll look at them together then we'll take them apart
Adding up the total of a love that's true
Multiply life by the power of two

Happy Love Thursday

Like Mother Like Daughter

2007-02-21T08:42:00.000-05:00

I'm afraid the Goose has some serious explaining to do.

As her mother, I would like to think she sang her ABC's to get all those beads.

I knew I should have never let her hang with the makers of "Toddlers Gone Wild".

Or maybe I only have myself to blame.

On Broadway!!!!!

2007-02-20T08:26:00.000-05:00

I think this may be my new favorite pic!

The man I didn't even know I could hope for

2007-02-19T09:42:00.000-05:00

Like a lot of other teenage girls in high school, I had a lot of romantic hopes and dreams- all of which centered around my high school beau. We dated throughout high school only to break up weeks after I left for college. I was devastated as I thought he as "the one". No, no, strike that- in all my 17 year old glory, I KNEW he was "the one".

I never gave up the hope of the perfect man who would love me unconditionally as I would him. What I didn't know was that when my hopes were realized, that man would be 1/10th my age and that our good morning kisses would look a little something like this:

I hoped for a lot..... but I never even knew I could hope for something like this.

Happy Valentine's Day

2007-02-14T21:22:00.000-05:00

What a difference a year makes.

Harnessing my inner coked-out hooker

2007-02-13T12:52:00.001-05:00

Who has just been slapped.

Some random thoughts from OAM

2007-02-12T10:18:00.000-05:00

1. I saw a bumper sticker this morning that I LOVE: Draft SUV Drivers First

I think this is now my second favorite bumper sticker. Only after, of course, the sticker that is a play on GWB's campain sticker with the big "W"- but if you look closely, after the "W" is orst president ever.

2. I watched the Grammy's last night and I now have major girl crushes on Mary J. Blige and Shakira and one boy crush on Ludacris. I love MJB for her body AND her talent (I teared up every time she accepted a Grammy.... I LOVE me some MJB), I love Shakira only for her body, and I love Ludacris for his beautiful milk chocolate skin... and the fact his hit "Money Maker" makes me shake what my mama gave me.... although it has never made me any money.... shocker, right?

Although the Grammys lost all cred when they gave a Grammy not only to John Mayer but also to Carrie Underwood. Boo hiss.

3. What the hell are the ad execs at Hardee's thinking? Can you imagine the MENSA meeting that must have been going on at their corporate office when some dillhole blurted out "You know what the American people want to hear? Do you? Do you? They want to hear people chewing. They want to hear people chewing big, fat burgers LOUDLY. And you know what else they want to hear? Slurping. Oh yeah, Americans love to hear loud chewing and slurping. You know what else I bet they want to hear? The sound of french fries being scraped against paper in an attempt to claim the last remaining molecule of cheese and burger grease. Oh yeah. Nothing turns people on and really perks up an appetite like the sound of a person chewing, slurping, and scraping. In stereo. Yeah, baby."

God I hate Hardees.

I have failed as a mother AND a dietitian

2007-02-09T12:39:00.000-05:00

This morning, the kiddos and I were sitting at a red light at an intersection across from where I work when Gavin started yelling "McDonald's! McDonald's!! I see McDonald's!!!" I looked all around and was all "where do you see a McDonald's" because while there is a McD's close to where I work (face it, there is a McD's close to EVERYTHING), it is nowhere near the intersection we were sitting at. Gavin pointed and told me "over there!!" So I looked in the direction he was pointing and there, waaaaay in the distance on the other side of a forest of trees, I could barely see pieces of the bright red, trademark McDonald's roof through the tree limbs. Seriously, the boy was able to assertain that it was in fact a McDonald's by seeing 1/1000th of the roof from practically a half mile away AND with a million trees blocking the view.

Nice. One point McDonald's. Zero points me.

Later in the morning I called the husband to see how thing were going and I could hear Grace in the background screaming "Donald's! Donald's!" I asked the husband if that was what I thought it was and he confirmed that yes, the Goose was begging to go to McDonald's.

Sweet. Two points McDonald's. Zero points me.

No excuse

2007-02-06T08:54:00.000-05:00

I had two kids close together, I like caffeinated beverages, I enjoy shopping at bargain department stores, I prefer to wear comfortable clothes and the weekend, and yes, I've even been divorced... so believe me when I say beyond a shadow of a doubt that none of things are ever- EVAH- an excuse for walking around like a filthy crack whore with a skullet on your head and puke on your sleeve.

That is all.

Now back to regularly scheduled blog.

You decide

2007-02-05T08:11:00.000-05:00

Ultra adorable piggy tails for the Goose....

Or two brand new torture devices for the Gavinator....

I'll give you a hint, the answer starts with a "b" and ends in a "th" and has an "o" in between.

Three

2007-02-04T13:29:00.000-05:00

The three reasons the Gavinator got sent to time out three times in three hours:

1. He peed on his sister
2. He wiped his boogers in my hair
3. He spit on me and then his sister

Boys are gross.

Three degrees of funny-a$$ sheet

2007-02-03T17:18:00.000-05:00

From salad dressing war to man with eight nipples in three easy steps:

You start with this.

Then you get this.

And then somehow, you end up with this.

The pigs!

2007-02-03T16:01:00.000-05:00

Things are on the mend now but I CANNOT believe what has been going down over at The Lactivist's Blog.

The Pork Board can definitely go pork themselves where the sun don't shine.

My favorite photo yet

2007-01-31T20:36:00.000-05:00

I wish I would have.

Damn. Why didn't I?

That, my friends, is the question that keeps me up at night.

Puh-leaze

2007-01-31T08:48:00.000-05:00

Food or Lewd??

Honestly, if you have to ask that question, then I have this one question for you:

Kick in the ass or in the crotch?

Gym-nice-tics?

2007-01-30T08:33:00.000-05:00

I took Gavin to gymnastics last night fully accepting of he idea that this would be our last gymnastics class. We had paid for the whole month so I wasn't going to let this last Monday go to waste and besides, I must admit that I was holding out on the hope that there would be some major turn-a-round in his behavior.

I talked up this "last" gymnastics class all weekend. I told him that unless he participated in class.... unless he listened to me and Miss Erica.... unless he did what he was supposed to do... we would NOT come back to the gym. If he cried or refused to do class we were going to go home and that was it. Gymnastics all done. The entire drive to the gym I quizzed him on the consequences of his actions:

"Gavin, what happens if you cry?"

"We go home. We don't come back."

"Gavin, what happens if you don't listen to me or Miss Erica."

"We go home. We don't come back."

"Do you like class?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to do gymnastics?"

"Yes, I do class. I do my exercises. I listen. I be good."

Lo and behold, this was his best gymnastics class EVAH. He did the entire class from the warm-up to the stretches to the boring old circuits he has done sixteen million times before to the bars which are right next to a giant fan that he usually becomes obsessed with and refuses to do class. He was fantastic and performed effortlessly and appeared to have a lot of fun. He was happy and excited and even hugged me after all of his big moves. Are you ready for this?

He even waited his turn.

Waited.
His.
Turn.

Snowball fight in hell at 3:00. Be there or be square!!!!!

So, it looks like we're going to give gymnastics another month. If he acts up during a class or doesn't want to particiapte, we'll just leave and then talk to him all week about the upcoming class and give it one last shot. I hope this class was his last "last shot" but we'll see.

I also kind of sort of bonded with a new mom. Her son is three and a half and pretty much acted like how Gavin acted last week the entire time. She looked embarrassed and frazzled and I just smiled and asked if she wanted to do some DNA testing to find out if our boys were related.

At the end of class, the instructor called the kids over to get stamps and coloring sheets- their weekly rewards- by saying, "alright kids, over here with me for stamps!!" I muttered under my breath, "alright parents, over with me for margaritas." New mom heard me and smiled, high-fived me, and told me we definitely needed to make plans for a night out with margaritas.

That's right, I got a high five. I think new mom and I are on our way to becoming fast friends. We both have crazy sons, a penchant for liquor, and we both have been moms for so long that we have forgotten how to appropriately interact with other adults- hence, the high five.

The "Officially a Mom" Diet

2007-01-29T09:07:00.000-05:00

Alright, folks. I have finally decided to write a diet book for all those mom out there wanting to lose the baby weight. It is based upon years of extensive research, personal experience, and cutting-edge nutritional science. I have even made an easy to follow photo tutorial for the laymans.

Step 1.

Prepare something to eat. Doesn't matter what it is. You can eat whatever you want on this diet. The only caveat is that your children MUST be nearby when you are eating.

Step 2.

Sit down to eat.

This is where the magic happens. Once your children see you with food, they will quickly shun whatever is on their plates in favor of whatever it is you are eating. Like lions circling a gazelle, they will move in closer and closer and then finally....

Step 3.

For every bite you take, give the kids three... or four.... or hell, give them the whole thing if it keeps them from screaming their heads off.

Photo tutorial:

What do you think?

I'm going to make millions!!!

Mama's Got a Brand New Bag

2007-01-25T20:49:00.000-05:00

For Jill!!! :)

I was given a brand new Coach bag today! I have always dreamed of carrying a fancy schmancy handbag instead of my $5.00 Old Navy special.

Of course, by Coach, I mean a knock-off Coach that my friend's husband bought for me in China as a thank you for giving her all of my maternity clothes. It is supposed to look like this bag and it does! I'll probably never own the real deal but at least I have a rockin' good fake.

So here I am with my fake Coach and my real mom hair, very real husband's (clean) underwear, and a very, very real t-shirt that is probably older than most of you.

Gymnasty-ics

2007-01-23T09:09:00.000-05:00

So much for the Gavinator becoming the next Mitch Gaylord and starring in American Anthem II and giving me and his father all the revenue from his Wheaties ad campaign.

I hate to say it but I don’t think gymnastics is working out.

For the past couple of months or so, gymnastics has been more temper tantrums and chasing Gavin across the gym than front flips and handstands. It sucks because Gavin LOVES gymnastics and does have natural talent but he is bored, bored, bored. What started as a class with one on one instruction has now become a class of 7 with most of the children being in the 18 month age range with not one but TWO parents ~~getting in the way~~ assisting.

I don’t know what happened around the beginning of December but we had a large influx of new students. This did not suit Gavin for numerous reasons with the main ones being:

1. The new students took away all the attention of his beloved Miss Erica

2. We pretty much had to go back to the beginning and repeat skills over and over that he had mastered and grown tired of months ago.

3. He no longer has free reign of the equipment. For months Gavin could jump on the trampoline when he wanted to or walk across the beam whenever it suited him. Since it was a class of him and sometimes, one other girl, we could go out on the floor or jump off the horse or do whatever. He never had to wait his turn. It was much more active.

4. The new kids are itty bitty and they take forever. Never mind the fact we’re are repeating the same skills and circuits over and over again so the newbies can catch up, the newbies are half Gavin’s size and he has no patience for them. None. I imagine it is like a roomful of his sister and all he wants to do is clothes line them and spit on them.

This new arrangement does not work well for me because Gavin is upset throughout the whole class and begging to do the things he used to be allowed to do and I’m given the task of trying to keep him and line and not send one of the newbies to the emergency room while I’m keeping Grace happy. Remember when Gavin’s teacher told me it was fine if I brought Grace even though it was parent taught because she would be there to help? Yeah right. She doesn’t even acknowledge Gavin any more. She is too busy helping all the itty bitties even though they have two parents out there.

And don’t even get me started on the parents. Between threatening to spank their 18 month old for not stretching properly and giving me the big fat eyeroll when I drag a screaming Gavin off the trampoline because six months into gymnastics he has to learn to wait his turn, I’m definitely not feeling any love for them. The only mom I kind of sort of bonded with started her daughter in a new class when our class got so crowded.

Last night it all came to head. I was tired of spending an hour every Monday wrestling Gavin to the ground while he screams and cries while I stuff Grace full of goldfish to keep her happy. So twenty minutes into the class I picked Gavin up and carried his writhing and screaming body- while pushing Grace in the stroller with my hips- out of gymnastics. The gym was packed because they are preparing for a meet and everyone stopped and stared and not a single person helped me. Not even when I struggled to open the door while Gavin started hitting me in the face and Grace started shrieking because she dropped her Mickey Mouse (have I mentioned that Grace is obsessed with Mickey Mouse? She is. She sucks his little round nose. I imagine she’ll wean off of me onto Mickey).

I finally got Gavin in the car and he was sobbing and screaming for me to let him go back into gymnastics. He promised he would listen. He promised he would do the class. He promised he would stop crying. I wanted to take him back in and give him another chance but I have threatened over and over again that if he spent another class screaming and crying then we were going home so we were going home.

He sobbed and sobbed the whole way home and begged me to turn the car around. Finally he wailed “Mama! Class is my best friend. It’s my best friend, mama. I love class. I love gymnastics. I want Miss Erica. Gymnastics is my best friend. My best friend, mama.”

So, of course, I did what any other mature mother of two would do and started to cry, as well. I just hate that he is so miserable doing something he loves because of how the dynamics of the class has changed. I know we can find something else he loves and this is just the beginning of the joys of finding out what fits for your child through various ages and stages but I hate to make the decision for him that it is time to quit.

I hate quitting.

Note to self: Do not impose own neuroses on children.

Very perceptive

2007-01-22T09:42:00.000-05:00

The boy.

Not only is he a damn fine body paint artist- see exhibit A- he is also very, very perceptive.

Exhibit A

Yesterday morning I was cranky because not only was I sick, but the Goose would not stop nursing or asking to nurse (and by asking I mean pawing at my chest and trying to squeeze herself in between my legs only to slap me across the face when I told her "no". So much for nursing manners) and the Gavinator was doing everything in his power to piss her off even further by kicking her and getting just close enough to her where he wasn't touching her but she couldn't move without touching him. Good times.

Finally I just put my head down and my hands over my ears and screamed.

I looked up to a very shocked Goose and an inquisitive Gavinator.

Gavin leaned in and put his hand on my shoulder and said,

"We drive you nuts, mommy?"

BTW, sorry I have been a bit AWOL but our computer is on the verge of death. When I went to bed last night the husband had the cover off the tower exposing all of it's precious innards that keep my in contact with the rest of the world and allow me to hang onto what little bit of sanity I have left. If the computer doesn't make it, I swear I'm selling a kid to pay for a new one.

Ok, maybe not a kid but I'll definitely pimp out the chihuahua to some chihuahua farm.

A new day

2007-01-18T09:30:00.000-05:00

It has come to my attention from several people that since joining Flickr’s 365 days, my blog has started to suck the proverbial arse. I take this oh so constructive criticism two ways:

1. As a compliment. If my blog started to suck the proverbial arse when I began 365 days, then that must mean there was a time when my blog DID NOT suck the proverbial arse. Woo Hoo! Go me!

2. I need to preserve some of my creative energy, time, and camera space for the blog.

I must admit that I have fallen deeply and passionately in love with 365 days. There are some amazing people who take the most wonderful photographs and tell the most insightful and intriguing stories. In the blogosphere, I only read and comment on “mommy blogs” or “baby blogs” because, afterall, I am a mommy blogger. I started this blog with the intent of writing about motherhood and the ins and outs of everything from cracked nipples to potty training to speech delays.

I began 365 days with the intent of telling through pictures and writing who I am and that yes, while I am a mom, there is a lot more to me than that. It has been a liberating journey of self discovery thus far. I know, sounds corny that taking daily pictures of myself at an arm’s length could be anything more than narcissism but it’s true. In 365 days, I find myself following the photographic tales of people from all walks of life- everyone from the college student to the mom of seven to the gay couple who just celebrated their first Christmas legally married after being together for 20 some years.

Between Babycenter and blogging, it seems as though for the past three years I have done nothing but pigeon-hole myself into a mother/child-centric world and while that world is equally as fascinating and important, it has been freeing to remind myself of how the rest of the planet lives.

I don’t know why I cornered myself on this blog to being a strictly happy, bubble-gum, and all “gee aren’t my kids so preshussss and isn’t my husband soooo hawt” blog. I’m like mom pop. I’m the musak of the blogosphere. I think for some reason I felt uncomfortable showing anything but the gummy-gummy gumdrop side of the mommy me on this blog…. like I would be doing my children an injustice if I talked about how badly I want to kick their father in the nuts on a space I dedicated to talking about them.

I hope you don’t mind if I try taking this blog in a little bit of a different direction. Bear with me.

The file grows larger...

2007-01-17T21:23:00.000-05:00

File this under things I never thought I would hear/say:

"Do you know what dingleberries are?"

"No, what?"

"You know, when poop gets stuck on your butt hair."

"Oh, yeah.... I hate that."

Tha little gem of a conversation was overheard at work!!!

Oh, and I was also sent an e-mail asking about extended breastfeeding that Blew. My. Mind.

You can read more about it here.

More say formula is "as good as" breast milk

2007-01-15T10:33:00.000-05:00

"A growing number of Americans incorrectly believe that infant formula is as good as breast milk, while more are becoming increasingly uncomfortable with mothers breast-feeding their infants in public, the CDC said."

....

"This may at least in part be due to the introduction of formulas that contain long-chain polyunsaturated fatty acids in 2002, the researchers note, which have been advertised as "mimicking the positive influence of breast milk" on brain and vision development. Also, the researchers note, spending on advertising for infant formula rose from $29 million in 1999 to $46 million in 2004"

Read more here.

I don't find this hard to believe at all. Very sad.

Workin' for the weekend

2007-01-15T10:21:00.000-05:00

We had a fabulous weekend thanks in part to the simply divine weather. It was sunny with highs in the upper 60’s and bit on the breezy side. There is something about being able to open the windows and let the sunshine and the clean air in that makes living with two ankle biters who want nothing more than to beat the crap out of each other in between asking for something to eat- something that they will either

a. Throw on the floor thus ensuring the Chihuahua and/or vacuum will have a well balanced meal
b. Chew it up and spit it back out this ensuring the Chihuahua and/or vacuum will have a well balanced meal that requires no chewing
c. All of the above

- more bearable.

On Saturday I took the kids shopping and promised if they didn’t touch anything I would take them to the park. The no touching rule lasted for about a nanosecond before I lowered the ante to if they didn’t break anything we would go to the park. I didn’t want to not go to the park because they couldn’t keep their paws off of all the goods and let’s face it, the park is more for the parent than it is for the kid. I mean, sure the kids have fun and all but the parent gets to let their kids run around like crazy in a kid safe area and bonus! There is no cleaning up afterwards! Plus, if you run ‘em good and hard then not only do you get a little calorie burn, the kids will probably nap better and longer and oh holy day, you might actually get a shower.

It didn’t work for me on Saturday but on Sunday I took them to the park, took them on a walk and we went for ice cream so they were really worn out by the time we got home and I was able to enjoy a hot shower for the first time in 48 hours. It is such a cliché but I swear, I never knew how much I would appreciate a shower after becoming a mom. I really don’t think it is something people who aren’t parents can truly understand- the bliss that is the kid free shower. It's right up there with my thinking it would be a GREAT idea to fortify the nation's food supply with Vitamin Z. Sure, I may have thought it was an ok idea before kids but now? GREAT idea.

Sunday evening I had my neighbor and her kids over for a “playdate”. I hate the term “playdate”. I mean, why don’t we call it what it really is? I had my neighbor and her kids over so my neighbor and I could drink a glass or two of wine and have an adult conversation that did not involve telling the other one to move their penis while the kids ran around and beat the crap out of each other thus ensuring an early bedtime (or so we hoped).

Hmmmm, “playdate” is easier to type. I think I’ll just stick with “playdate”.

Say what?

2007-01-13T11:16:00.000-05:00

Files this under "things I never thought I would hear/say":

Gavin: "Mommy! She keeps hittin' ma penis!!!!"

Me: "Well get your penis away from her!!!!!"

De-lurking Week!

2007-01-11T10:13:00.000-05:00

And I almost missed it!!

I don't make the rules, I'm just the blogging sheep who follows them so come on, leave a little comment.... and if not here, at least on one of the blogs you visit this week.

Feel the love

2007-01-11T08:28:00.000-05:00

Another Love Thursday has rolled around and you know what? Either my dosage of Zoloft has been up to the point that I am numb or the kiddos constantly acting like rabid ferrets fighting over a blob of peanut butter has finally gotten to me because I am just not feeling the love.

I mean, sure, I LOVE my kids and my husband and my friends and my family but I'm not feeling especially lovey dovey if you catch my drift. Sure, I could not do a Love Thursday post and just do a standard "dear God please help me not sell my kids to gypsies" post but I did take a picture last night- the last picture I took before Gavin threw my camera onto the ground and broke it- that pretty much sums up the kind of unconditional love I feel for my kiddos:

Because if I can grow 'em, nourish 'em, raise 'em, play with 'em, and do everything I possibly can FOR THEM and they still climb all over me and pull my hair and grab at the boobages when all I want to do is spend five minutes on the Photoshop doing a little something just for ME and I still manage to not sell them to the gypsies?

Then that is love.

Happy Love Thursday.

Photo Skills

2007-01-10T09:38:00.000-05:00

Some of my newest photo creations...

Who knew that my camera had macro? Not me! A month or so ago someone on Flickr suggested I do a photo in macro and I was all "I don't know nothin' about no macro" and "is that somethin' on Photoshop?" and they were all "no, it is a feature on the camera" and I was all "my camera doesn't have macro" but then I picked up the instruction manual for my camera and lo and behold, my camera has macro!

I have had the camera for two years and have never read the instructions. In fact, I rarely read the instructions to anything. I'm the shake it up and let the pieces fall where they may kind of person. Perhaps I'm not as technologically impaired as I once thought. Queen of half assing? Yes. Tech impaired? Maybe not. It is amazing what you can do when you actually read the instructions.

This is my newest photoshopped photo entitled "That's beautiful; what is that? Velvet?" It is kind of sort of sucky with the yellow splotchy legs but I really like the crop and the composition and I think the skirt turned out well. I was going for a glowy, warm sheen to the legs (to hide the fact I haven't shaved in a week and I have bruises all over my legs) But I missed the mark. I'm proud of it nonetheless.

Not Your Mother's Milk

2007-01-09T12:56:00.000-05:00

Officially a hippie?

While I would definitely give a big, fat negative to someone other than me nursing the Goose (unless it was under dire circumstances... and sitting around in a drum circle with my ta-tas hanging out does not count as dire, in my opinion), I did indirectly wet nurse by providing expressed breast milk for a friend's baby and I must admit this article has several good points:

Formula milk has only been available since the early 1900s. Before then wet-nursing would have happened as a matter of course if the mother was ill or absent. In three generations it has become socially unacceptable.

and

All our objections to wet-nursing, says Shaw, are cultural: "The exchange of body fluids between different women and children, and the exposure of intimate bodily parts make some people uncomfortable. The hidden subtext of these debates has to do with perceptions of moral decency. Cultures with breast fetishes tend to conflate the sexual and erotic breast with the functional and lactating breast."

Oh, and "superlative breasts" is my new favorite phrase.

Playing Favorites

2007-01-08T09:06:00.000-05:00

This weekend Gavin told me:

"Thank you for cleaning, mama. You did a GREAT job."

"My dinner is yummy! You make me happy with my yummy dinner."

"I was sad because I missed you. I love my mama."

How stinkin' cute is that?? I tell you if he keeps this up AND starts pooping in the potty, he will totally be my favorite child.

Photoshop

2007-01-05T08:51:00.000-05:00

Here it is- my first photoshop project. Yes, it sucks and it is extremely raw around the edges but I'm happy that I was able to conquer "layers" and "selection" by bringing the blue out of the black and white photo and separating myself from the background. I wanted to place my self on a starry night background but I didn't have the time to figure it out. Or rather, Gavin started drawing all over himself AND the living room wall and I decided my time was better spent elsewhere..... say supervising the boy's own artistic endeavors.

Love Thursday- The Kiss

2007-01-04T08:57:00.000-05:00

Last night I was in a foul mood. I don't know if it is holiday fallout or what but I have been feeling tired and strained and in serious need of some "me time". It all came to a head last night when I was trying to take my self portrait for the Flickr 365 days pool. I had an image in mind for what I was trying to capture- curled up in the fetal position with a forlorn expression on my face- but Grace and Gavin took advantage of my back up in the air and both started climbing on my back and wanting me to "giddy up" because not only am I their mom, I am their personal pony.

I tried to get them off me and raised my voice and told them to just "go away". I mean, I don't ask for much! All I wanted was a few seconds to take a picture for a little hobby 'o mine (and by hobby, I mean obsession) and for the love of all things that are holy, please stop climbing on me and Grace, would you please stop trying to get down my shirt!!!!!

In true kid fashion, they did not heed my request to "go away" and instead, I just chilled the eff out and let them play on me. I'm glad I did. Grace started asking for a kiss (a "diss") and I was able to snap some lovely captures of our kisses. It's not going to be too much longer before she is totally icked out by kisses from her mommy- especially the mouth kisses! It was perfect timing as I had my camera handy. We all snuggled and played and Gavin asked for a "group hug" and sitting there all lovey dovey with the kiddos, my entire mood changed.

Of course, the moment was fleeting. Soon the Goose and the Gavinator began beating the crap out of each other which led to them chasing each other around the house which led to Gavin puking pizza up all over the dining room (anyone know how to get pizza puke stains out of carpet?) which led to the dog peeing in the living room which led to me getting totally stressed out and snapping at the husband which led to me wanting to curl up in the fetal position all over again.

Needless to say the fetal position pic ended up my picture of the day as it best summed up my day 28:

But were it not for my kiddos, I wouldn't have had these moments captured on film. I wouldn't have had the dark cloud lifted from my soul for even a few precious minutes.

Motherhood- life for that matter- is not always some wondrous and beautiful thing in which every nano second is enjoyed. There are days when the bad outweighs the good... the puke and poop outweights the hugs and kisses... the feelings of "leave me alone" outweigh the feelings of "come a little closer"... the tears outweigh the smiles.

But the amazing thing about motherhood?

There is always sweet, sweet love.

Besides, if it weren't for the dark times, would I really appreciate the light?

Happy Love Thursday.

Welcome Home, Honey

2007-01-03T08:52:00.000-05:00

What you don't want to hear when you get home from work:

"Don't use the toilets. I'm going to Lowes."

Behold the power of T.V.

2007-01-02T11:48:00.000-05:00

Well, the powers of DVD, anyway,

When shopping for the Gavinator for Christmas, I decided tis the season for learning the alphabet- or as Gavin calls it, “my letters”. I bought him the Leap Frog Letter Factory and the Leap Frog Learning Refrigerator DJ to go along with all his other Leap frog alphabet learning toys that have been handed down from neighbors and cousins.

Now before you get all “lazy parenting” up on me for using annoying electronic devices to teach my child his letters, I have been trying to teach him his letters the old fashioned way. I sing the alphabet song to him while brushing his teeth and I read alphabet books. I point out letters on billboards and signs we are out and about and in preschool, he learns a letter a week which I reinforce at home.

That said, the Leap Frog Letter factory is a far better parent or teacher than I will ever be. He fell in love with the DVD at fist sight and if it was up to him, we would watch it on continuous loop from sun up to sundown (and maybe… just maybe…last Saturday when I was home alone with the kids ALL day and it was raining ALL day, I may have just let him do that. I may have. And by may, I mean did. So sue me.).

When he wakes up in the morning he asks to watch “his letters” and sometimes when I deny him he cries “but mama! I want to LEARN my letters!!!!!” What do I say? No, you can’t learn? No, you can’t sit still and be quiet while watching a video that not only teaches you your letters but also keeps our house peaceful because you’re too busy learning to beat up your sister?

I am only human, people. That video has been burning up our DVD players since Christmas morn. Folks, it has beat out Cars as the DVD that must be played over and over again until mama finally breaks down and gets her dosage of Zoloft upped.

Although, sure, it may be annoying but I kid you not, the Gavinator KNOWS his letters. He doesn’t know it in an “I can sing my ABC’s” kind of way. He knows it in a “can point to any letter and tell you what it is and what sound it makes” kind of way. He is obsessed with letters. He sits and watches me draw letters while he says what they are because he WANTS to, not because I’m trying to hold him down and convince him that learning is fun and please learn so that you can grow up and get a full scholarship to a fancy school and make a ton of money and support me and your father. Please. I mean, not to brag, but he is so good at his letters, it's only going to be a short time before Gavin is spray painting explicitives on government property.

This isn’t the first time I have resigned myself to the fact an inanimate object is a far better parent than I.

Or is it me? Is there a Leap Frog Grammar Factory?

Oh my

2007-01-02T08:42:00.000-05:00

Cereal in a bottle?

Could millions of Feeding Choices Debate Board posters be wrong?.

Happy New Year

2007-01-01T20:23:00.000-05:00

I hope everyone had a safe and happy new year. I can't believe that it is already 2007.

Two thousand and seven marks my ten year anniversary as a college graduate. I went on for two more years to get my Master's so it doesn't technically mark my anniversary as leaving the college life to go out into the real world, but it is a milestone nonetheless.

It feels like yesterday...

Ten years before ten years ago I was eleven years old and in the sixth grade. It felt as though it took a hundred years to get from there to a college graduate but it only feels like a minute to get from a college graduate to here. Why is that?

We had a nice new year's celebration. We thought we were going to spend a cozy evening at home but at the last minute we were invited to a party we couldn't pass up. We got home from the party around 10:00-ish so we could put the monsters in bed and then the husband and I battled it out on the Trivial Pursuit board.

I won by default because we wanted to move on to *ahem* other things *ahem* rather than finish the game.

I was hoping the kids would sleep in because they got to bed so late but apparently God hates me because they did that weird kid thing where the later they go to bed, the earlier they wake up and I spent most the day in a haze- just playing on the computer and breaking up their wrestling matches until it was time for the Gator Bowl to start.

My alma mater- West Virginia University- battled Georgia Tech in the Gator Bowl and there were several moments when I thought we were going to get our Mountaineer butts handed to us on a platter but lo and behold, we pulled through to victory.

I missed most of the game because Gavin wanted to go outside and play and I wanted to indulge him. I remember when I was a kid and my dad would spend his weekends watching football and I HATED IT! I hated it with a passion. I didn't understand football and I thought it was boring and for the life of me I never got why when he told me there were only two minutes left in the game, it would take 30 minutes for the game to be over.

I love watching me some Mountaineer football but I love watching me in this:

a lot more.

I know it all goes to fast... and it really is the little things.

Happy New Year, friends.

Amanda.

Five Things

2006-12-30T11:22:00.000-05:00

Sorry I haven't been around much! Between this, days off of work where I'm trying to get things done (i.e. rid my house of that dog piss smell- I EFFIN' HATE MY CHIHUAHUA!!!!- and getting rid of sixteen thusand toys that the kids never touch and the chihuahua just pisses on), and wiping Grace's butt, getting a blog post up daily has fallen to the wayside. I do have several in the work; just need to find the time to finish.

Anyhoo, a quick five things:

1. Rocky Balboa- Seriously? This is an actual movie? That wasn't a Saturday Night Live fake commercial I saw last night? I mean, seriously? Another Rocky? Serious? Why?

2. Dreamgirls- Who is the third chick and dude, wouldn't it suck to be her? It's all Beyonce and Jennier and Eddie Murphy... does anyone know the third girl's name? Anyone?

3. One million dollars to the first person who can get Gavin to start pooping in the potty. One. Million. Dollars.

4. Someone left an XM satellite radio and tons of accessories on my porch with a note that says "Happy New Year". Did you leave it there? If so, holy freakin' moly- THANK YOU! This is going to be a tough one to pay forward.

5. Does anyone else own a Leap Frog refrigerator DJ? My kids LOVE IT and I tell you what, "Annie Ooh" is the dopest song to hit the fake air waves EVAH! I want to figure out how to upload it to my iPOD.

Poop Plague

2006-12-28T09:22:00.000-05:00

Grace has had poop issues for about the past eight days… and by poop issues, I mean about two or three times a day her butt explodes and lets loose what I can only imagine is either the same toxic fluid that flows in Satan’s bloodstream or the gelatinous ooze that is found on the side of the road after a dead animal bakes in the afternoon sun for a week. Maybe two.

Seriously, people, it is F. O. U. L.

I called our pediatrician yesterday not necessarily because I thought she could do something about it (what does one prescribe for butt explosions? A cork?) but because I had vented enough to Lloyd about our daughter’s toxic hiney and felt the need to burn into someone else’s brain the sights and smells of Grace’s diapers for the past week.

The nurse called me back promptly and told me that “this” was going around and as long as Grace was eating and drinking and seemed fine that I didn’t need to worry. Not worry? Ummmm, tell that to my senses- namely sight, hearing, and taste. Yes, it is so foul you can taste it without actually tasting it. It gets inside of every fiber of my being. It haunts my dreams.

I tried to explain this to the nurse but she poo-pooed (pun intended) my concerns and told me to give it another week. I asked her if she could at least give me the number for HAZMAT but again, she dismissed me. Before we hung up, though, she gave a few dietary tips like make sure she is eating yogurt (check) and drinking plenty of fluids (check). I told the nurse that she is drinking plenty of water and still nurses A LOT during the day.

Wait for it….. Waaaaiiiiiiiittttt for it……

“Ohhhhhhhhhh, she’s still nursing?”

Then the nurse asked if I had changed anything in my diet recently that could have somehow passed to Grace via the boob juice and triggered all that is evil in the world to blow out of my child’s ass thrice daily. Yes, I gnawed on some of Satan’s bones with a side of road kill last week. Eureka! That’s it!

Argh. It really drives me crazy how little some health care professionals know about breastfeeding. I really like my pediatrician and her staff but between the doc telling me I needed to night wean Grace when she was two months- TWO MONTHS- old and now suggesting that MY diet could somehow be responsible for this evil plague that has fallen upon our house I feel like I need to offer to do an inservice on how NOT to continue the spread of breastfeeding myths.

You heard it here first. Breast milk may cause diarrhea. Hmmm, didn’t know breast milk was used in Mexican cuisine.

Sing-song

2006-12-27T10:38:00.000-05:00

*All to the tune of Santa Claus is Coming to Town*

Gavin- "You better watch out, you better not cry, mama help me I can't remember the rest"

Me- "You better not pout I'm telling you why"

Gavin- "Santa Claus is coming to town!"

Merry Christmas

2006-12-25T13:26:00.000-05:00

Wishing everyone a very happy day!

The kids were good this year....

See my Tabblo>

But I was very...

VERY good.

Hot Shakin' Llamas

2006-12-24T10:02:00.000-05:00

My sister and her family came down for the day yesterday and the kids had a blast playing. My five year old niece was an absolute hoot. She is at that fun age where her mind is going a bazillion miles a minute and she isn't afraid to share all her cooky thoughts (unlike my almost 8 year old niece who is already exhibiting tween-like 'tude..... as in, I overheard her say "I'm ON the PHONE, Daddy!!!!!).

5 year old niece- "Cool people walk slow!"

Me- "Why do cool people walk slow?"

5 year old niece- "So they don't crap their style."

Me- "Don't you mean cramp their style?"

5 year old niece- "NO! CRAP their style."

Alrighty then. Although she does have a point. I mean, how cool could one be if they walked really fast and crapped their style? I mean, crapping one's style is the most uncool thing I can think of, actually.

She also told a tale of "hot shakin' llamas" (NO! NOT MAMAS) that for the life of me, I could not make heaads or tails out of but I think hot shakin' llamas is the most awesomest phrase ever. If I ever start a band, we will definitely be the Hot Shakin' Llamas.

(yes, my sister and I are well under way to beginning the next Aryan nation with all of our blond hair, blue-eyes spawn)

I got a fever

2006-12-22T08:59:00.000-05:00

And the only prescription is NOT more cowbell!

It's more babies!!!!!

I have a raging case of baby fever. Three of my coworkers are pregnant and they are so stinkin' cute and all curvy and glowy and "baby this" and "baby that". One of them had their big ultrasound to find out the gender (boy) on Tuesday and we watched the video yesterday afternoon and I was practically in tears the entire time remembering my ultrasound videos with the G-unit and the insane amount of excitment that came with seeing the "hotdog" or the "cheeseburger" for the first time. It is amazing that something that resembles a grayish blob at worst and Skeletor at best can be the most amazingly beautiful thing in the world.

Argh. I let one of my coworkers borrow my maternity clothes and I swear, clothes that a mere 2 years ago I bitched about wearing are now the cutest duds EVAH and I just want to be able to wear them again! I have reached out to rub the preggo bellies so many times (yes, I'm one of THOSE annoying people now) that I'm just waiting to be called to Human Resources to be reprimanded for harrassment.

It's not that I don't feel complete right now. I do. I feel very complete. I'm overwhelmed with completeness. I am Mrs. Complety Completedness from the Land of Completia.

I don't even think having another baby would cure the fever. I know that if I did have another baby, once the baby stage came to an end, I would probably be longing to have another baby and then once that baby stage ended, I would long to have another... and another... and another....

I'm sick.

Sh!tter's Full!

2006-12-20T08:53:00.000-05:00

Me

2006-12-19T11:53:00.000-05:00

I was tagged yesterday by Kelly to post a self-portrait. I read Kelly's post yesterday while I was at work so I couldn't do a self portrait right there and then so I waited until I got home and took a picture at the first opportunity.

This is a pretty easy tag for me to complete thanks to the fact I am participating in Flickr's 365 day pool where I have to take a self portrait every day for 365 days.

The theme of the tag is "come as you are" and I cannot think of any better way to express me just coming as I am:

A mom of two who just wants to use the bathroom in peace.

I tag Melissa, Venessa, and Sunny

Bird for dinner

2006-12-18T13:46:00.000-05:00

Perhaps I have lived in the south too long because this seriously made me laugh out loud.

Christmas Light

2006-12-18T09:55:00.000-05:00

T-minus seven days until Christmas and I am done with all my shopping.

It truly is a Christmas miracle.

Watch for all the flying pigs, people.

I really don’t get into all the Christmas hub-bub like shopping or decorating or baking. It’s just not my thing. I work with all these crazy middle-aged women who are constantly freaking out over how “only one of their seven trees are decorated” and they “just can’t do anything with the mantle in their sitting room” and “oh my goodness heavens to Betsy, they can’t find their Christmas linens and their 17 million family members are going to be in town tomorrow” and “can you believe they started shopping on December 26, 2005, and they still aren’t done with all their shopping and ooh, they are so tired from staying up until 4 am gift wrapping last night”.

I just smile and nod because they might as well be speaking another language. In fact, I wish they were speaking another language because try as might to block out their nasally rants, some of it manages to infiltrate my crazylady-brain barrier and at least if it was in another language, me no comprehendo.

I so do not get why people do this to themselves over the holidays. They bitch and whine and moan over how much work it is to get out their holiday Pfaltzgraff , bake 16 million dozen cookies, hyperventilate over the Belk’s flier in the Sunday paper, and then have the audacity to suggest that people like me who see no reason to go bat-shit crazy shopping and take out a second mortgage to put inflatable snowmen and 14 million twinkling lights in my yard don’t understand the true reason of Christmas- the big JC’s birthday.

What would Jesus do? He certainly wouldn’t skip line in front of a woman holding not one but TWO children at the Macy’s counter and He certainly wouldn’t lament to all that are forced to listen about His binge eating on cookies and fudge and hey, I may not have the Bible memorized verbatim but I’m pretty sure He wouldn’t need to up his dosage of Paxil to help deal with the hanging of Christmas towels.

Maybe I’m just lazy, but when I think about going all crazy for Christmas and spending tons of money and redecorating my entire house for the season and cooking and eating until I want to puke, I just want to curl up in bed until the New Year. It’s just so not me and for the life of me, why would anyone want to drive themselves nuts doing it all? What’s the point? If you’re celebrating the secular aspects of Christmas then why would you want to anything that increased your stress levels to that degree and if you’re celebrating the whole “Jesus is the reason for the season” aspect of Christmas then you’ve really missed the ark. I’m sure some people enjoy it but most people just complain and declare year after year, “This is the last time I’m doing all this for Christmas!”

We have some lights and ribbon on our house and one small tree with lights- no ornaments (I didn’t want to go crazy watching the kids break all of them and throw them at each other and use the hangers for eye-poker-outers). My biggest display is a silver tree that is used to showcase all of the cards we receive during the season. I don’t plan on doing any baking or cooking- although the husband will probably do some- and if the wrapping isn’t done by 10:00 pm, it can wait until the next day.

I shopped last weekend and this weekend with both the kids and while usually, shopping with the kids would be akin to some sort of extreme sport of Fear Factor episode, I really tried to keep it low-key and move at their pace. It took us four hours to go to three stores yesterday. If Gavin wanted to stop and smell all the perfumes in Dillard’s and stick out his tongue at his reflection in every mirror in New York and Company then so be it. If Grace wanted to ride the elevator a couple of times then we rode the elevator a couple of times. When we went out to lunch and Gavin only wanted to eat the chips and Grace only wanted to eat the cookie then we smiled and made silly faces over their sweet and salty lunch. We put off shopping on Saturday for Gavin to go to a school mate’s birthday party and while all the moms stood around discussing “OMG THE HOLIDAYS ARE SO STRESSFUL!!!” I chased the kids around playing tag. The only time constraint I put on us while shopping was that we had to be done with enough time for the kids to play outside and enjoy our unseasonably warm weather.

The only “OMG” moments during our shopping were when Gavin announced in the middle of the mall “I’M PEEING!!!!!!!!!” and yanked down his pants and underwear right there for all to see. Thankfully, we made it to the bathroom in time. Also, I made the HUGE mistake of trying on clothes in front of Grace. I took off my shirt and she was all “nurse, nurse, nurse, nurse, NUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRSSSSSSEEEE!!!!!” I, of course, had no intentions of nursing Grace because that would have left Gavin with ample opportunity to shimmy out from under the dressing room door and indecently expose his self in front of the entire mall again.

Good times.

Ahhhhhhhh..... Saturday.

2006-12-16T21:45:00.001-05:00

Puppy Love

2006-12-15T08:39:00.000-05:00

The husband- "Good night, inbred."

Me- "Good night, trailer-trash."

Me- "I love you."

The husband- "Don't even tell me you love me. You're from West Virginia; you're supposed to save that stuff for your cousins."

Me- "Whatever. You're just mad because your parents live in a trailer."

Devil in disguise

2006-12-14T15:33:00.000-05:00

Gavin's preschool performace was a smashing success! He was fabulous, the food was delicious and I was able to hold back the tears through the entire thing! I'm not holding back tears of sadness- I am just so proud of my boy! Watching him grow combined with seeing him participate in all these "rite of passage" school functions just leaves me dizzy with thoughts of "OMG HE'S NOT A BABY ANYMORE BUT WHO CARES BECAUSE HE IS GROWING UP AND ISN'T IT AWESOME TO WATCH BUT OMG HE ISN'T MY BABY ANYMORE!!!!"

Gavin spotted me coming out of his classroom and he pointed and yelled "MOMMY!!!"

It was so funny because throughout the whole show the younger kids were pointing out their "mommy" and their "daddy" to all the other kids. Loudly. Like we could hear "yeah, well, there's MY mommy" over the chorus of "Silent Night". I couldn't help but think how many years do we have until the kids start trying to hide who their parents are from their schoolmates!?!

Just like last time, Gavin was more into the clapping than the performing but holy crap when his halo fell off and he couldn't get it back on so he wore it as a boa and then sauntered of the floor wearing his halo boa with his head held high- I nearly peed my pants from holding in the laughter.

(click to enlarge)

Grace liked the cookies. Sure, she liked watching big brother but she liked the cookies more.

Preschool teacher #1- Let's get them all hopped up on sugar and then send them home

Preschool teacher #2- BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Preschool teacher #3- Dude, this is gonna be awesome!

HAHAHAHA!

My God. I love this mothering stuff.

Happy Love Thursday!!!!

Playing hooky from work today

2006-12-14T10:07:00.000-05:00

Ok, so maybe it's not really hooky considering I have permission to not be at work and I am receiving paid time off today but "playing hooky" sounds so much cooler don't you think?

And after last night's Real World post, I can use all the help in the cool department that I can possibly get.

I'm at home because Gavin's Christmas presentation at preschool is today at 11:00. I helped him get dressed this morning in the shirt he made last week at school for this very occasion. I told him he had angels on his shirt and he got mad at me and was all "NOT ANGELS, MAMA!!!!! PAINT!!! IT'S PAINT!!!!!"

"Fine. I'll compromise. Not just angels but paint in the shape of angels."

"NOT ANGELS!!!! NO ANGELS!!!!! PAINT!!!! PAINT!!!!!"

"Fine. You have paint on your shirt."

So here is the Gavinator in his "NOT ANGELS PAINT" shirt:

I just hope I can keep the waterworks to a minimum this time around.