I love saying "I told you so." I really, really do...

Hey, guess what? Guess what Justin figured out tonight?

That's right. His algebra problems that were soooo haaaarrrrrd yesterday that we were subjected to his foot-stamping, exasperated-pre-teen-groaning angst for HOURS. Hot damn. What do you know? Mom DID know best! I DID know that he could figure it out! Amazing. We even LAUGHED ABOUT IT.

Hello hormones. Welcome to my son's life.

Oy.

A note to my husband (should he get bored at his night-shift job tonight and venture onto my blog, in which case, "Hi Honey!"): Do NOT, I repeat, DO NOT mention that damn Father-Daughter dance that you guys are hopefully attending in 3 weeks to Corinne again. Or, at least, DO NOT mention it until AFTER I have paid for it and NO EARLIER than 2 days beforehand. Because the hourly discussions about when you guys will be attending it, what she will be wearing, and how much fun you guys will surely have is no longer cute and endearing. And to have to listen to 3 more weeks of her discussing the in's and out's of this heavenly night will not only drive me to drink(more) but will quite possibly cause me to lock her in a closet with her countless beautiful outfits and sparkly shoes.

Edited to add: Hey Illinois, Wisconsin and Indiana residents!! I have a great giveaway on my review site for you!!

Insomnia post #324

It's amazing what a little bit of sleep will do for your mood. I loathe insomnia. She is the bitch that lurks in the shadows, just waiting for me to feel confident and with-it. An attack of insomnia leaves me feeling weak and disabled. Pathetic and disgusting. Sigh...

After a full 7 hours last night (HALLELEUJAH!) I awoke with EN.ER.GY. and was able to have a moderately decent day with the kids. Corinne had ballet, we scavenged the library, and I managed to NOT strangle Justin over the Algebra work that he "didn't get."

"But what does the "x" MEAN?!? I don't understand! Why not just say 10 instead of 10x?!? This is too hard!!"

insert much gnashing of my teeth as I struggled to not wring his neck...

Anyway, all 3 are still alive and playing Star Wars on the Xbox with some friends. The snow IS sticking (yay!) so we may have a fun break tomorrow afternoon and try to hit the snow hill. We'll see.

However, it WAS only 7 hours of sleep, so this is the extent of my writing ability tonight. My apologies for the lack of scintillating adjectives, but you can check out my giveaways (some new ones are up) on my review blog. Toodles.

Kinda sorta

Kinda sorta feeling the Mondays, today. Convenient for me that it IS Monday, but my blah-ness is really making me, well, blah.

Meh.

Did you know that it's best to wash your hands after playing with Play Doh? Unless you actually enjoy the taste of dried Play Doh as a surprise flavor when you are absent-mindedly chewing on your nails. Anyway. Soap is a good idea. Making a mental note....

Shit. I think Patrick switched me to decaf or something. That has GOT to be the reason because holy cripes, I am TY-ERD and have been drinking coffee all day long and NOTHING HAS CHANGED.

I'm sure the weather has nothing to do with it. I mean, I absolutely adore the January mud that is currently re-freezing while the wispy snow that won't amount to anything other than ice is blowing sideways and upwards. FUN TIMES. The kids can't go out! AWESOME. Love having them cooped up. Love having Play Doh stuck on my socks. Love the darkness for days on end! Love Love Love.

Rawr. Is it April yet?

Sugar and Spice and All that Jazz

Can I just say that I love having a little girl?

I can, can't I? It IS my blog, dammit.

I LOVE having a little girl!

Wanna know what we did today? Want to know what Corinne set up, all by herself? Complete with signs, accessories, chairs, and crowns for "good behavior", she set up a "Makeover spot." Since she's never been to a salon before, I have absolutely no idea where she figured out that there should be bottles of nail polish, tubes of lipstick and hair bows galore for a salon to really soar. She even went one further and added "fancy stuff" like pink towels, princess dresses and beaded necklaces to dangle from the rafters of her princess hut. Check it out...

Concentrating so hard. It's all over my cuticles but she's only 4, you know.

I let her have carte blanche. Whatever she wanted to put on me, she did. And you know what? She actually did a good job! She passed over those tempting blues and purples that always come in the large eyeshadow sets (and never look good on me) and went for my favorite browns and creams. She didn't get lipstick all over my face and even managed to make my nails somewhat presentable. (SOMEwhat...)
She was so excited to wear ALL of the make up, including the fancy lipstick AND mascara. You should have watched her try to wash it off in the tub.... :)
The hairdos, now....
Those are a different story.

But I DID earn that crown she promised because I "behaved so nicely."

I love having a little girl.

It's called "Creative Parenting"

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Two Giveaways at my review site!!

Recently overheard in the house of JAMB...

"Mommy, why don't I have ruffles on my hands?"

"Eh? Wha?"

"Ruff. FULLS. Why don't I have RUFFLES on my hands? I have them on my arms and legs, but not my hands. Why not?"

Eyebrows at full mast, eyes scanning her arms and legs for supposed ruffles and finding none, I ask,
"Um... Can you show me some of these Ruffles?"

A look of utter exasperation at her incredibly naive and ignorant mother, she sharply points to several dots on her arms and legs.

"THESE, MOM-mmeeee! THESE RUFFLES. Why don't I have them on my hands?!?"

Grateful that I had already swallowed my coffee so that nothing was able to shoot out of my nose, I choked out my response of,

"FRECKLES? You turkey! You meant FRECKLES."

"Oh, yeah." giggles behind her hands like an utterly feminine, stereo-typical girly girl. "That's what I meant!"

~~~

Just moments ago, the playful laughter of my 3 kids allowed me time to peruse about 3% of the internet that I wanted to indulge in. Happy for the little things, I ignored the rise and fall of pleasure to indignation to utter joy to fury, begging the internet to "please search faster!", knowing that it would all come to an end when someone finally began to bleed. Instead, I was intrigued to overhear Evan's high-pitched demands upon his brother. I peeked into the room and saw him sitting on Justin's head. In a voice resembling some super-villain from the movies he roared,

"What's my favorite animal, fool?!? That's wrong! You don't know it, so you must paaaayyy!!" Mock punches to Justin's head resulted in hysterical laughter.

"What color underwear am I wearing, fool?!?"

"WHITE?!?" Justin managed to squeak out from under his brother's butt.

"WRONG AGAIN YOU FOOOOL!!!! I'm in pajamas so I'm not WEARING ANY UNDERWEAR!! MUwaaaHAAAAHaaaaa!!!!" More mock punches to Justin's head, followed by even more hysterical laughter.

I cautiously backed away, hoping that the blood wouldn't be shed after all, (seeing as how there were no weapons involved) and began to furiously type it all out, only to hear Corinne belting out,

"What's my name, FOOOOOL?!?"

Sigh.

Jumping on the bandwagon...

I'm always happy when delurking day comes around because I get to meet more of you that read but don't comment. So come on, folks! Let me know. Make my day better! Give me a big number to make my life have greater value!

;)

A trip downtown

After a series of mishaps, we finally made it to the Museum of Science and Industry, yesterday. It was practically empty and a free day (all of January weekdays are FREE! Take advantage of it, folks!) AND I didn't have my daycare baby on Monday or Tuesday so we had had had to go. (Sadly, our attempt at going on Monday fell through due to a car door left open all weekend. Can you say "Dead Battery?")

I adore that museum. Absolutely adore it. My kids respond so well to its layout and exhibits and (unlike the aquarium or Field Museum) about 90% of it doesn't require additional tickets. I absolutely despise museums or attractions that do that to you...

Justin is now much more interested in the periodic table, after seeing it laid out in detail with physical representations. We're considering making our own flip book of pictures of things around the house for as many elements as we can. Could be a fun project!He read Every. Single. Element.
Especially the radioactive ones. Those are the best, obviously.
Who knew there was a rock wall at the Museum of Science and Industry? I sure didn't... The children's play and explore area. Fabulous. All 3 of my kids love it there. Even Justin who spent tons of time making an enormous gear thingy-bob...A baby chick, only hours old, hopping around in front of Evan. It was absolutely adorable to listen to the kids cheering on the chicks that were still in their eggs. Their tiny little egg-teeth would poke up and out of small holes and we watched as the unbroken ones were rocking back and forth. Amazing... This was only moments after Evan successfully cloned a goat's embryo on a hands-on exhibit. The best part is he RETAINED the information and kept describing how it is done. That right there made the entire trip worth the cost of parking.

An entire day out without any arguments, traffic jams, or bad weather! An entire day of honest-to-gosh HANDS-ON learning that we all benefited from! I'm marking this one down as a Good Day and hoping that today continues along the same path!

Confession Time

I have a confession. One I'm unsure of whether or not I should make on this public blog. But this is, as I've said, not only my way to be in contact with all of you virtual people, but also my personal journal. One that I hope to keep for my future. Something that I can use to better understand myself, the decisions I've made and their consequences. That being said, this confession may come as a shock to most of you. Especially those that have known me for so long. I apologize in advance for any distress this admission may cause you...

Here goes...

I have a new love in my life. A love that I am guarding with bared teeth and might consider leaving my family for, should the decision be brought to a head. Them or B? I don't know, folks. I honestly don't know. I mean, my new love only brings me joy and happiness. B never causes me stress or worries and only asks for a bit of care from time to time. Just a few, kindly, quiet words of love and B will do whatever I ask. What more could I desire? To be cared for so completely is a foreign concept to me. One that I never thought I could attain. And honestly? One that I never fully let myself believe was possible.

Oh B... Where have you been all my life? How did I exist before your unexpected entrance into my world? I don't know what fates brought me this luck and to say I am grateful is like saying the sky is blue.
Beautiful, right? Excuse his empty tummy. I had to perform a little of that above-mentioned care after using my new Bissell on our first floor. Our first floor which apparently hadn't been properly vacuumed in weeks. Our first floor which was SO FILTHY that I had to empty the canister 4 TIMES.


4 Times, folks. 4 canisters full of dirt, cat hair, food crumbs, and God Knows What Else that we were living in.

Excuse me while I gag a bit.

You can understand why I am obsessed with my new love, right? You can understand why even the entrance of another new love pales in comparison, right? You can understand why the mourning period for my Hoover (God rest its soul which left us this morning) was brief and quickly forgotten.

Now please excuse me for I have to unlock the bathroom door and gently reinstall the filters that I lovingly rinsed with "warm soapy water". The bathroom that I locked even though my beautiful children did the potty dance all night, begging to use the downstairs toilet.

"No way! Go upstairs. My beloved's personal effects are slowly drying, awaiting my next use! You may NOT be near them!!"

Yes. I actually deprived my children from the closest restroom. I told you I was obsessed.

Now I have to find a way to gently break the news to Patrick...


(Obsessed with cleaning yourself? I've got a new giveaway on my review blog! Check it out!)

Absolutely random collection of pictures and captions that don't go together very well but will nicely fill in the space at the top of my blog....

Whining for cookies. I caved in because dang! They smelled pretty good...
Putting the kids to work. Actually, I did the shoveling while they did the traipsing back and forth from snowy banks to shoveled driveway, creating more work for me. I admit I yelled a bit (ahem) but there has been a lot of snow in a short period of time and the clearing of the driveway is beginning to lose its charm...
...but the snow sure does make for pretty pictures...

...and sibling love. This was just moments before Corinne came inside because she was fweeeeezin and Evan fell headfirst off of the monkey bars. I found him sobbing at the back door because I couldn't hear him over the piano that I was pathetically plunking away at... Lesson learned: slippery, snowy gloves are not ideal for monkey bars.

First sign that Christmas is officially over? When the children are allowed to gnaw on the gingerbread house before it's pitched into the trash.

Gotta love her sense of accessorizing...
My newest love... sitting at the table painting while the kids play in the snow... (I swear I'll post pics of some of the stuff I've done, eventually.)

Hell to the NO.

You know it's been a long, loooong time since you've been to the local mall when you walk inside and don't recognize half of the stores. I was distressed to see the book store was closing up, but you can't believe how high my eyebrows went when I saw the newest addition to the store line-up:

A Puppy Store.

Not a pet store. Not even a dog store. Nope. A Puppy Store. Complete with adorable, waggly balls of fluff that await your impulse purchase. Placed ever-so-carefully just between the playland and its nearest exit, the Puppy Store beckons to every family with smallish children to come on in! Adore our puppies! Support the inhumane breeding of pets!

That damn puppy store at the mall may be reason enough to never go there again. I could feel my resolve to remain Dog-Free begin to waver as their puppy-milled tails wagged so exuberantly that they knocked themselves over.

Corinne's nose was pressed against the glass; her breath fogging up our side while the pups slobbered on their side. I could practically see her mind spinning and envisioning the hours and hours of fun she could have with one of them; Tug-of-war with a sock! Wonderful walks to the park! Snuggles on the couch! Oh, the joy!!! Meanwhile, I was envisioning the holes in the laundry from tug-of-war! The forced walks through the howling snow and wind to the corner with a baggie to carry the poop! And the endless dog hair that would blend so nicely with the car hair that already coats every surface in my home...

"Oh Mommy! Can't we pleeeease get a dog? PLEASE? I love doggies so much! And they love me, too! They're so Cute!!"

Thankfully, I've survived through 2 other four-year-olds' pleas for a canine, and (cute or not) I KNOW how much work a dog entails. To that I say HELL NO. Potty-training another living creature? Committing to the care of yet ONE MORE "person" who not only won't pick up after themselves but will remain perpetually 3 years old in its abilities?!? Dogs are great and all, and there may come a day when I want to own one again, but the idea of being tied down to the house just when we're finally able to randomly leave the home regardless of naptimes, diaper bags and school schedules is not appealing to me. Not. At. All.

"How about we stop at Taco Bell instead?"

Her head tilted and lips pursed a bit. Giving the yapping beagle a quick glance, she grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the door,

"Can I have one with hot sauce? But no tomatoes?"

Go wag your tail in some other direction, guys. This house is remaining Dog Free.

The Power of a Pair of Socks...

The afternoon started off innocently enough. I had finally gotten my rear into action by literally scraping the piles of socks, hangers and miscellaneous clothing articles from the floor of my closet to the middle of my bedroom. "Ta-Da! Instantly clean closet!" Sadly, the clean closet was next to a (now) disastrous bedroom...

Sigh...

Finish reading here...

The Power of a Pair of Socks

Originally posted at the former Chicago Moms Blog on Jan 4, 2010

The Power of a Pair of Socks

The afternoon started off innocently enough. I had finally gotten my rear into action by literally scraping the piles of socks, hangers and miscellaneous clothing articles from the floor of my closet to the middle of my bedroom. "Ta-Da! Instantly clean closet!" Sadly, the clean closet was next to a (now) disastrous bedroom...

Sigh...

And so the shuffling of crap from The Pile to their appropriate drawers, hangers, garbage and donation bags commenced. About 2 hours into it (no joke) and 1 and a half LifeTime movies later (husbands were murdered! Best friends were betrayed!), I stumbled upon My Kryptonite and all plans to destroy The Pile came to a screeching halt...

For in the pile of Socks to Sort (we all have THAT pile, but mine seems to be bigger than necessary for the 5 human beings that reside in this home) I pulled out the teeniest, tiniest pair of sky blue socks ever known to man. But not just ANY baby socks, though. No, these socks were the first pair of socks that I ever purchased for my first child. THE socks. The ones that matched the teeny, tiny little blue outfit with baby Cookie Monster on the lapel. The teensy, tiny, itty, bitty, precious socks that once covered the teensy, tiny, itty, bitty, precious feet of my eldest son (whose 10 year old feet are no longer teeny-tiny, itty-bitty or precious in any way, shape or form!). I folded their cuffs. I laid them beside my own socks. I fitted them upon my fingertips and marveled at how something so insiginifcantly small could undam such a flood of memories.

Tears? Yes.

Nostalgic trip down memory lane? Absolutely.

Enough wistful longing for another baby in my arms to force me to trip down the stairs and write this post (in between hoarsely yelling at said firstborn for arguing with his sister and brother over the television and Oh My God can't you all just BE QUIET because Mommy is trying to write SOMETHING SWEET AND TENDER WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU CHILDREN?!?)

Surprisingly? Yes.

Baby socks: They've got some serious power to 'em.

Ringing in the New Year with a Bang!

Wheeze... Hack... sniffle...

Don't get too close to my blog. I think I'm still contagious. Ugh....

I'd love to leave you with one of my many, MANY posts that have been started but left unfinished due to parental and seasonal duties, but this cold is knocking me down right now. I just managed to run the dishwasher and scrub 3 pans. Basically, the equivalent of washing just the tips of a small boy's muddy fingers and saying "Clean enough!"

Ugh.

I have been able to still my brain's throbbing long enough to jump head-first into my lovely piles of new watercolors, brushes and paper. I have never really allowed myself to experiment with that medium and since I'm such a tightwad, I never indulge in supplies for myself. Thankfully, I got ample goods from both my mother-in-law and my parents so I don't feel like I'm "wasting" my paints on paintings that I'm not 100% thrilled with. Instead, I'm ok with the results and remembering that it's not just the finished product that makes art enjoyable; it's the process.

Hacking so hard while I typed that that my stomach is sore... Better than sit-ups!

Peace out.