Monday, October 31, 2011

happy halloween!

this IS my costume.  i'm a freakishly adorable puppy.  see?

this is as costume-y as they're getting this year.
 bug's in an "everything is SO SCARY" phase, so trick or treating was out.
and i wasn't paying money just for the sake of pictures of him choking his sister in costume.

spoooooooky!

Sunday, October 30, 2011

bringing home chester

Did you come here to read about a batshitcrazy road trip where everyone screamed and no one slept and J and I divorced somewhere around the state line?  Disappointing news for you, then.  Because you guys?  It was like we were in the Twilight Zone of car trips.  Where kids, even tired and hungry kids strapped snugly into car seats for hours and hours, behave impreccably.  Where, when we finally complete the trek from northern Wisconsin to southern Minnesota after five-ish hours in the car, we take the kids into Chipotle (because we miss Chipotle so much we cry about it sometimes) and nobody screams!  Or throws a quesadilla!  Or otherwise forces us to hog-chow the last bits of our beloved burrito bowl and sprint out the door!  It was all 100% better than I was imagining it would be, down to the part where we didn't get home until about 2.5 hours after usual bedtime, 13.25 hours after we'd pulled out of the driveway that morning, and STILL they were good natured.  It was awesomes.  I kept thinking all the way home that the schmidt was going to hit the fan at any moment and the crazy would happen.  We were going to hit a deer.  Or run into a surprise blizzard.  Or lose our xm radio signal (gasp!)  But no!  Nothing happened!  Thank you to the following for your assistance: juice boxes (crack), Elmo DVDs, and Steve Jobs (rip).  ANDPLUSALSO, they have COLDS!  So they're SICK and they still knocked my worried socks off!

I'm guessing that you actually came here to meet Chester.  Right?  I can't even begin to tell you how sweet he is or how much we love him to pieces already.  So, I'll just show you pictures.

super special juice box, just for road trips, freaked his freak.

sleepy mc-sniffleface

puppy time!

princess sparklepants not so much a fan of the licking

yes.  yes, this one will do. 

and then i died of cute overload.

vivi wanted to be very sure we received the pick of the litter.  (we did.)

mr. "black" (he wore the black ribbon)

i want them alllllllllllll!

i think maybe we're insane.

to the park, he said!

heading home
So now, we're home.  And having the most perfect Sunday of all time, I think (except the bye week).  Fire in the fireplace, pumpkins waiting for carving, crispy seeds baking, and a whole lot of love.  And poop.

ps: we need to work on obedience, though.  We sent Sir Chester to throw in a load of laundry just now, and instead found him like this:

slacker.

























pps: don't you love how 3 year olds think a bandaid fixes anything?  Even a stuffy nose?  I do.


ppps: ohmahgawsh.

























pppps: thanks again, HannahO, for your fancypants detective work!  Appreciated!

Friday, October 28, 2011

bad bad bad bad GOOD!

This week went a little something like this: bad day, bad day, bad day, bad day, GOOD DAY!  Or like this: stuffy nose, Nyquil hangovers, exploding sinuses, tired, achy, whiny, drive off to the vet without the cat, break my favorite vase, nobody listens to me EVER, etc.  And also something like this: miss my mom, want my mom, wah wah waaaaaah come back mom (and dad).  But then, today, it was like the figurative storm clouds parted and the heavens sang and it was kind of like this: snuggly kid, other kid who sleeps until 9am, well behaved kids, sucker from the bank drive thru keeps 'em quiet for a good fifteen minutes while I drive and drink my hot chocolate in peace kids.  And also kind of like this: OMG WE GET OUR PUPPY TOMORROW!  And we have a babysitter tonight, so we can go and celebrate Halloween with our friends!  (Wait until you see J's costume.  If he lets me post it.)  And I can breathe out of BOTH sides of my nose!  And MIL sent a Halloween cookie cake!  And my parents sent Halloween cards with Uggs inside (or, Ugg-designated-cashola, because hello, cards aren't all that big)!  And the FedEx guy rolled up with my Christmas cards (early bird, worm) and they're CUTER than I even thought they would be!  I couldn't be more excited about this whole day if it suddenly started raining glitter and glue guns, yall!

It's a good day, is what I'm saying, and a well-earned one.  And tomorrow is Chester day.  I'm so excited.  For the Chester part.  For the part where we spend a total of TEN hours in the car with two toddlers?  I'm so ... I'm so .... SCARED!  The iPad is loaded up with games, and the SUV is loaded up with DVDs and snacks and emergency stashes of more snacks.  We'll be okay.  Probablymaybe.  Whatever.  PUPPY!

Sunday, October 23, 2011

boobankie EMERGENCY

Do you not have a kid yet? Or is your kid still teeny tiny and impressionable? If yes, here's some advice for you, from me for free, because I'm a giver. LISTEN CLOSELY. Do not, do not, do NOT let your child get attached to one very specific blue blankie. Or "boobankie" if you will. Buy ten loveys, or ten blankies, and rotate them out every single day, or just never let them get an attachment to one specific very particular item in the first place. Because you know what happens THEN? On a Sunday night when you think you have a sinus infection and you haven't eaten a meal all day unless Pirates Booty counts as a meal and you decide the kids are going to bed early because there are steaks marinating and NJ Housewives reuniting and your bed calling .... YOU LOSE BOOBANKIE. Nobody knows how it happens, but what everyone does know is that no three year old in this house is going to bed without boobankie. Oh, no no no, couldn't have that. So instead? You're in the kitchen getting your potatoes into the oven and wondering where in Carmen San Diego's name your husband is because SURELY it shouldn't be taking this long to read the kid two stories and peace on out of his room, so you go upstairs to find him all wild-eyed ripping apart the bedding and the closet and your three year old looks up and shrugs and says "Daddy finding boobankie." And then you spend an hour stomping up the stairs and down the stairs and back on up the &^%#%^&* stairs tearing your house apart in search of boobankie. Dumping laundry baskets, opening and slamming every cupboard in the kitchen, peering into the (firey) fireplace when the kid tells you that's maybe where he put boobankie, waking up baby sister not one but TWO freaking times by going into her room and turning the lights on because surely, that's the only other place in this whole God-forsaken house that &^%#@@%^*^# boobankie could've gone to. I even looked in the litter box, like maybe BabyNormy had hauled it off into the deep dark depths of the basement or something, just for kicks. And maybe there was also some spousal sparring through clenched teeth. "No, I DIDN'T let him take it out of his bedroom." "Well it didn't grow two bleeping legs and walk away now DID IT?!" "I DON'T KNOW MARGO!" and such. All the while your kid is up in his room chillin like Dylan, reading a book all nonchalant-like, occasionally shouting out "hey, find boobankie? No? Okay!" And then a couple times you go find some randomass OTHER blankie and offer it up faking excitement like "hey, buddy, look at this cool blankie! You should sleep with it!" Which goes over about as well as you'd expect when the kid hasn't slept a wink in 2 1/2 YEARS without that blasted boobankie, and he doesn't stop screaming until you agree to remove the impostor from his presence immediately and resume the search for the authentic boobankie.

Well, anyway, to put you out of this nail biting suspense .... we found boobankie. In the clothes hamper in the kids' bathroom, a place we'd checked a collective three times, so I'm pretty sure there's some crazy ghost of a dead old maid messing with us like on American Horror Story (are you watching that? OMG you must! Rubber man!)

And now the steaks are on the grill.

And the kid is in his bed.

And the Packers are 7-0.

And tomorrow morning, I'm going to hot glue that %$#@!&$ boobankie to his headboard.

Saturday, October 22, 2011

saturday.

Saturdays tend to bring out the moper in me. Just certain Saturdays. The ones when J is working for the 6th day in a row and my parents have deserted me for the west coast and my sister is out of town and everyone in the whole wide (facebook) world seems to be doing something WAY more fun than me. So, like today. I woke up feeling mopey. I've felt blah all week. Not sick, quite, but not well, either. Scratchy throat, achy, cranky. Like something was coming on. And tired. I've felt tired, not like that should come as a shock to anyone with a toddler or two. They're tiring, even when they're being totally sweet and not flushing undergarments down the toilet. It's just been a long week. I've done the crayons and the wagon pulls and the itsy bitsy spider and I just felt .... done. So this morning, part of me wanted to pull the covers over my head, have a little cry, then call a babysitter and spend the day bonding with my Kindle. And my pillow. And maybe some riesling. After noon, of course.

But then? I was like "self, enough already!" Because for real? Who can sit around moping when you're in the company of these sweet little littles?
Not me. So off we went. Children's Museum, out to lunch, back down the highway and home for a nice long 2 1/2 hour naptime. Saturday's not so bad, after all. And Sunday is shaping up to be even better. Nice weather, football, cookie baking, steaks on the grill. Perhaps a coat or two of paint on that desk that's still sitting in the garage. A family day. Me likey.

iphone photo week in review: twenty two

parka time baby. moto-ty-kell. she's delish. to wausau they say. goodbye day. zumba party. checking out auntie's new palace. fish sandwiches. sleeping kitty. leaping kitty (we die laughing every time). dream on littles. i have no idea. busy bee. girlfriends. yani. i'll give you cheese.



Tuesday, October 18, 2011

liar liar pants on fire

This morning, we went to the pediatrician. I thought we had a 10:00am appointment. But last night, as I stared at my ceiling listening to my husband snore and trying to sleep and instead thinking about how I was going to work the word "slutpig" into at least three conversations a day, I had a weird feeling that maybe I had the appointment time wrong. So this morning, in my pajamas at 8:15am with one child awake but unfed and the other child (who is SO AWESOME) still soundly asleep in her crib, I called the pediatrician's office. And was informed that our appointment was, in fact, at 9:00am. Oh goody! 45 minutes to wake a kid and feed two kids and try to make myself presentable enough to not cause us all any undue embarrassment. And, you know, actually get to the pediatrician's office.

Anyway, we made it. It was flu shot day and Anderson's 3 year 1 month appointment. And by that I mean it was is 3 year appointment which I waited too long to schedule, hence, a 3 year 1 month appointment. You should know, I sort of feel like his doctor is judgey. In that smug "don't have kids but do have medical degree" new pediatrician way that irks me so, because hello, don't you lecture me about how to deal with a tantrum when you're probably still having them YOURSELF (because you appear to be like 12), or at very least, until YOU have successfully tamed a 3 year old beast in the throes of a "but I WANNNNNA new ball/candy bar/life sized stuffed giraffe" in the middle of Wally. I know. I could get an older pedi, but this one can get us in by 10am when a fever strikes at 8am, and does seem smart in the book smart ways I need her to be to keep my kids upright, so anyway.

Where was I? Oh, right, at the 3 year 1 month appointment. So I'm sitting there answering the doctor's questions and feeling a little judged the way it was, because one of my children (who, okay, isn't ALWAYS awesome) had just ripped her flu shot consent form right down the middle, right after she maybe kinda-sorta took a nosedive off the chair while I had my back turned (to calm the other kid, mind you). The topic of A's speech came up, and I proudly informed her that he was doing so, so good (he is!) and that I'm so, so proud (I am!) She wanted to hear his speech for herself, so she's asking him a bunch of random questions, and he's answering her all adorable and polite-like and then she comes to this one: "what did you have for breakfast, Anderson?"

His answer: "a Happy Meal with FRIES!"

Zoh. Mah. Gah.

He did NOT! Not only do they not even SERVE Happy Meals at that hour (not that I'd KNOW), but we wouldn't have had time to get one anyway because we were in a major rush, but ALSO if he does get a Happy Meal (which he does, occasionally, because seriously) he gets apple slices. Not fries. But apparently, the young doc took his word as The Truth, because I got The Look. So I turned to my kid and said "I'm going to sell you on eBay and buy a Louis with the money!" In my head. For real, what I said was "honey, can you please tell the nice doctor what you really had for breakfast?" To his credit, he did then say "yogurt with Cheerios". Which was the God-honest truth. Organic yogurt, even!

And then? When we got home? He flushed his Bert & Ernie underpants down the toilet.

THREE! You guys! It's CUH-RAZY!

Before he threw me under the bus with the fake breakfast, my little budding nudist was a smidge excited about this place where he was TOLD to remove his clothes. (Dreamland!)
Oh, relax, he's not naked. He's wearing those Bert & Ernie underpants. Pre-flush, obvi.

Monday, October 17, 2011

iphone photo week in review: twenty one

There are reasons I'm in no mood to blog today.

1) my parents are in a car heading west. I'm not happy. At all.
2) the forecast for tomorrow includes snow flurries. Again, not happy.

That's basically it. So instead of continuing along on this waaaaahm-bulance, I'll end with the photos.

cat. cat. puddle. fargo zip code gave her away (KIM). cat shirt from fargo. cat. money in a card. feeding fish with uncle robbie who's actually mom's cousin robbie but uncle is easier to say. convinced jackie to let her take the tutu outside. lambeau here we come. still coming. lambeau! lambeau! ugg rainbow. my mama. the girls. my parents are cute. love that guy.

Friday, October 14, 2011

how to get ready

I go out in public a lot (and by "a lot" I do mean 6/7th of the days of the week) looking ... um ... like a mom. You know. Leggings (always with the leggings), a hoodie, my air-dried wavy hair twisted back into one of those halfass ponytail/bun jobbies, concealer under my eyes, and a swipe of mascara. Flip flops in the summer, Uggs in the winter (aka, August 1 through June 1 in the woods). Then DONE. This routine takes 10 minutes, tops. Or an Elmo's World straight through Mister Noodle, if you speak Sesame Street. And that's IF my kids are in the mood to watch Sesame Street without offing each other while I ready myself. Usually? It goes a little something like this.
But I mean, really? What else is a mom to do? I don't have a nanny for each kid and cat like the RHOBHs, my kids wake up too early for me to rise before them to primp, and precious as they may be - I surely don't have those pretend unicorn kind of kids who will sit patiently reading their bibles and penning letters to grandma while I blow dry my hair and pluck my stray brows (but they will tip the Culligan water thing over and/or crawl into the fireplace). So, I shower at night and do the standby 10 minute routine by morn, then I pat myself on the back for even bothering with the mascara and we go. Because even the leggings-hoodie-halfass hair-concealer-mascara-slip on shoes thing? Serious commitment to the anti-total-frump movement. I'll allow some frump in the form of leggings I wear at least twice before washing .... but I'm not giving up my damn mascara, yall.

Monday, October 10, 2011

ahem. i have something to show you.

Did you think I was going to show you a pregnancy test or something? BWAHAHA! One, no. Two, it's even better (for now). Three, I'll show you this thing I want to show you in a second, after I tell you about my weekend even though you didn't ask.

Oh, this weekend. It. Was. Awesome. J and I left the kids in the loving care of the Mommo, and didn't shed a single tear as we cruised out of town. Not that we don't love our kids to PIECES, you know that we do, but sheesh, three year olds are something ELSE. We needed a time out from parenting. And we took one, in the form of a road trip to Minneapolis, where we visited college friends (who are having a baby ANY SECOND, but her water did NOT break during our visit, much to J's relief.) Then we meandered through shops, choosing only those with breakable items and walkways too narrow for double strollers and really expensive/impractical things (that we did not buy, obvi). And Super Targ, because duh. And we also went antiquing, because apparently we're 93 years old now. Then had one of the most scrumptious Italian dinners I've had in years. Then, and this is probably the second best part of all .... we slept in until 8:30am. I KNOW! SO LATE. It was delicious, that uninterrupted Sunday morning sleep. But you want to know the FIRST best part of all? The real reason for this road trip, or at least the other real reason for this road trip (the other real reason being how three year olds are something ELSE)? Okay, then. Here's why we went to Minnesota:
Meet Chester. Or, one of Chester's siblings, as we don't know yet exactly which of the nine pups will our new baby. If you don't think that's about the cutest thing you've seen in forever, I'm concerned for you. Let's try this:
Sleeping puppy! Cutesplosion!

So yes, we're getting a puppy. And yes, I know I'm a smidge crazy to add a puppy to our two toddler/three cats/not enough hours in any day life. But we need a dog. We miss having a dog, and have always hoped there would be a Golden in our future. We didn't anticipate Griffy passing away so soon, and certainly didn't anticipate bringing home another dog so soon after that .... but fate intervened. We found an amazing breeder with this sweet litter, born precisely the same day as our Griff went to doggy heaven. Meant to be. Baby Chester gets a few more weeks to be with his mama and siblings, then we'll trek back to southern Minnesota and bring our new baby home. I. Am. So. EXCITED.

Oh, PS: one of my kids welcomed me back with hugs and kisses and "wuv you mommy"s alllll morning long. The other kid welcomed me back with three temper tantrums before breakfast was even on the table. I'll let you guess who's who. Hint: one of my children is three. And fortunately for him, very very redeemably cute. And he'll be four in 11.5 months, so that's very soon.

Oh, PPS: antiqued cream it is for the desk! Thanks for all the ideas, both here on el bloggo and emailed. You're the best friends (and e-friends) a girl could ask for. Stay tuned for the office reveal. I mean, after I paint the desk and do the other 107 things I'm now planning to do to my office space. So stay tuned until the year 2098. Kthxbye.

iphone photo week in review: nineteen and twenty

And now, a supersized edition of the iPhone photos. Which I am too lazy to caption. I trust that you'll figure it out. Kids, pets, road trip, scenery.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

ayudame! por favor!

Project time! And I need your help. Mama's getting an office. Because working (oh fine and crafting) at the dining room table isn't working for me. Sticky kid fingers on my laptop, J growing increasingly unhappy with my stacks of felt and glue sticks in the dining room, the like. So the loft, formerly known as the collecting place of riffraff furniture, is slowly becoming my office. Very slowly. Meaning, right now, it contains two chairs and a tangle of cords I think is part of something called our modem. Whatever that is.

Anyway. So last month, I scored a great solid wood table/desk off Craigslist for $50 (STEAL!) The paint was in awful condition (three layers of blobbed on awfulness, to be exact), so I've (HAHAHA I mean J has) spent the past few weeks stripping and sanding it down. And now it's sitting all lonesome-like out in our garage on a tarp looking like so:

The top picture is the desk. The other three pictures are what a desk looks like when you've got a three year old. "CHEESE! CHEESE! MAMA LOOK AT ME!"

So. Now what do I DO with this desk of mine? I'm having the wood-finishing equivelent of writer's block (painter's block?) I can't picture the finished desk, and I'm afraid of making the wrong choice and having it end up back out in the garage for sanding/staining/sitting on a tarp round 2. I need to get a move on.

Here's the space it's going into. Obviously, this is a picture the builder took a few years before we moved in, because there are no Goldfish ground into the carpet or errant blocks thrown about like you'd find now. Or riffraff furniture.
It's very .... woody, you see? I'd like to play that down a bit, if such a thing is even possible. So no wood stains. My initial thought was a creamy white color for the desk. The wall (not pictured) is a dark chocolate brown and is NOT getting repainted since it goes all the way on down to the main floor and into the kitchen. So I thought the creamy white might lighten things up a bit, and I could do fun light colored picture frames all over the wall. But then, of course, I went on Pinterest and saw gray desks and blue desks and green desks and got all kinds of confused/overwhelmed. Do I go with color? Do I do some antique finishing treatment? Black? Hot pink with gold sparkles? WHAT?

So here I am. Begging you. Tell me what to do with my desk. And my office as a whole. And my life, if you're so inclined.

Thank you kindly.

Monday, October 3, 2011

a worthy cause

Have yall ever clicked on the 'but now to live the life' link in my blog list? If you have, how inspiring are they? And if you haven't visited, check it. I have no idea how I ever found Sarah's blog, but I'm glad I did. It's the story of a California family with four little kids who put all their faith in God's plan for them and sold nearly everything they owned to move to Peru, where they're working to empower impoverished women through a project called Krochet Kids. Sarah writes honestly about their trials and triumphs there and it really puts things in perspective. I sometimes think I'm having a bad day because my internet went out for ten minutes when I needed to use it (GASP!) or my kid peed right over the toilet and on the bathroom wall instead (true story) ... but then I read her blog and see the day in and day out living conditions of the people they're trying to help, and hello, reality check.

Anywho. I saw today that they're setting up childcare so that the women working for them can bring their children along when they work. They need help getting toys for the kids to play with while their moms work, and she created an Amazon list so you can send something. I made a small purchase - for what I would've paid to grab the kids and I lunch at some drive through window, those sweet kids in Peru will have a fun and brand new toy. And that makes me happy.

If you want to help, click on the blog: but now to live the life. Or go directly to the wish list by clicking on Amazon: here.

Thanks, friends.

Saturday, October 1, 2011

iphone photo week in review: eighteen

October? Already? How? September blew by, didn't it? Literally in our case, since the last two days of the month brought gagillion miles per hour winds that ripped half of our gorgeous autumn leaves off the trees. I suppose that flying time thing will happen when you start a job, relearn the wahm routine, get a pet, lose a pet, plan a party, host a party, catch up with relatives, spend Sundays watching football as long as your kids will let you, and craft 7,649 things. October doesn't look to be much calmer. Road trips planned for 3 of the 5 weekends (including one to Lambeau! YESYESYES!), parties and a baby brunch on the calendar, Halloween costumes to plan (and maybe craft, since PBK is INSANE if they think I'm paying them $70 for a costume and shipping of such costume, asIF), and another fun thing that I'll tell you all about later (no I'm not pregnant, thankyouverymuch). October's looking good despite the busyness, is what I'm saying. Even if it's not actually calmer, it feels calmer as the temps go lower and lower and any excuse is a good excuse to cozy up in sweatpants, light a few candles, and snuggle with the littles. Happy October, yall!

And now, the iPhone snaps.

rainy campfire. same. tasteless crock pot breakfast casserole/pinterest flop. hiking. leaves. hiker. how champs eat breakfast. looked a lot like a dead mole on my carpet might have freaked my freak. normynormy.