Tuesday, October 30, 2012

creepy crawler crispies

If you're scrambling for a last minute Halloween treat for your kid's school treat, and you're not on Pinterest and don't know how to use the magical Google, let me help you.  Creepy Crawler Krispies.  Make up some Rice Krispie treats using Cocoa Pebbles instead of the Rice Krispies, stick some pretzel sticks in the sides for legs, smush some little marshmallows and add a dot of something black or brown for eyes ..... voila.  You've got a kid who grins all the way to preschool and marches proudly into the room with his tray of spider treats and doesn't scream his face off when you leave him in his classroom.

Click HERE to see the original source of this super cute idea.  That I copied.  And took FULL credit for this morning at preschool drop off when Miss T. praised my creativity.  Thank you, thank you very much, you're making me blush, DO GO ON.  (I did give them a cool name all on my own.  That counts for something, right?)

I'd also like to share an obligatory super cute picture of my kids in their costumes with you on this Halloween Eve, but I can't because my iPhoto died on Saturday and I'm taking that really well.  Not up at 4am stressing about my 10,000+ inaccessible photos or anything, nope, not me.  I have a call into the Mac Ranch, which is the mountain town equivalent of the Apple store, I guess .... let's hope they pull through.  Or better yet, if your iPhoto has died and you've brought it back to life without having to pay some Mac guy $9270 per hour to do it for you, please tell me how.  PLEASE DO THAT RIGHT NOW PANICPANICPANIC!!!!!!!!!!

With the boy child off at school, my girls and I are setting up for round 2 of Halloween treat making - frosted pretzel sticks for the dealership people.  I'll probably post about those, too.  It's my blog and I'll be a showoff it I want to, yo!  Happy Halloween Eve, everyone!

Saturday, October 27, 2012

two months

The big one's screaming less and less at every preschool drop off, the middle one's a sassypants with more spunk by the minute, and this one is two months old today.

I KNOW, WHAT?  Two months.  Smiling, finding her voice, finally gaining weight after a few concerning weeks, sleeping all night more often than not, and generally being the all around best little ten pound, three ounce peanut this side of the globe.  For real.

Happy two months, Mabel Gray!

Friday, October 19, 2012

a day

It's one of those days.  Not a bad, mama left the house with no mascara on and had to pull the car over on the side of the road to give everyone a talkin' to kind of day.  Not a great, mama got a free coffee and nobody whined until after 9am kind of day.  Just .... a day.  A day where we had a play date with a friend I met at the neighborhood park whose two kids are Vivi and Mabel's age, almost exactly.  Anderson asked to see her toys, looked them over, and scoffed "those are GIRL toys.  I want to go home.  Let's get in the car."  Then Vivian found a watering can on the deck and soaked herself AND her new little friend, then refused to wear her wet shirt one second longer, then her brother found the water and soaked his pants, so I ended up calling the playdate 45 minutes in and dragging my shirtless daughter and my pantless son (both barefoot, natch) to the car while my baby screamed inside the house and my new friend deleted my contact info off her iPhone probably.  But, you know, I got five quiet, lovely minutes to drink my coffee and chat with a nice lady about baby having and bears, so there's that.

And then, at nap time, I heard suspicious noises coming from the direction of Miss V's room, and found this:

"I bein' fancy!"  Umyeah, Vivi.  You're quite fancy with your tights on your head, a Christmas legging on one leg, a pink legging on the other, and a magic wand.  And the tutu and sunhat, which I assume you were about to put on before I broke up the party.  I especially appreciated how she emptied her closet in search of this perfect napping ensemble, so her room looks all hoarder-ish.

And then, I returned to my room, picked up my sweet, perfectly behaved MG and snuggled her close ..... just as she threw up the bottle she'd just chowed down.  All over her face, all over my chest and hair, and down onto the bed.  And then acted all screamy and indignant like I'D just thrown up all over HER or something.

But hey however, it's Friday!  And J has a two day weekend (rarity)!  And my baby brother is coming down from Denver with his new girlfriend and we've got a dinner reservation tomorrow night!  And Vivi's getting her first hair trim this afternoon (yeah, at 2 1/2), so mullet-be-gone!  And I've Shredded  three times this week and can still move my arms!  And (KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK ON WOOD) all three of my children are napping right this minute and I'm not even holding the teeny tiny one!

Friday, October 12, 2012

the bear

Um, you guys?  Living in Colorado is NO JOKE.  Obviously, living right in the mountains and all, I'd heard there were bears, and I'd seen the tipped over, scrummaged-through garbage cans to prove it.  And I'd also heard there are face eating mountain lions, but OMGDENIAL on that one.  So let's just say I was enjoying being a Coloradan and fancied myself a tough mountain woman.  HAHAHA, not, but I was kind of liking the new version of me that wears legit Durango cowboy boots and goes on hikes for fun and wouldn't pee her pants and run screaming like a little girl if she saw a bear.  How wrong I was friends, how wrong I was.

Yesterday.  The kids and I were playing at our back door neighbors' house.  Well, the kids were playing with their new little friend, and my new (seriously awesome, Texan, wine loving) friend Emily and I were enjoying a glass of wine and chatting.  Dinnertime came, it was time to go home.  It was still broad daylight, we're just walking across their yard and into ours, no biggie.  You'd think. I'm wearing MG, Cowboy Anderson's leading the way, and Vivi's just behind me (holding a box of crackers like she's bear bait) (because her mom is like, real dumb).  And then, all of the sudden, I see something standing in our path.  Something big, and brown, and fuzzy. I'm all "damn, I didn't have much wine at all, WHY am I hallucinating that there's a furry brown bear standing twentyish feet from us?"  And then I'm all "OH EFF BOMB!!!!!!!  OMG BEAR!!!!!!!!!! RUN!!!!!!!!!!!!  TWENTY MORE EFF BOMBS!!!!!!!!"  I'm pretty sure all of southwestern Colorado, and maybe some parts of northern New Mexico, heard the commotion.  I'm screaming, Vivi's screaming, Mabel's screaming because her pacifier got knocked out of her mouth when I jumped eighty-two feet into the air.  (And Anderson's all cool and collected just fast-sauntering across the yard.  Manly Colorado man.)  The bear takes off running a little ways, then stops in our other neighbor's yard and just stares at us like we're DINNER.  Or like we're crazy humans all up in his habitat carrying crackers and smelling like babymilk or something.  So at this point we've neared our deck stairs, and I grabbed each of my kids by one arm, I dropped my beloved bag (priorities, y'all), and just seriously sprinted up those stairs carrying three kids, slammed the gate at the top, and stood there.  Still screaming, I do believe.  Vivi ran into the house bawling, and Anderson (MANLY MAN) stood on the deck going "mom!  That bear is looking at me!  He's brown!"

Proof.  And no, before you even ask, I did NOT take this picture, are you crazy?  I called Emily from the deck, her husband came to retrieve their dog, who sweetly accompanies us home from our play dates on the regular.  Her husband also brought his camera, and caught a few shots of the bear as it retreated from our neighbor's yard and hid out in our front yard.

So, you know, it was really fun going outside, but never again.  Like ever.  (I said that in my Taylor Swift voice, fyi.)

PS: Cowboy Anderson.  Named as such because yesterday was Cowboy Day at preschool, and for the first time ever, my boy didn't cling to me sobbing at drop off time.  "Because cowboys don't cry, mama."  Yee haw, little pardner.

Thursday, October 4, 2012


I have two pieces of very important advice for you.  Listen close, I'm only going to say this once.  (Because then Dora will be over and my break, as well.)

1) If you're going to play that whole "fine, if you won't leave the park, I'm going to leave you here and bears are going to eat you, BYE BYE" game, and actually take it as far as getting into your car, starting it up, and putting it in reverse while your four year old stands stunned in the middle of the playground, then runs screaming at your vehicle .... make sure there's not a cop standing ten feet from your car.  Paused mid-ticket writing, staring at you.  If that maybe ever happens to you (HYPOTHETICALLY) get your kid in the car real fast and flee the scene.

2) If you're going to take your coffee home to savor (as opposed to slamming it in the car, as previously discussed), don't get home and try to balance a grocery bag, a diaper bag, and your coffee in the driveway.  Because you'll drop your *&^%$#@ coffee, it will explode down the inside of the car door and all over the driveway, and your screams will be heard in four states.  Going back was not an option, my allotted car time was up (said MG) so here I am, drinking a Diet Coke that's burning my irritated throat with every swallow.  BUT CAFFEINE!  I was thisclose to grabbing a straw and drinking it off the pavement, yall.  Desperate times.

Wednesday, October 3, 2012


One of my kids woke up this morning, crawled into my bed and under the covers beside me, and said "mama, you my beeeeest friend.  And your hair is sooooo pwetty."  The other woke up, had a fit because I insisted he wear underpants, and said "I'm gonna throw you in the garbage."  Who wants to play a little game of "Guess Who's My Favorite Today?"  It's not a very hard game.

So, we're moving right along here.  A's on week 3 of preschool.  Drop offs, unfortunately, are not improving.  Let's take yesterday morning.  He's screaming for me not to leave him as his teacher holds him in the classroom, Vivi's screaming because she doesn't want to leave the classroom, and Mabel's screaming because she's in her car seat and OMG THAT EFFING CAR SEAT.  Finally we make it to the car, and at that point, I scream.  Well, I don't scream, but I start crying and drive us to the store sniffling and feeling like the worst mom in all of the world.  That is, until my friend Anne called and talked some damn sense into me and made me stop crying.  And of course, by pick up time, he was smiley and happy and all like "mama who?"  He's brought us home the gift of our very first preschool germs, something I knew was coming sooner than later, so 4/5 of us have stuffy noses and my throat hurts so bad that solid foods are pretty much out of the question, which is kind of yay for the diet thing, you know?

MG made her first unwell child visit to the pediatrician, and stop reading now if you aren't a mom/don't even want to know, because it's gross, but she had blood in her poos.  I know.  If that had been Anderson when he was a baby and I was on super high alert at all times?  You guys, I would've called 911 SO FAST.  But being baby #3 and all, I was like "huh, suppose I should call the pedi Monday."  AKA, the pedi we didn't even have yet because who has time for finding a pedi when you need to find a hair person and a place to buy organic cat food?!  Not me.  Anyway, it wasn't any big thing, likely a slight milk allergy that will clear up by the time we start solid foods.  But the bad news is, we had to switch her to formula made of golden unicorn hooves, or I assume it's made of something magical like that, because it costs $35 a can.  THIRTY FIVE DOLLARS A CAN.  I almost pooped blood right there in the Walmart aisle when I saw that.  (Too much?  Probably.  Don't care.)  Oh, MG.  You've got expensive tastes, my dear, and NO IDEA where you'd get that from.

Torturous car rides and bankrupting formula aside, MG's continuing her awesomeness.  Most of the day, you don't even know she's here.  Likesuchas the other day, when I set her down on the rug in the laundry room to change her diaper, got distracted by a loud crash in the other room (it was an ugly vase, anyway), then had to change V's diaper, then let the cats in, then got a glass of water and checked my phone and before I knew it it was like seven minutes later and I was kind of like "hold up, I have a baby, I think, but where the hell........?"  

The house, it's coming along.  There are still gold doorknobs and gold towel bars and gold bathroom faucet handles and they're most certainly not growing on me, but in other ways, the house is looking more "us" every day.  New bedding for our room, new paint throughout most of the main level, little decor touches I'm finding around town in adorable locally owned boutiques that I looooooove .... it's coming along.  I'll do a house post one of these days, I swear I will.

And I just got an email that the fire danger level is super duper high (because it's 80 in October?) and am now afraid to even walk across the carpet, lest I create a spark and burn down this whole drop dead gorgeous state.  Fires, bears that hang out on back porches and rip off screen doors and trash the mail shelter when some idiot leaves a carry out container in there .... being a Coloradan isn't for sissies, yall.

End of the randomness.  It's better than nothing, right?  Maybe?  I'll blog more coherently soon, promise.  In the meantime, I leave you with some Instagrams.  I love Instagram!  Are you Instagramming?  If so, leave me your name so I can stalk you.  I mean admire your Instagrams.  I'm mandie716 if you want to follow my feed, as well.

i lied, this is not an instagram.
family date night downtown.
preschool open house.
every class has a weirdo.
george, back home.
spent two days in the wild.
aka at the neighbor's house being fed.
ooh la la!
west elm.
pedicure date with my mg girl.
best. dinner. ever.
willing her not to grow so fast.
typical morning.
dressing, feeding, folding.