Memorial Day Eh PANE ride

Tomorrow we are going on an eh PANE. UP UP UP. And as you can guess we are taking the Notorious MRA with us. We are headed back to Virginia for the long weekend and to celebrate my Dad's 70th birthday.

It also happens to be Jonathan's birthday - so we are hoping to utilize the availability of family babysitters to go out for dinner, but I digress.

Traveling solo and as a couple, we have down pat. Traveling with a toddler... not so much. There is a lot more of the packing and a lot more things to forget and a lot less time to get it done. There are also SERIOUS consequences to forgetting something.

You, without kids, may be doubters. you may think I am making a bigger deal of this than necessary but let me assure you, you do not want to be in any row near us on the plane, when MRA's ears start popping and we don't have Poopy Puppy or juice, or the right blanket or whatever else he might need to soothe him.

Trust me when I say you will be thinking, "What the hell? Can't you get the kid some damn juice. Please for the love of God give him something because I cannot take the screaming for 2 hours." (I know because I have been the one thinking this before.)

And trust me, when I tell you we we will be thinking the same thing on this flight.

To complicate things a bit, I tend to get motion sick on flights when I am pregnant so I won't be able to help quite as much as normal. I will be concentrating on not vomiting.

Too bad boats with building blocks are too cumbersome to bring on a plane. We could learn all about some transportation and which kinds Mamma doesn't need a sick bag on.

Wish us luck!

Wordless Wednesday

Let the chores begin.

I am fairly certain this is one of the (unexpected) perks to having children.

I wonder at what age, this will stop being fun?

The World of Denial

My World of Denial used to be pretty solid but 2011 has really changed all that.

First we started off the year, pregnant. PREGNANT! How did that happen (I know the biology but can't figure out when my body decided to play by the biological rules). It was several months before I really accepted it. Even through the first few rounds of ultrasounds, I still could not quite believe it. Hell, there are days I still don't  - but the with the growing belly and increased trips to the bathroom, its getting harder to deny that there is another guest in the Hotel Womb. And the somersaults whilst kicking thing. This little Wackadoodle definitely squirms, that's hard to deny.

Then there is Napa, sorta - I used to think Jonathan and I were merely wine enthusiasts, but after this trip I think that we are really cork dorks. Here is the case:

In December, we purchased a new wine cellar.

When we found out we were pregnant, we redesigned our closet around the wine.

In just a mere 5 months, we have outgrown said cellar.

We have had serious conversations about having to insure the wine and also about putting future inventory into outside wine storage.

We understand the brix level of grapes.

Last night I found Jonathan in the closet, in front of the cellar on the floor. When I asked him what he was doing, he replied that, "He was just checking on the wine." Now I am not saying there is not value in checking on the wine/cellar to insure that it is working properly but it wasn't a whole lot different than the way we check in on the Notorious MRA in the middle of the night. I'm just sayin' - cork dorks.

It sounds better than Wine Snob, don't you think?

Oh, and the world is supposed to end tomorrow, which makes me wonder why I went to work today. And now I have Blondie's song "Rapture" stuck in my head - nevermind the song talks about eating cars and not necessarily going to hell.

Shouldn't I be at home or better yet, the beach, spending these last few hours snuggling with one Notorious little boy???? Humph, maybe there is still a little solidity in the World of Denial.

See ya'll next week!

Wordless Wednesday

The Elmo Invasion

I walked into my office this week to the following:

Now 4 or 5 years ago, heck - a year ago, I would have had no idea that this was Elmo, the infamous Elmo. In fact , I probably would have been a little freaked out by the sight of this red fluffy thing sitting in my chair.

 I was so EhMO ignorant that I did not even know he was on Sesame Street. In my time Sesame Street had Big Bird and Grover, Bert and Ernie, the elusive Snufflufagis (is that even close to the right spelling?), Oscar the Grouch. there was no Elmo or Flying Fairy School.

But, today, I am well acquainted with Elmo or EhMO as he is known in our house. I don't know what it is about this red creature with the nasal-y voice that is SO AMAZINGLY ATTRACTIVE but the kiddos seem to love him and the Notorious MRA is no exception.

My co-worker, Derek and his wife Sarah, have graciously passed down the EhMO chair to our house. Thus far its quite a hit.

MRA sits in, tries to lay in it, and drags it around to where ever he wants to be. This means he is not in my lap nearly as much which, with the growing belly, is a nice break but also a little sad.

But, then again, EhMO is a lot softer than my belly and to be honest, when I rounded the corner and saw the chair in my office, I kinda wanted to sit in it too. But it would not have been my most professional look.

The Notorious MRA's Breakfast Menagerie

Pretty much as soon as MRA is officially awake, he gathers up his precious collection of animals and his blanket and begins calling out for some one to GET HIM OUT OF HIS STINKING CRIB!

His next demand is usually for milk.

Once we have successfully relocated his menagerie to the kitchen and given him a sippy cup of milk (and don't even think about forgetting to put the Ovaltine in it. Yes, you must count the scoops with him and then let him lick the spoon and then let him replace the lid) we can sometimes relocate to his little table for breakfast.

Lately though, the eating part of things has been changed. We must also, apparently, feed the menagerie.

MRA will let you know who gets the first bite. With that stabby little finger, he will point at each one and tell you who exactly gets some waffle  (pupPee, BAybee) before he will take a bite. This is a great source of entertainment for him.

Here is the line up: BayBEE, Duck (until he flew the coop), Clover, PupPEE, BubBEE. That creepy blue baby in the front used to be mine. Its hard to believe that any child liked this thing. Its hard plastic, does not move, and kinda has an evil Chucky sort of expression, but.... apparently I loved my Blue Baby and now MRA does too.

Just wondering how long before MRA will feed his own menagerie all by himself? Then again, he is eating and for that I am thankful!



The Easter Duck

I meant to post this after Easter but , we got busy, I couldn't remember where I stored the video, then I had to re-remember how to upload from imovie to youtube. Better late than never.

Oh, and the duck, let's just say after finding myself walking around quacking, well... he has found a new home

Happy Mother's Day!

I came across the following. I wish I could have found a simpler way to repost it. It is from a blog called "Rants From Mommyland". http://www.rantsfrommommyland.com/


I have to admit, I not only cried a little as I was reading it but I may have also peed a little! I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.


And for those of you who have not read Good Night Moon, 84,000 times, the last page reads, Good Night Noises Everywhere. Hopefully you will make the mental leap.






My Top 10 "Oh, Now I Get It" Moments


Here's the sitch', before people have kids there are many occasions where they'll observe people who have children and think "When I have kids I will never ______" Then you go and get yourself some of those cherubic, little angels and if you're like me, you have about 8 million "Oohhh, Now I Get It Moments" – they're like Oprah's "Aha" moments but without the free car. 

Here are just a few of the little judgement gems that I passed with Gweneth Paltrow smugness until I had children. I was an idiot but clearly the Gods were listening.

"My kids will never sleep with me." 
I love my sleep and therefore, any child of mine would be kissed on the head at 7:00 pm, would be put in their crib and would stay there until the morning. Except what I didn't realize is that it's really hard for me to sleep through bloodcurdling screaming and that I'd have a kid who thinks Dr. Ferber can go suck it. In a desperate measure, I tossed him into bed with us one night and we've all had a good night's sleep even since. I don't tell many people about it because it's the grand daddy of all my "I'll Nevers" unless, of course, you bring it up then I'm all over it like the hypocritical hippy I am.

"My kids will eat what they are fed." 
Don't like dinner? Well, I guess you're not eating. Then I walk away and think about how I'm already worried about his calcium intake and if he's eating enough protien. If he goes to bed hungry then he'll no doubt perish in his sleep all because I wouldn't let him have cereal at dinner. Joan Crawford, Dina Lohan, me. Here's your cereal.

"I'll never ignore my kids like that." 

Why do you even have children if you don't want to be around them?! How hard is it to accommodate your child if the sweet little petal is asking you to read Goodnight Moon? Pretty hard if it's the 4,753rd time you've read it that day and if you ever have a stroke it will, no doubt, be the only information you'll retain. Sometimes I just want half-a-stinking-second to think. I love my children but for the love of God, let me pee alone – I can't remember where I've heard that brilliance before.

"Why don't you just take your kids to the park, it's so easy?" 
You know, you just sit there while they have fun. Oh, wait you want to go on the swing? No more swing now? Now the slide? Mommy can't fit up there but hold on tight....whoa...no, come down now!! That's too high!! Okay, yes, let's play in the sand. No, that's not your truck that's the little boy's truck. Give it back, please. No hitting!! Hey, do you want a cookie? The cookies are at home. Okay, let's go home and get a cookie. Bye park!  Kiss my ass until I've had another Goodnight Moon stroke and forgotten how horrible you are. 

"Why would you take your kids swimming, it's so hard?" 
I mean, it takes about 3 hours to get ready for 10 minutes of fun. Except I didn't think of what else I would do to occupy a small child for 3 hours if I wasn't getting ready for swimming. Plus, no doubt some mom somewhere, sometime probably told me that children that don't learn how to swim by 6 months have an 80% chance of drowning in an inch of water and grow up to be illiterate serial killers – she must have read it in an article somewhere.

"Kids shouldn't eat crap." 
How hard is it to prepare wholesome, organic, homemade meals and snacks all the time? I once threw an open bag of cheesies down the basement stairs to stop my kids from fighting like drunk white girls while I was on a really important phone call. They swarmed it like racoons and ate all the trans fat goodness silently off the floor. I stand by my actions and I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

"Kids shouldn't watch too much tv." 
Oh, but what's that? Children stand behind you like a 20lb footstool when you're carrying pots of boiling water, try to throw things down the toilet while you're cleaning it or take their diaper off and pee down the air vents while you're taking a shower?! Oh, too bad there isn't a magical box that played friendly pictures and sounds to distract them for a few mintues while you went poo. Wait. What?

"How hard is it to look half decent after you've had a kid?"

If I have pants on when I leave the house I consider my appearance to be completely appropriate and should therefore, not be judged. I wore glasses with one arm missing for a year-and-a-half because it broke off and I couldn't find time to fix it. I haven't been to the dentist since my second son was born and he just turned two. I finally made an appointment because I'm scared I'm going to have teeth like a 14-year old beagle if I don't smarten up.

"How hard is it to keep your cool?" 
Pretty hard sometimes. I find that small children have given me a snapping threshold that would make Gordon Ramsay say "Whoa, cool it lady." Inanimate objects seem to be the main focus of my wrath because they won't be taken away from me if I really start spitting cherries (best. phrase. ever.) Instead, I find myself hulking the tabs off the effing diaper because they won't peel up, drop kicking a basket of mittens across the room because I can't find a pair that matches or swearing that if I ever find the murther furking jackhole that put 14 previews on every kid DVD, I will chant "Kali Ma" as I plunge my bare fist into their chest and pull out their still-beating heart. Breeeeeeeathe.

"I would never let my kids become my whole life." 
I used to go over to my "previously cool" friend's place and think how sad it was that her house was overrun with sippy cups, Polly Pocket shoes and Dora the Explorer crap. Now I lay in my hippy bed reading Goodnight Moon until my right eye twitches and they fall asleep.  Then I look at their perfect, little faces and wonder how I ever lived without them.

If I could go back in time, I'd tell that childless woman that it's easy for her to make all these grand proclimations and impose rules on an imaginary child where she hasn't factored in love, fear or sleep depravation. Then I'd tell her stop worrying about what she will and won't do when she becomes a mother and to go take a long look at her fantastic bum in the mirror because it will soon disappear along with the all misconceptions she has about motherhood. 

"Goodnight nice ass everywhere."

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What A Little Napa Can Do For A Soul

Or a marriage or just peace of mind.

In our case, a little Napa was all we needed. Nevermind the getting up at 4:30 in the morning to get there (and back), nevermind the the jet lag. For once we were tired because we did something just for us instead for MRA.

And, less than 24 hours in to the trip, after a little sleep and a little wine tasting, a nice meal out at a restaurant that did not even have a children's menu let alone offer a hot dog, we were both a little like, "Oh yeah, I remember you, the person that I married, who makes me laugh. Your pretty funny. Oh yeah, I remember why we did all this. Oh yeah, I remember why we fell in love and all the reasons I knew you were the perfect person for me."


Not to say that we don't love each other every day but with jobs, and a Notorious MRA for a kiddo, preparing for another baby, the dog, and the dog hair, its easy to get caught up in the business of living (as my Dad calls it.)

And, every once in a while its nice to get away from it all. In our case, we just needed a little NAPA.

Now that we are back, we need a larger wine cellar.

Wordless Wednesday