Can't Sleep

I'm having trouble sleeping yet again (damn ambien restrictions) and am scrolling thru the pictures on my phone from the past year. 

A lot of playing, a lot of fighting, a lot of messes, a few injuries (and several near misses) an absurd amount of nudity and a whole lot of cuteness. So here is what our life looked like in 2014:

So I guess that is what you call beautiful chaos. 

Kindergarten Time

I just tucked Connor into bed for the last time as a non-school aged child. Ever. It is crazy to think about. Most of my friends are weepy and sad that their little one is all grown up but I am not. No. I am happy and excited and relieved. Despite our biggest fears, Chris and I have managed to raise a child to school age without permanently damaging him...with the exception of a few scars and a slightly irrational fear of watching Sponge Bob. We didn't suffocate him by letting him sleep on his stomach at six months old. We didn't drown him by looking away for three seconds while giving him a bath. We didn't lose him at the mall. We didn't even break his neck by letting him jump on a trampoline!! It is amazing! Not only is he in one piece, but he is sweet, smart, funny and loving. He tells people tidbits that he finds interesting. He comforts friends when they are sad. He crack jokes that are way too mature for him to understand. He has never met a stranger. He is awesome.

So I am not sad that he is starting Kindergarten in the morning. I am happy and so proud of my little man and I can't wait to see what he has up his sleeve next.

Our Recent Happenings

Charlie showing me that his teeth are already clean so he therefore does not need to brush them. 

Tell me how you REALLY feel about it Charlie. 

The stains that haunt my nightmares. How do you clean this?!?!

Charlie's new favorite trick is locking Connor and me out of the house and then taunting us. 

They take dinner time water safety very seriously. 

The potty training dance. 

Connor back from his first weekend camping trip with Dad. Bruised, battered and dirty. 

Charlie loved his new under roos

But first, let Connor take a selfie

Long Time No Post

At one point I was writing several blog posts each week. Then I went down to one. Now I am having trouble coming up with just that. I have always used this blog to turn my frustrations into humor. It helps me not take everything so seriously. The problem right now is that I am struggling to find the humor. No matter how hard I try, I cannot turn difficult days into laughs. 

I know that I have a great life. I am privileged and spoiled. I honestly believe that no matter how fortunate your situation, everyone falls into what I call "the funk." For me, my life's emotions are somewhat of a cycle. There is contentment with occasional bursts of extreme happiness. Then the irritations become a little harder to deal with and the sublime moments are fewer. Then comes the just make it thru the day period and then...the funk.  I have always been able to slap myself out of the funk after a period of time, sometimes with the help of others and sometimes by my own realization that life is not always champagne and roses and that I need to make the best out of things. 

I have been trying to dig my way out of this funk for longer than usual. The thing that keeps pulling me down is...well...my children. My fuse is getting shorter and shorter with them and I feel like their behavior continues to get worse. And since I am in the funk I don't have the determination to straighten them out. Instead I want them to just leave me alone and figure out how to be civilized humans on their own. 

I know this is ridiculous and unrealistic. But it is how I feel. My prayers right now are almost always "God, please show me how to be the mother that these boys need. Give me patience, kindness, steadfastness. Help me control my temper and help me find an outlet for my frustration. Help me get out of the funk."

I don't expect to be happy all the time. I don't think anyone's life is like that. I want for my contenent phases to be longer and to have more bursts of bliss. I want the rest of my emotional cycle to be shorter and I want to deal with it in a more constructive way. 

I hope I start finding the humor again soon. 

Toddler Village Inc.

About three months into motherhood I began planning and designing my genius business idea,  Toddler Village Inc. I have added thoughts and features as the years have passed by and this weekend I think I may have perfected it. You see, this weekend I decided to start potty training Charlie. This means having a naked tazmanian devil peeing on things.

Toddler Village Inc. is housing communities scattered throughout the country designed specifically for families with small children. The homes can be rented long term. The idea is that you live in these homes while your children are in their grossest, messiest, most cleaning intensive years.

Each house is child proof. I don't mean outlet covers child proof, I mean indestructible child proof. The house is fully furnished and stocked and nothing can be moved no matter how hard you Hulk Smash into it. Every room is soundproof (but you can turn the soundproofing off with the flip of a switch in case you are one of those crazy people who likes to hear what your children are doing.) This is a home where Connor and Charles Bass could live for three years and not break anything expensive, not drive me bonkers with noise and not stain anything. I'm telling you it is genius.

Most rooms are completely stainless steel with a slightly inclined floor with a large (but not large enough to fit a child) drain in the middle. Optional water tight wall padding is available for those with more “spirited” children aka me. There is no porous surface on the entire property. Anything electronic is bolted down and enclosed in bullet proof glass. The ceiling of each room is equipped with two sprinkler systems. One sprays straight bleach and the other pure water. At night, you shut the door to each room, flip a switch and the magic house goes to work. First bleach is sprayed on everything including the furniture because remember, even the cushioned surfaces are not porous. They are covered in vinyl...think high school wrestling mat. After everything is sufficiently disinfected the water sprinklers wash everything off. All the nastiness of the day is washed down the floor drain and gone from your life forever.

The yards have sprayers that dispense bug spray and sunscreen onto your children automatically. There are no trees to climb on (or fall off of), no flowerbeds to be destroyed and the grass is a natural looking but completely artificial turf.

Doesn't it sound like absolute bliss?

For an additional cost you can purchase the “Parent Getaway” package. This includes a secret entrance into the master bedroom with a fingerprint lock. There is a long passage from the door to the actual room so even if a child is banging on the door you cannot hear it. Since no children will be allowed to enter this room it has real linens, a plush mattress, a television that can be tilted and adjusted and comfy bath mats on the floor...since no one will pee on them.

I am ready for investors!

The Smile

Warning, this one is going to be a mushy one.  Believe it or not, I'm not a complete cynic all the time.

A great friend of mine is on a ski trip with her family in Utah right now.  She has a three-year-old daughter and a one-year-old daughter.  They are sweet and precious and wonderful but they are three years old and one year old.  And they are inquisitive, talkative, messy...you get the picture.  Their dad works odd hours and their momma is FRIED. She is a wonderful mother.  She loves her children.  But lately, there may have possibly been a couple of times where she felt a bit like her head was going to explode.

And packing and preparing two little girls for a ski trip and flying on a three hour plane ride with them does not help with the whole head exploding thing.  They made it to Utah in one piece and yesterday took their 3-year-old daughter to ride inner tubes down a hill.  My friends husband was filming their daughter as she was tubing for the first time.  She looked so happy.  She was smiling wide and giggling and at one point spread her arms out, leaned her head back and closed her eyes.  Her hair was flapping in the wind and there is no doubt that child was having a wonderful time.

But the piece of the video that really got to my heart was the two seconds when dad panned and caught a glimpse of my friends face watching her daughter.  My friend was having a wonderful time, just like her daughter but hers was different.  I froze the video on the frame of a loving mother smiling adoringly as her daughter experiences pure bliss.  I stared at that frozen frame for a long time.  I imagined that she was thinking how amazing her daughter is and how the time is flying by.  I imagined she was thinking about how happy it made her to see her daughter so happy.  I imagined she was thinking about what a miracle it is that she and her husband created this amazing child and how she could never imagine her life without that sweet girl. 

As mothers, there are ten million things a day that make us grumpy, tired, frustrated and worn out.  Many times these sweet moments fly right past us without our even noticing.  It is nice to catch one and see the beauty of a mothers face showing pure love.

Or...maybe she wasn't thinking any of that. Maybe she was just a little drunk and smirking. I mean, she is on "vacation" with a one year old and a three year old after all!!!!;)

The Inner Workings of The Sinuses/Thank You Shelley

Spring break should be renamed spring extra work. I always forget how much I rely on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. Having those hours without the boys is essential to my sanity. I take it for granted and then spring "break" rolls around again and I am reminded just how much I love T/Th 9-2. 

And this year is no exception. It is only Wednesday and our week has been filled with yelling, crying, screaming and frustration...and that is just from me. 

These two maniacs will not stop fighting. Fighting over a toy, food, a piece of lint off the floor. It doesn't matter. If one of them has it, the other one wants it. I cannot leave them alone in a room without them physically attacking each other. It is halfway through the day and already we have had a nude wrestling match, a clogged toilet, unauthorized yogurt painting on the legs of my brand new barstools a disturbing neon green poop and ANOTHER object lodged in Charlies nose. 

About six weeks ago we had a fun little visit to the emergency room to have the pediatric ENT remove the Lego stud (little round one) from Charlie's nostril. Not fun. Not cheap. We have had numerous discussions about why it is not all right to put things in your nose. It has apparently not sunk in. Little man started screaming while eating his morning snack. "Ahhhhhhh my nose!!!!!"  I looked up his left nostril and sure enough there is a broken off piece of pretzel up there. "Sniff."  And it goes higher. 

Craaaaaaaaaap!  I picked him up and started to yell for Connor to put his shoes on. Dr. White here we come. Wait!!!  I suddenly remembered a tip my neighborhood friend Shelley had given me when I had told her about the Lego incident. Shelley has five children, four of them boys, and was a practicing surgeon before she decided to stay home with her litter. She MIGHT have some good advice. She told me to plug the other nostril and blow a CPR breath into his mouth. Sure enough that pretzel nugget came flying right out...onto my face. I wiped it off and put in onto the table. "Thank you momma," said Charlie as he promptly picked up the nose pretzel and ate it. 

Connor, who had been oblivious to the whole incident came casually strolling into the kitchen. "Hey mom, I just discovered I can lick my armpit!"

And this is my life. 

Laundry Woes

Our first night in Napa I was feeling nice and wine happy and decided that I wanted to ask Chris a million questions. About our marriage, his opinion of me, our family, my cooking...you know, really minor things that in NO way could cause any problems. He is a smart man and knows how to work his way around my traps most of the time.

What is your favorite thing about me? Your smile.

What is one thing you would change about me if you could? That you would be happier more often.

What is your favorite meal I cook? Everything, honey.

What housekeeping task do you think I am worst at? …...............Well. I wish you were not such a worthless piece of crap around the house and that you were not so sucky at laundry.

WHAT?!?!?! Ok, maybe he just said the single word “laundry” but I heard that sentence.

How DARE he complain about my laundry doing abilities! I mean, I had no problem keeping up with my own laundry before we were married. It is his and his messy little children's fault that I stink at it now. Maybe if he didn't change clothes all the time and his peanut butter eating, booger wiping, paint smearing little tazmanian devil sons didn't make such a mess I would still be on top of the laundry situation.

Does he REALIZE how much of a pain doing laundry actually is?! There is the pretreating, the soaking in Oxyclean (this is necessary for about 50 percent of my childrens clothes) the washing, the drying, the folding, the hanging AND the putting away. Uh...sooooo much work. For goodness sake...I am not a machine!

So maybe I have to dig through the dryer to find clothes for my boys some mornings. Ok, most mornings. And maybe we regularly wear socks that don't match. Perhaps once in a while I sniff pants to see which one smells the least nasty when I am dressing myself. At least our children are clothed. Except for any afternoon from3 pm on. I mean, who wears pants in the afternoon in their own house? Or before lunchtime? Come on!

Me...bad at laundry? Psssshhhhhh, what could he possibly be referring to?

Valentine Surprise

Chris was out of town.  On valentines day. Boo!  I had zero expectations for the day.  I was only hoping that no one decided to go grape stomping in the kitchen.  That would be gift enough. 

Charlie woke up singing the ABCs about 6:30 this morning and I played dead for about five minutes until he finally started yelling for me. "Moooooooommmeeeeeee!  Goo mooooorrrrrrninnnnnn!"  I shuffled upstairs to release the beast. When I got to the top of the stairs Connor burst out of his room and yelled, "Happy Valentine's Day mommy!!!!  It is the day of love!"  I just about melted right there on the carpet. This sweet little man remembered that all on his own without his father there to prompt him and couldn't wait to greet and hug me. That is the cutest, sweetest, most adorable thing ever. EVER! Right?

Wrong. It got even cuter. He started jumping up and down and talking so quickly I almost couldn't understand him. "Mom!  Mom! I have some Valentine stuff for you stashed in my closet!"

He disappeared into his closet for a few seconds then came out with a stuffed purple elephant inside a coffee mug. He told me this was the gift he had chosen for me and I needed to name the elephant. Immediately. 

Back into his closet. Reappeared with a box of chocolates with green one-eyed monster on the front. This is what Charlie chose. Connor said it was a picture of me or Mike Wozowski from Monsters Inc.  He wasn't sure which.

One more trip into the closet and he produced a pair of earrings from one of my favorite jewelry designers. 

This child usually cannot keep a secret for two seconds yet he managed to get instructions from Chris several days earlier and keep his mouth shut about it.  I was amazed. Way to go Connor. And way to go Chris...Now THAT is a sweet hubby.

Bad Breath Gone Too Far

Everyone has their pet peeves - gum smacking, biting nails, bad grammar, excessive clearing of the throat - the list goes on.  I have lots. In fact, as I have thought more about it I realize I may have a serious problem. The one that annoys me the most is bad breath.  I can be as happy as a lark feeling kind and carefree but if I smell bad breath I instantly want to punch the person in the throat and douse them in Listerine. Ick.  I despise it.  It it gross and rude.  I mean come on!  Have a little bit of respect for the people around you!  Always carry a mint and a package of gum with you.  Invest in some wisps people.

I frequently tell my husband and children things like, "eeewwwww brush your teeth."  "Uugggghhhhhh your breath stinks."  "Ick do not breathe on me!"  I do realize this is rude but it is less rude than punching them in the throat.  Today I discovered that I may need to lay off a bit.  I took the boys to a Valentines party for the new moms group that I joined.  Connor was sitting on my lap and I commented that something smelled bad.  "It's probably my breath mom," Connor said.   Well isn't that a lovely first impression.  I whispered to him that it wasn't his breath and that I thought his shirt smelled moldy. He hopped up and he and Charlie started playing with the other kids. 

I sat for a while longer chatting with the other moms. When it was time to go we said our goodbyes and made our way to the door. I thought to myself, "Well that was nice.  The boys were polite, didn't make a huge mess and played well with the other kids.  Success!!!!!"  Connor pointed to a group of children still playing and said, "Mom, that girls breath was baaaaaaaad.  I told her that she really needs to brush her teeth."

Whoops.  So much for first impressions.  At least he didn't punch her in the throat. 

A Two Blog Kind Of Day

This evening Charlie decided that losing my entire one piece swimsuit at the end of a ride at Wet N Wild in 1995 was no longer worthy of being in my list of top five most embarrassing moments. 

It started off innocently enough. What does a mother do when her nerves are worn thin and her husband has a work dinner?  She takes her children to run free in the little piece of hell known as McDonalds. 

It was going pretty well as far as McDonalds experiences go. There was the nasty food, the weird smell and a birthday party happening at the table next to us but nothing too unbearable. I was writing my to do list for the rest of the week when I heard Connor yell, "Mom Charlie took his pants off!!"  And it wasn't just the pants. It was the diaper too. I busted into a full on sprint to my little flasher.

I can't be certain but I'm fairly sure that the entire six-year-old birthday party went silent and stared at Charlie's bare little butt.  I tried to shield him while Connor spent what felt like days looking for the missing britches but, as I've shared before, he is an exhibitionist and loves for people to see him naked. So my attempted coverup turned into me slinging a shrieking, half naked two-year-old boy over my shoulder while I turned bright red. 

After I redressed and scolded him I tried to walk back to the table with my head held high. But there is just no coming back from that. I could feel those judgmental party parents' eyes burning holes in my back and I began to wonder if a child could be arrested for exposing himself.  F it!  We are leaving!

And that is why today definitely warranted two blog posts.  

Does this face not scream rude tude!?!?  It's a good thing he is so cute!

Let's Not!

I want what every mother wants for her children. I want my boys to be kind, intelligent little men who are polite, respectful and make good choices. I do my best (most of the time) to model this behavior and correct them when they make bad decisions. But some days...some days I really just want to tell them, “Today, let's just not be awful. Mmmkay?” Some days I give up on attempting model behavior and I want them to just NOT BE AWFUL!

How about lets NOT spit in our teachers face. Let's NOT tell people that we don't care what they say. Let's NOT throw our shoes at the dashboard. Let's NOT lick the driveway. Let's NOT get sent the office at school (at least not both of you). Let's NOT have an accident in our pants. And let's NOT try everything we can think of to make our mother cry. Tomorrow we can try again to be calm, well-mannered gentleman but for the rest of the day please, please, please let's just NOT BE AWFUL! Please boys. Your mother is begging you.

SAHM

I am a stay at home mom. It is hard. Sometimes I love it but sometimes...well...I HATE it with the fire of a thousand suns! I realize that this is a choice and that Chris puts us in a fortunate financial situation so that I can do this. Regardless, sometimes it is really, really difficult, lonely and frustrating. Today, I let one child ride on the others back while hitting him in the head with a matchbox car just so they would leave me alone for ONE DAMN MINUTE!!  

That being said, I am about to make a bold and polarizing statement: I cannot fathom how someone survives as a working parent or a single parent. I absolutely beyond a shadow of a doubt would be a miserable person if I were either. I vaguely remember how tired I was driving home from work when I worked a full time job before I had Connor. I cannot imagine a day spent dealing with the stress and irritations that come with a full time job then coming home to grouchy, tired children who still have to be cared for no matter how much you want to collapse on the couch.

It is true when they say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. Chris has been out of town for less than 24 hours and I am completely exhausted and irritable. Not only I am missing Chris my husband but I am missing Chris my co-parent! No matter what happens during my day I know that he will be home at some point to help. Some days knowing that he will be there to relieve me is the only thing that keeps me from locking myself in my closet. Both of my sisters were single mothers – Kelli only briefly but Lea Ann has been for 20 years. You deserve medals. Truly. And working parents, God bless you. Bonus points if your children know what any of the appliances in the kitchen are for besides the microwave. If I were a working mom my children would survive on chicken nuggets and peanut butter sandwiches alone. Oh wait...they do anyway. Crap.

My hat's off to you.

Buy Her A Box of Raisins

My dear friend sent me a text this morning describing the dramatic if not slightly suggestive rendition of Taylor Swift's “Never Ever Getting Back Together,” that her not quite two year old daughter gave this morning. It made me laugh hard and reminded me of something funny that happened when Connor was about the same age. My friend has three wonderfully sweet children but this last one...she is a firecracker.

When Connor was about a year old his, shall we say, personality started to really come out. We were in Mississippi visiting Chris's family and he had a particularly messy fit in front of Chris's aunt. “Oh, Chris!! You should buy him some raisins,” she said. Or at least that is what I heard. Hmm. That one was confusing to me but in my still newish mom stupor I forgot about it and moved on. You see, ever since I met Chris I have been schooled on all kinds of new southern sayings and colloquialisms that I have never been exposed to so I assumed his aunt telling him to buy Connor some raisins was one of those. Mississippi people have a whole list of these sayings. One of them comes out of someones mouth, everyone in the room laughs and I just look around confused. I never ask what it means. I don't want to look stupid and I usually pick up on it at some point.

I try not to get drunker than Cooter Brown. When someone asks me how much I like something I tell them how much I have left until I am finished. And I certainly don't want my children to be spolt. If you are confused about any of this, ask someone from Mississippi. :)

Anyway, a few months later Connor pulled another doozie in front of Chris's family and his mother said, “Ooooooh Chris, this one will pay for his raisins.” Hmmm....there is that one again. What on earth does that mean?!?!? I racked my brain. Are they saying he likes to eat? Do they think he will grow up to be bad with money and pay too much for things that should be cheap? Is there some magical behavior managing properties in raisins that I don't know about? I could not figure it out but again I chalked it up to a Mississippism that I just didn't understand.

When Connor was two years old we had the Bass family at our house around Christmas time. Naturally, Connor was on his worst behavior and started throwing a fit about a toy that was not doing what he wanted it to. Again my mother-in-law, “Oooooh honey. This boy is going to make you pay for your raisin!” OK! What the hell does that mean?!?!?!

That night, alone in our room, I finally broke down and asked Chris. “Why does everyone in your family keep saying that Connor will buy raisins?!” Chris looked at me like I had a tree limb growing out of my head. “What are you talking about?” I relayed the instances to him and he chuckled. “Pay for your raising. They are saying that I will pay for my raising. Like, Connor is my payback child for all the trouble I caused my parents.” Ooooooooohhhhhhhhh. Well yes. That makes total sense!!

So dear friend of mine – that third child of yours – you better buy her a box of raisins!!!!

The Biggest Danger On Our Roads

You have all seen it.  The suburban in front of you is cruising down the highway at 75 mph when all of the sudden it swerves to the right and you brace yourself for the piece of debris they are trying to avoid to come flying at your windshield.  Seconds pass. No flying tires. There was no road hazard. It is just a mom who had to turn around for a brief second to see if the blood curdling screams coming from the back seat was her toddler being murdered or if he just dropped his snippy cup.  Those family stickers with the stair step stick figure drawings are actually warning labels. They secretly read, "stay back 50 feet. I am driving with toddlers."

I'm guilty of it. I have to admit. Driving with small children in your car should really require some kind of special certification or training class.  It is quite difficult to navigate the roads when toys are being lobbed at you and someone is kicking you in the side of the head.  Oh and the yelling and demands...

"Mommy, turn up the volume!"

"Mommy, my cuuuuuuuupppppppp!"

"Mommy, he's trying to bite me!"

"Mommy, he bit me!"

"Mommy, I'm taking off my shoes."

"Mommy, I need to go teetee right now!"

"Mommy, I see McDonalds can we go there please please please!?!?"

It is a miracle that I don't crash my car everyday.  Driving with toddlers brings multitasking to a whole new level.  Who else besides a mom can drive with her knees, eat a sandwich, blindly find a water bottle on the floor board behind her and keep the two small humans in the backseat from maiming each other?  Am I right?

Shoes: Can You Really Put a Price on Perfection?

I love shoes. I mean I LOVE shoes. They have been a constant in my life. Bad mood? Put on a nice pair of shoes and it is an instant pick me up. Gain too much weight to wear my favorite dress? At least I can still wear nice shoes. Skin look like a pepperoni pizza? Shoes!! They never fail me. They are art. For me, walking through the shoe department at Nordstrom is tantamount to a stroll through the Guggenheim.

Since my first pair of high heels I have had a serious problem. In junior high I would have sold my soul to the devil for a pair of Doc Martens to wear to school. In high school I am pretty sure I kept The Wild Pair in business. I strayed a little in college and went flip flop crazy. Blame all those hippies in Austin. Graduating and getting my first job fueled the fire. I am certain that at age 22 I had more value in shoes that what was in my bank account. My name is Kristy and I am a shoeaholic.

In another life I would have been a shoe designer. I have tried on thousands of pairs of shoes and have been looking for the perfect pair for probably 20 years. If the heel is too low you will look like a librarian. Too high, a hooker. The angle of your foot has to be just right in order to walk in them for an extended period of time. The heel height to foot angle ratio is assisted by the placement of a platform but there is a fine line between leg lengthening platform and stripper pole platform. If the shoe makes you arch you back, you are a goner. The shoe must be made of real leather. Synthetics will rub your skin off. We are talking childbirth pain levels. I'm telling you, shoe making is one of the greatest art and science combinations that ever existed.

I have had several pairs that came close to perfect over the years but this weekend I found the HOLY GRAIL of shoes. It fits perfectly, is a timeless style and makes my legs look the best they ever have. It is the best shoe I have ever worn. The problem is that it is also the most expensive shoe I have ever worn.

Hmm...according to the husband I should not be spending so much money on shoes. After all I don't “go to work” anymore and “don't wear high heels very often” Hogwash I say!! When you find the Holy Grail of shoes do you just admire them and leave them on the shelf for someone else to discover?! Heck no!! You buy those puppies even if it means you don't get another pair of shoes for five years (um, yeah right...did I mention I have a shoe addiction!)

And he is wrong. I will wear them every day. Even with my yoga pants.

Family

This Saturday was my uncle Manuel's funeral.  He was my moms older brother and passed away two weeks ago.  He had liver and kidney problems and was certainly not old enough to die.  It has been very hard on my mom and has been difficult for me to see.  

The past few weeks I have been reflecting on many aspects of life; taking care of yourself, forgiveness, happiness, making good choices but mostly the importance of family.  I am fortunate to have great families on both sides but I have been thinking mostly about my moms side recently. My mom comes from a large family.  She has three brothers and a sister, aunts, uncles and cousins coming out her ears and so many family friends who are called aunt or uncle that sometimes the relation is not even clear.  This weekend I was able to see many of them.  When I was a child we visited San Antonio often and I saw my relatives regularly.  As we have all gotten older, the family visits are less and less frequent.  In fact, I saw some cousins this weekend that I had not seen in years.  It is unfortunate that we can only find the time to gather when someone has passed away.  Sadly, this is the reality of busier schedules, more commitments and lots and lots of people.

When I was younger I remember dreading the car trip to San Antonio and sleeping in my grandmothers uncomfortable bed next to my sister and having to take a bath in the creepy green bathtub (which is still in the house by the way).  But now I cherish those memories.  I remember my grandparents floral printed velvet couches and their giant wooden television that, gasp, did not have a remote control where I would watch wheel of fortune with my Grandpa.  I remember the creaky floorboards and not being able to reach the lock at the top of the bathroom door.  I remember drinking lots and lots of Big Red out of Solo cups.  I remember playing in the backyard while my grandmother was inside cooking and my Grandpa sat outside in a lawn chair sucking on lemons all afternoon.  I remember one cousin crashing through a plate glass door, one walking across hot coals, one pulling out all my grandmas jewelry and one eating an entire pound bag of M&M's. Nothing can replace those memories.

I pray that I can give those same kinds of memories to my children. I want them to know their family. I want them to remember how much they hated the nine hour drive to Mississippi and sleeping in the bunk beds at the lake and getting in trouble for throwing toys with their cousins.  I want them to know how important family is and that it cannot be replaced by anything. 

You Get What You Pay For

I love party poppers. How can you not love something that explodes with confetti and streamers?!  Last week I was at Michaels picking thru all the 80 percent off Chrismas items and came across a package of party poppers for $.99. Anyone who knows my husband knows his rule: if it costs $1 we buy it. It doesn't matter what it is. Clothing, toys, glogg... And don't get me started on the time we ate Christmas tree shaped pasta for six months because, "it only was five cents honey!!!"

$.99. I bought the poppers. I hyped the boys up. "It's going to be so cool," I told them. "Confetti and glitter will fly out and it will be like out own private party in the yard.!!!!"

So two very excited little boys went out into the hard ready to pull the strings on their super cool party poppers. Connor had the first one. 

"Oooookkkkk honey, here it comes!  It's going to be so exciting!  Ready?  One, two, three, PULL!!!!!"

No party flew out. I saw one black glob hit the grass a few feet away so I felt around until I found it. 

Nailclippers. 

Seriously?!  I just hyped my children up for nail clippers?  

Perhaps next year I will buy the full priced poppers. 

It's a pretty sad New Years when your kids are wrestling over a pair of nailclippers.