winning at parenting #4983

I don't own this orangutan or this picture 

Brady:  mom, when I'm older and bigger I want to be strong like an orangutan!
Me:  Orangutan?
Brady:  yeah, so I can crush people over my head! (makes people crushing motion over head)
Me:  Well, Brady, you can't just go around crushing people.  Remember what Uncle Ben told Spiderman, "with great power, comes great responsibility."

So clearly I won at parenting with that.   What seven year old boy doesn't understand a Spiderman reference?!

arachnophobia

my bathmat covered in my nightmares

I killed a spider today.  Not just any spider though-a baby carrying wolf spider.  Yeah, awesome.  Allow me to start from the beginning.

Seth, who was supposed to be in the bathroom doin' his business, came to find me to tell that their was a spider in the bathroom.  He can be prone to over reaction. He's called us in there before on similar matters like the little boy that cried wolf.  I got up expecting to have to remove some type of Grand-Daddy Long Legs.  Only this time, Seth was spot on.  Sitting in front of the toilet, like he (I always assume a bug is a he until otherwise proved wrong, it's just something I do) owned the place was the mac daddy of eight legged beast.

My first girl reaction was to find a way to trap this beast until someone, who was not me, could kill this devil beast.  That's how I roll.  My stance on bug killing this; outside you can live since I feel like it's me that encroaching on you.  Come inside my house and it's game on.

Well spider was a fighter.  He kept running up to the side of the bathtub where I could never get a cup down over his massive, probably on some sort of spider steroid, body.  I didn't want him to get away so I did what I had to..grabbed the Ant and Roach Raid (ants have been brutal here this summer, btw..what's up with that?).

Grabbing can and taking aim I begin shooting a steady stream of poison on this bad boy.  About .5 seconds after the Raid hit the body of the spider shit began to get real.  The spider began to sort of undulate it's body.  I just keep spraying.  Then I notice that the spider is starting to break apart, like, right before my eyes.  I'm still spraying by the way... It's about now that I notice that the spider isn't breaking, but instead that many tiny little baby spiders are running in all directions to escape my air raid (pun intended).  Holy EFF.

The boys are behind me and i'm yelling at them to "move! move! move!"  I'm just spraying poison now with reckless abandon. Mama spider is still shedding babies as she runs around, i'm spraying, baby spiders are running every where.  It was chaos and hell all rolled into one.  I sprayed until nothing moved.  Seems as if Ant and Roach spray is just as effect on mutant spiders too, score!

And because it's 2012 my first thoughts after surveying the carnage is "I so have to Facebook this".  Grabbing my phone, I bend down into the concentrated poison cloud trying to get the perfect shot of dead baby spiders and mom.  I'm not saying I feel proud about it, but it's what I did.  I'm coughing and gagging trying to get these pictures.  I even stopped to turn the vent on in the bathroom..  Pictures taken and uploaded Seth reminds me that he still needs to use the bathroom...a mother's work is never done.

Seth seemed upset about the idea of my having killed the baby spiders.  I think I breathed in too much spray because the only thing I managed to get out was  to sing some of the  "circle of life".  I emphasized  my point by singing the little African parts "ingonyama bagihi ingonyama..."  My lungs and head hurt the rest of the day too.

Freakin' spiders..
    

ghetto cowboy

not my s'more or my picture

Have you ever come across a site so absolutely great and hilarious and just wanted to share it with the everyone (kinda like how you probably feel about my blog...)

well my sister sent me an email this morning with a link to a Tumblr page called, ghettohikes.  As the page describes, this 28 year old individual named Cody leads groups of urbanites into the wild on camping trips and then writes down the hilariously honest things they say.

I'm not lying when I say I had laugh tears running down my face.  One of the best internet finds in a while for me.  The "hey girl" site full of Ryan Gosling images set a high barre.

Thanks Cody, keep the laughs coming!

moms rule

i don't own this picture, just the words.  don't sue me

The following is my recent article that appeared in my local paper, The Henry County Times.  

For one day out of the year, moms from all walks of life are celebrated and showered with love, and gifts of flowers and chocolate.  We’re congratulated for our heroine like efforts of producing life.  We are given lovely hand-made cards (probably that morning by a well-meaning spouse while the pop-tarts brown in the toaster for our breakfast in bed).  It’s all very heady stuff.  However, for the rest of 364 days of the year, the world sings a very different tune. 

As mom’s we are constantly being questioned, judged, and flat out disrespected at pretty much every turn in our efforts to raise our children.  A recent Times Magazine article asking “Are you mom enough” featured a mom breastfeeding a child, many felt, was far past the acceptable age of being breastfed.  The article in short is about the concepts of attachment parenting.  This article effectively stirs two very hot pots of parenting debate; breastfeeding and the age old argument of working moms vs. stay- at- home- moms. 

Let’s tackle the first one shall we?  I do not give one single ounce of a care on how any mom decides to ensure that her child receives nutrition.  At all.  As long as the mom, does in fact, try to make sure that her child is eating on a regular basis it should not mater to anyone else if that food is coming from ta-ta’s or a bottle.  It really is just as simple as that.  There are plenty of mom’s out there that starve their children and those moms we should be concerned with.  The ones that ARE feeding their kids should not be on anyone’s radar.  If the site of a boob bothers you that much you might have a bigger issues you might want to look into.  This is, after all, why woman have them right?  I know over the years the details have gotten muddled and many feel that woman and their attached body parts are solely for the amusement of others, but that’s not actually the case. Shocking right? 

Next up we have working vs. stay- at- home.  This is a hot topic.  Having done both in the short amount of time I’ve been a parent, I can debate from the fence.  It is absolutely none of my business or anyone else for that matter why a mom decides to work or stay at home.  The grass is always greener on the other side.  One of my favorite sayings is “you might know my story, but you don’t know my journey.”  I think this applies nicely here. 

And while we’re on this topic, moms, I want to talk directly to you for a moment.  Can we cut out the fellow mom bashing between us?  Some of our harshest criticism comes from each other. Why?   The last I checked we were all soldiers in the same war.   This isn’t friendly fire we’re throwing at one another.  Maybe the next time you feel like uttering that phrase that makes even your own skin crawl,  “ well, that’s not how I do it” opt for something a little more supportive.  Because we all know how it feels to be delirious with sleep at 3 a.m with a crying a baby that will.not.sleep.  and you are praying to every god in the cosmos that if you can just maybe get like thirty minutes of sleep that you will never do another bad thing in your life.  We know how it feels to hold our children, while the scream and cry, getting shots at the doctor’s.   And your own eyes sting with tears that you cannot cry because you have to be the strong parent, but inside you feel like dying.  We all know that joy, pure and unadulterated, the first time our babies say “momma”.  Because most babies say “dada” first.  I dunno why.  I’m going to assume that every mom I know is doing their personal best.  We all should. 

So to answer the question “ Are you mom enough?”  Yeah, I am.  And so is every other mother out there making sure their kids grown up to be happy and healthy.  We moms have enough plates spinning in the air most days that really the last thing we need is someone implying that we’re not doing a good enough job.  We’re doing just fine thank you.   So can we put this tired old debate to bed once and for all.   The economy looks like it needs a little help though so maybe we should focus on that.  Or do us mom’s need to fix that too?  

i ain't sayin' she a gold digger

I read the other day that "super" model Linda Envangilista and her baby daddy, Francois-Henri Pinault,  reached a settlement in the child support case of their son.  Miss. Model was asking for a measly $46,000 (THOUSAND!) a MONTH to take care of ONE child.  Just one. 

Um, okay.  Where to start.  I have two kids and to date, I don't think they have collectively cost me anywhere  near that much money in the seven years I have been a parent.  I know Linda used to be some hot stuff once upon a time on the catwalk, but home girl is looking at doing anti-wrinkle commercials for Olay.  Forty-Six thousand a month?!   Does the child eat caviar for breakfast, lunch, and dinner?  Is his nanny the holographic image of Tupac?  I know that whole "maintaining a standard of living" nonsense they'll feed the media, but  someone might want to suggest that Linda look into couponing and budgeting.  The details of the settlement haven't been made public..yet, but i'm sure it will still be more then then average American family makes in a year. Awesome.  

Now I'm not saying that ol' Franc shouldn't be paying up.  Last I heard it takes two to tango.  I did sorta pay attention in sex ed. back in middle school.  And while we are on that topic someone might want to explain where babies come from to Mr. Pinault.  Aside from the very expensive trophy from nailing a one time hot piece of ass he is also the father to two children from a previous marriage and shares a daughter with baby mama ( and now wive) Selma Hayek.  At least that feisty little siren from south of the border has the good sense to make him put a ring on it.  Kudos sista! 

Looking at pictures of Francois you'd be hard pressed to try to tell me that these children were the product of love.  Maybe he's really charming or smells good, I dunno.  He probably just showed these "ladies" his bank statement and their panties combusted.  At least that's how I imagine it in my head.  

If i'm being honest, a small part of me is probably a little jealous.  Sure, Mr. Pinault isn't my usual type, but if he called me up I would drop it like it's hot and hope to God I was ovulating.  Cha-Ching!  

pink eye

Being a mom has a lot of really awesome moments.  Like when you hear your child say he loves you for the first time, how they run and leap into your arms and the such.

Sometimes though it's not all fun and games.  Like when they share with you their pink eye germs.  Yup, that's not so awesome.  I could have done without them sharing their butt scratching doo-doo finger germs with me.  I know it originated from B and S because they're just getting over their own conjunctivitis.  Trying to type out a blog post with one functioning eye kinda sucks.  My right eye is pretty much swollen shut right now.  Turns out you really do need both eyes for silly things like depth perception. Pouring the kids juice this morning was a real laugh (not really)

On top of all this fun I have a math test tomorrow.  So it's off to the drug store for a doo-doo eye walk of shame...
 
p.s.  I was going to add a picture of a pink eye infected eye...but upon googling it I changed my mind.  ugh.  some things can't be unseen.

troubled waters

http://youtu.be/o7BmJM_9RUM   (click on that because I can't figure out how to embed the link, but read the following first)

So that above scene, that I in no way own and apologize for it's horrible quality, pretty much sums up my evening with Seth.  Something he ate decided to wage a war in his tiny tummy tonight before bed and he found himself battling a case of "muddy water" as he calls it.  And I, as his very lucky mom, had the privilege of sitting with him in the bathroom while a scene very much like the above one, played out.  That is just one of the many perks of being a parent.  You never know if your kids are going to want mommy or daddy in their times of need.  So when I got called into the bathroom tonight to ride out the storm with my ailing four year old, I went.  I think such situations are listed in the fine print of rights you waive when you leave the hospital with your bundle of joy.  Along with things like ever soundly sleeping again, hot meals for at least the first five years, showers that last longer than fifteen minutes, ect.

One thing to know about Seth is that he NEVER stops talking.  He's even been known to talk in his sleep.  So while he violently evacuated his lower intestines he kept up a steady stream of conversation like we were sitting on the couch having a normal conversation.  And if you know anything about me,  I have the maturity level of a  twelve year old boy when it comes to bathroom jokes so it takes every fiber of my being not to collapse into a fit of giggles and keep a straight face.  My favorite line from Seth was when he looked down at his tummy and exclaimed, "tummy, what's wrong with you!!".

I am glad to report that by the time he drifted off to dream land he seemed fine and hopefully that will be the case through the night.  Although I won't hold my breath for that since that whole no sleep thing was in the fine print.  Well, I take that back, I will be holding my breath but for a different reason.

random thoughts

not my actual egg, duh.  

I partially read a story earlier that, in short, was something about the emotional downfall of donating eggs for strangers to use in IVF.  It got me thinking though...I will never be able to donate my eggs.  Ever.  Not because  I am morally against such things, but because I have a kid with autism.

Having a child on the spectrum nobody is ever going to want a part of my genetic code.  Even though autism hasn't been linked to be genetic, they'll turn their noses up at my ovaries offerings.  They won't care that my son is one of the funniest, smartest, caring, insightful, adorable ( adjective etc) kid on the face of the planet.  That they should be honored to have a child that is 1/4 of his awesome.  They won't even care that we have son that isn't on the spectrum and he's just as equally amazing as his brother in his own way.  

and to that I say..it's their lose.  They probably couldn't handle such an amazing kid anyways.  It's an honor and a privilege to raise such a child and I thank the universe daily for choosing me to accept the challenge.  

I'll leave you with a gem brady shared with me today

"a hungry person never passes up the chance to lick the beaters" -brady, age 7.  Autistic and more awesome than your genetically engineered kid.  

just a little reminder

Just a reminder that if you want to keep up with the two crazy kids for which the blog is named after then clicky over to the side on my Facebook link and then subscribe.  How easy is that?!  And you'll probably end up with a daily dose of funny on your news feed.  It's a win-win situation!

may the odds...

be ever in your favor

Trying to capitalize on my eye of the tiger feelings the other day I've been trying to keep busy.  Well by busy I mean trying to juggle school, kids, life, and what I'm pretty sure is a full on addiction to Pinterest.  I also discovered my phones ability to act as a Kindle.  I read seven books last week.  I'm not bragging, but seven...

Six of those seven were parts two separate series though.  One being The Hunger Games.  Go read it if you have not!  Now!  I'll excuse you from reading the rest of this post to go do so.   Don't worry you won't miss anything. This series is probably one of the best I've read.  Good writing and thought provoking while still being a page turner.  I stayed up several nights well past midnight reading.  When you have a four year old that wakes with the rooster's that leaves you dragging the next day.

  The second series I read was the Fifty Shades trilogy.  That was..different.  Good, but I wouldn't (couldn't) recommend it to my mama without blushing wildly.  But I will recommend it to you with the warning that it's for the prudish at heart.

I devoured Water for Elephants.  I haven't seen the movie yet, but wanted to read the book before I sat down to enjoy some Robert Pattinson goodness.  I've started, but not finished The Lucky One.  Who doesn't love Nicholas Sparks?  Well The Notebook..the movie version...Ryan Gosling.  Yeah, it's probably just about Ryan Gosling.  anyways..

Now you know what I've been up to.  In case you cared.  And to garner some reader feedback.  How many of you are planning on going to see The Hunger Games?  Are you Team Peeta or Team Gale?

eye of the tiger

Have you ever had such a sudden sense of clarity about what you wanted and expected out of life?  No?  Yes?  Well right now I have just that.  Eye of the tiger type shit.  I gotta say, it's a pretty awesome feeling.

On that high note, I'll be back tomorrow with more bloggin' goodness.  I've got some big things in mind for my writing too, including the ol' blog.  Are you excited?  You should be!

ring of fire

I was twenty-five, with two kids before I ever had my very own cell phone.  Shocking right?!  Well it's true.  Up until that point I never really had a need for one.  It was a sturdy little Nokia and I love this phone.  Naturally one of the first things I did was look into downloading ring tones.  Trying match the perfect thirty second sound clip with the right person.  It was time consuming and pain staking.  Well pain staking in that I had a hard time justifying spending money on a clip of a song.  Not the whole song, but just a snippet.  To know me is to know that this sort of thing does not jive with my cheap thrifty mentality.

Now, almost five years later I've given up ring tones of all types.  Especially those horribly obnoxious call back ring tones.  You know, the song of choice that the person you are trying to reach seems to think you would be delighted to hear while you wait for them to just answer their damn phone.  Yes, please, I love listening to Nickleback while you do lord only knows what and make me wait to answer. Awesome.  If you have such a thing on  your phone and wonder why you never hear from me ( and probably a lot of other people too) I hope this shed some light on the matter for you.

I think my enlightenment on the obnoxious nature of ring tones comes mainly from my times as a secretary.  I worked for a while at the local courts where things like cell phones were not permitted in the court room.  If, for whatever reason, a person had no place to safely store their phones I would agree to hold them at my desk.  On the condition that the phones where completely turned off or at least set to silent.  Well a few slipped by.

Nothing is more embarrassing when you are trying to do your job, a very public job, and suddenly you hear something along the lines of  "to the window, to the wall, till the sweat drips down my balls".  Imagine me red faced and fumbling to turn off this offending little piece of technology on my desk while I sputter and try to explain that this phone does not even belong to me, I swear!

Now don't get me wrong, I enjoy some good offensive music from time to time.  However, I enjoy it in the comfort of my own home or in my own ears via headphones.  I don't explode it from my car stereo or through my cell phone while I wait in line at the bank or grocery store.  My phone almost always stays on vibrate.  This works for me, until it gets lost (which is often) and have a hard time calling the phone to locate its whereabouts.

So please, can we cool it with the ring tones?  That'd be awesome.  And you would save money, so double score!

keep you forever

me and a smaller Seth.  

Seth will be starting kindergarten in the fall.  My baby, the kindergartner.  I have some pretty mixed feelings about this and I can tell he does too.  Sure we have gone through this once already with his older brother, but by the time Brady started kindergarten he had already been going to school since he was three.  It was a special day none the less in its own way, but honestly I had already shed my tear two years ago.  Seth though, this is new.  He is our last child and our only child that has been home with me full time since the day he was born.  Well I did work for a while, but his grandmother kept him so he's never set foot in a classroom of any type.  Most days he is ready to hop on that big yellow bus with his brother, other days, not so much.  

Seth spends his day pretty leisurely. He is at least used to getting up early so that won’t be new to him, but the structure of school is going to be a big shock!  I think that Seth's idea of school is a place where you go and play and maybe, if you feel like it, learn a few things.  I've tried to tell him, prepare him, that school is a place where you sit in a little chair and you have to listen and raise your hand to talk and all that jazz.  I'm not sure how well all the information is sinking in most of the time.  I know he will learn soon enough, all be it probably the hard way that I meant what I said. 

Other days he is glued to my side.  My shadow.  He tells me that he wants to keep me forever.  This singular phrase explodes my heart every time.  I want to be able to tell him that he can stay with me here at home forever.  I can’t of course.  One day I did though.  I asked him to stay little forever and stop growing so fast.  That I was going to miss him when he started school.  Seth, my little old soul, did not humor my moment of weakness.  Instead he puts his little boy hands, that were probably sticky, on both sides of my face, and with an expression so serious that it should not and could not belong to a four year old boy looked me straight in the eyes and says "But mommy, I have to go to school.  I have to learn!"  I cannot argue with him.  He's right, of course he's right.    I pull him close for a big hug and to also give myself a minute to compose my face.  I want to laugh and cry, but know that neither is a good idea. So I just hug him tighter.  

I hope his future teacher is able to see Seth for the amazing little person he is.  That this person will have patience and understanding when he tells her she’s wrong and goes on to explain why.  That she allows herself, on occasion, to be taken in by those baby blues. Know that he will frustrate you and make you laugh in the blink of an eye. Most importantly though make him want to keep you forever.  

it puts the lotion on its skin

take that wrinkles! 

No, I am not gonna review "Silence of the Lambs"  other than to say it's creepy and gave me nightmares.  So what am I talking about?  Well, lotion.  duh.  

I turned 29 this year.  Ugh, right?!  In doing such I decided that it was past time that I start paying attention to the care of my epidermis.  That's skin for you common folk.  

As a child any exposure to the sun led to me doing my best imitation of a cooked lobster.  My red tinted hair and Irish blood laughed in the face of SPF.  Not only did thick coatings of zinc not prevent sunburn, but it often time only made my skin more angry at me for exposing it to the sun’s harmful rays.  I would burn AND blister.  Awesome.  But summer after summer, there I was, throwing the proverbial finger at the sun and my skin trying to keep up with my sister who tanned like an Indian princess.  My sister got mother's ability to tan effortlessly where I got her tendency to gain weight in the midsection.  Yay me..  

My teenage years weren't much different.  Summers were spent in a lawn chair getting my tan on.  After that first burn of the summer  (man that sounds so bad..)  I would normally darken up pretty nice.  When you're 15 you don't worry about the freckles that lead to skin cancer.  Pass me the baby oil you say. "Do you smell bacon, guys?" you ask.  No, it's just your burning flesh.  

After I had kids getting sunburned really became painful.  That's only because your kids will find it fun to come up to you and pull, jump, slap, and smack your angry red surface.  Mommy's face twisted in pain is funny.  Do it again!!  Their constant need for attention doesn't jive with your need to lay in a prone position on the couch slathered in aloe.  

So now at the cusp of 30 I decided I should start taking this seriously. For a while now I've been making sure I put on a base of SPF ( the pictured lotion to be exact) before I put on my make-up (which also contains sun protector).  And for night time use I began using an anti-aging creme.  That's right, a night cream...like your grandmother.  Take that wrinkles!  Oh! And is that chamomile I smell?  That's nice.  

Along with this routine of face lotions and creams I have a team of lotions for the other quadrants of my body.  Not only am I preventing anymore skin damage, but it's probably a pretty effect way to thwart would be attackers.  You can't attack what you can't even get a grip on.  That's my theory at least.    

So kids, don't wait until you are looking crow’s feet in the face (haha, see what I did there) and start laying on that Olay now.  And also, don't watch that a fore mentioned movie unless you like nightmares.

tummy bug

So where have I been lately...dealing with a super fun stomach bug.  Thankfully it was only one sided so to speak.  You know, and not the kinda bug that leaves you wondering which end gets the toilet first..yeah.  And now that I've all grossed you out...

I'll try to get a better blog post up by Thursday.  It won't be about poop..hopefully.

the big day

At the beginning of the month I had mentioned that I was toying with the idea of cutting off a bunch of hair  for a good cause.  Well that day has come.  I have an 11:30 appointment to undergo the shears.  I will update later today the before and afters.

Also on deck for the coming weekend is a trip to Alabama.  J has to work so it'll just be me and the boys and all of J's family!  Luckily for me, everyone gets along.  I'll also be taking my school stuff to keep up with my homework.  Being a grown up sucks is so much fun.

I'll leave you with a conversation that I had with Seth this weekend about hair..

seth: (sticking his head in my face) lick my hair.
me: excuse me, what?
seth:  lick my hair...like  Lion King..(waits) just do it.
me:  no, and move your head.


*update* as promised the before and after pictures!

before

after

a bag full of hair. 

me vs. technology

Office Space.  Why not.  This is how I felt.  

As the title suggest, me and technology  have not be friends this week, at all.  By mid week it was a full on war.  Allow me to explain.

Tuesday night I plugged in my phone to charge, like I do every night, and it gave a little buzz, like it always does, to let me know that everything was connected in their proper places and I went off to dream land.  The next morning I grab my phone and rush to get me and the boys ready to head out the door for school.  Half way to school I realize my phone is barely charged..hmm weird I think.  I get to class, plug in my phone to charge some more, but that little buzz doesn't happen.  That tell tale little buzz that lets me know my phone is happily charging away.  I plug and unplug, blow on connections, turn phone on and off, plug again..no buzz.  Then I see the problem-the charger cord is almost entirely broken in half.  Huh?  How did THAT happen?  Over night at that.  A head scratcher to be sure.  Thankfully my cell phone provider replaced it free of charge since I've barely had the phone two weeks.

Thursday morning I'm using my laptop when it alerts me that the battery is dying.  Odd considering that the charger was already IN.  I investigate and discover that the little needle that connects the charger to the computer is broken.  Again, seemingly overnight another charge has bitten the dust.  Off to Best Buy because I can't function with out my laptop ( I have to have it for school). Unfortunately Best Buy isn't as generous in giving out free chargers.  High-way robbery later I got a charging laptop.

However, my sweet little laptop seems to have contracted a computer STD.  Thankfully I have a friend who does IT and he was able to bring my computer back from the brink of total melt down.  Well maybe the laptop wasn't on the verge of a melt down, but I certainly was!  Joe totally saved the day!

Thankfully I haven't had anymore tech problems since then (knock on wood!).   I'll leave you with how I explained computer viruses to my seven year old..

me:  the computer has sickies, a virus.
brady:  why?
me:  because some people just want to watch the world burn.

yup a "The Dark Knight" quote.  ( that I think originally says "men", but you get the point..and he's seven...don't send hate mail.)

to cut or not to cut, that is the question

snip snip

So I've got some crazy long hair.  Not so long that you might mistake me for being associated with any particular religion, but it's pretty long.  I went an entire year with out cutting my hair, not for any particular reason other than financial.  I figured not cutting my hair was better than a cheap-o cut at the place beside where I get my groceries.  (Not hatin'..just sayin')

So my hair grew and grew and grew some more in a years time.  I love my hair, really I do, but some days I day dream of whacking it all off.  Which sends J into a panic because he really really loves the long locks.  While I love my long hair it certainly has some draw backs.

1.  It's heavy.
2.  As a mom 10 times out of 10 my hair is pulled back in a really cute boring pony tail.
3.  It gives me headaches.
4.  I get hair dryer elbow (that's probably an actual medical malady..but I'm not going to bother to Google and verify)
5.  J gets the dirty job of pulling my hair sheddings from the bath tub drain.  He gave this wad of cast off hair a nick name "Leezur".  ( I lose a lot of hair..it's pretty gross)

and so forth and so on...you get the picture.

I've been toying with the idea lately of chopping the locks for a worthy cause.  I've been working to get my hair back into a more healthy state after a years worth of neglect.  Right now my hair is relatively healthy.  My ends were a hot mess of split ends.  I never felt it was right to donate split end riddled hair to poor little cancer patients  The cancer is bad enough, without the added insult of my nappy hair for a wig.  Now I feel it's coming back around and I keep going back to giving back.

But I worry I'll mourn my long tresses.  Will the do good feelings I get of helping a little girl feel pretty in the face of such horrendous circumstances help me get over my own vanity..probably.  It's only hair after all....

testing testing

Just a heads up that I have not abandoned my dear blog.  I just have a few test at school coming up that I've been busy studying for.  Math test tomorrow and a early american history test on Monday.

Honesty, who plans test on Mondays!  My professor apparently.  Tests on Mondays should be against the law.  I know there are much bigger things to worry about in Congress right now, but that's something that should be looked into soon.  Just sayin'.

I went out and got myself a new calculator today too.  Exciting right?!  No..no it isn't.  If you agreed that it was exciting then, well...I'm sorry.  The fancy pants graphing calculator I bought last semester (that I wasn't supposed to use, but so totally did like a total rebel!)  decided to crap out on me.  I should return it, but honestly I just don't want the hassle.  It's probably been too long anyways.  Are there still math teachers in the world that try to teach without using calculators?  I remember as a small school girl being told "you need to know how to do this in your head, you won't always have a calculator handy!"  Clearly they had no way of seeing into the future that included smart phones.  Teaching math without a calculator is like telling a person they can't use the dictionary in my  book.  Sometimes you need to double check yourself.

So if the blog post aren't forth coming over the next few days you'll know it's because I am buried underneath a pile of history notes.  No need to send help...but feel free to send chocolate!

*update* I made an "A" on the math test!

they said what? week in review

So I thought a fun way to incorporate the whack-a-doodle things the boys say to the blog was to do a weekly recap.  If I made a blog post for every funny thing that came out of B and S's mouth I'd be overwhelmed with blog post.  That sounds braggy, but I don't mean it that way...

Once I figure out how- I plan to include a link to my Facebook page where you can subscribe to all the mouthy shenanigans of the boys.  Until then this will have to do.  A highlight of some of the more chuckle endusing statements and conversations that have taken place this week.

"I want to be a Barbie Girl" - Seth age 4

Lady on the new:  those images were from an exploding transform
Seth: Transformers?  Optimus?
Me:  not those kinds of Transformers.

The boys playing outside (A bee came and decided to take over the bucket they were filling with dirt)
Seth ( going to see if the bee had left)
Brady:  Seth, leave the bee to his business!
Seth:  It gone now, Bready! ( how it sounds when seth say's his brothers name)
Brady:  Okay, I just don't want you to get stung.

Brady: (to me) Do I have homework tonight

Me:  not that I know of

Brady:  (gesturing to his little brother who was playing alone and not paying attention) Why don't we let him do all the homework and I do all the fun stuff?

Me:  I don't think it works that way..

Remember you can head over to my Tumblr and check out past funnies from the boys.  And i'll be working on that Facebook link.  


*edit.  I have added a link over there to my Facebook (which is set up that you can subscribe to all my public post.)  sorry I will not be accepting friend request..unless I really know you.  sorry..  

smart phone

the little Nokia overlord 

First a blog, then organic milk, and now a smart phone.  I feel like I'm am cheetah racing into this crazy yuppie grown up life.

So we finally broke over and upgraded our phones today.  I've only had a cell phone for about four years.  Only four years you say?  How did you get along in life not having a cell phone as soon as they hit the world you ask?  Honestly, I have no idea.  Once I discovered texting I was hooked ( I think my first text was "I just peed" and it was to my BFF in the bathroom stall next to mine at the store I had just bought the phone. I wasn't such an adult then even though I was 26..)

Since then I've had a few more cell phones, but usually the cheapest one available. The idea of spending THAT much money on a such a small device boggled my mind a little.  Don't get me wrong, I didn't go crazy with the smart phone.  I shopped around and made sure to get the best deal.

In this day and age of constant contact making the move to a smart phone was beginning to be unavoidable.  While I love my new phone so far I do sort of miss the old days.  The days where you weren't border-lined obsessed with everyone knowing your every move or checking up on theirs (darn you, Mark Zuckerberg!)  I miss that simplicity of life.  But I also really love texting.

So what will I be doing the rest of the evening?  Actually reading the little instruction book that came with the phone.  While I text and update my blog and my Facebook.  So 2012!

meat all about it

happy cows are giving you the stink eye

I decided at the start of the year ( not a resolution as I never stick to those!) to make some healthy changes in my daily life.  One was to floss every day, and so far so good.  I bought those handy little flossing sticks and that helps.  I hated thinking that I was over using floss every time I would wind and wind floss string around my fingers and try to shove my hands in my mouth to reach my molars.  It's what always makes me throw my hands up at flossing.  These little sticks fit much better, and I don't feel like I'm wasting as much.  Well the extra plastic in the garbage issue is there, but we can't win it all I guess.

My second decision was to eat more ethically.  Not exactly vegetarian, but to just be more aware of where my food came from.  I ended up watching this life ruining changing documentary from P.e.t.a.  I know..I know, anything that is produced by them is going to be heavily biased and I promise that they didn't disappoint.  And while the video went for a lot of shock value there are some grains of truth.

By the year 2012 we should be more capable of moving away from the idea of "factory farms".  People gotta eat and animals are tasty, but there are ( or at least should be) better ways to treat them before they grace your dinner plate.  If you want some interesting reading on the topic look up the work being done by Temple Grandin.  Read up on Miss, Grandin too while you're at it, she's one pretty amazing lady!

So back to my ethical eating.  I haven't eaten any meat since the first of the year.  I did have chicken once or twice and some salmon, but I found myself apologizing before every bite ( don't worry it's already been documented that I'm crazy..)  I tried my first veggie burger recently, that was gross interesting.  I mean, it was okay, but I wasn't blown away.  I'll keep trying them until I find one I do like though.  I almost bought some veggie bacon, but the picture on the package made me think about the dog treats, Beggin' Strips.  I just couldn't do it.

So what are some of your favorite meatless dishes?  Oh, and I you feel like having your day ruined life changed Google the video Glass Walls.  Kudos to you if you can make it the whole eight minutes and not go throw out every single package of meat you might have in your home.

lactose intolerance

really? why?

Tonight I am mourning the loss of a beloved and dear friend, whole milk.  I loved whole milk probably my whole life (well except that time I was hitting the bottle hard in infancy)

Lately though I've noticed that whole milk doesn't seem to like me back, like at all.  We became a sort of "friend-enemy".  As is I still wanted to be friends and hang out and whole milk wanted to stab knives in my intestines and make my pants not fit.  Not cool whole milk, not cool at all.

So doing what any 21st century girl would do, I Googled that shit.  I was wary of WebMD because I didn't want to be convinced that my seemingly sudden intolerance to milk was cancer..because somehow it's always cancer when you go to WebMD.  So after some extensive internet research that took several hours (and probably a few pictures of Robert Pattinson to my Pinterest) I decided that I was lactose intolerant.

I won't bother getting technical as you can Google as well as I can..or maybe not..I'm pretty awesome when it comes to Google.  I am not, however, awesome at digesting lactose.  Can't win them all I guess.

So with this new found knowledge I started a quest to find a milk that wouldn't send me into a cramp-y and bloat-y hot mess.  Soy and Almond creeped me out the most.  I have never looked at either a soy bean or an almond and thought " I bet the juice extracted from that would be delicious with a cookie!"..ever.  And I was right, both were gross.  ( to me at least, don't leave hate comments..)

Tonight though I think I finally found my winner.  I broke over and purchased organic, 2%, lactose free milk.  The 2% alone makes me feel like crying.  I was happy to see that this milk actually looked like milk..not a pale shade of brown.  And even more happy that upon tasting that it TASTED like milk!  Like actual fatty fat non 2% milk!  An hour later and my tummy seems happy.  Bingo!

So farewell whole milk!  No longer can you stab my intestines with your hurtful lactose!

Having turned 29 last week and 2% lactose free milk this week has me feeling like such an adult.  A lame, lactose intolerant, organic milk buying adult.

confessions

Or..." what will be used against me when my sanity finally comes into question"

I, like most people, have quirks.  Sometimes though I think maybe I have more than others.  Maybe by sharing some of my personal bug-a-boos I won't feel so crazy because maybe they'll be some peeves of yours too..maybe.  Or maybe it'll just confirm what we probably already knew, that my mind doesn't work like everyone else.

1.  I don't like monkey's.  At all.  They creep me out in fact.  Most people look at monkey's and see cute and cuddly animals.  I see sharp teeth and jugular ripping.  They're too unpredictable.  "Don't look 'em in the eye...they'll think you're challenging their dominance..."  BAM! crap upside your head.

2.  I do not and will not lick my fingers while I'm baking.  It's not because I have an aversion to raw eggs or anything because I can eat the heck out of some batter.  I don't know why the idea creeps me out, but it does.  So that means I end up washing my hands like a gazillion times while I cook.

3.  I hate crossing streets alone.  In fact..I was 25 before I ever had to cross a street solo.  Shocking right?!

4.  Mascots, like you find at sporting events, Six Flags, and Disney scare the bejeezus out of me.  Just thinking about them makes me feel funny.  I think it's their never changing temperaments that is so off putting to me. Puppets also fall in this category.

5.  I'll hold my breath without even realizing that I'm doing as such.  Until I'm forced to gasp for air.

Well I think that's enough for now to make me look completely insane.    What are some of your nutty personality traits?

eight years and a lifetime

Today marks eight years or relatively happy togetherness for me and J.  I say relative because, like any other couple, we've had our ups and downs.

Thankfully, the ups have edged out the downs.  The past eight years have gone by in a blink and I sort of hope that the years ahead of us are nice enough to slow down.  Well, maybe the years I'm in school can hurry up a little, but after THAT, slow down..

And how great is that quote over there.  We've had several great days together.  The birth's of our children being at the top of that list!  And many more that are best left between he and I ( as well as the bad days)  But we have so much more to look forward to in life!

So here is to eight years and lifetime!  And so far nobody has had to call the cops.  Let's keep the record clean!

dear paula

I don't normally get all worked up over stuff, but this today has boiling my blood.

I'm riding butter ya'll! All the way to the bank! 

Paula Deen, queen of fried chicken and BFF to the Land o' Lakes girl, announced today (officially) that she has type two diabetes.  The diabetes that many people have because of poor diet choice and lack of exercise ( I understand that genetics plays a role too..I can use WebMD just like everyone else..)  

Here is the part that gets my ire up.  She's known for three years!  Three years she's known and been working with her own personal doctors (and a pharmaceutical company, more on that in a bit..) to create a plan for her to manage a disease that, if not treated, can lead to vision problems, nerve damage (which can lead to amputation), and worst of all heart disease related death.  But during this three years this didn't stop Mrs. Deen from hocking all sorts of butter laden dishes at us via her popular cable t.v. show.  Just looking at the food  network site there are at least five different ways she's taught us how to cook friend chicken. So while she was busy working to save her own life, she was essentially trying to help you shorten yours.  If your ire isn't up yet too..keep reading.  

So about that Pharmaceutical company.  Good ol' Paula is teaming up to create a program that will "help" others to live and manage their own Diabetes, but continue to live the life they're accustomed.  Read, continue to eat copious amounts of butter and deep fried animal meat.  Seems like a solid plan. You know the best way to manage type two diabetes...diet and exercise!  It's that simple!  You don't need Paula Deen telling you how to do it!

Also,  I've seen a lot of people mention that all things in moderation is key to a healthy lifestyle.  I agree.  However, in the case of Mrs. Deen many of you might be aware that she runs a restaurant down in Savannah, Georgia.  The menu boost many southern specialties cooked with love and generous amounts of bacon grease.  The restaurant also houses a buffet of all you can eat comfort food goodies.  Now, unless their is a sign on said buffet that states "just take what you can eat, ya'll!" then I doubt that Paula is preaching anything about moderation.  And you often hear the argument " well nobody is forcing anyone to eat all of it!"  True, but lots of folks, myself included, were raised with the "clean plate club" mentality. So no, she doesn't have to force you to eat it all up, your parents have already done that for her with years of conditioning.  We also have a sense of wanting to get our money's worth.  I haven't done a great deal of research on the matter, but I doubt that three years ago when Deen was diagnosed that she began implementing a healthier menu at the restaurant.  I'd imagine that the food was still cooked as it always had been, swimming in grease and butter.  So please don't tell me that she give one iota to helping the masses life a healthy life..  

So to lay this out in  black and white..Paula Deen has been promoting a diet of fat ridden, unhealthy food, it caught up with her and NOW she's going to capitalize on it, make tons of money.  Yay ya'll!  

And on the heels of this news,  Burger King is testing marketing home delivery of their tasty fare.  That's right folks...you don't even have to leave the house and change out of those sweats to get your fix of flame broiled goodness.  Actually from what I've seen most people don't bother to change out of their sweats to patronize places like Burger Kind anyways, so score!  

It's things like this that makes me want to promote a healthy way of eating and living.  Look around guys..we are slowly killing ourselves..and for what?  

let's get physical

Since I've been tackling so many life goals lately I think it's past time that I took on the most important, healthy living.  

I'm in the pink.  My face speaks volumes .

Before I had kids I was relatively in shape, or rather I was happy about what I saw in the mirror.  Exercising for me meant spending the summer by a pool working on my tan and occasionally cooling off in the water.  We won't talk about the dangers of skin cancer right now..I'll save that for another day.  

Since having kids though...yeah.  

I don't feel that my problem lies in what I'm eating since, generally speaking, we eat pretty healthy around here. my problem lies in that the idea of actual sweat inducing, heart pumping exercise thrills me about *this* much.  I'd rather face the possibility of a root canal then go running.  I might not have a problem with running had my gymnastics coach when I was a little girl mentioned to my mom that I "ran funny".  How does a six year old girl run funny?  From what I've seen all kids run funny. Either way it set up a life long complex.  Sad right?  

But I can not put this off any longer!  For one, I'd like to ensure a nice happy and long life with my family, but now I have new motivation... my ten year high school reunion!  Nothing is more motivating then the idea of people you graduated with seeing you at less than your personal best!  

So I'm going to channel my inner Olivia Newton John and do this!  I don't intend the blog to be a "healthy" blog, but it will be my outlet in this journey.  My accountability partner if you will.  Maybe I will even inspire someone else!  

29 and holdin'

So...it's my birthday!  *birthday dance*  Be glad I didn't feel the need to take a video of said dance..

 I’ll try not to think about it being unlucky since it falls on a Friday the thirteenth.  I have been doing a great deal of lamenting on the topic on my Facebook page recently.  Well my friends might call it “whining”, but I will  say lamenting.  I happen to be turning twenty-nine.  Yup, the last year of my twenties before the big 3-0.

What is it about passing from one decade to another that can send relatively normal folks into complete tail-spins?  I can recall turning ten and mourning the passing of my single digit years.  No longer could I claim youthful innocence on wrong doings.  Turning ten meant a new level of life accountability that seemed terrifying.  Teenage years loomed ahead and, if I am being honest, I probably still wanted to just play with Barbies.  You soon leave the safety of Elementary School and are thrown into a big pond that is Middle School.  Then the ocean that is High School. 

My twenties started out benign enough.  I hadn’t been in the real world long enough to really mess anything up and I had the freedom of being an adult.  Though I did not spend my twenties very typically, I opted for motherhood over college parties.  Not that I regret that one bit.  I don’t feel that I missed out one single bit.  So I don’t feel this is why a feel the need to mourn the passing of my twenties?

Really, I don't think that I am mourning since that would imply that I am sad to see them go, and really.. I'm not.  The steps I am taking now are to ensure that my thirties (and beyond!) are pretty awesome.  I'll be a college graduate a couple of years after I turn thirty and that opens up a world of possibilities.  Really amazing possibilities!  Why would anyone be sad about that?  

I do plan on making my last year of a twenty-somethings count though.  Before I'm just an old fuddy-duddy mom in her thirties!

and speaking of being a mom.. my sweet four year old this morning sang me "haddy bird-day to mommy", told me I was his "best frand", and then gave me Eskimo kisses.  That's a pretty awesome way to start birthday if you ask me!  

tumblr on

A while back I created a Tumblr account to share my emo thoughts the funny things my two boys say.  I filled it  with all the post from my personal Facebook page of the funny musings and conversations that have taken place in our home.

My plan was to, over time, add them here. Honestly though their are just too many without it feeling contrived.  So I thought it would be best to just provide the link to the Tumblr site and as the boys said new funny things to include them in the blog as they happened.  Everyone wins!

So for your viewing and funny bone pleasure a little bs!

blog all about it

I sent my sister an email the other day expressing my joy that I now had enough blog entries to make up two whole pages worth of blog!  She wrote back saying I was in the early stages and still had lots to say!  And she's absolutely right ( maybe I should should un-link her so she won't see that I said she was right about something..I would hate for that to go to her head...)

Since starting the blog every random thought I have I can't help but wonder "can I blog about that?".  Believe me when I tell you that I spare you from all the crazy inter workings of my mind.  How quickly one begins to think like a blogger!  Or over think as may be the case for me.

And as of yesterday I am not longer obligated to keep up my bi-weekly paper column so now I will have even MORE time to write for the blog (kids and school not withstanding).  *evil laugh*

history and color pens

color pen goodess!

What am I doing today you ask...or maybe you didn't..whatever.  I am busy taking history notes today on the Jamestown Settlement (1606...see now you can say you learned something today, or maybe you already knew it..)

While I am busy taking notes on Jamestown I am also trying to entertain S, who is four.  He was plenty entertained for about twenty minutes as the pages I was working on included a photo of an Indian woman with her indigenous ta-ta's on full display.  This was probably the highlight of his morning.  Boys will be boys I guess.

I also wished that I had picked up a pack of assorted color pens yesterday for my note taking adventures this semester.  Not many things in this world are more satisfying to look at than pages of notes in an array of rainbow colors!  Who wants to look at boring old black and blue?  Not this girl I can tell you that much!

I think when I venture out of the house again I am going to pick up a big pack of color pens.  I am going to take this note taking game to a whole new level

school days

This morning marks the first day back school.  My second semester back  in College since taking about a seven  year hiatus.  Life has a funny way of getting in the way of your plans...the life specifically of my seven year old son.

Mind you I wouldn't have traded one single day that I spent away from the college life as I worked at being a mom to both him and subsequently his little brother.  I did however make a promise to myself that when B started Kindergarten I would go back.  Well now he's in first grade and here I am, keeping that promise.

That quote over there happens to be one of my absolute favorites.  I know I still have a long road ahead of me in school since I plan to be a nurse.  I try not to worry about the time it will take to finish school, because as the quote says " The time will pass anyways".  I also try not to worry about the time that has already passed.  It is easy to think of that lost time and lament that had I stayed in school I would already be finished now.  I know this time will pass quickly.  Heck, S will be five this year and I swear it feels like he was just born!  So the next three years should go by in a blink.  Especially when life is broken down into semesters it tends to go by a little bit faster.

My hope is that in three years I will be able to share with you my joy as I graduate...and that I am still keeping up with this blog!

the letter that launched a thousand words

I have always loved writing.  I knew at a pretty early age that I had sort of had a gift ( it ain't braggin' if you got it).

Then this past summer I wrote a little letter to my soon to be graduating six year old.  I shared the letter with my sister, who loved what I had written so much she shared it with a friend of hers.  That friend happens to run a small local news paper in our town and she loved it so much she wanted to publish the letter.  Now granted I had written for the paper at least two times prior to this, but by this point their had been a good five year's since my last published article.

The letter was so well received that the editor offered me a bi-weekly space in the paper. I suddenly discovered that I had more in me to write.  That I was by no means ready to stop there.  A flood gate of words and stories bursting to be told.  And as the blog progresses I will share my other articles!

 Here is the article that launched a thousand words as it ran:

On Wednesday, my oldest son will graduate kindergarten, like countless five year olds before him and after him.  In the grand scheme of things, its really not that big of a deal.  Except for me it is.  At some point in the evening, I'll probably sob my face off.  The good kind of sob where mascara will smear down my face and snot...yeah, they'll probably be a little of that too.  I thought maybe I should explain why…

My letter to Brady:

I was 21 when I had you.  I'd like to say that I was a really mature 21, but, if I’m being honest, I wasn't.  I barely knew how to take care of myself.  I still called my mama to ask her how to wash clothes...but there you were.   Perfect, completely perfect!  We learned a lot that first year, you and me.  Your milestones were a little more monumental  I suppose.  But, when you turned one, your pediatrician suggested we have your hearing tested.  You see, you didn't always want to give me or your dad the time of day.  I figured you were just suborn (a trait that sort of runs in the family.)  So we had your hearing tested; it was fine.  See, stubborn!  A man of few words.  You would speak when you felt darn good and ready and, when you did, the words would be profound!  I mean every mom thinks that, right?

Your doctor wasn't satisfied.  And in those moments before falling asleep each night, my head would race with the what ifs and the why.  So we had you tested.  A super nice lady came in with her toys and books, and you played, and she wrote, and I worried.  A few weeks later we heard back from that nice lady.  She used words like delays and therapy.  I listened, sort of.  All the while, in the back of my mind, I’m thinking "My god, I broke him..."  I think that night I cried so hard I couldn't breathe.  The next few years were filled with therapist and doctor’s visits.  Us trying to crack that shell of your’s.  

Three was a big year for you.  You started school (I cried that day.  I took exactly three steps out of the door, after kissing you goodbye, and cried in the hall way.)  You got a new baby brother, which coincided with two of your first clearly spoken words, "mine" and "Sesh" (your version of Seth.)  It was also the year we finally got an answer on that beautiful little mystery that was your mind.  Autism.  You were Autistic...on the spectrum.  But we were assured that you were " super high functioning."  Well of course you were!  I mean there you were in my arms, completely awesome!  Actually, you probably had a finger up your nose, but we'll overlook that.

So here we are now, in a moment that just a few short years ago we didn't know would be possible.  You've grown leaps and bounds and blown away our expectations.  When those curtains open on the stage, my throat will probably close up.  When I hear your name called to get your kindergarten graduation diploma, my eyes will sting with tears and a few might escape.  I'll save the snot cry for later as not to embarrass you.  In my mind, I'll imagine what you'll look like in 12 years (I hope only 12...) when you walk across the stage again for a different type of diploma.  You rock little man!

The M-G family rules.

how S felt about being reminded to flush

Every now and then in our home we'll find our selves saying something so ( woah alliteration!) off the wall to the children we declare it a "family rule!".

I used to keep a book of said rules, but S (being the rebel he is) decide one day to "damn the man!" and, in a fit of rebellious rage, tore the pages out.

I have been trying to remember some of the rules and here is what I have so far..(in no particular order of importance)

•   No kung fu-ing in the living room!  With two boys ( three if you count their dad..and I do) you get a lot of want-to-be karate masters in the house.  It's all fun and games until someone takes a round house kick to the head.  
• No doing the "robot" before breakfast on a school day!  This makes me sound like a buzz-kill I know, but it is all we can do on a good morning to get out of the door in time for the bus!
•  Don't lick your brother!  This should be self explanatory.  

I know there were more (and would make this more interesting) but I am drawing a huge blank.

But I also hate when I am getting on to the kids and I unintentionally rhyme.  For instance.." you are lucky I am letting you play at all!  I could be making you sit on your bed and stare at the wall!"  ooh so tough.  It's as if I follow the Dr. Seuss guide to parenting.

At the end of the day I want the boys to remember the fun we had in this house, not the rules.

I was like baby..

Ok, I'll spare you and not finish singing that Justin Bieber song.  Unless you want me to..no..okay.  


So I woke up to the Twitter world all abuzz that the Hip Hop power couple Beyonce and Jay Z's new collaborative project dropped.  A bouncing baby girl.  But as I read on I came across a story that stated


 "After 11 p.m., even doctors and nurses were barred from entering the fourth floor, prompting one doc to complain that he had patients to see."


Really...really?!  Congratulations on making EVERY other woman in that hospital feel as if all their hard work was for nothing.  That the children that they conceived, carried, and birthed are less special and undeserving of that level of security (on top of the security measures already in place at many hospitals across the nation!)  Having had two of my own I can a test to the extreme security that takes place.  Baby's first ( and hopefully last) house arrest anklet is one of the first items to be placed on baby right after birth.  A baby lo-jack if you will.  Beyonce might as well have knocked on every door of that labor and delivery floor, poked her head in and said " just so ya'll know, my baby is more special then yours!" and walked out


and to come full circle I'll end this with a funny conversation that took place recently in our home...


S: mama, you sick? (because I was taking a rare break laying on the couch)
me: no..
S:  you gotta fevah?
B:  (to himself) yeah..a fever for Bieber *snicker giggle*

Simple Saturday

Me and the littles have been up since 7:30.  Them willingly, me not so much.  I was raised to believe that Saturday was for sleeping in late.  Somehow both B and S (especially S) seem to hold the believe that the breaking of dawn heralds the day.

Since J is at work today we're going to have ourselves a nice simple Saturday.  Lucky for us it is a beautiful 65 degrees here in Georgia (in January!..which probably means it'll snow next week)

Now if I could just find the motivation to change us all out of our pj's.

can you hear me now?

So this happened today.

So to preface the story-my phone has a bad habit of falling out of my pants pockets constantly.  So to combat this problem I began to stick my phone down into my cleavage (classy right).

 To include a story with in a story..I was on campus one day and had to go potty.  Well as I went to go sit my phone feel out of my pocket, hit the tile floor and proceeded to slide right on under into the handicap stall.  Lucky for me some non-handicapped individual had just walked into said stall and was kind enough to pass it back over to me.  So now my phone was covered in college campus bathroom floor germs.  The phone I often times hold between my teeth when my hands are full.  I probably forgot to clean it.  I am probably now carrying a latent zombie virus.  Sorry guys.

anways... back to today.  The following conversation took place when my oldest son, B, got home from school today. 

Bus driver helper:  is the weather supposed to be nice like this all weekend?

Me:  (pointing to the phone in my shirt that she can't see):  I just talked to J and he said it should be!

Bus driver helper: (giving me a weird look) oh, okay..

It did not dawn on me until much later that I had totally just pointed to my boobs, at an invisible phone, called them J, and commented on the weather.  No wonder she gave me a weird look!

Now, come Monday, I am going to feel completely silly.  

Follow Up

So...this is awkward.

I start a blog and suddenly find myself with writer's block.  So, I figured let us get to know one another shall we.  Maybe if I tell you about who I am, you'll want to stick around, maybe tell  your friends about me.  Or we can be secret friends too...that's cool  whatever.

Me, I'm Lisa.  I write (don't let this fool you).  I don't get paid to write (you're probably not shocked right now, that's okay) And because I don't get paid for my "talent" I am currently enrolled in school.  I hope when I am finished with said school I can be called Nurse Lisa.  That is unless someone, one day, would like to pay me to start writing.  That'd be nice.

I am also a mom.  That's a pretty sweet job.  But that doesn't pay either, unless you count the laughs (and I do).  My two boys happen to be pretty funny.  They are also the namesake of this blog.  BS stands for their names. Clever right!? I'll probably write a lot about the funny stuff they say and do, which means i'll write about them, a lot!

I have a better half.  He's kinda funny too (funny lookin!, ah-cha-cha).  Seriously though, he's pretty cool and he likes to cook, so i'll probably write about him also.  And his food.

So I hope you stick around.  Heck, I hope I stick around for this too! I'll be working on how to make this looks all fancy and bloggy, so bear with me and I think (hope) you'll be happy you did!

Blogger

Well here goes nothing.  A blog.  I'm gonna be one of THOSE people...with a blog.  A blogger (sounds like booger as my son would say).

I'll try not to suck, but I make no promises.