This time of year

For a lot of people I keep hearing how it's not the most wonderful time of the year. At times I have to agree with them. When I was a child Christmas was filled with wonder and joy. Today I was sitting and thinking what made it so different? The more I thought it wasn't about the presents and we didn't rush about buying things. Instead there was that wonderful anticipation of time together. Of a huge meal that we would share. Ideally after dinner us kids would put on far to many layers in our concern to go sledding. Than we would come in from the cold and eat cookies before we each went home from the big family gathering to our homes. Our trunks weren't full of shiny new presents, instead maybe a bag or two of grandma's cookies and some leftovers so we could have an easy dinner. It wasn't commercial but it was comfortable.

This year I had to make the Christmas Eve run to the grocery store. I knew it would be stressful and hectic. However I expected some peace and good will from all it is almost Christmas after all. Instead I spent my time darting and dodging. Seeing people parked across aisles to call whomever to see what else they needed to load into full shopping carts. Which I get sometimes you forget that one thing but pull to the side and let the rest of us proceed. I heard few pleases or thank yous from people interacting with store clerks. Many of those clerks who happened to be working incredibly hard were apologizing for the time things took when we were mid mad house. Which I would agree is usually my response to people who are looking at me irate. Yet every clerk I dealt with was pleasant and professional still even the most stressed.  Finally we finished in made it to the car and what should appear but a cart parked into the side panel. I get it someone's time was more precious than the time it would of taken to walk the extra 10 feet to the cart return.  It was a relief to gather up the free cart and my own and walk to the return just so I could be done and know no one else would experience such a surprise.

I did my best while I was inside to spread the Christmas cheer. At the service counter since I desperately needed stamps after mailing Christmas card I used my manners, a please, thank you, and yes Merry Christmas to you too. I was told it was just nice to have someone use their manners this time of year. I replied how can I teach my toddler to use his if I don't use mine, every time? Each member of the Winco team I saw on the floor and interacted with was pleasant and festive. Many a staffer had on one or more fun pieces of flair. I don't know if it was policy but they sure seemed to be having enjoying themselves for being at work on Christmas Eve. To the lady who forgot her purse and was a dollar short for Christmas dinner fare. When I say I got you lady I got you. I'm not St Moe (all though it does have a ring) and we aren't rich but tis the season. It's what  I would want someone to do for me if I was looking at putting back part of my holiday fare.

I know this post has become a bit of a ramble but I guess what I am saying is we let ourselves be miserable. We try so hard to cover all the bases that we see glorified we forget the reason for the season. (Wait don't think Moe is going to try and convert you or anything I firmly support everyone's right to be whatever makes them happy with the usual caveats ie no cannibalism etc.)The reason for the season is to gather around with those you love. It's not about opening a stack of presents and gorging until you are  bloated and the gout flares up. Sure indulge a bit. Buy one or two of the things you want. However take a moment too to see what your neighbor (neighbor in the broad metaphorical way too not just the one next door) needs. It doesn't have to be things. It can be a kind word. A donation to the local food pantry. Put away the cart you see rolling in parking lot. Basically just try to be the best person you can be. Let your presence be the present.

Merry Christmas,
Moe 

A letter to mom from the stepmother

Hi there mom,

As a step mom I do get it you never wanted to see this other woman in your kid's and now ex-husband's life. I know when you married that you thought it was once and for all and forever. However that part of life for whatever reason didn't work out let's not continue about who's fault it was or the reasons why. I'm sorry and not sorry because thanks to that I have a wonderful man in my life and bonus children that I didn't have to go into labor for.

Here's the thing I never thought I would be a step mother. I never thought that at times I would be not co-parenting with one person but with at times 2-3. It can be hard and an endurance battle especially when we don't work together. While I do my best to be positive about your parenting choices and I'm sure you do about mine please communicate with us. If I need to go out and buy pads for the teenager it's a lot easier to have a warning text or call  than to be dragged out of bed at midnight. Same goes with prescription drugs trust me I will make sure they travel between our houses no one wants to endure an epic winter of strep throat because someone was worried the antibiotics wouldn't make it back. Trust me them missing a dose or more is only going to escalate our problems.  The same goes with parenting choices like bed time, chores, restrictions etc. If we don't talk I have no idea what is going on besides what the kids say and if you haven't noticed at times they can be pretty opportunistic about what they will claim is allowed at the other parent's house.

Secondly, I don't do things to be deliberately mean or cruel. I am doing my best to help turn them into responsible adults who will launch successfully into the world. So when I tell them something about hygiene practices, dress code, or behavior please support me and I will do the same for you. However what you may feel is appropriate for a 12 year old girl to wear and what I feel is appropriate may differ. Also please let me know correct sizes for bras and underwear while I have been co-parenting with you I am not comfortable with taking the girls to get sized. When we shop they go into the changing room alone. If a dress or jeans or shirt fits they come out and model it.  I will continue being a prude about what they wear until they are the ones who are making the money to purchase the clothing. There are way to many people who objectify young women let's keep them safe.

Thirdly, please be on board and honest with the adult talks. I am going to provide them with the answers I know to be correct. Like the sex and menses talk. I have had to do that now with all three. I get it they were at my house when they got their first periods but a little support would be super. Like reviewing why we wrap the pad. It's all fun and games until my bathroom stinks and cat has a used pad stuck to his fur. The same about hygiene I hate being the one who has to remind the oldest boy that he gets a funk going. I will buy the articles for all of them. As in previous months and years I will even buy a duplicate for your home. Just encourage the use. If you don't need me to make the purchase just communicate.

Oh and school and activities are important. I'm sure you like us feel like a complete idiot when you hear about grades, sporting events, social events, and etc after they have passed. I don't need to be invited to the mommy and me tea but you can bet when the oldest who lives with us has something going on you will be told. All I ask is that if you can show up. If you can't call or text and say something kind or supportive. The same goes for the negative if you ground the girls at your house and it's time for the weekend switch tell us so we can follow the rules. The same when the boy looses privileges for poor grades. If you let him play on the video games all weekend at your house of course he's going to see the double standard.

We are in this together. We can either hate each other for the next 5+ years until all the children are successfully launched into the world or we can smile and repress our feelings in favor a semi functional working relationship.

Sincerely,
The other mother

No more curls

Today, I did the thing I have put off for 22 months. I took Minimonkey and had his hair cut. What's the big deal you might ask? Since he was born I have let him be a long haired wild child. I have at times even braided his flowing locks. Finally though it had to happen.

We took brother to have his hair trimmed so he no longer looked like a hobo. While the Minimonkey was watching the activity in the Barber Shop he announced he was "big boy" and headed to an unoccupied chair. What was a mother to do? Besides of course take the path of least resistance. I could of said no. I could of made him wait and tried to distract him but he decided he was a "big boy".

So I signed him in with the most wonderful badass with a scissors. She took the time to bring him a booster seat and raise the chair. When it became apparent that the cape to keep the hair off his clothing was going to be an issue she didn't insist. Instead she helped him remove it. Snip, snip, snip. All to suddenly my Mini monkey went from having long baby locks to being a boy. She worked with him taking care to encourage his enthusiasm and soothing the fear when she dampened his tresses. As mama I might of worried about him wiggling and losing an ear and the entire time she kept up a witty banter.

So as of today Minimonkey has no more curls. As he says he is a "big boy". This mama however has a bit of an ache in her heart. Hidden in her purse is an envelope a kind barber labeled "Minimonkey's 1st hair cut". I will probably get it put into his memory book in the morning. Tonight, though I took the time to run my fingers through his now short hair and indulge in a cuddle with my boy who is no longer a baby.

#Sunday Confessions Without

There are often things I convince myself to do without. A lot of the time it's things I really don't need. Like a coffee, or lunch out, or a new pair of shoes, the problem is that when I start engaging in that behavior it spirals. I convince myself to do without things I need or I procrastinate the purchase until it's a crisis.

For example I put off buying bras because there happened to be other things that needed to be purchased. Also who wants to take a toddler bra shopping. Oh and there is probably one more wear in this one. Until it's time to get ready to go to work and the underwire has come out of my last bra and I am frustrated and angry. Plus I am desperately figuring out an option to not go to work braless (thank you camisole tanks).

I put off replacing my headset for work. Until of course I am working from home and the cord finally snaps. There is nothing I can do I can't just clock off and be done for the day I have a responsibility to my job and one to my family. So I limp along working off my cell phone (thank heavens we never use all our minutes). The next day I work off the old plastic home phone I keep for emergencies. Again at the end of the day I am angry and frustrated because it's my own fault I am doing without.

I have to figure out the balance of taking care of myself and my needs. Some days that means I don't go without a cup of coffee. Other days it means I just buy the pair of shoes so I have the option besides boots and flip flops.. It hurt my relationship with my family when I go without taking care of myself. The more I do without the more frustrated, angry, and isolated I get. Things explode and implode and it's a mess.  I need to do without the self sabotage and get with the self love.

Captivity #Sunday Confessions

No one ever told me about the sense of captivity I would experience as an adult. I thought as an adult I would be able to eat Snicker's bars for breakfast and break the rules that I found oppressive. That if I wanted to see the dawn in I could. No one told me I would be the one setting a whole new set of rules. That I would be tip toeing through the house to make sure that everyone was tucked in and actually sleeping.  Making sure the rules had been followed and than doling out or dealing with the consequences as necessary.

When your a child you think being the adult is easy. No one tells you are captive to a job, family, bills, and responsibility. You think you just have a credit card or check book and you can solve all your woes with a scrawl or swipe. That moment when you understand you have to earn every dollar that goes into the account. There will be moments when you have to decide if your kids get new winter coats or you get boots that don't have holes in the soles. (That winter the kids got coats, and I learned to wear an extra pair of socks and avoid the puddles.) Before I had children there was the freedom to waste the grocery money on a new outfit or concert tickets. The only person I had to worry about was myself and what was a week of top ramen or oatmeal? Once I had children there was making sure there was a gallon of milk in the refrigerator even though I don't drink it. The truth is they don't really register that there have been times I have said I wasn't hungry because they wanted seconds but I passed them my bowl or plate because they wanted more.

There is the struggle too of parenting with a first wife and being the second wife (don't worry they are divorced no bigamy here). You don't get to rage about your needs not being met. Or a lack of consideration for your needs when she drops them off without an fyi or shoes, or breakfast, or showers. You just do what has to be done and you parent. You try and forgive even when inside your screaming. No matter what the other mother is their mother and when you settled down with your husband her ex husband you took her as part of the package. It's kind of like when you butcher a cow and they send home the organ meat. You don't go digging through the freezer looking for it but when times get hard you look a recipe and you do your best to put something good on the plate.

No one tells you there will be days you want to run away. Of course you don't even if you think about it. This is your family. You chose them to be your people. You are responsible for them. For their safety, their wellness, their happiness, etc. No one tells you the thought of being without them will scare you horribly. How you will adjust. During the night you will be the one who wakes up to the whisper about feeling sick. How you might be exhausted but when they throw up it will probably be on you. That you will be the one who still soiled will change their sheets and blankets, get them showered and fresh pjs, and who will probably let them sleep in your bed so you can finish their laundry and dream of your own shower.  It's just what has to be done.

You might say why don't you run away because this is the captivity I chose. There are happy moments too. Like when you finally get out of the financial rut. When you can pay the rent and buy groceries in the same pay period without having an anxiety attack about over spending and having both bounce. When taking the family out for dinner means a sit down meal and not a bag of buck burgers. The knowledge that they want to spend an extra day or two with you during Summer break because they love you. This being an adult sometimes is a kin to being a caged bird but even though you're caged you sing.

Why I do the dishes

I feel I should start by saying when I am writing this I have always hated doing the dishes. When I was younger I would do anything to avoid drying and putting them away. I would much rather cook than wash or dry.  I would still rather cook than wash the dishes it creates. When I lived alone I used one plate, one bowl, one cup, one knife, one fork well you get the idea. They went into the sink and immediately after got scrubbed and left to dry. Now though I do the dishes and I still don't like it.

So why do I do it if I don't like it:

1. My husband works out of the house a lot. I could leave them for him but with a 60+ hour work week the last thing he needs to do is come home to a house with a sink full of disgusting dishes.
2. The big kids won't wash the dishes. Trust me I have tried everything I know to get them to do them. I even bought them gloves. Tried to show them if you rinse them and put them in the dish washer BOOM done.
3. Minimonkey just doesn't have the height to reach the sink. Someday he will be my little helper but that's not today. He does do a great job putting the silverware away so that's something.
4. It has to be done. I mean the other option is eating off of paper everything.

So even though I don't enjoy it. I do it because it's what a wife and mother does. Sometimes I do rage against the dishes and we spend a week eating off of paper plates but really that's no solution. So I will continue to do what must be done. At least until the Minimonkey can reach the sink.

Smells #Sunday Confessions

I think every mom has had the smells moment. When your child/children smell delicious freshly washed and swaddled. Yet you sniff and sniff still there is a foul aroma in the air. The diaper is clean your sure you've checked once again. You patrol the house inhaling. It's not the garbage, or the sink, or any number of things. In fact the odor seems to be following you through the house.

Finally in an act of shame you sniff your own arm pit. Than you start doing the math when was the last time you took a shower. The math simply can't be right there is no way you could of gone so long without a good scrub. However the a miasma rising from your pits makes it obvious that it has been simply to long. It can't be put off any longer if your going to be worth cuddling the smell has to go.

Of course that means there are two options. One you wait until the husband comes home which seems like is forever from now or two you put down your delicious scented baby. You carry baby and drag his seat to the bathroom door. You make the transition to his chair and buckle him hoping that he doesn't wake until you can complete the cleanse.  He sleeps and you silently dance for joy as you turn on the shower.

This is not an enjoyable shower. This is a shower that will be completed as fast as possible with limited relaxation or joy. All that matters is getting the funk off. The shower curtain has been left open and repeatedly you stick your head out to make sure that baby is sleeping and safe. It's a race to lather, rinse, and don't even think about repeating. A good scrub with the fancy soap you bought thinking you would have time for leisure. Ah that's so much better you now smell fresh. Soft little snores are still coming from baby.

Taking advantage of the sleepiness to self care. Some fresh yoga pants and a clean tank top. A layer of lotion and deodorant. Feeling refreshed and even slightly relaxed. You've made it though another struggle. You smell as sweet as baby and once more ready to snuggle.

Summer Vacation Blues

So we have made it two whole weeks into Summer vacation with The Bigs and we all ready have the Summer Vacation blues. Instead of them indulging in the gorgeous laze everyday I have heard the most dreaded of phrases "I'm bored.". That phrase is like nails on the chalk board for me. Everything goes hazy and I wonder how can you possibly be bored? There are so many things to do.

I admit I let them have a day of boredom. Every time that horrible phrase was spoken I gave them the list of options.  We could read, go for a walk, do a craft, do a chore, and so forth. That day I didn't press them I figured at some point they would opt to do something to save themselves from this most awful boredom. I was wrong. By the end of the day my head wanted to explode. The level of grump was at an 11 on a scale of 10 there was no way this could continue.

By the morning of day two I was prepared for battle no longer would I be quiet and let them decide what to do. We would now get on a schedule and do all the things. So since that morning we have been rather busy.  They have been registered in the Summer Reading Program and every day there is 30 minutes of reading to do. We have 3 meals a day to cook and eat as a family. There are chores that I'm just not going to do myself. I didn't make the mess so I'm, not cleaning it alone any more. We sorted though our wardrobes for anything we had outgrown and bagged it for charity. Every day has had some sort of excersise. We might now be having all the fun but no one has uttered that phrase since.

It's been a challenge to keep going. I admit between the weather which has been rainy and cool. that means I can't just slather us all with sunscreen and head to the pool The construction along the river which has meant now water front walks. The playground being closed for a Summer camp (that I didn't know about or I would of registered them for). It's meant getting creative with indoor play. You would be amazed at the amount of fun a bag of balloons can be. It's meant some days we vaccum a few times. Or even take a walk in the rain. There is something quite soothing though about watching the hours pass.

Two more months till back to school. In that time I am on the epic quest to slay all the boredom. To keep us from falling into the mire of day time television, video games, and dvds. I might not be 100% successful. This may not be the best Summer ever but I am going to do the best I can. Till school starts than I will do a silent Snoopy dance of joy.

Sunday Confessions, At the Doctor

At the doctor's office I always have such high hopes. That I will be seen promptly and treated with kindness and compassion. Often that doesn't happen I end up sitting in the waiting room watching the minutes tick by. Shuffling through the vintage magazines sometimes getting excited that Brad and Jennifer are still together. Finally if I am lucky my name will be called. Than comes the fun.

I understand the doctor having my vitals is important. However I know what my weight and height are. I am chubby or as my doctor kindly notated in my chart obese. No matter how active I am the weight has never come off. I do work out and walk daily. I try to eat right sometimes however I just do eat the fries and ice cream. After years of self loathing about my weight I am finally at a place in my life where I can love myself that means more to me than numbers on a scale.

Next comes more waiting. More vintage magazines or if I am really lucky a tattered Sport's Illustrated. The stress of wondering if I will make it to the next place I need to be because it's now been 20-30minutes of waiting past the start of my appointment and now I am still waiting. On a bad day the nurse pops in to tell you well the doctor just left the house now. At last the knock, knock on the door.

When the doctor comes in and asks is this an emergency appointment. That leads to a whole evaluation of what an emergency is. To me an emergency means that I am dying that it's time to call 911 or crawl to the emergency room. If I have waited and crawled in because of an injury it means that the issue is urgent to me and I want it addressed now. Not over the course of several visits. That when I leave the room we need to have a plan of resolution in place. No hemming and hawing over options. I want to know that we are going to do xyz to fix the issue.

So in the end I hate visiting the doctor's office. I avoid going until issues become urgent instead of doing regular visits because I don't feel that I am advocated for and treated well by my doctor. You might say when don't you find another provider? The truth is I don't because I usually only need treatment about once a year. So taking the time to interview other provider's isn't something I feel necessary. If something changes and I have a chronic condition that I will definitely be doing a Bacheloresque audition of doctors.

In which Moe learns a valuable lesson

So once upon a time Moe thought she was super woman. That she could work full time, go to school full time, be super mom full time, and be the housekeeper too. Than one day Moe broke. It took her some time to realize she can pick up the pieces. However she can't do that while saying I'm not good enough. Or saying I don't think so and so likes/loves/respects me.

Moe learned that she can say I am the prettiest most badass princess in Casa Moe. If I want people to like/love/respect me than I need to do that for myself. Moe also has decided that Moe needs to remember a Mt Dew is not a meal. Its better that Moe eats a bag of French fries than survives on coffee. No matter how busy Moe is she will be exercising daily even if that means taking the stroller to the chocolate shop. She is going to soak up all the sweet vitamin D in the Pacific Northwest even if she turns nut brown.

Why? because Moe deserves to be healthy. Moe deserves to occasionally put her needs first. Even if that means she just takes 15 minutes to hide in the living room after putting the baby to sleep and reading a crap novel (that's right something non educational or informational) even better if it has a heaving bosom on the chest of Fabio (don't judge its Fabio I can't believe anyone could not like Fabio). Or even more hedonistic takes a moment to pee alone without the toddler or the cat watching.
Moe is all right and Moe is good enough.

Sock Monkey

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Once upon a time my relation with my husband wasn't perfect. In fact we had separated and happened to be maintaining alternate addresses. During that time of evaluation my husband liberated the do it yourself sock monkey kit from our closet.

Yes, that sock monkey the one you see MiniMonkey cuddling with almost didn't exist because we weren't able to talk about our problems. So back to our winter of discontent. I was alone and he was alone and monkey was parts to be assembled in a box.

It came to be that he spent a few nights stitching a monkey. While I slept alone and so did he. I don't remember what I did besides work and sleep during those dark days.Come Christmas he brought me a monkey that I would of never made for myself. That was when I knew. Sometimes there is good, there is bad, and there is just ugly moments.

Than there is your toddler demanding and cuddling with the monkey of discontent. Monkey might not be happy but we are. So there is your happy ending.

My family

Some people define family as those people that they share genetic make up with. While I have a fantastic family of people who I am luck enough that fate and time has made it so I share genetic make up with. There is another group of people.

These are the people who have become family. Not because they are related via dna but because they have come into my life and they have stuck. Kind of like when you accidentally step in gum and it becomes an addition to your new sneakers. Is it perfect, no. Is it beautiful, no. However thick/thin/happy/craptastic ugly nastiness there the are.

So as i get older the more I value my family who might not always share dna.  These few these faithful  few this bad of brothers we. (ok Shakespeare quote because I value knowledge that has no acknowledged worth. Add it to the list of things I have wasted time on. ). These are the people who show up when I need them. Who laugh when I try to hard with a joke. Because if I am making a joke than I am ok even if things are falling apart around me.  Those who get that I am not a perfect wife/mother/daughter/friend. Those folks who love me regardless.

This blog is dedicated to those who have stuck by me and encouraged me. We aren't perfect but sometimes a simple check in even though its been a decade or so since we last had shenanigans or snacks. Sometimes its a text, or a phone call out of the blue. It's the affirmation that I am here and you are there but there are the ties that bind.

How grateful am I for these ties. Ties of kinship and ties that have been forged due to shared experiences. I love you all even though I grump and there is distance. I often don't pick up the phone because that's what I do for a living but when I get a message or my phone rings or an email notification pops I feel the love and it feels like home. 

#Sunday Confessions #inthecar

older photo of the Minimonkey looking fabulous in the car seat

In the car is for us means different for us than most people. I don't drive the truth of the matter is I could and probably should. My sister in law asked me the other day why I don't and it's because a long time ago I had a car accident that shock that shook my confidence.  Later I moved to the Portland metro area after many adventures and paying for a vehicle with insurance and parking or being able to afford housing  was a choice I had to make. The choice I made was selfishly being able to afford to live alone and use public transit.

The nice part is in the car means someone else is driving (ie the hubs). That is our big time of the week usually to talk about what is going on. What we need to do and what steps we need take. Sometimes in the car means a trip for togo and eating on the way to/from work. Or it can mean an in van dance party in the drive thru at dutch brothers while they blast their tunes.

Sometimes in the car means leaning over the carseat and nursing. It has also meant pumping and flashing an innocent Jiffy Lube clerk (see previous blog post).

 It has also meant laughter and jokes with the bigs on the way home or to grandma's house. Sometimes its silly stops for ice cream. Or telling fart jokes. Or even just traveling in grump fashion after the end of a long weekend. We do a lot of talking in the car because well its not like we are going anywhere else. The truth is we do a lot in the car and it's ok because at least we are doing it together. 

Take your child to work day

The MiniMonkey ensuring we are working from home not the office.

Working quietly while being photo bombed, damn celebrities popping up in the office.

So yesterday was take your child to work day. While I think that it's great that littles have an opportunity to go to the office and see what mom and dad do to bring in a paycheck. I face a different kind of life. For us its a bigger deal when I don't have to take my child to work because that means its a day off for me and Minimonkey. My boss is amazing since the arrival of his monkeyness I have been able to adjust to a schedule where I work from home during the week and go to the office during the weekend. That means I never pay for daycare. It also means if I am working during the week the Minimonkey is working. So every work from home day is take my child to work day.

What that also means is my home office is designed not for my comfort but for his comfort. In homage to take your child to work day I finally got the dvd player set up (thank you husband). There are multiple nap spaces for him. I constantly have to make sure that I prepare for him to work with me. That means cycling toys and now dvds. Sometimes it means nursing him while taking and dispatching calls. Other times it means laughing and being force fed snacks between calls (Minimonkey is an amazing intern: how many other people get fed snacks like an emperor?). Or it can mean reading him stories a page at a time between calls. Worst case it can mean comforting a small person who wants to be done working and doesn't understand why mommy can't just be done talking to strangers.

So everyday is take my Minimonkey to work day and I am grateful for it. It can be rough. It can mean being a human jungle gym. It can also mean being asked by a doctor if I have a cat or monkey in my office. BUT the best part is Minimonkey has never gone to daycare. He gets to be my unpaid intern (well when I say unpaid I'm not factoring in mom guilt purchases like dvds, new books, toys, etc. anything that will help him be amused enough for mommy to work and him to be entertained and safe). It lets me bring home a paycheck and in his own way he contributes to our success.

Easter

Happy Easter to you all first off.

Once again it's that time of year where I miss having a big family around. A casual family. A comfortable family. Not having to get dressed up with a matching hair bow kind of family. The kind of family where you can all get together for Easter lunch in lounge wear. That it didn't matter so much what we were eating as we were together. True there were some traditions like the now great uncles sharing their Pepsi and Mt Dew. Yet there was never a set menu of ham, lamb, or roast beast. No one argued about who was bringing or making what. Or maybe they did and we just never saw it being children.

I think my happiest Easter memory was sitting with my cousins after dinner and having the post dinner candy feast and comparison. I remember when the Starburst jelly beans were new and same with the Lifesavers brand. Of course you had to try them all and than combine the different flavors. Than of course tell everyone what flavors you had combined and that they had to try it. I still get excited when I see them on the shelf ever year. They are also in the Bigs Easter basket because well tradition and happy memories.

Ok so far this blog post is sounding like a commercial for sugary snacks. What it really boils down to is that we had these really great moments of happy. It wasn't a super extravagant day but it was a good day. We spent it with people that we loved or at least liked and were related to.  A lot of the happiest moments of my childhood I look back and they weren't wearing fancy outfits or eating gourmet food. Instead it is the time spent with family. It's hard to live across the country especially during the holidays. True I do have my own family now and while it's little and good the Minimonkey will never know the joys of being part of the cousin herd because that's not  how our life is. He also has to deal with the fact that his siblings are older and will be leaving the nest while he's still little. It's time to figure out new traditions and be grateful for the memories.

Oh no I neglected you and Easter prep

I know it's been a while since there was a shiny new blog post here. No excuses folks other than life happened. To deal with life I kind of took a vacation from writing anything more pressing than homework and grocery lists. I was lacking the time, energy, and ability at the end of the day to put thoughts into non run on sentences or format them in a logical way. However we are past that period of crazy. Moving forward to spring and summer and next semester.

In other neglected things. I have neglected to find the Mini an Easter plush bunny. When I was little it was the highlight of the basket (besides the candy). It seemed like there was always something perfect about the bunny each year. If it was just the color or shape or even a unique ribbon it was always special. Now I have reached almost zero hour. Where shipping is extremely expensive and not really an option. I have combed the shelves and still nothing. I thought I found THE BUNNY but it was too small. I thought I found another but it was too fancy. I want to find something that is more than just adequate when really what does it matter? He will be just as happy with a good enough bunny for years to come and doesn't need to know how many didn't make the cut and led to mommy feeling inadequate as a toy selector.

I am not Mrs Cleaver

I have to admit even though it wasn't my home life I always thought being a good mom meant that you were like Mrs. Cleaver or those other 1950's television housewives. You know the stereotype I mean. Where mom is at home all day, she cooks, she cleans, she looks effortlessly put together even when the kiddo gets caught sneaking in the middle of the night. She has her husband a cocktail and his slippers ready when he comes walking through the door. We never see her have a melt down or shot tequila out of the bottle because she is burn out and just can't handle it. No she is the picture of perfect wife and mother.

That standard of mothering perfection is something I am no longer going to hold myself up to. Will the house be kept clean, yes! However we live here. We are home a lot because it's also my office for 4 days of the week. That means there may be plates in the sink, the rug might need a vacuum, and sometimes the house might even look like I have gone with a shabby chic ozian winged monkey attack theme. It's ok that doesn't make me a bad mother that makes me a mother who needs to clean and who could maybe use some help.

Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks! They happen it's true. However they might not always be perfect multicourse meal. Some nights they could be salad, main, and desert offerings. Other nights it could be pizza out of a box or chicken out of a bucket. It's a good thing I am just snobby/lazy enough to get the organics to you produce box delivered so even if I am a horrible mother we can ward off scurvy with some fruit and vegetables. End of the day I have still gotten everyone fed. Why can't we just call that a win even if it wasn't a 100% organic free range dinner.

My life is not the life of a 1950's housewife so the standard can't be the same. I work outside of the home, I am a student, as well as wife and mother. If I could put the 80 some hours a week I spend on those pursuits into home making than maybe my husband would have me meeting him at the door with a perfectly shaken martini and his slippers. The truth is though the hubs is a perfectly capable human being who could shake his own damn martini if he wanted one. If anyone needs me I will be out lowering the bar for mothers everywhere.

#Sunday Confessions # Never Again will I say diet

Never again, that's a great phrase to get yourself into a lot of trouble with. We have all said I will never do x again and often we repeat the behavior.  I have spent years thinking if I just found the right diet, or pill, or plan than I would be the perfect size. The jeans from the back of my closet would fit. That dress that didn't quite fit but was on clearance that I bought anyway. Those are getting purged. I will never again say the dirty d word diet.

I realized if I can't love myself what type of example am I setting for the children. I don't need them saying if only I lost 5lbs. If only I was a size small instead of medium. It was horrible having the discussion with them that a scoop of ice cream won't make you fat. That sitting down with the entire bucket and spoon however is a good way to develop a problem. That there is a difference between a serving and a binge. How to make healthy choices versus reaching for the bag of chips. To identify eating out of hunger or out of emotion or boredom or even just gluttony.

So I will never again say diet. I will also never say that I have the healthiest of eating behaviors.  I do try to make sure that during the course of the day that I eat fruit, vegetables, whole grains but I also have a taste for the "junk".  I am doing much better now though than I did for years I no longer eat the secret family sized bag of Skittles and dispose of the wrapper. Will I ever be a size small. No but that's ok. I have found peace with being a size large or  extra large  or depending on cut some times even an extra extra large and eating the occasional cheeseburger.

#Sunday Confessions Celebrate

This last year or so has taught me to celebrate the everyday. There is no point in hoarding the good china, the nice bottle of wine, or saving a restaurant for a special occasion. We need to not wait and hope that something is good enough to celebrate. We need to make the celebration happen. Or else someday our people will be cleaning out our things and will wonder why we never used the good china or drank the bottle of wine (all though that may make the cleaning more joyous). There is always an excuse to not make a reservation and go out. Instead make a reason to. It's ok to celebrate the silly.

True if we use the nice things they might get worn out or break, the bottle might run dry but we also will be making memories. We will have the ability to look back and say remember when we drank the in case of celebration champagne because there was champagne and we were together. That we ate dinner off the good plates because we could. That time we went to dinner at the frufru place just because we could.  Those memories are worth more than saying we should someday.

So in the morning I will have my coffee cup toast with the toddler. Later I may even have a cookie or a piece of chocolate. We will laugh about something silly or maybe blow bubbles in the house. To celebrate that we have made it to another day, or we had chocolate, or that toasting is ridiculous fun and fancy

Wisdom from my toddler

So in the last few months my little guy has taught me a few things. Things that may seem kind of trivial but are worth the moments to jot down. So your dose of wisdom from the Minimonkey

That's the closest picture I had to him looking all serious and intent. are you ready?

 

 

1. Smile. Even if it's for no reason, even if you don't know the person you are passing. Even if you aren't necessarily in a very happy mood (read that as pissed of and teething) because they will probably smile back at you.
2. Share. (Or as he prefers forcefully shove tasty morsels in other people's mouths. It delicious and they need to try it).
3. Do something that scares you. Even if it has ended poorly before (be it running down the hallway or petting the kitty) get back on the horse and ride.
4. Some days its ok to not wear pants or socks. Just do so in the privacy of your own home. When in doubt the answer is semi casual sweat suits no one knows they double as pajamas. Worst case keep it classy in the footy pajamas people might judge you but your warm and cozy so its adorable.
5. Hide treats from yourself. You will be stoked when you rediscover that tube of M&Ms. Nothing is truly horrible when you have found your stash. 

It's the worst day since yesterday

It's been a rough week for since Valentine's Day, that is when we discovered what I term our kidnap van (ie. the kid hauler) had decided to die during the freak snow storm. So that is in the shop and the bill is only slightly more than I had expected (read that as double) but this is the shop that the AAA mechanic was all gung ho about rather than the shop the hubs was going to take it to (I hope he gets a commission) but at least its getting fixed and we can pay the bill without going into debt.

I took Mini for a walk on Wednesday and it went from sunny to rainy to hail within the time we walked home from grabbing lunch and a few groceries. He let me know with all of his rage how unacceptable this was. Not only did he get wet but that night the hubs asked if he had spilled juice on the stroller since it was still drying out. The plus note is we did make it home safe and with only slightly chilled Chinese food.

I submitted the wrong paper to my professor on Sunday too. Thank heavens she was kind enough to resubmit the assignment I had completed and grad it as if I had turned it in correctly. Otherwise I would of dropped an entire letter grade and I was feeling pretty good about having A's in all my classes.

So where we are is nothing has broke us yet but it's been a rough week. We could use a cookie and a cuddle. Maybe a sofa fort and someone to tell us when it's safe to come out again.

A Toddler's Guide to Valentine's Day gifts for mom

Mini man here, I have hijacked the blog to discuss what moms really want for Valentine's Day. How do I know you ask? Well I do spend everyday with this lady so I like to think that I am in the know. This is only a guide every mom is different and should be treated like a unique and delicate flower.

Get her the fancy travel mug. She might not like it at first but she does hang out with me all day and I like to drop things in her coffee mug. If she has a travel mug with a lid not only is it safety first keeping me out of the mug it also keeps her safe from any surprises. Oh and if your wondering why the remote is sticky its cause I dunked it in her morning coffee today while she was making me breakfast. You could also stick some cliché flowers into this travel mug and make it serve double duty. I don't really see the point in flowers because I can't eat them but you know its apparently a popular option.

Chocolate. Ideally lots and if not lots get her the good stuff. If you want to do fantastic and you're local sneak into Enchante (no they did not sponsor this post in any way, mom just takes me there for wonderful treats when I have been exceptional here are their Facebook details https://www.facebook.com/pages/Enchante/155994854459916). They make delicious chocolates and popcorn in house and they have items with in every budget. I am partial to whatever little bites I can get and have been known to sneak the dark chocolate covered sea salt chocolates. They have a huge case of truffles and dreamy dipped items. If in doubt ask the staff they probably have even better ideas than me or just get the giant S'more.

Reading material. As I am limited to online shopping or where I can get to by stroller may I recommend a graphic novel or two? First off there are pictures so I can look over her shoulder and be amused. Secondly its not something that will require lots of focus for massive enjoyment and she can put it down quickly when I need mommy. The best ones have plot twists that include drama, suspense, and sometimes even a love story (ick). If you need help just go see the nice folks at #TFAW Milwaukie or visit their website (www.tfaw.com) they have live chat assistance. You could also get her a gift card to Powell's but requires her to have time to shop on the internet or a special trip so think local.

Nap time. It's free and it will make her happy. If you want to be super make the bed with clean sheets before hand and give her the fluffy blanket. She's always much more awesome rested and than I can stay up and party all night without her being sleep deprived morning mama.

Dinner at home. Don't make mommy deal with the pressure of reservations and fitting into a perfect outfit.  Bring the food to mommy so she can dine in comfort and I can pick the best bits off her plate. Extra points if you bring home something we can eat out of the to-go container that is still fancy. Or if you still want points I will show you how to hack her www.d-dish.com account you can order almost anything and they will do the driving and bring the food to the door.

Things not buy my mommy.

• Dangly earrings, I like to grab at things and explore. It's an invitation for a mommy owie.
• Lingerie, one of me is enough mister. Plus she hasn't shaved her legs in months.
• Power tools, she's clumsy.
• Cleaning supplies, I make the messes she cleans them up. There is no romance in cleaning supplies.
• Plants, kitty and I are enough for her to keep alive and nurtured. Plus kitty tends to push them off the shelf.

Well that's my toddler gift guide to Valentine's day. I should repeat no one paid to be listed. If they had I would of made mom do the writing while I reaped the spoils.  We have no qualms with doing sponsored posts this just wasn't one.

#Sunday Confessions, In my closet

This week's #Sunday Confession

In my closet there is a perfect pair of strappy black stilettos. They are no longer beautiful but I can't bring myself to bin them.

When I bought them it was almost 7 years ago on a shopping expedition with the hubs before he was the hubs. He and I found clearance rack and they were on it. In my  jumbo size and on clearance for only $3.99. I bought other shoes that day and it was also the day I knew the hubs was the one because I bought a few other pairs of heels that were all the same shoe but in different colors. There is something to be said about a man who doesn't question why I need the same shoe in different colors.

I have worn them a bit ragged at this point there are a few scuffs,  the heels are also a bit wobbly, and  the buckle for the ankle strap is loose. I have risked what I worry every time to be the last more times just because these are the shoes that make me feel powerful and beautiful. They have gotten me through fat days, stressful days, lazy days ( I have found people think you put in effort if you wear sexy shoes and they are just as easy to slide on as slippers), and days when I felt like I was queen of the world.

I know it's time to say good bye and they have more than earned their keep. I do need to replace them before I have an accident and its a forced goodbye and a trip to the trash. Maybe I will just hide them even further in the back of my closet. For a little while longer. I'm just not ready yet. I have lustfully bookmarked more expensive replacement shoes and I think I better order. Unless there is a magical shoe company that wants to barter with a broke blogger?

My Winter Husband

February is often the worst month for us economically its also generally the most love dovey month for us. Not because of Valentine's Day or it being our wedding anniversary. February is  the month I get what I call the my winter husband. It is the time of year his work is slower and so he doesn't always work full days. Which while it can strain the wallet is nice because we get some much needed time together.

At first I will try to find things we need to do. Generally the first week or two I will find errands and other odds and ends that I have been putting off. Eventually those run out. It's time for us to be home. Its now that I get to reap the benefits. This week I managed to take a nap and study with out being the Mini's jungle gym. We have been able to trade off tasks like dishes, laundry and who cooks dinner. It's a lull in our cycle and a time for us to regroup and maybe watch some bad television. It's a nice reminder of why we love each other even though our schedules are so catawampus.

Tonight's one of those winter nights though were he is not home. I am not sure where the delivery took them but now snowy roads mean I don't know when he will be home tonight. It means making dinner and waiting for the phone to ring or to hear his key in lock. It means being patient and waiting. Plans to make a trip out for dinner and diapers are being postponed. I know we need the money but on nights like this it would be nice if he was home or worked a set schedule.

So I am off to think happy thoughts about my winter husband because all to soon it will be time for summer husband. Where he is working all the hours and I wonder if I am going to see he him before bed time. Our wallets will be fatter but we won't have as much together time. Nor will we be as happy.

Sunday Confessions : Aging

I have to say I think I might be in denial since I saw my first grey hair all those years ago until today. This year we once again celebrated the anniversary of my 21st birthday. I have embraced the stigma of growing older to much. Its just that I am not ready to say I am ready for cardigans and khakis. Deep down I still feel young. Maybe not 16 and able to run a 6 minute mile but I don't feel almost 30. 

I have to admit 21 was a good year for me it was the year I met the hubs and we moved in together. It was the first year I felt ok with my weight, height, hair color. Everything in my life had finally came together. 27 was another good year for me I had Mini man and got married. I also got down to a weight I was ok with post baby and I started working out again. There's something to be said about taking baby for walks getting a stroller and baby up and down a flight of steps gets the blood pumping.

So aging at 28 I have taken a new attack on the grey with bleach bottle blond goodness. I do worry that it is getting a little to Targaryen dragon princess but at least no one can see my shame. I am down to size smaller than when I met the hubs. The truth is I don't feel like I am getting older so maybe I am aging into something better?

Happiness can be simple

Last week I was reminded that happiness can be simple. It doesn't have to be expensive it doesn't even have to cost anything at all. It can be found in just a moment of zen. A moment when you forget that you have papers due and you haven't been out for a walk yet this week. The house is a mess and you still need to go back to work for the day. Happiness can be found in the moment a little person insists upon their right to cuddle in your arms. That for now nothing is more important than being mom.

Does it solve all the problems? I wish it could. I would just crawl back into bed and take the toddler with me. We would curl up and watch Sesame Street and that would be enough at least until we got hungry or I had to pee. Instead I still have papers to write this week, mid terms to take, work, laundry and a lot of other things to do but we are going to make sure we take our time.

Time for a cuddle. Time for a walk. Time for comics, a coffee and cookie date. You know the important things that don't sound important but make for the happy. I need more happy and it's right in front of me.

Sunday Confessions: Reconcile

Reconcile: to cause to submit to or accept something unpleasant.

I have reached the point where I have reconciled with the fact I don't fit in with my sister in laws and brother in laws. Does it bother me, yes. Do I wish it was otherwise, yes. Am I going to wallow in self pity that we aren't friends and I don't think they like me very much, no. I am moving on.

Growing up I had the big family where everyone got together for holidays, weekends, and for no reason that we hadn't seen each other in a while. My in laws do a biweekly dinner that I often miss do to my work schedule. Even so I have never felt the same casual comfort with my sister in law and sister in law to be. I have tried to wave the olive branch by offering facebook friendship,  coffee, and referrals for pampering parties. That has been meet with limited success. Does it make me sad yes, but again I am no longer dwelling. My son may never know the joy of hanging out with cousins for the sake of why not, or we just got a new dvd lets make it a party but we do have other wonderful people in our lives.

People who are available when I need someone to have a have a cup of coffee with. Or watch the Miniman for a few hours. Or show up when I get talked into hosting a pampering party. Attend my wedding (well let's not do that again). You get the idea I may not of gained sisters with marriage but I have gained "sisters" through work, "sisters" through the internet," sisters" though Oregon. I love you ladies and I am so reconciled to your being the family I get to choose.

My son watches princess movies

 

and guess what it's ok. The girls have also watched their fair share of boyish movies but that's not the point. The point is that its ok that he is enjoying movies with songs, dance, and learning classic stories. Are the tales the same as the Brother's Grimms?, no they are a cleaner, edited, more pc and cuddly version. He is learning other lessons too like to be brave, to not talk to strangers, to ask for help, to be adventurous, to stand up for others, that sometimes bad things happen, plus so much more. Not to mention that a cool animal sidekick or some talking dishware can take you a long way. (Now if someone can find me a happy little bluebird to do the dishes? Maybe call Disney?)

 

You might say but he's a BOY, its ok he is also 13 months. I promise I am not traumatizing him. Right now its about soothing soundtrack, bright colors, and a story line that mommy hasn't a million times since his sister's out grew the dvds. I am refusing to have him grow up and say I can't watch this, its for girls. Movies are for all ages and genders to enjoy.  (Also before someone runs out screaming about screen time, he really maybe watches a 90 minute dvd once a week. Give or take the nap he usually takes part of the way through.)

 

 

Now if anyone needs me, we need to check the mail to see if Mulan has arrived yet.

Being a student is hard and death sucks

This has been my first week back to school as an adult. It was also the week we lost my last grandpa and Mini's great grandpa. There was a lot of stress and decisions to be made. Let's never do a week like this again. It's hard to say I don't have the ability to go be a functional family member right now. Not just because of financial reasons, but because I have to prioritize being a good mother, employee and student. Would I loved to have been able to go and pay my respects, yes. Would it have caused other things to spin out of control yes.

Grieving is hard as a parent especially when you don't really have an outlet. Skipping the funeral and having a child to young to understand death made things interesting. Day to day operations at Casa Moe had to continue. I also needed to still go to my classes, submit my homework. There were hours to be worked at the money job too. Things had to continue and yet there is a loss.

I'm not ready to move on just yet and delete the last text messages from my phone. In time yes and probably before my next upgrade. Just not now. I need time to process. There are quite a few times that I take a picture or a video clip and get ready to send it and I'm not able to.

*** I started this post 9 days ago and I am going to publish it as it is now. I need to go back to posting weekly. So that is something I will have to factor into my weekly agenda. Right now I have read all the chapters I need to for the week and maybe I have had to much coffee. Thank you for putting up with my erratic posting schedule right. It should get better soon****

Sometimes you just need to feel like a Bad Bitch

***Disclaimer*** This was indeed a sponsored post, however the thoughts and opinions are my own. Secondly if I didn't like and believe in the product I wouldn't of jumped on the band wagon to help promote her.

These two beauties are Cupid's Kiss and Cupid's Arrow from Bad Bitch Polish's line of Valentine's Day polishes. First off the colors are amazing I wasn't sure at first about the solid pink aka Cupid's Arrow my nails are generally something pretty non girly and sexy. However this pink is bright, vivid and fun. It also made me want to slip on a pair of peep toed stilettos and saunter through the house reveling in my prettiness. Than with an  top coat of Cupid's kiss they popped. I have to apologize my Mini man was dancing on my toes so there are some smudges that are unrelated to the product.

Also while I was painting my toes the Mini man was quite upset that he didn't get to be in touch with his inner Bad Bitch.  So he is modeling Cupid's Arrow for you. Before you freak out about my painting his little nails and let me add the reason I felt safe and comfortable is this polish is 3 free, cruelty free, vegan, it's also hand mixed and made in the United States. I felt very confident in the safety of this product even on my youngest. Plus it made him happy.

I was also sent the most amazing orange color called Orange Fizz. I didn't get a fabulous photo when it was on my toes so I am borrowing her store image for it. This orange is also not a normal color for me but it is amazing like a trip to the soda fountain for your nails. It's bright, its glittery, and you just feel fun and confident wearing it. I can not praise this product enough.

See that's what beautiful professional nails look like when done in Bad Bitch Polish sleek and sexy. Another highlight of the brand is tucked in with your order is a little instruction sheet of how to get similar results on your own. I have never before in my life had someone tell me how to put on nail polish but the truth is her directions work (until you have a toddler dance on your toes). It's also a great way to treat yourself affordably with these products. At only $8.00 a bottle you are getting something of quality that is HAND made. That to me means with love and with care.

So the important details. Where can you find the wonderful joy for yourself? By simply visiting:
www.badbitchpolish.com you can also follow on Facebook at www.facebook.com/bbpolish.

   

New Year, new me? Nah I don't think so.

I have to admit while I like the idea of the New Year's resolution I also like watching people fail at them. I know it's kind of awful but I can't help it. While I would love to say this year I am going to lose 50lbs, join a gym, read the complete works of Shakespeare, actually use one of those word a day calendars, learn a new language, and etc. The truth is my resolution for this year is to just keep doing what I am doing. If I manage to cross off things from my actual to do list you'll hear about them but there will be no loud proclamation of I shall, I can. No I am keeping quiet until I can say I did.

There are many things I would love to say I am doing but the truth is. I do a lot. Being a mom is a full time commitment, so is being a wife, an employee, and a student. A lot of the time it doesn't leave a whole lot of time for me to be me. A good week can include my taking the extra 5-10 minutes in the shower to destubble the legs and if its a very decadent week use a face mask, foot treatment, or body scrub. A great week means I made it out of yoga pants and put on make up for something other than the days of work that I actually interact with people. Again this doesn't always happen. Sometimes I do pad into work in a tshirt, yoga pants, and flip flops. I'm not real proud but the truth is the odds of that changing this year are no greater than it changing in years past.

I refuse to set myself up for failure anymore. What happens is what happens. If I loose another pants size this year great (someone had better take me shopping than because this online method isn't always so flattering, if I manage to read a classic go me if I don't still go me because I read something other than a text book. If the house stays reasonably clean and a homemade dinner makes it on the table over 75% of the time well than I am just a domestic goddess and offerings should be left. I am not resolving to make any changes but I am resolving to love me. To be kind to myself. No New Year new me. New Year same me I am good enough, you are too. Let's make 2014 our year people!