Today kicked my tail.

First day of summer, Tilly up at 5:30 hysterical with a 102 degree fever. In fact, I had to stop writing in the middle of the last sentence because Tilly coughed so hard, she barfed in her bed. Good times….

We made some great things for daddy’s birthday though!

We baked a cake,

Charlie may have had some tastes before we frosted it. But only to make sure it was cool enough.

And made some masterful artwork for daddy’s office.

Thanks pinterest, this time you didn’t steer me wrong.

It’s only the first day, how will I make it? There are so many weeks left!

Just when I thought all was lost, I got an email from awesome and amazing Julie. My savior.

Our daughters share a love of Pocoyo.

Enjoy!

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It doesn’t matter to me that our waitress tonight was an entire drinking aged person younger than you. It also doesn’t matter to me that you said the quintessential old person statement of “Ug, most of the music today is just terrible! How do people listen to this?”

You may turn into a crazy old man, but you’ll be my crazy old man.

You are totally on track with being the “GET OFF MY LAWN!” old man parodies in movies, and I can’t wait for that day. I’ll laugh and shake my head as you shake your rake and shout profanities at the young whipper-snappers skate boarding through our driveway in the late afternoon.

What matters is that you are an awesome daddy. Listening to the kids scream “DADDY!” and flock to you when you come home from work makes my heart happy, and not just because they maul you and leave me alone for five minutes.

What matters is that you are a great husband. Not perfect, mind you but pretty great. I am so glad you aren’t perfect because that would be terribly boring, and it would totally make me look bad.

What matters is that you love your family, not just the three of us but the whole extended mess. You are always the guy to step up and help out any way you can.

You ain’t cool ‘less you ride Dumbo.

What matters is how much we laugh together. There’s no one else I would rather laugh about our fake extra-marital affairs with, get dirty texts from, or get woken up by a choice selection from iFart buzzing in my ear. I think this mornings selection was titled “The Brown Mosquito.” Thanks for that.

What matters is that you are a great friend. Not just to your old friends, but to mine (old and new) too.

So today I would like to wish you a very happy birthday my love. I hope you have a wonderful day and an amazing year. I hope all your dreams come true. Maybe I’ll be lucky enough and you’ll let me come along for the ride.

I love you.

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Ladies, if you are like me, you have no idea how the other gender walk around with those…things. I mean really! Personally, I can’t even wear boy short underpants comfortably – they get all bunchy. But boys! Boys walk around in underpants that are like shorts under their pants, and in addition to the bulky undergarments, they have extra (ahem!) appendages to attend to. No wonder they can’t keep their hands off them, and Americans have so much slang to describe those things. It’s got to be uncomfortable, and they all seem fascinated by their own member.

It starts young, people. Real young.

Yesterday in the car approximately 5 p.m.

I LOVE MY WIENER! And Disney World…but mostly, my wiener.

Charlie: MOM! Besides penis, what are some other words for wiener?

Me: Well, there’s ding-a-ling, wang, dong, pecker, peter, johnson, hot dog, noodle, dingle, dangle and weenis (said in a quickness, that I have to admit, I’m pretty proud of).

Charlie: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Whoa! That’s a lot! I wish my wiener had it’s own name.

Me: It can. If you want to give it a name, you can. It’s your body, you can give any of your parts any name that you’d like.

Charlie: Really!?!? So I can name my wiener?

Me: Sure! If you could name your wiener any name in the world what would you want to name it?

Charlie: (without even a millisecond of thought)  PAT!

Me: Pat?

Charlie: Yes, Pat! It’s perfect!

So Pat it is, my friends.

Is this normal?

If you happen to run into Charlie at school, at the beach, on the street, really anywhere and he says “Hey, you wanna meet my friend Pat?” It’s a trick. Say NO! And perhaps, run away.

This is normal, right? Someone please tell me I’m not raising a deviant. Have your little guys named theirs?

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Today is Tilly’s last day of school, tomorrow is Charlie’s. Summer has slammed down upon me out of nowhere. Here is a little acrostic poem about how I feel about it.

S -Snuck up on me sooner than I expected. It’s not even Memorial Day yet!

U - Unprepared. I am woefully unprepared.

M – Many days (15!) before any summer activities start.

M – My four hours “off” per week are gone. GONE!

E – Endless days of hearing “I’M HOOOOOOOT!” “I’M BOOOOOORED!”

R – Ridiculous amounts of together-ness.

I – Ice cream, popsicles, pool parties & swim suits.

S – Seriously. Me in a swim suit? I don’t think so!

H – Help. Someone! Anyone? Hello…

E – Energy humming through the house constantly. Wreaking havoc. Wrecking my stuff.

R – Reinforcements. I need them. A lot of them. And wine. I need to buy more wine.

E – Endangered sanity. I’m not sure if I am going to make it.

Send help.

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Dear Sweet Nap Time,

Stop being a dick! Seriously!

I thought we were cool, I thought we saw eye to eye. Thought we understood each other.

Apparently I was mistaken.

You’ve been using me. Teasing me. Disrespecting me.

And for these reasons, we need to break up.

Wait! Don’t go!

I love you nap time. Please don’t leave me. What can I do to make you stay?

I can see you inching towards the door while I am on my knees, begging and pleading for you to stay.

Yet, you mock me.

Why?

She doesn’t nap for weeks in her bed, yet falls asleep in the car on the way to swim class every single week, mid corn dog at Disney World, and five minutes before the first leg of our two leg journey ended.

Left: Five minutes before swim class, every. single. week. Middle: Disney World (note the puffy cheek – corn dog) Right: Dallas airport, resting comfortably after being carried for what felt like miles.

Have you ever carried 35 lbs of dead weight along with carry-on bags through a 1/2 mile long airport terminal nap time, have you?

So nap time, are you in or are you out?

I am sick of this namby-pamby shit.

Make up your mind.

Please Stay. I will give you money.

I Love You,

Mommy

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It’s been long said that women “forget” the pain of childbirth and this forgetting is what makes women persevere and choose to go through the entire experience once again. It’s referred to as many things, my personal favorite is “momnesia,” and it’s complete and utter bullshit. It may very well be the biggest, baddest parenting lie out there.  Whether your bundle joined the world through the magic tunnel, or needed some slicing and dicing assistance in order to make it out, no mother forgets.

A mother is able to go forward and do it all again not because she forgot the pain, but because the benefits totally outweigh the pain it took to get you there. Chubby cheeks, little toes, first giggles and steps are what help us decide to go down that road once again, no matter how painful.

Last week I discovered that Disney World has the exact same effect.

There’s something about this place that causes excessive cuteness & postcard perfect moments that get you yearning to go back. Smiling manically.

Three days of over stimulation, late bedtimes, standing in hours of lines, and eating overpriced crappy food, both kids were utterly and completely done.

After three days of carrying kids because they were too tired to walk, listening to whining “BUT I WANT ICE CREAM!”, crying “I DON’T WANNA LEAVE!” and dealing with the deluge of tears that were sure to follow, adults were also done as well. {I realized too late that I should have been video taping all of these little outbursts of misery to make myself a compilation}

Despite the headaches, backache, and the fact that I could barely raise my arms the day after we got back, we’ve already started mentally planning next years trip. Less than 24 hours passed before we started saying things like “When we go back next year, Charlie will be tall enough for Space Mountain!” and we were happy about it.

We caught it. I think it’s some sort of fever. We’ve got Disnesia.

Pop-Pop however, may be a little harder to convince…..

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Sometimes things happen that are just so hilarious, so awesome, and spectacular that they need to be both documented and shared. This is one of those times….

Nick is a wanderer. Don’t misunderstand, Nick doesn’t like wander, wander like with the ladies or anything like that….but if we are out and he spots something he likes (usually something techie) he is immediately drawn to it. I call it the “seeing something shiny syndrome.” It’s innocent, and it drives me mad.

Charlie has the same affliction, and it scares both of us. After temporarily losing him at the zoo earlier in the week, the thought of letting him loose in the Magic Kingdom was terrifying.

To stave off complete paranoia, Nick wrote a little note for Charlie to keep in his pocket with our phone numbers on it in the event that he got separated from us. We told him if he got lost, he should find a Disney Cast Member and give them the note. That person would call us and he would be safe.

Fortunately, we never lost him….well, not for more than a few seconds at a time anyway.

After being patient for most of the day, Tilly was dying to meet the princesses, most specifically Cinderella.

Apparently, Charlie was also delighted to meet the fairy tale princess. Although it would appear that he fancied the princess in a very different way than his little sister did. After telling her “You can invite me to your castle if you want to,” numerous times, and getting only giggled responses, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

OK dude, you got this. Just hand her the digits and stay calm……if I can ever get them out of my pocket.

We all watched in awe, which quickly turned to stifled laughter as we realized that he was doing.

Look cool, look cool. Just wait for her to notice them.

Obviously, if she was too busy to invite him over right then (she was working after all), she could just give him a call and extend an invitation, right? It’s the perfect plan.

Boom! Got her. Now act indifferent. Make her want you.

Man I love that kid.

From Tilly: “Geez guys, get a room….”

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My Sweet Tilly Beans,

Before you get all filled with angst believing I forgot your birthday, or got too busy to get your special letter all ready in time for your birthday, I want you to know it isn’t the case whatsoever. Your letter is four days late, because we were here celebrating your big day.

It’s been another year that I have watched you grow and change, and I couldn’t be more proud of the person you are becoming. Strong, smart and independent. You have strong opinions, and you are not afraid to share them. You are also unafraid to dig your heels in when you don’t want to do something. At the moment, this stubborn streak can be exasperating at times (like when you don’t feel like going to music class at school), but I hope it will come in handy down the road when you are faced with the pressures that come with being a teenager, and say “No” when your gut tells you that something just isn’t right.

Right now, you are a complete mama’s girl. You are happiest when you are with me, and when I say “with me” I mean, on my lap, in my arms or touching me in some way. Holding my hand, touching my leg, or laying your hand on my shoulder, it really doesn’t matter so long as you are in close proximity to me. You even stealthily sneak into mine and daddy’s bed like a ninja more often than not, we’ll wake up in the morning and there you are, right between us. Sometimes your attachment can feel overwhelming and daunting (particularly when I am in the potty), but I know this, like all of your phases, is fleeting and I will miss it terribly when you are sixteen and way too cool to be seen out with your old mom.

I hope you always know how fabulous you are. You can do anything you put your mind to, and be anything you decide to be so long as you are willing to work for it. Nothing worthwhile comes easily, and you my love have the drive and resolve to bust your butt to make all your dreams come true.

I am so excited about what the future holds for you. I know you are going to make it amazing.

I love you,

Mommy

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Ahhhhh……we are on vacation this week. Glorious, sunny Florida visiting Nick’s parents. We made the same trip last year as well, and I am totally jinxing our return trip by putting this in writing, but something magical happened during transit between our house in the burbs of Chicago and the arrival to the Ft. Myers airport. The children – they were (drumroll!) good!

I was scared of the whole airport part, because for the first time since the addition of our spawn we traveled sans stroller.

Here is my nightmare dream sequence:

I’m in the airport, it’s crowded with people who have not showered in days and all deodorant has failed.

I look down and realize I’m naked, except for the 16 carry-on bags I am struggling with.

I look around and Nick is mysteriously missing.

Charlie, drunk with the freedom of not being hindered in the stroller takes off running into the pungent crowd.

Tilly falls and starts wailing.

In the nude I must: collect the little one off the floor, chase the big one, and balance all the carry-on’s.

All the while screaming “NICK! WHERE THE F*** ARE YOU?”

Thank God, nothing even close to that happened.

I remembered to get dressed, so a major element of my nightmare was conquered immediately. In addition to ditching the stroller, I also left the diaper bag behind. Look at that, one less bag for me!

“But Sandee,” you ask. “Where did you pack all the kids shit?”

I made them carry their own shit. Backpacks aren’t just for school! Snacks, shut ‘em up toys, waters and “In case I poo myself” pants each carried by their owner so they could serve themselves and take what they needed when they wanted it.

Why didn’t I start doing this a long time ago?

Then we boarded the plane. Three seconds after the man in front of me sat down, he reclined his seat and kept it there for the entirety of the flight. Thanks man.

The reclining wasn’t a huge deal. It was the leaning forward to mock me and sleep that made me want to shank him.

To balance out the douche, however, more magic happened. Tilly. Fell. Asleep! OK, I do have to be totally honest and say that she was drugged to relieve any pressure issues associated with seasonal allergies (my doctor told me to!), but I didn’t ever think she would fall asleep in such environment. Sweet girl slept for an hour and a half out of a two and a half hour flight. Not bad.

There she is, out cold.

We made it! And now we are here for a well needed, relaxing break from reality. I wouldn’t say that getting there was half the fun, but it definitely wasn’t the absolute suck fest I had anticipated.

Whew.

Dodged that bullet.

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Some of you may remember that a little over a year ago I wrote a post regarding my weight and the need/desire to get myself into shape and out of my fat pants. All of you were so awesomely supportive and helpful, it was amazingly touching. In the beginning, I was good about giving updates and sharing fitness tips that all of you generously shared with me. Then, life got in the way. We moved and our whole lives changed, new work, new house, new school, new friends, new challenges. My goals got kind of shoved onto the back burner.

I picked them up again full steam last November. I am proud to say that since then, I have shed 14 lbs. Can I get a Woot! Woot!?

Left is the end of March, 2012. Right is last night.

Nice and slow, and permanent, and I still have at least 12 lbs left to go but there’s no hurry.  Slow and steady wins the race, right?

Anywho, as I got into shape and the weight started coming off, one thing wasn’t budging. Stretched out pregnant belly skin. Gag! My belly itself has shrunk significantly, but the pregnancy skin became more pronounced. No amount of sit ups, healthy eating or time is going to shrink the skin that those meddling kids wreaked their havoc upon during pregnancy. I’ve tried many creams, and tricks that claim to help restore firmness, but saw little if any results. And I did not want expensive, painful surgery to cut away the stretched out skin.

I was sure I would just have to deal.

Then I found “It Works!” Well, to be more honest I saw an ad and I was extremely skeptical because it sounded too good to be true. I would have never bought it to try on my own. Fortunately for me, a friend had a friend who sold the It Works! products, and I was able to fenangle a free wrap to try in exchange for a blog post.

I had such amazing results from the first wrap that I decided to order a full application (4 wraps) to see what a full round could do for me. I’m addicted. I’ve lost three inches around my waist doing the wraps, and most importantly (to me) my belly skin is tighter, firmer and far softer. It’s not a forever fix like surgery, but a full application of It Works! wraps can keep any trouble area looking great for 2-6 months at a time!

I have hope again. I’ve found something that works.

You should check it out!

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