Six.

Six years ago today I made the best decision EVER.

 

I married this guy.

 

And I am so, so lucky that he is my husband and baby daddy.

Here is to six more.

Advertisements

It’s possible…

It is possible that this last birthday has thrown me for a loop a bit more than I’d care to admit. Well, not so much MY birthday, but Sister Dub’s has just pushed me right over the edge. Some how her joining me at, shall we say, a certain age has made it really real. Because my own birthday wasn’t enough.

The fact of the matter is that at this age I am totally, really, and truly an adult.  One would think the marriage and the two beautiful children might have driven that point home, but nope.

It’s possible that at this certain age I may have had a little pre-mid-life crisis and gone blond. Ish. Blondish. It’s a word, spell check says so.

And you know what? I dig it! I’m going to stay blondish for a while. It’s just hair, right? And for now it makes me feel sparkly and happy…which is how I feel on the inside and how I want to look on the outside. I don’t know about you guys, but I swear on a stack of Seventeen Magazines that I was just 17 myself. But then my junior bridesmaid goes ahead and turns 18 this week. Eighteen. WTH? I still feel about 22…albeit smarter (let’s hope) so how do I go about making the outside match the inside without channeling Amy Poehler in Mean Girls and more like, just Amy Poehler? Because Amy Poehler kicks ass.

So yeah I feel and want to look happy, youthful, and sparkly but not…delusional. I’m not Forever 21 (although hello? I do get certain things there) but I am not Chicos yet. Ever. Whatever.

Yeah. So Blondish. It is happening people. And it’s fun.

 

(p.s. I’m wearing Stella and Dot necklace and earrings. I’m having an on-line trunk show and you should get some. Because they are awesome, I am rapidly becoming a Stella and Dot hoarder.)

Monday Morning 9:37 am

After a long, and contentious discussion with The Boss about how we do not wear our pajamas to pre-school even if they are comfortable, I finally managed to get him dressed. And then promptly drove him to preschool. In my PJ’s. Well played Monday, well played.

Huck is working on all four incisors and two molars at once. Teething. The great baby design flaw.

Dear Monday, I’ll have a Super Big Gulp sized cocaine latte with an add shot of speed. And two Splendas please.Is there an app for that?

Monday? I cry UNCLE! I just want to snuggle in bed and watch Love Actually.

Oh yeah, I have kids. And they need, like, attention and food and stuff.

Crack latte it is! How was your weekend?

 

More proof I need to get off my lazy butt.

Earlier today, just as I was contemplating how I needed to blog and how on earth a week could have passed so quickly…when I got a text message from a certain girlfriend, who shall remain nameless. It said simply: I pinned something for you.

And pin she did.

Chin exercises. As in; got a saggy chin? Tighten it up with these exercises! Now, I can’t say I was offended by such a pin. She and I had just been discussing how the skin under our neck was, shall we say, a little less tight than it was earlier in life? If I am being honest,  I’ve never had a strong jaw line and learned early in theatre make up to give myself a bit of help. This never bothered me too much, but as is the case with the lines on my forehead that have been there since high school; suddenly they bug me a lot. Truvvy said “Time marches on and eventually you realize it’s walking all over your face.” Time? Suddenly is a freaking marching band on my face.

So anyway, you know I re-pinned that good old chin excercise guide and gave it a shot. 20 seconds of leaning your head back and jutting your chin to the ceiling, how hard could it be? Oh tip your head all the way back and make exaggerated kissy faces at the sky? If it tightens my ‘waddle’ you got it, pinterest! Guess what? After the end of the three minutes of intensive chin cardio, I was winded.

As in OUT OF BREATH.

Clearly, I need to exercise more. And I am contemplating just such a new commitment right now as I blog and drink a mocha. Cause that’s how I roll.

In other news, Thanksgiving rocked in Ohio with the cousins and they even let me drag them out for a little photo shoot. You will now be forced to look at said pictures of said little cousins. Enjoy.

(perhaps you’re wondering “where is Huckleberry??” Well, he was sick so we kept him at home. I knew it was the right thing, but I felt SO guilty anyway. Especially when we all got hot cocoa. Mine had Bailey’s in it. Boss’ did not.)

What did you do for thanksgiving? Was it glorious? I adore Thanksgiving because it has always been a great holiday for me. From Orphan Thanksgivings in LA to being a part of my husband’s huge extended family celebration, I adore it. And every year it gets better…more kids playing, more family members added. I am, as always, thankful on Thanksgving.

Do you have a favorite child?

Do you have a favorite child? I do not…although I ponder this question whenever it pops up with an earnest contemplation. I love them both with an insane passion…differently, but an equal amount.

Huckleberry is my baby. He is spun sugar sweet. He has two speeds: angel baby and the rarely seen demon baby. There is nothing in between. He yells GO GO! When he drives his cars. He says ” ME ah ME!” when he wants you to give him soemthing. He does the cutest little booty dance whenever he hears the theme to Thomas The Tank Engine. I also do a little dance when I hear that song; it looks a bit like I am sticking an ice pick in my ear but whatever. Huck never met a hat he didn’t like and loves nothing more than a good accessory. Whatever the costume of the day is, he needs all the accoutrements. Hopefully when he really starts talking he will tell me where he put my brand new watch!

And The Boss? Well, he is too smart for his own good. Or rather, MY good. He calls going barefoot ‘being Brittney” he says “Mommy the toes are the basement of the body and the boobs are the family room!” Once during an epic battle of wills he pointed at me and said in a still, quiet voice “you have been warned.” It’s all baseball all the time these days. I miss the days of constant Green Day concerts, but I love hearing him call out I AM THE BEST HITTER IN LITTLE LEAGUE! He asks constantly when his little league will start. At the end of the day,  he snuggles close to me and falls asleep pressing his little body againt mine. I frequently forget how little he really is…

And oh! How they love each other! They are my breath and heartbeat.

So no, I do not have a favorite child. I do however, have a favorite eyebrow. It’s the right one. The left one can feck right off.

Me and Lady MacBeth are exactly alike about washing our hands.

I’ve beent thinking a lot about Lady MacBeth, specifically Act 5 scene 1, the famous out, out damn spot! scene which finds our Lady distraught to the point of sleepwalking through the castle and imaginarily washing her hands. I’m awake of course, and far less distraught, but I find myself washing my hands a great deal lately and yet they are never clean.

 Lady M.:  Here’s the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh! oh! oh!

Me: Here’s the smell of poop still: all the perfumes of Bath and Body Works Peach Bellini antibacterial soap will not sweeten this little hand. Oh! oh! oh! 

Lady MacBeth had phantom blood and I have phantom poop smell.

See, I have two boys and while they are clean and bathe daily, and they themselves smell of Burt’s Bees and fresh air, it is my little hands that most often wipe their bottoms. Their hands remain free from the clinging, lingering scent of poop. Primarily it is the tiny centurion who is at fault. I could more easily diaper a greased piglet than put clean pants on the Huckleberry. Yet I am skilled…I never actually get the poop on my hands, mind you! I believe it is indeed, all in my mind.

 

And so I wash. And wash. I scrub with a nail brush. I use antibacterial wipes. And yet as I go to brush my slowly growing out bangs from my eyes I smell it, the faint smell of Hucklepoop.

Out. Out damn spot.

Perhaps I am having a mental breakdown about poop. Like Lady MacBeth was about spilling King Duncan’s blood. Alas, no poop has been spilled.

My husband says he can’t smell it, oh yeah you know I made him check. What a good man! I know my hands are completely poop free but I won’t be insulted if we ever meet and you don’t shake my hand, though I promise they are clean. So clean. Scrubbed raw and red and yet….

 Lady M. … What! will these hands ne’er be clean?

Why I am a Democrat.

The election is over and Barack Obama has been reelected. I won’t lie, I breathed a huge sigh of relief. Thank God.

But today it was brought home to me how perhaps we have begun to classify, wrongly I hope, people in both parties. Overwhelmingly today I read that Republicans were racists who hated poor people and that Democrats are lazy and just want a hand out. I know several republicans, and they aren’t racist. I myself am a proud democrat and I am not lazy or looking for a hand out.  And so, not that you asked, I give you why I am a democrat.

First and foremost I am a democrat because I want to help others, not because I want help. I am happy to pay my taxes and happy to help others. I LOVE that we all pour our money into one great pot to take care of one another. That brings me closer to you. If you do well, I do well. If I do well, you do well. I’m thrilled to pay taxes that go to schools, roads, fire and police departments and yes…defense.

There is a misnomer in this country that you cannot be a liberal and a Patriot and I am here to tell you that is simply false. I love my country fiercely. I am grateful every single day to have been born in this great country.

We democrats, we work, we pay our taxes. We believe in God or not, we believe you have the right to believe in God…or not. We believe in family. We believe in country. We believe in lifting ourselves up by our bootstraps AND also reaching down to help someone else to do the same. We believe that a woman should have control of her own body. We believe that all rape is forcible. We believe in equal pay for equal work. We believe that old adage “give a man a fish and he’ll eat for a day, teach a man to fish and he’ll eat for a lifetime.” We believe that in order for a country as large and varied as ours to thrive we need a frame-work to exist within and that frame-work is government. We believe the government should protect all citizens. We believe the government should stay out of our bedrooms. We believe that as we move forward so must our government. That DOES NOT mean we hate the constitution, think it’s merely a suggestion or wish to destroy it. We love the Constitution.

Now for me, myself; I do believe in welfare and food stamps. I believe it needs to be reformed, it’s outdated and no longer fits the needs of those who need it. I believe there is a certain standard of living all American’s should have, no child should go hungry or unclothed and I am willing to pay into a fund that helps families with nothing have just enough that they can focus on getting out of needing it. They can focus on getting jobs, education. I believe that education is what breaks the cycle of poverty.

Of course there are those who abuse the system. There always are.

There are also billionaires who use tax loopholes they are grandfathered in on to borrow a churches tax exempt status in order to both not pay taxes and not actually give money to the Church.

Abusers abound.

But that’s no reason to not help those who so desperately need it.

I believe in Medicare, I believe in Social Security. I believe that all Americans should have access to health care and that no child should be denied coverage because they have a preexisting condition.  I believe our Veterans should never worry about their health care, both physical and mental. I believe those who serve our country are the bravest and it moves me to tears when I see them return home heroes and I grieve when one of them makes the ultimate sacrifice. Democrats do NOT hate the military.

I believe in education, I believe in making it accessible to all even if I have to contribute to educate your child. It only makes our country greater. I believe in birth control. Sure, it would be grand if everyone waited till marriage but it ain’t gonna happen and so let’s arm our people with the knowledge of how our bodies work and how to care for them. How to prevent STD’s and pregnancy is important. More education and prevention equals less abortion.

I don’t like abortion. I don’t. I could never have one, unless my life was at stake and only then because I have two beautiful children here to care for. I’ve never come across a pro-choice person who was like HELL YEAH I LOVE ABORTION! I can only make the choice for myself, I cannot chose for you-nor do I want too, but I do want you to be safe and cared for both mentally and physically should you need or want an abortion. I can only pray for more sex education and more birth control so we have fewer abortions.

I am a democrat. I am a Christian. I have strong morals. I believe in family. I believe that family comes in many shapes and sizes and colors and orientations. I believe in working for what I have. I believe in sharing what I have. I believe in loving my fellow man. I believe in raising my children to accept all kinds, and to strive to see other’s points of view. I believe in honoring the office of the Presidency, even if ‘my guy’ isn’t holding office.

So please, not all republicans are rich white racists. Not all democrats are lazy and looking out for a hand out. But all republicans and democrats are Americans.

And this democrat American loves her country.

God bless you, and God Bless America.

 

My Latest on iVillage…I was in a starter marriage.

I don’t talk a lot about my first wedding. I say wedding because there really was no marriage…just a good party then a lot of ugliness for five years. I wrote about it for Just Be Enough here. iVillage asked me to speak about it so I took a deep breath, put on my big girl pantaloons and gave it a shot. Be gentle. This one was rough…it’s hard to be honest without dragging all the dirty laundry out.

Moms Night Out? Don’t mind if I do…

You know how a baby product will come out and you’ll think where the heck were you when my baby was born? Well, this is one of them. I mean really. I’m just glad that Huck is still little enough to use it. SITS and GRACO asked me to host a Moms Night Out to celebrate the release of the new Snugride Click Connect 4o and you know I said yes! An evening of hanging with some cool DC/Baltimore bloggers, yummy food and a car seat? Yes. Please.

I was so nervous. I don’t throw many parties for the over 4 set these days, would I be crazy excited and make a fool out of myself? Would I do that thing that makes Zach crazy where I apologize for things no one has even noticed? (Answer: yes and yes) One thing is for sure, Graco sent me a lovely food budget and I spent every penny of and we had a blast.

Here’s the thing: my Huckleberry is a peanut. He’s wee. He is just now at 16 months fitting into 12 month clothes. I don’t mind one little bit, they are only little for so long and more tiny baby snuggles for me! He’s healthy and growing properly on the curve so it’s all good in the hood. Boss was so different, we moved him to a big boy car seat by the time he was 9 months as he had outgrown his infant seat, but Huckie? Still kicking it in the Snugride 35. Still comfy. Not scrunched. But new Maryland Law states that our bebe’s must be rear facing until they are 2. 2! Did you know babies are 5 times safer rear facing in a crash? I don’t want to mess with those odds, rear facing it is. Huckie may have room now…but just barely and baby brother is indeed getting bigger every day. Ugh. Graco to the rescue. How I wish I had this car seat when Huck was born! It is the first rear facing car seat that goes from birth to 2 years. It has an amazing base that has 8 position so that baby can have more legroom as he or she grows.  I was worried that it wouldn’t really fit in my Honda Accord, as it’s a smaller car but there were no problems at all. In fact it didn’t seem to take up more room than the snugride 35.

Now is the part that I really love. One day you put your kids in the seat and they fit perfectly. The next morning they’ve grown and you have to adjust the straps, and that is such a freaking pain. Unless you’ve got the one handed slide adjustment that this car seat has. It’s so easy and here is the point in the party when I wished I had video recorded my showing everyone how it worked. Not because I was awesome, I was SO nervous! But because 14 women collectively made the awesomest, most hilarious “oooooooo” noise I have ever heard. Go ahead non- car seat families and giggle…you have NO IDEA how much easier this makes life. It adjusts the head rest and the straps with one slide…”oooooooo” indeed.

(Photo of tired Huckleberry via MamaBearBlogs– Thank you!)

Huckleberry joined the party and did a little dance for all the ladies in just a diaper…forget Magic Mike, Huckie’s got the moves and the ladies loved him. (it’s a requirement in this house) I quickly took the opportunity to snap his cute boot in the seat. We’ve been using the seat for a week now and it’s great. I wish I’d had it the whole time! Now I just need to have one more baby so I can get the full use of it. Babies are like crack, man. Addictive.

There are two things I don’t love: This click connect is not compatible with older strollers and such. This doesn’t affect me as Huck is too big but I know there is an adapter available and that strollers from here on out will be compatible. It wouldn’t prevent me from buying this seat at all. The other thing is that one of the buckles between Huck’s legs is crazy hard to get in there, this might just be my seat…I haven’t heard that complaint from anyone else.

The next Day Huck got his little steering wheel, crawled in and made his super cute voom voom noises. It’s a hit with everyone in the house.

**I am ashamed to admit I was too busy having fun at the party and I neglected to take pictures. Sorry. I was provided with a carseat for review but all opinions are of course my own. Although I seriously thing Graco should consider “Because babies are like crack, man. Addictive.” You’re welcome, Graco.

The Graco SnugRide® Click Connect™ 40 – the first and only newborn to two-year infant car seat that actually grows with your baby from four pounds all the way up to 40 pounds. The car seat is designed for a parent on the go. The infant car seat can be easily removed from the base and used as a carrier when the infant is small, providing portability and convenience so you can easily move your infant in and out of the car without disturbing them.

The American Academy of Pediatrics recently made the recommendation to keep all children in rear-facing car seats until the age of 2. Graco set out to make this product so parents can keep infants rear facing longer while still keeping them comfortable.

This is a sponsored post written by me on behalf of Graco. The opinions and text are all mine.

 

A Perfect Metaphor for Motherhood. Or something.

Remember the days when “Me” time was whole day spent doing…well, whatever it was that you wanted? For some it was the spa (well, for me), or shopping (also guilty as charged), or camping (not on your life, but more power to ya!), or running (Gerlock, I am looking at you…with amazement!). Then we had kids and “ME” time became a trip to the grocery store or hallelujah, Target ALL BY OURSELVES? I feel I can state this with a fair amount of certainty due to the insane frequency of excited tweets regarding this whenever any one of us makes an escape from our oh-so-beloved minions and makes our way out into the world unincumberd by tiny hands reaching out to grab whatever it is we happen to pass by.

Chances of having some food, or kid residue of some kind unnoticed upon our clothing as we walk through the world? High.

My in-laws got me a metric ton of gift cards this year for my birthday. Starbucks. Nordstrom. H&M. To name a few. They know me so well. Zach and I had an errand to run so we loaded the kids into the car and headed out. And ooooo. Nordstrom Rack was right.next.door. Luckily for me, my darling man likes to shop almost as much as I do…or maybe not luckily. Whatever, his conference was coming up and he needed clothes.  So into Nordstrom we went. I bought Huckleberry some kicks. He looks fly #forawhiteguy.

Then the choir of angels sang and the God rays hit a bag…I have a real problem with purses, and addiction really, and Mumsy will tell you that it started early. I went through several school bags each year.

Because, reasons.

It pained me, pained me to walk away from this bag. Calvin Klein, which I don’t believe I’ve ever bought one of his…but this bag. It spoke to me. Probably because it’s a total knock off of a Micheal Kors, but whatever. I love it, and it loved me and I had to leave it there. So I did what I always do. I put it on hold. Sure someone might buy it, but not while I am in the vicinity. Then I remembered…GIFT CERTIFICATE! It was then that I used my terrible math skills to make deals in my mind. I announced to Zach “I’m going to get a big paycheck today and go back and get that bag.” Then the mail came, and my paycheck came, and I went back and got that bag.

Oh, I love it. It carries everything and I feel like a million bucks carrying it. It made me happy to my toes. A glimpse of my former glamorous no need to worry if I have wipes or fruit snacks life, and yet it is big enough to make sure that I do have both wipes and fruit snacks at all times.

Then sweet Super-fly Huckleberry decided that the perfect place to dump out his milk was-you got it- my bag.

I may or may not have cried a tear or two. Or a hundred. Poor bag. Not even three days old and already baptized in the ways of baby. Through the power of twitter people rallied to support me and tell me how to save my bag. She is saved. A tiny bit worse for wear, but certainly not smelling of old milk, thank God. Now she is just like me….she may look good at first glance, but look closer and there is definitely some left over baby residue of some kind.

It adds character, and let’s be honest, happiness.