She adores Him.

As I was gassing up at Costco this weekend, after E & I were visiting a friend and her 4 kids, this conversation with my sweet 5-year old took place:

E (very serious, yet happy): "Mommy, I adore that boy Alex because I've always been looking for a big boy who's 10 and he's so handsome that I hope he'll be my husband. I've been wanting someone who will always be 5 years older than me and I've finally found him. I just adore him."

Me: "Really? That's sweet. But, what about Cade? He's a big boy too." (He's my other friend's son, whom we're secretly conspiring an arranged marriage with them since they'd be so cute together and that way we'd be related and get to spend family holidays together and wouldn't have to split time with the grandchildren - you know, normal reasons.)

Me still: "Don't you think Cade's handsome?" (I mean just look at them together getting married bowling!)



E: "Well, yes he's cute, but he's only 8. Alex is 10 and that's perfect because he's older and I want my husband to be 10."

Me, pouting: "oh. well. ok. honey. whatever you want." (on the phone canceling the reservations at the church we've already made for June of 2029.)

The Art and Math of Seduction

My husband just declared he doesn't know how to seduce me. This makes me wonder why it's taken 10 years of marriage to figure that out. And also? What is it about seduction that's a mystery? I'm pretty positive I can seduce him in about 5 seconds flat. It's a fairly elementary equation with men...

Bare skin = turn on.

For example, yesterday I had on a bathing suit that is somewhat risque. It was a 'treat' for my husband on our 10th anniversary trip. It is a fairly basic 1-piece but there is a sizable area in the between 'the girls' that is open and that goes down a little ways. It's all the rage right now. But I ended up not wearing it as I had planned, because husband couldn't handle it in public. He kept pulling back each side of the top to see "how easily one of the girls could just fall out". Then he'd examine it from the side saying "I can see the 'cuppage'" (and he'd insert hand to be sure.) You see where this is going.

I suppose it can be a bit more complex for the man figuring out this equation with a woman. Because, this would require said man to understand it is indeed a DIFFERENT equation.

Much to my dismay, apparently husband doesn't understand that. Since he's still mad at me after yesterday - he came back to our resort room and stripped down from his bathing suit and just walked around buck nude while eating an apple, occasionally giving me 'the eye'. He admitted he was trying to seduce me. By walking around. Naked.

This morning, he's tried a different tack. Doing the dishes and saying, "well if doing the dishes isn't a turn-on, I don't know what is." hmmm.

I've read articles advising men that a sure-fire way to seduce a woman is to be funny and make her laugh. Now, perhaps I'm a different bird, but if I were to dream about a man seducing me, I would not be dreaming of rolling on the floor laughing, snorting and gafawing and then oh! whoops! we're all of a sudden in a passionate lock. But, I do live with a "funny guy" so admittedly, the wife of a 'funny guy' has immunity to that type of strategy that builds up over the years.

I suppose a mathematical lesson is in order. It looks something like this:

Equation for Seducing a Woman:
Doing something unexpectedly thoughtful and romantic + genuine verbal compliments and/or emotional, loving utterances + manly 'take-chargedness' = turn on

One clarification: by genuine verbal compliments, I don't mean "you're so hot". Just sayin.

Now obviously, it can change and become more simple or more complex, such as:

Doing something unexpectedly thoughtful and romantic + genuine verbal compliments and/or emotional, loving utterances - the amount of sleep I've had (or lack thereof) + manly take-chargedness +\- the kids' (or his) unruly OR especially helpful behavior the previous week or 2 x my mood & the day of the month +/- how fat I feel = turn on

So, seriously - what's so hard about that?

My blog. How I've missed you.

I have admittedly been absent from my blog for a while. Life. Kids. Stuff. BUT, I am back. For a week at LEAST! Today marks the first day of my 7-day "second honeymoon" with husband, meaning it's almost our 10th anniversary and kids are in another state for the first time ever and I'm at a loss as to what exactly I'm supposed to do with myself. And since I'm typically always at my computer, I will be blogging uninterrupted for this week. It's my comfort away from home. Perhaps not every day - but at least I'll be giving my blog some much deserved love. Some attention after so long... so much neglect. I do heart you, you little bloggy you (shyly running my finger along the screen). Now don't you be mad at mommica. Here's a cookie. Now be a good little blog and let me release my creative energies, my emotions this week. I have a feeling I have a lot stored up and have no idea what's ahead. My blogs may be short and sweet or long and wandering this week. Maybe funny and maybe not. We'll see what you lead me to, sweet little creative outlet bloggy-poo. Mwah!

Day 1: Now what?
10 a.m.: The day started a bit rough - husband made us 2 hours later than mommica-determined schedule. I know we don't need a schedule for a road trip, but still... I did want to get some sun once we arrived, but after some deep breaths and several progesterone cream pumps, I was happy to finally be leaving even if it meant 4 p.m. arrival time. Relax mommica. Seriously.
Noon-thirty: Husband and I have been TALKING in the car for 2.5 hours straight! Without interruption. And not just chit-chatting about blah blah blah, but REALLY talking. Like about deep life-issue stuff. Excusez-moi? I truly don't recall the last time we did that. My heart beats wildly at this thought. Husband clearly couldn't wait to chat it up because he had some GOOD stuff to say! Lots of great discussion. Realizations and wisdom thrown all over the place. I had no idea these ideas were even in my head!

Hold on. I need to relocate the computer so I can see the ocean instead of the fridge while I'm getting my inspiration on. Yeeeeeessssssss.. That's better. Outside looking at the ocean.

Anyhow, the car ride was everything it should have been - filled with great conversation, great music, hand holding, some tears, some laughs.

4:00 Arrive at the resort. One minute inside the room and I'm completely stir crazy. It's a little too far from the action. A little too quiet. I'm totally bored already. I'm giddy. I'm almost hysterical. What now? Call the kids. Not home. Step on porch to look at the ocean and notice the bees all over the beautiful purple bush thingy. Worry? Did we sanitize after McDonald's so we don't get swine flu while we're here? Ugh. Unpack. Arrange shoes. Open wine. Get music started. I'm not sure but I absolutely know there's some kind of responsible thing I'm not doing right now.

5:00 Alone. Husband ran to store for dinner (my amazing gorgonzola/evoo/garlic spread on Italian bread for apps, shrimp scampi with linguini and salad, of course, for dinner). By myself. Start blogging. Finish my glass of wine. Start breathing. Releasing. Relaxing. Listening to Death Cab for Cutie. I want to sleep and cry. Why is that I wonder?

We have no plans. No time schedule. Nothing to do but learn about each other again after 10 years and 2 kids and lots of rough times and lots of great times and complete financial stresses so intense that I thought we could literally crack from the pressure and all the while feeling God's grace and care.


Breathing.


I still want to cry. Not a sad cry. Just cry?


And now, as I sit here waiting for husband to return to me, I realize after all the guilt I've felt this week with Princess E sobbing, begging me to cancel my trip and worrying about all the details of having them with 3 different people...

I neeed this

Cleanse Follow-up. One month later.

So, I didn't post every day of my 8-day cleanse. Shoot me. Here's what happened in a nutshell... I made it 4.75 days without eating a single thing (yay me!) - was really in a pretty good mood the entire time, much to my surprise. The last day you're supposed to feel better than ever and the beginning days people typically feel tired, cruddy, headachy - none of which I felt. However, my last day I couldn't get out of bed and felt so horrible I couldn't move. I had this amazing urge to sob, which I did, and was shaky and lifeless. So I guess that my 'deep cleanse' reaction came at the end, which kind of stinks since I was really looking for that super high as a perk for doing it, which I never got. So I ended up eating a sliver of canteloupe that morning and started feeling a bit better - then went the rest of the day without eating and had dinner.

My overall feeling about it - I would do it again! It was hard - but do-able since husband really helped out with feeding the kids at night, which was the hardest/most tempting part. I developed a superhero sense of smell while I was on it - could literally smell food a mile away, which was like being pregnant x 100. I'm not sure I feel any different after doing it, but I was able to lose a little weight, and I now can say I have some will power, which I'm pretty happy about. OK, boring post done.

The Cleanse. Day 1.

I have decided to get a happy colon and do an 8-day cleanse with a 5 day liquids-only fast. Crazy much? Yep. Why???? You ask. Well, because a) I don't have an unhappy colon, but a healthy (aka cleaned out) colon is essential to some body stuff, and I'm all about ridding my body of toxins, and b) because I ADORE eating and could quite possibly eat a small child should they get in my way of dinner, and c) because I need to lose 10 pounds and due to reason (b) I have trouble reducing my portion sizes to allow me to drop said weight and figured this would be the perfect way to do that, and d) because I'd really like to prove to myself I'm as strong as my friend Melissa who has done this twice already.

Is it just me or do you ever feel entirely wimpish around people who have the strength of Jesus during his 40 days in the desert? Like I have a friend who regularly runs full marathons, am I'm all "huh. I attempted to run a marathon in high school (without training one single day) and made it 7 miles and literally felt like my calves were hack-sawed in half for about a month. Granted - that was due to sheer stupidity - not my will power, but still. I could have actually had the willpower to train consistently.

Another example - after 15 hours of labor without feeling much of anything contraction-wise, they turned my petocin up to full volume and one contraction sent me over the edge and I was practically french-kissing the anesthesiologist as he walked in the room with my epidural. I have many friends who suffered through natural child birth without hesitation.

So, you see, I'm trying to develop more discipline in my life and with that comes development of self-control.

Anyhow. So I'm here today. My ritual the past 3 days has been to reduce portions by 25% each day. Fine. Done. No prob. Then today I started the fast. I drink this sand with juice Toxin Absorber with apple juice 5x a day. I've been irritable and my mind has been playing some serious games with my determination. But I think I've already lost about 2 pounds. And I called my friend Melissa and she kicked my a@$ back in shape to finish this thing out.

So, I'll be blogging about my experience each day until I quit - I mean finish the 5 days. Ugh. God help me.

RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! IT'S THE ATTACK OF THE BRIDAL HEADPIECES!!!

Some of you may know that I work in the wedding industry. And those of us in this industry musn't take ourselves too seriously, now shall we? While doing my due-diligence in trend-spotting and the latest fashion research, I came across these runway photos from a very talented Haute Couture designer, who shall remain nameless because I don't want him tracking me down and killing me. However, the photos from this fashion show just crack me up.

PLANNER TIP: If you're a bride & were trying to be chic and trend-setting by having an unusual headpiece to add to your bridal attire and wanted ... say... oh I don't know... maybe a clipper ship on your head? Sorry - think again. It's been done. Unfortunately.

Check out these unique headpieces ... I'd guess by the looks on the models' faces, they're real peachy to try to hold up with the mere strength of one's neck.

I'm thinking this next one is some sort of saxophone with a dive-bombing airplane, but any of your guesses would be ultra helpful...

Your standard guitar on the head... ugh - so overdone these days.

Goodness gracious, someone help this woman! Her ruffles are eating her face off!

Enough of the headpieces, let's discuss the next hot hair trend... rosehawks. That's right. You've heard of mohawks and fauxhawks, but now there's something better for your special day!

Kids, hold on to your hats because here comes Sesame Street's very own... Big Bird's Bride!

And now we bring you a very special look at what can happen when you try to plan your own wedding. This is your brain. This is your brain on blueberries. (Doesn't she look like she's having the most wonderful day of her life??)

Just so you all know, I truly truly mean no harm or attack on this amazing designer. I respect his work and am just having a little fun! (But between you and me, I do wonder what malicious woman broke his heart and ripped it to shreds to make him take it out on these poor models.) Just sayin.

Pshaw. No I don't.

Whenever I complain about my husband's snoring, he always comes at me with "well, so do you!" and I'm all "psht. whatever. puh-lease." I mean, everyone in my family knows there's NUTHing that can compare to the sonic booms that come out of my 94-year old grandma's mouth when she snores, but I. Do. Not. Snore. I may drool, but I don't snore.

Buuuuut, then something happened. After many sleepless nights reading about my very dangerous and pale lover, Edward Cullen, I fell immediately asleep last night - mouth wide open, dead tired. And I remember subconsciously that my body started doing something - that I was doing something that felt very ... good, shall we say? (one eye brow seductively raised) And that it was lulling me to sleep. It was almost hypnotic (mmmm.... yesssssss, drumming fingers together), whatever it was that I was doing.

So then, I woke up and my husband tells me, without missing a beat, that I was snoring. And as I was rolling over telling him I don't do that sort of thing, I realized, hmmm... while I have NEVER done this before, I was indeed snoring. And it drew a strange sense of comfort to me. Hard to describe. And I think I might try it again. I kinda like it (mwahahahaha!)

An Unusual Pen

"Mommy, is this a pen?" he kept asking me as I was typing. After much pressing, I finally looked over to see what pen he was referring to. This is what I saw.

He found it in my purse, unwrapped it and promptly thought it was a writing utensil. While I was sharing my dismay with his father, his daddy proceeded to tell me about how it was funny that when he was about 7 or 8, he would find the USED applicators from his mom in the trash and ask himself, "why would anyone throw these away? They're so cool!" and proceed to play with them.

There's so many reasons I'm afraid of the phrase "Like Father, Like Son."

Different Shades of Mommica

OHMommy had this idea first. I'm taking it to another level. I'm allowing you into my past to see private photos of me - some of which people have never seen before. What can I say? I'm a private person. Don't judge me. Just appreciate me - I'm like a diamond with many facets, or is that faucets? Anyhow, enjoy.

My 'shy look'...


My bookish days...

My first Halloween with my soon-to-be husband...


Oops! My husband caught me just as I had gotten ready for bed...


And finally - this is my natural color... and yes, they're real. Stop staring.

So, you see - this is the real me. I'm laying my true self out there for all of you to see. I hope you'll still love me just the same.

Happy 3rd Birthday, My Sweet Prince

Three years ago today, you, my sweet baby Prince, were born. One of mommy's wisest, best friends, Heidi (who you'll have to wait to meet again in Heaven someday), always told me that 'there was something so incredible, and sweet and tender about a relationship between a mom and her son.' I never believed her, as I was enjoying raising this dainty girly-girl you know as your sister, and I was having a hard time figuring out how I would ever potty train a boy or deal with the bugs and dirt and gross stuff. But, she.was.right. The moment you arrived, there was something so much more helpless or dependent about you - and fragile - not physically - but emotionally. It's hard to describe - but you needed me as your mommy more in a way I understood only in my heart. And suddenly I realized that Heidi was on to something. It was if my heart started melting all over yours, covering it with a lifetime of the most intense adoring for you, and I knew I'd eventually be powerless to your smile and hugs and kisses.

You, my beautiful son, are the most darling, brightest light to me. Your energy is boundless and your belly laughs are completely contagious. You draw people to you that make them say to me "he's my favorite of all the little boys I know." You are Passionate with a capital 'P'. You're affectionate and love to invade people's personal space so you can get right up to them and let them know you LIKE them! You have a fantastic singing voice and a natural bend toward music. You have a special fondness for anything lawn-tool-related and I can tell that you want to be just exactly like your Daddy.

You still put absolutely everything in your mouth and I'm pretty sure you always will. You sweet talk your way out of a serious conversation already and you just want to make people laugh. Your propensity for getting into mischief overwhelms me and your talent for disassembling anything wow's me. Your gag reflex is laughably sensitive. You can throw a tantrum like no other. You do this hilarious thing when you're being 'cute' where you partially close your eyes and mumble "sumasumasuma" with a grin on your face. You say your "R's" like "OWs" and I LOVE it. I cannot count for you all the hundreds of times people have been stopped in their tracks just to get a look at your seriously long eye lashes. You love coffee so much that you will go to great lengths to steal mine, and ask me daily just to smell it.

And I cannot describe how much or how deeply I love your sweet face and your huge heart. You, my Prince, are beyond special. Happy birthday, Love. -Mommy

Breakdown of a Breakdance

Recently, while in Ouray, Colorado (pronounced YOUR-ay, or your-AY), or as E calls it, "MYray", the little Princess gave us quite a show while we were enjoying the most amazing night, eating outside at this historic and a little haunted hotel we stayed at. If you don't know anything about Ouray, it's often called the Swiss Alps of America because it sits at nearly 8,000 ft. and is nestled amoung 14,000 peaks on every side. It's about 7 miles from Telluride as the crow flies (it's always a good day when I can use that phrase.) Anyhow, it's crazy beautiful in a rustic way and we fell madly in love with it and have made dreamy plans to run a very cool B&B there someday whilst our children are free to play outside on the street and ride their bikes through town unattended.

I digress. Back to the dance. So, we're sitting outside listening to the live entertainment (a guy playing guitar who, in all fairness, probably should have been playing in a nightclub circa 1978), and my E is really getting into the music. She's grooving with moves you've never seen before (anyone know the movie that came from?). She's rocking and swaying and her body is contorting into a funky, hip, sometimes awkward 4-year old dance party all on her own. She's breakin it down, and here's the proof that she gets her love of dance from her mommica and she's solid as gold, baby. (Post posting note: Also, apologies in advance for the very off numbering of steps. Not enough caffeine yet, apparently.)

Step 1: Sugary cocktail of choice. 'Nuf said.

Step 2. Give a little pose to begin. Confident. Strong.Step 3. Start moving with some arms. That's right. 1. 2. snap. 4.

Step 5. Do some Vogue-ing. With a smile.
Step 6. Get serious. Use props. Make sounds.

Step 7. Bring back the pointer fingers. They never fail.


Step 9. FOCUS! Get it on. Get 'cha GROOVE on, babay. Das right.Step 10. Rhythmic Clapping. Essential.
Step 11. Involve audience. Stir their emotions. Make them WANT to be a part of your thang.
Step 12. A little shout out to all the beautiful PE-ople!

Step 13. WO! Where'd she go? Ooh - some unesspected-NAss. I'm diggin. I'm diggin it.
Step 14. A final WOW-er
Step 15. And then she's done. Jus' like dat.

Wordless Wednesday

Green juice fu-man-choo

You Had Me At "Laundry"

Today while Mommica was super SUPER busy working back in my home office (and leaving my Princess to do as she chooses around the house), I came out to check on her and lo and behold, I just about had a heart attack. I still am reeling from what I saw. I mean, it was practically orgasmic (sorry all my good Christian readers, but IT'S TRUE!) I came out - suspecting that she was up to no good without my direct supervision, and I walk in to THIS...

And THIS:

I'm practically crying and laughing all at the same time right now. My precious 4-year old just went ahead and took it upon herself to FOLD THE LAUNDRY!!!!

Are you off the floor yet? I'm still there - typing here right next to the couch - on the rug - still in disbelief that my sassy, adorable and sassy (did I say that already?) little girl decided to do this on her own.

Best of all, she was ecstatic when I hauled over another 30-pound laundry basket full of "GOODIES!" for her! Oh thank you God.

The Princess: Graffiti Artist or Repeat Felony Offender? You Be The Judge.

We're having a bit of an "issue" (picture me making quote signs with my hands in the air) with The Princess and her artistic utterances. I'm indeed convinced this "issue" needs to be addressed legally, as I'm fairly certain that all of my property is or has been, at one point, destroyed by this little lady. She's 4.5 (read: SHE KNOWS BETTER ON SO MANY LEVELS IT'S NOT EVEN FUNNY.) I am considering kicking her out letting the legal system determine the appropriate punitive action since nothing I do seems to help. Yes, I am litigious. I've begged my mother not to purchase any more writing utensils for her, I've had her clean it up herself, but alas - nothing curbs Princess's insatiable urge to artistically destroy.

I've stolen some explanatory sentencing documentation from a legal site about graffiti, so we can all be objective in this sentencing. But first, the evidence... (click photos to enlarge the type)











Graffiti is a crime Stringent penalties in the Crimes Act 1900 and in the Summary Offenses Act 1988 have been introduced to deal with graffiti crime (That's what I said). Under section 195 of the Crimes Act a person who maliciously destroys or damages property belonging to another is liable to a maximum penalty of imprisonment for 5 years. (That should be sufficient time for me to acquire the funds to purchase all new furniture for her to start over then.) If the destruction or damage is caused by means of fire or explosives (ahhh. so that's what's next), the maximum penalty is imprisonment for 10 years. (I know - you're thinking it's a bit harsh, but did you see those pictures??) In the Summary Offenses Act the penalties for graffiti offenses are:

• Section 9 - willfully marking, by means of chalk, paint or other material (crayons, pencils and my Monogrammed address stamper sufficiently qualify, no?), any premises, where the marking is within view from a public place unless the consent of the occupier or person in charge of the premises is first obtained.
  

Graffiti Removal:
You do not have to accept that once your property has been subject to graffiti it is there to stay. (I KNOW!) One of the more effective strategies against illegal graffiti is to remove it as quickly as possible and to persist in removing it. (Sounds like a FANTASTIC way to spend my days. I'LL give YOU an effective strategy....

Princess, looks like the writings' on the wall, little one...

I'm a BusyFan

This weekend, while all the hoopla occurred over at BlogHer in San Francisco, the Mommica family has been on vaca in San Diego, creating our own version of hoopla.

A few highlights to our trip thus far:

1. Princess's Dramamine wearing off 4 minutes shy of our destination, and Mommica running to the back of the minivan to catch all the regurgitated remnants of prior breakfasts, lunches, dinners and snacks for the last 2 weeks, all caught in precious pink blanket still sitting in garage downstairs.

2. Leaving the largest tip of my life after my little Prince knocked over not one, but three glasses of water in a restaurant - on 3 separate occasions.

3. The famous blogging Dream Team of ...
BusyDad and Fury paid Mommica and kin a visit on the beach! Husband is still melting in Phoenix until he awaits his turn to come out later this week, and BusyDad's dWife was at a trade show, so it was just us and the kids and our Roberto's taco's at the ocean.

Now, I know many of you will be all "ooohh - BusyDad! FURY! I'm so insanely jealous!" And, I'd have to say - mmm hmm. I know. We built sand castles luxury blogger resorts with rings of fire and seaweed slip-n-slides, we boogie boarded (OK well, we actually just watched as BD dragged Fury on a boogie board), we (I) laughed as The Prince made BusyDad his P.W.B. (personal water boy), whipping him with seaweed and shouting at him to "GO GET MORE!" water in the buckets until BD had walked about 5 miles back and forth to the water, with Prince in tow. I sat happily watching Fury wishing I could bite those squishy cheeks as he was teaching my kids how to dig a tunnel through our blogger resort. And I was overjoyed when my Prince treated BusyDad and Fury to a full-blown nuclear meltdown as we parted ways. (All photos to document the day will be featured on our semi-joint post featuring "The First Ever, Probably Could Become Annual BlogKids Convention" on BusyDad's digs shortly... stay tuned.)

So until the next annual BlogKids convention, hosted by yours truly, and BusyDad, I bid Jim and sweet Fury adieu... until we meet again.

Oh just another morning.

Well, yesterday, as I was sitting at the Eggery with a few other people enjoying a wheat bagel and coffee with John & Cindy McCain, I realized, I'm pretty cool. I mean, it's not everyday that one gets to chill for a meal with a presidential candidate - regardless of who you're for. I was supposed to be there as part of a special focus group my friend arranged (who works for his campaign.) Then, as a surprise to us all, IN pops the paparazzi (OK just the real press) and John and his size-zero wife (I'm so not kidding about that), and I'm all "uh wah?" I start panicking and primping my hair saying "DAM my haircutter for making my bangs so ugly short!" as I turn awkwardly around, twisting only the top half of my body to quickly greet them, as the bottom half of me is pinned between my chair and the breakfast table. I contort my arm to shake Cindy's hand, as I'm scoping her body for the lovely bedazzling jewels she owns. Then, I untwist and sit down to shuffle the papers they gave us to read on his positions, and all I can think of is "what if the paper takes a horrible picture of me and I look like I have 4 chins and a muffin top and one of my eyes looks lazy?" And then, as I'm supposed to be contributing intelligent conversation about alternative energy sources and the rescue of Indy Mac and such, my mind wanders to a scenario where a begrudged ex-campaign worker sneaks into the restaurant and shoots McCain and his innocent focus group attendees, and I can already see the headline (and the terribly unflattering picture of dead Mommica) on the front page... "Shooter Takes Down McCain and Next 'Mother Of The Year'Hopeful, with Hideous Bangs And All"

So once the press took off, and we had a nice discussion on the impact of the gas crisis, Mr. Presidential Candidate asked me if that was an engagement ring on my finger. (??? presumably to congratulate me?) (At this point in the story, Husband naturally raised his brow). "Oh John, no," I said, blushing at his observation. "I've become allergic to my antique wedding band, so I only wear my engagement ring right now, but I've been happily married for 9 years." He smiled and left and I thought, "how terribly thoughtful he is". And I also thought "cindy must be pissed."

It's Business Time.

In honor of my NINTH wedding anniversary tomorrow, ladies and gentlemen, I'm sending this looove letter and song out to my honey. So avert your eyes to the sappiness and squishy heart love if you can't handle it... ya, you know who you are! Just get outta here...

Bahz,

I know our 'business' time has changed a little since that fateful day 9 years ago when we said "I do" next to that beautiful creek in Sedona... I mean now we've got 2 kids to pin down to brush their teeth, and your toe nails to clip, and bills to pay, and Idol to watch. The list goes on. But I can assure you, when I see you comin' at me with your Breathe Right Strip on (ya, that's right) and your bite guard in to prevent your teeth from grinding, all I can think about is... "wow... that's MY man!" And I'm sure that over the years, you've come to appreciate my Thermal Fusion Enzyme Masque face and my toussled hair tied in a messy bun and my still-sexy-maternity-sweat-pants-that-are-too-comfortable-NOT-to-wear-
even-in-the-summer slinky outfits.

And according to our "Business Schedule", tonight it's "time" baby. So I throw this little love song out to you as a precursor, my love... to let you know that even though I'm always tired, I still think you're all that, and one hot husband - even more today than 9 years ago.

I love you Bab (pronounced Bob). Happy Business Time, Honey.

Random Thoughts.

1. I will officially NOT be boycotting American Idol since my honey David Cook won. I was completely ready to never watch it again if little Gomer Pyle Archuletta was victorious. Praise God. There is some semblance of sanity left in this world. Now moving on to "So You Think You Can Dance?" I know I can, so I can't wait to see these losers try and show me up tomorrow.

2. Can you tell my 4-year-old is a chef in the making (or that we watch too much Food Network)? Today, she and I were enjoying a mommy-daughter moment of mani's and pedi's on my bathroom floor in preparation for her "Moving Up" program at preschool tonight, when I started filing her nails with my nail file. I asked her to run and get the clippers and off she went, but not before saying, "Mommy, I'll go get the clippers and then I'll come RIGHT back so we can finish zesting my nails!"

The End.

The Sad, Sad Toilet - A Memoir

Hello dear readers. My name is Toilet. I've enjoyed a good life with Mommica, Husband, Princess and Prince. In fact, I remember the day Husband picked me out at Home Depot... I couldn't believe how lucky I was to be picked! I live in hall bathroom now, and while things are a bit more eventful at times now that the children are in the world, I'm quite happy. I'm used often and have witnessed some gruesome, and some lovely things in my short life.

The lovely things? Oh I remember Princess's first time on me. She called me the "big girl potty" - ah, the celebration, the tears. Prince's first crying when placed upon the "big boy potty" (he's not ready for me quite yet). Mommica's many nights sitting contentedly on my lid while we watched the kids bathe happily in the tub. The Prince hands splashing around in my water before Mommica comes and scolds him. Yes, I've seen some sweet times.

I've also seen some dark times. Times I don't wish to recall. And yet, something keeps bringing me back to that terrible place. In fact, I still have nightmares about it all when it happened the first time ... I was alone... disassembled like some two-bit appliance thrown in the yard where uncivilized animals go to the bathroom. No love. No TP. Husband had to unscrew every bolt, loosen every seal and pry me off the wall... taking me from my home, only to shove things up my pipes I had no idea could be shoved there. Yes, I was returned to my home, feeling cleansed and a bit free-er. But I cannot bear the thought of another cold, dark night when I'm ripped from all that I know and love about my life in hall bathroom.

You see, the Prince likes throw toys in water... all water - whether it's a mop bucket, the dog water bowl, or my beloved bowl. He callously laughes as he watches them go 'bye-bye' into the abyss that is my pipes. But he doesn't know the torment he puts me through. And as hard as I try to flush the toys and avoid the hell that's sure to follow, it's to no avail. He doesn't hear Husband swear like an emotionally-charged premenstrual woman who's just run out of chocolate ice cream, when he sees me overflowing from clogged pipes. The Prince just thinks its all fun and games.

And yet... here I am again. Brutally torn from my safety. My home in hall bathroom. Damn that doll shoe and bracelet that I could not pass. My only hope is that Husband will remember the good times we've had. The clean flushes. The quiet mornings reading together. Will I ever be allowed to return? Not if Prince can help it, I fear.

Dinner Conversation

Conversation with my 4-year old at dinner tonight:

(E): "Mommy and Daddy, do you know what a special day I'm going to have tomorrow?"
(M&D): "No, tell us!"
(E Waiving her arms, gesturing with both hands and using little mouth clicks while nodding her head as if saying "yep, yep I know exactly what I'm saying"): "WELL, I'm flying to California and I'm running late so I'm taking all my kids and (insert brother's name) and we're going to stay from the 17th to the 16th. And Kiki and Mary (dolls) are coming with us and Kiki is going to fall asleep on my lap and (as she pulls down the top of her tank top to expose her chest) she's going to drink my milk from my 'thing ' (pointing to her "nibble") and then her father is going to hold her."
(M&D): "Who's her father?"
(E): (flicking her pointer finger toward her brother) "That guy."
(M&D understandably grossed out): "oh."