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.