Tip from a mother of 3

Totally fine to allow yourself one glass of wine as soon as all your kids are asleep.  You have my permission. 

 

Did you know that one glass of wine isn't 4 or 5 ounces? 

 

One glass = however much wine as you can possibly fit in a glass. 

 

So for Christmas, I will be asking Santa for a set of REALLY BIG wine glasses. 

Recently 4

I have hit a bit of a rough patch lately.  My back is getting better, but it is pretty fatigued and I seem to have a lot of painful flare-ups.  Riding in the car is hard, and it seems like I need to drive the kids somewhere everyday.  Bending and lifting is particularly hard on me.  And that is basically all I do, so that's not working out so well.   This means I am approaching everything I do in a cloud of pain and exhaustion.

We also seem to have more going on than usual.  We have several house projects going on and the to-do lists keep growing.  There isn't even a good time to make a phone call!  

Andrew is potty training and he is doing a fabulous job.  He is basically potty trained, except he has some sort of GI condition.  We have to manage that with fiber and laxatives and finding that "sweet spot" with is diet and medicines is a challenge.  I have spent many hours lying in bed in the middle of the night with thoughts running through my head....."What if I give him 1 teaspoon of miralax and 1 tsp of benefiber every morning?  Or 2 tsp of miralax?  Or 2 tsp benefiber?"
"I could given him prune juice in a little tylenol cup!  It is his favorite color - purple! He loves tylenol!"
"Should I take him to a specialist?  What if he never is potty trained and he craps his pants until he is an adult?  He will never have a girlfriend!  And he loves the single ladies!"
(Please, please do not look at my google history.)

 

(Yes, we will have those ugly counters....someday they will be honed granite...someday.)

On the other hand, he is soooo proud of himself which is adorable.  We sing "Go Andrew, go Andrew, go go go Andrew!"  while he goes.  And he likes to say, "Here it comes!" with a big smile on his face.   He loves his rewards, skittles for #1 and his beloved goldfish for #2.  Goldfish are now only a potty training reward.  (Because we just cannot control ourselves around them unless there are strict limits.)   Of course Andrew has an elaborate hand washing routine and loves to run around pantless....which means I have little piles of shorts, undies and diapers all over my house and we have to say things like, "Get your penis off of the ottoman!". 

Grace is great.  Her activities have died down, which is nice.  However, her constant exuberance and inquisitive nature (she asks questions about everything, all day) coupled with my lack of patience, are not the best fit.  We have conversations that go like this...
"Grace please do not ask me any more questions for the next 2 minutes.  Please."  (I plead in a desperate voice.)
"Huh?  What?  No more questions?"
"Yes!"
"So you don't want me to ask you ANYTHING for the next 2 minutes.  Right?"
Continue this basic pattern until I lose it and send everyone to their room.

Poor Mae has numerous benign, yet annoying conditions that require management.
1. She eats constantly.
2. She cries a lot, unless she is being held.
3. She does not sleep through the night.  She has 3 times so far, and I am being generous as she really just slept from 10-4am or 5am. 
(Yes, I do know she is a baby.)
4. She has a blocked tear duct which requires eye drops and frequent massages of the duct, which is super fun.

 

(Here is my dining room table, now a changing table.  Yes, that is a poopy diaper next to a crystal bowl.)

5. She has persistent diaper rash that precludes the usage of wipes, necessitates multiple creams, and now we trying weird bleach free diapers.

I am going back to work in a few weeks, and I think I am ready.  Actually, I know I am ready.  I think I need a little exposure to something other than taking care of my house and kids....you see, I have been having dreams (well, lets call them what they really are, fantasies) about the following:

1. A minivan with auto close on the rear hatch (it won't hurt my back to close my trunk then).
2. A pantry, so I can actually see what is in my cupboards without climbing onto a chair or getting on my hands and knees (again, hard on my back) and a normal size refrigerator.
3.  That I wasn't insane and actually allowed myself to hire a bit of cleaning help.  
4. A trip anywhere without having to buckle three kids into three car seats.  And I don't mean like a vacation trip.  I mean like a grocery store trip.  Right now, going to Walgreens alone feels like I just went on a 5 star spa vacation. 
5. Spending money on something other than visits to the doctor, physical therapist, the chiropractor, weird SI joint lock belts, lumbar pillows, prescriptions and various OTC laxative medications.   
6. A day where the only poop I have to deal with is my own.

Think I need to get out a bit????

My thoughts exactly...

except i don't say it this nicely.  Yikes.

Couldn't resist

Horrible things I say to my kids that I only kinda mean, and you all want to say but won't admit it.

"Stop acting like a GIANT BABY!"  Usually to Andrew when he is tantruming about something. 

"Seriously.  Stop talking."  I say this about a dozen times a week, usually to Grace.  Make that a bakers dozen.  In my defense, she talks constantly.  She usually asks a question three times before I can even come up with an answer.

"Andrew, get down from there or you will fall and crack your head open.  That would be an expensive mess."

"Grace and Andrew, be nice to each other.  When mom goes crazy and is sent away, you will need each other."  This is one....I maybe shouldn't say.

"Leave me alone."  Usually I want to say this out loud to many people, but only really say it to poor Kevin or my darling children.

"If you continue to act like an animal, I treat you like an animal. I will make you sleep outside in the dog kennel behind the garage with all the squirrels and bunny poop." Note that carrying the child out to the dog kennel would definitely drive home the point.  Not that I ever did that....

"Do not touch Mommy!"  I hate being touched.  Makes me cringe.  Creeps me out.

I know these sound just horrible.  However, my kids simply ignore me.  Excellent survival skills.   My pleas to be left alone and untouched, usually result in extreme cuddling.  Picture two kids on my lap and Grace's face plastered to my cheek and their grubby little paws all over me.  Maybe I should try reverse psychology.

And I have saved the best for last.  I cannot remember where I got this from... 
"If you don't stop that, I will beat you like a rented mule!" This always makes Grace giggle. I am sure someday I will be explaining this to some teacher or social worker.

Three * and a toe

At Matt's wedding, after a drink or two (or twelve) Mark started getting a bit silly.  And at some point a glass was dropped.  The specifics of what led up to the dropping will not be disclosed.  Those of us who were there know what happened.  No blame is being placed, except to say that it was definitely not me who was sloppy enough to drop a glass.

A shard of glass flew into the air and accelerated down to the ground, piercing my big toe.  I chose to ignore this pain for a minute or two until I felt that my (borrowed) flip flop was a bit, uh, slippery.  With blood.  So I hobbled off the dance floor and grabbed a napkin to clean up.  Well the bleeding was not stopping, so in a very subdued fashion I asked Amy to find one of the doctors onsite and to tell me if I needed stitches.  I was thinking that the last thing I needed to do was go to the Altoona emergency room at midnight.

I should have looked at my poor toe before I asked for assistance, as the wound was about 1.5mm.  Not exactly stitch-worthy. 

Three doctors came to my aid.  All were 30 or younger, so I am guessing this is the first time they have been at a party and someone needed a doctor.  I am thinking this was exciting for them. 

Doctor 1 "The Resident" 
"You do not need a stitch."
"Okay, thank you!"

Doctor 2 "The Plastic Surgeon"
"Have you been drinking?" 
(Uh, is the Pope Catholic?)  "Yes"
"Okay, apply pressure and elevate for 5 minutes."
"No permanent damage?  No reconstructive surgery needed?"
"No."

Doctor 3 "The Orthopedic Surgeon" 
 "Let me take a look.  Yes, you definitely need your leg amputated at the knee.  Or maybe it is cancer.  Yes, definitely cancer."
"Awe shoot.  Can I still get a pedicure?  Oh wait!  Look at my blood.  It is hot pink!  I am so fancy!"

Washington, DC

For Matt and Kristy's wedding, we flew into DC and spent one day there.  We had lunch with Amy and walked around Georgetown for a little bit.  We came across a street we thought Gracie would love.

After that, we headed over to the Smithsonian museums.  We stopped to take a picture at the White House.

And Kevin insisted that I get his picture in front of the back of the Treasury building.  He loves finance.

Here I am pretending to be the boss.  Please appreciate the fact that I took a respectful picture.  The other people there did not.

Giant Hippo.

We had a wonderful dinner at a great restaurant with my parents and my Uncle Greg who works for the Secretary of Education.  It was so interesting to hear his stories about working for the federal government.

Friday AM, we got up early and walked to some monuments.  The reflecting pool in front of the Washington monument is all torn up, so that was a little disappointing.  Kevin and I agree that we cannot wait to take the kids to DC when they are older,  there is so much for them to see. 

After a few hours we headed out to the airport, picked up our rental car, Mark and Maura and made the scenic drive to Altoona, PA.

What time is it?

I have no idea. 

My watch broke last week. 

Let's ask Kevin. 

Oh wait, his was stolen at the gym last Christmas.

So now we are both in the market for new watches.

Since I need time to process any purchase over $100 dollars, I bought this cute one to wear while I search the internet for the perfect watch at the perfect price.

It super sporty and fun.  Just like me.

A bad thing about working from home

So we have a diseased tree in our backyard. 

I am secretly thrilled that I now have an excuse to get all three of these eyesores taken down.  I am not secretly thrilled about paying for tree removal or the re-landscaping that will be required.   Ah, the joys of home ownership. 

Anyways, last Friday I got up and got right to work that morning at 7am.  I didn't stop to brush my hair, get dressed or wipe yesterday's mascara off of my face.  I was a sight.  And not a pretty one. 

I kept right on working in this condition until 11am.  When I hear, ding dong! 

Crap!  I totally forgot I had an appointment with the tree service man.  I had no choice but to answer the door looking like a mess.  I had on my ratty, faded, rose print, 15 year old bathrobe, which is a size L and looks more than a bit ridiculous.  Not sure why I couldn't have had on my new one from Anthropologie?  But really that wouldn't have helped me. 

I also had on pajama pants, a ratty old t-shirt and stained old man slippers. Here is a little peek...

The poor tree man didn't know what he was walking into when he rang that doorbell.  I proceeded to apologize profusely, make awkward and poorly timed jokes about my appearance, and ask lots of questions displaying my lack of tree knowledge and basic social skills.

Now here comes the funny part.  This guy looks familiar to me.

And that would be because he lives a few blocks away from me. 

And his kids go to the same daycare as Grace and Andrew. 

So lucky me (or lucky him), I will see him again.  Fabulous. 

I cannot decide if this is more embarrassing than the time I wore the towel on my back out to dinner with Maggie.

Grace and I had been playing superhero or something and I forgot to take it off.  I proceeded to eat dinner with my back to a crowded bar with a dishtowel hanging out of my collar. 

I could give you a whole litany of excuses on why this happened...I was 7 months pregnant!  My shirt had a hood on it so I couldn't feel it!  I blame my mom!  I blame Kevin! 

Bottom line.  I am a dork.

Hey, at least I can laugh at myself.  And you can too.

Upgrade!

Kevin and I have been carrying around these sweet phones for the past few years.  Notice how Kevin's has a busted speaker.  Nice.

We have never had the "newest or coolest" phone.  Come to think of it, we have never had the "newest and coolest" anything really.    (Oh, except for my minivan.  When I got that baby in 2008 I was pretty darn excited...dvd player, auto sliding doors, countless cup holders to hold sippy cups with spoiled milk...top notch really.)  We don't care.  We always just walked into the Sprint store when one of our phones had lost so much battery power that it was no longer practical to use, and said, "What phones are free with a new contract?"  

Why?

• I was always scared that I would get a new fancy phone, and one of my kids would drop it in the toilet and I would have to pay $600 to get a new one.  (We don't buy insurance stuff like phones, electronics, etc.)
• Smartphones are expensive.  Kevin and I are frugal. 
• I really never leave my house so why would I need a phone with internet? 
• I don't use my phone at all.  There is about a 1 in 10 chance of me actually answering my cell phone. 

However, our contract is up next month and we are going to be getting new phone numbers and new phones, well not just phones, SMARTphones. Exciting times at the Malone house!

You see, lately I have been wishing I had the internet on the rare occasion that I am out and about. Usually to look up where the closest Starbucks is, but whatever. 

We were thinking of just getting iPhones, but we already have iPod touches and an iPad.  iPhones would be iOverkill. 

Plus, I will still assert that I am a PC girl, and I do not like Apple. Apple is for anti-estabilishment hipsters.  You know, people like my in-laws (Mike and Jane - just making sure you are still reading :) )  Don't know where I got that idea from, but its how I think.  I am not a hipster.  I am not even cool.  And I like establishment. 

So we got these LG phones.  They have been sold out everywhere for forever but the RadioShack in West Allis had some in stock.  Lucky us.  Now we are cool.  Sort of.  Let me know if you want my number.   Just don't call me.  I won't answer.  Because I have no idea how to work this thing.

By the way, Grace got this new cell phone for her birthday, it looks quite similar to my old phone. I mean really, they should have been paying me to carry around that pink thing.

errr, Happy St. Patrick's Day?

I came across this cute picture of Gracie and could not resist posting.

This was taken at Irish Fest 2009.  Don't ask why I was at Irish Fest when I was 9 months pregnant...I have no recollection of agreeing to that outing.

You all know I hate St. Patrick's Day. It annoys me.

Ireland looks beautiful and I would like to go there one day.

Irish people are nice and super good looking (my husband made me say that).

Potatoes are good, especially with cheese.

Green is my favorite color (seriously).

Shamrock shakes are fabulous.

But, I didn't grow up celebrating it, maybe that is why I am not a fan? Plus, I am sure you can imagine my opinion on binge drinking in "honor" of a Saint. Enough said.

What really annoys me is when people say, "Bridget Malone, what a fine Irish name!" or "Bridget Malone, you must be so Irish!" or if someone uses the word "lass" in the same sentence as my name...or in my presence really. And if they top it off with a lame Irish accent...cringe... it sounds like nails on a chalkboard to me. But I just smile and say, "Oh, I am married so that is my husband's name."

Kevin - That is how much I love you! I was willing to take on the most Irish sounding of names. Or maybe it was to get rid of a name even I have a hard time pronouncing?

how my brain works - toilet seals

I am totally neurotic.  You all know this.  Here is an example of how my brain works. 

When our contractor tore out the bathroom, he mentioned that the toilet had a slow leak.  No huge damage to the subflooring, so it wasn't a big deal.  He just mentioned it. 

Because I am always trying to learn more about how plumbing works (Seriously, it is interesting.  Did you know sinks needed venting???  Fascinating.),  I asked him, "How would I know when a toilet has a leak?  What did I miss?"  His answer, "You wouldn't necessarily know if it was a small leak." 

This type of information is extremely alarming to me.  The unknown = scary.

You see, I have four toilets in my house.  If that one was leaking and I didn't know it, how do I know if the other ones are leaking too? 

What if they are slowly leaking and damaging all the flooring, but the leaks are not showing up on the ceiling below?
What if one day a toilet falls through the ceiling? 
What if we need to get the floors and subfloors fixed and it costs one million dollars? 

Surely, I would then kick myself for not having gotten them re-sealed when I was informed that one of them was leaking.  Surely that was a warning sign from the gods of responsible home maintenance!

So I asked my contractor, "If this were your house, would you check out these toilet seals?"  He smiled, laughed a little and said, "Of course!" 

The contractor will be back in a few weeks to re-seal my toilets with the "rolls royce" of wax toilet seals.  Until then, every time someone flushes I can just hear a little trickle of water leaking down into my flooring and plaster ceilings. 

My mind is a scary place.

new work outfit

I just found out this week that I am going to be able to continue my job-share for the near future with my wonderful co-worker Carrie. Yeah! 

I celebrated by buying myself a new work outfit (I didn't need an excuse, just a way to rationalize the purchase).  Since I work from home, a work outfit can be anything I want it to be.  How awesome is that?

I have been hearing how awesome lululemon stuff is for months now, so I thought I would give it a try.  I bought a black scoop neck tank and the "groove" pant.  The sales girl told me that people call them the "ass pants" because they lift up your booty and make it look good.  Uh, sold!  

Kevin came with me to the store, sat on the couch in the waiting area, told me everything looked great, and didn't say anything when he saw the price.  Kevin - You are wonderful. 

 

Bonus - The bag they sent me home with will be great for the kid's breakfasts I pack on day care days.

a day in our life

6:45 am - I wake up and get in the shower.
6:50 am - Kevin brings Andrew in to the bathroom and he peaks around the shower curtain and whines at me.
7:00-8:00am - Fix 3 breakfasts, lunch for Kevin, make coffee, watch Curious George for 10 minutes, fold laundry, put away laundry, do the dishes and sweep the floor...all while Andrew follows me around and whines.  Andrew gets Tylenol. Watch the news with a ton of teasers for the upcoming Charlie Sheen interview, that guy is crazy! 

9:45-10:15am - Music class.
10:30-11:00am - Snack time and a visit from JuJu.  I do the dishes and sweep the floor.
11:35 - I sit down for 5 minutes and page through a magazine.
12:00 - Grace eats lunch.  I do the dishes and sweep the floor.
1:00pm - Grace takes a rest while I iron, pack for our trip, pay bills, check my work email, and talk with our contractor about our new toilet paper holder.  Almost everything in the bathroom is polished chrome, but this is polished nickle...shhhhh, don't tell anyone.

2:45pm - Andrew wakes up and needs to eat.  I do the dishes and sweep the floor. 
3:30pm - We head out to BuyBuyBaby (most obnoxious name for a store, ever).  This was the conversation we had in the car:
Me: "Grace, this Saturday you have a birthday party and you are going to learn to do yoga.  So you will need to wear leggings, not a dress." 
Grace: "I know how to do yoga.  I do my own kind of yoga."
Me: "You will need to listen to the teacher and follow the class." 
Grace: "Mom, will there be yoga at the party?!"
Me: "Yes."
Grace:"Mom, the party is going to be sooooo fun."
4:15pm - We get home and the kids want another snack.  I find Grace laying pretzels on the floor and ask why.  "Baby Andrew likes to pick them up and eat them off the floor."  Where do they pick these things up? 

I do the dishes and sweep the floor.
5:00pm - More packing for our trip and I spend about 20 minutes torturing Andrew by making him try on various sized rompers.  Including this one that was Uncle Mark's:

It is excellent attire for a Princess tea party.

6:00pm - Dinner.  This is what we had....

fruit salad and roasted tomato pasta.  It is a fabulous recipe, and soooo easy.  I will post a recipe later. 

Gracie cuts Andrew's fruit for him....so cute.

Of course Grace would only eat buttered noodles, but she said "Mom, this dinner is excellent!"  I love her.  Kevin does the dishes and sweeps the floor. 

6:30pm - Bathtime for the kids.  No pooping in the tub!  Yes!

7:00pm - Andrew goes to bed.  Kevin and I install a roman shade in our new bathroom.  The drill bit gets stuck and things get a bit tense.   Then we get the shade up, and I spend the next 15 minutes steaming out the wrinkles. 

7:30pm - "Mom, why are your lips red?  It's NOT Valentine's Day." (I just had some carmex on, my lips are so chapped they look like I have red lipstick on.)
7:35pm - Grace throws a fit because I will only read her one book.
7:40pm - Grace is snoring.
7:41pm - This is me. 

This is how I look most of the time.  My darling husband said, "Wow, the flash really washes you out."  At first I thought he was being rude, now I realize that was a compliment.  So I made this picture black and white...much less offensive.

Put it on your blog

While my sister Amy was living in Asia, I started this blog to keep her up to date on the kids.  You see, I am HORRIBLE at keeping in touch with people.  This is a serious fault of mine. I know.  So I thought a blog would be the best way to let others know what is going on the Malones. 

Now that I have been doing this for a year, I will admit, I like it.  I guess this is a 'hobby' of mine. 

Keep reading this blog and you will learn my other exciting hobbies.  Just kidding.  My hobbies are changing diapers and cleaning. 
Also, I must give credit where credit is due.  For years, whenever I would go off on a rant about something random, Kevin would say, "Put it on your blog."  Instead of what he really wanted to say:

1. "I don't care."
2. "Stop talking during the game."
3. "Huh?  I was not paying attention to you AT ALL."
4. "You are insane."

I did not have a blog at the time, but he thought that if I blogged he would not have to listen to half of my garbage.  The fool.

Anyways, I thought I would let you know a few of my thoughts on this little hobby of mine. 

1. I do not do photo albums, baby books or any other memory keeping activity.  Each child has a box that I throw keepsakes in when I am on top of my game.  That's it.  This blog is to make up for that.  I intend to print this out every year.  Then my kids can look back at the books when they are older and think, "Wow, Mom was always crazy!"

2. My photography is sub-par.  I know. I have this nice camera but I don't know how to use it.  When I have some free time I want to take a class.  Maybe when my kids are in college.

3. Excuse the errors in my spelling and grammar, I am not dumb, but I know those mistakes make me appear like I am.  (Wait that wasn't a run-on sentence, was it???)  To be honest, I don't always have time to spell check or proof-read.  But don't worry, my mistakes do not go unnoticed.  Kevin always points them out.  He can do that because he is my husband, and he puts up with my crap.

4. It's OK if you don't find me funny.  I have a weird sense of humor.  If I seem like I am being rude or insensitive, I am probably just kidding.  You don't get "me".  It's you, not me.  Got it? 

5.  I find myself hilarious.  Those people that love me very much (Kevin and my mom) find me, "mildly amusing."  I'm at peace with that fact.  And I will continue to laugh at jokes like, "If you are an American when you go in the bathroom.  And you are an American when you leave the bathroom.  What are you when you are in the bathroom?"  European!  (Get it? You're - A - Peein')

Okay, stop laughing now.  I know, its a good one.  Yes, you can tell all your friends and pretend you made it up.

6. Finally....let me know you are reading this!  Drop me a note, write on my wall on facebook, give me a call, send me a postcard, send a smoke signal, put a comment on the blog, or sign up to be a follower.  Sometimes I feel like my mom and mother-in-law are the only ones who read this.  Which would be fine, but maybe there are more of you out there.  Anyone?  Anyone there?  Bueller? 

Plus, if I know you are a reader, then I won't accidentally make fun of you.  Or like post a picture of you picking your nose.  Or maybe I will.

cleaning supplies that make me happy

Over the years, I have heard this product mentioned as being great, but never tried it.  Until today.  Oh, happy day!

I picked it up at home depot (my new hangout) this past weekend.  I may not be a barkeeper, but this most certainly is my friend.

I spent a bit of time today (ok lets be honest, about 2 hours) scrubbing my pots and pans.  This was quite a change from my normal TV watching and bonbon eating routine.

 As you can see, my pots hang over my island on this super fancy integrated pot rack/light fixture thingamajig.

Yes, it is natural for you to be asking yourself, "Why on earth does Bridget still have that ridiculous thing hanging over her island?"  Answer:  There is no where else to put the pots.   


Anyways, they are always in plain sight.  Lately, I have noticed how shabby they look.  So I pulled out my new friend.  Once I started cleaning, I could not stop.  Until they were oh so shiny.

I thought I was done, when I remembered that I have a grill pan. 

This was a challenge.  After about 20 minutes (the other pans did not take this long) of scrubbing it looks like this.  Not perfect, but close enough.

And this made me think of the other cleaning products I love.  So besides the Method all purpose cleaner that I already endorsed, here are my other favs.... 

For my wood floors (which I must admit, never seem really, really clean...tips anyone?):

For my stainless steel dishwasher:

(See that nicely polished fingernail?  That is because I just got my quarterly manicure.  How stylish and pulled together am I?)

Plus, I really love the little housewife lady on the front, she looks so cute.

And for anything...grout, paint marks on the wall, weird stuff you come across and pray is your own filth (and not some left over disgustingness from the people who lived in the house before you):

Regrets and Confessions

I sucked you all in with the juicy title, huh?

This Saturday I went grocery shopping.  And now I regret purchasing this giant box of goldfish crackers. 

You see, my kids LOVE goldfish.  To Andrew these little fish are last year's string cheese, if you know what I mean.  This box does not fit in my weird cabinets.  So it has been on the counter.  See there I go again showing off my counters...see black AND white tiles.  So fancy!

Anyways, every time Little Buddy sees the box he starts demanding goldfish.  He has been employing the following tactics to get what he wants:

1. Pointing
2. Grunting
3. Screaming
4. Hanging on my legs
5. And my personal favorite....whining

As with the string cheese, I typically give in after saying "no" a dozen times.

And then I have happy campers. And lots of goldfish lying around my house, which get stepped on and tracked around the first floor.

In this photo Andrew is thinking "Mom is a chump." and Grace is plotting her next move. 

And now I will be sharing an embarassing secret of mine.  Sometimes when I find a dropped goldfish/cheerio/m&m (score!) (that I know is not like super old and has not been sucked on by someone other than my child), I pick it up and pop it in my mouth. 

EWWWW! 

Gross. I know. 

My logic is that then I don't have to physically take it to the garbage (where I would find a full garbage can that I would have to empty) AND it won't get stepped on and spread about.  I am trying to be efficient.  And those of you know who know me well understand that, if I am anything, I am efficient.  Plus I have full confidence that my floors are pretty clean.  So clean you can eat off of them!

Maybe this will be the start of a little segment we could call "Confessions from a Real Mom," or something equally intriguing.  I am open to suggestions.

Finally, I will leave you with this funny picture of Gracie...taken after I said "Hey Gracie, can I get a picture of just Andrew?"

By the way, on an unrelated subject, does anyone know how to remove crayon from the screen of a flatscreen tv?

If it ain't broke, don't fix it

Every year I am thrilled when all the Christmas paraphernalia gets marked 75% off and space is made on those shelves at your local grocery stores and Walgreens for ..... Necco Candy Hearts!!!!

Yesterday, I stopped at Walgreens and was thrilled to see them sitting there, waiting to be bought. And taken home.  And loved. 

At first I grabbed a small bag. Then I thought, "Who am I kidding?" and grabbed the 1 pounder.

I exercised a great deal of self control and waited a few hours to crack the bag open. Granted I am not sure what purpose that served, maybe I was just challenging myself.  Anyways, I grabbed a pink heart, popped it in my mouth and headed back to work.

As I was sitting there I realized, something tasted funny. Different. Just not right. You see the pink ones are my very favorite (followed by white, then purple, then green, then orange and finally the yellow - which are kind of gross but I would still eat them), so I know exactly how they should taste. 

By the way, did I mention I like candy?  I do.

So I went to grab a white one, because surely they couldn't change that minty formula. Well there were no whites to be found! Only this weird, new blue color.

Then, well I cannot really describe what happened, but I felt utter and profound disappointment. I was mad, yes, but I also felt a bit betrayed.

Don't they know how hard I tried to get my hands on these in July so I could have them at my wedding?

Don't they understand how everyone's best memories of Valentine's Day are when you open up a valentine and find a few of these little hearts in the envelope?

I took a look at the bag again...I didn't appear to buy some new variation on candy hearts (ie. wildberry skittles or peanut m&ms). These are just the basic candy hearts.  Hmmm....then I notice they tried to hide this from us by getting rid of the little see through window on the front of the bag!  Sneaky.

I flip the bag over and see that yellow is now lemon flavor and the blue is blue raspberry.  I am getting upset.  Mad.  Why are they trying to make these taste like fruit?

Then I see the little quip on the front "The Official Candy of Love" Whatever.  Not anymore.

I am hoping that this is just a mix up and the real ones are just not in stock yet. Or maybe Necco is trying to scare us, you know, to make us all appreciate the originals a little more? I am keeping my fingers crossed.

(For those of you who are still reading you really must not have anything else to do, huh?)

When I told Kevin about this he said 2 things:
1. Calm down.
2. I will get you some chalk to eat instead.

I am off to enjoy a glass of wine and a tootsie roll. If some high-up, big-time, all-powerful candy exec gets any ideas about changing the tootsie roll....well lets not even go there.

If I never had children....

I would have more time, money, energy.  Plus, cuter hair, nails, clothes.... 

But besides these obvious things, I would not know...

1. How challenging it is to clean smears of american cheese (or what Grace calls "That cheese I like") off of hard wood floors. 

2. That pleather ottomans taste really, really good.

3. The joy in your child's eyes when she discovers Oprah. 

I was watching one of the "Favorite Things" re-runs and Grace was immediately drawn into the excitement.

I must disclose that I am NOT a fan of Oprah.

4. How to clean crayon out of a toddler's teeth. 

Answer: You don't.

5. What happens when you give a 16 month old a tablespoon of ketchup and turn your back for 20 seconds.

All of these lessons were learned in a span of 24 hours.