33 Years

This year my parents celebrated 33 years. It's a long time and although every year is significant I wanted to do something special for their gift. I found this idea online and if I could remember from where, I would link it. But alas, that was months ago and I do good to remember what happened yesterday. I put together a photo album of a comparison of photos from when we were young to photos of us now. I grabbed some old photos of us and then when both brothers were in town for Thanksgiving, we re-enacted them.
Once we had our re-enactments finished, and edited by my brother, I took those, and the originals to Walgreen's where I scanned and uploaded all the pictures and placed them into a leather bound album. Although uploading and arranging at Walgreen's took forever, it was a pretty seamless process. The whole thing, that included 20 pictures, was put onto a nice album, and ready in an hour. Yay Walgreen's Photo!
Here are the before and after shots that my dad took and put side by side. I recommend this to anyone looking for a fun and unique idea for their parents, grandparents, etc. We had so much fun making this, and my parent's reaction was priceless. That video is also included.

Enjoy

Prison Break

A few weeks ago the kids were having a sleep over at my parents house. Soon after R had been put down for his nap, my mother heard a loud thud and ran upstairs to find him inside the bedroom knocking to be let out.

I knew it wouldn't be long for him to start climbing out of his bed. The kid is a climber, in every sense of the word. He climbs on top of tables, back of the toilet, and anything else that he can get a leg up on. What he lacks in stature he makes up for in gusto. Truly a monkey. Escaping his crib was inevitable it was only a matter of when.

B on the other hand, sweet gentle B, she was nearly 3 before we even took her out of a crib and into a toddler bed. She never climbed or even thought about the possibility of escape. She was always content on the ground, in her bed, etc. Falling out of bed was never my worry with her.

What do you do when your 18 month old climbs out of bed? I'm not sure about you but denial is my solution. The mentality that just because he did it once doesn't mean he'll do it again. Of course this doesn't work and he did climb out later that same day at my parents house and then once again a few weeks later at our house. Mind you it's not so much as climb out as it is fall out. Head first. From 5 feet up. He's lucky he hasn't gotten a concussion.

It's been a few weeks since he's last attempted flight so I thought "ok, it was just a fluke." You're thinking "Learn your lesson, Becca. It's not just a river."

Today I put him down for his morning nap and after about 5 min. of whining and tired cries, he was quiet. For about 3 min. Then he was screaming. I heard a back door close through the monitor and immediately thought, "crap, the dogs must have pushed his door closed/open and he heard it and now he's angry because the dogs are in his room and he was almost asleep." So I headed towards his room to see what the door noise was about and there he was walking towards me with a smile on his face like "I got out and opened the door all by myself."

Keep in mind the kid doesn't even nap in his crib, he naps in a pack n play. These things are made with extremely high sides and low set mattresses so that they can be used for bigger kids.

So now what, you ask?

I think I'll stick to denial. Surely this won't happen again...

7 years

Sometimes I just get this overwhelming desire to write. I used to love writing, and in school when it's a requirement, well, I welcomed the assignments. I was good at it too. Perhaps it was my own biased opinion, but I always thought that I had a knack for using words, expressing myself, getting a point across. But I don't have to write anymore. And I don't usually have time to do it for fun. This tiny place here amongst the great vastness that is the world wide web is the only chance I get to put my creative juices to good use and most often, I don't seize the opportunity to sit down and type when I should. Life just tends to get in the way.
But not tonight. Tonight, my kids are vegging out while I make dinner. Carlos has been in meetings all day and still won't be home for a few hours.
It's been one of those days that while not horrible, it hasn't exactly been perfect. Neither kid napped this afternoon. This usually means that right about now they are losing it as I should be, leaving all of us counting down the minutes until the sun dips low enough for me to convince them that it's bed time....
No, today has not been perfect. But to my surprise they are holding it together. It could be all the food and snacks I keep throwing at them. Or perhaps the gods have decided to smile down upon me this evening, knowing that it is the second day in a row where I have been home all day with the kids and Carlos has had 12 hour obligations to tend to keeping him away. Whatever the reason for the nice behavior, I'll take it and avoid asking to many questions.
Today is a day where a dinnertime cocktail was eagerly anticipated. Today is also a day that I appreciate more than usual that I am not alone. No, I have this man in my life that helps keeps me grounded, and holds me accountable. He reminds me in his own ways that I am beautiful, and that he loves me more and more with every passing year.
7 years ago today I committed myself to him. I looked into his eyes and held my breath and he committed the same to me. It's been a bumpy 7 years. We've laughed, and cried, and yelled and screamed. We've loved, and  giggled and reveled in the beauty that is our two children. We've ached together and separately and we've infuriated one another. It's been 7 long years, and 7 short years all at the same time. But this man, this man that continually loves me despite my short comings, despite my temper, he makes it all worth it. As I hope and pray that I do for him.
Carlos, I love you and am blessed to have you as my one and only

***** Happy Anniversary*****

Brotherly Love

I'm sitting in the living room of my parents house. My brother is in town and it's a Wednesday morning. Normally Wednesday mornings consist of delivering my children to their respective child care and then heading home to work. I spend about 5 hours at the computer transcribing, blogging, video editing, etc. Then I head out to pick child up A, come home and await the arrival of child B. Wednesday's are not spent sitting around, drinking coffee, catching up with family. Few days are, unfortunately. But today is special. Today I've decided to postpone the work load for a few hours in order to just sit. Sit and love on my brother whom I get to see not nearly often enough.
Life is so much different than it was 10,12 years ago when we were both in high school, living at home, sharing a bathroom, and taking our time together for granted. I'm not missing those days but I greatly appreciate them. I enjoy where I am in life. I enjoy my husband and the commitment we have to one another in bad times and good. I enjoy my children and relish in the mundane day to day activities. I enjoy the grown up relationship I have with my parents. Yet I'm grateful that I can still "come home" when it's been a long week.
You couldn't have paid me to sit and chat deeply about religion, politics, and love with my either of my brothers when we were teenagers. This place we have come to, both individually and as siblings, amazes me in it's complexity and in it's simplicity.
He has this girlfriend, whom I adore. Being married at the ripe age of 21, long before either of my brothers were ever romantically involved with anyone, it's great to see that 7 years later they both are grown, both madly in love with amazing women, both living adult lives and finally being able to relate to me on that level.
We've all come a long way. I'm blessed, I realize that. So much of this blog centers around my adoration of my children, husband and family. But it's hard to focus on anything else when they are truly my life's biggest blessings.
I wish this amount of emotional respect and love on everyone. The chance to grow up with parents, siblings, a family that shows you love through their actions and through their words. What kind of world would this be if we spoke more love to one another? What would today's children be like if every parent turned off the tv, stopped folding laundry, and cooking dinner to hug their bored kid? What kind of world would this be if we made the effort to constantly tell each other how important they are to us.
I don't think I'd recognize this place if this is what it resembled. I suppose this must be what Heaven is like. A place, a feeling, a state of being drenched and cloaked in deep, meaningful, selfless love. At least, I sure hope it is.

Godiva Giveaway

No, I'm not doing a give away but Chicnsavvyreviews.net is and I'm hoping to win.

So much to do

With my kids napping (well one napping and one crying in hopes to be rescued from his crib) and the hubs out on a man date, I have this underlying urge to get up and be productive. I wanted to try making yogurt today. There are some clothes that need to be ironed and some that need folding, there's a kitchen that hasn't seen a broom in a week, and oh yea, it's probably a good time to take a shower considering it's 3:30.


I often find myself with no time to do anything, let alone take care of my personal hygiene. Moments like this are few and far between. Usually those few times that I do try to carve out 10 min. of uninterrupted me time, get inevitably interrupted.


Take Thursday for example. This is always a crazy day because after I drop the kids off at school, I have 2 hours of work that I do for my dad in his home, and then I'm off to West County for two Spanish tutoring gigs. As soon as the second gig ends, I race back to my neighborhood to retrieve my children with not even a minute to spare. It's always a packed crazy day and getting us ready and out the door is never without it's yelling, tears, frustrations, etc. This past Thursday topped the proverbial cake. We were at risk of running late, again, and had 10 minutes before we had to be in the car pulling out of the drive way. I still needed a quick shower. So with the kids nicely and quietly playing in their bedroom, I thought, "yes, here's my chance. It's now or never." As soon as the water came on I heard a "crash...*scream*...mami....*scream*!!!" I stuck my head out of the shower and opened the bathroom door to see into their room and to my horror saw their 4 foot tall dresser laying face down. I jumped out soaking wet, and ran into their room where I found B trapped underneath. I lifted up the dresser and assessed to make sure nothing was broken or bleeding.


Thank God the kid was fine. I should have grabbed her up and held her for like 10 min just cherishing her sweet and uninjured-self. However... I was so mad at her it was all I could do to keep myself from screaming. I had told her before I had gone into the shower, 3 times, not to climb on the drawers of her dresser. I had told her that the drawer could break, that she could get hurt, and that it was not safe. I had even handed her a stool to use to climb on to get whatever it was that she wanted, down. 3 times. 3 TIMES! And then the kid goes and does it anyways not only throwing clothes all over the room, but the potted plant that was on top was now on the floor and everything was covered in dirt!


Once I got her unpinned and the dresser back up and done yelling, I went back to the shower for like a minute and a half. I dressed, grabbed our stuff, shoved the crazies out the door and left the mess.


To my relief the mess was still there when we got home 7 hours later. There's nothing like coming home to dirt all over your carpets.

5 A.M

5am is early. If you don't often wake up at the crack of dawn, allow me to enlighten you... No one else is awake. Not your next door neighbor, nor the neighbor's dog. The birds are barely chirping and you can sure as hell believe the trash man hasn't made his rounds yet. However, in a small house in the north-central suburbs of St. Louis a young boy and his sleep deprived mother are out on their, what is now routinely, morning walk. OK I lied. There are other people up. About 3. That's how many other walkers I count daily when we pass through our 2 mile loop around the neighborhood. Note-they are all late/middle aged, probably menopausal, therefor female, and probably are only awake because their own bodies prefer it that way. I am by far the only one my age.with a kid.walking at that un-godly hour.

Why are we walking you ask? Well, R prefers getting his exercise in as the sun rises. He enjoys seeing it peak over the horizon and pop through the morning misty clouds. He enjoys watching the bunnies scurry away as they realize that morning is here and it's time to head back to the safety of their holes. He relishes in the quietness and peaceful aura of no cars, no street noises, no nothing. Just him and his stroller, breathing in the fresh undisturbed morning air.....

No really. We walk because for last 4 weeks he has been waking up at 5. He only is willing to sit in bed with me for 30 min. watching cartoons.  B and the hubs sleep till 7:30. Taking him on a walk is the only way to ensure quietness so that the other half of this family can get a decent nights sleep and is ready for their day. R takes his first nap at 9am (of course). I don't get one. So by 10am he's in great spirits and rested. I'm on my last leg. It's been a long 4 weeks...

(Dancing with my headphones at the end of our walk)

Photo Op

I mean who doesn't love an adorable 3 year old on a giant tortoise??

Music is In Our Bones

My family is musical. Anyone that knows us as family unit will tell you that. My dad began his influence with us early with singing, guitar playing, etc. My brothers both picked up and mastered the guitar while still in high school. They both are extremely talented and I wish I had their instrumental capabilities. They also both use their gifts on a regular basis through church, worship leading, performance venues, etc. I, on the other hand use my talent solely to entertain and put to sleep my cranky children.
Mondo, the older of the two recently raised  money to release his first, professionally recorded EP. I'm super proud of him as is anyone that knows of his love and passion for song writing and performing. The kids and I will often put "Bobo" on and jam out. (His music is not really classified as "jam" music, but when you're 3/1.5 it's all the same.)

Blenders and All Things Noisy

A few months ago I noticed R having a strange reaction to the noise of my blender. B eventually started copying him because she saw how funny I thought it was. But really, he does this to anything super noisy; the blender, blowdryer, food processor, etc. no joke.

A is for...

Animals Shmanimals

One not too hot Wednesday a few weeks back the kids and I took to the park with Nani to check out a festival. (I don't recall the name of the park or the name of the festival. It must have been during those weeks that R was waking up at 5 every.single.morning)

So here's my bits having no fear at the petting zoo. I'd write more about our afternoon, but as you can see from above, I'm lucky I remembered how to get home later that day.

Hail-Yea!

So about 2 months ago a giant storm rolled through the mid-west and brought with it baseball sized hail. Unfortunately our home and cars were in it's direct path and therefore recieved extensive damage. Carlos' car, a 2012 Hyundai Sonata, totally paid off, was not totaled but was damaged to the tune of close to 10grand. Insurance check was received quickly, and repairs took over three weeks. That sucked but the car looks as good as new now. My car, a 2007 Mazda 3, which I loved, was totaled. Boo. So we turned it into the insurance company took our check and purchased a new/used 2011 Hyundai Sonata.
"Wait, time out. Whats that? You own two Hyundai Sonata's? You're that couple? "
Yes and no. Mine's red. His is black. They're not identical. Phew, we're still cool.
To be honest it wasn't planned. It's not like we said, "hey now we can go buy a second Sonata and be matching!" We had to get something new, something that was bigger than my tiny Mazda, fuel efficient, and not a mini van. Like I said, I'm still cool. I'm not ready to be the mom in the mini van and hopefully won't ever be.
***Disclaimer: To all those women out there driving minivans - more power to you. You are lucky to be able to pull it off and enjoy the extra space, ability to separate your children to two whole different sections of the back seat, and not have the back of your seat kicked constantly while you're driving! Seriously, I envy you. I just can't join you. I'm sure you understand***

Anyways, I'm happy with our purchase, and red really is my color. Saying goodbye to my Mazda, the first brand new car I ever owned, was rough. I loved that little, speedy car and had a bittersweet farewell as I watched the tow truck drive off with it.

Here's to hoping somebody purchased it, removed the dents and is now enjoying it as much as I did.

P.S. If that person is you, I apologize for the cheerios, spilled milk stains, dog hair and lip gloss splotches covering the seats, floors and dash. Cleaning it out was not a requirement.

A day worth celebrating

My husband of almost 7 years hit a milestone birthday last week. His 30th was a good one, thanks to his lovely wife. He got to spend it with some great friends, play some Frisbee golf, eat good food and enjoy the late night sky line. It was all topped off with an overnight stay at the Crowne Plaza, thanks to wonderful parents that kept our rug-rats for the night. I threw him a surprise party by inviting his in town friends and a few of his college buddies from Cape into town for an afternoon of playing in the park. Then we all headed home to get cleaned up before meeting at a nice restaurant for dinner followed by drinks on the roof top bar. It really was a great night. We haven't just the two of us taken a vacation/trip for nearly 2 years, so the fact that we got to stay at a hotel without the kids was icing on the cake. It was so worth the splurge and i'm convinced that nights like those do wonders for any couples relationship. A chance for just one night, not to be a parent was just what this mama needed.
Carlos' sister and friend were in town for the party as well and she always brings the good times with her so we were guaranteed a night of fun.
I can't complain about any of it. The next morning we had his sister and friend, his mom and Bela meet us at our hotel for breakfast before they headed back to Chicago, where there live. We then took a dip with B in the pool before checking out and heading to my parents to pick up R. It was crazy busy, crazy fun and perfectly wonderful.

The bar has been set but he still has 2 years to plan my surprise 30th which is good because he's going to need it... Better get started, buddy.

Terrible 1's, 2's and 3's

Sometimes my kids push my buttons.
Like when it's raining outside and we have to stay inside all day, and one of them thinks it would be fun to scream. So the other one thinks "hey, that sounds good, I think I'll join in". So then they're both screaming for no reason, loudly, while the door is open and my neighbors think "what is she doing to those children?!" Yes, sometimes my kids push my buttons.
Or when my18 month old thinks it's the best ever to go and take the phone off the hook and push it's buttons, repeatedly and smiling while doing it because he knows he's not supposed to. He's thinking "i'm going to keep doing this until I'm old enough to really be punished, because for now all you can do is remove me and tell me 'no'." We're lucky the police or china has not been called yet.
Bela being her 3 year old self likes to try to get R to do what she's doing. This usually involves a lot of yelling, bossing, pushing, pulling and straight up body slamming him into submission. It's great, but really it's not. He starts crying, she gets in trouble, I get mad because she thinks that once her time out is over she should start the terrifying process again. Clearly my parenting and disciplining skills rock.
I mean whoever came up with the term "terrible two's" clearly had never been around a 3 year old before. Or maybe mine's just a late bloomer. Maybe we had so few issues with 2 because she's slow. I hope this isn't the case, but it makes me wonder.
And R, again, clearly the inventor of that saying didn't have a son like mine. One that pushes the limits every chance he can get. Who climbs on every surface with anything that has what is remotely close to a step or a rung. At this point, I can't wait for 2. I can only hope that with increased communication, attention span and listening capabilities, our lives will all be a little less psychotic.

Shhhh.... Don't make any sudden movements. This is the first time my house has been this still in 3 years.

Lessons and Growth

I'm feeling pensive this afternoon. I'm sure that none of the following with come out like I want it to. It never works out that way. From time to time I think back about people in my life who have impacted me. People that aren't family members, parents siblings, grandparents. I feel like those individuals are obvious. It's no surprise that from my mother I've learned patience and creativity. Or that from my father I've learned what unconditional love is and grown a passion for music. These are a given.

The unique examples are people that I've known through my life that are not related by blood. I'm sure everyone has people that fit this mold in their own journey's.

For example, my friend Katie introduced me to dance, not formal ballet, but just for the fun of it, windows rolled down dancing-in-the-car type of dance.

I remember once someone introducing me to mountains. It was long after I'd first visited them but for the first time I was really being shown their powerful presence. That was a good day.

These are the types of memories that I cherish

I remember reading a bedtime story to a little girl nearly 10 years ago. Giving her a light kiss on the forehead and thinking "this is perfection". She's grown now, but she taught me to find peace in a nightly routine. I remember yelling at a young boy for being disobedient, bringing myself nearly to tears because of my lack of patience for his shenanigans. This was a long time ago but that experience and the handful like them that followed taught me self control when dealing with a determined youthful resilience. And I remember watching a teenager that thought she was ready to be grown when in reality she still had so much growing to do. I remember leaving that day reminding myself how being young isn't a bad thing. In fact it's a blessing. It's a gift that we only get for a few short years, and then it's over. We become adults, responsible for other people, responsible for ourselves. We have to make decisions about things we know nothing about. We have to behave acceptably and say the right things. Yes, youth in a gift. One that should be encouraged to retain as long as possible.

These lessons and so many like them are ones that have molded me into the wife, mother, professional and woman that I am.

To all those that have shaped me, I hope you know who you are, and I thank you. Without your lessons, I would be a mess.

So Far

This is how we're celebrating our holiday weekend. Lots of fun.

A walk

As the spring turns into hot, hot summer, it becomes more and more apparent how big my baby girl is getting. Instead of taking the stroller, she insisted on walking the dog. So R rode solo and B did her best to maneuver a dog weighing more than she does.

Rules for Survival

(Stolen from: http://www.modernparentsmessykids.com/2012/04/poyel-more-on-our-daily-routines.html)

This is my goal as a mom (note: #2 is pretty weak. I'd make this more like a couple of hours)

....I better get started

Ughh to Being Three

3 

Unfortunately this is only round 1. In a year and a half I'll be repeating this stage with R. B has hit 3 fast and hard. She cries/whines about everything and nothing.
She's turned into a bossy girl, which despite popular belief, is not cute or funny.
She thinks that listening is optional. This kid was super agreeable until a few weeks ago. Now it's "no mommy" or "I can't" or "I don't want to". Seriously if I weren't a better parent her butt would be a lot redder than it is. She seems to have inherited a bit of OCD from Carlos. I can't emphasize enough that this quality trait does not come from me. Things have to be a certain way. If they're not how she likes them she gets upset and whiny. It's the best.
 So you don't think I spend all day everyday waiting for bedtime to roll around just to rid myself of my frizzy haired monster, perhaps I should point out the silver lining to this age. Her vocab is huge. She can tell me how she feels and talk to me about things she wants or doesn't want. She can use descriptions when talking about something or someone. It really is refreshing considering this is a kid that had very little to no vocab at the age of 2.5. She plays by herself which is great. It's not "mommy, come play with me" anymore. She loves bugs. OK not bugs, but caterpillars (which she calls petepillars and I've decided to never correct this mispronunciation because it's so adorable) and worms. She talks about them non-stop and anytime we're outside this is what she wants me to help her hunt for. I love that this kid will get dirty and touch slimy things. I know it won't always be that way but for now, i'm loving it!
She loves her new rain boots and puddle jumping. And what's cuter than a toddler in rain boots....?
And finally, she loves her father. She can't get enough play time and silliness with him. It makes my heart melt to watch her need him and want him in ways that only a child with a loving father would.
A few nights ago we were sitting in bed and Carlos was talking to Bela and told her "Bela I made you." and she looked at him and said "No, papi, God made me." That He did my dear, that He did.

(Photo by Madison Martin)

Hail

My house has the mixed scent of freshly baked sweet potato bread and just brewed coffee. My kids are playing nicely but separately. B is painting at the kitchen table and R is working on chasing plastic golf balls around the house with his clubs. In a quick glance you could say that so far it's been a good start to our week....

What you can't see is the damage and frustration that came from this weekends hail storm. In our garage is parked one brand new Hyundai Sonata with a near shattered windshield and 6 dozen golf ball-base ball size dents. In the parking lot of the hubby's work is my loved and in otherwise perfect condition 07 Mazda with almost the same description in damage. It's a bit less cracked which why it is the one being driven and not the Sonata.

The storm rolled in fast and fierce on Sat. around 5pm. The kids and I were at a party with my MIL. We could see the giant hail balls hitting down in the yard. Admittedly they were gigantic and for a storm lover like myself, quite fascinating. However it was the sound that stuck out the most. It wasn't just that common noise that hail makes when hitting the roof or the pavement. There was this extra resonance that followed the usual clinking of the ice chunks. Once the hail stopped and we were able to step outside to view the damage we realized what that sound was. Broken Glass. The force of the storm and ridiculous size of hail cracked, dented and shattered almost all the windshields of the vehicles parked outside. To see dents on your car from hail is one thing, but to have your entire windshield sprawling with lines of cracks brings down a whole other level of anger.

But that's the thing about storms. There is really no point in getting angry. I mean with whom are you going to be angry? Yourself for leaving your car outside? That's often unavoidable, as it was in my case. Angry at God for causing storms?...That's just stupid. Mad again at yourself for even owning a car that's now going to cost you a few hundred dollars on new windshields and dent repair?....Again, stupid. There's nothing to be done, other than, if you were smart enough to fork over the extra dough for full coverage, wait for your insurance adjuster to come and survey the damages so you can get your repairs done and get back to driving without fear of the whole glass panel shattering in on top of you.

C'est la vie.

e...x...h...a...u...s...t...e...d

I mean seriously. When I say that I over committed myself to planning and executing my daughter's third birthday party, I'm completely understating the reality of the situation. I've worked day and night for six days or so in making things perfect for her big day. I made table decorations, hand painted goody bags, individual portions of home made chocolate covered popcorn, tutus and capes for party favors, and the list goes on. I picked a menu for this party of apps that were way more trouble than they were worth for a three year old. I made cupcakes and butter cream icing from scratch as well as ballerina cupcake toppers. I went all out. Or at least it felt like it. The biggest flaw in my elaborate party plan was that I wasn't hosting it in my own home. I had to transport all of the decorations and food 7.5 miles away to a county park that we had rented out for the festivities. We've used this park two years now and I love it for kids birthday parties. But having to get all of my stuff there turned out to be so stinking stressful. I kept telling myself that my efforts were going to be worth it and that it was going to make my little ballerina's 3rd party a memorable one. In the end though, it went off as any other kids's birthday party would. People ate the food, the kids played on the playground, we sang happy birthday, ate cupcakes, opened presents and then sent everyone home.
Sure people commented on how nice the food was, the party favors creative, and goody bags, but i'm not sure it was all worth my effort. On our way to the party i looked at the hubs and asked him if he was upset that i was so stressed out and his reply was "you're just not much fun to be around when you're like this". Yikes.
So with that in mind i've created a list of criteria that warrant me going crazy whilst party planning.

1. If it's in my own home
2. If it's to celebrate someone that is going to be old enough to remember it 6 months later
3. If I'm getting paid to plan

That's it folks. So, if you're thinking to yourself "man I really like how well planned or put together Becca's daughters 3rd birthday party was. Perhaps I should ask her to help me plan one myself," ... Be prepared to be charged.

On that note i'm off to do nothing for the next 5 days. If you need me I'll be in a hot tea and crappy TV show induced coma ignoring my children and my wifely responsibilities.

Peace Out

Bela Nuggets

1. While looking at the story of Daniel and the Lions den, B pointed to the picture of the lion and said "is this Simba's friend?

2.Today presented itself with more than one timeout. When Carlos arrived home B talked about her timeouts a lot. Tonight during her prayer she interrupted me to mention her timeouts. I responded with "yes, you had a lot of time outs today but tomorrow we're going to have a good day with no time outs and you're going to be a good listener." After being tucked into bed, as I was walking out she said "thanks for the timeout's mommy."

I Love My Kids: part 1

If you haven't caught on by now then there's no hope for you. I've been thinking a lot lately about their emotional development. I've written before about their mental growth as they mature and learn new things. I think a lot of emphasis is put on helping our youngsters to be smart and intelligent. However lets talk a minute about the other part that really makes them who they are. (*warning, this may be long*)
I grew up with two incredible parents. They loved me unconditionally. They taught me right from wrong. They taught me responsibility at an early age. And they taught me how to find my own worth.
I have a problem with parents who focus on appearance. Let's be honest, it's not just parents. Any adult really. Beauty was always taught to me on the basis of my beauty in the Lord. God made me. Therefor I am beautiful. I rarely struggled with self image as an adolescent and even as an adult, I am secure in who I am physically. Do I try to look nice when I leave the house? Of course I do. This isn't redundant. If I was created by God, I should be expected to take care of myself and honor the body that I've been given. Regardless of my outer beauty, I am to present myself appropriately as to honor what I have.
But there is a line. We live in a society that pushes that line and continually crosses it by miles. We focus on looks, on money, and on appearance. It is what has become normal and expected in our society and it starts early. The influence we throw at kids is overwhelming. Why wouldn't they all grow up to want to spend tons of money on fancy things, wear makeup when they're 9, and look to plastic surgery in their teens? We tell little girls that princess' are role models. Fine clothes, expensive jewelry, pretty hair and perfect complexion (re: makeup) is BEAUTY. We tell boys they have to be macho. We give them army guys and knights to play with and then continue feeding the flames with images of warriors, strong athletes, etc. Is is really surprising that the suicide rate in children is higher now than it has ever been?
What happens to a 12 year old girl with a weight problem, who has never been told she's pretty, who has trouble making friends? She develops an eating disorder, becomes secluded, more distant. And that little boy who has never had natural athletic ability? All his classmates are joining the football team and laughing at him for preferring other, less popular hobbies. I'm just saying, it's no wonder. We are setting these kids up for failure.
The solution? I don't know. Can you keep your little girl away from all the Disney princess's? Probably not. And I don't think you need to. My child is surrounded by that kind of influence, and I'd be a fool to think I could protect her from it. If she wants to be a ballerina at her birthday, then ok. I will make that the best ballerina party anyone's ever seen. But at home in between the tutu's and pink cupcakes, I'm going to shower her in kisses and daily remind her how beautiful she is. Not only because lets face it, she's a doll, but because God created her unique and wonderful. She will grow up not finding her worth in the latest trends and fashions, but in a strong self image that directly relates back to being raised in a home that values who you are as a person, as a child of God, and not what you look like.
In 20 years when someone asks her how she is able to have such a positive outlook on who she is, and how she is able to be so comfortable with herself, she'll hopefully respond, "I know I'm beautiful, outside and in, regardless of what I'm wearing, regardless of what my hair and makeup look like. I'm beautiful because God made me who I am."

Happy St. Patty's Day!

Today we're celebrating with Green Yogurt! 

Yesterday we had fun partying with friends and had a blast with Irish centered games and crafts

May I present to you the two most adorable Leprechauns ever...

Excuse Me While I Get Political

(My Thoughts On Kony 2012 and its Criticizers)

I try to stay away from these types of topics because this blog is more about my life with my kids and hubs, then it is anything else. But this video has me heated. 

Not because I disagree with it though. Understand, I fully support what these guys are doing in spreading the word about Kony and doing what they can to help the world recognize him as the mongrel he truly is. But all this video sharing via FB, has brought on criticisms. This for example:

"Until you yourself are ready and willing to put your own boots on the ground in a hostile country, or actively work to support those that do, I really don't care to hear more on the subject of Kony2012. " 

Now, don't get me wrong. I thoroughly believe that if you're going to verbally support a cause, you should be willing to put some effort into it. It's all too easy for me to sit in my heated, middle class, suburbia and click on a few tabs showing my support and then calling myself a humanitarian fighting for social justice. Please, lets be realistic. But this video was produced and posted in order to create buzz. It's sole purpose is to spread the word and make this guy a household name. So by simply clicking, I'm not making my support out to be any more than it is. I'm sharing a video because I agree that this guy must be stopped. The videos producers were smart enough to know that the fastest way to get attention on a topic is by making it viral. 

People are complaining that before we go stepping over our boundaries and assist a country that we have very little political relationship to begin with, we should be focusing on the atrocities that take place in our own country. 

And to them I say: You're damn right we should!" 

But we're not. I'm not. I mean, sure, if the opportunity arises for me to step in and make a difference with a cause that is working towards making our neighborhoods safer, or our school system better, or our government less corrupt, then sign me up! But like I said, these guys are smart. They picked a subject that they are passionate about. They picked a crime that is un-ignorable by not only governments and the UN, but by anyone who hears about it. They took that passion, combined it with the severity and urgency of the need for intervention and they applied it in the best, most effective way possible. 

And to them I say: More power to you! 

This country would be a different place if more people like them created noise over domestic problems. What if every documentary producer stopped traveling overseas and stayed here to create films on our own issues! Holy Smokes! This country would be amazing. There'd be so much of that passion against things like domestic abuse, sex trade, home meth labs, bullying in schools, should I go on?  There would be some amazing laws put into effect and legislation's created to combat all the things that get swept under the rug and briefly mentioned on the 10 o'clock news. We'd be more peaceful, more healthy, better educated, and happier, right? I mean isn't that's the point of arresting Kony? To help Uganda repair what he and his organization of thugs have broken? To work at healing those effected, and working to restore Uganda to a nation that can be proud of itself?

Yea, that would be amazing if this same type of passion and effort were put towards our problems. If somebody said "I have a dream to inspire American youth in the fight against drugs, or crappy education, or bullying in schools." It's too bad that guy hasn't come along yet, at least not to the same level as the Kony 2012 group.

I don't want to really get into the deployment issue. Frankly my ignorance would offend people. I'll simply say this: I come from a family of devout veterans and I know plenty of people with loved ones deployed. Those men and women signed up to fight. Does it suck for their families? Abso-fing-lutely. But wars are going to be waged, soldiers deployed, military budgets stretched thin. Lets make sure that when we send our soldiers somewhere, it's for a battle that we support, that we believe in, that we want fought and conquered as quickly and effectively as possible. (Did I offend you? Crap! See, I warned you)

My point? Instead of criticizing this movement and the "viral laziness" of people who think they're supporting it, why not give it some credit. Recognize the effort and the lengths that this group of young men have gone to in the past 10 years to get their passion to a point where they could create a video so effective that after 3 days online it has 40 million views! Furthermore, don't just share the link. Get involved with the movement, participate in Cover the Night. Bring Kony up at dinner with your parents, coffee with your girlfriend, and at your next book club meeting. Then start thinking of ways you can inspire people to have this kind of concern about a social injustice you're passionate about. Because I'll say it again, if more people had this kind of drive for stopping the crimes of our own community, this would be a ridiculously better place, and you'd have less to complain about.

Seinfeld Moment

Monday was my 28th birthday. It started off fantastically with breakfast brought to me by my husband accompanied by a dozen roses. After he left for work the kids and I got dressed and hopped in the car for a trip to the library. We found some good books, headed home for R to take a morning nap while B and I played  and cleaned up. After R's nap we hopped back in the car and headed to the Zoo. It was a great day for being outside with nice temps and a clear sunny sky. We saw lots of great animals and it was all around a great birthday afternoon. The Library and the Zoo are easily two of my favorite places!
As we were leaving the park, while stopped at the light, I noticed a homeless person on the corner. I dug around in my bag and found the remnants of our Zoo snacks: a Tupperware with .5 lb of grapes and half a sleeve of Ritz crackers. I rolled the window down, offered the food to the man, he accepted, and then I rolled the window back up. That's when the tears started.
"Mami, I want my uvas (grapes)! He can't have them, give me my uvas!"
"B, we have lots more uvas at home. These are the ones you didn't want. That man has no food and we have lots of food, so we can share our uvas with him, ok?"
More tears,  more confusion. Eventually I got through to her and she chilled herself out.

This came to mind. Sorry the clip is crappy. It's the only one I could find.
(The guy Kramer is talking to is homeless..)

Bela Nuggets

Me: B, what are you making with your playdoh?
B: I can't talk right now, I working.

Are We Over Teaching Our Toddlers?

Toddler teaching has become super popular as of late it seems. New games and activities for your preschool aged kid to learn new motor, reasoning and cognitive skills is all I hear and read about. I have friends that love these types of things and take time and energy to create said activities. 
I look at our educational system and wonder how we got here? 

• American students rank 25^th in math and 21^st in science compared to students in 30 industrialized countries.
• By the end of 8^th grade, U.S. students are two years behind in the math being studied by peers in other countries
• Sixty eight percent of 8^th graders can’t read proficiently, and most will never catch up.

So I read this and think, well it's no wonder parents are taking such extra care in helping their toddlers learn how to read and do long division? Right? I'm not convinced. As I've said before, I do want the best for my kids. They are my world and their development is important to me. I'm just not sold on this idea that teaching them things that their brains might not really be able to understand is best for them. 

I married a student. Meaning, my husband loves school. He loves learning, he loves classes, he loves homework, etc. If he could get paid well to be a student the rest of his life he would quit his job today. I may be exaggerating a bit, but you get the point. 

I am the opposite. Don't get me wrong, I liked school. I thought my college years were some of the best of my life. However it was more for the lack of parental supervision and classes that started at noon that kept me coming back each semester. 

I don't think college is for everyone. I don't think that telling a kid that they have to go to college is doing them any good. I don't think that raising your kid with the mentality and the assumption that college is where they're headed is healthy. I won't argue that it's not a good idea, because let's be honest, in this economy, any type of advanced training is just good sense. 

Here's my biggest issue with toddler teaching. Let say I teach my 4 year old how to do basic addition. I teach her the difference between a noun and a verb, I teach her how to spell basic words, etc. Then she turns 5 and starts kindergarten in a school district where most of her classmates have been in daycare since infancy because both of their parents work full time. She's far more advanced then the other kids because I took an enormous amount of time out of my life over the last 2 years teaching her all these things to prepare her for school. But because the rest of the kids aren't as advanced, the class content isn't either. So instead of learning along with the other kids, she sits there bored, tired, a nuisance to her peers. She knows all this stuff already and she doesn't care that Bobby and Jane don't. She's been hearing all about how much fun school is going to be and so far she's been disciplined 3 times because she wants to have fun and all the teacher wants to do is talk about the alphabet. 

I don't know. Maybe I'm out of line. Maybe if more parents took concern with advancing their preschoolers educationally then problems like the above wouldn't arise. Somehow I don't see that happening. 

My solution to combat over teaching my toddler...? I'm not going to force her to learn things that she's not ready for. I'm not going to set a goal of making her the smartest kid in her kindergarten class. She'll learn how to spell when she learns how to spell. She is however going to get a ginormous amount of opportunities for self-exploration. She's going to be showered in hugs and kisses and lessons of loving thy neighbor. She will be taught good manners, politeness and the importance of sharing. She will abide by a bedtime routine, sit with the family at dinner time, and learn the responsibility of chores. She will be taught all the things that I can't be sure she'll learn in school. I can control how much extra help she gets on educational lessons once she hits school age at home. I can't guarantee that in school she'll be taught valuable life lessons that are going to turn her into an outstanding human being that I can be proud of. Those lessons are my job. And I plan on taking them very seriously.

Great Blog Post on Love and Suffering

"If God is Love, then to me it follows that Jesus is God. Because love is voluntarily suffering with other human beings. And so I refuse to consider any god who can’t say 'me too'."

For full article read here: http://momastery.blogspot.com/2010/06/treasure-hunt.html

It's awesome...

First Day of School

Tomorrow is the first day that my kids will be away from me, with people that aren't regular babysitters or family members. We've been talking a lot lately about me working more and in order to do that, childcare is a must. We weighed our options, daycare, parents day out programs, in home sitters. I visited multiple facilities to find the best one for us. I finally found one that I think will be a great fit. B is pumped about her first day of school. Granted this is a parents day out program and it's one day a week from 9-3. But that's a long day for either of them to be away from me with what will be initially, a whole lot of strangers. Thankfully, I have one child that loves to socialize. B loves kids, adults, new places, new toys, etc. R on the other hand is a mess. He'll scream nonstop for 1.5 hours in the nursery at church. (This is one of the reasons that we haven't been to church in weeks. No, make that months.) I'm nervous. I'm suffering from anxiety. I chose this place because it's the right price, it's located close to our home, the class sizes are tiny and it's part of church so they do bible lessons and activities rooted in principles that are healthy and important for their little minds. It's perfect. Hopefully my kids will think so too. I've already called the director this evening asking last minute questions. Stupid questions, but my babies are starting school tomorrow and it's breaking my heart. Do they have to be in childcare? No. But at some point I may start working a lot more and if and when that point arrives I need to know that my kids can handle being separated from me for longer than a few hours with a babysitter. First World Problems?....I think so

On a much happier note:

Oh crafts!

A few months ago someone sent me an invite to a little website called Pinterest. I registered, looked around for about 10 min. and then decided that I would find time to play later. My account went un-visited for months. Until last week that is. For some random reason I decided to give it another shot and see what all the fuss was about. If you're not already a user, run, don't look back and try to forget you ever heard about this site. Because honestly, once you start, you can't stop. This is fine of course if you have self control and/or nothing else going on in your life. I however don't have time for this site, and somehow am always on it. You'll find me in about 10 years, single, with all parental rites stripped away. I'll have a written a memoir about how Pinterest ruined my life, cost me my marriage and my relationship with my children...It's that bad, folks.

But seriously, I can't stop creating. And I love it.

I recently finished/made this:

And this:

And this:

And those are just the finished products. I cut the legs off of an extra end piece of a spare crib we had to make a craft storage board in the basment. I'm in the process of finishing some other things too. And once those are done, I already have three or four more things in mind to start on.

It's amazing how great it feels to decorate your home with things that you created that don't look horrible. And it's all thanks to the ideas of others. I mean seriously! Who would have thought to use buttons to spell things on a canvas, or to paint over rubber bands stretched around a vase. There are some super clever people out there. Unfortunately I'm not one of them. But I do get to freely copy and take credit for duplicating said cleverness. Thanks Pinterest, for making me feel like the artist I'll never truly be! I owe you one.

Homeschooling

At a recent play date with some of my most favorite mommy friends, the subject of kindergarten came up. Apparently, and to my shocking astonishment, two of my friends were seriously talking about homeschooling. One friend who wasn't able to join us that day is also apparently seriously considering it. I sat and listened as the two discussed their why's behind picking home school over public/private. Obviously, private school is expensive for one kid, let alone multiples. But when these families live in great school districts and have always talked about public schools, it was so interesting to suddenly see how the tides have turned. They continued on for awhile about ideas they had for taking turns with each other kids for the early ed. years, activities they might try, etc. After about 10 minutes I piped in and said something along the lines of "I'm sorry but I don't think I could ever home school my kids." And to that, friend 1 responded "Do not apologize for not wanting to home school your kids. Every kid is different as is every mom." (I'm paraphrasing, but you get the picture.) But it got me thinking about perceptions. We've pretty much always said that if we are living in a good school district, Lord willing, our kids will go to public. There's really never been any doubt about it. I went to private, and I loved it and I totally appreciate it. C did both, private for grade school, public for high school. So we know the positives/negatives to both options.  But as I sat there listening to their excitement over the thought of spending every day for the next 18-20 years in the house with their kids, yikes, I couldn't help but feel a little guilty. Am I a bad mom for not wanting this? Does this mean they love their kids more than I love mine because the idea of being the main provider of educational and social activities excites them?
Relax, I'm not still stressing out about these things. The truth is, I do love my kids. I'm a good mom and I adore my children. I want them to have an amazing education. Could they get that more from me then from the education system, maybe. But we'd all end up hating each other in the end. I respect the moms out there that want to home school. Not because they have to, but because they want to. I come from a family that dabbled in this a little so I've seen into that world. I also have family members that are homeschoolers. I'm not naive to the home school world as so many people are. It's sad, the crap that these families take for trying to educate and raise their kids from the safety of their own homes. Seriously, lighten up folks.

I'm just not that kind of mom. But it's more than that. I'm not that kind of woman. Does my kids happiness mean the world to me, of course. But, my happiness is important too, and there is nothing wrong with that. There are women/men designed  so as to enjoy this style of learning, I just happen to not be one of them. And I'm OK with that.

Geeeez

I'm sorry, but does it get any cuter than this?

Thoughts on Motherhood

I found this in an article linked to a friends FB page today. The article itself is great. But I highlighted and saved these few lines as a reminder for me and for any other mom that might need it. Enjoy:

*To become a mother, I had to learn how to care about someone more than I did about myself, and that was terrible... Dear mother, don’t worry about enjoying your life. Your life is hard; your life will be hard. That doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong—it means you’re doing it right.*

Here's the link to the whole article

"O.B" stands for "Oh Boy I'm glad I'm not prego's"

I sat in the waiting room at my OB's office today and looked around at the other patients. This is the first time I'd been back in a year, which.is.huge. It seems for the past 4 years almost, my Doc and I had become best friends considering how often I've been in her exam room. (This is due to the pregnancies/births of my two kids, for anyone that doesn't know me personally.)

But I sat there and looked around at all the pregos that were awaiting their checkups or ultrasounds and instead of thinking "Oh they all look so happy and cute", or "Oh, I remember how nice it was to be pregnant, I kind of miss that" my one and only thought was "Holy Smokes! Thank God I am only here for a checkup."

Bela Nuggets

I may start this as a regular segment. I do realize at somepoint it will have to become Bela/Ricky nuggets but for now we'll stick with the funnier of the two.

1. Recently C and I were cleaning out our storage in the basement. In a pile on the floor was the training potty that I had purchased for B. She had sat on it maybe twice before deciding she needed to use the regular toilet. So to the basement it went to await the day when R starts down that path... Anywho, B walks in and says "what's this?" I tell her it's the potty from when she first started learning to "go". She walked off with it even though I told her not to. Right, you know how that goes. Anways, some time passes and she runs in covered in smiles and pride and says "yay, mommy, I did it!" My confusion lead to disgust when I perplexedly followed her into the other room to find the potty full of potty. Ughh, gross.

2. Last week we were awoken with screams and cries that could only be the result of a nightmare coming from B's room. After waiting a few minutes and deciding that she probably needed me to go calm her down, I walked in and felt around for her, while trying to tell her to calm down. To my surprise my hands discovered a completely stark naked child. I'm not sure when, but at some point during the night she had undressed, completely, and stayed that way. Thank goodness she had that nightmare because otherwise I would have had to clean up wet sheets at 3 am due to her not wearing her diaper!

Grace

My brother blogged about this song. I can honestly say I've never paid attention to this artist and was for the most part unaware of his music. However, this song kills me. But in a totally good way.

http://mahndo.blogspot.com/2012/01/quick-thought-on-lupe-fiasco.html

I started crying while watching it. Yes, you heard me, crying. Not because of the beauty of the song, or the well done filmography, but because of what my heart suddenly felt. It's no secret that this world is a mess. Wars, famine, domestic abuse, drugs, etc. But it stays in the back of our minds for the most part. We, being North Americans, tend to live focused on ourselves, our image, our lives.  The news shows us scenes and stories of the atrocities but they lace it with pop culture news in order to dumb down the seriousness of the pain that exists outside our comfy computer screen. My mind knows this. My mind understands what poverty looks like, I've seen it. Both domestically and abroad. My mind understands violence and hate. This is not news to my mind. But my heart. My heart is naive. My heart is shattered because as sad as I am for those less fortunate, my selfishness has a way of pretending they don't exist.
This song, portrays that. It made this connection for me between my head and my heart. And that's why I cried.
The more I listened, the more I thought about Grace. I realize that I may have just lost some of you but stick with me. Christ came so that grace could be freely given. My mind, that recognizes sin exists, shelters my heart from acknowledging it. This is why Grace was given. This is why it is received. So that in my ignorance, in my blatant act of ignoring the realities that surround me, I can still be unconditionally loved. I still receive what I don't deserve. What none of us deserve. Sadly I am a product of my environment, as you all are. I'm sheltered because my whole like I've lived in middle class white suburbia. There's nothing wrong with that, but it's my world. By nature mine is an ignorant, close minded, selfish world. So as a product, and often a voluntary one, I need that Grace more than ever.
As much as I'd love to run away and make a difference, I can't. I have a life here that I love, that loves me. That needs me. But thankfully there are those fighting for peace, those speaking out about injustice and intolerance.
This seems incoherent, and I apologize. But it all comes down to this: I'm grateful for my life. But more importantly, I'm grateful for Grace. I'm grateful that this is not it. That this broken, crappy world, is not the end. It breaks me to tears to hear/see such violence and hate, but I hold onto the hope that hate will not always win, disparity will not always triumph, and pain will someday be gone. This is because of the Grace that is freely given and freely received.

thoughts

Over the past few weeks so much has popped into my head where I've thought, wow I should really blog about that. I don't have that many readers, I don't think, so blogging really is more for me and not about what you, the scarce reader, gets out of it. Forgive me if the next few entries are random, and unconnected. . . .