Thursday, March 31, 2011

I’m on mom’s computer.  A shiny nickel to anyone who can identify that hottie.

Aaaaand some bullet points from the last week:

  • Hopped in car with less than 2 hours notice and drove from Wisconsin to Colorado.  All night.

  • Got home just long enough to see my Aunt Sanny.  Suweet!

  • Checked in with Lola and HOLY SNAP that baby is gorgeous.  Definitely no smooshed newborn face there.

  • Husband flew back to the Wisconsin.  Sigh.

  • Spent half days with Lola and perfect baby for a few days.  Yes, I was around a baby and did NOT go insane.  Having Lola around had something to do with that.

  • The ‘rents have vacated the state for a while, so I’m squatting in their place, full-time mommy again.

  • Last night I freaked out at all the wind and thought that a murderer was trying to get into the house and mutilate us all.

  • I only mention that because that is why I was too freaked to go outside and take the garbage cans in.  So this morning I had to collect our trash from all over the street and one of the cans is missing.  It was big too, which is kinda freaky.  I can’t find it.  How does a huge garbage can disappear??

  • This morning I thought it would be sweet to take the kiddos (who I haven’t spent a full day with in a bit) to the Children’s Museum.  Who would have thought it would be wall-to-wall children during spring break? *facepalm*

Now, I’m trying to figure out their Netflix.  I can’t figure out how to click on things in the computador and make it go to the TV (it does have this capability).  That’s a nice problem to have.

 Oh, and I’m hoping the murderer who was trying to get into the front door last night does not come back.  Little known fact: I’m kinda afraid of the dark.  Dagnabit, I needs my man.

NUTBOD (Houseboats of Kashmir Mix) - Benjamin Britten I know I have that high-and-mighty musician thing going, so I’m little torn about the fact that my all-time favorite album of EVER is Baz Luhrmann’s 1998 Something For Everybody. Yeah, Baz the film director, and his album of songs and remixes from him films to that date (no Moulin Rouge or Australia yet). Is that weird? Because seriously, it has EVERYTHING. A sitar, Doris Day, La Boheme, techno, swing, Gustav Holst. DUDE. This song is from his version of A Midsummer Night’s Dream which was AWESOME. I’ll be randomly posting tunes from this album while I’m on my mom’s computador and they are staring at me. You’re welcome.

NUTBOD (Houseboats of Kashmir Mix) - Benjamin Britten

I know I have that high-and-mighty musician thing going, so I’m little torn about the fact that my all-time favorite album of EVER is Baz Luhrmann’s 1998 Something For Everybody.  Yeah, Baz the film director, and his album of songs and remixes from him films to that date (no Moulin Rouge or Australia yet).  Is that weird?  Because seriously, it has EVERYTHING. A sitar, Doris Day, La Boheme, techno, swing, Gustav Holst.  DUDE. 

This song is from his version of A Midsummer Night’s Dream which was AWESOME.

I’ll be randomly posting tunes from this album while I’m on my mom’s computador and they are staring at me.  You’re welcome.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

I’m holding Lola’s baby. And when I’m not doing that, I’m racing home to hold my own babies. I miss you. I’ll update y’all tomorrow.

Friday, March 25, 2011

Dear everyone who is not married to this man,



PS. No really, I mean it. About 4 hours ago he announced, despite my objecting to it for the last 9 months, he was purchasing a one way ticket for the way back and would drive me to Colorado. Today. I kept thinking I could do it. Maybe I could. I’m so lucky I don’t have to find out.

Seriously. Love. This. Man.

Sigh.  If only duct tape could hold the Dude….

Thursday, March 24, 2011

My dearest Lola is at the hospital at this very moment, officially becoming a mother.  The last 9 months have been tough, and I promised her from day one I’d be there to help.  And I will.  I’m packing up myself and the kids for an extended trip to the mountains.  I’m torn between being desperate to jump in the car this very second, and being absolutely terrified of making the drive alone.  I insisted I could do it, but now… less confident.  I’m checking FB every 2 seconds just in case her husband mentions anything…  I need to be there.  I should be there.  I WILL be there.  Why on earth have they not invented teleportation yet???

This pic is from our trip to Savannah when I was pregnant with WG in 2006.  It was a million degrees and that guy’s uniform was WOOL.  AK.

WonderGirl’s MAD piano skills at work last night at a nursing home. You’ll notice she played it perfectly whereas I… whatever, I’m so proud of her!!


Wednesday, March 23, 2011

GPOYW -I’m Pretty Sure I Can Pull Off An Animal Print And Stripes -edition.  I really am sorry about these annoying me+the big camera pics, but I’m not lucky like heidiluxe.  I have have no photographer, and I canNOT pull off the timer like she can.

Monday, March 21, 2011

I’m so playing this for WonderGirl when she gets home. I predict a suweet Living Room Dance Party. And then she’ll either demand a haircut or a silver coat. Possibly both.


The Dude likes a bottle now and then.  It’s cool.  But what isn’t cool is… well, you know how when little babies eat sometimes they flail around for seemingly no possible reason?  Yeah, a 19 month old flailing??  Today he actually tried and succeeded in kicking me in the face.   Repeatedly.  So I turned my head far from the path of his foot so he’d keep eating (he’s a cranky son-of-a-gun if he hasn’t had his dairy intake for the day).  But now that my face was out of the foot danger zone - it was directly in the HAND danger zone.  So he took his wee hand, grabbed my face and shoved it over to where his foot was so it could continue whacking me.

After a bit I realized this was all a very calculated assault.  A weird assault - and I made the mistake of smiling.  It was encouragement enough for the Dude and he ramped up his game, giggling hysterically.  And how am I not supposed to laugh at such mirth, huh?  Yeah, eating time was OVER.

Yesterday after our nightly family prayer, the husband and I gave each other a quick smooch.  It’s a tradition - we kiss after every prayer we have together.  This is no news to anyone.  But it made an impression on the Dude, who curiously watched this, then grabbed my shoulder and the husband’s shoulder and pushed them towards each other until we went ahead and kissed again.  This was apparently HYSTERICAL so the Dude cackled and he jammed our faces together over and over again.  We were laughing so hard we couldn’t even pucker.  I’ve never seen such a happy child.  He tried his own brand of kissing too - which is opening his mouth wide and putting it on your face.  It’s quite messy.

Sometimes I wonder if the Dude and I have anything in common.  Demanding physical control of everything surrounding him?  Yeah, that’s definitely a mommy-inherited trait. 

Friday, March 18, 2011

women of the world:

I say we strike a bargain with our spouses.  They promise to not be mad at us for whatever physical harm we inflict on them in our sleep (has anyone else ever punched their husband in the face while asleep?  The husband SWEARS I have) and we will promise to not be furious with them all day because we dreamed they hopped on a flight to the moon with their new girlfriend, Ruth Bader Ginsburg.

Honestly, I’m pretty sure I’m the victim in all of this, but I’m willing to compromise.  I’m nothing if not magnanimous.  At least while I’m awake.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

GPOYW - I just found our engagement photos! edition.  If I’m bored, I may post some outtakes later.  2004, you seem quite far away…

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

today is a monday in disguise

After waking up at 2 and 5 to a cranky Dude that apparently just wanted some blankies to snuggle, I finally left my room at 7:54.  WonderGirl was in the living room reading a book about planets, and the Dude was singing to himself in his crib.  The day had begun.

I’ve been behind ever since.  Blagh.  As I lay in bed before I ascended on the day,  I thought - “I HAVE to home school WonderGirl.  If she was in school, she’d have to be there by now.  I’d have to actually be UP.”  And why not home school her?  I taught her to read, we’re doing first grade math workbooks, we watch a ton of Bill Nye the Science Guy (THAT SHOW IS SO AWESOME) and the piano… but a few weeks ago at her preschool parent-teacher conference, the teacher raved about her academic prowess - the only problem she had was sitting still and waiting her turn to talk.  And that’s the once thing I can’t teach her.

So basically she’ll go into school knowing too much, so all she’ll want to do is be a HUGE distraction.  Great!

Why on earth does anything have to happen before 9am?!?!?!

Monday, March 14, 2011

Everybody has a profile on  It’s the in thing to do.  Well, if you’re Mormon.  Even the husband has one.  I haven’t made one though.  No, it’s not because I can’t express my faith, or that secretly I don’t believe it and am about to make the jump to Scientology (logical, n’et pas?)  Nope, it’s because I couldn’t find a picture I liked for my profile.  I think I may have found the right one… I maybe should get to the typing then.  But do you think it would be accepted? It’s supposed to be of your face, and behind all the mic stands, my bow and my hair, there’s definitely a nose.  And an eyebrow.


Thursday, March 10, 2011

DUDE.  THE OT NEEDS TO CALL.  IT IS TIME TO PANIC.  The Dude did this to his favorite book - Old Hat New Hat (who doesn’t love Old Hat New Hat??) in a matter of minutes.  That is HUGE chunk!  No, we don’t have a gerbil, a dog, or an alligator.  We have a toddler who has some crazy thing going on where he needs to eat books for amusement.

Oh, and today we met the husband at a Chinese buffet for lunch, where the Dude made a ginormous mess as usual.  When he started to get really antsy and kept trying to climb out of his high chair, I tried to give him a cookie.  But he was so determined to get out he was just annoyed by the offer.  I knew if he just tasted it, he’d think “Whoa - sugar!  Ima gonna sit back down and munch quietly on this!” so I tried to jam it in his mouth.  Yes, I’m that amazing of a parent.  Anywho, a piece broke off and I tried to grab it, but at that point it was under his chin and my attempts just hit his tickle reflex so he squished up his neck and started giggling positively hysterically.  I couldn’t get it unstuck because he was twitching and laughing/gurgling/giggling and I was laughing so hard I couldn’t think straight.  It was so funny it made me decide to allow him to get down and run around the restaurant.

The thing is, this tickle-ish thing is possibly a sign of this whole sensory stuff.  But do I really want that fixed?  It’s hysterical.  I’ll seriously take a video of me tickling him and you’ll fall over from the sheer adorablenessessess.

Ug… but the books… he’s eating every blasted book in the house.  CALL ME, OT PERSON.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

GPOYW - Is it Wednesday already?  Hrm, how about a picture of me with the fancy camera? - edition.

If we’re not e-BFFs on the Facebooks (or follow my uberawesome music site), you probably missed this. I do so love my family. For an added behind-the-scenes treat, here’s the commentary husband left on the Treblemaker site: A few comical notes about the making of this video: This was take 3 from Day 2. Take 1 involved an imaginary microphone which was extremely distracting. The next take involved said microphone and no headphones on wondergirl. As a result she attempted to put the microphone into her mouth in order to be heard. What came out was a garbled mess. The solution was to add a mixer and headphones so she could only hear herself - thus eliminating the need to devour the microphone.Finally - Our little Dude can be seen in the lower left corner, poking in and out of the frame. He begins by dancing and then you can see his little fingers begin to manipulate the mixer. Thankfully, the knobs he were for the channels we were not using.


As long as she’s dressed modestly (no revealing, inappropriate stuff) then she can choose her own clothing. The fight is NOT worth it. But that means she goes to school dressed like this… I’m pretty sure they think she’s homeless.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

So here’s the thing.  The Dude is 18 months and only has about 4 words he generally uses.  The “list” says he should have 5.  So the doctor referred us to an early intervention/education program to have him evaluated, just in case.

Now, I know what you’re thinking - I’m thinking it too - “My kid/nephew/that boy who lived across the street didn’t say a word until they were 2 and they are just fine.  President of a bank, even.”  Yes, boys can speak later.  But I do get why they have a program like this, because what if a kid isn’t speaking at 18 months and there’s actually some kind of problem - isn’t it better to have it checked out sooner than spend the next 6-12 months saying “but my kid/nephew/that boy who lived across the street spoke late - it’s fine” and then find out they actually DO have a problem and it could have been helped with earlier speech therapy?  It’s insanely documented that early treatment and education is super successful the younger it is implemented.  So I get it.  I support it, I do.

The lady who came to check the Dude out, plus the doctor said he’s insanely normal every other developmental way (sigh.. normal… that’s another issue…) so getting his speech looked at is just precautionary.  She was here for over an hour and he flirted up a storm.

Except just as she was leaving, the evaluation lady commented that he sure did like to stuff things in his mouth.  True, this kid loves to gum up everything within arm’s reach at times.  He’s personally eaten an entire set of Sesame Street board books.  She thought about it, and “just in case” scheduled an occupational therapist to come out and check that out - “It might be some kind of sensory issue.”  To which of course I have taken that information in, looked things up on the internet and decided IT IS THE APOCALYPSE.  Because I’m calm and collected like that.

Seriously.  When he’s hungry or bored, he starts gnawing on things.  I should probably feed him more, but that’s another issue entirely.  Thing is, WonderGirl was born impatient, wanting to talk and not wanting to eat.  She’s my freakin’ clone.  The Dude was born happy, and hungry, and in no hurry to say anything that anyone could understand.  What on earth am I supposed to do with that???  Who IS this kid and where did he come from????

Oh, and then I look more on the internet - take all these sensory tests, and now I’m a complete basket case.  He loves to be cuddled, or tickled?  He likes spinning and running in circles ever now and then??  These could possibly be bad.  BAD.  But when he does spin or around he does it for his own amusement and laughs his head off the entire time.  And when you do tickle him he acts happy… he’s just so dang happy all the time, how am I supposed to find out if his brain is wired correctly if he’s so dang happy and sweet all the time??  That’s not normal, or is it????  I just have to wait for these therapy people to come and explain things to me, because left to my own devices I’m about to start running down the street pelting the neighbor’s houses with eggs.  Don’t judge, it just seems like the rational thing to do in this situation.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

WG made this yesterday in honor of the “holiday.”  I kind of don’t want her to learn how to spell things correctly… this phonetic thing is too dang cute.  (That’s also a Thing 1 shirt she’s wearing - she went all out!)

Tuesday, March 1, 2011


in answer to Jane's query

So, the foot motif.  The reason I take pictures of my feet when I’m off on some adventure is because my two feet take me on those adventures.  Once I get to my destination, other parts of my body usually have to take over, but it’s the feet that get me there.

I don’t have a very great history with my mind/body relationship, but I’m trying to fix that.  So my waist doesn’t look like I want, or my nose is just too darn big.  I have eyes that work, limbs that allow me to dance, ski and move freely, ears that let in beautiful music and the sounds of my children’s voices.

Lately, I’m getting sensitive to how women talk about their bodies.  It’s a long list of negatives and complaints.  I look at my daughter’s body in wonder - it’s like her arms and legs sprouted overnight, and I am amazed by how much they can do every day.  It has been amazing to watch, and I make sure to hug that body every day and be thankful that she does have a healthy body to experience this life in.  I know I am very, very lucky to have healthy children.  The idea that her amazing body could keep growing and she’d evolve into berating it hurts my heart a little.  I know it bothers my own mom when she hears me talk like that…. now I understand why.

I’m trying to be good to my wee body.  I know, often, I’m not, but since it doesn’t give up on me I’m really trying to not give up on it. I hope she always adores this body she has, and doesn’t pattern herself after my own follies.  I’m trying to lessen my follies as well…  because even if it fails her here and there, if it doesn’t look like the girls in the magazines - it’s the body that she’s been given to experience this life with.  And that’s not a blessing to take lightly.

I have two feet to take me places, to hold me up while I hold up my children.  That’s pretty cool.

A day well spent.  Carry on, Uncle Rico.

HEAR YE. I need to document the fact that I ran 3 miles and didn't feel like death.  So just to make sure it wasn't a fluke, I did...