Friday, July 27, 2018

Live Baby Girl

OH. It's been forever. So long since she went to heaven. So long since she hugged me. So long since she looked at me and said "I love you, baby girl".

WTF happened?! Cancer? She was the epitome of health. She would put you to shame.
You have to move forward they say. You will heal they say. Uh huh. ok.

Tonight I chopped up one of my mom's favorite shirts. My baby came to me and wanted to wear it, but it was a bit too big. So we cut and cut and I felt like I was cutting into my world. The past world. The world when she was alive and well. And now here I am in this new world. It's a before and after sort of thing.

And while my heart is still shattered, I sit here on my couch with my family, watching shark week, I couldn't ask for anything more. Except maybe one more hug from her.

I know/hear her saying. Live Baby Girl.

Monday, May 18, 2015

Love, Beth

Wow. It has been a while to say the least. Where did the time go? Oh, wait. As of a few weeks ago, time has completely stopped. Somehow tho, the sun keeps coming up. How does that happen? I try not to cry, but sometimes the tears just fall. People are afraid to ask if I am okay because the obvious answer is no. NO. NO. Definitely NOT OKAY. Today a sweet friend sent me a poem and another one brought dinner and many good friends send love on a daily basis, but something was different today. I felt my mom stronger today than I have since that day at the burial when she sent fire ants to eat my ankles because I refused to sit on the front row and stare at her pine box while our family pastor told me I would heal. Eventually.

Mom is talking loud ... and Daddy she misses you so deeply....

Love, Beth

I stand by your bed at night, I'm sorry that you weep
I speak to you softly, "I'm here, I haven't left you. I'm in your heart to keep"

I'm close to you in the mornings, in the stillness of the dawn
We sit together as we always have, I assure I'm not gone

I am with you at my grave, you tend it with such care
I want to reassure you I'm sitting next to you, not lying under there

You are so tired in your days, everything seems so hard
It deeply saddens me that you are forever scarred

But, please grieve me and then dry your eyes
I will always be near you, just as the sun is set to rise

Please remember that I am with you everyday
I can say to you with certainty, "I never went away"

And when the time is right for you to cross over to the other side
I will rush to you and meet you and for eternity we'll be tied

Heaven is for real, so much for you to see
But, for now be patient, live your journey, then come home and be with me

Rest in peace my beautiful mommy. You are so very missed...

Monday, June 4, 2012


Last weekend my hubby went to Wyoming with Wounded Warriors to attend a roundup. WW is an amazing program for our injured service men and women.  Hubby on a horse... on a ranch... with cattle... was a little unsettling to me, but there is no talking him out of anything to do with the Military. He is a stubborn Marine thru and thru and I knew he would get up on that horse with the warriors and attempt to drive no matter what I had to say about it.  I didn't hear much from him during the weekend, just a post on Facebook claiming, "damn horse got away from me!"  
Oh jeez, that can't be good.

When I talked to him on his way home, he informed me that he was thrown from an angry horse... a few cuts and bruises, broken toe... no big deal... not to worry... he saddled back up and finished the ride!  ookkkkkkaaayyyyyyy

A few hours later he came limping through the door. Could I get him an ice pack and something for the pain? It was all I could do not to laugh.

ME:  "Honey, why would you get on a horse when you don't know how to ride?"
HIM:  "I know how to ride! I have ridden plenty of horses!"
ME:   uh, huh... "when? where?"
HIM: "you know, over the years... at resorts and various places"
ME:  "and it didn't occur to you a ranch horse might be different than a resort horse??"
HIM: "Shut up Texas!!"
just sayin'...

Aside from the angry horse, he had some great stories to tell about his experience at the ranch and the amazing men he spent the weekend with.  He even walked away with a pretty cool buckle... even though he needed a little help attaching it to his belt....


Wednesday, March 28, 2012


I used to watch women with their children. Why do they have that exhausted, frustrated look on their face?  Why are they always telling their children no?  Why do they let their children run crazy like that?  Don't they know that bag of chips is not good for their little bodies?  I wondered. I thought. Are they enjoying motherhoood? Shouldnt they be happier?? Pull it together!! Pay attention to your child!! 

I know I will always pay attention to my children. They are the most important thing above all else.
uh huh. It will be perfect when it is my time. 

Recently I was on an important phone call. My youngest wants breakfast.

"Mommy, I'm hungry." I mouth to her "What would you like?" she thinks.  "um, chocolate"  "no, chocolate is after you eat your broccoli." I start to show her various other choices. She jumps up and down and throws herself on the floor screaming.

I walk away.

She follows.

"mommy, I'm hungry." I spin around to face her. she wants mac n cheese. no. lollipop. no. pirate booty. no. another tantrum.  I can't hear the person I am talking to.  I have to apologize for my screaming child. for my inability to control my child.  for my lack of mothering skills.  

I walk away.

she follows. more screaming. more kicking. more throwing herself to the floor.

I go into my closet. I'm straining to hear above the screaming pile of 3 year old on my bathroom floor.

"I'm sorry. I have to call you back"
wait on hold for another half hour. weed thru 95 call representatives to finally get the one who can actually help me....

deep breath.

I walk out of my closet.

She is still laying on the floor. exhausted. pouty face. looking at me like her world is over.


uh huh.

"I just wanted to tell you... how about I eat broccoli and then have chocolate?"

for breakfast!?!?!?

fine broccoli and chocolate for breakfast

yep. it will be perfect when I have children.

Sunday, August 28, 2011


No, not that F word. Football was the one I was referring to. It is that time of year again and every Monday, Thursday, Saturday and Sunday (did I get the days right? cause it feels like EVERYDAY) if you enter the football stadium that is our house you will hear yelling, screaming and various words that we teach our children NOT to say.  The television is tuned to screams football. complete with the big screen, wolfer and surround sound so you get the full effect. just like in the stadium. all day. all night. game after game. after game.

That I can handle... for the most part.

Now for the other F word. Nooo, not that one. Fantasy. or Fake. As much as I like football... pre kids I could actually sit and watch a game... maybe have a few beers while I watch.... I have never understood the fantasy thing. Every year, for years hubby and a group of friends get together and pretend they own a NFL team. They have questionable names for their teams such as "Skillachi di Mar", "Gorilla Monsoon", "Merciless Zachammer" and "Jieux Redux". I could go on....  how about... "Mudcat's Pubic Opus".  I know. dont ask. They jockey for players from real teams to be on their fake teams to compete against each other each week in their fake football world.

A few days ago, hubby announced it was time.  He grabbed a beer and headed to the office to get ready for the fake draft only to return a few minutes later announcing he had the date wrong. Turns out he was overanxious to compile his fake team. Not to worry preseason is just heating up and this season is going to be a good one.  Soon enough he will be locked down with his buddies, computers in hand, stadium noise at ear deafening decibels where trades will be made, stats will be compiled and trash talk will fly.  Sure, in the end there is a significant money pot for the winner. But the true win lies in the victory itself. One of them will gain the rights to thump their chest and gloat for the next several months.

Until next season...
when it starts all over again.

Monday, August 22, 2011


A few people have asked me for this recipe, so here it is. Not mine, I found it on the Internet and I wish I remembered where because she deserves all the credit. I just followed her directions. Very simple, very fattening and very very yummy!

Irish Beer and Cheese Bread


1 cup sharp cheddar cheese, shredded 
1 cup extra sharp white cheddar cheese, shredded 
½ cup Dubliner cheese, shredded 
3¼ cups all-purpose flour 
1 tablespoon baking powder 
1 teaspoon dry mustard 
½ teaspoon kosher salt 
¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper 
¼ teaspoon white pepper 
1 large garlic clove, minced or pressed through a garlic press 
¾ cup sour cream 
1¼ cup beer, Irish Red Ale 
1 tablespoon worcestershire sauce 
1 egg


Preheat oven to 350°. Grease a 9×5 loaf pan and set aside. 

1. Grate all the cheeses, keeping them separated. Measure out the necessary amounts listed above. 

2. From the measured piles of cheese, separate out about ¼ cup of the sharp cheddar, ¼ cup of the white cheddar and cup of the Dubliner and reserve for topping the bread later. 

3. In a large bowl, combine the remaining cheeses, the flour, baking powder, salt, mustard, peppers and garlic. Stir to coat the cheese in flour. 

4. In a small bowl whisk together the sour cream, beer, worcestershire sauce and egg.

5. Pour into dry mixture. 

6. Mix the dough just until combined. Scoop dough into prepared pan and push down to evenly spread the dough across the pan. Sprinkle with reserved cheese. 

7. Bake for about 50 minutes or until a knife inserted into the center comes out clean.


Saturday, August 20, 2011


I am really sick of Miss Fairy. I know she is there. I can feel her evil snicker. That and Little K is drooling and chewing on everything. toys, furniture, me, Punks, the dog. oh and the fever. We have gone through so much Tylenol I am considering buying stock.  Don't judge.  I don't ordinarily drug my kids (usually I drug myself), but drastic times...

Yesterday, Little K and Punk's were playing with the disney princess dolls.  Punk's foot dangling over the side of the chair.  Little K must have thought it looked appealing and decided maybe Punk's big toe could be used instead of the teething ring in her hand. So, she crawled over and bit down. with her 2 teeth. Screams of pain at ear deafening decibels shot out of Punk's mouth. jumping around on one foot. arms flying in all directions. completed with the dramatic drop to the floor in exhaustion. You would have thought Little K chomped the toe right off.  After, a solid hour of whining, three very wet washcloths to wipe away the pain and a pack of princess bandaids, we somehow we managed to save the toe. It was a close one, but she still has all 5 on each foot.

later, Punks tells Little K, "no problem, my toe okay now" 
whew. we are all so glad.   

What seemed like an eternity after that, it was bedtime. I battled Punks about brushing her teeth before bed. Does it ever end? I am quickly growing weary of your games Miss Fairy. 

I tell her ONE story and then bed. she plucked Go the F*^K to Sleep out from under the coffee table. okayyy. appropriate. good choice Punks. 

If only she had listened to my words....
"it is time to sleep my little princess"
..... now, go the F^*K to sleep!

Thursday, June 23, 2011


I have a friend, lets call her K. She and I are so much alike it is really eerie.  We can talk on the phone for hours and hours about EVERYTHING. When we lived in the same city we talked on the barstool side by side for hours. You think I am exaggerating. I am not. She has been my sidekick for many years now. She is the one I call when I have done something questionable or said something unfiltered (I know, shocking) because she will always understand, most likely laugh- even if I get an "oh, yikes" first-, relate and then attempt to justify my words and/or actions.

The other day we were laughing remembering about her string of men.  There was trainer guy, pink shirt guy, Ohio guy, to name a few. I will not list any of the sexual names we have for her men. That would be inappropriate. I am sure you can use your imagination. None of them have actual names though. They never do unless she becomes serious with them which is rare.  The name thing also spills over to the friends we share. Let me say, if you are not super close to us and sometimes even if you are, you have a name other than your own. Whether it is angel face, booty, crazy chick or something else that describes you, you have one.

My kids have multiple names too. Each family member has their own special name for my kids.  I am not even sure how this came about. As far as I can remember it was my sister and my husband who each gave my eldest her own special name and it went from there.  Each girl has about 3 variations of their actual name. Then add Punks, Pumpkin, Doodle Bug, Diva, Boogie, Angel, Pea among a few others and it is questionable if they will grow up confused as to what their name actually is. My oldest daughter named her little sister "bebe" and it stuck. seriously. I sometimes catch myself asking her to please "be nice to bebe".

So when I was at the playstation a few days ago, as the little people were running circles around me, I started thinking about the whole name game. There are so many unique names out there now, not pet names or nicknames, but actual names on a birth certificate. Some of them borderline strange if you ask me, but what does my opinion matter anyway? They are out there and I can't help but wonder, as parents, have we become too obsessed with original baby names?  It has become a non-spoken competition.  You meet a new mom and ask what her child's name is. There is a pause in conversation. She is waiting for you to say, "oh, I like that name" or "wow, what a great name".  So, you say it as an automatic response.  Just the way you say "nice to meet you" when you meet your husband's business associates for the first time when your really thinking, "ohhh, I heard about you, your the one who..."

So, how did all of this come about?  Why did a generation whose parents named them Nicole, James, Brooke and Matt decided their babies would go by Suri, Pax, Zola, Blossom and Liberty?  Names that used to be common such as Allison, Caitlin, Madeline, Amelia and Katie are now spelled Allyson, Kaitlyn, Madalyn, Emilia and Cady.  When did Connor drop a 'n' and Jackson become Jaxon?

Harley used to be a motorcycle not a little boy in the sand box.  Paris was once a destination not a snotty, spoiled heiress. Apple was a computer and Noah had an Ark, not the new scooter who plays with his friend named Scooter.

A few feet away I noticed August, Spring and April come in from Sommer's birthday party.  They were talking about how hot it was already for June.  August announced she wanted to have a pool party too for her birthday in a few months.

And then in poured the Taylor, Harper, Scott and Dillon families who are all very close. Charlee and Dylan Taylor who are both girls, play with Taylor Harper and Harper Dillon not to be confused with Charlie Dillon who is a boy and plays with Scott Harper and Dillon Scott.

I learned from one gossip-y mom that Bliss, Joy and Harmony will have to find new playmates soon. Turns out their parents' divorce is almost final and they will be moving away. 

And what will happen when Keegen, Teegen, Deegen and Meegen all end up in the same classroom at school? Or worse when Kiley, Kyleigh, Kylee and Kylie all end up in the same classroom? I feel sorry for that poor teacher.

Hope, Faith and Grace attend church every Sunday, duh, where they meet up with their friends Basil, Honey and Chi.  Last week they thought it clever to bring treats. So, they brought Chi Tea with basil and honey to sip on while they learn about Jesus and their destiny which is not the same as the little boy, Jesus or the little girl, Destiny whom are both in their class at school.

Would a child be confused with a name like Dakota when they are from Alabama or Brooklyn when they are from North Dakota? Would they be teased if they were named Georgia from Georgia or is that acceptable? Are Austin and Dallas cool as long as they were from Texas.

No lie, I actually met a Waffle the other day and it was not on my plate at the Pancake House.

I could go on, but you get my point.

Everything, even names have become a competition. Has life always been that way, or have I just become wise to it as I have gotten older? I saw a post on fb from L last night. I love when people get all poetic on fb.
A wise friend made a great point yesterday. What if everyone in the world looked exactly the same and the only thing to differentiate us was our personalities? Everyone would work very hard to have a great personality and the world would be a more peaceful place! Now i'm not saying I don't like to work on my looks too. I just said a friend made a great point.
My initial thought was 'huh, would you have to wear a name tag your whole life? hopefully your parents named you well'... 'what if we all had the same name?' 

oy veh

Friday, June 3, 2011


Okay, so I said I wouldn't do it, but I did. I joined the MOMS CLUB.  I know, I know, but I thought maybe I could meet some friends. I haven't gone to a meeting or anything yet, but I have met a few of them out around town.

So, yesterday I received an email about donating childrens clothes to an orphanage. As I am gathering clothes, Punks is following me around asking "me watch mini mouse in mama's bed" after about the 35th time of telling her no I told her she would sit in time out if she asked again. So, for the next hour she sat in time out again and again and again. She would ask and then sit in time out. repeat. repeat. repeat. Between time outs and asking for mini mouse she was also asking to donate her pink unicorn to the babies. I told her while that was thoughtful, we were just donating clothes this time. She insisted. I said no. she asked again and again and again.  I felt like I was in groundhog day.

okay, all the clothes in a bag. ready for pick up. whew.

fast forward a few hours

"mama, me need pink ewww-ni"

umm, okay where did you put it?
"I dunno" okaaayyyyy......
for the next few minutes we looked everywhere and then it dawned on me....

"punks. did you give pink ewww-ni to the babies?"
"YEP" she announced proudly


now, I have to get on the phone and call a woman I have spent about 30 seconds with and tell her while we were happy to donate, we are actually going to need the pink unicorn back.  I am really sorry. so, can I drop over in oh, say 10 minutes?

I tuck Punks into bed with pink ewww-ni that night and she says, "mama, me no wanna watch mini mouse in mama's bed. me go nigh night now"

um, yes please

Saturday, May 28, 2011


One of my girls takes a bad tumble. I throw them both in the car and speed off to the Emergency Room, heart racing.  Swerving in and out of cars, I have to stop at a light.  I look up...


gawd. is someone warning me the apocalypse coming?  green light.  slam on the accelerator. another mile or so and another light.


I am totally panicked and the girls are screaming. Let me pull out my phone and jump online to hold my place at the ER. Hopefully someone who has a broken arm will not score a place in line in front of my daughter who is bleeding to death in the backseat of my car.

Both my girls are fine.

When I see these signs all over town I have to wonder. I am sure there is a perfectly good explanation and probably a genius idea behind them. However, maybe "they" should hire a better marketing team to clarify what that genius idea is exactly.


Saturday, May 14, 2011


You could ruin your child's future by not getting them into the correct preschool.  Research the schools when your pregnant so you can start plunking down your deposits while they are still in the womb.  That way when your child speaks 3 languages and reads before age 2, you can brag that your little Johnny goes to the primo preschool down the road.

Know the parents I am speaking of?

I took Punks to the Playstation the other day to run out some energy.  We are new to the area and I asked a pair of moms about the good preschools in town. GASP!!  They stared silently at me with their completely horrified faces.  Your toddler has not attended preschool yet??  You haven't secured her a spot for the fall yet?!?  You would have thought I just told them I let my child watch more than one hour of television per day. Oh, wait.  I guess they decided to save my daughter from her incompetent mother because when they regained consciousness I was totally bombarded with rules, regulations and deadlines about getting my child into a good preschool now so that I don't completely ruin her future. I wanted to run for the slide tunnels and crawl in after Punks to hide from them.

I just haven't seen the need to send Punks to preschool just yet.  She is learning her colors, numbers and all of the things a 2 year old should know just fine.  However, now it is time. She needs some structure in a bad way. She needs time away from mommy to spread her wings. Okay, that was a bit fluffy. She needs to learn to sit in a chair and wait her turn to talk among other little humans her age.

We visited our first school the other day. When I walked in I was attacked with facts and figures and must dos and donts and everything in between. If my head wasn't securely attached to my body it would have spun off and landed on the table that held more "educational games" than you have ever seen.  All for sale. All with an absurd price tag. We are talking about plastic toys here people.  You want your child to succeed don't you? Well, then you must buy this $95 bag of blocks.

This preschool fad is out of control.  As much as I think it is necessary for a child to attend school starting about age 3 for social reasons, I am truly annoyed at the madness surrounding the preschool competition.  Too many parents are obsessed with their children being the best at everything. Sadly enough at their child's expense.

But me being annoyed doesn't matter because here I sit. Researching preschools in the area in order not to ruin my childrens' future.  I wonder if preschools have a PTA.  I have always wanted to be a PTA mom....


Thursday, May 5, 2011


Never take your eyes off of a 2 year old.  Punks can get into trouble in less than five seconds if she thinks nobody is looking. A few weeks ago I caught her drawing on the dog with pink highlighter. "Please don't draw on the dog" The Master Bedroom wall. "Punks! Don't draw on walls!" Then it was the chair in the playroom. "paper, paper paper! we draw on paper!" So, yesterday she draws on paper AND herself. This time with permanent marker.

why do small children like to draw on everything?

My little sister used to do that too. We had pretty scribbles all over the house.  On the walls. On the backs of doors. on tables, chairs.  She drew a flower and a heart on our wallpaper in the bathroom one day.  My mother was so mad. Yeah, so mad she didn't change the wall paper until this year.

so, how do you remove permanent marker?
wait it out?
a few friends made some suggestions
my favorite was to color it in like a tattoo
she could match her daddy

while I am thinking on this one, I tell her lets go outside for a few minutes
she grabs her sunglasses and her phone
wonder where she learned that...

"mama, I ha ha call duck"
she is calling duck?
"Punks, are you calling duck on the phone?"
"MAMA, ssshhhhhhhhh, I ha ha call duck!!"
"hi duck. come wi wi me in wimming pool"
"honey, ducks can't swim in swimming pools. they swim in lakes"
"MAMA, shhhhhhhh I talking to duck!!"
she shoots me an exasperated look



If your wondering about the cute tank, you can find her on facebook, "Kara Made It"
All clothing is made with lots of love and apparently lots of sass


Tuesday, May 3, 2011


While in class the other day I hear a few ladies talking about "naked yoga" 
Say what?
Apparently it is the new trend.
Maybe not so new in Greece? Brazil?

The images flood my head...
standing bow
downward dog
happy baby pose

just to name a few...

Where would you position yourself in the room??
front row?
back row?
depends on why your there?

When I get home I Google
OMG my eyes!
on my computer!
on the internet for everyone to see!

Who are these people?
Unfortunately, our imperfections become more magnified with age.
I certainly would not do naked yoga...
....some of these people are much older than me

I know it is the Yogi way to find peace in your mind, body and soul
not sure that I will ever find that much "peace" with my aging body
does that make me vain?
even so...

Punks walks in and I slam the top down on my computer
but I forgot to close the page... 

a few hours later...

The girls are playing in Little K's crib
I peek in on them
both are naked
and Punks...
is attempting to stand on her head

apparently Punks is a fan of naked yoga


I think I will stick to Bikram Yoga
while the clothes are tiny, they still cover the parts that need covering...

Monday, May 2, 2011


While watching late night tv last night there was a commercial that caught my attention. I sat straight up in bed. Eyes glued to the tv.

"Imagine going where you want..." 
really? that would be nice. ummm... to the mall? to paint my toes?  to a book store? can I get a coffee and sit down somewhere besides the children's section and read for a while?

"when you want..."
what about naps and bedtimes? feedings and snacks? I am not sure....  I'm not particularly fond of meltdowns.

stop. by myself? without one strapped to my front and the other hanging off my back or out of the cart grabbing at everything.  who will I talk to?  I am not sure if I know how to do by myself anymore.

"If you feel your limited mobility is keeping you from living life the way you want, then here's good news..."

uh huh, uh huh..... great! lets hear it!
a chair?

well, it is motorized....


I could roll through the house.  No more puncture wounds to my feet from make believe food and puzzle pieces. No more tripping over balls and dolls left out in the floor. No more bruises from walkers, miniature tables, chairs and stools. I could bulldoze through it all.  My legs could be bruise and scrape free. My feet cut free.


I could have power mobility.

Sunday, May 1, 2011


A friend of mine was talking about Oprah the other day at the park. Apparently Oprah was quizzing Chris Rock about what grade he would get as a parent. It got me thinking... how would my kids grade me?

Here is what I came up with...

Love: A++
I honestly didn't know I was capable of feeling the type of love I have for my babies. It is the most incredible kind of love.

Worry: A++
For someone who used to get 8 hours of sleep EVERY night, I don't know how I even function. Between them waking me up for whatever reason and me tip toeing in every few hours to make sure they are still breathing, I hardly sleep at all.  It is no wonder I can't connect my thoughts, I lose everything and do lame brained things like find my keys in the microwave. I would typically blame something like this on Punks except she can't reach the microwave. huh.

Although it is not all fun and games we do have a good time.  Mommy wears potty seats as hats, we feed ducks, swim, go to the park, chase the dog in the house watch him slide across the floor and fall apart in giggles, swim, play dress up, sing, dance, use beds as trampolines, you know... whatever moms do.   

Role Model: A- 
Children never listen to what you say, but they always mimic what you do. I believe I am a good role model for my kids... until something like this happens...

"MAMA MEE WANT BEBE PLEASSSS" at least we have the manners down
No, you have to many already. Play with what you have  
scream. punch. spin. spin. spin. fall down. "crat"
note to self: stop cursing  

Discipline: B
We are working on sharing. We are working on tantrums. We are working on hitting. We are working on sass mouth. We are working on launching things at little sister's head. My family used to joke that I would have my kids lined up like soldiers. Soooo didn't happen that way.

Patience: B
I think I do pretty well with this considering...
This was our morning: 
"Punks, don't throw stuff in your sister's play yard"
tosses in a microphone
sit in time out
"don't throw things in the play yard." waving the microphone at her 
tosses in a rattle.
sit in time out
"don't tell mama no"
sticks out her tongue 
sit in time out
breaks off a toy from the walker. tosses it in play yard
sit in time out 
did you break this? "yeah"
"don't throw things in your sister's play yard"
tosses in a bebe doll
repeat. repeat. repeat. 

...and then there is the morning ritual of getting dressed

Domestic: C-
Cook? does microwaving count? Bake? nope. Sew? nope. Iron? dry cleaners. Clean? only cause I have to.  I was invited to play Bunko the other day. I had to call my mom and ask her what the heck Bunko even was...   Can I pick up some extra credit somewhere else?

So, I am gonna give myself an overall B+.  Mathematically incorrect, but it seems to me that Love and Fun carry a heavier weight than the rest. I could do without the constant worry, but I think that comes with the package.

Is it 5:00 yet?

Tuesday, April 26, 2011


I woke up early this morning with one goal: finish my final project for school. Turns out my kids had other ideas...

wake up to hubby working on iPad
Punks wants milk
work on school project

Little K wants milk
go to yoga

crazy cuban chats it up with me about doing my yoga in the morning so I can go out at night

realize the shirt I slept in that is now over my yoga top has last nights dinner and Little K spit up all over it.

105* with 50% humidity.
start to sweat
crazy cuban "come on it not hot"
really start to sweat
"class is hard. it called exercise. fat belly in."
sweat pouring out of me
"what you doing? no water for you yet."
start to fling sweat when I bend over
"okay, party time. grab you water"
4 poses down, only 22 to go

put on spit up shirt inside out.
run out of yoga. 
outside humidity feels like inside yoga room. awesome.
play frogger with crazy drivers of south florida
old man with really cool hat in big white caddie that cut me off->  2 points
old man swerving on two lane road while reading newspaper while driving->  -2 points

run in the door
kiss hubby goodbye
Punks in Little K's crib jumping on mattress inches from her head
Little K pooped. leaked onto mattress Punks is now jumping on.
Punks realizes this and throws herself out of crib forehead smashing my nose

work on project. write 5 words. change diaper. write half paragraph. fix food for Punks. write 9 more sentences. fix milk for Little K. repeat. repeat.

Punks draws on Little K with green pen
Little K thinks this is hilarious

wait on hold for 10 minutes to explain to AT&T why they screwed up our bill again

work on project
Little K on lap. type one handed.
Punks hanging off back choking my neck

write few more paragraphs. change diaper. few more paragraphs. fix Punks food. come back to Punks at mommy's computer with finger on delete button. -4 paragraphs. how did she even know where the delete button was?

wait on hold for 10 minutes to ask Direct TV why our receiver is out again

Little K screams
Punks is wrapping her head in a blanket

pet duck in backyard
feed pet duck. glad he is back after dog nearly ate him for Easter brunch.

Punks stripped Little K naked and covered her with baby butt cream

nap time for both babies
work on project

girls awake
change diapers. snack.

Punks wants to dance.
Little K wants to be held. type paper one handed.
Punks rides dog like horse.
Punks rides mommy's leg like horse 
repeat. repeat. repeat.

duck back again.
feed pet duck.

take computer outside 
dog chasing birds.
Punks chasing dog.
dog barking
girls squealing


hubby home.
"What did my girls do today?"
where do I begin...?

doorbell. babysitter here.
my apologies the house looks like toys r us blew up.
"Punks must clean up ALL her toys before bed."

yeah right

Roccos Tacos: Taco Tuesday
more like tequila Tuesday...

single goal for tomorrow? 
finish school project.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011


My sister got married to her perfect match a few weeks ago.  I was the Matron of Honor. duh.  My oldest daughter, the flower girl. again, duh.  


The perfect setting.  The church was where we grew up.  Attended so many Sundays with our Nana and GDaddy who were so powerfully present, watching over us, giving their blessings alongside God. I don't think I even took my eyes of K the whole time. Except to sneak a glance at Chris once or twice.


We danced, we ate, we partied. There were friends, family and peacocks.  The band played for an extra few hours.  Just long enough for everyone to really get their P-A-R-T-Y on.  The boys did the suspender dance. The father of the groom did his break dance.  Everyone did the Texas Two Step. 

There was only one thing that didn't come out perfect. I was only able to spit out half my speech. If you know me well enough, you know I get weak in the knees talking in front of adults.  clarification: I am not an adult. I am worlds away from my parents. my parents are adults.   I can speak to my peers. I can teach math and science to a room full of teenage punks. There are many people and situations I can handle, but not speaking in front of adults.

So, K I apologize. I wrote it out in hopes I could just read it, but it didn't turn out that way. So, here it is.  The speech I intended to say with all my love.
I cant believe my little sister is getting married.  It seems like yesterday she was following me around trying on all my clothes and getting into all of my stuff.  She has gone from my annoying little sister to a beautiful young woman. I look to her and see the kind of person I want to be.  She sees the good in people. She brings out the best in you.  She makes you laugh with her silliness and sometimes complete unawareness of what is happening outside of the Kathryn bubble.  Geographically and otherwise.   Every passing year we have continued to grow closer. I help her with math. She helps me spell.  I tried to explain to her how to kiss a boy and she explains over and over to me how I can take a better picture so that I don’t look so ridiculous in front of the flash. 

She called me a few years ago about a new boy. From the very first phone call I knew he was different. There was this manager guy hanging around the nursery checking on her and the other girls who worked there to make sure they were doing their job right. He was really cute so she didn’t mind him checking in on them.  One day she was excited because he told her she was needed in the kitchen to help him cut the valentines cake. You know, she told me. He does everything. He is the operations manager or something. You know, he handles the operations of the club.  When he doesn’t have enough people in the kitchen he even helps cut cake.  Um, Kathryn I asked… Do you think it is possible he is hanging around the nursery to see you?  And I am quite certain he doesn’t have to cut cake, but perhaps he wants to cut cake with you?

After the cake cutting she and Christopher snuck around Westside for a while. Then Kathryn got her dream job teaching her beautiful Autistic children and they didn’t have to sneak anymore.  So, as Kathryn and I are downing tequila shots at Guadalahara waiting for Christopher to come meet us for their first non secret meeting her nerves were running high. .. I think we may have had a few to many shots to calm her nerves, but none the less it worked. She was being Kathryn in all of her silliness and fun.  Christopher met us, had one beer, laughed at us, picked up the tab and he and Kathryn disappeared for a few minutes.  When she met me back in the car I just looked at her… WELL?  Yep, great kisser she reported happily.

Not to long after that Christopher called me and said he was going to ask her to marry him.  The perfect match made in heaven.  Chris, I am so thrilled to have you as a brother in law and most importantly, a friend. You couldn’t be more perfect for Kathryn. She is the happiest I have ever seen her.  A little spoiled, but I suppose you know what your getting yourself into. right? Congrats to you both. I love you and I know you will live happily ever after.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011


Yesterday morning I heard a muffled scream from Punks as she was pressed against the bedroom window, "MAMA!" One very old duck was waddling around our backyard. "duck" I tell her. I can see the wheels turning in her head.... it is not yellow? it is not floating in my bathtub? "No, mama" she corrects me very calmly, "birrrrd".   We had this same run in the day before when she corrected me on ants. They were not ants, they were bugs.  duh, mama.

10 minutes passed. 20 minutes. Still watching the duck bird waddle around the yard.  Okay, lets go outside and get a close up of this fascinating creature.

"Don't run, you will scare him!" as she sprints out the door all squeals.  Turns out he was not scared.  He opened his wings and let out this crazy QUAAAKKKKK.  Punks u-turns and sprints back towards me, eyes wide.

Plan B. Clearly this duck is used to being harassed by little humans.

I scoop up Punks and we fetch a piece of bread from the house.  Yep, now he wants to be friends with us.

Piece by piece we give him some bread. At that point she was satisfied. On to the next adventure. "Byyyyeee birrrrrrd! seeeee uuuuuu laterrrrr birrrrrd!"

And we did. This morning I pull back the curtains and our little friend was waiting for us.  I have had many dogs, some fish, never a cat and definitely never a pet duck before. Could be an interesting change.


Saturday, March 26, 2011


I have quite a few friends who claim they LOVE being fat, swollen, hormonal preggers.  um, huh?  I have had two babies and nothing about being pregnant equals love.  You swell up so big you dont even recognize your own ankles. Heart burn rages. Hormones fly out of control. Your back hurts. Your knees hurt. Hell, everything hurts.

The only thing that made me feel better was exercise. I craved it.  Had to have it. Couldn't live without it. every. single. day.  Right up until the day before birth. I would have gone the day I gave birth if I hadn't gone into labor so early in the day. Every morning before my hubbie got engulfed in his work I would ask, "Soooooo, when can I exercise today?" I could feel the roll of his eyes.  He really didn't have time to take 3 hours out of his day to babysit a crazy toddler so I could exercise, but he did it.  For me. For my sanity. For his own sanity.

So once a day I would head to Bikram yoga or to the pool where I could sweat and get those addictive endorphins pumping so I would be a little less psychotic crazy.  At least for 24 hours or so.

The weeks passed and my belly grew and grew. and grew.  At the pool I would wear a two piece. Yes, I did.  At yoga I wore tiny shorts and a tank top. Why not just a sports bra you ask?  because  There were certain poses that showed off my growing back fat rolls. I have an opposition to back fat.  It is gross.  I bought some XL tanks, but they were so huge and whale-ish.  And then I stumbled on For Two Fitness.  The tanks hugged my belly.  They hid my back fat. They were comfortable. They were super cute!  I fell in love!  Oh wait, something I loved about being pregnant? Anytime you don't feel like a whale when your pregnant equals love in my book.  Even if just for a few hours.



A beautiful baby.  No more swelling. No more bloating. No more heart burn. No more raging hormones.  Fantastic.  Oh wait, I forgot she has to eat every two hours.  even at night.  Sleep deprivation. Poopy diapers. Spit up. Sure is cute though laying there gurgling bubbles at me. Wonder what she is thinking.

I think... I will go back to yoga. Keep wearing my For Two Fitness tanks for now.  Until I lose the baby belly.  Hopefully, people will just think I am preggers, not sporting a beer belly.  you know you care what people think of you too... yes, you do.


Thursday, February 24, 2011


A screaming cry from Little K wrenched me from sleep this morning. After I tucked my heart back into my chest I checked the clock. 3:38am. awesome.

Of course Little K ate and went right back to sleep. I was wide awake so I started to pack. We have been in Texas for a few months, coming from LA and are finally headed out to Florida next week. While it has been a fabulous adventure shacking up with my parents, we must say goodbye. There are a few new claw prints in their hardwood, scribbles on the wall and stains on the couch. We even managed to take down the whole house with the flu passed on from one germy Punks. All of this to say thank you. We are a family that gives.

booties to save the hardwood

I was thrilled to get out of the city of nuts where so many strive for such perfection that they loose the sense of who they really are.  Hollywood is no role model yet everyone wants to be part of the hype. All of this while the homeless guy on the corner jumps out and scares you every time you pass by.  Don't get me wrong, it was much fun in the beginning, but once I had kids, I realized just how shallow the pool really was.

That being said...

I am sure Florida will bring a whole new adventure. When I scrolled the website for our new community, I came across a list of social groups you could take part in. While I might be tempted to be part of the book club, garden club, rotary, bunko club ... um never mind, I have never really been a "club" sort of girl. Oh wait, maybe the Moms Club? Consisting of "a special group of women and children that coordinate play dates and activities to fill our days with a little less stress and a little more fun!"
The International MOMS Club® is an international non-profit organization aimed at providing support for mothers who have chosen to stay home and raise their children. They also have some members that work part-time. Founded in 2002, the MOMS Club® includes member moms of varying ages, with kids ranging from newborns up to school aged.

So, off we are on our new adventure. Thank goodness for my husband. While I have always been independent, I can't imagine the road now without him.  I have high hopes for Florida. A place we will raise our kids and live happily ever after. Maybe without some of the featured social groups.

Kinda like the the booger Punks dug out of her nose this morning and wiped on my leg.  "ahhhh, boogie mama me" Life consists of the good, the bad, the boogie. 

Although I am hoping...

we have made a few friends who can vouch for us before they realize I blogged about them prematurely...

... just in case I do decide to join a featured social group