Prison Shoes and Kindergarten Registration.

Sooooooooooo.............

Yeah.  It's been almost a year since I've written in here.  Whoops.  Sorry.  I got into a funk.  I'm trying to ease out of it so I can be entertaining once again.  I'll try to do better this year.

We have hit a pretty major milestone in this household and I felt I needed to share.  Today was KINDERGARTEN REGISTRATION!  I've talked about this day for years.  YEARS (Toddlerhood is not my strongpoint)!  It is finally here.  

Even though I was extremely excited for this day, I was also extremely anxious.  My anxiety peeks its head out for silly things.  I grew up in small town Iowa.  For the first six years of my schooling, I went to a two room school that was associated with our church.  I have no memories of any type of "registration."  In sixth grade, I started going to public school in town.  All I remember of that is a long line, standing in the band room, and going home with the ever popular Warrior homework planner thingie.  I had NO idea how things work in fancy smancy Washington and for some reason this gave me a lot of unnecessary anxiety.  Maddie's teacher was very patient and put up with my "million" silly questions like:  "Do I just show up at the school?  I go to this school right?"  Anxiety or not, today was the day so I put on my best Leeroy Jenkins face on and started the day.

The kids made the morning pretty easy.  I actually got up when my alarm went off and took a shower.  Mad got up, ate her breakfast, and basically did most of her morning routine on her own with little prompting from me.  Dexter woke up about 20 minutes later and I was able to get him dressed without much struggle.  While Dex was devouring the dinosaurs in his oatmeal, I ran upstairs to get ready.  So I pulled on my mom uniform (yay for yoga pants), strapped the ladies up in my Bosom Restraining Apparatus, threw on a tank top along with my short sleeve hoodie thing (because after all we don't want to scare children now do we?).  I was about ready to call it good when I thought, "Hey!  I should wear the new shoes I just bought."  So I grab a pair of socks and quickly throw on my new shoes.  They are nothing exciting.  Just cheapie canvas shoes that were on uber sale to replace my Chucks.  I love my Chucks.  Love them!  But they hurt me.  Sometimes when I wear them, I feel something sharp and it rubs off the skin on my foot.  I can't feel anything when I rub my fingers against the inside of the shoe.  This only happens when I'm actually wearing the shoe.  It is annoying to say the least.  My other option was flip flops but I have been seeing this meme a lot and I have not done my "Baby Feet" treatment yet this year.  New shoes it is.

The kids are nearly ready.  I pop into my office to gather the necessary paperwork for this magical moment.  I revel in the fact that I'm so organized.  Each child has a folder with their important information in it.  I grab Maddie's folder, open it.....and there is nothing in there.  What. The. Hell.  I manage to maintain and not lose it as I shuffle around everything trying to find Maddie's birth certificate and shot records.  I find them in Dexter's folder.  Hmmph.  So much for organized.  I quickly log in and start to print off our utility bill for proof of residence.  We have lived here since April 2012.  I just realized that not only is my name NOT on the bill, but my husband's name is spelled wrong.  This is taking entirely too long.  I grab the folder that has our lease in it, along with the utility bill, Mad's birth certificate and shot record.  Between all of this, I should be fine.  Yes?  YES!  Let's do this!

So I drop Maddie off at preschool, ask her poor teacher again just how to do this, and set off on my merry way.  On the drive to the school, I keep thinking that I hope the entrance is marked or something.  Knowing my luck, I would just bounce right into a classroom or gym, Dexter would decide to throw a massive tantrum and we totally get kicked out and asked never to come back (yeah blame the "Very Worried Walrus" book from my childhood for this way of thinking).

I pull into the school parking lot.  Hmmm.  No huge "KINDERGARTEN REGISTRATION" signs.  Now I imagine someone calling the cops for me lurking around the building trying to find out where I'm supposed to go.  I have Dex with me though.  Hopefully I look more like frazzled mother and less like crazy child stalking psycho.  With that thought, I hop out of the car and happen to look down at my shoes.  Maybe it's just the way my yoga pants rest on top of them, but I totally look like I'm wearing prison slippers.  What. The. Hell. Target!



Well at least I know what to wear while watching the new season of Orange Is The New Black.

I momentarily think about driving home real quick and swapping out for flip flops (talons be damned), but get Dex out of his car seat instead.  I'm Leeroy Jenkins today damn it.

I slowly walk up to the building, deciding that the door under the name of the school would be my best bet.  A mom and her little boy was leaving as I was walking toward the door.  I ask her if this is the door to the office.  She says it is.  HA!  I win.  Anxiety you lose.  The rest of this is cake.  I almost start running/dragging Dexter to the door.

A Very Nice Chick (or VNC so I don't have to type so much) points me to the sign in sheet!  I eagerly sign in and grab the packet of paperwork.  I sit down in the chair directly by the table, but VNC points out that they have a table in the hallway with paper and coloring instruments so Dex would be entertained.  "Oh good," I say, "Whatever keeps him out of the way."  VNC replies, "Yes because we have no tolerance for children getting in the way here.  It's only a school after all."  And she winks at me.  Awwww.  Sarcasm.  I can feel at ease here.  I manage to keep from jumping over the desk and hugging VNC and find a spot at the table.

Dexter is in heaven.  He goes right to town with markers and draws me a little toddler masterpiece.  He pulls out a Sharpie and I start to think "What kind of mad house is this?" but he is content so I start the paperwork.

All is well and good.  It is SOOOO weird putting Maddie's name down.  So weird.  I fill out most of the paperwork with ease.  Name.  Address.  Phone Number.  No health concerns.  Piece of cake!  Then we get to the part I always dread.  Shot records.  This isn't really a big deal but my mind turns it into one of those life threatening Jigsaw puzzles from the Saw movies.



Hello Renee.

I would like to play a game.

To your left is your daughter's shot record that has been filled out by the nurses administering the shots.

To your right is the official shot record form that is kept by the school.

To complete this task, you must transfer the information from your form to mine.

Be careful.  Some of the abbreviations do not match up.

For an added challenge, your 4G will not be working in this area.  So you will be unable to google which shot is which.  You must rely completely on your tired mom brain.

Filling out this form incorrectly could mean complications in sending your child to school.  Meaning she will be with you 24/7....FOREVER.

Good luck.  The clock is ticking.


Apparently, I'm not the only one who struggles with this.  There are a couple other moms at the table who are fighting the same battle.  We pull together and figure it out.  :)   I love those mom bonding moments.

As an added bonus, I see my neighbor walk in as I'm finishing up.  I totally forgot her daughter would be starting this year as well so Maddie will know at least ONE person.  Yes!  This day is full of win...prison shoes be damned.  She asks me if we are signing up for morning or afternoon.  I blurt out, "All of them!  I mean we are going to front the big bucks to do full day."  Neighbor smiles. I smile.  Smiles all around.

I go back to VNC and hand her my packet.  I apologize for errors with the shot record.  She asks if she can make a copy of my version of the shots and Mad's birth certificate.  She confirms and everything looks accurate.  Take that Mental Jigsaw!  Take that Crappy Meddling Anxiety!   I win!

I ask a few more questions, while holding onto an unhappy Dexter who wants to dart back to the markers, and then practically skip back to the car.

MY DAUGHTER IS REGISTERED FOR KINDERGARTEN!

Eeeek!

And no one even noticed my creepy prison shoes!  :)

Why Yes I Smell Like Old Spice. Thanks For Noticing!

Today, I had to leave the house to run some errands.  I know right?  Big day for me.  I had to put on pants!  But anyway...I was walking to drop off my rent check and I walked past two women talking.  As I was walking back to my car, I heard one of them whisper:  "Is it just me or does that chick smell like a guy?"  I could barely contain my giggles.  Yes.  Today I smell of man!  As always, I have a perfectly good reason why I smell like a man today and I thought my loyal blog followers would like to read about it.  

I'm sure that if you have been following my Facebook posts, you know that my shower has been out of commission for almost 2 weeks.  The door fell off and nearly decapitated me (the Man Upstairs likes to keep me on my toes just for funsies).  Yesterday, a maintenance man finally came by and fixed it!  I meant to take a shower the night before but I was tired and passed out so today was the magical day!  Maddie was enthralled with watching Curious George episodes with the babysitter, Mr. TV.  Dexter had been fed and was driving his little plastic dump truck around the living room so I thought:  "Score!  Shower time!"  

I rushed up the stairs and stripped down to my birthday suit and started the water.  I had one leg in when I realized that ALL of my shower stuff was in the kid's bathroom.  No biggie.  I leave the water on and streak ****WHEEEEEEEEE**** to the other side of the house and grab my shampoo, conditioner, face wash, extra toothbrush and toothpaste (which by the way moms....if you want an extra 5 minutes of peace in the shower, start brushing your teeth in there!  It is awesome...trust me!) and poof.  Hell, I even grab a towel, because after all I'm the master of planning ahead right?  I streak back and set the things on the shelf in the shower.  But wait.  I'm missing something.  Soap!  Crap.  I rush back to the kid's bathroom only to remember that Miss Madeleine had gotten a hold of it and crumbled it all to pieces.  I need new soap.  Luckily for me, I was on top of my game one day and I bought a large pack because I knew I only had one left.  Unfortunately, for me I was also lazy that day and left the bag with the soap in the garage. 

I would like to note that most normal people would just throw on a robe and go downstairs and get the soap and carry on.  I am not normal.  At this point, putting anything back on would be counter productive. I begrudgingly turn off the water and start walking downstairs preparing myself to face "The Gauntlet."  

"The Gauntlet" is the hallway that runs from our half bath to the garage.  There are three decent sized windows along this hallway plus a baby gate to keep my son from munching on cat food.  The windows look out to the street.  There are no trees, no bushes, hell there aren't even blinds on 2 of the windows.  Hence, it is called "The Gauntlet."

It doesn't look so bad....until you are about to run down it NAKED!  


So, I paused at the bottom of the stairs, crossed myself and started my "Please God don't let anyone be standing outside my house or driving by my house or looking out their own windows" mantra.  I pass the first window with no problems, move the baby gate to the side, take a deep breath and then run at "boob flapping" speed past the remaining two windows.  I pause, hear no one mocking the naked fat woman and open my garage door to look for my renegade soap.  

After a few minutes of tearing about in my garage, naked as the day I was born (it is really cold in my garage...FYI), I found the bag, wedged in between two boxes.  I dance a little victory dance and prepare for my return dash through "The Gauntlet."  I'm victorious once again and I'm half way up the stairs until I realize that I forgot to put the baby gate back up.  Dexter eats cat food like it's a delicacy so I swore like a sailor, set the boxes of soap (I got an 8 pack....hey it was on sale!) on my kitchen counter.  I'm not too worried this time...after all I'm only running one third of "The Gauntlet."

After all of this, Dexter has become quite concerned so he felt the need to come check on me.  Maddie is still oblivious to the whole thing much thanks to that naughty little monkey and his banana color obsessed human friend.  At this point, Dexter has discovered that I had indeed abandoned him in the living room and is now throwing a fit.  So I carry him back to his trucks and finally get him distracted so I can slip away to the sweet bliss that is my shower.

I march my naked ass proudly back up to my bathroom, put the water on as hot as I can stand and melt.  I love showers.  I slowly massage my shampoo into my hair and then brush my teeth (again...seriously...I love brushing my teeth in the shower).  I wash my face.  I rinse out my hair and add my conditioner and I reach for my poof and my soap.....and my soap....seriously where the FUCK is my soap?  Oh yeah.  Downstairs.  On my kitchen counter.  Where I left it.   Hmmmph.

At this point, I have two options.  I can run downstairs again naked with the added bonus of looking like a drowned rat this time or I can embrace my inner man and use the Old Spice body wash that Dieter left here.  I went with option two.  Dexter has now figured out what I'm doing and has come upstairs to stand at the edge of the tub and mock me while I finish my shower.

I get out smelling like bona fide man.  I'm pretty sure that by smell alone I could have gotten to at LEAST second base with some lucky lady, maybe even third but let's face it.  I'm a gentleman.  At least, I don't smell like rotting under boob rash so I feel good about going out and facing the public.

So yes random ladies outside of Remax.  I smell like man.  Jealous aren't you?

Either way, I'm not too disgruntled about the situation.  I'm pretty sure that the Man Upstairs is entertained by my hi jinks on a regular basis.  After paying rent, I stopped by Wendy's to pick up dinner.  Hey, it was National Bacon day and what better way to celebrate this fabulous holiday then to pick up a Baconator?!  Anyway, when I pulled up to the window to pay for my order, the guy offered me a free large Frosty.

I smell like a stud AND I got a free dessert.  If that doesn't make the day a total success, then call me a monkey's uncle!  A fine smelling monkey's uncle at that.

Breast Reduction Journey: Part 1 - The History of Boobs

So most of you who read my blog are all friends who know me.  So it comes as no surprise when I say I have boobs.  I have referred to them as "colossal milk bags of doom."  This isn't a new problem.  I've always had huge boobs.  I remember wearing underwire bras in Jr. High.  I remember getting ready for school in the morning and dressing in front of a mirror and thinking, "My breasts are so ugly."  You can ask my mother how stressful it was to go prom dress shopping with me.  There was always a battle between finding something that was cute, yet practical so I could wear a special bra because there was no way I could ever go without one.  Swimsuit shopping would always end in tears and I was always limited to a black one piece that would hopefully I wouldn't pop out of.  Getting new show choir dresses was pretty traumatic.  We went from tuxedo shirts and flowing skirts to fitted red disasters that only looked great on one body type.  It was made even worse when a teacher made an inappropriate comment about how I didn't look good in the dress because my breasts were so big.  High school is also the time when I first started to have back problems.  I remember sitting on my stool in band thinking I was going to pass out from the pain of back spasms.  

My first two years of college were slighter better.  People obviously noticed them, but I didn't get a lot of comments.  I had a lot of support from my friends.  Literally.  They would offer to walk behind me and hold them up as to give my back a break!  I love my friends!   :)  Shakespearean Theatre class was probably my favorite class because I got to wear a corset.  I mean a REAL corset with whale bones.  It was the only time I felt any real relief because the corset did ALL the work that my back had to do.  Unfortunately, the professor knew this and made me personally turn mine in at the end of class every time.  ;)  I would have worn that thing all day if she had let me.  My back spasms got worse.

Then I dropped out of school for a year, regrouped and started going to ISU with Dieter.  And well....boys make you fat.  I did gain a bunch of weight from always eating at the food court.  I started WW with a few friends and I actually lost 30 lbs the first time around.  Guess what.  My bra size stayed the same.  At this point, they had become more of a side show.  People always stare.  If I went to the bar, I couldn't go to the bathroom without being groped by random drunk girls.  Always the same questions.  What size are those?  Are those real?  Can I touch them?  Can you wait here so my friends can touch them?  

After several threats (ha ha), Dieter finally proposed!  Yay!  I was going to get married.  A good friend went "wedding dress" (it was just a JOP ditty so I just wanted a "nice" outfit) shopping with me.  I told her to be prepared for a lot of dressing room meltdowns because between my weight and my breast size there would be lots of tears.  She thought I was joking.  She is now scarred for life and I'm pretty sure that she will never go clothes shopping with me again.  Sorry Wendy!  :)  

I believe it was June 2006 when I actually had a real consultation with a plastic surgeon about my breasts.  The guy was super nice and had a wicked sense of humor.  I remember sitting on a table after about 4 people had touched my breasts.  He walked in and pretended to faint.  He then said, "Oh my goodness girl.  How can you even stay upright?"  I replied, "What?  You mean I can't go bigger?"  "Oh sweetheart if you were any bigger, you would get knocked over by a stiff breeze."  I liked him instantly.  He told me that just by LOOKING at my breasts that he would be able to remove about 2-3 lbs from each breast.  Think about that for a minute.  2-3 lbs from each breast.  And still have boob left over.  I told him that I was trying really hard to lose weight and I had lost several pounds.  He told me that it really wouldn't matter because I don't have a lot of fat tissue in my breasts.  I have mostly mammary tissue.  Which means I could could get to my goal weight and still have giant boobs.  He was very gung ho about this surgery and how I would feel so much better and how he really wanted to help me.  Unfortunately, I was 6 months from being kicked off my parents insurance.  I kept calling the plastic surgeon and they kept telling me that they had submitted all the paperwork on their end but they never heard back from the insurance company.  Either way, it never worked out because Dieter ended up being stationed in WA and we moved away.  I was in a strange new place where I knew no one, let alone someone who could refer me to a good plastic surgeon so it was put on hold.

It's now 2012.  I have two children now.  They are now out of control.

Yep.  That is a picture when I was 3ish months pregnant with Dex.  I was wearing a bra that was way too small.  I still wear that bra by the way because I really know of no place that actually carries bras that big.  I really can't afford to just by bras cold on the internet, try on a bunch and then send back the ones that don't fit.  While I was pregnant, I put my measurements into an online bra measurement calculator.  Now I'm pretty confident that the number is wrong because I couldn't get a good measurement but it said 50G.  Umm....yeah....pretty sure that's why my DDD bra isn't fitting.

It has gotten so much worse.  I can't find clothes.  Seriously.  I have the choice of looking like I'm wearing a mu mu or looking like a whore with my tits out.  My back can not take me doing even the most simplest of workouts.  Hell, I can't even use my inversion table because my breasts are so heavy that they feel like they are going to tear off.  I would say I have to be at least an H now.  It is to the point that my introductions are now something like this.  "Hello.  My name is Renee.  Yep, I have giant boobs.  Yes, they are real.  Yes, they hurt my back and I guess you can touch them.    Either way, I have decided that I can finally do something.  I was ready to try again for the surgery and not only change my body but change my identity as well.  Which is why I was so excited for my appointment today.  I felt like I was finally on the road to a change that has been needed for almost 12 years.  This is also why I have to feel the need to blog about my experience....especially about what happened to me today.  

Going to the doctor is very very hard for me.  They ALWAYS give me crap about my weight.  It is why I don't go.  Ever.  I seriously only went to the dr. when I was pregnant with Maddie and Dexter because I wanted to make sure I got an epidural.  I have to give myself a pep talk before I even check in and I spend most of the visit in "fight or flight" mode.  Today was no different.

I was actually really excited about today.  It should have been just a quick visit.  I was simply getting a referral from the primary care giver so I could have a consult with the plastic surgeon.  They weighed me (ugg) but the nurse was really nice and didn't give me crap about it so I was hopeful.  She took my temperature and my blood pressure (which she made it a point to tell me that my blood pressure was beyond excellent.....I'm feeling slightly less nervous).  I think I confused them because I wasn't there because I was sick.  I was there because I wanted to start the ball rolling for this breast reduction.  I explained the the nurse about the chronic back pain, the boob rashes, and the tears from the inability to find clothes that actually fit.  She was very sympathetic.  I also told her how it was extremely hard for me to lose weight now because there are very few exercises I can do without my back flaring up.  She didn't give me crap about my weight.  As a matter of fact, she was very confident that this would really help me and that I was still young enough that weight loss (although slower) would still work pretty well for me.  So she gave me a gown and told me that she wasn't sure if the doctor would want to look at them or not, but to just undress from the waist up.  She then freaked that I haven't had a mammogram and then decided that I was too young to start those.  I assured her that I had had a breast exam during my pregnancy.  She was cool with that and left me to wait.  And wait I did.

It wasn't long before Dr. Doom showed up.  That wasn't her name but that's how I felt about her toward the end of the visit.  She shook my hand and we talked a little about why I had come to see them.  I made it QUITE CLEAR that I was just here to get a referral for a breast reduction.  I tell her about the chronic back pain.  I SHOWED her the discoloration that the rashes had left under my breasts.  She gives me a prescription for a powder to help when I have the rashes.  Ummmm, that's all fine and good.  That will help it go away, but a breast reduction will help stop it in the first place.  Let's not get off topic here doc.  She then tells me that she will write a referral but that I will probably get denied.  Umm what?  I'm not sure what doctor would deny me.  I have had random strangers come up to relay their sympathies to my back.  I won't lie.  I got a little snotty with her.  I said that I was pretty sure that no doctor would allow me to remain in this kind of pain when it is obvious that this one surgery would help me out so much.  She then tells me that they will probably tell me to try to lose weight first.  Happy feeling gone.  Oh great.  You are one of the weight Nazis.  My "fight or flight" response is starting to come back and I'm trying my best not to break out into tears.  So I tell her yes.  I know I am overweight.  I am trying to change that but it's awfully hard when I'm limited to what exercise I can do.  She then goes on to say that I can lose weight by just watching what I eat and I wouldn't have to exercise.  Okay.  I'm so done.  You are obviously a quack.  Yes.  Watching your food intake is VERY important.  That is why they tell you to journal your food.  However, in EVERY SINGLE WEIGHT LOSS PROGRAM KNOWN TO MAN, it will tell you to pair it with an exercise routine.  You NEED exercise to help get your metabolism working.  Do the people on the Biggest Loser just watch what they eat and then sit on their asses all day.  No!  They work their shit off in the gym.  They do last chance workouts before their weigh in in order to try to lose a little more.  And even if I did lose weight, my boobs will STILL be monstrosities.  And it's not like I'm pulling this out of my ass.  I have been told this by an actual plastic surgeon.

Dr. Doom wouldn't drop it.  She just kept going on about how I just needed to lose weight.  Umm..yeah.  I get it.  I had to lie and tell her that yes I was dieting and I had already lost 5 lbs just so she would shut the FUCK up.  She still kept saying that I was going to be denied.  I told her that she needed to do the referral anyway.  I'm not sure how they can deny me WITHOUT setting up an appointment to actually SEE my breasts, but whatever.  

Then of course it says in my notes that I had Gestational Diabetes.  Lord, not THIS again.  Like that didn't give me anxiety throughout my ENTIRE last 10 weeks of my pregnancy.  I haven't even gone to take the test to make sure my blood sugar went back to normal, because it nearly sends me into a panic attack.  They seem to assume that just because I'm chunky that I'm going to have a shit load of issues.  So anyway, she is like "So you have GD."  I'm like "No, I HAD GD with my son.  He is 6 months old now.  I'm fairly confident that I'm fine now."  She kept going on and on about no you HAVE GD.  Seriously.  Come on.  So she ordered the stupid glucose test and then because I'm "fat" she wants a cholesterol test.  At this point, I'm like I'm so done.  Just write the damn referral so I can leave.  

She did write one and then told me to wait at least 24 hours and then try to make an appointment with the plastic surgeon.  I left the clinic almost in tears.  I honestly don't see how they WOULD deny me, but now I, of course, have that thought in my head.  Seriously.  This dr. was a quack.  Why do I ALWAYS get the bad ones?  I'm going to try to stay positive, but she really rained on my parade and what better place to vent then in my blog where I have the support of so many.  Hopefully, this will be the last "bad" experience I have on this journey.  But I will try to keep you all abreast (ha ha ha) of the situation.  

Grocery Shopping With 2: Part 2

I'm sure you all remember my first adventure.  If not, go read it really quick.  I'll wait.

*******

Well, yesterday I decided I had to go grocery shopping AGAIN.  I had made it almost a month without going, but you know how it is

Fair question!

  

Last time was, for all intensive purposes, a success.  I went to the store and did indeed get groceries.  However, it wasn't pleasant.  I agree with Mr. Einstein when he says, " Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."  ***At least that is who Google says said it.  I could be wrong.***  Anyway, I couldn't use the wrap again.  Don't get me wrong.  I LOVE my wrap, but I just can't use it when I need to actually be doing things.  It is fine when I'm just going to be walking around and need to be holding Dexter for a long period of time.  However, my arm length is too severely compromised when I wear it to do anything effectively.  Lately, my back has been hurting me so that's another reason the wrap was just not an option.  Dexter is turning into a little porkchop and he is HEAVY.  I needed to find a better way to do this.  So I did.  I changed several aspects.

1)  I didn't go on a Saturday.  It almost killed me as that was my routine.  I actually went on a Wednesday.  I also went at 8AM.  It was blissfully dead.  I had to lug both children to the store because there were NO carts in the cart corrals in the parking lot.  

2) I also changed HOW I shopped.  Usually I start at the back of the store and zig zag so that when I'm done I can just run to the check out.  This time I started on the second aisle (which I think the mayo, dressing, peanut butter aisle).  I ended at the frozen section, bopped over to the baby section for Dexter's formula and some ravioli meals for Mad and then I shopped along the outside (where the cheeses, lunchmeat, hamburger, chicken etc).  With a quick dart into the bread aisle, we then finished up with fresh fruits and veggies.  I can't believe how smoothly this went.  I actually had MORE groceries this time, but I had PLENTY of room in my cart.  Usually I just have to carry the bananas because they fall off on the way to the check out counter.  I know that most people will laugh when they read this part, but I have been shopping the SAME way for almost 5 years now.  This was a big change for me.  

3)  This was the biggest change:  the "child arrangement."  I left Dexter in his carseat and put the carseat up on the "seat part" of the cart.  Please, spare me the lectures of how it's not safe and what not unless you are going to offer to babysit when I go grocery shopping. :P  Honestly, we will be ditching the infant car seat in a month or so and he will be in Mad's old convertible carseat (she is getting a bigger one!) so he will be sitting on his own in the cart seat soon enough.  

I put Maddie in the "cart" part.  A friend (yes Pam...I mean you!  :) ) actually suggested this.  I'm not going to lie.  I thought she was bonkers.  I guess because I was picturing something like this:

Whoopsie!

It actually worked pretty slick!  Mad enjoyed being in the cart.  She was actually my "helper."  I would hand her things and she would organize them or stack them.  This kept her fully occupied until we were at the frozen food section.  She started to voice concern because things were falling on her.  So I *gasp* let her out and she walked beside me....kinda.  She did run behind or ahead of me at times, but she stayed in view.  There were very FEW people in the store so she wasn't bothering anyone and the people who did see her thought she was just adorable.  Plus, she had spent over half the trip organizing the things in the cart so she still wanted say over where things went in there.  So I would hand them to her and she would put them in the cart.  I was very very VERY proud of her!  

We only had one altercation and it was at the very end of the trip.  I was looking for a check out register and I found one (actually there were THREE in a row with NO line.....I'm going on a Wednesday at 8AM every time from here on out!).  Maddie, however, was drunk with freedom and decided to take off on a dead sprint.  Considering this is like my biggest fear when we are out in public, I freaked and ran after her.  She ran all the way to the other entrance to the store.  It was probably quite a sight.  She was sprinting and  I was sprinting after her with a FULL cart with one hand on the carseat so Dexter wouldn't fly off if we hit something.  Thankfully, there were 3 Walmart employees who were working on a display.  One of them stepped in front of her, stranger danger kicked in and she stopped.  I thanked that chick over and over again.  We might have ended up in the garden section if she hadn't stopped my daughter.  I parked my cart by the display and walked the 6 feet over to get her.  I left the cart because I couldn't see her over it and didn't want to accidentally hit her and also because she was kinda freaked out by seeing a giant cart coming at her at full speed....wouldn't you be?  I say again, the store was pretty empty and I parked the cart with a sleeping Dexter who was strapped into his carseat and firmly attached to the cart next to the display that THREE Walmart employees were working on.  I grabbed Maddie and as I was walking the 6 feet back to the cart, a random guy goes "Sheesh just leave the baby unattended."  *eye roll*  Yes.  He was so unattended.  I'm pretty sure the employees would have said something if someone had tried to take Dexter in the 4 seconds it took to walk up to Maddie and bring her up to the cart.  If he had seen the situation 20 seconds earlier, he probably would have made some smart ass comment about how I let my child run all over the store.  Either way, he looked like a man who sat on the couch and drank beer while his wife raised the children.  Hey.....if he can ASSume about me then I can totally ASSume about him  :P  I just rolled my eyes and made Mad hold on to the cart as I walked to the checkout.  

I was pretty happy as I was walking out to the car.  To make things even better as I was putting my groceries in the back of the Edge I hear, "Could I help you out with that ma'am?"  A cutie employee, who was checking the cart corrals, helped me load the rest of my groceries into my car.  Good day indeed.  I'll overlook that he called me ma'am.  :)

Either way, I have to say that my daughter was a total rock star on this shopping trip!  Other then the end, she was amazing and I'm so proud of her for being such a big girl and a great helper!  

I will soooo be doing it this way from here on out!!!!!

Parenting Is......

One of my favorite books when I was little was a Peanuts book.  It is called Happiness Is A Warm Puppy.  It is an adorable read and it talks about all the little things that make little kids happy.

Awww how sweet!

My sarcastic ass thinks that there should be a book that describes parenting in this format.  You know...not the warm fuzzy moments (everyone already knows about those!).....the real aspects of parenting.  It should be in the bassinet at the hospital.  It's a work in progress but here are a couple tidbits  :)

*Parenting is discovering closed captioning/subtitles for the TV and appreciating their usefulness.

*Parenting is forgetting to shut the bathroom door at a friend's house because you are unaware that phenomenon is even possible anymore.

*Parenting is realizing that crafts with toddlers is not for the weak of heart.

*Parenting is waking up to someone staring at you in the middle of the night and not being allowed to scream or react violently.

*Parenting is having a potty in the middle of your living room and reveling in its usefulness as apposed to its grossness factor.

*Parenting is planning a bunch of things to do when the children finally go to bed and not doing any of them because you passed out yourself.

*Parenting is being drooled, spit up, peed, and pooped on all in the same day.

*Parenting is debating on whether or not leaving the house with the kid(s) is worth going to get the particular item you need and usually deciding that it is not.

*Parenting is getting your child a band aid for a fake boo boo only to have said child scream bloody murder and run off after you take the band aid out of the wrapper.

*Parenting is being able to find a stuffed animal in 5 minutes flat, but taking 3 hours or more to find your car keys.

*Parenting is having poop get under your fingernails.

*Parenting is explaining why light bulbs cannot go in your mouth.

*Parenting is explaining that you can actually dance WITH your clothes on and then losing that particular battle.

*Parenting is pretending to eat your baby's toes only to remember that they stuck their foot in their poop during the diaper change.

*Parenting is realizing that more food is on the floor then in their bellies.

*Parenting is wishing that bedtime would come sooner.

*Parenting is spending hours planning a "super, fun, AMAZING" activity for your child only for them to say they don't want to do it.

*Parenting is choosing between washing your hair or shaving your legs because you will only have enough time to do one or the other.

I'm sure I'll think of many more but I feel it is a good start!  :)  

Why I'm Not Perky......

I used to be a super happy people person.  I loved going out and doing stuff.  I was a "busy body."  My children have taken that part of me and destroyed it.  Now this person might come back when the children are in school, but for time being that part of me is dead.  Oh but I'm supposed to enjoy this time....my kids are only this little once...blah blah blah blah.  I would say let's look at my entire day, but I probably won't have that much time before I get paged by Thing One and Thing Two.  So let's just look at an average night.  Let's start at dinner time!


5:30-6:30ish  -  Dinner.  Finally, broke down and made Peanut Butter and Jelly for my daughter because she run screaming at anything else mentioned.  I have also lost any battle with making her sit at the table.  She is watching a movie and will go to the table for bites.  Dexter is on his play mat in the living room making giggle noises.  Tristan is passed out on the back of the couch and Oscar is sleeping on the bed.  My child/pet ranking is as follows:


Favorite Child/Pet: 
Mr. Bubbles The Fish  :)
Oscar - for completely leaving me alone and being out of sight
Tristan - for leaving me alone
Dexter - for still being demanding even when you are on the floor being cute
Maddie - for being a brat at dinner


This quickly changes when I go in the bedroom to prep bottles/diapers for Dexter and find Oscar sleeping in the clean clothes basket that I have on the bed.  Seriously, a queen sized bed and you sleep IN the clothes basket.  Ranking has now changed to this.

Favorite Child/Pet:  
Mr. Bubbles The Fish  :)
Tristan - for leaving me alone
Dexter - for still being demanding even when you are on the floor being cute
Maddie - for being a brat at dinner
Oscar - Asshole


6:45-7:30ish - Oh joy it's bath time.  I get both kids nudie and we splash and have a good old time.  I take out Dexter first and put on his diaper and pajamas.  On the way back to the living room, I check on Mad who is sorting her toys by color.  I cuddle Dexter for a moment to get him warmed back up (a job that is usually designated to his father, but I'm on my own for the time being so everything I do takes twice as long).  Dexter falls asleep.  Yay!  I put him in the swing and begrudgingly tread back to the bathroom because it's "hair wash" night.  I'm not sure why my daughter has a problem.....it's not like she has a bunch of hair.  A process that should only take 5 minutes takes about 15.  After trying to be calm about it I finally just start dumping water over her head so we can finish up.  The ranking system is now as follows:


Favorite Child/Pet:  
Mr. Bubbles The Fish  :)
Dexter - because he is calmly sleeping in his swing
Tristan - he is still on the couch sleeping
Oscar - still angry at him for the clothes thing
Maddie - for being a brat at bath time.


7:30-9:00ish - Dexter is still sleeping so I go to Mad's room.  We cuddle/hug for a good 10 minutes because she is cold.  Then I get her in her pajamas and we read books.  She is super tired because she didn't get much of a nap so she readily agrees that it's time for bed.  She goes down without a fight!  I go out in the living room.  I look at the toys all over the living room.  I look at the dirty dishes in the sink.  I think FUCK IT!  This is the first time all day that both children are sleeping at the same time.  I play some Harry Potter Legos on Xbox!  The ranking system is now as follows:  


Favorite Child/Pet:  
Mr. Bubbles The Fish  :)
Maddie - because she is down for the night
Dexter - he's down for the moment but I know I'll have to feed him before bed
Tristan/Oscar - Both are thinking now that I have no children hanging off of me that it is now "their" time to hang all over me.  They are sadly mistaken.  Both get pushed off so I can have some time without anything/one touching me.


9:10-11:30ish:  I finish one level (it seriously only took 5 minutes) and look over to see Dexter STARING intently at me.  It seriously freaked me out.  I'm not sure when he woke up (sometime in the 10 minutes of my "Yay Me Time")  *sigh*   I try to pretend I didn't see, hoping he will go back to sleep.  No bananas.  Dexter becomes Mister Fussy Pants.  I feed him, check his diaper, play toys with him, read him a book, rock him etc.  He has no intention of going back to sleep.  So he has "Tummy Time" on top of me while we play Harry Potter Legos.  He FINALLY goes to sleep as I decide that I'm too tired to play anymore and it's too much of a challenge to do while he's wiggling.  Hmmph.  The ranking system is now as follows:  


Favorite Child/Pet:  
Mr. Bubbles The Fish  :)
Maddie - because she is passed out
Tristan/Oscar - both have scampered off, plotting their revenge
Dexter - Thanks for the no kid free down time buddy.


11:30-12:00ish - My head doesn't ever shut down properly anymore....even though I'm exhausted.  I go to bed and read a little bit.  The cats now know that this is THEIR time and I become a Renee Cat Sandwich.  Both are purring and snuggling.  Reading has a drug like effect.  I'm done.  I finally turn off the light and pass out.

Favorite Child/Pet:  
Mr. Bubbles The Fish  :)
Maddie/Tristan/Oscar/Dexter - everyone is on equal footing because they are asleep.


2:20AM - I wake up to the feeling of my flesh being scraped off my back.  My daughter has snuck into bed with me.  She is sleeping perpendicular to me and is digging her toenails into my back.  I just cut those suckers yesterday....and I cut them SHORT!  In the wee hours of the morning, I contemplate removing her toenails altogether.  


Favorite Child/Pet:  
Mr. Bubbles The Fish  :)
Dexter - because he is passed out
Tristan/Oscar - both have left, probably when Maddie snuck in
Maddie and her toenail claws of doom.


3:45AM - I wake up to a cat snarling and hissing and just making a horrible racket.  It's Oscar.  He's freaking out.  I quickly investigate and nothing is out of the ordinary.  His tail probably snuck up on him again.  


Favorite Child/Pet:  
Mr. Bubbles The Fish  :)
Dexter - because he is passed out in his bassinet
Maddie - because she is sleeping (not in her bed though)
Tristan - because he was probably egging Oscar on
Oscar - for being an idiot



6:15ish - Dexter wakes up freaking out.  I quickly feed him and he decides it's "play time"  Grrrr.  I finally get him back to sleep around 6:45ish.


Favorite Child/Pet:  
Mr. Bubbles The Fish  :)
Tristan/Oscar - because they aren't annoying me
Maddie - because she is sleeping (not in her bed though)
Dexter -  for waking me up, although I'm not too mad though.  He is pretty much sleeping through the night.  I am upset about the playing though.


6:45ish - Cats are jumping on my head.  Thanks for that.  I finally just give up and decide to zombie veg in front of the computer.  As I walk past the Master Bathroom and see cat shit on my carpet.  The day has already started out shitty.  Pun intended.

Favorite Child/Pet:  
Mr. Bubbles The Fish  :)
Dexter - because he is calmly sleeping in his bassinet
Maddie - because she is sleeping (not in her bed though)
Oscar - pissy at him for not letting me sleep.  He was trying to lick INSIDE my nose.
Tristan - for shitting on the floor.  Yep I totally know those lincoln logs are from him.


Perhaps I should have stuck with a fish.

My Cookie Baking Adventure

Hey all,

Sorry I haven't written a new post in a while.  My son has been a real bear lately.  He has been soooooo needy at night lately.  

Anyway, today I had a little adventure worthy of a blog post.  Most people don't know this about me, but I hate cooking.  I really despise baking.  I hate being in the kitchen period.  I don't think it's fun or exciting.  If I had to "rank" chores it would be right up there with cleaning the shitter.  Hell, I think cleaning the toilet ranks above cooking.  It takes me less time to do anyway.  I really only cook anything because well...my husband and children would die if I didn't.  Dieter can not cook.  Well, I take that back.  He can make cinnamon toast and a mean MRE.  Yep, I do all of the cooking here.  So you can imagine most of my recipes are very simple.  I have had people tell me to try recipes and I veto them because they have either too many ingredients or too many steps.  Don't feel too sorry for my husband.  The meals I do make are very tasty and I can make them very well.  I just don't branch out very often.  He likes it this way.  Usually things go badly if I experiment :)

With all that said, today I decided to bake cookies.  Yeah.  I know.  But the recipe was really simple and Maddie LOVES cookies.  The last time I made cookies was oh...a good 5 years ago.  I was making them for my coworkers.  That day I committed over 40 counts of bakeicide.  It was horrible.  The cookies were hockey pucks on the bottom and raw in the middle.  I would like to think that it was my oven (it was an old thing), but it probably has more to do with the fact that every time I'm in the kitchen it's like an episode of "My Drunk Kitchen" only without the alcohol.  Seriously, check her out!  She is hilarious!  This is one of my favorite episodes!

It started out well.  I put all the ingredients out on the counter.  Ha cookies!  You can't fool me!  I'm going to make sure I have ALL the ingredients before I start mixing you up!  Learned that lesson last time  :P  I even made sure I had all the measuring utensils and both of the beaters for my hand mixer!  I know right?!  Things are looking good!  

So I started mixing things!  Everything was great until I got to the flour.  Both of my children decided they needed me at once.  Maddie is freaking out because she wants a hug.  Dexter is screaming because he just woke up in his swing and realized I was not holding him.  *sigh*  I know most of you are thinking....why not let Maddie help?  Mommy/daughter bonding time in the kitchen?  Aww lovely thought isn't it?  Maddie has an attention span that a goldfish would make fun of.  That combined with my cooking ADD, well it's a recipe for disaster!  It's much safer if I just let her watch TV.

So I managed to save the world and stop Dexter from going nuclear.  Maddie got hugs and kisses.  Back to my cookies.  Sadly, I was in the middle of adding the flour to my cookies.  I have no idea how much I have put in.  Did I put in 2 or 3?  I need 4 1/2 altogether.  Hmmmm.....I think two.  So I add another cup, which finishes up my flour.  Never fear though!  I bought flour and have a brand new one on the counter.  I open it up, put my measuring cup in and ***SNAP***  My measuring cup handle breaks off.  Really?  

Sorry this picture was taken after I cooked dinner so just ignore my messy dinner dishes!

After the shock wore off (I mean sheesh who breaks a measuring cup while baking....only me :P), I finished measuring sans handle.  I finished mixing up the dough.  I was pretty proud of myself.  It looked right.  Maybe a little drier then normal (whoops may have added an extra cup of flour) but it looked like dough!!!

Next, I got out bowls for my sugar.  This particular recipe calls for rolling the dough into balls and dipping them in sugar and then flattening them with a glass.  I bought pretty pastel sugar for the occasion.  So I open the container and start shaking out the sugar....which took forever to get out of those 3 little holes!

Damn you little holes!

I finally give up.  The bottom of all four bowls are BARELY covered with sugar, but I have a hot oven and dough that is drying out.....LET'S BAKE!   After 2 cookies, I decided the "glass flattening" step is a pain in the ass so I just flatten them with my hand.  Yep.....I'm a cooking rebel!

I fill up the first cookie sheet and slap that bad boy in the oven.  I start filling up the second cookie sheet and the children suddenly need me again.  Both of them.  At the same time.  *sigh*  I tell them to wait (now both children are screaming) and I hurry and finish filling up the second cookie sheet.  Phew!  This is a race against time and I have 4 minutes until my timer goes off.  In record time, I calm Mad down, put on a new show, make a bottle for Dexter and prop it in his mouth (well son you shouldn't have woken up in the middle of my cookie baking :P).  

*DING DING DING*

I take the cookies out!  They look pretty good!  However, I have no where for them to cool.  Crap.  I knew I forgot something.  I kinda just push stuff off the counter unto the stools and lay some wax paper down.  Okay that's done!  The first two sheets of cookies used up all my sugar.  Crap.  I go to shake out some more and "OH SHIT!"  I broke my sugar container.  Wait a minute!  Ha ha!  It's supposed to do that!  I wish I had known this earlier :P  At this point, I'm feeling super smart that I figured it out!  Okay I did it on accident but shhhhhh let me have my moment.

Well isn't that convenient :)

I quickly ball up the rest of the cookies and get done right as my dinger is going off.  My first sheet of cookies has cooled.  Time to taste my creation!  They were pretty tasty.  A little dry and hard, but hey it was my first time doing it and I was distracted!  Maddie thought they were amazing and she had 4 of them.  My neighbors also thought they were pretty good!  

It wasn't until I was making dinner that I realized I totally left out a whole stick of butter.  The recipe called for a cup of butter and for some reason I equated it with a stick of butter.  Whoops!  Now I know for next time (yep...this was pretty painless....I'll do it again!).

They are pretty at least!

Maddie's Cookies AKA HLV Sugar Cookies

1 cup Oil
1 cup Butter (yeah that's 2 sticks...FYI)
1 cup White Sugar
1 cup Powdered Sugar
2 Eggs
2 Teaspoons Vanilla
4 1/2 cups Flour
1 Teaspoon Baking Soda
1 Teaspoon Cream of Tartar
1/2 Teaspoon Salt

Cream oil, butter and sugars.

Add eggs and vanilla.

Add dry ingredients.

Roll into balls.  Dip the ball in colored sugar and flatten with glass (or your hand if you are lazy like me).

Use a greased cookie sheet.

Bake at 350 degrees for 12-15 minutes.