A giveaway, slacker-mom style

I get quite a few emails from PR agencies through my blog.  Each I guess I'm rather thankful for, if only because it means that someone, somewhere, thinks that what I say here means something.

But not every pitch is exactly appropriate for me, and while I try to email a polite note back to those that are just a teensie bit off, I tend to ignore completely those that are SO FAR OFF from any product that I would ever use or need. (FYI folks - my kids are both potty trained. I do not wish to try your diapers. I live near Milwaukee, WI, so please don't offer to send me to see Elmo on Ice in Manhattan. And I'm sure your plastic cutlery is really very nice, but the amount of time it would take me to review the product and then write about it in such a way that I would not bore the hell out of my five readers just isn't worth the $3.89 worth of free product you'd be shipping me.)

HOWEVER...
Every so often I get a request that seems to be a good match. (See: Jewel concert. Also: Kodak Mother's Day cards.) Last fall I got a perfect match. AJ Wright was opening new stores all over the country, and they offered to send me to their new store in Racine for their grand opening event. I was treated to dinner, a shopping spree and a free digital video recorder on which to record photos or video of my shopping experience.

Of course I jumped on it. Who wouldn't? But honestly, this was just as we were selling our house. I figured I would write up my review after our move. Then we moved and I got sick. I got better and then there was a shake-up at work. One thing led to another and another and soon I had to dig to find the $50 gift card they gave me to give away on my blog.

ANYWAY...
Y'all know what AJ Wright is, right? Its like TJ Maxx (in fact, it is part of the TJX Companies) - it sells discounted name brand apparel and home decor items. Sometimes you have to dig to find what you need, but there's always something good if you can just be patient enough to find it.

And there are usually some really, um, interesting items you find while you're digging.

Case in point. Good find:

"Interesting" find:

Its a purse. That looks like a Bible.

I was lucky enough to find a really cute gray peacoat that I wore the HECK out of this past winter and some new underwear that I was waaay overdue for.

Its obvious that EVERY Mom could use a few more things for herself, so one lucky commenter will get the $50 gift card. Just tell me in the comments: what slacker mom things have you done this week? (Or slacker dad...slacker person, whatever.)

Make sure your email address is in your profile so that I can get the prize to you. You can look to see if AJ Wright has a location near you on their site here. I'll randomly select a winner this Friday at noon central time.

Oh, and Miss gets a free entry because she looks an awful lot like the PR girl who was at the event.

The PR Girl who looks an awful lot like Miss

Domestic Diva FAIL.

I've been a bit absent from the scene lately, but for good reason.

Our house is for sale!

I had hoped to compile a Wordless post today that contained nothing but a picture of the sign in our yard, but we don't yet have one. However...

The listing "went live" on Saturday.

We had two showings yesterday.

And another scheduled for today.

I am somewhat freaking out and somewhat praying that the interest continues and that the folks who've seen it already want to come back and see the upper unit.

And I am in need of about 12 straight hours of uninterrupted sleep. (Cleaning your house top to bottom including the basement is for the birds. Unfinished asements? SHOULD have cobwebs. You can quote me on that.) I have never before had all of my laundry done at one time (and still don't), but apparently, our closets and dressers only "work" based on my usual system of "there is always dirty laundry." Cuz with it all clean? There isn't room to put it all away! There aren't any dirty dishes to be found...I think my sink is lonely.

Don't worry! In the midst of all this over-achieving cleanitude, I have somehow still found a way to be a slacker.

While unloading the dishwasher the other night, I noticed something strange in the silverware bucket.

What in THE HELL is THAT?!?

Oh my hell, I WASHED A PIECE OF CHICKEN.

Yum.

Mommy guilt

I took a few days off from the 'puter.

With the exceptions of playing some games on Facebook (cuz, dude, I'm totally addicted to Algerian Patience and Mafia Wars) my lappy was off all weekend. And you know what?

It felt good.

Because you see...my weekend started off a little rough and I needed the down-time.

If I haven't said so already, let this stand as my preface for all other Mom-related comments: I love my Mother.

She just has absolutely no respect for my decisions as a parent or understand boundaries what-so-ever and I leave encounters with her feeling frustrated, angry and cheated out of time with my kids that I could have spent doing something else. ANYTHING else.

As in I'd rather shout, "C'mon kids! We're going to go walk around in a really super-expensive antique store for an hour without a stroller! And we're not going to nap! And I'm going to feed you nothing but sugar! WOO HOO!!!"

But I feel this horrible guilt if I don't answer the phone when she calls. I think of how much I would love to have had more time with either of my Grandmas and don't want to deny my kids time with theirs.

A Saturday morning trip to Target, though, changed my mind.

If Mommy ain't happy -- no one's happy.

And that Mommy? Is ME.

For two weeks now I've spent my Saturdays with her and spent the rest of the weekend trying to recover from them. I had kids behave in public the way my children never have because I have rules like "We Don't Play With Basketballs in Target" and Grandma says its OK.

I had kids have blood-curdling, screaming tantrums because they wanted the damned basketball and I have rules like "I'm Not Buying A Freakin' Basketball Because We Already Have Two at Home" and Grandma says, "Oh, its OK - Grandma will buy it" and then Mommy has to say "Like hell you will."

I had kids have 20-minute long tantrums because Grandma was getting dropped off at home after she promised them sunshine and ponies and pockets full of chocolate and Mommy couldn't take it any more.

I let my kids cry because we were going home for lunch and then nap time as previously scheduled because I wasn't about to fall AGAIN for the, "Oh, its OK...they can take naps later, right?" line. (Because if Grandma says it out loud then I'm the bad guy who won't let them, but screw it...Momma needs her boys' nap time as much as they need the nap.)

Its like I'm torturing myself - in some ways I see spending time with my Mom as an addictive behavior. (Shut up - I like Intervention alright?) I know its bad for me. I know I'm going to regret it later on -- but I do it anyway.

Sick.

SO. I love my mother but I'm not going to let her ruin another weekend for me.

Cuz there just aren't enough of them to waste.

There's just too many ways I could go with this title.

So...I ask my friends for one small favor...to come clean with their Mom snafus for the sake of a good laugh and to win a little prize. For the sake of, "Aww...I'm so glad its not just me!" For the sake of "HAHAHAHAHAHA!!! I love that you did that!!!" and what do I get?

Nothing. Nada. Zip. Bupkis.



Don't you know...?



Cuz

Cartman Whateva
Uploaded by stewie_g - Click for more funny videos.

So last week's winner was Kim H. She left her poor pooch in the garage overnight.

In the car.

Poor doggie. (Who'm I kidding? Poor Kim...I know its the fact that she & her hubby are living in two different cities and she's handling the kids by herself while she prepares to sell their home and move.) So YAY FOR KIM! She wins the Cold Stone Creamery Jelly Bellys, fresh from the Jelly Belly factory.

The rest of you guys? SUCK.

So screw you, I'm goin' home.

(Heh...my "Slacker Momisms" for this week are so great I completely copped out of telling you about any real ones and wrote this piece of "borrowed" crap instead. I mean, how many pictures of ones overflowing pile of laundry do you NEED in one week? I think you get my point.)

For the love of laundry

My husband and I have a unique relationship. We really are the other half that makes each other whole...sometimes.

For instance, he will wash and dry laundry all the day long but can't (or won't, I'm not sure that it matters) sit and fold it or put it away.

I have a secret confession: I actually like to fold laundry.

Yes, yes...sick. I know.

But think of it - I can sit on my fat duff and watch TV and feel good that I'm also getting work done.

I can tell the kids to go and play - "Mommy's busy!"

I can ask Hubby to get me things. "Hon, get me a soda, would you? I'm working on folding all this laundry!"

I can sit on the couch, a veritable island in the sea of chaos that is my life, and match socks while observing from a distance my kids reading a book together, or (let's be honest) fighting over a broken Happy Meal toy.

But there's something beautiful about that...getting the chance to watch them. Whether they're fighting or getting along, I get a chance to see my kids' real personalities. I can see that somehow, we've impressed upon the Nick the importance of being patient with his brother. We've instilled a love of reading in them both, to the point that there are always books left laying about with the toys. They've both got these imaginations that leave me laughing.

And the chance to have a moment to be happy for those small things AND have clean undies? Is priceless.

The Mommy Confessional: Just another day in paridise

This week was a bit crazy to say the least.

I should be enjoying my week of time off between jobs. But because Mommy has a paid week off, Daddy had three days off in a row and the weather was rather beautiful, all hell just HAD to break lose.

Case in point #1: Will woke up last Saturday with a horrid sounding cough. While I knew it wasn't swine-flu, it was still a pretty craptastic cold. We missed the breast cancer walk we do with my aunt every year and he was clingy for three days.

Proof #2: I picked up the kid's cold. Of course.

And #3: Hubs and I sat down Wednesday night to watch a movie. About 30 minutes in, I paused it and asked, in my best "pity me, love me I'm sick" voice if he'd get me a glass of soda. Just as he sighed "FINE" at me and started to get up, the power went out. Completely. And stayed out until 10 minutes after we'd given up and went to bed. We woke up Thursday morning to find it was out AGAIN and had been for three hours. The day after I had gone grocery shopping on a major "fill the pantry" trip.

The good news is our power came back on 30 minutes after we got up for the day and that our ice cream was none the worse for wear. (But try explaining to a four year old what electricity is and why he can't watch TV or play Wii. It just didn't sink in.)

So - given all that I decided to hell with feeling like death, its 75 and sunny and I'm takin' my kids to the freakin' ZOO before I go back to the daily grind. We're annual members, so we get in free as many times as we want to go. I packed lunches and snacks and after Nick's preschool let out at 12:30 the four of us headed out.

We ate lunch soon after we got there and quickly realized that skipping nap time to get in some family time quite possibly wasn't such a good idea. Especially when its hot and the kids are half hyped up on orange soda.

I feel its a personal victory that we lasted two hours.

But I only feel kinda bad that I stood by and took pictures while Will FREAKED OUT about having to be in the stroller and then plotted his escape.

His very ill-planned escape.

---

So - its sharing time. What did YOU do this week that was less than stellar? Yes, we'll probably laugh at your expense (while going "Awwww!") but that's the point - no Mommy's perfect. We could all use the laugh-therapy. (Read through the comments - trust me, its worth it!) And besides, I'll pick my favorite as this week's winner to get a box of Jelly Belly Ice Cream Parlor Mix jelly beans. Cold Stone Creamery Jelly Belly's. Mmmmmmmmmm......

---

Last week's winner was Kim.

I needed some "me" time, so I let the kids play in their rooms while I chilled out in my room. The door was open, but the baby gate was up to keep them out. 30 mins later it was too quiet. My 3 year old had drawn all over his 1 year old sister with markers. He had also drawn all over our laminate floors. Thank goodness he didn't get to the walls.

Hope this week's been better for you Kim! E-mail me your address and I'll get your book out to you right away.

Now hurry up and comment 'fore I eat these danged jelly beans!

The Mommy Confessional: "Let them eat cake!" Edition

When Nick was was younger (and by that I mean waaaaay back when he was two and three) he was a late sleeper. Not a morning person myself, it was awesome that he (and then Will) would snooze until 8 or 8:30.

Sinfully late by most people's kid standards.

But when Jay was working second shift, he'd get home around 12:30/1:00 in the morning, so by keeping them up just a wee bit later they'd sleep until 8ish so that he could get a decent amount of sleep.

I can't say whether their new shift to wake earlier has come as part of the slight chaos that hubby's new work schedule has caused to our routine, or just because Nick's getting older and needs less sleep, but its commonplace for him to wake around 7, sometimes earlier.

Only when he does, he wakes his brother, too, and more often than not, 7 am is too damn early for either of them to be awake.

This is painfully obvious around 11:30 when they're both ugly and crying and constantly at each other's throats.

And naptime is still HOURS away.

Now that Jay has weekend's where, at 7 am, he's long since started his shift at work, this also means Mommy gets no happy weekend sleep-in time.

POO.

So imagine my lovely surprise to hear Nick get up to use the bathroom this past Saturday (clock check: 6:50 am) and then hear him go back to his room. Followed by quiet.

No giggling, no rough-housing, no "MOOOM! HE'S TOUCHING MY EARS!!!"

Silence. Lovely, lovely silence.

So a snoozin' I did go.

Much later, I woke to those familiar giggling sounds, backed by the murmur of the TV tuned to Noggin. (Yes, my four year old knows that channel 10 is PBS and 301 is Noggin so they no longer sit in the mornings watching the news or some completely inappropriate show on whatever channel the TV happened to be tuned to last. Clock check: 8:10 am. Momma's happy.)

I stretch, yawn, and make my way to the living room.

Where I find my cherubic young lads eating an entire box of Girl Scout cookies.

Don't say they're not resourceful - Daddy left the box out on the kitchen counter where only a chair was needed to retrieve them. Why wake Mom for breakfast when you can gorge yourself on chocolate covered Thanks-a-lots?

To award them for their skillfulness and ability to care for themselves (cuz, dood, I know 20-year-olds who can't do that) I thanked them for that extra hour of sleep and just handed them each a cup of milk to go with their cookies.

Besides...I didn't have to cook breakfast.

---

SO - share with me again. What did YOU do this past week that was "Mom of the Year" worthy? Leave a comment with your snafu and this week you could win a (slightly used) copy of Good in Bed by Jennifer Weiner. Which you can read while you let your kids watch "just one more show".
And yes, we'll probably laugh at your gaff, but that's the point. None of us are perfect, but we're still good Mommies.

Damn good.

---

Last week's winner was Kelly:

I too left a bag of groceries sitting out over night. Only, my bag included the bologna for the kids lunches the next day. I sent my kids to bed at 6:30 one night because I had just had enough for the day. They asked me 3 times why they
had to go to bed during the daytime. Also, I let them dig a hole "to China" in
the driveway (my husband's gonna freak) so that I could get enough quiet time to
answer a few emails. June Cleaver, I am not!!

I love that Kelly's kids are so adventurous as to want to get to China. Kelly, email me so I can get you your prize!!!

This contest closes next Friday, May 8th.

Welcome to the Mommy Confessional

I got a lot of great comments and feedback on my post last Friday. So many that I thought it would be fun to do again -- with prizes.

Did you have a bad week? Maybe lose your patience more than you'd have liked? Serve cereal for dinner? Space on the cupcakes you were supposed to bring for class? Lose your keys?

I wanna hear about it.

Yes, we'll probably laugh at you, but that's the point. Hopefully you'll read a comment from another reader and feel justthismuch better about yourself, and laugh too. We all do it...

So...while reading my comments, one just sorta stood out. From Denise:

This week I let my kids wear their pajamas all day on Monday, I ate 1/2 of their
Easter candy on Tuesday, I bribed my daughter w/ a new movie to get her pictures
taken at school on Wednesday, I forgot to even give them breakfast on Thursday,
and today I listened to my son scream in his crib for 1/2 hour because, darn it,
he NEEDS to take a nap! (or is it that I needed him to take a nap? ... eh, same
thing)

So Denise, if it only makes you feel the teensiest bit better, I have a bottle of Basa Body's Coconut Lotion with your name on it. Its organic, not greasy and the coconut smell isn't overpowering - I hope it helps relieve the stress!

NOW...on to my snafu of the week. I still can't believe what a freakin' dolt I am.

After picking up my precious lappy the other day we stopped and ate dinner, then pulled up to the grocery store so I could run in and get a few things. We needed bread, coffee creamer, lunch meat and fruit. Without grabbing a cart, I filled my arms with items and grabbed a few things extra until I couldn't manage one thing more.

In my excitement to be united with my new boyfriend, we headed home...where I promptly set the bags of groceries on the counter and LEFT THEM THERE.

OVERNIGHT.

WITHOUT LOOKING AT THE BAGS A SECOND TIME.

The next morning I poured my coffee, went to the fridge for the creamer and did a double take. What the -- OH. NO.

I whirled around to see my groceries sitting right where I left them. Warm.

D'OH! (I guess I'm thankful that the damn dog didn't get into them!)

Got a "Mommy FAIL" of your own from this past week? Share it in a comment - this week I'll pick my fave to win a copy of Jill Sobule's latest album, California Years. You'll love the story - without a record label again, she solicited donations from fans in exchange for "prizes". (A $10 donation got a free digital download of the album after its release, a $10,000 donation got you the ability to lend your vocal talents to a track.) She raised $75,000 in about six week's time and made her album. Click to hear 'San Francisco'.

Confess away...and don't feel bad. We're not perfect, either.

(This giveaway is open until next Friday when I'll announce the winner and next week's prize!)

Perfect imperfections.

Several years ago, I was at a family gathering on a hot summer day. I had been sitting on a porch railing, laughing and talking with my Aunt. When I jumped down from my perch, I landed with a slight "OOF!" and noticing that my jean shorts were just a wee bit too short and a wee bit too snug around my middle, I pulled at them uncomfortably, trying to stretch them back into position.

"Did something shrink in the dryer?" she asked with a smile and a wink.

I smiled back. "No, just gained a few pounds, that's all."

"I was just trying to give you an --"

I cut her off. "I know, I know." I smiled and walked away.

I don't sugarcoat things. I tell it like it is.

I don't see any reason to apologize for things that nearly everybody does.

This includes admitting that I'm not a perfect parent.

I sometimes lose my patience when really maybe I should be noticing just how smart my kids are in their quest to ask eleventy-two questions about an ambulance (that passed 10 minutes ago), and that, yes, they're right -- its siren sounds JUST LIKE a car alarm. I just wish they didn't feel the need to provide just so many examples of that siren.

If they're wearing sweats and a t-shirt for the day, I sometimes happily suggest that they're already in "cozies" and maybe they just might want to sleep in those clothes, too.

Some Saturday mornings I hype the kids up about from-the-can cinnamon rolls while I make them and that's all I serve for breakfast. Its good for you cuz I baked it, dammit.

Other nights we have PB&J for dinner. And I don't apologize for it.

Oprah dedicated an entire show a week or so ago (the "Dooce" episode) to the embracing the real truths of motherhood. Moms from across the country admitted to all sorts of things, from peeing in a diaper while on a long road trip (I so would have blogged that) to the amount of time it took them to love their babies after they were born.

I know this it may not come so easily to everyone, but why are we so afraid to admit these things?

NO ONE is perfect.

NO ONE has all the answers.

Why can't we just laugh about our downfalls along the way?

Cuz you know what? When my kids are making irritating noises in the backseat, I know that I can "out-siren" them both. It makes them stop dead in their tracks and giggle.

I have just a wee bit less laundry some days -- it makes up for the days they insist on taking pair after pair of socks off their feet and stuffing them God knows where (probably so that they can be "found" later while playing Dirty Jobs), but, eh...whatever. The laundry will never be caught up anyhow.

I can tell by the way they fight over who gets to stand on the kitchen stool that making those sweet rolls with Momma is pretty much the highlight of their week. (Whoever doesn't get the stool gets to sit directly in front of the stove and watch them cook. I am a genius, no?)

And if you give them raisins (which you've somehow convinced them are really candy and that they only get if they're really really good) and milk with PB&J, then dude, you hit like all the food groups and you didn't have to cook a damn thing.

I sometimes sit and think about all the ways my parents screwed up as I was growing up -- some of them were pretty darn major ways, in fact -- and I still turned out to be a fully functioning member of society. I own a home, I have a job, I'm pretty darn near well balanced. (Most days.)

The minor gaffs from day to day will most likely go unnoticed.

There's no way you'll really know until they're fully grown, of course, but I'm sure your kids will notice your attitude along the way.

Some days you've just got to let them dress themselves.

Now - come clean. What did YOU do this week that may not have been perfect?

I promise to only laugh out of love.

Go over to Carrie's place for more wicked awesome photos with a story behind them!

The Ultimate Slacker Mom confession

C'mere.

Closer.

CLOSER.

I have to tell you something.

Promise you won't judge, OK?

I don't balance my checkbook.

Like, EVER.

Are you shocked?

This is how I used to keep track of my bills:

I am très chic, no?

Years ago I kept one of those teensie tiny little checkbook registers, adding and subtracting everything down to the penny. But you know how those things are...one little mistake and you end up with half a page of scribbly blue and black ink.

Some time after we got married, Hubs and I bought a computer and Quicken software came with it.

Somehow I just couldn't keep the thing synched with our bank account properly.

(I admit - I actually sent in for that free training CD from the Video Professor. That didn't help me, either.)

Once it was off by a hundred dollars or so I'd scrap the whole thing and cheat, putting in a fake entry to make it balance.

That quickly got irritating and I made up my own system.

Enter The Big Purple Notebook.

The Big Purple Notebook was simple. Because we don't get many paper bills and pay most things online, I would simply keep a page for each month listing our bills, when they were due and how much they were for. In that list (sorted by date) were also our pay dates with approximate amounts filled in as well.

The page or two following would be left for doing math and estimating what our remaining balance would be.

Our online bank account records were reviewed regularly to make sure no "weirdness" was going on, and to confirm that our payments went through. We're relatively conservative spenders, so this worked well for many years. We always kept a few hundred dollars of "cush" to cover any unexpected expenses or to pay for a larger item or repair if we wanted it or needed it.

Lately, though, I've wanted something more. My system (or complete lack thereof) didn't allow for a whole lot of budgeting. I browsed Web sites for hours looking for the perfect accounting materials.

I gave up. Products with good reviews looked like bus driver mileage logs with grey carboard covers and vague shots of graph paper inside.

I have an affinity for pretty office products, people.

So I bought this at the local Wally World:

Definitely a step up from the The Big Purple Notebook but its far from perfect. I'd love to find a great organizer and budgeting system that's easy to use and pretty, too. (You'll see I have a pretty new notebook and an expanding organizer that matches for miscellaneous paperwork.)

What do you use for bill organization and budgeting?

Its Monday. Again.

I did not over-run my kids on Saturday.

We did not drag them to a birthday party and miss nap time, then laugh as Will's poor head bobbed while eating dinner. (That dinner was not at a fast food restaurant.)

I did not forget my camera this morning to share with you the pictures of said child slumped over, sleeping while folded in half in his car seat. (Actually, I'm pretty bummed I can't share that with you. It was pretty cute!)

We did not then take them downtown to the Buck's game so that we could indulge our two-year-old in his favorite sport, basketball.

We did not stay through the entire game, leaving the arena around 10 p.m. That would crazy, what with no naps!

We did not put our kids to bed around 11 p.m., then skip church to let them sleep in.

We did not also skip the evening Mass because said children's heads were beginning to bob toward their dinner plates at 6:30 p.m.

But we did create memories for our kids that they won't soon forget!

(Pictures are forthcoming, I promise! And both kids sat enraptured through the entire game. The only downside to the event was that we got there early to buy a few souvenirs and Will pitched a fit that we wouldn't buy him another basketball. The foam finger just didn't cut it for him, apparently.)

For more Mommy 'not me' confessions, check out My Charming Kids.
(SIDE NOTE: It looks like "MckMama" isn't posting a Not Me post today - her youngest is in the hospital. Pretty scary. Stop by and offer her your comfort!)

Ready for a weekend (a.k.a. We had a lot of fun with an orange hat.)

I can't even come up with a clever post name, that's how ready I am for this weekend.

Jay's been working crazy hours to the point that I've barely seen him and this cold is kicking my BUTT. I had lots of thoughts about what I'd write today, but know what? Instead I'm just going to share with you some cute pictures of my kids.

Cuz some days I'm a Mommy blogger, that's why.

Play that funky music, white boy.
He looks a little "Dinero-ish", doesn't he?


CHEESE!!!


He was fixated with posing on one leg.
He's four. It doesn't have to make sense.


No, I'm not tired Mom. Why do you ask?

C'mon back tomorrow for my "win of the week". I had a lot of people thank me for last week's "how to create a navigation bar" for Blogger (which I didn't get posted till Wednesday - whatev). This week I'll talk a little bit about social networking.

Got a question you'd like me to answer for my "win of the week" segments? E-mail me or leave it in the comments!

Welcome, terrible twos. Now GO AWAY.

Back when I was a new Mom (oh, ya know, way back four years ago) Hubs and I made a rule - once we started a new phase, no matter how hard it became for us there was no going back.

When we began potty training Nick around 18/19 months old, we never went back to NOT potty training. Once we put him in pull-ups and then training underpants, we never went back to diapers. Once we put him in a "big boy" bed, he never went back to a crib, irregardless of how many times we had to put him back in bed.

But everything's different with baby #2.

They tell ya that, but you just don't believe it till you see it for yourself.

Don't get me wrong - I've captured enough cute moments of boys hugging or sharing their cereal to prove its all worth it.

But what I mean is that the second kid is NEVER like the first. No matter what you're dealt with your firstborn, the second is a whole new ballgame.

February 2007: Enter Will.

He's not a cryer - he's a good sleeper and a better eater. Wow. They were all wrong! Yay me!

He grows quickly, getting chubby and giving away more dimpled smiles than some kids do in a year. His little Buddha belly is so sweet, his chunky thighs so squeezable (and ticklish!), the toes on his square little feet so nomable. But as he nears the sitting up and crawling stages, something becomes abundantly clear.

Will is the perfect name for my child.

If something was his idea? Grand! At eight months old, he'd pull himself to standing and hover there forever.

In front of the doctor at a wellness visit? Notsomuch.

I swear I saw the gleam in his eye while the doc shot questioning glances in my direction.

He could walk at 12 months, but just wouldn't do a whole lot of it, no matter how much pleading and promises you'd make. Finally, at 15, he set off to take on the world.

At 16 months, he would pat the offending side of his diaper (after the fact), say "poo poo" and point toward the bathroom. He'd willingly sit on the potty as often as you'd put him there, grinning like the king of the world.

At 21 months? Notsomuch. If you're within an hour of either side of his nap (either too tired or not yet awake enough) he'll either go limp or stiff as a board, refusing bend at the waist and sit on the toilet.

Two weeks ago we took the side off his crib, lowering the mattress and putting up the toddler bed rails. He LOVED it. Would climb up in it and read books (to Bald Baby, of course) or play. He felt like a Big Boy. I had to take toys out of it before tucking him in bed at night.

The trouble? The boys share a room. Once the lights were off and the door closed it was as if I declared a free-for-all.

No sooner would my arse brush the couch cushion than I'd hear "teeheeeheeeheeehee!" followed by the pitter patter of pajama-ed feet across the carpet.

Sighing, I'd head back to the boys' room (12' away) and put the offender back in bed.

Repeat. 52 times.

If I took Nick out of the room? Will'd stay in his bed, chattering to himself for a few minutes before drifting off to sleep.

Put Nick back? World Wide Giggle-Wrestle Federation.

For a week and a half I gave them three chances, then Nick went in Mommy & Daddy's bed. This solved the problem and both would be sleeping in no time.

But that gets old, too. Carrying a sleeping (heavy!) kid to bed at 11 p.m. when I might possibly jostle him awake can only be done so many times before you're willing to bite the bullet and try another tactic.

So last night, I put the boys in bed and sat down on the floor between them with the lights off. They quickly realized they weren't going to get away with their middle-of-the-night match-ups, but also that they could jiggle and jump around in their beds long enough to outlast their Momma's patience.

Forty minutes later, my butt was sore from sitting on the floor, my knees were stiff and both boys were still awake. (I heard "MOMMY! Are you still there?!?" fifteen times before I threatened to cancel Nick's birthday party and made him cry, kicking us back to square one.) Thanks for nothin', Super Nanny.

So that's it. I'm callin' Uncle. Today, Daddy put the crib rail back on William's bed.

He's just a stronger Will than I!

He once ate everything. Now, notsomuch.

Who taught this child to POUT?!?

"I am NOT wearing MITTENS!!!"

We had this new humidifier for two days before Will decided it needed to be decorated.

No one puts Baby in a corner.

Well, this Momma does.

My love affair

Dear Important People at TLC:

You got me.

I'm hooked, and so are my kids.

Your shows about really big families? Love 'em. I watch them like I'm cramming for a final. If those people can stay (somewhat) sane while dealing with eight, ten or SEVENTEEN kids, well hot damn I can deal with two!

I can't tell you how many times I've stopped an oncoming temper tantrum with, "Can the kids on Jon & Kate + Eight do that?" ("No, mama.") Somehow that resets the scales and shows him I'm not just being mean.

And in September, when the boys were in that commercial? Nick reached a point when he didn't want the cameras in his face anymore. All I had to say was, "Hey - you're just like those kids on Jon & Kate!!! They have cameras around all the time..." The big smiles re-emerged and he was ready to ham it up some more.

We love Little People Big World (though if you ask Nick, its Little Big World). I wish we had a big-ass pumpkin farm on which to raise our family. That Matt Roloff is one crazy dude with all his projects. But at least they get completed. *cough cough*

I want Mike Holmes to come and finish aforementioned projects and make sure there's no black mold growing in my bathroom. Then I want to find the cool-ass neighbors I never knew I had and have them come decorate my house. Cuz it needs it, y'all.

I want to take home the chef so my kids won't have to eat plain pork chops and scalloped potatoes from a box mix. (And that's what I make on a good day.)

I could go on and on about my Stacy and Clinton fantasies but I'll stop there.

I just thought I'd write this, Important People at TLC, to let you know...

...you had me at The New Detectives.

Seriously, Important People at TLC, if you read this, I might just let you adveritse on my blog if you ask nicely. Or pay me to write up reviews on your shows. Cuz my love for you runs that deeply. Just ask my hubby.

Photo Hunt - Lazy

I wasn't going to do a Photo Hunt post today, but I realized I could be lazy and share the photos Nick took earlier this week. Give a three year old a camera and you'll see the things that are most important to them. Up close. Reeeely close.

Zekers!

My brother

My toys

My bed

That's me!

There goes Zeke!

Those are some toys in a tote.

Cool - look at Zeke's eyes.

That's the floor.

Our TV

The remote

Mama

For more Photo Hunters, visit tnchick.com.

Project Support Beauty in Nature: August 08

I have grand illusions about domesticity. In my head, I picture myself baking banana bread on my days off and getting the laundry folded and put away before the boys are sleeping and I have to quietly sneak around toys that are left on the floor.

In reality, that doesn't happen. Ever.

This summer, when posed with Lotus's PSBN challenge, I imagined the compost piles I would somehow find room for in my small yard. I imagined myself actually using the cloth grocery bags that are now, well, if I knew where they were I might actually use them.

But none of those things have happened. YET.

What I did do, however, was start a little garden. I figured it was a good way to A) teach the boys about caring for living things and B) grow some produce that was organic and yummy.

But if you know me AT ALL, you will know that I can kill the easiest to care for plant. I think its a case of over love.

We started off doing well enough. I had the boys water the plants regularly - we had two tomato plants, an acorn squash, a pumpkin and some strawberries. They would scoop water out of their little swimming pool and walk it back and forth to the plants. They loved it (and hey, we were reusing that water that would otherwise just get dumped out onto the grass).

But somehow life intervened. We went on vacations and went to a lot of festivals. In all honesty, I have no idea where this summer went.

Hubs and I went away for the weekend this past weekend without the kids for the first.time.ever. Walking into the house last night, I looked over a realized - some of those plants don't look so healthy. In fact, with the exception of the tomatoes (which we subsequently realized that Will is allergic to, dang it) there are no fruit/veggies growing at all. NONE. God, that's sad. I can't even grow a squash!

So - what's a girl to do? Well, obviously I'm don't have a green thumb (or any other appendage, apparently), so I won't go on feelin' bad about it. Instead, I'll focus on what I can change.

A few PSBN posts back, I talked about switching to more environmentally friendly disposable diapers. And they're great, but the closest store where I could find them was like 20 miles away, in an area of town I rarely get to. I figured that it was stoopid to drive that far to be more friendly to the environment (cuz of, uh, like emissions and stuff) and instead thought that with all this time I have at home now cuz of my four day work week I might be able to manage cloth diapers and not go insane. (Do you see those illusions resurfacing?)

In an attempt to keep my illusions in check, I purchased two Bum Genius one-size-fits-all cloth diapers. They came in the mail Saturday, so we'll give 'em a whirl and see how they work. If nothin' else, they'll be really cute on my baby's chubby hiney. I'll let you know how it goes!

Why I blog

A new bloggie friend of mine, Rachel, recently wrote about why she blogs.

Now, normally, if people ask me, I say I blog because I need an outlet for the frustrations of every day working mommyhood. And that's not a lie. Sometimes there are days like this that only you other mommies would truly understand.

But if that were truly the only reason, then why would I feel so ecstatic when I get 40 comments on a picture of my son? Why am I so hooked on social networking? Why do I feel near-panic if I'm offline for more than a day at a time?

Another new bloggie friend, the Nap Warden, recently wrote about a crappy comment she received, in which the writer felt "blogging=narcissism." Thankfully, I've yet to receive my first "hate comment" but what I'm going after by mentioning this post is that I guess, to a certain extent, we all need some validation now and again, right? We need that little "yes, you are important enough that other people will read about your life." We all need that little, "yes, your kids are cute and funny and smart." We all need a little, "gawd, I've been there, too!" And there's nothing to be ashamed of in that.

And for me? I guess I need the luhve I get from bloggy land because I'm lonely! Here I am, a thirty-year-old working professional. I work in a big tall building downtown and have my own fancy office. I own a home and am financially very stable. I have a wonderful husband and I've always been blessed with a lot of real life friends. But in reality, there are very few of them that have kids the same ages as mine. And those that do? Well, all this working and mommy-ing and geez...being spouses to our husbands sorta gets in the way of all those girl nights we envision. In those months between one girl-date and another, I need a touch of that happiness that can only come from girlfriends. The giggling, the jokes about inappropriate things, the giving of small gifts called comments to let one another know we are appreciated.

When we became parents nearly four years ago, the Hubster and I made the conscious decision that we would both stay home with our kids, which for those of you who don't know, means we work opposite shifts. We each get a lot of one-on-one time with our kiddos, which is great, but we don't get a lot of time with each other. There are a lot of "passing in the night parking lot" kisses and, uh, that's about it.

Not only is it hard to constantly be without your spouse (giving major props to Army/Navy/Marine wives right now) but its also hard to have to do everything by yourself with two little kids. Don't get me wrong here, I subscribe to the "if you make your expectations known to children, they'll learn how to behave" school of thought, as in, if you take them to church or out to eat regularly, they will be more accustomed as to how they should behave in those places. And my kids are very good. But its still tiring to lug two small kids in and out of stores (and thus, in and out of car seats in between each trip). At the end of the day, arranging a play date with a friend and their kids just seems even more tiring!

So what do I do? I read other blogs and comment. I put my feet up and plurk, or twitter, or check out the scene on Cre8buzz. Its like chatting with friends while your kids play, but without worrying that someone's eating play dough or trying to climb the curtains. And without having to clean the house first.

I might not blog for the deepest of reasons but there my reasons none-the-less. There are plenty of days when I still just need to get a little mommy stress off my chest and others when I just want to share cute pics of my kids with the world.

Why do *you* blog?

Laundry? What laundry?

Instead of unpacking yesterday, I sat in a chair, attempting to read (yeah right) and watched my little ones splash away, giggling their little heads off. That laundry can wait!

Confessions of a Slacker Mom

Because I work for this high-falutin' fancy-shmancy law firm, I have access to events I otherwise would not get to attend. One of them I had the honor of attending last fall was a luncheon for working Moms.

To be fair, I was only invited because my office is next to the office of the woman who purchased the table for the event and someone else cancelled. She originally had sent out a survey to working Moms in the firm to get their feedback on whether or not the firm did everything it could to be "family friendly" and a number of those respondents were chosen at random to attend the luncheon. I would have responded to that survey, but I was on maternity leave! Anyway, long story short our firm was recognized as being one of the top family-friendly companies in the Milwaukee area and was going to be given an award at this luncheon...and I got to go.

The keynote speaker was Ann Dunnewold, author of Even June Cleaver Would Forget the Juice Box. Her message was simple: striving for perfection while working and raising children will drive you crazy. Aim for a B+.

I sat at that table and thought, "Doesn't everyone do that?!?"

I guess I decided when I went back to work after my first son was born that if I had to go back to work then other things were going to suffer. It works for us...there may be dishes in the sink, but the first hour after I get home every day is reserved for playing with my boys. Nothing more.

Fast forward to this week. It was one of those "off" weeks where instead of "doing the usual" every day, I had three days in a row of out-of-the-ordinary. Tuesday night I had yoga. Wednesday I went out to dinner with some of my work friends. Thursday I had a class so I worked late and we did a semi-fast-food dinner out.

On the way home on Tuesday night, I love rock 'n roll by Joan Jett & the Blackhearts came on the radio. I've mentioned before this is a favorite we sing quite often. But at three, Nick gets a lot of the words wrong and instead of "Put another dime in the juke box, baby" he sings something about babies having diamonds. I decided that along with pronouncing the "s" in front of words like "spoon" that he was old enough to be corrected and taught the correct lyrics.

"Honey, it's put another dime," I said.

"Put anudder dime..." he repeated.

"In the juke box, baby."

"In the ju-box, baby." The next verse was back to diamonds and babies.

Oh well.

Later that same night I was getting PJs on him and his brother when he pointed up to the smoke detector.

"MOM!" he said excitedly, causing me to leave his brothers' shirt over his face.

"What?"

"See that thing up there?" he asked, his brother yanking the shirt back over his head.

"Yeah, I see."

"It beeps if there's a fire. Then you get down on the ground like this," he said, quickly dropping down to his belly with more force and urgency than needed for a brief demonstration. "Then you yell, 'Mama! Daddy! There's a fire! I see smoke!'"

"Oh..." I was speechless.

"Then, you don't hide. You go to the door and you go outside. If there's no fire there. And then you go by the big tree and Daddy will find me."

My jaw was positively hanging.

"See?" He said happily, crawling to the door and pretending to open it and run outside.

"Who taught you that?"

"Daddy did."

"Oh."

I had no idea that my three year old was ready for things like fire safety. But dear old hubby did.

And boy did he have me feeling like a slacker!