A blog about the wild and wonderful adventures of one crazy lil' gal from West Virginia!
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
4000 Pageviews Guest Blogging Opportunity
Here at The Wild and Wonderful World of Gingerssnaps, we are getting close to 4000 page views! This may not be a big deal to some, but it is a pretty big deal to me! So to celebrate I am going to have my first ever, featured guest blogger! If you are interested in my guest blogging spot, please me leave a comment, or email me @ gingerssnaps32@gmail.com, that you are interested! If we have a huge interest, I may have guest bloggers on a regular basis! I am so excited! Thanks to everyone who follows my adventures on a regular basis, and welcome to those just hopped aboard for this wild and wonderful ride! Here's a few photos of me and ma girlies!
Lil Punkin Doo and yours truly
Sissy the Eldest and lil old me!
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
The Redneck Sunbather
I woke up earlier than usual this morning. I had to go to the bathroom. I tiptoe down the hall, so as not to wake any of my sleeping family. I do this in the hopes of going to the potty in peace. Peace being no one sitting on my lap wanting to snuggle, or chatting me up while perched on the edge of the bathtub. On my approach to the bathroom, I see something on the linoleum floor up ahead, in the bathroom. At first I think it is a piece of lint from the dryer. The dryer is beside the bathroom door, and I use the bathroom trashcan as the lint discarding receptacle. So I figured it was a stray piece of lint from last nights laundry. Upon further inspection, being the bug Nazi that I am, I discover it is a creepy crawly on its back. Shiver
Yes this little critter was just hanging out, in my bathroom, doing what equates to bug sunbathing. The bathroom light is the only one that is left on at night. I am assuming that is why it was drawn to the bathroom. Now I am unsure as to the species of creepy leggy thing that is soaking up my fake bathroom "sun" at this point.
For those of you oldies but goodies, you are well aware of my spider phobia. For those of you just tuning in, I HATE siders. Big, little, teeny, ginormous, hairy, fangy, colorful, sneaky, surprise attack ones, I HATE them all equally. I will scream like a little girl and run as fast as I can to escape their clutches. SO anyway, I hate all bugs. Not as much as spiders, but I hate bugs. I am an indoor type of girl. The kind that prefers resorts to camping, and chlorinated pools to rivers and lakes. Ok got the picture? Okay good, lets continue.
Okay where were we? Oh yes, the unwelcome sunbather. So my adrenaline kicks in, and my heart starts beating fast as I grab a piece of art cardboard left over from crafting with the 4yo, to squish it with. As I make my approach, I am aware of my body telling me this must be quick, because there are other urgent things I must attend to. Right. So I slam the paper down on the bug, and rub it around, to make sure it is squished. Ugh, gross, yuck, but I did it! Go me!I was not prepared for what happened next.
As I lifted the pink polka dotted cardboard, proudly prepared for squished bugginess, apparently I got a redneck bug. The kind that says "Aw HELL no!" It had grabbed onto the paper with its hairy little legs, and was prepared for takeoff when I lifted the paper. It went all kamikaze and did a back one and a half flip in the air, landed on its feet, and took the heck off across the floor. I was on its little bum quickly though, it didn't have a chance. I clobbered it before it got out the door! This time I squished and squished and squished. I finally heard a crunch and felt its body pop apart under the pressure of the giant hand that the was delivering the hairy little critters untimely demise. I was still crouched to strike again, if by some miracle of buggy fate, the little monster was still hanging on and planning another get away. It was not to be so. Its body parts were all separated on top of the pink polka dots. Point for silent Mommy. Bad part is that I think it was a cockroach.
My husband said it was a water bug, which upon looking it up, is a form of cock-a-roach. Blek! Gross. Nice try Hubbie the Dearest! Did I really need to deal with this nastiness in the wee hours of the morn? I check around the floor to make sure there are no more intruders, and find none. So I triumphantly sit down to finish what I started, and start itching all over. I am now scratching, and checking in my pajama pants, around my feet, on the toilet paper roll and holder, and even on the ceiling for signs of movement or more bugs. Thank goodness there are none. I finish up, wash my hands, and head back to bed, watching the floor as I go. So I hop back in bed. As I lay down, I am itching like crazy. I am officially buggied. My husband asks what is wrong, and I tell him, which prompted the water bug response.
So as I lay there itching, and wide awake way too early, I wanted to take a moment to thank my little unwelcome redneck sunbather for my case of the buggies. I am itching, bug-weirded out, and oh I don't know, ITCHING! Thanks a lot! Hope you enjoyed the chase! And what was with sunbathing playing dead in my bathroom, because apparently there was not a thing wrong with you, you little redneck cockroach!
Yes this little critter was just hanging out, in my bathroom, doing what equates to bug sunbathing. The bathroom light is the only one that is left on at night. I am assuming that is why it was drawn to the bathroom. Now I am unsure as to the species of creepy leggy thing that is soaking up my fake bathroom "sun" at this point.
For those of you oldies but goodies, you are well aware of my spider phobia. For those of you just tuning in, I HATE siders. Big, little, teeny, ginormous, hairy, fangy, colorful, sneaky, surprise attack ones, I HATE them all equally. I will scream like a little girl and run as fast as I can to escape their clutches. SO anyway, I hate all bugs. Not as much as spiders, but I hate bugs. I am an indoor type of girl. The kind that prefers resorts to camping, and chlorinated pools to rivers and lakes. Ok got the picture? Okay good, lets continue.
Okay where were we? Oh yes, the unwelcome sunbather. So my adrenaline kicks in, and my heart starts beating fast as I grab a piece of art cardboard left over from crafting with the 4yo, to squish it with. As I make my approach, I am aware of my body telling me this must be quick, because there are other urgent things I must attend to. Right. So I slam the paper down on the bug, and rub it around, to make sure it is squished. Ugh, gross, yuck, but I did it! Go me!I was not prepared for what happened next.
As I lifted the pink polka dotted cardboard, proudly prepared for squished bugginess, apparently I got a redneck bug. The kind that says "Aw HELL no!" It had grabbed onto the paper with its hairy little legs, and was prepared for takeoff when I lifted the paper. It went all kamikaze and did a back one and a half flip in the air, landed on its feet, and took the heck off across the floor. I was on its little bum quickly though, it didn't have a chance. I clobbered it before it got out the door! This time I squished and squished and squished. I finally heard a crunch and felt its body pop apart under the pressure of the giant hand that the was delivering the hairy little critters untimely demise. I was still crouched to strike again, if by some miracle of buggy fate, the little monster was still hanging on and planning another get away. It was not to be so. Its body parts were all separated on top of the pink polka dots. Point for silent Mommy. Bad part is that I think it was a cockroach.
My husband said it was a water bug, which upon looking it up, is a form of cock-a-roach. Blek! Gross. Nice try Hubbie the Dearest! Did I really need to deal with this nastiness in the wee hours of the morn? I check around the floor to make sure there are no more intruders, and find none. So I triumphantly sit down to finish what I started, and start itching all over. I am now scratching, and checking in my pajama pants, around my feet, on the toilet paper roll and holder, and even on the ceiling for signs of movement or more bugs. Thank goodness there are none. I finish up, wash my hands, and head back to bed, watching the floor as I go. So I hop back in bed. As I lay down, I am itching like crazy. I am officially buggied. My husband asks what is wrong, and I tell him, which prompted the water bug response.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Tattler Thursday #9
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
The Binki Break-Down
I was sitting at the table, at my computer, when in comes the 4yo. She is crying. I asked her what was wrong. She looks up at me, with big crocodile tears in those gorgeous, big blue eyes and kind of explodes into, "I miss my binki!" Followed by a tearful outburst, outreached arms and thumb sucking. I gather her into my lap, and rub her back as I snuggle her into me as tight as she would go. Only mommy can make this better. We are a big tangle of arms and legs and hair, rocking back and forth. I asked her what brought this on. She simply replied, "I just miss my binki, it was a good binki! I just miss it sometimes!" Okay.
Cue the Mommy guilt. She gave up her binki approximately eight months ago, a couple of months before she turned four. It was time. She has only had a couple of binki breakdowns since then, where she misses her best friend. Why as mothers, do we feel guilty over things that are inevitable? Why does everyone else presume to tell us when and where and how to make our children give up things? First the bottles, then the binkis, then they wipe their own hooches and dinky doos(can't say that I mind that one), then they start school. In my opinion our kids do not get to stay kids very long! Why, oh why must they grow up? Time for Mommy to cry. I will mourn her being a baby, and my little girl. On the first day of kindergarten, anyone in my way had better watch out. I will be the one walking blindly, in a haze of tears ,sobbing , back to my car. While she has a ball I am sure. I am tearing up just thinking about it. I cannot believe I am being a cry baby five and a half months before it happens. Hoooo Hooo, in and out, just breathe. AND don't think about it anymore!
As mommies we worry about every single little thing. Will this affect her when she grows up in her future relationships? Will she have separation anxiety when she starts school?(unfortunately I think this will be a resounding no) Will she be clingy as an adult because we took her binki away? Did we wait too long or did we take it too soon? Will she have an oral fixation because she had her binki to suck on until she was almost four? Will it cause her to smoke? Aaaahhhhh.
As a mom, I usually don't worry too much, I am a very relaxed, laid back mommy. This kindergarten thing has got me rattled. Sign up's are next month, and here I go again, tearing up just thinking about walking her up to the sign up table. It signals the end of my baby's true childhood, or being home with me hood, I suppose. It sucks. The BIG one. How am I going to get through sign up's without bawling? I apparently need a Xanax. I have had the privilege of staying home with my daughter the past two years. We are very close. I am very lucky, and forever grateful to Hubbie the Dearest for allowing me such a gift. Some days it drives me batty, and all I want is an adult for grown up conversation. Today apparently, I need pharmaceutical help to even think about signing my 4yo up for school, let alone starting on the first day.
I worked the first two years of my daughters life. The going back to work three months after she was born was killer. I cried for two weeks. I went back on Halloween. It blew big time. I cried every morning after I dropped her off with family, to head to work. I hated the fact, like every working mother does, that I was missing her every day to day little milestones. It killed me. So finally I took my husband up on his offer to stay home. So just like that, I quit Corporate America, and became a SAHM. It is the toughest job I have ever had, and the most rewarding! I can't believe it has flown by and is almost over! Next will be school, then middle school, then high school, then driving, then prom, then graduation, then she will be going to college. AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH! I am not ready for her to grow up yet! I am not ready for her to leave me! Wait a second...how in the hell did I just go off on that tangent from a binki breakdown? Oh well, welcome to my world! Off I go to play mermaids with my baby during her bath, and cherish every moment!
Cue the Mommy guilt. She gave up her binki approximately eight months ago, a couple of months before she turned four. It was time. She has only had a couple of binki breakdowns since then, where she misses her best friend. Why as mothers, do we feel guilty over things that are inevitable? Why does everyone else presume to tell us when and where and how to make our children give up things? First the bottles, then the binkis, then they wipe their own hooches and dinky doos(can't say that I mind that one), then they start school. In my opinion our kids do not get to stay kids very long! Why, oh why must they grow up? Time for Mommy to cry. I will mourn her being a baby, and my little girl. On the first day of kindergarten, anyone in my way had better watch out. I will be the one walking blindly, in a haze of tears ,sobbing , back to my car. While she has a ball I am sure. I am tearing up just thinking about it. I cannot believe I am being a cry baby five and a half months before it happens. Hoooo Hooo, in and out, just breathe. AND don't think about it anymore!
As mommies we worry about every single little thing. Will this affect her when she grows up in her future relationships? Will she have separation anxiety when she starts school?(unfortunately I think this will be a resounding no) Will she be clingy as an adult because we took her binki away? Did we wait too long or did we take it too soon? Will she have an oral fixation because she had her binki to suck on until she was almost four? Will it cause her to smoke? Aaaahhhhh.
As a mom, I usually don't worry too much, I am a very relaxed, laid back mommy. This kindergarten thing has got me rattled. Sign up's are next month, and here I go again, tearing up just thinking about walking her up to the sign up table. It signals the end of my baby's true childhood, or being home with me hood, I suppose. It sucks. The BIG one. How am I going to get through sign up's without bawling? I apparently need a Xanax. I have had the privilege of staying home with my daughter the past two years. We are very close. I am very lucky, and forever grateful to Hubbie the Dearest for allowing me such a gift. Some days it drives me batty, and all I want is an adult for grown up conversation. Today apparently, I need pharmaceutical help to even think about signing my 4yo up for school, let alone starting on the first day.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Valentines Day Tattler Thursday #8
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
How to Valentine's Cupcakes, The 3 Unexpecteds , and The Flood
We are all getting ready for Valentine's Day, no? Well todays post was going to be about how to make Valentines Day CupCakes as a mommy and me activity, and what the real results look like. Not the pretty little how to guides where all the steps, and all the freaking cupcakes look perfect. A real step by step, the good, the bad and the overflowing chocolate out the side ugly. So we will go through the how to, but we are also going to hit on how a mommy has to be able roll with it. We had unexpected, pop in guests this afternoon, an unexpected boo hoo mommy moment, and an unexpected flood in the bathroom. I know, unexpected, unexpected, unexpected! But all in good time dear readers, all in good time! First things first!
How to Valentines Day Extra Yummo Cupcakes
First we got out all the utensils, and mixed the ingredients together, as per following the directions on the box. We preheated the oven, and I gave the Valentines Day cupcake cups to the 4yo to count out. She counted out 12 and followed my directions to put them in the cupcake pan. I then let her stir the cake mixture for awhile(she is mommys little helper and loves to stir!)
How to Valentines Day Extra Yummo Cupcakes
I then spoon the batter into the 12 cupcake liners in the pan. We then decide to add Hershey's chocolate syrup to each one, for an extra sweet zing. So here is out pre-in-the-oven shot.
Yummy! So then I put them in the oven to bake. I again follow the directions on the box. Here is the post baking shot. Note the one cupcake where the Hershey's syrup decided to have a fartsplosion out the side of the corner cupcake. Well that one just had to be a casualty! It was yummy, even though we had to put it out of it's misery!
Now something I learned while experimenting with the Hershey's syrup, was that it is important not to let your 4yo squeeze too much into each cup, or it makes the bottom of each cupcake really ooey gooey, and stick or melt rather onto the cupcake liner! But scrape it off with a fork, and that makes it all better! Plus the name of the game is fun with the 4yo, making cupcakes for her to decorate and give to everybody she loves for Valentines Day! So she counts out 12 more liners for mommy to place in the pan, since it is hot.
So now it is time for mommy to put the batter into the pan for the second round of cupcakes. Yes it gets messy. I have never ever filled a cupcake pan without a dribble here or a splat there.
So now very carefully, I have my little punkin doo reach over the hot stove and pan, and squirt her chocolate syrup in each cup. Se got the biggest kick out of doing this!
Next it was time to wait on the cupcakes to cool down. While we were waiting, I was treated to several homemade songs to the tune of Falalalala, lalalala, at full 4yo volume...umm yeah, I might be able to hear by next week! After they were cool, it was time to get started decorating! Yippee! I cut the tops off of the store bought pink and red icing, broke out the sprinkles, and opened the regular can of frosting.
So it began. The decorating. First we iced the cupcakes, well rather the 4yo iced three, and decided to delegate the icing of the cupcakes to mom, that she would just "decorate."
So she decorated, and decorated, and decorated. She decorated the cupcakes all by herself.
This was the first year that she did it all by herself! I am so proud of my little girl! SHe is growing up on me I tell ya!
I just love this one! There was icing everywhere!
So then we decided we were going to make a half a dozen ice cream cupcakes for Daddy. So I got the ice cream out of the fridge. Breyer's is our favorite, so I cut each cupcake 2/3 of the way around, and slid 2-3 spoonfuls of ice cream into each one. I then hurried to ice each one, and shoved them back into the freezer, before they melted!
Meanwhile, somebody decided that she wanted some ice cream!
Busted!
The finished product. Decorated ice cream cupcakes! Handmade by everyone's favorite 4yo!
Here are the first set she decorated!
Here are all three plates of decorated cupcakes!
See now wasn't that easy? Maybe not as pretty as what her faces, err, ah, but at least we had a ball! Who needs neat, in the lines cupcakes anyway? Heehee!
So on to my unexpected boo hoo moment. When I was growing up, my mother was a crazy good baker. She was fierce when baking in her kitchen and whipping up her homemade cream cheese icing. She always saved me the last spoonful of her special icing. She always had a spoonful, and she saved me a spoonful. Well today, as I handed my daughter the last spoonful of icing, after my own spoonful, I had a feeling of deja vu come over me. As I was explaining the significance to my 4yo, I felt I had come full circle, I was now the mom shaing the last of the icing with my daughter. I felt my mother looking down from heaven smiling! And so I started crying. Just like that the flood gates burst open and I was boo hoooing, while eating icing with my little one.
As we were finishing our icing spoonfuls, I heard a car pull up into our driveway. Unexpected visitors! Great! I'm a blubbering mess! So I open the door, and my husband's grandparents have come to bring the 4yo a Valentine present and to put together her swingset. So we had a great visit with the great grandparents, and she gave them their hand made cupcakes with much pride!
After we played outside for awhile, hiked up and down the hill a few times, and got the trash out, it was lunch time. I sent the 4yo to wash up, and she left the water on. For 20 minutes! Ahhhhhh, gotta love my little one!
My daughter requires creative lunch, as I spoiled her long ago when I became a stay at home mom. This is quick and easy. Peanut butter bites with fruit.
So the day has flown by, and now I send my daughter to wash her hands after lunch. I finally sit down for what I think is going to be a quick minute, when she comes in with a dilemma.
4yo- "Momma, I need you."
Momma-"why do you need me?"
4yo-"because there's bubbles in the trash can!HeeHeeHeeHee."
Momma-"Why are there bubbles in the trash can?"
4yo-"They got there from the sink!"
OH DEAR!
So as I rush around the corner and down the hallway to the bathroom, I am picturing everything imaginable in my head, praying that she didn't overflow the sink!
And yes, she overflowed the sink, from turning the water on full force. Oh well, the floor needed mopped anyway! So after mop time, on to nappietime, this productive momma needs a big one nappie today! Just roll with it baby......
Monday, February 11, 2013
The New Toothbrush Incident
About five to six years ago, I had an incident with my toothbrush. It could have been a tragic incident, but I narrowly escaped permanent damage. I was in a hurry for work and was multitasking. I was brushing my teeth and my hair at the same time, as I was running late for work. May I mention this was before I had a baby, and before I learned how I had to get ready significantly earlier than our go time.
So I am one of those fast and furious, hard teeth brushers. I am anal about having clean teeth. Always have been, always will be. So Here I am multitasking, and whammo, just like that, I poke myself in the eye with a toothbrush. You did what you ask? Yes I jammed my toothbrush in my eye. I was using such force, It just slipped out of my mouth, ran up my cheek, and jammed right in my eye.
Yes I know how ridiculous it sounds. It makes me feel like the kid in A Christmas Story," you'll poke your eye out kid!" Yup, I did poke my eye out literally. Keep in mind that your toothbrush is one of the most disgusting germ filled items in your house. And No, I hadn't boiled mine recently!
So I call the eye doctor to schedule an emergency eye appointment. They got me in immediately. The nurse that answered the phone said you did what? You stuck a toothbrush on your eye? Wow....
So driving to the eye doctor 15 minutes away was excruciating, as it was a sunny day. I put on my sunglasses, and drove myself, as Hubbie the Dearest had already left for work. Can I just tell those of you,who have never had a scratch on your eye, several scratches, cuts, abrasions, detached corneas and the like , it hurts like a son of a gun. Your eye waters until it swells up, and swells closed from the constant watering. Your eye pours the tears to try to wash out whatever it is that is irritating your eye. The slightest light is excruciatingly painful, and bright sunlight is unbearable. Your other eye gets tired from doing all the work of two, and it becomes almost impossible to hold your eyes open.
So when I get to the eye doc, I discover that I have already become gossip fodder. I repeat my story like 10 times, and finally the eye doc comes in to see me. She made me feel not quite so stupid by telling me all of the crazy things people poke themselves in the eye with. She did say I was a first. I still to this day can say to anyone in her office, I'm the toothbrush incident girl, and they all know who I am.
So 10 eye doc appointments, several antibiotics, steroids and medicines, an eye patch, and about a month later, my eye was better. For a long time, whenever I didn't get enough sleep, or got too much chlorine in my eye, or when I slept with the fan on, etc, the many scratches and abrasions on my eye opened back up. I have since learned to be careful with my eyes, and all the triggers that reopen old wounds.
About a year after my eye had healed, Hubbie the Dearest insisted on sleeping with the fan on. One night, I rubbed my eye where it started itching because it was dry. Detached my cornea. So I had to learn not to rub my eyes in the morning.
So this brings us to today. I was brushing my teeth, fast and furiously as usual, when I did it again. I had another toothbrush incident. It slipped right out of my mouth and up my lips, only this time, I jammed it in my nose! I know right? GROSS! But let me just tell you, I said a little prayer thanking God for letting it end up in my nose not my eye! And, I just happened to have my phone in my pocket, so I immediately thought I would share the hilarity! Hope you are laughing as hard as I was!
So I am one of those fast and furious, hard teeth brushers. I am anal about having clean teeth. Always have been, always will be. So Here I am multitasking, and whammo, just like that, I poke myself in the eye with a toothbrush. You did what you ask? Yes I jammed my toothbrush in my eye. I was using such force, It just slipped out of my mouth, ran up my cheek, and jammed right in my eye.
Yes I know how ridiculous it sounds. It makes me feel like the kid in A Christmas Story," you'll poke your eye out kid!" Yup, I did poke my eye out literally. Keep in mind that your toothbrush is one of the most disgusting germ filled items in your house. And No, I hadn't boiled mine recently!
So I call the eye doctor to schedule an emergency eye appointment. They got me in immediately. The nurse that answered the phone said you did what? You stuck a toothbrush on your eye? Wow....
So driving to the eye doctor 15 minutes away was excruciating, as it was a sunny day. I put on my sunglasses, and drove myself, as Hubbie the Dearest had already left for work. Can I just tell those of you,who have never had a scratch on your eye, several scratches, cuts, abrasions, detached corneas and the like , it hurts like a son of a gun. Your eye waters until it swells up, and swells closed from the constant watering. Your eye pours the tears to try to wash out whatever it is that is irritating your eye. The slightest light is excruciatingly painful, and bright sunlight is unbearable. Your other eye gets tired from doing all the work of two, and it becomes almost impossible to hold your eyes open.
So when I get to the eye doc, I discover that I have already become gossip fodder. I repeat my story like 10 times, and finally the eye doc comes in to see me. She made me feel not quite so stupid by telling me all of the crazy things people poke themselves in the eye with. She did say I was a first. I still to this day can say to anyone in her office, I'm the toothbrush incident girl, and they all know who I am.
So 10 eye doc appointments, several antibiotics, steroids and medicines, an eye patch, and about a month later, my eye was better. For a long time, whenever I didn't get enough sleep, or got too much chlorine in my eye, or when I slept with the fan on, etc, the many scratches and abrasions on my eye opened back up. I have since learned to be careful with my eyes, and all the triggers that reopen old wounds.
About a year after my eye had healed, Hubbie the Dearest insisted on sleeping with the fan on. One night, I rubbed my eye where it started itching because it was dry. Detached my cornea. So I had to learn not to rub my eyes in the morning.
So this brings us to today. I was brushing my teeth, fast and furiously as usual, when I did it again. I had another toothbrush incident. It slipped right out of my mouth and up my lips, only this time, I jammed it in my nose! I know right? GROSS! But let me just tell you, I said a little prayer thanking God for letting it end up in my nose not my eye! And, I just happened to have my phone in my pocket, so I immediately thought I would share the hilarity! Hope you are laughing as hard as I was!
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Tattler Thursday #7
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
My Brains Rambling Randomness
I have read several great posts in the last couple of days. I have nothing 'big' to write about today. I am however going to give you a peek inside my brain for the last couple of days, and share with you my favorite posts from other bloggers.
The Last Eight
Moving sucks. There is no way around it. So I have moved, we are officially out of Kentucky, and settled in our new home in West Virginia. Pschew! I have been unpacking like a rock star, and all of our boxes are unpacked but the last eight. I am tired. I have taken a day off from unpacking here and there over the last two weeks. I have soaked in several scalding hot tubs to ease my aching bones! I have decorated and gotten everything pretty much in order, except for the hanging of pictures and the last eight. I am avoiding those last eight boxes and tubs like the plague! It is the contents of the last eight that are taunting me! I hate unpacking clothes! My clothes! There are eight tubs of bedroom stuff, mainly mine, that are just hanging out at the foot of my bed. Every morning I try my best to ignore them. So yesterday, I unpacked half of them. I am avoiding the rest, because my daddy is coming to visit this afternoon. Awesome! Perfect excuse!
I am so tired of unpacking! My brain just whines at the thought. It's not just the out of the tub and into the drawer that I dread, It's the going through the clothes and weeding out what doesn't get worn or fit anymore part that I abhor! I did not have time to do it as I was packing, so it needs to be done during the unpacking process! Whaaaaahhh! I have rearranged the boxes more than once, to make them appear less than they are. Sunday was the Superbowl, and I unpacked the rest of the kitchen boxes, because we were having people over for the first time!
Usually I like to hang the pictures first thing once the furniture is moved. Not this time. I have already pounded twenty six nails into the wall. So I have hung some pictures and decorations. There are approximately forty more that need to be hung. I am a photographer by nature, and on the side, and love, love, love pictures. I just cannot get motivated to do it yet.
So it will all get done, just not today!
The Uninvited Houseguest
So we are sitting on the couch Sunday evening after the Superbowl delay, and after our guests had left, and I see it. There crawling towards me on the upper part of the wall, is a coal black spider. Now you ask me how big it was? To me all spiders are huge, because I freaking hate them all! I can spot them across the room in the pitch black of night! No joke! It drives my husband crazy. So what do I do? I try to remain calm, and advise my husband what is on the wall, without alarming the four year old. I ask him to smoosh it, not smack it, so that it doesn't escape death and fall to the floor! He then climbs on the couch and smacks it with his shoe! And what happens then? It freaking falls to the floor. Hmph! Men and directions! Especially when our lives are in such grave danger! So I ask him to lean over the couch and look for it behind the couch. He does, and spots it still wiggling! Ugh! So I hop up, before it can further attack us, and pull the couch out. Hubbie the dearest just looks at me as if to say, "Are you really serious?" As a heart attack buddy! So he finally smooshes it, and wipes up the remains and sends it to its watery grave! Pschew, that was close! Listening, saves you time and sometimes effort, EVERY time! Did I mention I think the spider traveled with us from Kentucky in a floral arrangement? Yukk-o!
Hand Towels
Do you ever finish washing your hands, and then realize they smell funny? You then proceed to smell the hand towel, and it smells funny? Just when you finally finish washing all of the soap off from around your rings, have turned off the water after shaking all of the excess water from your hands, grab the towel, and thoroughly dry your fingers, when you smell something. You smell your fingers, and yep it's your fingers. Dam&%$! So then you have to traipse through the house and get another hand towel. Cursing under your breath the entire way. A towel that must pass the smell check first, and return to the bathroom. Now you have to wash them all over again! Yeah that sucks!
Piece of Glass
Yesterday I apparently stepped on a piece of glass. It took awhile for it to grind deep enough for it to start hurting, but start hurting it did. I sat down on the couch and lifted my foot up to my lap to search for the itsy bitsy piece of glass, or other offensive sharp thing poking me in the foot. I realized that this was an exercise in futility, when I felt the outside of my foot, and couldn't feel anything protruding from my foot. From this angle I couldn't see a thing. I became determined that I was going to find that piece of glass if it killed me. The right leg is the one I broke in August, and it only bends so far now. It no longer will twist around like a pretzel. This pissed me off. So I go into the bedroom, and prop the foot up on the bed, the other direction, turned outward. I was determined that I was going to best this tiny inanimate offender. Somehow I thought that bending my leg the other way would enable me to bend it in half, and get closer to my foot. I was wrong. I get halfway down to my foot, and I can go no farther. Now I am really furious! I try again from a sitting position on the bed, again with no luck. I decided to leave it until my husband got home from work, and have him look at my foot. It couldn't be that bad right? After all there was no trail of blood on the floor! Some days, it's just the littlest things!
Do It All Suzy Sunshine Mom of the Year
You know those moms who are on Facebook, who blog, and post all the pictures of their awesomeness? You know the ones. The Suzy Sunshine moms who make it their life goal to make you feel under productive and useless? The ones who make their own baby food, wash their own cloth diapers, who do 30 different crafts a day, half with their kid, half just to outshine everyone else in cyberland? The ones who nothing bad ever happens to? The ones whose husbands make a zillion dollars a year, the moms stay at home, and do Suzy Sunshine crafts and cooking all day? And post pictures to rub in our faces? The ones who have 10,000 kid crafts and learning games, and post online tutorials so you can do it with your kid too? Do gooders that must school everyone else on their awesomely quirky craftiness and cooking ability? They must outdo everyone else's dinner creations with their Martha Stewart like cooking prowess? The ones whose children are involved in 20 different activities at a time? To them I just want to say, good for you. I am not you, nor will I ever use cloth diapers, make my own baby food, become Martha Stewart, have a perfect life, post pretty food pictures to my FB or blog, post a how to tutorial on crafty crap(even though I am actually pretty crafty), sacrifice family time for too many activities, and never post bad, real life things so as to not mess up my perfect domestic diva internet image. These chics totally get me, they piss me off! Yes I am using colorful language today, I know I know! But I will always be true to myself, good or bad, tell you all about my crazy as$ life adventures, promise never to succumb to the internet 'Barbie' mold, and will always try to find the positive in everything! I know I am not the only one who just shakes my head at these mom/blogger/cave to peer pressure numbers ho's. I would rather read a good, deep, revealing honest, ugly blog entry any day, over a cookie cutter twinkie ho-ho looking for page views! Okay, I relinquish my podium and am stepping down from the soapbox now!
Filters
Have you ever wished that certain people did not know about your blog or Facebook? I find myself wishing this very thing when I find myself seething over some slight, intentional or not. I wish that I wasn't a lady all the time, and could say and/or write exactly what I thought sometimes. Some people have no filter. They have never had one, EVER.
I sometimes pretend I am just such a person, and could say exactly what I thought, and didn't give a hooey about how it affected others. But only for a second, and then I immediately would not want to be them, the person who has no friends, because I have no filter.
Because I am not allowed to lose my temper and say whatever I think, I find myself biting my tongue a lot, and not saying anything. The two times I can recall that I have said what I thought, I have ended up yelling, because I got so angry. So both times, I have ended up eating crow and apologizing out the ying yang. How come they get to say whatever the heck they think? And NEVER apologize? It is just not fair I tell you! I just take and take and take. Thank goodness I have other outlets!
It is also not fair that I have a whole bunch of outlets/close friends, that I can pickup with wherever we left off, no matter how long it has been. That is what's not really fair. I don't try to convince people that my way is the only way, and argue until I am blue in the face. I can appreciate differing opinions from my own, and am very accommodating and versatile. Some people are not. It just gets my goat how these people do not understand how acting the same way their whole lives, gets them the same result time after time! Stop the whining! Life's too short. Here's an alternate thought, what if I were to become one of these people and put it all out there, and just did not care about any opinion or feelings but my own, think it would shut them up?
MY Kid Not Yours
Ever just absolutely agree with how everyone else tells you how to raise your kid? Right, I did not think so! Especially when the finger pointing, talk badly about you and your rearing abilities and choices behind your back. Ever love those opinions that keep making themselves known, even though you really don't care? Ever have to bite your tongue from calling out the mothers of the year who are always the first to point the finger and accuse? The ones who are also the first to bring up any chance they get, any possible flaw or bad decision in your parenting history? Right, gotta love 'em. They are everywhere. Gotta love the not yet mothers, who think they will do so much better than you at rearing children and have everything all figured out for when they become parents, and the brand new mothers that know everything, more so than any other mother ever in the history of the world? Yeah, been there done both of those, got the badge. Learned some people actually have great tips, and some people have control complexes. Ya gotta know when to take advice, and when to nod your pretty little head and keep your mouth shut.
My favorite Blog posts from the last two days...
Life on Peanut Layne ...Hilarious, you have to check it out!
CHill Thoughts Brand new blogger that I went to school with, who shows great promise, and lays it all out there!
The Undead Journals ...My 20 year old, Sissy the Eldest, this is her awesome Zombie blog!
The Inklings of Life and Inklings February Photo Challenge ...I am participating in this funny lil gals February Photo Challenge, and I adore her blog!
Check these ladies out!
And that , as they say, is that! Have a great night!
The Last Eight
Moving sucks. There is no way around it. So I have moved, we are officially out of Kentucky, and settled in our new home in West Virginia. Pschew! I have been unpacking like a rock star, and all of our boxes are unpacked but the last eight. I am tired. I have taken a day off from unpacking here and there over the last two weeks. I have soaked in several scalding hot tubs to ease my aching bones! I have decorated and gotten everything pretty much in order, except for the hanging of pictures and the last eight. I am avoiding those last eight boxes and tubs like the plague! It is the contents of the last eight that are taunting me! I hate unpacking clothes! My clothes! There are eight tubs of bedroom stuff, mainly mine, that are just hanging out at the foot of my bed. Every morning I try my best to ignore them. So yesterday, I unpacked half of them. I am avoiding the rest, because my daddy is coming to visit this afternoon. Awesome! Perfect excuse!
I am so tired of unpacking! My brain just whines at the thought. It's not just the out of the tub and into the drawer that I dread, It's the going through the clothes and weeding out what doesn't get worn or fit anymore part that I abhor! I did not have time to do it as I was packing, so it needs to be done during the unpacking process! Whaaaaahhh! I have rearranged the boxes more than once, to make them appear less than they are. Sunday was the Superbowl, and I unpacked the rest of the kitchen boxes, because we were having people over for the first time!
Usually I like to hang the pictures first thing once the furniture is moved. Not this time. I have already pounded twenty six nails into the wall. So I have hung some pictures and decorations. There are approximately forty more that need to be hung. I am a photographer by nature, and on the side, and love, love, love pictures. I just cannot get motivated to do it yet.
So it will all get done, just not today!
The Uninvited Houseguest
So we are sitting on the couch Sunday evening after the Superbowl delay, and after our guests had left, and I see it. There crawling towards me on the upper part of the wall, is a coal black spider. Now you ask me how big it was? To me all spiders are huge, because I freaking hate them all! I can spot them across the room in the pitch black of night! No joke! It drives my husband crazy. So what do I do? I try to remain calm, and advise my husband what is on the wall, without alarming the four year old. I ask him to smoosh it, not smack it, so that it doesn't escape death and fall to the floor! He then climbs on the couch and smacks it with his shoe! And what happens then? It freaking falls to the floor. Hmph! Men and directions! Especially when our lives are in such grave danger! So I ask him to lean over the couch and look for it behind the couch. He does, and spots it still wiggling! Ugh! So I hop up, before it can further attack us, and pull the couch out. Hubbie the dearest just looks at me as if to say, "Are you really serious?" As a heart attack buddy! So he finally smooshes it, and wipes up the remains and sends it to its watery grave! Pschew, that was close! Listening, saves you time and sometimes effort, EVERY time! Did I mention I think the spider traveled with us from Kentucky in a floral arrangement? Yukk-o!
Hand Towels
Do you ever finish washing your hands, and then realize they smell funny? You then proceed to smell the hand towel, and it smells funny? Just when you finally finish washing all of the soap off from around your rings, have turned off the water after shaking all of the excess water from your hands, grab the towel, and thoroughly dry your fingers, when you smell something. You smell your fingers, and yep it's your fingers. Dam&%$! So then you have to traipse through the house and get another hand towel. Cursing under your breath the entire way. A towel that must pass the smell check first, and return to the bathroom. Now you have to wash them all over again! Yeah that sucks!
Piece of Glass
Yesterday I apparently stepped on a piece of glass. It took awhile for it to grind deep enough for it to start hurting, but start hurting it did. I sat down on the couch and lifted my foot up to my lap to search for the itsy bitsy piece of glass, or other offensive sharp thing poking me in the foot. I realized that this was an exercise in futility, when I felt the outside of my foot, and couldn't feel anything protruding from my foot. From this angle I couldn't see a thing. I became determined that I was going to find that piece of glass if it killed me. The right leg is the one I broke in August, and it only bends so far now. It no longer will twist around like a pretzel. This pissed me off. So I go into the bedroom, and prop the foot up on the bed, the other direction, turned outward. I was determined that I was going to best this tiny inanimate offender. Somehow I thought that bending my leg the other way would enable me to bend it in half, and get closer to my foot. I was wrong. I get halfway down to my foot, and I can go no farther. Now I am really furious! I try again from a sitting position on the bed, again with no luck. I decided to leave it until my husband got home from work, and have him look at my foot. It couldn't be that bad right? After all there was no trail of blood on the floor! Some days, it's just the littlest things!
Do It All Suzy Sunshine Mom of the Year
You know those moms who are on Facebook, who blog, and post all the pictures of their awesomeness? You know the ones. The Suzy Sunshine moms who make it their life goal to make you feel under productive and useless? The ones who make their own baby food, wash their own cloth diapers, who do 30 different crafts a day, half with their kid, half just to outshine everyone else in cyberland? The ones who nothing bad ever happens to? The ones whose husbands make a zillion dollars a year, the moms stay at home, and do Suzy Sunshine crafts and cooking all day? And post pictures to rub in our faces? The ones who have 10,000 kid crafts and learning games, and post online tutorials so you can do it with your kid too? Do gooders that must school everyone else on their awesomely quirky craftiness and cooking ability? They must outdo everyone else's dinner creations with their Martha Stewart like cooking prowess? The ones whose children are involved in 20 different activities at a time? To them I just want to say, good for you. I am not you, nor will I ever use cloth diapers, make my own baby food, become Martha Stewart, have a perfect life, post pretty food pictures to my FB or blog, post a how to tutorial on crafty crap(even though I am actually pretty crafty), sacrifice family time for too many activities, and never post bad, real life things so as to not mess up my perfect domestic diva internet image. These chics totally get me, they piss me off! Yes I am using colorful language today, I know I know! But I will always be true to myself, good or bad, tell you all about my crazy as$ life adventures, promise never to succumb to the internet 'Barbie' mold, and will always try to find the positive in everything! I know I am not the only one who just shakes my head at these mom/blogger/cave to peer pressure numbers ho's. I would rather read a good, deep, revealing honest, ugly blog entry any day, over a cookie cutter twinkie ho-ho looking for page views! Okay, I relinquish my podium and am stepping down from the soapbox now!
Filters
Have you ever wished that certain people did not know about your blog or Facebook? I find myself wishing this very thing when I find myself seething over some slight, intentional or not. I wish that I wasn't a lady all the time, and could say and/or write exactly what I thought sometimes. Some people have no filter. They have never had one, EVER.
I sometimes pretend I am just such a person, and could say exactly what I thought, and didn't give a hooey about how it affected others. But only for a second, and then I immediately would not want to be them, the person who has no friends, because I have no filter.
Because I am not allowed to lose my temper and say whatever I think, I find myself biting my tongue a lot, and not saying anything. The two times I can recall that I have said what I thought, I have ended up yelling, because I got so angry. So both times, I have ended up eating crow and apologizing out the ying yang. How come they get to say whatever the heck they think? And NEVER apologize? It is just not fair I tell you! I just take and take and take. Thank goodness I have other outlets!
It is also not fair that I have a whole bunch of outlets/close friends, that I can pickup with wherever we left off, no matter how long it has been. That is what's not really fair. I don't try to convince people that my way is the only way, and argue until I am blue in the face. I can appreciate differing opinions from my own, and am very accommodating and versatile. Some people are not. It just gets my goat how these people do not understand how acting the same way their whole lives, gets them the same result time after time! Stop the whining! Life's too short. Here's an alternate thought, what if I were to become one of these people and put it all out there, and just did not care about any opinion or feelings but my own, think it would shut them up?
MY Kid Not Yours
Ever just absolutely agree with how everyone else tells you how to raise your kid? Right, I did not think so! Especially when the finger pointing, talk badly about you and your rearing abilities and choices behind your back. Ever love those opinions that keep making themselves known, even though you really don't care? Ever have to bite your tongue from calling out the mothers of the year who are always the first to point the finger and accuse? The ones who are also the first to bring up any chance they get, any possible flaw or bad decision in your parenting history? Right, gotta love 'em. They are everywhere. Gotta love the not yet mothers, who think they will do so much better than you at rearing children and have everything all figured out for when they become parents, and the brand new mothers that know everything, more so than any other mother ever in the history of the world? Yeah, been there done both of those, got the badge. Learned some people actually have great tips, and some people have control complexes. Ya gotta know when to take advice, and when to nod your pretty little head and keep your mouth shut.
My favorite Blog posts from the last two days...
Life on Peanut Layne ...Hilarious, you have to check it out!
CHill Thoughts Brand new blogger that I went to school with, who shows great promise, and lays it all out there!
The Undead Journals ...My 20 year old, Sissy the Eldest, this is her awesome Zombie blog!
The Inklings of Life and Inklings February Photo Challenge ...I am participating in this funny lil gals February Photo Challenge, and I adore her blog!
Check these ladies out!
And that , as they say, is that! Have a great night!
Friday, February 1, 2013
A Not-So Snow Day for Mom
Today my Lil Punkin Doo woke Hubbie the Dearest and I up, by climbing into our bed, snuggling down, and saying good morning! What a sweet way to wake up(but way too early after staying up until almost 2:30 in the morning!) I asked her if she had looked outside yet, there was a surprise waiting on her. She looked outside, and with a 4yo's excitement, eagerly asked to go out and play in the almost four inches of snow that fell overnight! I love sharing in the excitement through her child's eyes!
I fixed her a quick breakfast of a Pop Tart and milk, so we could hurry out and play in the snow before it melted! So I wolf down my identical breakfast of champions, as I get the 4yo's snow bibs out of her closet. I decide to open the front door and take a picture of the snow, while the little one is scarfing down her breakfast. I open the door and this is what I find; the trunk of my car left open from Hubbie the Dearest carrying in our groceries last night. This morning is off to an awesome start! It can only get better right? Riiiight.
I then come back in and proceed to advise Hubbie what he will be responsible for cleaning up after work. It's not like it is going to melt in ten degree weather! I then come back to the living room to slide my child into her snow bibs, and after I am done, I look down to where she was sitting while eating her breakfast. Covered in crumbs from the one Pop Tart she ate. How do one 4yo and one Pop Tart make such a mess? How does one even bite a Pop Tart to make so many crumbs? So after cleaning up the Pop Tart crumb mess, I am coming back into the living room, where I advise my child to finish drinking all of her milk before we go outside and play in the snow. She apparently puts her mouth around the bottle, and proceeds to chug. My husband then says something to her, which causes her to break the seal and laugh. Yup, uh huh. You guessed it. She spews chocolate milk all over my new iPhone and her White Bible! I find myself saying to her, before I think," you just spewed chocolate milk all over Jesus!" The hubbie finds this hilarious.
So now it's chocolate milk clean up time, and time to pray to Jesus that she did not ruin my new phone! She has quite a trajectory, just like her past projectile vomiting incidents. So I find myself finding more and more area she covered with the spray of chocolate milk, the couch, the floor, the table, my pants, you get the picture.
Next, Hubbie the Dearest goes out to start the car, to let it warm up. He comes back in and commences to search for his key ring(he is taking my car to work today, it is better in the snow), which has his work keys on them. He searches high and low for his keys, having no success, but leaving in his wake, a trail of still frozen Doc Marten, size twelve tread shaped, snow clumps. All over my clean floors. They start melting immediately. Yet another mess to clean up. He sits down on the couch to wait while the car supposedly warmed up and melted off the snow. He kicks the recliner up and props his feet up. Drip, drip, drip. A puddle of water is now under his feet as well, which in my mother's mind, foresee the 4yo dancing through later and busting her a$% on the wet hardwood floors. So off I go to the kitchen for more paper towels to wipe up the puddles, that are all over the floor.
We finally make it outside, and Hubbie the Dearest is sitting in my still snow covered car, blinking at me like a kitty who wants more milk. I get the child size broom(2.5 ft tall) because we lost the full size one, my favorite pink broom, in the Flying Truck of Horrors incident, which you can read all about here; Misadventures In Moving . Smooshed into a razor like thin strip of metal! I proceed to shove all of the snow off of the car for him with the tot size broom, so he doesn't have to do it in his suit and tie. I also get the scraper out of the car, and finish scraping the ice off of the back windshield, which is completely covering the back glass, except for the little porthole shaped circle he scraped off to be able to see out. Somedays I have to wonder, what would he do without me? (and vice versa)
So my Lil punkin Doo grabs the broom and proceeds to clean off Daddy's headlights.(see above picture) Too cute! My little helper! So then we proceed to get down to business, playing in this glorious amount of snow! We wave at Daddy as he drives off to work, and here are pictures of the rest of our morning! Snow makes everything better! I am so blessed! No matter how crazy things get, or how many messes I clean up, I am always counting my blessings! So here is one of my biggest ones !Enjoy!
My other favorite, eyelash snowflakes!
And then we went inside for hot cocoa, and my Lil Punkin Doo made a different special request, popsicles! So what started out as my not so snow day for mom, had a very happy ending!
Image by FontMeme
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