I'm still stuck in the 50's.

Photo courtesy of Project Laundry List.

Kids R Gross

We all know kids are gross and I'm about to give you another reason!

Yesterday, I brought KM to McD's to eat lunch. We usually go to McD's on Thursdays because I volunteer at the church on Thursdays and we have to grab a quick lunch before we pick up Elisan from school.

This day was no different from the other zillion times I've been to McD's. So... KM finishes up her lunch (or, she eats all that she is going to eat - which is next to nothing) and she heads over to the indoor playscape. She's playing and having a ball.

As I'm surveying the other kids, I see this one little girl in particular. She was wearing a bright sundress and underneathe her dress, I could see what appeared to be part of her diaper hanging down. My first instinct was... 'Wow, she's still in diapers?' because this girl looked to be the same age as KM. But, whatever...

So, the next time I see her, she coming down the slide. Leg up and out and I notice her diaper is deteriorating fast. She scrambles off the slide and climbs back up the playscape.

By this time, I'm watching for her. She comes back down the slide and as she gets off the slide, she takes a few hops and lo and behold... diaper filling and gel bits go flying about all over the (already nasty) floor.

Totally oblivious, as well she should be, she's a preschooler... she goes on about her play.

Meanwhile, kids are running through the gel bits and filling and at one point a small toddler began to crawl through the muck.

Thankfully! Thankfully, KM was in a totally different area when the diaper exploded and much to her chagrin, I told her it was time to go.

About the same time, mom of said preschooler, began collecting their things to leave as well. And she was totally oblivious to what had happened. So much so, that she left with the little girl on her hip and proceeded to buckle her into her carseat.

As she was leaving, I was thinking to myself that once the little girl stopped playing and was finally settled into her carseat, she would decide to relieve herself in the vehicle.

My guess is that she did. And, my guess is that mom finally realized the diaper had disintegrated.

Potty training, anyone?

Big Spender

It's no secret that I'm a thrifty kind of girl. Oh, alright - tight... cheap... whatever! And, it's also no secret that I love H.E.B.

Put those two together and what do you have? H.E.B. brand toilet paper.

Don't get me wrong, it's not great, but it's not bad. It's what I buy and my family is accustomed to it and I haven't heard any complaints about it from them.

Rewind to yesterday. We were needing toilet paper in a baaad way, so yesterday at Target I made a bee-line to the t.p. aisle to get some necessary supplies.

I went straight to the Target brand, because... well, because you know why... I'm cheap. It's toilet paper, made for the toilet. Haven't you heard the old saying, "it's just like throwing money down the toilet"? Well, there ya go.

Ahem.

Anyway, so as I'm checking out Target's brand, I notice that it a little skimpy and does not look soft and fluffy. Yeah, I don't think so... not on my bum!

So, I turn around and what do I see? (Insert angelic choir...) Charmin Plus Bathroom Tissue - With Aloe & E! I had forgotten about the soft fluffy Charmin paper. So, ya know what? I splurged and bought the fancy t.p.

Fast forward to this morning...

As I'm walking up the stairs, I see E is finishing up some morning business and in a very excited voice she exclaims, "Mommy! I love this toilet paper. It makes the poop come off easier!"

So, there you have it folks. Not only is Charmin the softest toilet paper around, it makes the poop come off easier.

Spring is Springing!

The difference is like night and day

Why is it so hard for me to wrap my mind around the fact that two same sex kids...conceived by the same two parents...nurtured and reared in the same manner... can be so extremely different in so many ways?

Not only to KM and Elisan look differently, but they act differently, play differently, eat differently, talk differently, learn differently and even love differently. How can this be?

Okay, I'm not THAT blonde... but seriously, I figured that hey... having two girls - they'll at least look alike. Nope.

And the sad thing about it is, that I'm still dumb-founded by their distinct differences every day.

• Elisan is contemplative and intentional. KM is random and spontaneous.
• Elisan has concentration levels that can surpass that of an adult. KM? Not so much.
• Elisan is sensitive. KM is not.

The list goes on and on... and, I'll spare you for now.

But because of this, I've noticed I treat them differently. Because Elisan is so intentional and sensitive, I find myself seeking out items that I know she will love and be proud to have. Like a glittery shirt, or a new accessory or a new game. KM is happy with a piece of candy or a juice box.

Maybe it's the age of the girls that I find myself catering more to Elisan's needs/desires - because she is older and appreciates it more... or maybe it's just as I described above... that I have to feed her emotional well-being. Who knows?

I'm glad my girls are so different, but I need to begin to recognize - no, celebrate - their differences and not be so hung up on comparing the two. Elisan is Elisan and Kyla Mae is Kyla Mae. The are different. They are beautiful. And they are mine.

Guilty Pleasure

Nope. My guilty pleasure is not in some kind of delectable chocolate truffle. Nor is it shopping... although, I must admit, I do love to shop.

My guilty pleasure is not soaking in a long hot bath, reading a magazine cover to cover. And, it's not getting a much needed pedicure.

Nope. None of that... although, that all sounds pretty nice.

My guilty pleasure is stealing away in my craft room for an hour in the afternoon. And why is that? Why do I feel guilt?

I don't know... perhaps it's the dirty floors that need to be swept, or the laundry that needs to be finished up and put away. I don't know... but more and more, I feel 100% guilt ridden when I sit down at my table with a craft idea in mind.

That totally bugs me too. I want to be able to be creative, do something creative, do something for me... And you know, the only time I don't feel guilty... is when I'm doing something for the girls - like making hairbows, bracelets or pillows, etc. Because that's for THEM. But, when it comes to me doing something for me? Forget that.

Sheesh. How did it come to this? Am I the only one who feels this way, or am I just totally losing touch with reality? Is it possible to steal away an hour, in the waking hours of the day, taking time from my kids without feeling guilty? Anyone?

Recovering

(This is my official disclaimer for any events that are apparently out of my control.)

Last week was just the pits. Not only did we return from a long (and tiring) 4 day trip, with mounds of laundry to boot, I also returned home with seasonal allergies and a full blown allergy attack. Couple that with PMS and wha-la! You've got... well,... you've got a bad reaction to say the least.

My brain is still in defunct mode and I can't seem to break out of this fog. Trying to think if it because we're on the brink of Spring and I'm slowly coming out of hibernation? Or maybe just having a blond week? Or maybe I'm just tired, over-worked, underpaid and need a swift kick in the rear-end?

So, if I have neglected to return an email, wish birthday greetings, turn in important paperwork, miss an appointment or return a phone call, um.... what can I say... other than... I'm having an out of brain experience right now. Please check your number or try your call again.

Tag, you're it!

I've been tagged by Leigh Ann!

Here's goes:

1. If you could build a house anywhere, where would it be? I'm already living the dream...right here in Texas!

2. What's your favorite article of clothing? My jeans

3. Favorite physical feature of the opposite sex? Hair

4. What's the last CD that you bought? "Forget Paris" soundtrack

5. Where's your favorite place to be? At home

6. Where is your least favorite place to be? Stuck in traffic (I'm stealing LA's answer, because it is so true!)

7. What's your favorite place to be massaged? My back.

8. Strong in mind or strong in body? Mind

9. What time do you wake up in the morning? Around 5:40AM

10. What is your favorite kitchen appliance? Dish washer

11. What makes you really angry? Incompetence

12. If you could play any instrument, what would it be? I already play the flute and piano

13. Favorite color? Pink

14. Which do you prefer...sports car or SUV? Sports car - drove one for years! Loved it.

15. Do you believe in an afterlife? Yep! Heaven or Hell.

16. Favorite children's book? "Turtle Time: A Bedtime Story" or "Where the Sidewalk Ends"

17. What is your favorite season? Spring

18. Your least favorite household chore? Mopping

19. If you could have one super power, what would it be? To eliminate stupidity.

20. If you have a tattoo, what is it? No tattoos here.

21. Can you juggle? Nope.

22. The one person from your past that you wish you could go back and talk to? No one comes to mind...

23. What's your favorite day? Monday... yes, I know.

24. What's in the trunk of your car? umbrella stroller

25. Which do you prefer, sushi or hamburger? Hamburger

I tag: Kristi, Angie and Amanda

Desperation, not necessity, is the mother of invention

I'm a liar and I admit it freely. Ahem.

Let me start by saying I don't pride my self on being a liar, but reality is... I am one.

When we got the mini-van I remember telling at least one person (if not many) that the DVD player would be for long trips in the van to visit the grandparents or the like. I did not want to be one of 'those' moms who played the DVD player in the van just to zip down the road to the grocery store for milk or bread.

It began as a slippery slope of events that led up to this...my true confessional... that I am about to reveal today.

It started out as the only way Randy and I could get to have a conversation in the van on the way to run errands. "Can I put a DVD in so we can have a conversation?" is how it began.

Then, it was while we were in the pick up line at school, waiting for dismissal that I'd let KM watch a show.

Or, sitting in a traffic jam on the way to school because of the #$*@%!^ traffic on my morning commute.

And now, it's just darn near every time we get into the van. Why? Well, I'll tell you why. Because if I don't give them a distraction I end up losing my patience and I begin to get upset. Then it just... well,... it goes downhill from there. It's really for the benefit of my children that I set up a show for them on the DVD player, if not for my own sanity.

I can totally see now, why some moms insist on playing a DVD for simple trips to the store. It's saving my sanity each and every day.

Perhaps the mom who had the bright idea to just have those DVD players installed in mini-vans should be given the Nobel Peace prize... for maintaining... well, peace.

Highlights

Elisan was out of school Friday through Monday, so I seized the opportunity for a girl's weekend. We took a road trip to see the grandparents. Yes, exciting, I know.

We had a great weekend, but I'll only highlight the big stuff. Saturday, we went to see my nephew play basketball with the Little Dribbler's league. Come to find out, none other than Tracy Byrd was sitting within spittin' distance of my family and me. His son is on my nephew's team. So, basically, we were all 'Byrd watching' the entire game.

By the way... he's a local boy to where I grew up, but it's still neat to see a real life country music star take an interest in things such as his 9 year old son's basketball game.

Later that day, my mother and I trekked to the mall for what I thought would be one of the simplest shopping trips of my life. Boy, was I wrong. The deal is, that Randy has his company party this coming up weekend and it's semi-formal. The last two times I went to this party I swore I would not be under-dressed, like I had been before. So, after HOURS of searching for dresses and trying on endless amounts of clothing, I finally found a beaded top and flowing black pants. Other than the skirt part, this is how it will look on (a model). So, hopefully now, I will be dressed appropriately and make a good showing at Randy's company event.

Both girls had a night in mommy's bed while we were away. Kyla Mae spent Friday night in the bed with me. I woke up in the morning with Kyla's foot shoved down the back of my underwear. I guess her feet got cold overnight?

Then Sunday, Elisan had her turn in my bed and she woke me up with her usual sleep talking. This time she exclaimed, "bellissimo" 3 times in her sleep. Now, she's speaking Italian?

So, that's the highlights of the trip. Loads of fun, eh? As always, it's good to be back...

Entitlement

Randy and I often have conversations about the "Entitlement Theory". There seems to be a vast population of people out there that seem to think that something... whatever... is owed to them.

Not sure why. Maybe because of the plain and simple fact that they exist? Who knows.

We don't preach entitlement at our home. If anything, we teach our kids that you work hard for the things that you want and even then, you don't always get what you want.

So, imagine my surprise when my dear child tried to persuade me - using the entitlement argument.

Here's how it went down:

Me, "Elisan, what do you want in your lunch today? Peanut butter and jelly sandwich, ham and cheese sandwich, or a lunchable?"

Elisan, "None of those taste good to me anymore."

Me, "Uh-huh. Okay, so which one of those do you want?"

Elisan, "Nothing."

Me, "Okay."


Minutes pass...

Me, "Elisan, last time... what do you want to eat for lunch?"

Elisan, "Well, mommy, some of my friend's mommy's bring them their lunches from McDonalds. I think I want that today."

Me, "Yeah... well, that's not going to happen today. So, a lunchable?"

Elisan, "Okay." (Looooong sigh.)


So, yes, my child not only thinks she is entitled, but privileged as well.

(Darn those entitled kids.)

"CLICK"

The other night, after dinner, we sent Kyla Mae into the bathroom to wash her hands. She's known to spend an inordinate amount of time in the bathroom -- playing with the light switch, using too much foam soap or just running the water on full blast for, oh.... 2 minutes or so. This particular night was no different.

A minute later, Elisan doubles over and decides that she needs to go potty - and fast!

Kyla heard Elisan proclaim her bathroom announcement and as soon as Elisan is high-tailing it to the bathroom, we hear "click".

Kyla locked the bathroom door on Elisan. Meanwhile, Elisan is beating on the door pleading with Kyla to let her in, saying that she can't hold it any longer (she's like me... I wait and hold it until the last minute too!). But the door never unlocked. It was not until Randy and I both told her to unlock the door did she let her in.

A few moments later, Kyla comes bouncing out of the bathroom. Barely able to contain our laughter, I ask her if she locked sissy out of the bathroom. She said she did. I asked her if she was being mean to sissy and she said yeah. Randy in his best "stern voice, but I can't stop laughing because it's so darn funny" face, tells Kyla that what she did was naughty. Totally unfazed... she bounced into the next room to play.

Funny on many levels, especially if you know KM, but the fact that she thought fast enough to lock the door as soon as Elisan needed the bathroom was priceless. She's three, but she has the mind of a... well,... five year old?

They're multiplying like bunnies...

I'm all out of light bulbs

Elisan is sick... or maybe she isn't. Honestly, I'm not sure. But, we're home and she's not going to school.

She's five! Shouldn't I be able to tell when my child is sick? Her complaints are headache, tummy ache and sore throat. What is that? Oh, and she has 99.5 fever. Is it the flu? Or is she one good actress?

I don't know. So, meanwhile, she's barking orders from the couch, while I'm worrying whether or not I made the right decision to keep her out of school. I guess only time will tell.

Like I said, my light bulb must've burned out 'cause I can't make heads or tails out of this one.

EDITED TO ADD:
I got my bulb back... she's sick, but not with the flu, or strep... but, with some nasty virus that "been goin' around." And to further solidify the findings, she threw up while I was at the store picking up some weekend provisions. Joy.

The smirking bunny...

The last of the Wee Bunny installment.

Say good-bye to this bunny. I'm done.

But, I'll be back with more bunny news soon...

A mother's love

Sometimes, as I'm contemplating life in general, I almost always stop and try to wrap my mind around the fact that I have two girls. I realize that it is not uncommon to have girls and I don't find myself to be particularly out of the ordinary by having two of them.

However, what strikes me though each time, is that I (Erica) have two girls to raise into independent young women, with high morals, strong values and anything else that will equip them be responsible adults. Of course, I'm not going at it alone... I have Randy to help me along the way. Honestly, I would not be able to do it alone and I'm thankful I don't have to.

The scary part of it is, that although I turned out to be a responsible adult with strong values and high morals, I still shudder at the thought of what I put my mother (and father) through in my teenage years and early adulthood. There were times, I'm sure that they questioned my morals and values more than I care to know. I know what I was like, and I hope... no, I pray, that my girls will not travel the same paths that I did. If there were some way for me to guard them from making the same mistakes I made, I would, but I know that is not possible.

My mother protected me from one of my worst mistakes. A mistake that could have cost much more than I would have ever anticipated. That mistake is something that I don't mind sharing about because it taught me a lesson about a mother's discernment.

While I was in high school I began running around with a girl that was truly a bad influence. Oh, she was not a dope head or promiscuous... she was just rebellious. Her father was a high profile F.B.I. agent, which meant to her that she had to... no, needed to... buck authority any chance she could. Because of that, she was a bad influence.

I will admit though... I really liked her. She was fun to be around, had no inhibitions, she was creative, funny and best of all, she thought I was fun to be around, creative and funny too. We were like two peas in a pod the last two years of high school. I shunned my wealth of faithful friends for my one new friend. (Side note: One of my "shunned"friends reads my blog now, and we're still friends. Thanks for giving me a second chance!)

Fast forward to the Summer after high school graduation - 1991. It was during this Summer that my rebellious stage took a sharp turn. I began lying and sneaking out. I was drinking and partying. I was wrapped around the finger of my friend and basically her puppet. I did what she did and was happy to be doing it.

One day, we had plans to go to the mall. While we were in the dressing room at the GAP, my friend decided she was going to shoplift some of the clothes she was trying on. This was the first time I had ever witnessed her stealing, but by the looks of it, she was a pro at it. So, we walked out, and I was amazed at how easy it was. Truthfully, it had never occurred to me up until that moment to shoplift. I'm not wired that way.

We then headed over to the big department store. The whole walk over, I was grilling her about what had just happened. She just shrugged it off and said she does it all the time. I couldn't believe it. Here I am, in this hard place because as much as I knew it was wrong to shoplift, I was also with my best friend whom I trusted. So, in the dressing room she begins to stuff the clothes into her purse, into my purse, into our shopping bag, etc. It was insane. And there I was, right along side her. It was one of those moments where you are actually looking down upon yourself, saying, "what the heck are you doing!!" but not being able to stop it.

So, we walked out. And we did it. I couldn't believe it, but again, it was so easy.

I got home later that afternoon with the stuff and I shoved it in the back of my closet. I knew that if my mother saw what I had brought home, she would know that I would not have had the money to buy any of it.

Well, she must've sensed that something was up, because later that day she began to question me about the mall trip. Did you buy anything? You were there a long time... Did your friend buy anything? I gave you money to go to the mall... did you spend it? Etc., etc. The next day, still sensing something was up, she went poking around in my closet and of course, she found the stash.

Now, I know there is a faction of people out there who would not condone my mother snooping around in my closet. But, the fact is that I was a resident of their home and I was giving her a darn good reason to be suspicious. Besides, her finding the loot was one of the most pivotal moments in my life.

So, the short of the long of it was that she found the stuff and boy was I in trouble! My mother's original plan was to have me bring the items back to the store and apologize. Thankfully, I talked her out of it. I think she realized that I could have some serious repercussions from that. So, I hand wrote out an apology letter and mailed the items back to the store. My punishment? In exchange for not hand-delivering the stuff back to the store, I was not allowed to see my best friend ever again.

Trust me, being caught shoplifting by my mother may not seem as harsh, as being caught by the store security, but let me set that straight... it was probably worse. Not only had I broken her trust, but I let her down... immensely. She had warned me and warned me about my friend and was very vocal about her dislike for her, even before I really hit the highlight of my rebellion stage, but I never listened.

Yet at that moment, my mother seized the perfect opportunity to sever the relationship that I had with my friend, before it ruined my life for good.

Who knows what would've happened had I my mother turned me in to the department store security. It was a real and frightening possibility. She was not just tossing around idle threats. Instead, she looked at the broader picture and saved me from myself.

I guess what this all boils down to is this. You can't expect that your children will do what you want them to do, when you want them to do it. And you can't expect your children to make the best choices in life, even if you've equipped them to make right choices. But, you can stand firm, along side them and help them as they go.

Had I not gotten the love and help from my mom, who knows where I'd be today. And, not just in this instance, but other times, when she stood by and let me make my mistake, but was there to help me pick up the pieces, or when she stood her ground and made decisions on my behalf. Whatever the case may be... my mother's love, help and intuition guided me and molded me into who I am today.

Perhaps I shudder at the thought of having two girls who will one day be teenagers (at the same time!), but I know that in my heart, I will be there to help them, guide them, lay down the law when necessary and of course, love them through all of their pitfalls and victories.

I want them to know, just as I knew, that they are loved more than anything else, unconditionally and without a doubt by their mother.

A mother's love.

Weeeeeeee!

Once I figure out how to add the eyes and embroider the face (yeah...right!) I'll be done. Until then... here is my faceless Wee Bunny! And you thought I couldn't do it!

Lipstick Personality Test!

Let's have some fun! Take the Lipstick Personality Test and post your results in the comments area!

Erica's Results:

Stays close to original tip slant:

• Abides by the rules
• Great follower
• Does not like too much attention
• A little self-conscious
• Somewhat reserved
• Likes a schedule
• May occasionally color hair to attract attention

Do something creative everyday

I found these really pretty glass beads at my favorite craft store. I couldn't resist making not one, but two necklaces and matching earrings. This is my first attempt at making earrings and I thought they turned out nice.

Why, oh why?

Can someone tell me why drink makers insist on making RED fruit beverages for kids?

I'm now looking at my stained kitchen floor from spilled Hawaiian Punch drink from lunch today. I don't ever buy that stuff...it just happened to come in the Lunchable that KM had to eat for lunch today.

C'mon, people. They're kids! For the love of all that is just and good... can we have some clear fruit beverages?

Meanwhile, I'm stuck looking at my stained floor.

Joy.

Or maybe, just maybe... the joke is on me. Maybe it's a conspiracy that the beverage makers have going on with the flooring industry. Yeah. That's it.

I'm going to chalk it up as just that. A conspiracy. Right alongside global warming.

Old People

I love old people.

Old people have earned the right to say anything they want. Right or wrong, good or bad, they say what they mean, and mean what they say.

Old people do as they please and oftentimes fore go political correctness in the pursuit of 'their way.' A supreme example of this was demonstrated to us several weeks ago at a local eating establishment.

It was a Friday and Randy had the day off, so he took KM and me to lunch at one of the new restaurants in our little town. As expected, it was crowded with lunch-goers.

About mid-way into our dining experience a child on the other side of the restaurant began to throw a tantrum. At first, a few heads turned, looking in the direction of the child, but then went on about their business. The tantrum continued and a minute later an uncomfortableness crept into the restaurant as people began shifting in their seats and whispering about the child that was having a meltdown. Another minute passed and the child was not stopping her apparent battle of the wills.

People, the tantrum lasted at least 3 minutes. Now, stop and consider this for a moment. THREE MINUTES. THREE. 180 seconds of non-stop screaming.

What was the parent doing all this time? Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zero. She was ignoring her and continuing her conversation with the other three adults at her table.

What was the old guy sitting across from our table doing? He was walking over to the table with the three adults and one screaming kid to kindly ask the woman to tend to her child.

The old guy then returned to his table to finish his meal.

Well, I don't know what he said to her, but miraculously the child stopped crying! But, the mom started. She cried and complained to the manager that she was told to control her child by "that" man, pointing in the direction of the old guy. The manager then went over to the old guy and told him that this was his restaurant and that HE would handle his patrons, not HIM.

As you can imagine, the mom's meal was comped and she and her party immediately left the restaurant, if for nothing else, out of sheer embarrassment.

A part of me is glad the old guy had enough guts to stand up to the woman and her screaming child, if not for himself, but for the other 50 patrons in the restaurant. The other part of me is sad that it even had to come to that.

I realize the mother did not want to give into her child's demands, thereby ignoring her tantrum, but at the expense of 50 other patrons? Ummm, I think not.

Regardless of the situation, we thought it was comical.

Like I said, right or wrong... old people say what they mean, and mean what they say.

By the way, that same old guy complimented us on his way out on our well-behaved three-year old child, who was sitting quietly hoarding all of the chips and salsa to herself.

Could this be any sweeter?

I snapped this photo this morning of the girls as they were curled up together on the couch watching cartoons before Elisan went to school. This is the kind of moment that I want to sear in my mind of my two best girls!

(Side note: Notice the pillows? They each are resting their heads on their kitty cat pillow.)

Pillow talk of a different sorts

Randy has been out of town the last few days on business. So, as an incentive to encourage good behaviour on the part of Elisan, I promised her that she could sleep in mommy's bed one night while daddy was away.

Monday night, she lost the privilege to sleep in my bed with me. Jumping on the bed trying to reach the butterfly mobile doesn't really equate in my book's standard of discipline as a reward. She was very upset by it, understandably so. I mean, who wouldn't want to sleep with mommy, right?

So, Tuesday night rolls around and she maintained her good behaviour status and she happily bounced into my bedroom, with princess pillow in hand to slumber in my bed. When I told her that I wasn't going to bed when she did (at 7:30 p.m) she was a little shocked. That wasn't part of her plan... I can only assume she wanted to talk to me incessantly until finally she fell asleep. But, then, she (like her mom) had a light bulb moment and said, "Oh. I'll just stay up with you, until you are ready to go to sleep." Ummm, not so fast, missy....

So, after finally convincing her that she was in fact going to bed at that moment, with out me, I retired to the living room downstairs for some much needed relaxation.

About 10 p.m., I went to bed. About 11 p.m., the talk-fest began.

She talks in her sleep. Not only does she talk incessantly throughout the day, she talks in her sleep as well. And, yes... that trait she gets from me, because I too, am a sleep talker. Early in our marriage, Randy was a little startled by it, since I tended to holler and yell out in my dreams. But, now, he just rolls over and ignores me.

After hearing Elisan sleep talk last night, it gave me a bit of an insight into Randy's world. At one point during the night, Elisan was hollering too... but, at me... for cutting her paper. I asked her this morning about it and she clearly remembered me cutting her paper in her dream.

Ah...what a peaceful night of rest I had last night. Next time, I think I'll just promise to take them to their favorite restaurant as an incentive, rather than a night in mommy's bed. I think it will do us all a world of good.

Kyla's Apron

This is Kyla's apron that I made for her. I bought remnant fabric for $1.00 in the clearance bin at Wal-Mart. I love the Winnie-the-Pooh toile print. I bought 2 yards of matching grosgrain ribbon and a package of ric-rac trim.

Total cost was approximately $2.50.

Cute huh?

33%

Today, I ventured out to the mall. It's been a good long time since I've ventured out to the mall, and I remember why I don't like going there. However, that's another post entirely...

No, today's post is about my epiphany I had while at the mall.

I was sitting in the play-area watching KM play and I began taking notice of the other moms around me.

I deduced that there are three kinds of mommy styles.

1.) The Dress for Success Mom - This mom buys all of the latest clothing styles, her hair is perfectly styled, nails are professionally done, she carries a designer hand bag (including a fashionable diaper bag!) and her make-up is freshly applied. Her kids are an accessory to her. I'd venture to say that approximately 33% of mothers make up this catergory.

2.) The Original Mom - This mom is the original mother. She dresses neat and nice, but not always fashionable. She has a nice hairstyle, but it is often in a ponytail. She wears make-up, but it is worn off by the end of the day - she rarely reapplies it. Her shoes are comfortable, and at one time, were stylish. Her kids mirror her in style and fashion. 33% Yes?

3.) The Survival Mom - This mom is in survival mode 24/7. She dresses in comfortable, if not disposable, clothing. She has stylish hair, but wears it in a ponytail. If she wears make-up, it is very little and would never think of reapplying. Her shoes are athletic shoes... better to catch you with! Her kids sense her frazzled state and take advantage of it. Again, I'd say that approximately 33% of mothers make up this catergory.

(Disclaimer: 1% +/- margin of error)

These findings are based on my own conclusions and are not intended to harm. I just find it ironic how easy it was to classify mommy style.

Since I became a mom, I've come to the conclusion that my cool days are over. Not that I was ever really cool. But, I've stopped trying. Of course, that's not to say that I don't want to look nice, dress nice and appear as if I have it all together. Plus, my husband makes googly eyes at me and chases me around the house when I do. (But, truthfully... he chases me around the house and grabs my bottom all the time... but more so, when I look 'hot'.)

I'll never be the mom who spends a fortune on the newest styles. For one, my body, namely my boobs, will not allow for such. Plus, I don't know if you know or not, but my husband... he's the tightest... er, um... most frugal.... um, no... tightest man you will EVER meet. So, going out and spending $100.00 on a pair of jeans, no matter how great they look, will never go well over at this house.

And, I'll never be the survivalist mom because, well... because one of my kids is in school, therefore my life is easy again. But, truth be told, I was never a survivalist mom anyway. It's just not in my nature.

So, I'm happy to say that I'm an ORIGINAL mom. I'm average and proud of it. Now, if I could only get rid of this ponytail...

Blogging Photo Assignment

It's the first Blogging Photo Assignment of 2007!

Today's blogging photo assignment is all about closets! My closet is in need of an over-haul. But, I haven't the slightest idea where to start! I want to see your closet - the good, the bad and the ugly - so I (and maybe others) can glean from you, ideas on how to organize the closets!


Plus, it might just give you a good reason to clean it out - that is, for picture purposes, like I did. Even clean, my closet is still a messed up wreck.

This area would be great if the shelves were a little wider. I envisioned storage baskets, boxes, whatever... but, because the shelves are barely 15 inches deep... well, that pretty much rules out anything useful. So, this great space is virtually wasted.

Any thoughts?

This is the bulk of our clothes hanging space. Do you see the middle shelf right about the hanging bar? No? Me either... because you can't see it OR use it. Another shelf wasted. What were they thinking? Also, see how my clothes and Randy's clothes come together in the middle? It's awful because my clothes are shoved behind his clothes. I hate that.

This is my teeny-tiny area that I have to hang dresses and/or skirts. Notice it is shoved up against my IKEA shoe hanging thingy. That thing, has been wonderful for keeping the shoes off of the floor, but not very practical for actually being able to see your shoes. Plus, you have to position then in there just so, for them to actually fit in there. This product would not work for men's shoes either.

So, there you have it. My icky, yucky, cluttered and messed up closet! Now, let's see yours!

(This blogging photo assignment is open to anyone who wishes to participate!)

Saturday's Craft Project

I found some cute Raggedy Ann and Andy fabric in the clearance bin at Hobby Lobby. It was just the right length to make Elisan a cute apron.

Isn't the striped grostgrain ribbon a nice touch?

I think I'm going to give it to her for Valentine's Day... that is, right after I make KM one too.

Caught up

Over the summer, Randy and I began renting Fox's "24" on DVD, beginning with season 1. About 2 shows into the season, we were hooked. Thanks to Blockbuster.com, we did not go into the hole renting all of those DVD's. (Hint: Blockbuster.com is waaaay better than Netflix! You should check into that.)

And, now... after nearly 6 months of non-stop "24" action, we're caught up to the current season, having watched all five episodes of season 6. Thank goodness for TiVO.

Folks, just for the record, that's 125 episodes of "24". That translates into a lot of television. Approximately 56 hours and 25 minutes!

Oh, and speaking of TiVO... if you don't have it, get it. If you have it, then you need to check out TiVO To Go. It allows you to transfer your recorded shows to your computer and then burn them to DVD, if you have a DVD burner.

That's my public service announcement for today.

More pillow talk

I'm getting good (enough) at this!

Elisan and I trekked to the craft store yesterday and I let her pick out some fabric. This fabric was actually sold pre-packed, rather than on a bolt, so it was quite pricey... but, there's no denying, it's really cute. The green fabric on the back was from the remnant bin. The purple rick-rack is from L.A. It was in my Christmas Thrift Challenge package. I have enough material to make four more pillows.

Elisan again, thinks I'm the coolest. She even said, and I quote:

"Mom, it looks like someone bought it!" Wow... store bought quality, eh? (Yeah, right!)

Erica's Charro Beans

Today's Yummy Food! installment is my yummy Charro Beans. This is the anglo version of it, but it's still very yummy and super easy to make. We eat them as a side dish to fajita's, or as a meal with added meat.

Enjoy and 'ole!


ERICA'S CHARRO BEANS

2 - 16 ounce cans - Pinto Beans (drained and rinsed with water)
1/2 yellow onion diced
1 - 12 ounce can of Original (or Mild) Rotel Diced Tomatoes, drained
2 cubes chicken bouillion
4 cups of water
3-4 slices of (uncooked) bacon
Cumin (and/or 1/2 packet of taco seasoning) to taste.
Salt and pepper to taste.

Serve with:
Handful of chopped fresh cilantro
Grated cheddar cheese
Tortilla Chips

Directions:
Drain and rinse the pinto beans. In a medium to large pot, add 4 cups of water and all the ingredients into pot. Simmer on medium low (or low bubbly boil) for about 2 hours. Allow soup to reduce to half. Remove bacon before serving.

Garnish with chopped fresh cilantro (to taste), grated cheddar cheese and tortilla chips.

Optional ingredients: Cubed ham or choirzo (Mexican sausage)

Enjoy!

All in all, a good portion of the population is inherently good

Since I began my little on-line invitation business I had dealings with the public that directly affect me.

Oh sure, I've worked with the public before. I've worked in food service (Remember that place Amanda? Western Choice?). I was a claims adjuster for one of the fourth largest automobile insurance companies in the U.S. And I pretended to be a real estate agent for about 1.5 years before I realized that I'm not cut out for that kind of work. So, working in the public sector is not that foreign to me.

However, I've never really worked for myself... where I collect 100% of the profits. I must admit, I'm really enjoying my side venture and it's nice having a little extra money in my account. I'm not bank rolling cash hand over fist, but it's enough money to keep things interesting. So, I press along each day... serving my customers to the best of my ability.

I've had extremely good experiences dealing with the public. I've had referral business and repeat customers. It's so satisfying getting a glowing response from a customer when they receive their invitations.

In the course of a year, since I've been selling photo invitations, I can only recall three bad experiences. Unfortunately, two of them has occurred within the last month.

What I don't understand is how people can live with themselves when they've deliberately lied to me and/or stole from me. It's appalling and it just really disappoints me. I'm not disappointed at the loss of the transaction or the monetary value of it... I'm disappointed that people think they are getting away with something. Because, really, they aren't. I may be blond, but I'm not stupid...

I'm honest almost to the point of gullibility. I'm that girl in the in the check-out line at the craft store and who corrects the checkout girl when she counts out 5 pages of $.20 craft paper, instead of 6.

So, I set out to test my gullibility. I found The Gullibility Factor test to test my gullible nature.

Here are my results! Surprisingly, my score was 85.

I am a:

Free Thinker

Welcome to the top 5%. You're a true free thinker and a person who is well informed about the reality in which you live. Although you may have been easily manipulated earlier in life, you eventually gained lucidity and developed a healthy sense of skepticism that you now automatically apply to your observations and experiences. You are endlessly curious about human behavior and the nature of the universe, and you have one or more lifestyle habits that most people would consider odd or unusual. You are not only of very high intelligence, you are also extremely creative in one or more areas (music, art, software development, inventing, etc.)

If you were in The Matrix, you would have taken the red pill, completed the combat training, and started fighting (and beating) agents from day one.

So, there ya have it folks. I'm not gullible, at least according to Mike Adams, the Health Ranger, primary author at NewsTarget.com

What's your gullibility factor?

If momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy

Boy, isn't that the truth?

This past weekend, Randy worked (a.k.a. took shelter) in the garage to work on miscellaneous projects. The girls joined him.

Why? Because momma wasn't happy. Or, better put... momma has P.M.S.

I've noticed over the last year (or two, or three) that my mood has spiked up in a turmoil of frustration and stress over the smallest of things. I find myself nearly shaking in anger over nothing. Nothing. I'll repeat... nothing.

And the sad part about it, was that I didn't know why. I blamed it on the kids, or being overwhelmed with housework, or being a perfectionist, or trying to be Super Woman. Whatever. It didn't matter what the trigger, I just blamed it on something.

Until I kind of had... well, a light bulb moment... and realized that I suffer from P.M.S.

So, I'm officially joining the other 75% of women who suffer from P.M.S.

In celebration of my new found discovery, I decided to pay my OB/GYN a visit. I needed to discuss the course of treatment and plan of action for this reign of terror that now has overcome me nearly two weeks out of the month.

Here's how the conversation went:

Me, "I think I have P.M.S."
Doctor, "No, you don't say?"
Me, "Why yes... is there anything that I can do about it?"
Doctor, "Go through menopause."
Me, "Ah, yes. Well, that's not going to help me now."

So, we talked about several treatments that may or may not help me. The first was birth control pills. Nope to that! Randy has had the 'ol snip-snip, so I'm not interested in that.

Next!

The second option was taking calcium supplements. Apparently, some women have reduced P.M.S. symptoms by taking calcium supplements. The only side affect? Constipation.

Next!

The third option was taking Zoloft. I'll admit, I'm not a chemical kind of gal, so I opted out of that one. But, I'm keeping the idea in my back pocket just in case things get really bad.

Lucky for me (hint of sarcasm, there folks!)... the doctor said the symptoms would only get increasingly worse as I aged. Yippee!

So, there ya have it... a peek into my personal medical health. I'm so glad that I could provide solid medical facts about P.M.S.

I just hope that I've helped the 75% of women out there who suffer, as I do.

Pass the laxatives, please.

A new craft to devote a 1/4 of my time to!

Necessity has required me to purchase a sewing machine.

Or, let me re-phrase...the desire to learn how to sew necessitated the need for a machine. So last week, I bought a re-conditioned Brother sewing machine from eBay. It's true... "Whatever it is, you can get it on eBay."

In preparation for it's arrival, I purchased remnant fabric from Hobby Lobby. I even printed off an easy pattern for a Wee Bunny from Hilary Lang's popular Wee Wonderfuls blog.

My machine arrived on Friday and after dinner, Randy and I sat down and figured out the logistics of it. Randy was pretty knowledgeable in sewing machines since his mother taught him how to sew as a young boy. Shhhhh...that's TOP SECRET, by the way!

So, today I set out to make the Wee Bunny. Ummm, let's just say that Wee Bunny was a wee bit too hard for someone who has never used a sewing machine in her life. Who woulda thought that the ultra cute Wee Bunny would be so hard to sew.

Anyway, so I opted to make a pillow instead. Straight lines ROCK!

Here's how it turned out.





No, it's not perfect and if you click on the images, you'll see that for yourself, but ya know what? I'm as proud as ever! And Elisan thinks I'm the coolest mom ever now!

All that and a bag of chips... or three... and a can...

I got my chips!

Would you like some ice with that?

The BIG STORY across the nation is that Texas is getting a whallop of a winter storm. I'm here to say, that yes, 'tis true.

And I'm also here to say, that we've been cooped up in this house for the last three and a half days and it ain't pretty.

Oh, sure, we've got plenty of food thanks to my over-zealous grocery shopping that I do on a weekly basis of non-essential food items. Cookies...check! Soda...check! Icecream...check! Hot chocolate...check! (Although, I ran out of marshmallows two nights ago!)

However, we are rationing the chips, orange juice and bread. Maybe we'll get one last serving today at lunch, but that's it people. Oh, the horror! (Is that my new favorite line?)

I know there are those out there that are sayin', well, get out and buy some provisions woman! But, no! You don't understand. Texan's cannot drive in cold weather. Ice or no ice... we cannot drive in cold temps. So, as you can imagine, everything has come to a screeching halt, because of the ice factor. We have a "wintery mix" of sleet, freezing rain and snow which equals chaos! Sheer chaos, people!

So, alas... school is out... there are no chips in sight... and Randy is at work. Because, "me man! me drive on ice."

Stay warm and have some chips for me.

-gasp-

Randy gave me a disk today that had this picture on it.
It was taken at the company picnic way back in October.

As soon as I opened the file, I gasped.

My heart jumped immediately, because I fell in love
with this picture. It captures my husband perfectly.
More so than any other picture I've seen of him.

He's happy, relaxed and the sun has
kissed his cheeks ever so lightly.

I'm a lucky gal, aren't I?

The Blessing

This is today's breakfast blessing, as told by Kyla Mae:

Kyla, "Dear Jesus. I pee-peed in my bed. Mommy wipe it. I got new undies. Amen."

Mommy whispering, "and thank you for the food..."

Kyla, "And thank you for the food! Amen!"



Mommy and daddy barely able to control laughter....

As if I needed another reason...

...to love H.E.B.

Okay, y'all, I post stuff about H.E.B. because it is probably my favorite store, bar none. I love it, (I think) more than Target and maybe even IKEA.

You gasp, "What?"

Yes, it's true. I do.

Another reason why I love H.E.B. so much is because of their bulk food aisle bins.

I'll admit it, I've never even looked in the direction of the bulk food bins because, well... to be honest, I've always thought it was for healthy eaters. Stuff like wheat germ, flax seed, kamut, quinoa, etc. Also, I noticed the whole wheat pastas which in my book, means stay far far away!

But, what brought me to the bulk food/organic aisle was the whole bean coffee. My love for good coffee has expanded over the last year, which now requires me to buy fresh whole beans. So, I had to step out of my little box and venture to the bulk food aisle. Oh, the horror!

Anyway, I was pleasantly surprised once I arrived. There is not only that health food stuff, but there is a wide variety of nuts, snack mixes, dried fruits and cereals. But, the real reason why I'm writing about this aisle is none other than the bulk dried spices/herbs found in glass jars on the far end of the aisle.

There's about 40 dried herbs and spices found in that section and I was (and still am) in heaven every time I use it.

Not only that, but the cost is phenomenal.

Yes, $.42 cents for a package of mulling spice. It even has directions on how to use it on the label. It smells wonderful and tastes wonderful.

If you click on the picture you can see that I spent a whopping $.09 cents on dried parsley and allspice. That sure beats buying it commerically packed and paying $3.00-$4.00 a jar.


That's whole peppercorns with about two tablespoons of red and white peppercorns mixed in for variety. I love fresh cracked pepper on just about anything.

I guess I love it because I can buy the spice/herb I need without buying an entire container, only to have it sit in my cupboard for years and years without using it. Plus, this stuff is fresh and has a great taste.

Oh, by the way, those little spice/herb jars are from IKEA. 4 pk for $2.99. I love 'em.

Later,

Quiet Time

Elisan and I have a secret that no one else knows about.

Early in the morning, before the rush, Elisan sneaks downstairs to find me.

I'm usually sitting on the sofa reading a devotional or praying and she crawls into my lap and we have quiet time together. Just us. No one else. No distractions.

She tells me about her silly nighttime dreams or how life will be when she is all grown up. All of this...while she's snuggled up in my lap, with her head on my shoulder.

The smell of her little girl breath and her hair is something I want to remember forever. The warmth of her body, the calmness of her spirit, the sleepy yawns... memories forever.

Perhaps there will come a day when sleeping late will be more important to her than having quiet time with me. But, who knows. Maybe, just maybe, our quiet time will be what keeps us together forever.

In the spirit of organization...

My friend L.A. thought I should continue the organization trend and post pictures of my new organized computer space!

Again, my wonderful husband came to my clutter rescue and together we came up with a solution to my overcrowded kitchen counter/computer workspace! (You rock hun!)

Here is the before picture. As you can see, I have my printer and computer tower on the counter top. I also have my vertical files on the counter too. This was an 'okay' set-up, but hey... a girl has to cook and I had very little prep space next to my stove-top, which was about a 2 feet from the printer!




This is the after pictures. Here's what Randy did. He drilled a 2 3/4 hole into my countertop. (Yes, I was a bit worried there for a second, because the reality is, that if you mess up the formica, well... you're just pretty much done!) Anyway... so, he did a great job and then added one of those desk/cord thingys. Then, he ran all the cords down to the lower cabinet area, where he then installed my computer and printer. It's all neat and tidy down there and my countertop is work-friendly again! I moved my vertical files into my newly organized craft room.






You so totally rock, Randy! Love you long time!

Get Organized!

Some of my Christmas money was spent buying shelving for my craft room a.k.a. spare bedroom.

I have been using this room for almost a year for crafting, etc. and all of my stuff was crammed into the plastic drawer thingys that take up entirely too much room. In effort to keep my table top clear, so I could have a work space, I was forced to stuff everything underneathe the table. I barely had room for my legs, it was getting so bad.

Another thing that bugged me, was that the girls were able to easily access my stuff, which was not always a good thing.




And those pictures are telling a supreme lie, because my workspace was NEVER that clean. In fact, you could hardly see the desktop due to unfinished projects and/or leftovers from finished projects. It was a craft room explosion!

So, I decided it was time for shelves. Randy installed shelves over the weekend and that left me with the daunting task of organizing my stuff.

Here's the outcome. And while I'm not 100% satisfied with my organization, I'm 100% thrilled with my new shelves! Just look at all of that space! And look, there isn't anythiing on the floor, either. And I promise, my craft stuff did not multiple overnight. All of that stuff was in those plastic drawers and/or on the floor!


I love my new set-up. I'm sure creativity will just begin to oooze from my pores now.

Wait... it's 2007?

I'm having a hard time accepting the fact that it's 2007. It's even hard to type.

But enough of that.

I'm just so glad that it's normal again. Well, as normal as can be expected. I will say, though, that it was hard rolling out of bed yesterday to bring Elisan to school. But, it had to be done and as much as I enjoyed having her home for the Christmas break, I was happy to send her back to school. But, don't call me a bad mother, because she was just as ready to go back to school as I was ready to send her back. KM missed her though... and that was kind of sad.

Yesterday was spent with trash bag in hand throwing away the stock-pile of stash that Elisan squirrels away in every corner of the house. I can see a future of futile fighting, as I'm a tosser and she's a keeper. She must get that from her dad, because believe it or not, Randy is a keeper too. I've already noticed that KM is a tosser, like me. And, so along with trashing, I put together a nice donation for our local Goodwill store. (I love Goodwill!)

This past weekend, Randy and I trekked out to the home improvement store to buy my Christmas present! A NEW DOOR! Only, when we got there I was appalled at the prices of new doors. I'm not talking fancy solid wood doors with wrought iron scrolls in the glass panes either. I'm talking plain 'ol fiberglass doors with a window! Ummm...we're not getting a door any time soon because I have a list of stuff I want to do to the house and getting a new door is about 5th on that list. I'd much rather put that money towards... say,... new flooring, etc. Of course, Randy is probably saying to himself, a dollar dodged is a dollar saved. But, not me... I'll squirrel this away to myself and remind him later on about the time when we didn't get a new door, so we could one day have money to install new floors. We'll see how that pans out for me. My gut is tellin' me that I'm a sucker, but who knows...

Meanwhile, apparently Randy, KM and I have all picked up a tummy bug that is keeping us close to home. Well, "us" meaning KM and me. Yay. Gotta love that.

Well, that's all for now. I'll be around...



P.S. - Don't look for any New Year's Resolutions from me. I hate disappointment.