Valentine's Day baking with Love

This morning I baked Red Velvet Milky Way Cake Cookies with the boys.  The kids had a blast, and I only ended up with a bruised knuckle.

First, I had to cut the Dark Chocolate Milky Way candies for the cookies.  Jackson generously offered to use the knife so I wouldn't have to.  I graciously turned him down since a three year old wielding a knife just screams emergency room.  After cutting the Dark Chocolate Milky Way candy, I proceeded to start making the cookies.

Cullen poured the cake mix into the mixer.  Jackson dropped the butter in (after licking the top of the stick), and I dealt with the egg.  Each boy got a turn with the vegetable oil since I needed two tablespoons.  The mixer started mixing and Jackson started screaming, "Gross Mommy! That's yucky!"

"Wait until it's finished before you judge how it looks," I said knowing full well he'll gobble the cookies up after they baked.

I turned the mixer out and grabbed my spatula to scrape the sides of the bowl.  As I was scraping, Cullen decided it would be a great idea to turn the mixer back on the highest speed.  Since my hand was right there, I got whacked with a metal mixer going at the speed of light.  Hence, the bruised knuckle.

After adding the Milky Ways and chocolate chips (because we were aiming for super unhealthy yet yummy cookies), I was letting the mixer do its thing.  Jackson decided to try and lick the spatula, and Cullen tried to stick his hand in the mixer.  I obviously I didn't have enough going on.

As I was scooping out the batter onto the baking sheets, Cullen kept sticking his hand into the mixer, grabbing batter, and shoving it into his mouth.  No matter how fast I thought I was, he somehow always beat me to the punch.  He'll be keeping his immune system in check with all the raw egg he ate.  If it didn't kill me by now (I am a notorious batter eater as is Andrew), I'm sure he'll survive.

 Of course after baking and cooling the cookies, they had to be tasted.  They were a hit!

Happy Valentine's Day from our family to yours!

That's only slightly embarrassing

Nothing like a good sweat to make all your worries go away.

I worked out Sunday afternoon.  I did 30 minutes on the Stairmaster and by the end was sweating profusely.  I had sweat dripping down my temples, the tip of my nose, and dripping off my chin.  I kept trying to mop it up with my towel, but I couldn't keep up with it.  After my thirty minutes, I hit the stop button.  The machine stopped much more abruptly than I anticipated, and I almost fell flat on my ass.  Luckily, I still had a hand on the handbars so I didn't tumble three feet down to the floor.  Although, the guy stepping next to me looked at me as though I was drunk.  Yes, I didn't anticipate the immediate stop, so I lost my balance.  Oh well.

Anyway, I cleaned off my machine and walked over to the dumbbell area to lift.  I'm standing in front of the mirrors performing an upright row when something catches my attention.  What caught my attention so much that I'm writing on my blog about it you ask?  Crotch sweat.  Yes, I had a serious patch of crotch sweat on my pants!  I was sweating so much (every where on my body apparently) that I had a soul patch of crotch sweat.  I didn't even bother to turn around to see if I had ass sweat to match it.  I figured in this case ignorance is bliss.  Luckily, I was wearing only slightly faded black workout pants.  It wasn't immediately visible, but I saw it.  Since there was nothing I could do about it but let it dry, I finished my workout.

It was only slightly embarrassing.  I've had worse.

You have a dirty mind, Emily.

As we were walking to church last night for Mass, I was holding Cullen's hand, Andrew was carrying Sawyer, and Jackson was trailing along beside us.

"Look, she has boobs!" Jackson says quite loudly.

"Shh... don't say that Jackson," I said.

"But I said she, and she has boobs, Mom," Jackson says at the same decibel level with exasperation. (I've been working with him to use the correct pronoun for females beacuse everyone has been a he lately.)

"Jackson, you don't say that kind of thing," I'm whispering through clenched teeth while doing my best not to laugh.  As you know if your child sees you laughing, he'll just continue to do it because you're laughing.

Jackson's reply this time was more of a grunt/ugh sound as I open the door and walk into church.  He was looking at me like I had gone crazy.  Well, my son just shouted to everyone a girl has boobs.  I'm allowed to look a little crazy.

After we get settled into our seats and the boys situated, I whisper to Andrew, "I guess our son's going to be a breast man like his brother."  Cullen's been pulling my shirt out to look down it every time I pick him up.  He likes to see what's down there because he always has a big smile on his face  while I'm swatting his hand away.  Cullen always seems to do this in public, church especially.

Andrew looks at me with a puzzled face, "Why do you say that?"

"Because he shouted, 'She has boobs!' outside," I say.

"Emily, he said boots.  She has boots just like you are wearing.  The mom was wearing cowboy boots, and the daughters were wearing Uggs.  You have a dirty mind, Emily," he says while trying not to laugh at me.

So yes, my mind went straight to boobs instead of boots.  Can you blame me?  I mean they do sound alike, and I wasn't the only person to hear it.  We were surrounded by people walking into church who were laughing and smirking because they heard the same thing I did.  I did not go into the gutter alone!  Others were with me!  I swear!

Plans Going Awry

Lately, I've been finding humor in all of the craziness that is my life.  And granted, it is funny when your children create such random acts of havoc.  However every now and then, I would like for something to go as planned.

I have had to rearrange my entire week because some maintenance guys cannot get their act together.  They were supposed to come on Monday to fix my floors.  They didn't show up during the time window I was given.  I was irritated and called to find out what was going on.  I was told they would be here in the afternoon instead.  Now I was more irritated and had to rearrange my day again.  Then, an hour later I was called and told they couldn't make it at all today.  I got this whole spiel of apology and was rescheduled for Thursday.  Thursday morning comes and Andrew calls to find out what time they will be here.  Well, we didn't get put on the schedule for Thursday and there was no way to fit us in.  Now, I was livid.  Granted, Andrew let the guy have a piece of his mind, but I had already rearranged everything to ensure I would be home.  Pissed did not even come close to what I was feeling.  Now, we are scheduled for this Monday again.  And I swear to god if they do not come within the window of time they gave, I will go ninja on their asses!

I decide to go print off some forms I have to drop off at our church for Sawyer's Baptism since the floor guys aren't coming.  As I'm printing them, I find out our printer is out of ink.  Needless to say, I about lost my shit.  After the whole floor people thing, I just wanted something to go right.  I have to haul all the kids over to Office Depot to get ink cartridges.  And the guy at Office Depot kept giving me a look when I bring my three kids into the store.  I gave him the evil eye because I was not in the mood to put up with anyone else.  I finally got the ink cartridges, trudged everyone home, printed out the forms, and dropped them off at church.

Late afternoon, I get a call from our church about Sawyer's Baptism. All the paperwork was squared away except they didn't have Andrew down as taking the class with me. I just about went bitch on the poor guy's ass who called me. I had to explain to him Andrew took the class but was a few minutes late because the diaper bag (which was holding all of Sawyer's paperwork and his bottle) was left at the house. Andrew had to go back home to get the diaper bag. He didn't seem to believe me, but I think I was bitchy enough to him that he finally relented. So, I finally have Sawyer's Baptism scheduled.  Check that box off.

This morning, I was supposed to have my haircut.  I received a text from my stylist at 7:50am saying she's sick with a sinus infection and needs to reschedule.  With reluctance, I text her back saying it's okay because everyone gets sick.  It just happens to be she gets sick on this appointment during the already shitty ass week I'm having.  Now I need to reschedule again.

Can nothing go right?  I feel like the universe is just having a laugh at my expense this week.

So can someone humor me and not reschedule or mess up my week next week.  I would greatly appreciate it if kids would behave and plans would go smoothly.

Do NOT repeat what I just said

Why is it when I say certain things around my children, they always pick up on the one or two words they should have known not to hear.  It's like my kids have bad word radar in their ears or word-dar as I have so thoughtfully dubbed it.  I can be having a normal conversation with Andrew while they are completely ignoring us.  As soon as I say something they shouldn't hear, their ears perk up and mouths repeat.  It's like having a damn parrot in the room at all times.

I was driving the boys to go pick up Andrew at work one day.  We were having a pleasant car ride, singing songs, and not arguing.  I caught a red light and braked when I hear a voice in the back say, "God Damn It!"  My sentiments exactly, but I never voiced them.  Instead, I turned around and proceed to say those were adult words, and you are not an adult.  All the while trying not to bust a gut laughing because those words coming out of a toddler's mouth are hysterical.  Especially when used correctly.

Just last night, Andrew and I were talking while I was feeding Sawyer.  I was speaking figuratively of something I was going to 'kill' when Jackson yells from the kitchen table, "Don't say that word.  You're not allowed to say the killing word."  I got scolded by my 3 year old!  See he had been playing and telling Cullen, "I'm going to kill you," then proceeding to shoot him with the Lego gun he made.  I have no idea where he learned to connect those dots.  Regardless, I didn't want him saying kill or killing.  Jackson was told not say kill, but he could say "I'm going to get you."  So after many reminders, he finally caught on.  Now apparently, no one is allowed to say it.  I was reminded as much last night.  He hears that, yet when I tell him to clean up or pick up his little ears just happen not to hear me.  Hmm....

Why oh why do my children feel the need to repeat everything I say?  It's not even bad most of the time, but common sayings they start saying out of context.  Jackson will say, "It's not your problem."  He doesn't even use it correctly most of the time, so I'm left wondering what the hell just happened.  Now he started saying everything will be happening 'next week.'  The boy has zero concept of time, but everything is next week.

The other day Jackson brought me a book from one of our upstairs shelves.  I see the book and ask, "Where did you get this shitty book?"  The question is out of my mouth before I even realize what I just said.  It was an impulse and compulsion at the same time.  I couldn't avoid it.  I swear!  Of course, Jackson makes his O face because he knows I just said a bad word.  I immediately follow that up with, "Don't repeat that."  I'm not perfect.  Some things are more instinctive to me especially when something hits a deep seeded nerve of mine.

My parrots are teaching me to clean up my sailor mouth when they are around.  I've gotten much better, but when I'm with adults, I normally just revert back to me.  You gotta love me for me!  My husband does with a smile!

Friday Night Dog Fight

Whew! It was a long week last week. With the kids finally getting better, Andrew and I were extremely thankful for the weekend to get here.

Friday night, Andrew was grilling hot dogs while I was getting the rest of dinner ready. The boys were playing in the backyard together and not fighting too much. It was semi-nice.

After finally getting the kids down for the night, we decide to relax and rent a movie.  We crawl into our bedroom, climb onto the bed, and settle in to enjoy.

About 30 minutes into our zoning out, all the sudden, the dogs are ferociously fighting each other.  We hear snarling, snapping, growling, and generally pissed off noises coming from both of our cocker spaniels.  Andrew and I look at each other with the same expression on our faces 'what the hell is going on?'

I hop off the bed to find the dogs fighting over by our laundry hamper.  Yes, my two sweet dogs are fighting each other.  Granted, there was no blood or gore, but they are going at in pretty ferociously and with purpose.  I had a split second of doubt about putting my hands any where near them because I honestly wasn't sure if one would snap at me.  But with the amount of noise they were making, I was afraid they might actually wake up the kids.  And I would have been one pissed off Mom if they would have woken up my children.  Someone might have been bodily harmed if my two idiotic fighting dogs would have woken up the kids.

With screaming woken up children in mind, I dove into the fight, grabbed each dog by the scruff of their neck and hauled their asses apart.  Mea started walking away knowing I was pissed off and not wanting to be on my radar any longer, but Thibie apparently did not get the memo.  She started going after Mea again, so I picked her up by the scruff of her neck again and threw her in Andrew's general direction to take care of.  Each dog was sent into her respective crate for a time out, and my kids were still asleep.  And just to make this clear, the brawl happened on my side of the bed, so I was the first one their to take care of it.  Andrew totalled would have dived in first if it was on his side.  I just happened to be the lucky one.

After dismantling the brawl in our bedroom, Andrew went over to the hamper to find out what started this mess.  What did he find that started the Dog Brawl of 2013?  A dirty pair of panties.  Yes people, my dogs were fighting over who could lick a dirty pair of panties.  Our hamper was over flowing, and some clothes had fallen to the floor in front of it.  The dogs dug through it until they found it.

If you dont' have dogs, let me clue you in.  They are really gross sometimes.  This is not the first time I have found a dog doing this, but it is the first time our dogs have fought over it.  They usually fight over food or a dog bone.

My dogs got into a brawl over dirty laundry.  How weird is my life when this happens?  After Andrew discovered the source, I couldn't help but collapse on the bed in laughter.

How did you spend your Friday night?  Well, I broke up the Dog Brawl of 2013 over a pair of dirty panties.  How was yours?

What the Hell was I thinking?

Seriously!  What the hell was I thinking having children?  Andrew and I must have both been drunk the day we decided to have kids.  And then two more!  Of course, it could have been my mother pointing out while yelling to a room full of people at my Granny's funeral back in 2004 how she doesn't know the love of grandkids since she didn't have any. (It was an awesome funeral by the way.  Top notch among funerals.  One day I might write about the awesomeness of Granny's funeral.  My family definitely puts the fun in funeral.)

My kids are lucky most days I don't lock them up in closets or in the backyard when I start feeling that manic feeling of 'I will kill the next child who screams Mommy!'  Seriously, a person can only put up with so much screaming, crying, yelling and tattle telling before your nerves are on edge.

It's not like I'll win the parenting of the year award.  Especially when you find out your preschooler yelled, "Crap!" at school when he dropped something.  Well, it could have been worse.  On a good note, he at least used it correctly.  See, I teach proper grammar!

Anyway, the moms who say mothering is such a breeze never had my children.  Either that or they are not around their kids nearly as much as I am.  The phrase 'It takes a village' didn't lie.  I would love for a village to give me a break.  It's not easy.  I give serious props to single parents.  When Andrew takes business trips, I usually am counting down the days until he comes home, and I can escape with a girlfriend and get away from my offspring.  And I use offspring as a word that is the farthest away from 'my child' because at that point, they are just offspring to be fed and watered.

In all of the horrific parenting moments I have had, it all seems worth it when the small happy moments happen.  When my boys run up to hug me or proudly show me a picture they colored, I can't help but smile.  How many people are going to compliment you while you are wearing your robe, doing your hair and putting on your make up by saying, "Your dress is really pretty" or "Wow Mommy you look good."  Yes, I will unashamedly say I need the ego boost of the compliments of my three year old.  No lie.  I will suck it up like a sponge.

While I can blame alcohol or guilt for having kids, I have little pieces of me running around enlightening the world about Mom's special sayings and adult words.  I'm glad I can pass that sailor gene onto someone (you should be proud dad!).  I can laugh when my 2 year old gets upset at us for not sharing our margaritas with him.  Seriously, he starts crying when Andrew and I say no.

Parenting has its moments of horror and moments of happiness.  One day they will either even out or slide more to the happy side.  Until then, I will enjoy to the small moments of bliss I get when asked for help or when they behave in public  It's either laugh or cry, baby.  I'd rather laugh.