Crack

I have a little bit of an addiction problem.

There. I said it.

Don't judge me for it.

Some of you may remember the post that I wrote over a year ago to my new love Pine-Sol and how I had just discovered the powers of it to my advantage. I loved how clean it made my house smell......how I could fool just about anyone into thinking that my house was immaculately clean just by having a sink full of this stuff marinating all day long! (That's right people....I said marinating......sitting in my sink all day long.....getting cold until I ran more warm water in it to bring back that smell. I know it's sick. I never said it was normal......But addicts will often do abnormal things....It's true.)

Well......since them the problem has deepened. The addiction has grabbed a hold on me and won't let go. I MUST have that "powerful scent of clean" on a daily basis or I WILL GO CRAZY. I will go into withdrawals, get the shakes, get sick to my stomach and all that jazz. I NEED the pine-sol. Just give me the pine-sol and no one gets hurt. It has gotten out of hand.....

It has become "my crack."

Well......fed up of buying tiny bottle after tiny bottle and constantly running out and having to make emergency runs to my "dealer" (aka Wal-Mart......that crack ho) I stumbled across the Holy Grail of disinfectants........at my new BFF (and new dealer......take that Wal-mart) COSTCO. Because really? Everyone needs a jug of pine-sol that is larger than a small child. Everyone.

So seriously.....don't judge. I know I have a problem. I know that I buy Pine-sol in mass quantities. I know that your average housewife is most likely not stocking up on Pine-Sol at a Warehouse.....but I am not your average housewife, people......I am DESPERATE! And I need my crack.....er.....Pine-Sol. So just give me the Pine-Sol and NO ONE gets hurt.

Does anyone know of a 12-Step program for Pine-Sol addicts?

Child Abuse

Once, many years back, me my siblings were looking at pictures from "back in the day" when we were wee little kids. My brother John, being the funny person that he is, commented to my Mom that the way she used to dress us could be considered a form of child abuse. At the time my Mom just laughed it off.....it was FUNNY. And really? Who dresses their kids like that anyway? Plaids and Polyesters and short shorts. It is only now, that I have little wee ones of my own, that I am realizing that my Mom most likely didn't dress us at all. I mean, just because you have cute kids, and you buy them 100's of dollars worth of really cute and stylish clothes, doesn't mean they're going to wear them. Who are we kidding? Most days, the kids dress themselves. And most days? It's not pretty. Case in point:

This is how my kids went to the grocery store today.

At first glance: Not so bad. Just a slight kool-aid moustache and crusted boogies under the nose.

Wait a minute. Are those the basketball shorts that B wore yesterday? And paired with a non-matching basketball shirt that we got in the mail today? Sweet Mother of Mary.

Yep. This boy looks pretty stylin'...... And pretty WT.

Oh look. A cute new hoodie from Old Navy on a cute little girl.

What the???? Is this for real?. Hearts, paired with polka dots, paired with cowboy boots? Whose child is this and where is her Mother?

And you wanna know the sad thing? Everything that Savy is wearing is brand new. Hence her deep desire to wear everything at once. If you took the hoodie off you would see a pink and white striped shirt. It's quite the ensemble.

So there it is. You be the judge? Abuse or not? I think I'll opt for the "Mom -who -picks -her -battles- and -decided -that- this- was- one -battle -that -was- not- worth- fighting" option.

But seriously? Can you believe I took them to the store like that? That's just messed up.

Shameless self-promotion

Hiya peeps,

I started a new blog....so if you have some time check it out and drop me a line and let me know what you think.

Thanks tons, turkey buns.

Florrie

http://365daysofthegoodthebadtheugly.blogspot.com/

Son.....today you are a man.

Well.....yesterday I took all FOUR kids to the dreaded hair cut appointment. It was a joy, let me tell ya. And apparently, someones MOTHER did not wash their son's face beforehand. Who could that be? Oh....I know. Maybe it was the MOM who has had four kids BY HERSELF all week and is slowly starting to shut down. Face washing, schmase washing.....that's what I always say. So as they continued to cut Braden's hair, and more and more fell down on his face and stuck there....I had to grab my camera to document this priceless photo.

Is it just me....or does my 2 year old look like he's got a five o'clock shadow??

Want to know the real irony? Before I took him to get his haircut, Lewis tried to talk me into getting it buzzed. But I protested. He's just too young. He'd look too old. Um yeah. Not quite as old as a two year old with some sweet facial hair. Gotta love it!

Idaho. No wait....you da hoe. No.....you da man!

Redemption.


That's what this post is about. You might remember a couple of months ago I posted this as a tribute to my dear husband and his awesome accomplishment. Well, what you don't know is that shortly after the fact, my dear old brother-in-law, (who you can partially see in the picture) told me that I had cut him "real deep" when I failed to mention his awesome accomplishment as well. (Well, that and the obvious fact that I had to do some serious cropping to edit him out of the photo.) So, after I asked him why he was pms'ing and if he needed to borrow a little gyne lotrimin or a tampon, I decided to write this little post to redeem myself as the favored sister-in-law.....(and don't you forget it!)

This past weekend the fam loaded in the car to take a nice little jaunt to Idaho. Besides the fact that I LOVE me some potatoes.....there really isn't much to see in Idaho. But, we were there as the support team for my most awesomest brother-in-law Todd who competed in his very first (but definitely not last....I'm sure) HALF IRON MAN! People, people, people.....I am not a triathlete by any means. In fact, I'm pretty sure that I won't be in my lifetime, but do you realize what a half iron man is? Well, let me break it down for you.

Swim: 1.2 miles
Bike: 56 miles

Run 13.1 miles

(And holy shiester......If that doesn't make you want to vomit.....then I don't know what does.)

Now, I'm not gonna lie. We stood outside in the pouring rain for hours waiting for him to finish. And again.....not gonna lie when I say I'm pretty sure that I had a little tear in my eye when he crossed the finish line. It was worth every second of torturous, hellish, wet rain....with four kids, mind you.....and I'd do it all over again. (And I say this in all honesty because I'm 100% sure that we'll be in Boise again next year so that Lewis can say he did it too.) Somehow, I will never forget how Todd ran beside me for those last few miles of the St. George marathon....just when I thought I wanted to die.....and gave me the encouragement I needed to finish the dang thing! So there, Todd. Oops....I mean Mr. Iron man. This post is for you. Congrats on your major accomplishment, although, I just have one more thing to say. Since you only finished a HALF iron man, does this only make you half a man? Ponder on that for awhile.

And just in case this post bored you to tears....and also, just in case you were wondering if all family functions are all about Todd ( Jeesh Todd.....get over yourself. Everything is not about you.) We did some other things in Boise that were noteworthy as well.

We went to the Zoo. And by dang if it wasn't one of the better zoos we've been too. In fact, it kinda kicked Hogle Zoo's butt. What it lacked in size ( it really was quite compact) it made up for in animal activity! I will swear to my dying day that Hogle Zoo sedates its animals. Every time I go there I end up never seeing any animals or pointing out sleeping animals to my children. Well....this zoo was a hoppin'. The penguins were swimming, the lion was pacing, the bobcat was licking it's chops and eying my kiddos down, and the monkeys were swinging around like it was no body's business. ( And all would be amiss if I also didn't mention that one of the monkeys flipped my mother-in-law off.....I am crappin' you not! You can even ask her.) A fine day was had by all until a torrential downpour rolled on in and we made a hasty exit from the zoo into our cars.






Also.....seriously....have you ever seen a cuter picture than this one? We told Braden and his cousin, Claire, to pose together and wouldn't you know it....it looks just like an engagement picture. Funniest. Dang. Thing. Ever. Have you ever seen such stunning children in your life?

Also, just in case I didn't mention it......it rained. A lot. A literal downpour of soaking wetness. These pictures don't do it justice as to just how wet we all were. But we had a ball cheering Todd on, and I just have to say, again......Todd, you may just have the best family in the world. That's for dang sure!

So there you have it. Again, my dearest brother-in-law, congrats on the incredible feat of strength that you just pulled off. You are my hero and the second coolest person I know.

Love ya.

Hello Summer.....

Long time, no see. We've missed you.

Can't wait to play with you for the next three months. Let's be BFF's, okay?

Zachary and Kylie on the LAST day of school. Can't you just see the excitement in their faces....oh wait.....that's just the sun. My bad.

Two Wheelin' it!

I had a dream.....a dream that one day, all my children, no matter what age, would learn to ride a bike...... No seriously, I did have this dream. Way back in the day before I actually birthed my children I had this preconceived notion about what it would be like to be a Mom. I would play with my kids and read them books all day long. I would have hot cookies waiting for them when they got home from school. I would take walks around the block with them every day and point out all the interesting things along the way. I would teach them to ride a bike. The proper way. By holding on to the back of their little seat and running along side them until they yelled "Let go Mom...." and I would let go and off they would fly.

This is NOT what happened. What happened is this: Savannah hopped on a bike (our neighbor's bike by the by) and just took off. No warning. No teaching. Just doing. (That independent little bugger.) She was riding like a pro.....with no help or warning whatsoever. And now her life has changed.....because riding a bike without training wheels is just SO MUCH cooler than riding a bike with training wheels....DUH! Doesn't everybody know this?






A few things I love about this video. First, see that cute little blond boy skipping beside her? That's her best friend/boyfriend/neighbor/whipping boy....Wyatt. His brother's bike is the one Savy is riding. She says she is going to marry him one day. I say watch out Wyatt.....she's kind of a bossy britches! Second, I love how Savy says to Lewis, "Dad....let go....."and then she turns back around and Lewis is no where to be found. Who needs parents to help anyway? Not my gal, Sav.

And not even two days later.....she was like a professional bike rider! I'm not kidding. Have you ever seen a four year old stand up when they're riding their bike? Such ease....such grace...for the moment anyway. Good thing the first fall has already happened.

**Disclaimer** I KNOW....she is not wearing a helmet in either of these videos. I know you're probably wondering what kind of Mom let's their daughter ride around in her nightgown and flip flops....Well just shush....I will MAKE her wear a helmet from now on. In fact, if I could wrap her in bubble wrap and duct tape her I would. (She definitely is my accident prone one.) Also, the second video was taken at 8:30 in the morning, so a nightgown would be an obvious choice of attire. And flip flops? Well, they're the summer footwear staple....of course! I'm pretty sure I'm not going to get her to wear tennis shoes any time soon.

26.2

It was grueling. It was hard. It was physically AND mentally exhausting. I was sick. I threw up....... A lot. I was NOT at the top of my game. I did not get the time I was {hoping} for. I am sore. I can barely walk. All I want to do is lay in my bed all day and eat all the food I deprived myself of for so long. I have already lost one toenail. I'm sure about three more are to follow. I NEVER want to do another one. (At least that's what I'm telling myself for now.) But when I look at this picture......




.....I know that all my hard work was worth it.( I hope my kids will remember that their dear old Mom ran a marathon or two back in the day. )




And to my dear friend Kaci. Thanks for all the training. The laughs. The wetting in the pants....literally. The big Macs after long runs and the diet cokes and donuts. Thanks for making me run the damn thing because I never, EVER will forget it. I love you tons....and let's not do another one anytime soon, okay?

Bling

Remember when you were a wee little child and you received a new pair of tennis shoes you were absolutely, without a doubt, CONVINCED that they made you run faster? Remember how you would put them on and cruise around the neighborhood and yard just like Forrest Gump? Remember how you thought that no one in the entire world was as fast as you? Well, since I'm spoiled (hey, I'll be the first to admit it) and I wanted somethin' kinda pricey for my Mother's Day present......and I didn't want to actually wait until Mother's Day to get it......my husband gave me the go-ahead to order this little beauty:

For those of you who are nonthewiser.....this here little gem is the so-called BLING of the runner's world.....a Garmin Forerunner 305. This little beauty does practically everything that a runner wants it to do, with the exception of actually running for you. It tells you your pace, your time, how many miles you've gone, how many calories you've burned.....you name it. And it has become, in a sense, my "brand new shoes." I can strap this baby one, go for a run, and feel faster. (This is mainly due to the fact that it beeps every time I go below a certain pace as if to tell me : "Get your fat butt moving.....you slow poke." But hey, who's complaining.) I am in love with it and know without a doubt that I could give old Forrest a run for his money......but really, who's bragging? Oh wait.....that's me.

Oh, and as a double whammy.....and because again, let me reiterate, I'M SPOILED....my husband also let me buy these.....

Oh, that's right baby......watch out for me......and catch me if you can. I am the so called "triple threat" of the runner's world.......I just haven't come up with the third threat yet. If you find it would you please let me know. Thank you.

Pssstttt.....One more thing: I've decided to run another MARATHON! You could say I'm more than just a little bit crazy.

Beauty is Pain.....Pain is Beauty

Or some other crap like that.

Oh the things we women do for a little beauty. Case in point: Plucking our eyebrows. Not fun. Waxing: Not fun (or anything even remotely close to fun.) Wearing high heels: Sure it makes our legs look lean and nice, but really? NOT FUN! Well, today I was able to initiate my four year old daughter into the "it hurts like h-e double you know what, but it's all in the name of beauty" club. Today was the day of the piercing of the ears. Now I am from the mentality of not caring when my girls get their ears pierced. I don't have a certain age that I make them wait until. That's not to say that I disagree with people who do. I also never pierced their ears when they were babies, but again, I don't disagree with people who chose to do that. It's your child....do whatever the hay you want. I just thought that I would wait until they were the ones that chose to do it. I wasn't going to make them do something that they didn't want to do. Well, a little more than a year ago, Savy decided that she wanted to get her ears pierced. She was three at the time. Great. Let's do it. Then this happened.........

And we decided that after dozens and dozens of stitches.....getting her ears pierced might not be the best idea at the time. So we waited.....and waited. And then, that fateful day when Savy was watching an episode of John and Kate plus Eight (which by the way, is her FAVORITE show....really.....it is.....I'm not making this up) and one of the little girls gets her ears pierced and has an absolute meltdown! Like really, the mother of all meltdowns. It was then and there that Savy looks up at me and says: "Mom, I am NEVER getting my ears pierced!" Well.....okay then.

But I knew she'd come around....and come around she did. When she told me that she wanted them pierced, I threw her in the car ( Not literally people. Geesh. Don't call CPS on me) and headed over to the mall......before she could change her mind, or worse, get in another scooter accident.

Here she is all excited and ready to go. She has not idea......poor thing.

And now, the prep work is almost done. Hair pinned back: Check. Sterile gloves: Check. Cleaning the area with alcohol: Check. Teenager at the mall who was going to be shooting holes in my daughters ears: Check. Mother who wants to grab her daughter and make a run for it: Check and Check.

Um yeah....all done and SO not happy with me OR the teeny bopper employee.

This one is so sad.....Will she ever forgive me? Keep chanting this Savy: Beauty is pain, Beauty is pain.

There. That's better.

And then, because I'm all about the bribery..... (I am. There's no shame in it.) We went to get ice cream. Only our favorite ice cream store in the mall had apparently over- stayed it's welcome because it was no where to be found.....but we discovered that a Vanilla shake from McDonalds does the trick quite nicely.

And here's the money shot of the cute little pink flower earrings worn by the cutest little girl you ever did see.

I definitely think this last picture says it all. Smile on the face, gladly proclaiming the fact that she just got her ears pierced AND that a shake from Mickey Dee's can make it all better. Yes it can, Savy. Yes it can.

Now what to do about those Kindergarten shots?

And all the girlies say he's pretty fly for a white guy.....

A BIG shout- out to my hottie husband for kicking his first half marathon right in the can.

1 hour and forty minutes.

Ran it like a rockstar.

(Guess all that training paid off.)

I will take a small amount of credit for the kick-A play-list I created for him.

And for standing out in the freezing cold cheering him on.

But other than that, he totally did it on his own.

I'm so proud of him.

Give it to me baby, Uh huh, uh huh....and all the girlies say he's pretty fly for a white guy.

Dang skippy.

The birds and the bees.....Pinata Style

Dang that Santa. Dang him right to heck. (And dang the use of my "clean" language, when all I really feel like doing is swearing right now. BUT, you never know who's reading this blog, right? So, I will just continue to swear in my mind and pretend that I really do have a mouth that I could kiss my Mother with.) Now, what did the big guy do that's so bad, you might ask? Well, this is exactly what he did. He gave my 9 year old son a lesson in Sex Ed that we didn't quite bargain for..... all through a seemingly harmless video game...... that he got for Christmas. Is it all starting to make sense now? Really? You're still lost? Well, let me fill you in. Grab a drink and a snack 'cause this is gonna be GOOD! (And juicy.....and full of innuendos....if you're lucky! {wink, wink})

So, do me a fav. Watch this video real quick.....It won't take long....I promise. 43 seconds or less.... Just do it.....It'll be worth it.....

Now what do you see from this video? I see a fun-filled game involving pinatas. Nothing more. Nothing less.No blatant sexual undertones. No underlying innuendos. No mention of, dare I say, intercourse. (Gasp.) So I urged Zachary to ask for this game for Christmas. I am all about being able to use my children's Christmas toys as my own, and this game kinda intrigued me. Hmmm...plant a garden, attract species of pinatas, take care of your garden. Seems harmless enough. Bam! Christmas day, said game is opened and oohed and aahed over. Zachary plays it for awhile and then a couple of nights later when he's in bed I decide to give it a little try. I am hooked. I start by making my garden. Then I plant certain types of plants and this attracts certain species of pinata. Then, having certain species of pinata in your garden attracts other species of pinata. Seems kind of dumb, but oh so addicting! Then, the longer I play the game, the more skills I gain....And I've got mad skillz, baby! It's then that I realize this: Your pinatas can procreate! Well I never......

So this is how it goes.

1. You must have two of the same species of pinata. (Well, thanks captain obvious.)

2. All of the pinatas "needs" must be met. ( Things like feeding them a certain food, or making sure a certain type of plant is growing in the garden.)

3. You need to make sure they have a house. ('Cause I guess these little suckers don't want to "do it" in the car. Where's their sense of adventure, I ask you.)

After all of their needs are met is when the "magic" happens. You drag the two little love birds together. Little hearts flutter above their heads. The screen flashes forward to the inside of the house. The two pinatas are doing a love dance. (I am NOT making this up.) Now the screen flashes to the outside of the house where it is ROCKING UP AND DOWN! (Holy snake eyes on Sunday.) Then it flashes back into the inside of the house where the male pinata rolls over and falls asleep and the female pinata lights up a teeny tiny pinata cigarette. (Okay, just kidding....now I'm making it up, but I just wanted to see if ya'll were paying attention.) So, after they are done shaking the house to high heavens, both pinatas crawl out of the house and go their separate ways. Pretty soon the baby fairy comes and drops an egg in your garden, and in 1-2 minutes you are the proud parents of a baby pinata! (Whoops. I guess they forgot to use protection.) I am crapping you not!

I don't want to even know what sorts of thoughts are running through my 9 year olds head right now......fluttering love hearts......foreplay dancing..... if the house is rockin' don't come a knockin'.....Isn't he too young for this stuff? Isn't he too young for this video game? What's this rated E for everyone junk?! And why, oh why, did he have to learn the birds and the bees from a stinkin' video game? I for sure thought he'd learn it from some dirty little perv on the playground. I guess it's time for that 'Talk." The one that I'm going to make Santa Claus come and give him!

Well I'll be danged.....they cater???

Psst.....here's a secret. Did you know that the very best burger restaurant in Utah Valley has expanded their horizons to include a catering business? I happen to know this because I'm definitely on the up and up with all the latest trends. Oh, and also, my father-in-law happens to be the owner of said restaurant. (But that's a minor detail.)





That being said, here is my shameless plug for the brand new Burgers Supreme Catering. If you own your own company, are the boss of people, work for a company, work for a boss, plan family reunions, attend family reunions, are on the activity committee for your ward (and if you are, I'm sorry), attend activities in your ward, and may have anything to do with the planning of a shindig, big or small, Please......pretty, pretty please.....keep Burgers Supreme in mind for the job. If you have ever partaken of the sheer goodness that is Burgers Supreme, you will know of the quality of their food. (Plus their fry sauce is SO good you might just want to take a bath in it....go on, you can....we won't tell anyone.)



C'mon do it.....just call them.....we all know you want to.

http://www.burgerssupremecatering.com/

A conversation

Today I had a very "revealing" conversation with my two year old son. Here's how it went. I had just stepped out of the shower and he was sitting on the bathroom counter brushing his teeth with my toothbrush. (Oh the lovely things we moms do for a moments peace.) Now, before you judge, Yes, I do take a shower with my son in the room. He's TWO for hecks sake, and besides, if I didn't have my watchful eye on him every minute of the day he would be outside playing in the road without any socks and shoes on, nary a jacket in sight, in this wonderful March weather. (Which, by the by, is exactly what he was doing earlier this morning while I was lying in my bed watching "The Bachelor" forgetting about the fact that if I don't have my watchful eye on him every minute of the day then he pulls stunts like this. Phew. That was a lot to get off my chest.)
But I digress....back to the whole point of this shenanigan......
Here's how out little chat went:

Me: (Toweling off in front of him as I have done every morning for his whole entire life.)

Braden: Mom, you have a funny wee wee.

Me: Oh, (slightly embarrassed by the two year olds observations.....it's not that funny, is it?) B...you're so silly. (Change subject fast....I do not like where this is headed.)

Braden: Mom, what are those called? (Pointing at my chest and square at "the goods.")

Me: (Being coy) I don't know Beepers, what are they called?

Braden: Armpits! (Thinking for a minute.....and this is what I'm positive crosses his mind.... Hmm...I see Dad put on his deodorant every morning underneath his armpits, and these things look suspiciously different. These cannot be armpits.) Nooooo Mom, not armpits. What are they called?

Me: (Oh boy, which word should I use? As a whole slew of them cross of mind, and I will save you the many options I ran through, before I finally decided....) It's called my chest B. My chest. Now get outside and play in the road!

And this is why I can never shower again. (I sure hope my husband likes his women stinky....and er...... "ungroomed." YIKES.) Such a sad tale....but true. I'm afraid this ones going to give me a run for my money. But he sure is cute, ain't he?

Yeah.....we pretty much rock as parents....

That's what Lewis and I were saying to ourselves in bed last night. We were giving ourselves a huge pat on the back, because really, who's better parents than we are? (Don't really answer that question.) In all of our awesomeness, we surprised our kids on Saturday with a trip to the Happiest place on Earth (which I've been told is different for some people) but for us it spells DISNEYLAND. And get this.....this is how we told them. (Because again, all super cool parents, raise your hand. Hollah!)

After we had our weekend ritual of Chinese take-out, we gave our kids their "Special" fortune cookies. (Not those kind of "special" cookies....jeez you sickos.) These fortune cookies were specially prepared by dear old me, and as you can see, made it very clear where we were going to be headed this week. After much screaming, jumping around, and near wetting of underpants, the kiddos calmed down enough to shower us with praises.

"You're the best Mom and Dad ever!"

"We love you so much!"

"You should be given the "parents of the year award." (Okay, this is maybe a stretch, but that's how they made us feel.)

Nothing, and I mean nothing, beats having your kids think that you are the bomb.com.

So, my fellow bloggers, try not to think of me this week as I walk around Disneyland in the 70 degree weather, holding a hand- dipped corn dog in one hand and a Mickey Mouse shaped ice-cream in the other, while I ride on Space Mountain and get Mickey's autograph. With my diet out the window I will not eat anything that (in my words of my bro-in-law, Dave) is not deep-friend and is and/or rolled in sugar. That's just how I roll. I will report my adventures when I return.

Peace out Peeps!

***P.S Blah, blah, blah, blah....I know I've been gone awhile from blogging. Please don't remind me of this fact....I am deeply aware of it. Blah, blah, blahedy freakin' blah....I'll be better in the future....I promise.