What Is True Love?

True love is cooking with onions when your husband loves them and you absolutely hate them.
True love is saving the last bite of your favorite dessert for your husband because you know he loves it just as much.
True love is posting pictures of your poor, unsuspecting, overworked, sleeping husband... multiple times.

OK, so maybe that's not a sign of true love. But it is a sign that my husband truly loves me despite the fact that I find humor in posting these pictures at his expense.

True love is letting your husband win Settlers, when you totally have it in the bag.
True love is resisting the urge to stay in you pajamas all day, but instead taking a shower and getting ready, because you realize it's important to still look somewhat desirable to your husband. (I'm still not quite there yet).
True love is birthing 3 of his kids.
True love is folding your husbands socks just the way he likes them. Whoa! I got a little bit ahead of myself. I guess in order to have clean socks to fold you actually have to do the laundry.
True love is doing the laundry.
True love is supporting your husbands addiction to Dr. Pepper.

Now to REALLY define true love,
True love is driving into the city so you can be your husbands *clinical boards patient.
True love is laying in a chair for the majority of the day with your mouth propped open.

True love is trusting your husband who is about to stick a needle in your mouth to give you an injection.
True love is trusting that your husband (who is about to give you a shot) will not take advantage of his new found power over you and use it as payback for all the pictures you've posted of him sleeping on the Internet.
True love is letting your husband place a rubber dam over your mouth while drool is seeping out the sides, and your tongue is flailing around trying to find a comfortable place to lay, and you nearly choke on your spit because it's really hard to swallow with your mouth propped open..(Try it. Right now. Open your mouth and swallow. Not so easy, huh! and not so pretty either.)

True love is standing up and walking around with this thing in you mouth when it looks like you've just stepped out of some horror movie. Then standing in line (with mouth still propped open mind you) waiting to be seen by 3 other doctors who will be grading Nate's work. Mean while, drool still seeping, tongue still flailing, spit still chocking.
True love is when your husband finally removes the rubber dam and he gently wipes the drool away from your glistening lips. (I tried to make that sound as romantic as possible. Either way you look at it, it's just not that hot)
True love is when your husband is still willing to kiss you after he's seen the drool seeping, the tongue flailing, and the spit choking. Let's just say, they don't call him Dr. Feelgood for nothing.

*Last weekend marked the last and final test that Nate will ever have to take for the rest of his life! It's been a long time coming, but I think we are finally there.

The Next Best Thing Since The Padded Bra

Well, maybe it's not the next best thing... but it's close.

This post is for those of you who have a moderate to severe addiction to blogging. The ones who are saying, "Ha, me addicted... to blogging?! Pffft, right.!" are the ones who have the problem. It's OK, denial is the first stage in admitting you have a blog addiction (BA). Denial is usually followed by anger, bargaining, depression, & acceptance. As you have probably noticed, the stages of BA are pretty much the same as the stages of grief... except I have taken the liberty to add one last stage to BA. After you have reached the sad realization that you are in fact a victim of BA the next very important step would be Google Reader. I share this with you only as a friend and fellow blogger. Your time management is very important to me. I only use Google Reader out of convenience, not because I have an addiction to blogging. Me, addicted... to blogging?! Pffft, right! Clearly I'm not addicted to blogging. I could totally live without it. As you can tell, I myself am in the early stages of dealing with BA.

So how can Google Reader be the next best thing since the padded bra? Well, I'm not quite sure. I guess it offers support and it holds your "friends" all in one place. And it keeps you "up" to date on all the blogs you follow.

OK, so that was kind of a long shot. And OK, my husband is going to have another reason to be embarrassed by me when he reads this. But seriously, if you want to save on some time instead of clicking from blog to blog only to find that people haven't updated, then you should really consider buying a new bra or signing up for Google Reader. (In this case Google Reader would probably be the more effective choice.)

Last Week It Was Snow Boots...

This week it's Superman.

I went to go help out at Kaleb's school yesterday and he insisted on wearing his new Superman PJ's. I was opposed to the whole wearing PJ's to school thing, while Kaleb on the other hand thought it would be the best thing ever. So we compromised. He had to wear whatever pants I picked out and he got to choose his shirt... his Superman shirt.

As I've said before, some days you just don't fight it. You pick and choose your battles and I wasn't about to pick a fight with Superman!

It's a Spring Thing

Hi. It's me. The slacker blogger/friend /housewife/mother/daughter/sister/person (I think I covered it all). I have been very unmotivated as of late. Some would call it lazy, I would call it productively challenged. So this is going to be a short, but sweet post. I'm just trying to catch up on all the mucho exciting events I haven't had time to write about.

So I've been trying to stay somewhat social and I decided it would be fun to try and hit Philly's Cherry Blossom festival... which really isn't much of a festival at all. Nope, no party streamers, no jugglers, no cotton candy... no nothin'. In my opinion it doesn't really qualify as a festival at all. Regardless of the non-festiveness it was still incredibly awesome!

The Forecast Calls For Snow?!

Ummm... I don't think so, unless Kaleb knows something that the weather man doesn't. Whether it's a form of self expression or the start of I new trend, I don't know.

All I know is that some days it's not worth the fight.

I also know that these are the moments that make me smile as a Mom. And seeing his proud little face strutting his stuff down the hall of his school with his "super fast snow boots" on makes it all worth it.

A Wise Drunk Man Once Said

While eating out with my small family at the local BK (for all you people who don't get down with the get down or actually prepare home cooked meals for your loved ones, BK stands for Burger King) I was approached by 'drunk man', who kindly shared these words of of wisdom with me,

"You know...(words slurring a bit, balance staggered)... back in the bathroom... (wipes chin)... they have braille on the wall. And I just want to tell you how important it is for you to teach those kids braille". I casually lean back to avoid the stench in his breath while slowly sliding the children behind me giving a polite, yet awkward smile. I think to myself for a second, "Is this man blind? If so, how sad. That makes it twice as hard for him to walk in a straight line being drunk and blind. The odds are really stacked against him."

He continues with more power and conviction, (I can tell this is something he firmly believes in), "It is just soooo important for them to feeeeel you know?! It's like braille and they need to be able to learn to feeeeeel things!". I kindly nod my head in agreement, after all, the ability to touch is one of the 5 senses and we should never neglect the sense of touch... very important, very important indeed. Then to show active listening (thanks to my Communication class I took in college) I repeated back to him, "Braille on the bathroom wall huh? You're right, I see that this is very important. I will do my best to teach my kids to read braille." I then look over at Nate who is finding this little scene very amusing and say, "Braille honey" trying to bring him into our little conversation. After all, it would be selfish of me to enjoy this fine discussion with 'drunk man' all by myself.

After some more wise ramblings from 'Drunk Man' he abruptly stops what he's saying, turns around, and flounders out the door. Leaving both me and Nate shocked and mildly confused,... yet oddly entertained. I think to myself again as I watch him leave, "I need to eat out at BK more often."

Happy Birthday Macie Girl (ummm...a week ago)

So little Miss Macie turned 2 last Sunday, which means this is the longest amount of time I've gone without being pregnant. Its crazy how time flies! These past two years have been so absolutely wonderful with her added to the mix of our little family. Honestly, when I found out that I was pregnant with her I prayed every night that this little child I was going to have would be a good child... and also that my child would have hair. My prayers were answered, she was the best baby I could have ever asked for. As for the hair... well, that prayer's gradually being answered day by day. I figure by age 5 she'll have enough hair to pull it up into a pony tail (that is, if I don't attempt to cut it again).

As far as the whole birthday thing goes... she's still trying to figure that all out. I figure by next year she'll have the whole birthday thing figured out and she'll actually enjoy it when we sing Happy Birthday to her instead of acting awkwardly embarrassed.

It was still fun for her none the less. Who could complain when you get a day full of sugar and presents to open?

Conference Weekend

The days feel like they are starting to fly by, almost too fast. The closer it gets to our move the more I feel like I'm not quite ready yet to let go of this little life I've created here. I'm also not quite sure I'm ready to be thrown into the "real world" (not the Real World MTV... cause that would be wicked awesome!). The 'real world' where you don't rely on loans to live off of, but this is a subject for a different time.

We had a great past weekend. I have always loved conference weekend... scratch that. I have learned to really love and appreciate conference weekend. It's so nice to just sit back and be with the family and enjoy the amazingly beautiful talks, although the kids didn't enjoy them as much as we did. So to keep them entertained I pulled out the Mr. Potato Head toys. It kept them pretty entertained for 5 minutes or so. After they were finished with their Potato Head master pieces they called me over to have a look, "Mom, can you guess who's is who's?".

I don't know, it's a tough one, but I think I've got it figured out. Seriously, Kaleb cracks me up! I just hope he doesn't have some deeper psychological issues revealing itself through Mr. Potato Head.

I'm not sure if I'm the only one, but for some odd reason whenever it's conference weekend I start feeling oddly crafty. I say oddly crafty because I'm not an extremely crafty person. I'm not sure what it is... tell me I'm not the only one. So I was talking to my Mom on the phone about this,

me: "I'm feeling so motivated right now"
mom: "Really? To do what?"
me: "I don't know. Something really domestic and crafty."
mom: "Oh, that sounds fun. So what are you going to do?"
me: "...umm,.. (long, thoughtful pause)... probably nothing."
mom: "...oh..., OK. Why?"
me: "...Well, I guess I'm not motivated enough."
mom: "huh, well that motivation didn't last long."
me: "Nope, it sure didn't."

I ended up pulling myself together, finding my inner domestic diva and made some of these cute little bows for the girls since I've deprived them long enough of a good, girly childhood.

I can't take all the credit for them though, my friend Sarah (the true domestic, crafty diva herself) was the one who showed me how to make them. Now, when we go out Macie doesn't get mistaken for a little boy... at least I hope not, or else she's getting mistaken for a little cross dressing, gender confused little boy who likes to wear pink bows. Which, now that I think of it, could be the root of all of Kalebs problems since I did dress him up as a little girl from time to time just because I thought it was funny and his Dad hated it so much.

See, isn't he so pretty? I say the true test of man/boy/small toddler is how confident they are wearing girls clothes. Nate passed this test with flying colors when he wore my pants for Halloween.

He worked those pants like they have never been worked before ...snap, snap, snap!

Well, now that I'm far from my original topic of how awesome and inspiring conference was to men in drag, I am going to stop.

Until next time....

Kalebs Punishment (part 2)

So after Kaleb's massive melt down I made him let me take his picture as part of his punishment. Then to make sure Kaleb never throws another tantrum like that again, I upped the ante by adding Abrie into the mix. This did not go over well.

Watch the melt down unfold...

This is the classic Kaleb look... so dramatic. It cracks me up!

Gotta' love that forced smile at the end. Let's just say he won't be throwing another tantrum like that any time soon. Well, at least for the next few hours that is.

Best If Refrigerated

Some things just need to be refrigerated like;

heart shaped lollipops,

2 lonely little sugar babies in a Ziploc bag,
empty fruit bowl cups,
toy guns,
toy cars,
stuffed animals, books, and of course, shoes.

I'm not exactly sure why they need to be refrigerated, but I'm sure there's a good reason for it. All I know is that lately, every time I open up the fridge I find a nice little surprise compliments of Kaleb.

Just Breath

Some days... OK, most days, I just need to remind myself to breath. Especially on days like today. Not that today was any different than any other day, it was just a day.

Well Kaleb decided to throw the mother of all tantrums today (actually, I call all of his temper tantrums the mother of all tantrums... he's got 'em down good). And a day wouldn't be a day without Kaleb throwing some sort of fit where I have to call in a priest to perform an exorcism of sorts. Say it with me now, "Demons be gone!". Today's tantrum was just shy of the projectile vomit and spinning head. He was screaming so loud that my friend in a different apartment building called to make sure everything was OK. You get the picture.

So I sat Kaleb in a lengthy time out (long enough for him to regain some self control) and when he was able to talk to me without reaching an ear piercing decibel he was able to get down. I was sitting on the floor in the corner of the kitchen and Kaleb was at the opposite end. He slowly walks up to me not cracking a smile; his face bright red, his eyes swollen from crying. I don't say a thing, he doesn't say a thing. Then finally he gets his big Kaleb smirk on his face, jumps on top of me, and gives me a big hug melting my heart in the process (he's a smart boy). He looks at me and says sweetly, "Mom, I'm sorry".

As part of his punishment I made him let me take his pictures. Call it what you want; sweet portraits of a tired little boy who's had a long day or mug shots or perhaps a combination of both.

I keep telling myself that the terrible two's have got to end soon, right? I mean the boy is 4 & 1/2 and by the rate he is going he should be out of it by at least age 18.

Somedays the only thing that saves this little boy is this sweet face.