I LOVE this song!!!

Random post...just had to add this to my blog because I LOVE this song!! I have to crank it up when it comes on the radio. Love it! Had to share...



P.S. LOVE the toilet paper/paper towel commercial that follows the video. Nothing like free advertising ::insert eye roll::. That reminds me, we're almost out. *adding TP to my shopping list*.

Poor Bunny

Big has a bunny fetish. She loooooooooooves her bunnies, mostly "pink bunny"...he's #1 in her life. Pink bunny needs frequent baths because Big likes to chew on her bunnies' left ears...its an unexplained phenomenon, we just accept it. Anyway, pink bunny has been getting a bath for the last 3 days now (we figure he must have stopped in at the spa...or maybe we just didn't get to the laundry *ahem* either is possible) so she's had white bunny instead. For the most part, she's been fine with this, but this morning she decided that she had to have pink bunny back. The conversation went something like this:

Big: Mama...I have pink bunny today?

Me: Umm...yeah, Big. I'm pretty sure that pink bunny is all done getting a bath.

Hubby: Yep, he's in the dryer.

Big: Oh, yay! Pink bunny!! Hewe mama, I need pink bunny cuz dis bunny need a baff (aka bath). (hands me white bunny)

Me: White bunny needs a bath?

Big: Yeah. He weeeeewy (aka really) diwty...and stinky!!

Me: He's stinky??

Big: Yeah, cuz I toot on him a lot!!

Me: *speechless*

Hubby: *smiling ear to ear*

Huh. I guess even princesses toot...on their beloved bunnies no less. Poor bunny. *sigh*

Stop the Insanity!!!

Mine, that is...my insanity. Heaven help me. My 2-year old is trying to kill me. She suddenly hates her little sister, and she's acting out. She's figured out that while I'm occupied with the baby (and we're talking feeding, changing diapers, necessities only here people, not playing goo-goo with the baby while I ignore her) that she can get away with just about anything because I'm trapped. And these things she's doing...they have no purpose. She's not running into the kitchen to steal scraps of bread because I won't feed her, or sneaking into her room to lay down because she's so exhausted and I won't let her nap...quite to the contrary actually. The things she's doing have me rubbing my chin in puzzlement long after they've been cleaned up. Here's a list of our recent "fun" activities. ::insert eye roll here::

Saturday Morning: (while I'm feeding the baby) Squeezes a tube of A&D ointment out all over her hands and rubs it on both sides of her bedroom door and door handle That was easy to clean up, ummm...no.

Monday Morning: (while I'm getting the baby up from her nap) Gets caught stealing and trying to open a biiiiiiiig bottle of lotion in the dining room all by herself. Mission aborted. WHEW!

(while I'm feeding the baby) Sneaks into the bathroom to play. Throws toilet paper roll into toilet. Turns on sink. Covers hands, forearms, shirt, and bathroom floor with hand soap. My toothbrush was also moved into a different hole in the holder...I have no idea what she did with it. Out of fear, I got a new one last night.

(same feeding...10 minutes later) Grabs an empty container of hand wipes off of the table in the dining room...dissatisfied that the wipes are gone, she decides to dump the left over anti-bacterial liquid all over the dining room carpet. (at least this one sort of cleaned itself up...hee)

(lunch time) Decides to pretend that her grilled cheese sandwich is a hair comb rather than eating it. Lovely.

(during Little's afternoon feeding) Takes a dime off of the end table right next to me (because of choking risks money is soooooo off limits in our house). As fast as she can, rather than give it back to me, she shoves it into one of the vent slots in my video monitor. Nooooooooooooooooooooooooo! Luckily, the monitor still works...as long as you don't shake it, or uhh...move it too much...ugh!

(while I'm changing Little's diaper) Goes into the kitchen, takes hot dog buns off of kitchen table and drops each package onto the floor...one by one.

And that's just in the last few days, with each of these incidents being followed up with a time out and serious talking to. I think she spent half of her day in time out yesterday! Seriously! Where is Dr. Spock when you need him? Or Dr. Phil? Or Dr. Seuss, for goodness sakes!? I'm at a loss here people. Somebody help me.

Take me out to the ball game...

Today was a blast! We took Little to her first baseball game! Hubby and Little and I went to watch the Brewers play Miller Park with my parents and siblings and nieces and nephew (Big was with her Dad today). There were 11 of us total. We "tail gated"at our house before the game, due to crappy, chilly weather that kept us from doing it outdoors (boo), but ended up having so much fun anyway! Little was a complete angel! She mostly snuggled with me in the Bjorn (and slept through every, amazingly loud scream, whistle, clap, and round of the wave as it came around...impressive!), but also really enjoyed chewing on her hands and drooling while watching the game!! I think we may have a baseball fan (and an early teether) on our hands! Hubby couldn't be prouder.

On a "that would happen to me" note: I did plan on bringing a bottle of pumped breast milk with us to the game, but in the hustle to get out the door, I forgot. About an hour after we arrived at our seats it became apparent that I would need to breastfeed Little in my seat at the stadium (gulp!). Now don't get me wrong, this is the second child I've breast fed...I've certainly had to nurse in public before. I think the unspoken "deal" about nursing in public goes like this: If my baby is hungry and screaming, I'm going to feed her. I'll try to not flash you and you try not to stare at me waiting for my boob to pop into sight (or stare me down with evil, "I can't believe she's doing that" eyes) and we'll all be happy. K? However, as anyone who's been to a sporting event knows, there isn't much room in ballpark seats, and with the tiered stadium seating arrangement, my end of the deal gets a little more challenging. An indecent exposure ticket lies only one false move away. Regardless, Little was hungry, so I got everything all set, did a little calming meditation and, using a blanket to cover myself, proceeded to begin a very successful, covered feeding. Everything was going so well, when all of a sudden, I saw a camera crew...in our aisle...right next to our row. Hubby leaned over and rather loudly announced "Hey Honey! You get to be up on the big screen breastfeeding!" (Less than amused, I gave him my best evil eye.) It seems that a man one row in front of us and only 5 seats to my right was chosen to answer one of the jumbo-tron on-camera trivia questions. As the camera crew got ready to broadcast, I felt my eyes begin bulging out of their sockets in amazement and dismay. Hubby and Grandma both looked at me and then each other and laughed. Was my already larger than normal breast going to actually make an appearance on the larger than life jumbo-tron?! Say it ain't so!! I began to panic.

Much to my relief, the man got out of his seat and stood in the aisle, and the camera man turned around and set his angle in another direction. Breathing once again, I was able to finish feeding my daughter without worrying about accidentally raising the rating of the jumbo-tron video from G to PG-13. That would only happen to me. Sheesh.

Lofty Goals...

Big is watching an episode of Dora...the topic is what you want to be when you grow up. Dora wants to be a doctor. Boots wants to be a baseball player. From the kitchen I hear this:

Dora: What do you want to be when you grow up?

Big: Uhhh...a PWINCESS!!!

I must admit that right now she is wearing her princess night gown, tights, Cinderella dress-up shoes, and a tiara. Hmm...she does fit the part. Oh, dear...

"Where Da Mice Go??" A lesson in death.

Big opened our day today by asking me this very question. I froze. How do you explain death to a 2 year old?! My "thinking on my feet" decision: you don't. The conversation went something like this:

Big: Where da mice go Mommy?

Me: Uhhhhhhh...

Hubby: (chimes in to save me) The mice had to go away!

Big: Why??

Me: He got an owie. (sorry that I said it before the words even came out of my mouth)

Big: An owie?? WHY?! (now she's worried)

Hubby: (following my lead) Ya see, Big...the mouse got a really bad owie, and...

(he sees me giving him the "don't finish that sentence" eye...and immediately stops in his tracks)

Hubby: He had to leave to go to the doctor to get all fixed up!

Me: YEAH! (whew!)

Big: Oh! To da doctor?

Me and Hubby: yes! (lots of affirmative nodding going on in unison)

(Big is now satisfied with our answer and walks out of the room. Crisis averted.)

Me: Dr. Can (as I throw a sideways glance to Hubby)

Me: (under my breath, but loud enough so that Hubby can hear me) First name Garbage.

Hubby: Yes, he's French...Dr. Garbage Can

And we cracked up together. I know, its not nice, and it was a little bit wrong...but darn it this parent stuff keeps you on your toes! You HAVE to find humor in life or you'll go crazy! We'll deal with death another day...hopefully not any day soon.

Mouse Watch: The Final Chronicles

After the 50th time that Grandma told me how big the mouse was that she had seen running through my kitchen yesterday (she even mentioned the "r" word ::shudder::...that's "rat" for those of you who didn't get that) I decided that there was no way I could step foot into my own house until Hubby was home too. What would I do if the darn thing came out and challenged me to a duel, or even a mere stare down? Alone with both girls I would certainly lose and be forced outdoors with both kids, so wait we did...at Grandma's house...until after 8 PM.

Despite her horror (and a little bit of post-traumatic stress disorder it seems), one good thing did come out of poor Grandma's Mousey sighting... we were able to learn that, due to the gigantic size of this mouse, we needed bigger traps. Grandma asserted that she didn't believe that the mouse she had seen would even fit in the traps that Hubby had laced with peanut butter, much less be eliminated (sorry PETA). This was "the biggest mouse that she had ever seen." Hubby (after laughing about the rumored growing size of our rodent) agreed that he would purchase larger traps on his way home, and thankfully so because Grandma was right! When we arrived home last night and performed "trap inspection", we discovered that Mousey was so darn huge (or maybe so smart) that he was able to actually eat the peanut butter out of one the previously set traps, but not get caught in it! ::grumblegrumblegrumble:: It seemed that he had won the first battle, and hubby and I don't take defeat well, so we gathered our resources...baited newer, bigger traps...and went to bed.

(time lapse...8 hours)

Hubby gets out of bed this morning, heads straight for the kitchen, and triumphantly strides back into our bedroom proclaiming "We caught ourselves a mouse!!!" The satisfaction on his face is clear. This is a manly victory. ::swoon:: My hero!! (hee!) And while part of me does feel terrible that the poor creature had to go to mousey heaven...my thought is that if the darn thing was smart enough to win "the battle of the peanut butter" (which it shall be referred to as from now on), then it should have known better than to indulge in the suspiciously appearing "free cheese" on our kitchen floor. But still...ummm...sorry Mousey.

Now where did I put those clorox wipes...and the rug steam cleaner...and the bleach...?! BLECH!!

Mouse Watch, Day 1

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK! There's been a sighting!!!

I just received a panic filled call from Grandma, who watches the girls at our house on the days that I work. She saw the mouse! She said its BIG! Bigger than any mouse she ever had in her house, and she's so creeped out that she's taking the girls over to her house. ::whelp:: I want to cry. I feel sick to my stomach. I HATE creepy crawlies!!! Filled with a new sense of panic of my own, I decide that I MUST share this news with Hubby!! This is a mousey emergency!

I begin by calling his work cell phone and get voicemail. I wait a few minutes and then called his personal cell instead and again get voicemail. Thinking that he's in a meeting I take inventory of my panic, and decide to stop calling. A few minutes later, my phone rings...on the other end is a worried sounding Hubby wanting to know what's going on. "I didn't get you out of a meeting, did I?" I ask. "Yeah, the company staff meeting. I was actually in the middle of my part and I said 'My wife has called me a few times now. I need to go and see what's going on'. So what's going on?" Realizing that he thinks that there is some sort of child emergency and suddenly feeling sheepish, I reply ::whelp:: "Oh, I'm so sorry!! I didn't mean to get out in your meeting!! But, (then the panic hits again)...itsjustthatmyMomsawthemouseinthehouseandshesaiditsreallybig
andshescreepedoutandtakingthegirlstoherhouse!ShesaiditsreallyreallybigHubby!!!" There's momentary silence on the other end of the phone...then laughter. I blush, realizing that this does not qualify for the emergency category in his book. Now I feel silly. "Please don't tell the people in your meeting that I'm calling about the mouse," I beg, "They'll laugh at me". "Well, they're going to ask if everything is OK! I have to tell them something!" he asserts. He's going to tell them, dammit.

Curse you mousey!!!

Doing a Tribal Dance of Excitement

Yep, I'm dancing right here at my desk. It looks a lot like the "cabbage patch"...that arm circling dance from the 90's? Yeah, that's the one. Anyway, this impromptu jam session has been brought to you by 5 very sweet words: We're getting a swing set!!!! I can't wait for Big to see it for the first time! The first thing she said this morning (aside from "Mooooooommmmmmyyyyyyy...can I get up?") was "I wanna go outside!!". The girl loves to play outdoors! Heck, get rid of bugs (she takes after her mother *ahem*) and I think she'd agree to live out there! We spent some time in our yard playing yesterday (courtesy of the beautiful weather that we've had lately and the mouse that I discovered in our dining room and needed to flee from-ICK!) and she not only had a great time running around willy-nilly, but she also went down for both her nap, and to bed for the night like a perfect little (exhausted) angel! Me thinks this is going to be more of a gift for the whole family than just one little girl! I can't wait to set her loose on it!

I was looking at the swing set on the computer this morning with Grandma-who is precipitating our ability to get said swing set-and Big wandered up to us. As she approached the computer, she saw what I was looking at and wide-eyed said, and I quote, "Mama, I wish I could go there!!". Very soon, Big. Very soon. Thank you Grandma!!!!

The Sunday Night Struggle

I don't know if Sunday nights are like this for everyone, but at our house, Sunday is the busiest night of the week. We usually arrive home from having dinner with my parents between 6-7 PM, make a mad dash to complete any immediate tasks (heaven forbid one of us needs to use the bathroom!), clean out the tub, then hubby starts doing laundry and/or dishes while I give one tired, wiggly girl a bath and get her in bed, then give the second tired, wiggly girl a bath and get her in bed. Free of tired wiggly girls, we then both rush around the house like nuts to complete any of the weekends chores that didn't get finished earlier (curse you endless amounts of dirty dishes and laundry!!)...by the time the day is over, I'm exhausted...drop on the bed without showering, don't have time to say my prayers before the snoring begins exhausted. Today is no different. So, be forewarned as you read this that I'm not going to last long here tonight and I may not have anything all that thrilling to talk about. My brain is cramping. I'm spent.

It's been a wonderful weekend overall; lots of one-on-one time with hubby yesterday, including an afternoon nap on the couch AND a Saturday night dinner date (woot! woot!), an almost uneventful Sunday morning at church with both girls (aka minimal screaming during mass, no one eye-balling us to get a move on with our loud child), a lovely day with my family, in-laws, hubby and the girls, beautiful weather to play in, really this weekend was great! And while I am admittedly completely exhausted from barely sitting for two days straight, it dawned on me moments ago as I was laying on my bed next to Little's bassinet, watching her chest rise and fall as she slowly gave into to her slumber, that I am one lucky woman. I'm fortunate to have those two sweet little girls to bathe at night. Fortunate to have family nearby to go and see every weekend. Fortunate that Hubby and I love each other so much, enjoy each other's company, and are able to work together so well when our plates are full. And fortunate that we have a home to bring our girls to when we're done playing. Sometimes in the midst of an otherwise busy, frustrating, mind draining situation, I suddenly find myself struck with appreciation for all that I have. Love is all around me, and my heart is full.

Zzzzzzzzz.

Happy Birthday to Youuuuuuuuuuuuuu!

(Imagine me singing that in my best Marilyn Monroe voice, cuz that's how I'm imagining it...and in my mind, its a good one!)

Happy 33rd Birthday to the most loving, generous, handsome, sweet, sexy, thoughtful, hysterically funny, caring, loyal man I've ever known. You walked into my life and changed everything the way a spring day changes a long, dark winter season. I love you with everything that I am. You make me a very lucky person.

Happy Birthday Hubby!

Secrets Revealed

I should have known better, really. I showed Big the Brewers tailgate chair, that I had exhaustedly searched for and found for hubby's birthday, before I wrapped the box. She was curious, birthdays are exciting for two year-olds (and 29 year-olds *ahem*) and so I showed her the gift and then let her help me wrap the box. She was GREAT at taping the paper...ummmm...to itself...but she helped none-the-less and we had fun doing it. The wrapped box went on the dining room table, the card got signed, and I was feeling pretty good about getting it done two days before the actual event. When hubby got home from work I was in our bedroom changing Little's diaper and I heard this:

Big: Huuuuuuubbbbbbbbbbbyyyy!!! (Clearly she doesn't call him hubby...but that's his name here. We are not some strange polygamist cult or anything. Just clearing that up)

Hubby: Hi Big! How was your day?

Big: Good! We wwap youw pwesent!

Hubby: You did?!

Big: Yep! It's on da tabew! See?!

Hubby: Oh! Very nice!

Big: Shhh...I not supposed to teww you its a chaiw fow fiiiiiive minutes.

Me: ::slaps forehead:: *thinking* "No Big! Not five minutes! Two days!" D'oh!!

Surprise and happy birthday hubby! I hope you like your chair! HEE!

The War of the After Baby Bulge.

I say war, not battle (as most people would say because its a coined phrase) because right now, it's more than a mere battle, it's the whole war. Ugh! I know, I know...Little is only 3 months old, it takes time to shed pregnancy weight, I get it...but dear Lord I want my old body back! Right. Now. Nope, still there. Crap. Demanding things doesn't work for Big either, but she tries it so often, I figured it must work for some people. Apparently not me. Hmph!

My belly is really the only part of me I can't stand right now. I've always been a "pear". You know, small on top, larger on the bottom kind of girl. And over the last few years, I've come to embrace my pearness...kinda curvy, feminine, easily concealed by an empire waisted dress, accentuated by sleeveless and low cut shirts...I actually finally like being a pear, but alas, all of that has changed. Looking at my body in the mirror now, I'd say I resemble more of a...hmmm...pineapple. Just big and round all the way from top to bottom. I'd even venture to say that my hair resembles the top part of the pineapple on "stay home with the kids" days. Huh. Oh, but no pokey, texturey things all over me, I have to draw the line at our similarities there...well, unless I don't shave my legs for a week. Gosh, I think I AM a pineapple!! But dang it, I'm NOT happy about it! How does one find their way from pineapple back to pear? Oh, right diet and exercise, yada yada... Doesn't crawling around on the floor to chase a two year old out from under the dining room table 50 times a day count? And how about "dancing like a princess" to every. single. song. in 20 different Disney movies? Certainly I must reach optimum fat burning heart rate at some point! And diet? Please! I have portion control down! A pot of coffee and one shared granola bar for breakfast. Two gnawed on scraps of grilled cheese sandwich and 13 leftover dried cherries (only two of which fell on the floor) for lunch. Five pieces of licked hot dog and 6 cold oven baked fries for dinner...followed by a hot delicious meal all of my own after Big goes to sleep. And to be honest I eat said hot meal while jiggling Little in one of my arms because that happens to be her fussy time...so that's even more calorie burning right there! I think I'm on to something here! So why aren't the pounds dropping to the floor around me?! Oh, well I guess there was the pint of frozen custard I ate the other day, and a chocolate malt the next two days in a row, and two cupcakes the following day, and a hershey bar, oh, and the sundaes I made at home and ate two nights in a row at 10 PM. Oh, and the donut I JUST ate as I was typing this (but it was picked out for me by Big and literally handed to me, so I couldn't not eat it. It might have damaged her psyche for years to come, had I rejected one of her attempts at generosity, ya know?) Huh...I think I'm really onto something here. Dammit.

OK, well, let me make my public vent of hate for my pineappleness my first step in eating better and shedding some of these post-baby pounds. And if anyone is reading this, please feel free to call me on it. In fact, please do because I SUCK at this stuff. And the war rages on...

Thou Shalt Not Covet Thy Neighbor's Swing Set

OK, so I'm a sinner. I can't help it. I realllly want a swing set to put in our back yard. I've found myself coveting the jungle gyms of my surrounding neighbors on my drive home from work lately. I'm going to hell. Overall, I'm a good person, really! It's just that I can almost taste the joy that my big girl could have this summer sliding down a big slide, climbing up a little climbing wall, and swinging on a swing in our own back yard! There would be no need to pack up the necessities (30 pound diaper bag with refreshments, 80 pound car seat, 2 wiggly children, etc.) to go play! BLISS!!! But sadly, I've been given the thumbs down by the male authority of the house. We hope to sell our house sorta soon and buy a much bigger one (which isn't saying much since we currently live in a matchbox). I've been told there's no sense in setting one up this year if we'll just be moving next year, and while that's true and does make plenty of sense, um...I still want one. I need an angle here people! I'm losing ground fast! Maybe if I told him that his not allowing us to get one and forcing me to covet would eventually send his otherwise perfectly sweet wife to hell he would change his mind? Yeah, I didn't think so either. Boo.

On an up note, the weather was absolutely gorgeous here today. Big and I met the hubby out in the back yard and played outdoors for the first time in about 6 months. We blew bubbles and Big chased them, and ate some-blech. She climbed up her little play set and slid down the slide all by herself. (*sniff* my big girl!) Then Little joined us in the Bjorn and spent her first afternoon ever outdoors...being born in January can do that to a person! It was a wonderful afternoon!!! We laughed a lot and had so much fun! Then, of course when it was time to come in the house for the evening, the usual chaos ensued. Big wouldn't eat her dinner, Little screamed, hubby and I ran around like headless poultry...you know, the usual. Oh, Calgon...

Seeking the Balance...

To blog or not to blog...that seems to be the question of most internet savvy people these days. Until recently I had no desire to blog. I've read many a blog that I've enjoyed before, just never felt that this was something that I wanted to or would be able to invest my time in...until today. For some reason today this feels like a great idea...a way to talk about my life, my kids, my family and myself...get out my thoughts and ideas without having to sit down and verbalize them. Yup. Fabulous idea. Who knows, maybe no one will ever discover that this blog exists, or maybe I'll decide to send a link to everyone I've ever known (if I've done this and you're now reading this post...let me apologize in advance for wasting you time-hee!). Whatever this turns into, I hope that your time spent here is enjoyable and most of all entertaining!!

Let the blogging begin...