Accentuate the Positive

Sometimes subliminal messages work.  I received one the other day that reminded me that I'm not always the most positive person.  You all know I have never been Miss Positive Polly, and I know that about myself.  I however don't want the world to think that I absolutely hate motherhood.  I don't hate motherhood, it's just sometimes not the job I'm best suited to do.  I actually love being a mother, love the name mommy (the first 100 times it's used, anyway), and have NO REGRETS.  Well, if I have regrets they are mommy regrets and guilt that have more to do with me than with my kiddos.

I try to find humor in the situations I get myself into. 
I feel like if I can laugh about it then I can survive it. 
I have always been and will always be sarcastic. 
I apologize if that makes me a little crass, a little hard to swallow, a little bitchy. 
Well no, I don't apologize, but most of you just embrace it, and I appreciate that. 

What I'm getting at is that I am 110% GRATEFUL for what I have. 
I am beyond blessed. 
Even this week with a sick kiddo that took a trip to Children's Hospital
(constipation to the Nth degree, yeah I know, more poop!). 

I have the privilege of being home with both girls. 
Being able to be their #1 caregiver since day one. 
Something that I take for granted daily. 

I have a great and completely hilarious HUSBAND that makes all this happen,
and I take him for granted daily too. 
I also take for granted that he still loves me best, no matter the situation or the situations that I create.

I take for granted that I have little people who call me mom. 
Twice blessed in fact. 
I know that some women unfortunately don't get this gift. 
The fact isn't lost on me and I am humbled every time I think about it. 
I was lucky that my little bundles of joy, were in fact bundles of joy,
that I held immediately after labor. 
That I got to take home. 
That I GET to watch grow up. 
And I admit that I do forget that it's a privilege and an unbelievable blessing.

If you know me and know me well,  then you know I will never change who I am to please someone.  I won't change my writing or my honesty.  If you've been following this blog then you will know, it's been balls out since day one.  As my friend Krysten says, that is just my brand of Motherhood.  It's how I roll.  I think that most of you appreciate it.

At the end of the day, it's my children who make me the person I am today.  It's because of my journey with them that I have something to write about.  It's their love that makes the trials and tribulations of motherhood worth every damn jar of poop the lab requires.  As always I will continue to write from my heart and shoot from my hip.  That's what Absolute Mommy is all about, and I pretty positive that you will love me anyway.

Poop in a Jar

Oh the joys of motherhood. 

Today I had to take poop in a jar back to the lab.  In a word disgusting.  Don't worry though, I put it in a bright purple gift bag to make it fancy.  If you can fancy poop in a jar.

I have to return tomorrow with poop on cards.  Oh yeah, the glamorous life I lead.  I would have taken them today, but we had 3 different cards that required 3 different poops.  No this isn't a joke.  So waiting in the wings was card three...

And guess when my darling daughter decided to poop?  Yeah, while I was mid chew at dinner. 

Third card is finished and the poop on the cards are ready for drop off.

Oh the joys of motherhood...

Happy Blogging,

Going Corporate

In my teenage years the idea of going "Corporate" would have sent me running to the nearest punk show.  I hated all things corporate, aside from Vans shoes and Fat Wreck Chords.  I was so far from "corporate" in my mind.  I sang along with the ska songs about the "man" holding me down.  What?  When I think back on it I laugh.  What man?  At 18 I had a plan - I was going to Berkeley to study Political Science with an emphasis in Women's studies - uh yeah.  I don't even recognized her!  Today I am the person that the Descendants sang about in Suburban Home.  Google it.  It's a hilarious song about being "classified and stereotyped".  I used to sing that song at the top of my lungs because I knew it wouldn't happen to me.  Well guess what?

I'm a stay at home mom.  I worship all things CORPORATE.  Like my Apple iPhone, I am addicted to Starbucks, and I'm currently typing on an HP.  My husband drives a gas guzzling SUV and (gasp!) he's a red blooded, Reagan loving, REPUBLICAN.  I know, I still can't believe it myself.  What I'm saying is that unlike my 18 year old self, I've learned that going corporate isn't so bad.  Most of the time. 

Imagine my surprise when 2 Corporate giants let me down this week.  I've been relying on being Corporate so long that I got really pissed about the whole situation.  Here is why sometimes going CORPORATE SUCKS!! 

Dear Pampers, F&*k you!  Sincerely, Megan C. 
Pampers have changed the design of their Pampers Cruisers.  Sure the new diapers look cute and have cute, almost Pokemon in appearance, Sesame Street Characters on the butt.  Awesome, if it can do it's job and actually absorb like it's previous counterpart.  IT DOES NOT!  From a previous post you will know that we have been "swimming" in shit for the last week.  So when this adorable little diaper did nothing to stop the flow on Saturday afternoon, I lost, well I lost my shit.  I wanted to call Pampers and ask "Are you eff-ing kidding me??".

I didn't call them, instead I called my friend Jaci, who is a Pampers Purist.  She will not use any other brand of diapers  You could off her a million dollars to try Luvs and she would tell you to shove it.  Imagine my surprise when she said she absolutely hated the new Cruisers.  So much in fact that she had a note on her calendar to call them on Monday.  If you know my friend Jaci then you will agree that she probably had created an event on her iPhone as well.  But that is why I love her because she gets to the bottom (OK, pun kind of intended) of things.

Long story short, Pampers apologized to her and offered to send her a check to reimburse her for the 2 boxes she had purchased.  She made sure to emphasize to the person at Pampers that she would no longer be a Pampers customer, and they should know that they will be getting more calls.  The more pressing issue in my book is why fix something that isn't broke?  Seriously if moms all over the world (OK the US) aren't calling in frantically because they are now swimming in shit, then why re-make the wheel?  It boggles my mind that you would mess with something as perfect as a Pampers Cruiser.  Do I sound like a crazy person?  Well me and poop don't mix.  So when poop is leaking from a diaper that isn't doing it's job it makes me a little crazycakes.

Dear General Mills, It's not Gluten Free if you can't maintain a GLUTEN FREE FACILITY! Regards, Doubled over in Pain!!!
I've been in some serious pain for awhile.  I've re-vamped my Gluten Free diet a million times in the last 8 months or so.  I've even cut out dairy.  Somehow I was continually having a gluten reaction.  Pain, hours in the bathroom, and a migraine of epic proportions.  What could it be?  I had no clue, so my mom and I started talking about all the new things I've been eating in the last year.  Like Udi's GF bread, GF Bisquick, and my Starbucks that I have increased intake of because of the little people inhabiting my home.  So with those in mind I turned to my trusty computer and my favorite Internet friend Google.  Guess what I found?

My supposed GLUTEN FREE Bisquick is not made in a "dedicated" facility.  I found this through lots of GF blogs where people were posting about their own gluten reactions.  Every time they enjoyed their Sunday pancakes, they were then suffering from the effects of gluten.  If you aren't a GF person then you can't fully appreciate a "dedicated" facility.  It means that they produce only GF products.  Which makes them safe for GF peeps like me.  If you produce GF food in a facility that you produce other products in then you get cross contamination.  Cross contamination is a big bitch.  She creeps in and makes an otherwise great GF meal, poison.  So, what I have been suffering is a visit from cross contamination.  It's a chance you take when you eat foods that read gluten free in the ingredients, but are not "certified" gluten free.  Sucks, because I really enjoyed those GF pancakes and the fact I could buy the mix at Vons. 

So now I'm going to have to visit my other corporate friend, Whole Foods, to pick up some "certified" GF pancake mix, that was made in a "dedicated" facility.  I love Whole Foods and not just because she sells my favorite GF oreos (Kinnikinnck- Kinni-Toos).  I love Whole Foods because she tries to pretend she isn't corporate.  Like if she sells free range this and organic that then she isn't a slave to the man. 

Just like I put on my old punk cds when I'm alone in the car (ignoring the fact that I'm drinking Starbucks).  The reason I refuse to jump parties just because I married (gasp again!) a republican and sometimes drive my kiddos around in the Eco-hating SUV. 

Whatever, corporate makes the world go round.  If it wasn't for Disney or NickJr, I wouldn't have even finished these thoughts. 

Happy Blogging,

Mother of the Year!

The other night after a fun and exciting week of sickness, I was cracking up at my friend Jen on Facebook.  She just started a blog of her own which I love.  It's called "Dear Nathalie, Love Mom" and it's short and sweet letters to her daughter.  My reason for cracking up, wasn't her blog, but her Facebook post.  It was midnight and her post said "My five year old is still awake. #motheroftheyear."  Hilarious because we have all nominated our self as mother of the year at one time or another.  I nominate myself for mother of the year on a pretty consistent basis.  Let me be clear that this is not an award I want.  Yet, mother of the year is a chance to sigh and laugh and take pleasure in the fact that you will have more opportunities to mess up your child in the years to come.  That for most of us they won't remember these mess ups because they are blinded by their love for us.  Why else would they continually cry for you after you just yelled at them and put them in time out? 
Reason I should get Mother of the Year - choose your favorite

Oreos for breakfast. 
Typical on mornings where Facebook and PerezHilton are far more interesting than Ming Ming and the damn phone that won't stop ringing.  For the love of God answer that phone!!!  Oreos for breakfast when I'm trying to cook an actual breakfast and my one year old is literally trying to crawl up my body like a rat.  Oreos for breakfast when I just need to wash my hair so the other moms at the gymnastics class think I'm well groomed and somewhat put together.  Oreos for breakfast when I'm out of peanut butter cups.

Soda in sippy cups
See Oreos for breakfast for reference

Waiting until the last minute to take a child to the doctor
My favorite story - 2 Christmases ago Caitlin walked around with a cough and complained for a week.  It wasn't until the following week when she complained of an earache that I actually took her to a doctor.  The diagnosis?  Bronchitis and a double ear infection.  AWESOME - and the award goes to?  Uh yeah ME!

No bedtime at all
My children do not have a bedtime because I have been to lazy to institute one.  Sue me.  My children are both co-sleepers - add another nomination for that one.  Again sue me.  Until you deal with a child who stopped naps at 18 months and has refused to sleep alone her entire 4 years of life, you have no idea.  If I didn't sleep with one or both of my kids I would never sleep.  Then I would go crazy.  More crazy than now.  Believe me you do not want that!!

I love McDonalds!
Fast Food was created for women who know how to cook but find other things to do.  I love fast food and I can't even eat it.  What better way to say I love you than to present a meal that comes with a cool (albeit cheap) toy.  McDonalds have saved the day on many occasion.  I will not pass judgement on Ronald McDonald and his fortress of fat. 

TV Rules!!
No TV will not kill my child.  It won't destroy her brain or make it rot.  My TV is on all day and I don't feel bad about it.  Both my children have had the benefit of learning Mandarin Chinese from our TV, so take that fancy preschool.  We are learning shapes, numbers, and the alphabet.  You can bet your ass that your parents would have had the TV on 24hours a day if there was NickJr 30 years ago.  So what.  My kids have also watched Glee, Twilight, Family Guy, and Keeping up with the Kardashians.  Kourtney Kardashian taught Caitlin where babies come from, and I will happily thank her. 

Starbuck is my last vice.  In my 33 years I have given up bread and bagels, cigarettes, and alcohol.  Iced Tea, Dr. Pepper, and caffeine in general is my last vice.  My last stab at actual addiction.  I will not feel bad about Starbucks, so if that means I'm buying 2 additional talls to enjoy a moment of serenity, fine.  They never drink the whole thing and that just leaves the rest for me.  A true win-win situation in my book.

Bribes, bribes, and more bribes
If you don't bribe your child, then God bless you and your wisdom.  The art of the bribe is not lost on me, or my girls.  Please do xyz and you will get abc.  Every time you potty on the potty you get these M&Ms.  If you go to gymnastics class and don't cry then we can go to Starbucks.  Please don't throw yourself on the ground in Target at this moment and Mommy promises to buy you a cake pop, a tall black tea sweetened, and the $80 My Little Pony set.  Bribes - they make parenting look easy.

Little White Lies
The white lies that you tell your kid to make your life easier.  Can we go to free play at ballet today?  No they are closed.  It's Tuesday.  Can we have chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast?  Oh Mommy doesn't know how to make those - only Daddy can make them and he is working.  Can you buy me the new (pony/princess/Disney) whatever?  Sure for Christmas.  The possibilities are endless.

I'm sure I'm forgetting some good ones, but that's the best part of Mother of the Year.  The job is never ending.  At some point you will be crowned and get to enjoy the rein.  Until then, I'll be sitting here with my tiara, waiting for my next competition. 

Happy Blogging,

Reposted today to link up with J&M's Eye Candy and the
Help a Momma Out Link Party.Thanks for stopping by!

Germs! Yuck!

Since Friday at least one person in this family has been spending loads of time in the bathroom.  We have some germs roaming around this place.  My turn is today, but I'm still "on duty" so I decided to check my Facebook and maybe share some real gems about this week so far.  Warning - it's yuck. 

No one likes their child to be sick.  It sucks.  They are crying and feeling yucky and they still don't get the "warning signs" so it's a gamble on whether they will make it to the bathroom.  Like I said it sucks.  I was under the impression that WE were getting BETTER.  Sadly, my poor Caity was still doubled over like a yoga position crying about a stomach ache.  DAMN.  So yesterday, we packed up and went to the doctor.

OK, here is the thing about my pediatrician.  You are going to laugh and poke fun, and say what a dummy, but so what.  My pediatrician is approximately 40 minutes from my house.  That would equate in Fresno to 3 different highway interchanges.  Why in the world would I do this to myself?  Well when Caitlin was still in utero, I did my research to make sure it would not take 23 years to get a Celiac diagnosis.  I would not let her go through what I went through for so many years.  Dr. Alper was highly recommended and her husband is a leading gastrointerologist at the Children's Hospital right in my backyard.  OK, so more like 40 minutes in the other direction.  Still, I love her to pieces!  Dr. Alper is efficient and doesn't wait to test for anything, be it reflux, kidney issues, or Celiac disease.  She also is supportive in the decisions I make as a mother.  After an appointment when Caitlin was all of 4 months old, after a full 48 hours of little sleep and lots of crying, I was at my wits end.  There was nothing wrong with Caitlin.  No fever, no teething, no bladder infection, no respiratory issues.  I tearfully thanked Dr. Alper and apologized for "waisting her time".  She looked me straight in the eye and said, "You're doing a great job mom.  Hang in there".  It was just what I needed at the time.

So Caitlin and I were off.  Early so we could avoid traffic snarls.  I was still hoping that we were on the "getting better" end of these germs.  The nurse called us back after a 30 minute wait.  To let us know that Caitlin needed to pee in a cup.  If you know me and my Caitlin then you know the lengths I have gone to to get her to pee in a cup.  There is no bribe big enough.  So we tried and tried.  With me sitting on the germ infested floor, my hand literally touching the side of the germ infested toilet bowl.  YUCK!  I could feel the germs crawling on me like they do Brobee on Yo Gabba Gabba.  I was actually singing "We are the tiny ugly germs" in my head.  And of course, NO PEE!

Since there are still 2 patients ahead of us we go out to the car to get her drink, which is an Iced Tall Sweetened Black tea from Starbucks.  Yes you read that correctly.  You don't even want to know the looks I was getting.  Well of course - I was sitting with my 4 YEAR OLD IN A DOCTORS OFFICE AND SHE IS DRINKING A STARBUCKS.  OK so giving Caitlin Starbucks is not a secret to most people who know me and my kid.  It was still a secret to the doctors, nurses, and strangers in a DOCTORS OFFICE. 

Finally we get called again.  Another failed pee in the cup - with me trying to disinfect my dress hem.  As I'm telling the nurse about our situation ( which involved poop, it's varying colors, consistencies, and times per day - yeah super effing glamorous) I can hear my phone buzzing in my purse.  Nurse leaves, I check the phone.  It's my mom, who is home with Mac.  I call back, and get the news that now Mac is shitting her brains out as well.  FABULOUS!  Mom gives me the deets - again so glamorous I should be in a Kardashian episode.  Finally the doctor comes in and bless her heart, she listens to me talk poop about not one child but 2.  She listens intently and then says the words I'm sure are the most horrifying words any parent could hear after being up to their eyeballs in shit.  STOOL SAMPLES.  You. Must. Be. Joking.

I have to confess that this isn't my first time having to pick up a stool sample kit.  This is my 3rd collection with Caitlin.  I know, I know, AWFUL.  If you have had to do this you know it's not the business.  Our instructions from Dr. Alper are: push fluids, NO MILK (awesome), and here is your work order for FOUR different collections.  Did I mention how glamorous I am?

Now for the best part of my day - the lab in the building is in the same office as the Urgent care.  You have to wait to see a lab tech just like you would to see an doctor.  WTF?  It gets better, there are 2 ahead of us.  The wait?  About 30 minutes.  I waited only 10 of those 30 minutes because a man walked in with his wife who was puking uncontrollably.  The same wife who left the room to puke in the bushes outside the door.  That was my cue to leave.  We have enough germs, thank you very much!

A stop at Walgreen's for supplies (pedilite - they hated, Gatorade - they loved, 7-up just because) I finally pulled into the driveway at 4:59 pm.  Mac was a little whiny, but ready for the 7-up.  Caitlin was exhausted.  I was raw.  Did I mention that we never peed in a cup?  Yeah - still no pee!  My mom, who if I have never said before is the most selfless, loving, life saving, life giving, loving mother, offers to stay until my husband gets home from work.  As if on cue, he text messages me that the BIG BOSS is in town.  The boss he still hasn't met.  The boss he needs to have dinner with.  And now cue my tears.  He calls and I'm crying and he says, I'll come home, but I know how important this dinner is and I say go - mom's staying - go.  And I don't even know why I'm crying.  Maybe because both kids are sick and I can't make it go away.  Maybe because I couldn't make her pee in a cup.  Maybe because my mom has been at my house since 11am.  Maybe because I'm just exhausted.

My Mom stayed super late.  Even though John the hubby, got home earlier than expected.  As if I wasn't batting a thousand as a mother yesterday, I let the girls play on the grass that John just sprayed with weed killer.  Yeah, he had said to keep them off the grass for 24 hours.  I forgot, until Caitlin started itching and breaking out in hives.  NICE.  I'll just add it to my list of "Mother of the Year" accomplishments.  Along with the Starbucks and Oreos for breakfast. 

These are adventures of motherhood.  Glamorous.  Life changing.  Sick and twisted, if you ask me.  I think it's my turn today to deal with the germs.  YUCK, but thought I would share since I'm sure you have stories of your own.  I'm sure they are equally horrifying.  I'm sure they are just as exhausting.  At least I'm just sharing this story and not the GERMS!

Happy (and healthy, fingers crossed) Blogging,

Being Honest

I'm going to be honest and say THANKS to everyone who read and critiqued and edited (school teachers, lol) my last blog.  It was refreshing and eye opening.  Can you believe after 33 years I was still trying to fit into someone else's mold.  I know, right?  If you know me at all you know that the mold was broke with me. 

In another effort at being honest, I rewrote the entire thing.  This time I was more me and less them.  I was also more honest. 

So this is honestly why I'm friends with this woman.  This is honestly the blog that I'm going to enter.  Because if I honestly have to write or rewrite it again, I'm going to throw this computer...

Happy Blogging,

A life without Krysten?

I wouldn't make it.

When I was lost and drowning  in self doubt.  At the end of my rope and isolated by motherhood, Krysten saved me.  She said, You don't have to love it, you just have to love your baby. 
In the beginning we bonded over poopy diapers, creative ways to occupy a toddler (Oreos), and Grey's Anatomy.  Now we call to recap Glee or Cougar Town.  Sure the kids are screaming in the background, but that's why we use bribes.  How many minutes can I buy with this Oreo?
Krysten set my idea of motherhood ablaze.  Never judging, she's more interested in the last True Blood episode than if my kids ate a good lunch.  And yeah, it was hotdogs... but did you see Eric's abs?? 
Recently we had the most amazing and hilarious conversation via text message.  It was11 o'clock at night, and I was co-sleeping with my toddler.  I don't know what she was doing.  I was laughing too hard to ask.
I can call Krysten, anytime, just to complain.  She listens, lets me get it all out, and then reminds me I could have quints.
What 3 things would I bring on a deserted isle?  Big Sunglasses, Starbucks, Krysten.  She would bring her Nook, Vodka, and peanut M&Ms.  It's that simple.
She didn't bat an eye when I needed her most.  She dropped everything for me.  It took one call, one question, one prayer.  All answered.
Krysten made me a believer;  in myself, in motherhood, and in friendship.
She has influenced the most important part of my life by being herself.  No more, no less.   
A life without Krysten?  I might survive, but I wouldn't have any fun...
And that is no surprise.

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Indulge me?

Ok.  I'm super nervous to be doing this!  However, I've been reading Tina Fey's book (slowly but surely) and there is a part in which she talks about writing sketch comedy.  Here is the quote that I just can't shake:

"You have to let people see what you wrote.  It will never be perfect, but perfect is overrated.  Perfect is boring on live TV".

Obviously, I have been letting people read my writing.  Duh, I'm blogging and then I post my link to Facebook, then I stalk people to make sure they are reading it.  So what am I so super nervous about? The WRITING CONTEST. 

I'm going to enter 3 this summer.  Every year I read the winner in a magazine, and think, I could write just as well at this person.  I have a funny, or important, or emotional story to tell.  Without fail, every year I talk myself out of it.  I get nervous, like I'm totally sweating right now, and I talk myself out of it.  I tell myself that I'm just some novice.  That what I write is of vague importance.  That I'm super boring, but have this super ego who thinks she's funny and witty and clever.  And before I know what hit me, I talk myself out of entering.

Not this time.  I started this blog for a reason.  I love to write.  I have always loved to write.  So I took a chance and started this blog.  I have some great readers and HOPE to build this blog into a book or a job. 

So I'm taking a chance and I want YOU all to help.  I'm going to post below, in a different font, my first entry.  It's a blogging contest for Real Simple Magazine, and it can only be 300 words.  From my previous rambling you know this was a HUGE challenge for me.  The theme is someone you are surprised to be friends with.  The person I picked may surprise you because we have known each other for years.  Our friendship however, our closeness, is something just a few years old.  I'm surprised because it developed with such ease and it feels like it's always been this way. 

So please read, and then please CRITIQUE.  Seriously, the good, bad and the ugly!  I'm counting on you guys.  Otherwise I'm just going to talk myself out of it, and continue to hide behind my blog. 

Happy Blogging,

A life without Krysten?
I wouldn't make it.
In a life filled with challenges and doubt.  She surprised me with a friendship that erased all doubt.
She is younger, but wiser.
She has faith that I cannot measure.
She made me a believer;  in myself, in motherhood, and in friendship.
She was my game changer!  She set my idea of motherhood ablaze.
We bonded over poopy diapers, creative ways to occupy a toddler (Oreos), and Grey's Anatomy.
When I had lost myself.  Drowning in self doubt.  Isolated by motherhood.  She said, You don't have to love it.  You just have to love your baby.
We recently had the most amazing conversation via text message.  At 11 o'clock at night.  While I was co-sleeping with my one year old.  I have no idea what she was doing, other than cracking me up. 
I can call her, anytime, just to complain.  She listens, lets me get it all out, and then reminds me I could have quints.
She has never judged me or the kind of mother I am.  Which is so refreshing.  In a world driven by expert parenting books and "know it all" Mommas, it's nice to have someone on my side.
 What 3 things would I bring on a deserted isle?  Big Sunglasses, Starbucks, Krysten.  She would bring her Nook, Vodka, and peanut M&Ms.  It would be that simple. 
She didn't bat an eye when I needed her most.  Has anyone dropped everything for you?  It took one call, one question, one prayer.  All answered.
She has influenced the most important part of my life by being the type of friend most claim to be.
Krysten is exactly who she says she is, no more, no less.   
And that is no surprise.

Absolute Funk!

I must confess that I am in an Absolute Funk!  For the last 2 weeks I have been Angry Mommy, Pissed off Mommy, Screaming Mommy, Tired Mommy, Irritated Mommy, and my favorite Bitchy Mommy.  I can't for the life of me shake it.  I have no idea why.  It's like everything in my life, driving on the street, shopping in Target, or working at my favorite Starbucks has me acting like a crazy person.

Ok here are a few of the things that have been driving me bonkers.  First and foremost my 4 year old.  I love her to pieces, but she is her mothers daughter.  Since she turned for she has been in a constant state of PMS and so have I.  A few days ago she woke up whining and crying.  I heard her going on and on, in the whining voice that I absolutely LOVE (sarcasm!), about how awful it was that she couldn't eat cake pops for breakfast.  Mind you, she hadn't even asked or even gotten out of bed.  It was seriously not even 8 am.  I knew it was going to be a long day!

Another thing that has been driving me up the wall is the fact that my one year old has taken to screaming when she is not being held, carried, coddled, or cuddled.  So pretty much all the time.  She has this scream that sounds like Thomas the Tank engine's whistle on steroids.  It's like nails on a chalk board.  I try and try to placate with anything else in the world, but nothing works.  She just wants me to hold her.  So last week she had Oreos before breakfast so I could cook breakfast.  Orange Soda in the afternoon so I could do the dishes that were now covering the sideboard.  Chocolate chips at 5:30 so I could try in vain to make one dinner everyone would eat.

So you're probably thinking I have the worst behaved kids in the universe.  Yeah, I'm thinking that too.  I'm so frustrated because I feel like I've lost control.  Lost my grip on parenting reality.  When did they turn into little monsters and when did I turn into bitch of the year.  I swear all I have done for 2 weeks is yell at them.  WHY ARE WE CRYING?  WHAT ARE YOU SCREAMING ABOUT?  WHY CAN'T YOU JUST EAT THESE OREOS?  Not my Momma Best if you know what I mean.

How do I break this cycle?  I have no idea.  I've been trying to TIME OUT, instead of yelling.  It's not working that great.  When Caitlin turns on the whining, I ask her 3 times to stop, if it continues TIME OUT.  It's a start, right?  With Mac, I have not idea.  She doesn't even understand how to use a straw properly, will she really understand the mechanics of time out?

And now for the biggest reason for my FUNK... I'm so sad and guilt ridden that I'm taking this funk out on my kiddos.  It's not their fault that I'm tired and frustrated.  Ok, so they cause some of it, but I know there are lots of moms who don't lash out at the kids.  I'm in a funk, because I want a little sliver of time for myself.  I want to blog more.  I have 3 writing contests I want to enter, but my concentration is zilch!  I have a new Kindle sitting there, laughing at me, because I haven't had the chance to enjoy it.  I have piles and piles of laundry, that is clean, but certainly not put away.  I have a sink of endless dishes.  So no, I won't have anytime to myself.  Oh and I almost forgot, I have kids that need some serious behavior boot camp.  Looks like my husband should have just saved that Kindle for Christmas, since that's the earliest it's going to get used.

Say a prayer for me my dear readers.  That I can whip these girls into shape.  That I can whip myself into shape.  I'm in a FUNK.  It sucks.  I don't want to be Mean Mommy.  It's the worst title ever.  I don't even want to be Worlds Greatest Mommy.  I just want to be Mommy.  Who loves the kids no matter how much they whine, who can sometimes sneak away to pee (alone), and who can take the heat!  I want to be myself again...

Here's to a fresh start, freshly dyed roots, and hopefully a Trenta Black tea in my future.  Also I'm leaving the Kindle in the bathroom, sure I'm in the shower (ha ha).  Oh, and I got to blog.  All in 30 minutes or less.  It's not a cure for this funk, but it's a start!

Happy Blogging,

Desperate Housewife

I'm a desperate housewife.  Every day.  Consistently.  It doesn't take much for one to become a desperate housewife.  It's not as glamorous as it sounds.  There are no hot lawn boys.  There are no nannies.  There are no personal chefs.  No my friends, in my neighborhood, the desperate housewives are desperate for other things...
I'm desperate for a minute.  To myself, by myself, in other words alone.  Did I mention I want to spend time alone?  Lately I can't even pee alone.  You know what I'm talking about.  There is not one spare minute where I'm not up to my eyeballs in parenting.  So please pretty please a moment to pee, breathe, eat, sigh, read one stinking line of a book???
I'm desperate for my own housewife.  Yes, that's right.  I want a housewife at my own disposal.  I hate housework.  I loathe housework.  My house is constantly messy.  Dr. Seuss in the pantry.  My Little Ponies on the kitchen table.  As we speak a doll stroller next to me at the computer.  Oh yes, I did pick all of these items today and put them in their places.  Somehow, the oozed back into the living room, kitchen, bathroom, and computer desk.  Where is my housewife when I need her?
I'm desperate for one good night's sleep.  Just one.  Where I can sleep uninterrupted and wake up on my own.  I don't want to hear crying babies.  I don't want my 4 year old alarm clock to start whining on why we can't have chocolate cake for breakfast.  I want to go to sleep, IN MY BED, and wake up when I want. 
I'm desperate for a day off.  A mental health day if you will.  A day to read a book, watch a TrueBlood marathon, sleep the day away, and blog.  A day to save my sanity.  I want a day to do what I want to do, and not have to think about anyone else but me.  Sound selfish?  Sure it does.  So what, I'm desperate.
I'm desperate for a makeover.  I want to be on "What not To Wear".  I want someone to tell me what a SAHM of two, looks like.  It's sure doesn't look like the ladies of Wisteria Lane.  I'm desperate for a chance to look glamorous again.  To look human again.  Last time I checked pop-tarts, spit-up, and cheerios were not all the rage at Fashion Week.
I'm desperate for more time to spend on this blog.  More hours in the day.  A laptop perhaps.  I'm desperate to be good at being a mom.  Desperate to be semi-good at being a house wife.  Desperate to be my best self.
I'm a desperate housewife, who is grateful to have things to be desperate about.  Thankful that one day I'll get those moments alone.  Those days to myself.  The good night's sleep.  One day I'll miss being a desperate housewife.  Especially since I'll have to find new things to complain about...
Happy Blogging,

The 5th of July

What a let down right.  After all of the celebrating we do for America, we have to get up the next day and carry on.  Status quo.  Yuck!

Our 4th was packed with family and fun.  Swimming and ice cream and baseball.  Totally AMERICAN!  It was great.  The girls and I were in the pool ALL day.  Of course it was the only place to be beside the 108 degree plus patio. 
Keep swimming!  I couldn't get her out of her.  NOT EVEN WITH SODA BRIBES!!

Hello.  Happy 4th!  I'm a flag waving Crutchfield. 

Look at my two happy little girls.  I begged and bribed them to get out of the water!  Soda? No. Ice cream? No.  Fireworks? OK!

Ice cream + sparklers = Happy Caitlin

I have no idea what these flashy things are, but they sure are cool!

No longer scared of the "fire"
Great day.  Great party.  Great 4th.  What is really special about the 4th is that it truly is a measurement of growth.  This is my 11th year celebrating the 4th with John.  Yes, ELEVENTH!!  I feel old and blessed at the same time.  We've come a long way baby.  From skinny dipping and booze bashes to sparklers and ice cream cones and princess pools.  Even though my hard partying days are mostly behind me, I have new reasons to celebrate every year.  This year Caitlin LOVED the fireworks, instead of crying like the past years.  This year Mackenzie stayed in the pool all day!  Added plus - she didn't burn.  If you've seen her then you know she is the whitest quarter Mexican around. 

So today is a rehab day.  A day to let my kids wear pajamas until 4pm.  A day to lay around an watch the Fresh Beats, Yo Gabba Gabba, and Good Luck Charlie all day.  To nurse my holiday hangover all day.  And since I don't drink anymore, it's saying something that I feel like I fell into a vat of vodka.

Hope you had a great 4th.  Hope you were as American as you could be.  Did you have a great 5th as well, or are you a little let down like me?  Oh well, next year!
Ready for the show!
Happy Blogging,