Jewish families, do you have room for one more?

e: How many days is Christmas?
m: Just one, we have celebrations Christmas Eve too, but Christmas is really only one day.
e: How many days is Hanukkah?
m: eight
e: [california surfer cool guy tone] Oh, Yeah. Sweet.

Graduate School

e: daddy, can you put a pony in Julie's [doll] hair?
r: yeah, here.....
[making pony]
e: dad, that's not a very good pony
r: I did the best I could, Dads aren't usually very good at that sort of thing.
e: well, you'd better go back to college and learn how to do ponies then!

Honestly, I tried:

The plan: get big-boy-bed, take down crib. So.....while daddy was shoveling (would have been nice to know it'd be 34degrees the next day and the snow would have gracefully dripped off the driveway..oops) I was busy taking the crib apart....or a least trying. Took out the mattress, emptied the drawer, took off the sliding side.....and then it happened. I cried. I couldn't do it. Soooo.......I didn't. G now has a $600 stuffed animal shelf.

6:15 am: G: Mama, me luffff eewwwww!!

Where's #100?

. . . Copy and paste this to your blog and bold the ones that you HAVE done.

1. Started your own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band (does jr. high count??)
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than you can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang a solo
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown your own vegetables
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitch hiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught yourself a new language
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had your portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie/commercial/tvshow
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten Caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Read the entire Bible
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Lost a loved one
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee

m: ella & grant, why is it so quiet up there?
e: Because! We're just goofing around like an elephant in a big butt-crack!

(I swear I don't make this stuff up)

e: when is going to be christmas? I really feel like having presents in my stocking.

G-Man:

"yeah...you know it"

"this is the very worst day of my life"

"me football guy!"

g: mmmmm! nummy in me belly button!

Mama got a brand new title:

....I can now add "Award Winning Blogger" to my resume. Thanks Jules, for making me more marketable during these tough times....I'm sure the nomination will land me a stellar job in lane 7. (link to award through logo)

The true meaning of Gynecologists:

Around Christmas 2005 I paid a routine visit to my OB/GYN, Dr. Junnila at Park Nicollet/Carlson...I was pregnant with Grant at the time so I got out of the all too uncomfortable downstairs exam. I was there to listen to the baby's heart, step on the scale and get my belly measured. As per usual Dr. Junnila and I talked about all things unrelated to women's health; politics, weather, the kids, the dogs, his latest travel adventures (he's always tan)...etc. This particular visit he asked me what my favorite Christmas movie was. That was easy, One Magic Christmas and National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation of course. He said he loved One Magic Christmas as well....we talked a bit about the film as he was probably the only person I knew that actually knew about or liked that sappy movie. I shared my disappointment that my only copy was VHS and I had watched it so many times the tape was worn out and I couldn't share it with my kids. Dr. J said that his son could maybe get me a copy on DVD, that he was 'young and into all that technology stuff.' That Christmas passed, as did Christmas 2006 and 2007. Here we are, three years later and in today's mail was an envelope addressed to me, with no return address and no postage. Inside was a homemade DVD labeled 'One Magic Christmas' and a post-it note that read "Merry Christmas from Santa." Three years later, Dr. Junnila took the time to not only think of me, but to drive to my house and prove to me that there really are a few good people left in this world....even if they are the same people that look at your cervix one a year.

dirty boy

g: mama, me likey to dig in me butt!

Any chance you could make room for mommy??

is this what I get for "going out" on a wednesday night??

Potty-Training Report:

First day at school with underpants: No accidents! (yet)

Underpants!!!

Today is Day Three. So far so good! He's doing awesome, only once accident thus far and it was partially mommy's fault as I didn't get him to the potty in time, we won't count that....so we're 3 for 3!! Way to go Buddy! ...as for the nuk....well, one thing-at-a-time folks....

Dear my sweet son,
4:30am is NOT morning. the sun is sleeping. mommy is sleeping. daddy is sleeping. the dogs and your sister are sleeping. you NEED to be sleeping as well. we CANNOT continue to get up, get you milk and a cereal bar and turn on the tv all before 4:32 am. really, this is not working out. Please reconsider, for the sake of your family's sanity....and NO you still cannot see my boobies even IF you say "peese."
Love, mama

On Boys:

I am convinced that when the nurse whisks away the boys to be circumcised not only are they having their penis' altered (I know, I know, I'm sorry...please don't hate me) they are hooking them up to some kind of "boy machine." It has to be. How else does my 2-year old know what a jeep is (yes, the real kind, the wrangler--JEEP! JEEP!), make vrroom sounds while pushing a matchbox car (or really anything for that matter), picks up sticks and says pew-pew, pow-pow, shoot!, says things like "me have pee-pee" "haha, me tooted on you mommy!" "me see mama's boobies??" "Look, mama, a concrete mixer!!"..........I'm assuming the Boy Machine has levels, like Kinda Boyish with an occasional cry, Pure Boy who still loves his Mama, and All Marine Complete with Tattoo. For those that weren't circ'd, maybe they got 'plugged in' when they do that hearing test (how the heck can you test a 2 day old's hearing anyhow...they don't stop crying long enough to listen)...."Mama! me touch my poopie!" boys. ahem. ...and for the record, NO, you CANNOT see mama's boobies. sorry dude.

On Death Part III:

e: Mom, I just don't get it.
e: I just don't get it.
m: get what honey?
e: I don't get it. when people die, how do they get to the church?
m: It's really pretty hard to understand. Basically, they die someplace...at a hospital or at their house, and a car takes them to the church, then to the cemetery where they bury the person's body in the ground....but the person's heart, their brain...their "person" goes to heaven to be with jesus (I myself have some rational doubts about this, but feel that I should lead my child in some direction)
e: but how does the person get to the church?
m: in the car that drives people who are dead to the places they need to go
e: so, does the car do anything else beside driving dead people?
m: no, that's its' only job.
e: what do they call that kind of car?
m: it's called a hearse.
e: oh....ok.

on death part 1, on death part 2

On Physical Education:

Dear Ella's Psychotic Mom,
Your daughter needs tennis shoes in order for her to participate in P.E. class. School has been in session for nearly three months now, she has been coming to my class with out shoes twice each week....can you get your crap together and send her in some appropriate footwear?
Sincerely,
P.E. Teacher

Dear P.E. Teacher,
First off, could you send one of those square scooters home with Ella? Aside from occasionally running over my fingers--I just loved those things and would really enjoy riding one down my street. As for the shoes, here's the deal: my daughter is lying. She has had a perfectly appropriate pair of tennis shoes in her locker since day one. She has a thing about shoes....and socks....and jeans....and ponytails....and crumply papers.....among a slew of other things. She doesn't like the tennis shoes because they are "not beautiful." I too, don't think they are very beautiful, so I can't blame her. We've talked about the situation and she has "promised" me she'll remember that she, in fact, does have gym shoes and socks. Please let me know if the shoes still don't make it to class, I can look into adding sequins or glitter to them, that might help.
Sincerely,
That Mom.

Change '08

Christina the Stylist:
"I almost cried as I cut it, but I didn't want to tell you....
we cut 10" off...it really is cute, you'll love it!"

**Follow-up to this, I don't love it. I've tried out about 10 different styling options now....and still...it's not great....cute maybe, but not me.....stay tuned for the real me in about 25 months**

Lots more pics!

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=47352&l=1b923&id=692341237

It's tough being five:

e: today was really exhausting....we did A LOT of voting. We voted on the best season and winter won!

On being "Room Mom":

Not that I needed another thing to do, I am now one of three "Room Moms" for Ella's kindergarten class. Yes, I work 40 hours/week, hold the President's seat of the Non-Profit Board, Chair the fundraising committee, feed, clothe and bath my kids everyday, make a ginormous attempt at keeping my marriage together, attend almost every home party I'm invited to...all while managing some semblance of sanity....did I mention I drive 50+ miles each day??...oh, the sanity, that's a total joke. I'm not sane. Just really busy. Anyhow, last friday was my first shot at this room mom gig...it went well! Thanks to Ms. Elling's hard work and patience with her 5 year-olds, we had 19 little people that did what they were supposed to do when they were supposed to do it and still had loads fun!! ...and best of all I loved being called: "Hey, Ella's mom!"

Halloween 2008

It's Fall!...or is it winter?

38 Degrees? Let's go to the Apple Orchard!

The good witch and her puppy:

Quiet kids are never good kids:

sleepover secrets:

e: (from the bathroom while sleepover/neighbor friend Montana is in family room) Mom, could you come here a moment please? (usually goes like this--MOM!!!! I NEED YOU TO WIPE MY TUSHIE!!!!! NOW PLEASE, I'M DONE!!!!!! MOM!!!!!)
m: What do you need?
e: Whispering: can you wipe my tush? but don't tell montana, she thinks I can wipe my own butt.
m: Oh, yeah, sure....it's our secret.

stinky baby:

e: mom, I have none angel kisses like buddy.
m: What do you mean, honey?
e: on his tummy, his angel kiss, I have none of those. (tiny birthmark near his button)
When I came out of your tummy, I was too stinky so the angels wouldn't kiss me.
m: oh, I see.
e: yeah, buddy was smelling good and the doctors cleaned him, so he got kissed from the angel.
m: oh, yes....but you got the cool scar.
e: yeah, that is cool too.

What, Me? Sick? No. Those aren't boogers all over my face, nope. And I don't have pink eye--not at all---you think my eyes are red??, no....it must be your eyes that are sick....I'm fine, totally fine--just hangin' here with my mom on a tuesday afternoon... chillin' with my bunny ears.

the world is not fair:

g: there's the sun, mama!, where the moon go, mama?
m: the moon is sleeping.
it's on the other side of the earth so that all the people on that side can go to sleep while we have daylight.
e: uhhhh [in whine tone], darn it! They get to stay up later than us?!

Home Alone: Days Three & Four

Day three: had pizza & wine with erica and allisun. did girlie stuff, nails, bridal magazines, talked politics and shopping. Slept. All by myself.

Day four: went to Ikea w/mom, organized closets, did dishes, vacuumed, updated picture frames, watched grey's, went to neighbor's b-day bash.....babies came home @ 10pm. Grant was sick, haven't slept at all since, not to mention, haven't slept by myself since.

I do love my babies, but had a lovely girl time.

Home Alone: Day Two

7:00am: wake up, only have to get self ready to leave...total breeze!
5:30pm: meet bf-jules at mall. have 2 glasses of wine, get ears pierced, try on 10 pairs of jeans-buy one pair, buy super cute red heels, get locked in macy's, contemplated stealing $100 pair of jeans, decided not to, finally was able to leave.
9:30pm: go home, feed dogs, ebay, sleep. all by myself.

Home Alone: Day One

8:00: family leaves
8:15-9:30: took a bath while watching grey's on the laptop propped up on the side of the tub
9:30-10:45: im'd friends I could have just as easily called on the telephone
10:45-6:30am: slept. all by myself.

Bill?

m: Grant, did you have a good day at bockie's (g'mas)?
g: yep.
r: what did you do?
g: play outside.
m: did you have a nap?
g: yep.
m: did you have lunch?
g: yep.
m: did you go pick ella up from school?
g: yep.
m: did you have a fun time with bockie annie?
g: yep.
r: is your name bill?
g: um...nope.

It's a beautiful day!

School Spirit!

(note: watch grant, he is SO the weird little brother)

Dearest Ella & Grant,
You ARE NOT infants. It is no longer okay for you to wake at 2, 3 and 4 am every night. Really, this is getting ridiculous. Daddy and I are tired. Ok, I know I'm the sucker who lets you come into our bed, but really, I'm only doing it so I don't have to hear "mama? mama? mama! mama, open da doooor, mama-I seep in mama's bed! I cos eyes! mama, I niiiice....mama?!" at 2, 3 and 4 am. When I do give in and you do snuggle-up in bed, just one of you, it's fine, it's cozy- I really do love it. But, when it's both of you and the two dogs, you leave me and daddy all of 3-1/2 inches of space to try and muster up a little REM. You are not thirsty. You have 4 nah-nahs in your crib. There are no monsters, remember, we have monster spray. You both have lovely bedrooms. I urge you to reconsider this plot against your parents.

With love,
Your v-e-r-y sleepy mama

Worth a thought:

"Pain is inevitable, Misery is optional, Joy is a choice."
- Pastor John Ross, Wayzata Community Church, Sunday October 5th

Emptying dishwasher CAN be quite risky....
one must ensure they wear the appropriate head gear:

dog eat dog (or cat eat mouse) world:

m: tom & jerry are awfully mean to each other, aren't they?
e: well, tom's the mean one.
he tries to get jerry all the time so jerry has to be mean back.

m: go twins!
e: where are they going?

(apparently no where)

stealth napper:

What's better than a nap on a sunday afternoon on a cool, crisp fall day?
1:00pm: Went to church, ate a lovely breakfast at McD's, finished HSM2, daddy's gone at the Twin's game....it's time for naps. Grant agrees, Ella does not. I take grant up, do the nap routine, read a book, rock, sing the song of his choice (today it was baby beluga), lay him down...sweet nappies!
Next, Ella.
m: ella, it's time to lay down for a while
e: I'm not tired, can I play polly pocket quietly in my room?
m: yes, but I'm going to take a nap and you cannot wake me up. You cannot come barging in for me to fix barbie's hair or snap on polly's tiny shoes. Do you understand?
e: k.
1:30pm: I'm out.
2:30pm:
e: mom! mom! wake up! Can I go outside?
m: no, not until I'm finished w/my nap. I told you not to wake me up.
e: but why can't I go outside.
m: because I'm sleeping. why don't you lay down, or go find a book to read, you must be tired...
e: I'm NOT TIRED!!!
m: okay, well go out of here, you're being disrespectful of my nap.
3:30pm:
Mama wakes up to absolute silence. I look over in the bed thinking ella might have laid down beside me, nope. Get up, check her room. nope, not there either. Go downstairs, check the couch, nope not there. Beginning to panic just a bit, I check the doors, they're still locked so she must be in the house somewhere. Check her room again, including under the bed and in the closet, nope. Worrying more now. Finally, head into our bathroom/closet hallway to find this:Ta-dah! (Disregard the state of the closet, it has seasonal transition disorder) Silly girl. I'm anxious for her to wake up to hear the story as to why she choose this particular nook for today's siesta....stay tuned.

an oldie but goodie:

A conversation in the car between Ryan and Ella, September 2006:
[background: I had a miscarriage 3 months before I got pregnant w/Ella. The first baby was due in January, Ella was born in May-She knows nothing of the miscarriage, we've never mentioned a word about it]

Ella: Daddy where did you get that ring?
Ryan: I got it from my Boppy (grandpa), he's in heaven now.
--silence for a bit--
Ella: Daddy, I was going to come to you and Mommy, but then I got sick and Jesus had to take me to Heaven, so I came to you in the spring instead.

She went on to tell about heaven... she said there were lots of snacks and gummi bears there.

Pretty impressive, huh? She's out of that innocent undisturbed stage now and has no recollection of this adventure with Jesus, but we're relieved to know our lost, then found, baby...whatever our religious beliefs may be.

secret #2's:

m: grant, where are you?
g: I hiding! I hiding my poopoos.

pick your friends, not your nose:

e: dad, I stopped picking my nose you know. I don't do it anymore.

The dreaded day:

below is an excerpt stolen from a fellow blogger notesfromthetrenches, and how I got thinking about the day our cribby goes to heaven (or craigslist)... and can also be found on mommy!'s blog:

Long gone are the diapers, the bottles, the sippy cups.

There are no outlet covers, cabinet locks, or stairways blocked by gates.

No more high chairs dragged around the room during meal times. No more infant car seats and baby carriers blocking the back door.

When I say time to go, people run to the car on their own volition. Sometimes they even carry my stuff for me.

Stuff that does not include a huge diaper bag, two changes of clothing, bibs, blankets and enough Cheerios to feed a daycare.

No more spit-up stained shirts or leaking milky breasts. (I was going to clarify that I just got rid of the milk, not the breasts, but as I look down at my chest I realize that no, I did actually get rid of the breasts.)

No more pacifiers worn on my finger like a ring.

Fare thee well little cribby.

After 14 years the last remnant of babyhood is gone.

---

I really can't imagine a day where I don't lay a sweet angel in the crib, count the hanging stars, sing somewhere over the rainbow and say traume etwas suss meine liebe. I will never be able to entirely part with nursery. It's all so precious, the smell, the nightlights, the tidyness. Our lovely cribby, the one imported from italy that we (by we, I mean g'ma) spent way too much on, is starting to fail us. After only 2 children, the functioning side barely works and the drawer sticks. But for now, and hopefully for a little while longer, I'll continue to fight with the slider mechanism every night and whisper kiss, kiss to my sweet baby.

all grown up:

(thanks al, for the cute dress!)

avian-entomologist:

(while mommy & ella are laying down, just after turning off the light)
m: ella, please settle down. be quiet and listen to the crickets.
e: those aren't crickets, they're chermites
m: you mean termites?
e: no, ch-ch-ch-chermites, they're a type of chirping bird
m: oh, cool, listen to those then.

Mama Confession #4:

I'm starting to like and let my kids watch Tom & Jerry. I used to be adamant that T&J never make their way to our television, I thought it was way too violent for my innocent little humans, I even went as far as hiding the DVD in the kitchen cupboard and telling Ella that it was lost (she found it when she was looking for fish food). So why have I turned? Because there is no dialogue! Just nice jazz music or violins with the occasional BOINGGG! or SPAT!!!...sure, Tom spends his days trying to kill little Jerry, but I don't have to listen to it. No, "Can we fix it BOB?" or "Meeska-Mooska!" or that annoying little bilingual brunette and her talking backpack. So, for now, when mama is Playhouse Disney'd out...bring on the anvils!

Momentous Tuesday!

Ella wore jeans AND get this--a ponytail on tuesday!!! For those of you that know Miss Ella know that she hasn't worn a pair of jeans since she was about 18 months old and has forbade me from putting a ponytail in her hair as she thinks she looks like a boy. Yeah for kindergarten and peer pressure! My guess is most of the friends wear jeans and ponytails and Ella is starting to realize that it really is the all-american style.

speechless:

Future Vegetarian:

(in regard to the 15 pounds of pork shoulder I bought at Costco)
e: mom, what is that?
m: it's pork
e: like, from a pig?
m: yes, it's from a pig
e: well, what happened to the pig after they took that out?
m: the pig died.
e: (starts crying) you mean when they take those out the pigs die?? (bawling now)
m: yes, honey.
e: but why do they have to die? (major tears and sniffling)
m: because that is what God decided. God decided that we would eat pigs and that they would die. That's called the food chain.
e: so why didn't joie and jake die when they took that out of them?
m: took what? you mean when they took out their parts to make puppies?
e: yes. why didn't they die?
m: (thinking that this is really getting deep) oh, 'cause that was just a little surgery, they didn't take that stuff out to eat.
e: oh. (still crying)

6:35 am:

g: mama! dance!!
m: what? dance?
g: yep! mama, dance, peese!

Super Sweet Sister:

Wednesday was Library day. Well, now they call it Media Room or something lame. Anyhow, Ella is allowed to "rent" as she says, two books each week. Yesterday as I took the books out of her backpack she said, "Mom, I got one for me and one for Buddy!!!....I thought he'd like the garbage truck book!" Sure enough, she "rented" a book for her little brother and at bedtime when I asked her if she wanted me to read it to her she said, "No, I got that one for Grant, not me."

Virgin Poison Control Caller:

PC: Hello, Poison Control, could you hold please?
Mama: Um, yeah, I guess. [Hold?! What? My son could be dying and you're putting me on hold?!]
pc: Poison Control, how can I help you?
m: hi, yeah, my son ate toothpaste. I think about an ounce or so. The kid's kind. but not the infant kind without flouride, the kind with flouride....and isn't it the flouride that's toxic??
pc: [whoa crazy lady, let me talk] How old is your son?
m: 27 months.
pc: Oh ok, just over two.....he ate just an ounce?
m: yeah, I think so.
pc: Oh, we don't worry about an ounce. Two ounces is the magic number when it comes to toothpaste. He'll be fine. He might vomit a few times, but nothing to worry about.
m: oh, alright, thanks for your help, I can sleep now [yes, yes, I am crazy...I already know that, but thanks]
pc: Can I get your zipcode?
m: [oh, no, they're going to put me on the same list that the fire & police have me on!!] Um....yeah.....55364. [don't ask me my name, don't ask me my name....]
pc: Thank you ma'am, have a good night.
m: yep thanks! [now go help someone who's son has swallowed a bottle of drano or ate a rat poison sandwich]

mama confession #3

I yelled. Really yelled today. More than once. I'm up for the-worst-mom-of-the-year-award after today (not bad though, considering it's september and I made it 9 months without an official nomination). Ella was trying to reason me into letting her wear flip flops, "I'll just bring them along in my back-pack" and "these shoes make me look like a boy" and "If you don't let me wear my flip-flops, I'll ruin your flowers!" and "but can I just wear them for a minute??"...on and on and on. After 2 hours in the morning and 4 hours in the evening of hearing why flip-flops should be the only shoe in production--I lost it. Totally lost it. "ENOUGH ABOUT THE FLIP-FLOPS!!! SERIOUSLY, STOP. I WILL THROW THEM IN THE GARBAGE IF I HEAR ANOTHER WORD ABOUT FLIP-FLOPS. YOU ARE NOT WEARING THEM TO SCHOOL AND IF YOU KEEP WHINING ABOUT THEM YOU WILL NOT WEAR THEM EVER AGAIN!"
oooooops.
All the while that was happening, Grant was going for the olympic time-out gold medal. Every time I turned around he attacked his sister, full-blown hit/scratch attack. She'd freak...and I mean, freak, like she may as well had just had her foot cut off....with a butter knife. Time-out. 1 minute on the naughty rug (which, for a two year old is an eternity). "Say sorry to your sister for hitting. [yelling, sort of] WE DO NOT HIT!! Hitting makes owies. You hurt Ella." g: "Sowwy Ewwa...."........and, repeat. again and again and again....."sowwwyy. Me nice." [yeah, right-you'll do it again in five minutes] and then! he thought it was funny to eject her DVD mid-scene, which means, since we are the only americans w/o a DVD player and use an old PS2 to watch movies, you need to start over at the beginning every time. Again with the cutting of the foot...three more times. I'm surprised someone didn't call the police, oh but wait, even if they had, they wouldn't have come...."oh, just the albrecht's again, probably mystery carbon monoxide or the little twerp dialed 911--just ignore it."
6:00: OMG, WHERE IS YOUR DADDY?!?! Mommy is about to lose it.
7:00: Daddy calls, going to bar for one beer with John (thanks john, just swell-super great timing)
7:45: Daddy calls, did really only have one beer (good job daddy!), Mommy says, Can you stop at the liquor store, get me 2 bottles of wine and a pack of cigarettes? no joke. it was a really, really long day.

I wonder who I'm up against for my award and what should I wear for my acceptance speech...

ps. my first official day with only one child was lovely from 9-3. As for 6-9am and 3-9pm it was awful.

It's official!

10.5 hours & counting....

'Twas the night before the first day of the rest of my life.....here come thirteen years of friends, recess, boys, gym class (or lack thereof, depending on where we are politically), italian dunkers, trips to the science museum, boys, football games, designer duds, boys, school buses, ski trips, notes (or texts, I suppose), vending machines, boys, crabby teachers, great teachers, classes that suck, classes that don't suck as much, boys, #2 pencils, playgrounds, flashcards, scantron sheets.......oh lord....here come the tears....again........no turnin' back........stay tuned..................

Labor Day Weekend in Pictures:

Family potty time:

FOUR of the TWELVE grandkids (boppy & daddy too):

"I really just like the marshmallows....
the crackers and chocolate really just get in the way"

daddy & mama:

Almost kindergartner (almost big islander) cruisin' Lake Minnetonka:

Jack & Grant, buddies at the lake:

"No really.....a little sand in the crotch is fine......."

kindergarten jitters

e: MOM! I can't go to kindergarten, I don't know math!
m: oh, honey, it's okay, that's the kind of thing you learn in kindergarten...
e: well, I know 2+3 is 5 and 10 +2 is 12......
m: Well, I'd say you know math then....really honey, I think you'll do fine.

it's a butterfly, baby!

Sisterly advice:

e: Don't worry Grant, someday you'll have a big penis like daddy....

8 days & counting:

I finally cried. I had held myself together all summer, knowing Ella was embarking on a new chapter of her life and all was well. Then, I got the envelope. THE envelope. The name tag to pin on her shirt, the PIN number for her hot lunches, the payment coupons for all day kindergarten (thanks, Mr. Bush) and the letter. The letter that read: Dear Ella, I can't wait to meet you.....I have so many fun things planned for us......we'll have a great year.....Love, Ms. Elling. Tears. Lots of tears. Now starts 13 years of best friends, worst friends and designer jeans.

Life Sentence:

If I ever find myself in a courtroom awaiting sentencing, forget jail...just give me a stack of Potterybarn catalogs. I cannot look through one of those without saying...oh I wish I had the money for....and oh that is so freakin cute....and oh if only we had a bigger house....

true punishment.

What IS this?!

The person who thought "Let's put a gigantic head of a StarWars guy on a little space-ship thing and sell them at McDonalds!" better have lost his job (I rudely assume it's a "he," as a "her" would never have let this fly) This thing is down-right disturbing:

"Hey Honey!
Let's put a few rocks around the fire pit..."

I've birthed a new baby blog:

life...by-the-numbers

14 Days & Counting:

Potterybarn Monogrammed Backpack with matching lunchbag?
Check!

Back-Off Mama Bird!

An overheard conversation between Ella and Mystery Neighborhood Boy:
MNB: Shut-up you! You have a big fat blubbery mouth!
(Whoa....there buddy! In swoops over protective mama bird:)
mama: Hey! Don't you dare talk to my daughter that way!

What, Mama Bird?!?! Haven't those parenting magazines taught you anything?!
Ooooooops. Strike one. What I should have said was "Hey! We don't talk to our friends that way....let's use nice words!"

Oh well, maybe next time.
For now, I'm officially the mean mom on the hill.

What happens when a working mom of two manages to squeeze in 50 hours of work into her 4 day work week, and over-commits herself to meetings and/or activities every evening? This:

on bees & birds:

e: mom, does jesus just decide when you should have a baby in your tummy and put one in? or do you have to ask him to put a baby inside?
c: well, kind of both. really, it's quite complicated.
e: oh.

(whew, that was easy. and no, I don't have a baby in my tummy)

now, THIS is a s'more fest:

l to r: jake the dog, Montana the cute neighbor, Ella the five-year-old turned twelve-year-old, Jarek the neighbor/gangster, Daddy the roasting supervisor, Joie the other dog, and little G the marshmallow eater....nevermind the grahams....give the boy a "Mar-mah-yoh!"

What a difference four years and a ton of elbow grease makes:

Sale-Pending, April 2004:

(ryan had to convince cara that it might someday be a house she would like...and that since we had sold our townhouse in four hours it really would be wise to find a place to live)

Summer 2008: finally more than just a house.

mama confession #2:

I bought $84 conditioner. Eighty-four-dollars! Justification: I only wash my hair 1-2 times per week and one bottle lasts me about a year, so that comes out to being roughly 80 cents per use. I won't buy lunch for two weeks to make up for it... bad, bad mommy.

e: grant, I don't have a peepee, can you say vagina?
g: ba-jeye-na! yea! ba-jeye-na!
e: mom! grant said vagina!
m: oooh, wow, that's great! (ahem)

e: mom, rachel ray goes poop.
m: um, yeah, I suppose she does.

bed time