July 31, 2010

Death by Pink Eye - Day 2 of #roadtrip2010

We're on a summer journey that will pass our big family through over a dozen states in the next two weeks. You can join me by following here or my updates on Twitter using the hashtag #roadtrip2010

I awoke day two with my eye redder than red. If it wasn't readily apparent day one that I had pink eye, it was quite evident now. Frick. (By the way, why in the hell do they call it pink eye? My eye is anything but pink. Blood red is more like it. To avoid scaring any children, I wear sunglasses every-fricken-where, even at night. And no, Corey Hart, wearing your sunglasses at night isn't cool, dude.)

We all awoke with crooked backs, tired bodies and with ravenously hunger. We had nothing to offer the kids but snack foods left-over from the car, or what we had to offer required more than we had - for example, we had a toaster in-room and bread we'd purchased (originally for sandwiches), but no butter to make toast. To include my much-needed coffee which required much-needed milk, which was absent. Obviously, breakfast would have to be eaten elsewhere, and a shopping trip was in order for us to get through the next few days, along with a phone call to Mema (grandma) to let her know we had finally arrived (somewhat) safely and were getting ready to come over.

Now that we were semi-functional, we were able to get a better idea of what the room actually looked like, considering it was now daylight. We knew we had booked this reservation at an older hotel with older fixtures and such, but how old could it possibly be when I, in all my five-foot-seven frame, attempted to take a shower and realized I was almost too tall for the shower? Yikes. And even worse? The room had no curtains, just broken vertical blinds that exposed us to anyone wanting to look in. Not good. But hey, at least it had an indoor pool just in case the weather got sketchy. (Remember my luck already with the "just in case" scenarios for later)

My mother, who is lovingly referred to as "Mema," is an old-fashioned Italian woman who has eleventy-billion pans and dishes going for when you arrive, ready to feed an army at any time (wonder where I get it from?). She had chicken nuggets and mac-and-cheese and vegetables and oh how the kids went hog-wild "Mema! Mema! Mema!" as they ran up the drive and kissed and hugged compared heights and lost teeth and ran inside to feast and love on her sweet grandma hugs.

My sister and her boys kept my children entertained, as the boys whizzed around the house playing aliens or boy-esque games while the girls surrounded my sister at the table with polish and hair pretties. All of this happened while I doused my eyes with as many eye drops as I could possibly stand to try to rid myself of the red-eye disease.

Our plan for the day? Swim at our hotel's pool. Clad with bathing suits and towels, we drove the short drive back to our hotel, only to discover our room keys that were supposedly needed to open up the pool's door didn't work. Instead, another guest was kind enough to let us in. Little did we know how often we would be the "kind guest" to many, many others in the over-two-hours we spent swimming. (Apparently, something else the hotel needed to fix.)

As we swam, my parents noted how nice the pool was, but how cold the water was. "The water is warmer in the ocean," she said.

"But I wanted to ensure we could still swim even if it rained just in case," I responded.

My mother balked. "It hadn't rained in weeks," she said.

My father even confirmed this. We went on swimming for a few minutes, enjoying each other, laughing, splashing....

And then the sound happened.

The big fat, metallic clanging of something happening happened overhead, everywhere. It caused everyone to stop dead in their tracks in the pool. No one moved, everyone in the pool looked around as though the roof might cave in or something. And with all the water around us, it took a few minutes to notice it coming down, monsoon-like out the enclosed windows. "Look!" my mother finally noticed. It was pouring.

(Yeah, we are sure rockin' the "just in case" scenarios. Two-for-two so far.)

The remainder of the night was spent thankfully uneventful, playing and spending lovely time together. But we were left wondering, what else could possibly be in store for us this trip? Is my pink eye ever going to go away? Will I ever go without wearing my sunglasses all day again?

Stick around to find out, Day 3 of #roadtrip2010 - School Shopping Extravaganza and The Tale of the Lost Toddler

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July 30, 2010

First Time Military Dependant ID Cards

When a military child turns age ten, they're supposed to get their military ID card. It's recommended to have these to sign up to play sports, for identification when seeking medical treatment and shopping at military stores, as well as on-post schools, libraries and after-school activities.

As I'm sure you can imagine, this makes them feel super grown-up. However, we've put off getting theirs done, mainly because, losing your ID is a big deal, and they can hardly find the match to their shoes half the time, let alone a teeny, tiny ID card. Yikes!

We're going to be visiting Busch Gardens Williamsburg using Anheuser Busch's Hero Salute "Here's to the Heroes" free-ticket offer, and they require military dependant's ages 10-and-older have their military ID. This was fabulous news for my ten-year-olds, their dreams of being big-shot ID-cardholders were coming true! So, my husband bit the bullet and took them. About forty-five-minutes-to-an-hour later, in the door they barreled through, practically running into walls to tackle me and show me what they received.

Look at their faces. Haha! Could they BE any prouder?

military dependant id cards

Geez, if I could only get them as excited to clean up their rooms, right?

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July 29, 2010

Death by Road Trip - Day 1 of #roadtrip2010

We're on a summer journey that will pass our big family through over a dozen states in the next two weeks. You can join me by following here or my updates on Twitter using the hashtag #roadtrip2010

After swearing we would leave no later than noon, we finally got out of the house at 3pm.  Yikes. It was at that point we should've realized the travel Gods were not smiling down on us. Even after having all the children use the restroom before we left, not fifteen minutes down the road did my six-year-old say those dreaded words. "Mom? Dad? I need to go to the bathroom."

And eighteen-billion more times during our almost-ten-hour drive of doom. I kid you not, we would go and ten minutes later, we were pulling over with Pee Pee McGee doing the wee-wee dance. It isn't like we were force-feeding this kid Gatorade or anything. But again, more signs that it was going to be a bumpy ride.

But oh, it only gets worse.

I decided to be smart, and "well-prepared," after having been caught unprepared a few times during previous trips. This time, I thought to stock my "drug/vitamin bag" filled with other things that would be quite useful if needed, such as allergy medicine (for unexpected ant bites), anti-itch cream, band-aids, tylenol, and pink-eye drops. I figured, we'll be staying in enough hotels, the potential for pink-eye was probable.

Ha, little did I know.

In handling the drops, I inadvertantly gave pink-eye to myself, because my dumbass self forgot to sanitize the bottle after the last time it was used, and wash my hands after handling it to pack it up. There I was, four hours into the drive, and my eye is beginning to redden and form crust in the corner. On top of the bathroom party we were already experiencing, mom suddenly became a cyclops. Proof once again that maybe, perhaps, this was going to be a bumpy ride.

But oh! It. Does. Not. Stop. There.

Around 9:30pm rolls around, and I realize, because were weren't anywhere near FL yet, that I should probably call the hotel and let them know we were running (way) behind. No answer. NO ANSWER!? At a hotel!? This had me a little more than nervous. Were they not there anymore? We aren't staying in a major hotel, just some smaller mom-and-pop kind that's been there for decades. What if we were too late? What if no one was available to check in? Would we have a room?

After six-or-so calls over and over, I called the agency that booked the hotel for me to begin with - Bookit.com. A lady named Brittany seemed to want to help, assured me that she would do what she could, and placed me on hold.

For twenty freaking minutes.

After my dumb ass spent those twenty long minutes waiting for The Lady Who Went On Break, I got the bright idea to borrow my husband's phone to try to call the hotel again. Still nothing. I then called Bookit.com, again, looking like the biggest fool with my phone in my right ear and his phone in my left. On hold. Again. I pressed a few buttons for a few different departments to finally get through to an agent who offered to call me back instead of keep me on hold for an ungodly amount of time. Ten minutes she took, that was all. Our room was unlocked, keys inside, and ready for us.

Thank goodness, things seemed to be looking up, or so I thought.

We finally got there at around 2AM and were forced to wake everyone up to bring them seven flights up to our hotel room in the elevator. Some how, it infused my children with a crazy crack-like spazziness that caused them to ping off the walls and screech to crazy levels, all while we struggled to manhandle luggage carts and bags and ourselves into this room, only to find the inflatable bed we needed wouldn't inflate, either.

And so, I slept on the floor with my two youngest, propped up with our extra pillows and deflated inflatable bed, with my bright pink eye in a room where, even when we turned off the air conditioner, it kept going on every ten minutes. And I kept waking up every hour on the hour to put drops in my eyes, determined to cure it as fast as we could.

And I awoke with a massive head ache, sore back, and a new day of more things to go wrong. Sigh.

Stick around for Day 2 of #roadtrip2010 - When Mom Buries Her Head in the Sand.

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July 27, 2010

My Garden Loves Me. No Really. Look.

See?

heart-shaped plant

This is what my children and I saw outside today. How sweet is that?


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July 26, 2010

Healing a Failed Summer (and Heart)

There are days when my fists are so tight, veins are protruding out of my arm, my teeth are clenched and my brow's hanging furiously wrinkled over angry eyes. Days where I feel (and look) like a monster.

This is not the momma I want to be. 

I want to be the fun-loving, easy-going, crafty, lets-color-all-day, lazy summer, ice-cream and cookie-eatin' kind-of momma. But there are responsibilities that need to be addressed, and for whatever reason, this summer has been a long, difficult one, what with my husband working all day/weekend long and the kids being extraordinarily clingy to the indoors, unwilling to do anything but sit inside and argue all day, making mom lose her marbles and then-some.

These last few weeks, what with the baby being hurt, stressing about preparations for vacation followed directly by the BlogHer conference, new writing projects, deadlines, conference calls, and all.six.kids.home. for the summer have been more difficult to accomplish than would normally. The kids haven't been making it exactly easy on me, either, knowing there is much to be done before we leave.

I feel like I've failed them, like I've failed myself for failing them. I've witnessed others go on these amazing summer adventures, beaches, trips, and we haven't. My husband is working. I sometimes feel like I barely have time to breathe let alone play. I can't drive hours away to some place cool to take them by myself with six kids (with nothing local), not with our youngest-two as young as they are, anyway. Unless I sprouted an extra set of arms and eyeballs overnight.

This wasn't the summer I had intended. I only hope I can redeem it with our upcoming vacation. A vacation I've been putting a great deal of thought into, researching many options to make it excitingly memorable. (That is, if they let me sit and attempt to finish getting the plans in order without interruption or arguing. Sigh.)

Tonight, though, I just stepped away. Stepped away from responsibility, from the chains I felt were tying me to the keyboard and to commitment and to planning, and I laid on the floor, broken and in need of repair, and took turns lifting each toddler above my head playing airplane with my feet, to the roar of giggles and "Weeeee!" and copious amount of loose drool flung about. 

It was just what this mother's heart needed. Laughter, exercise, recklessly tickling and flying and ohsogiggling.

On the agenda for tomorrow, amidst another full day of planning? A part two to this picture. Outside. In the sun. In the fresh air.

Mommy needs play time, too.

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July 25, 2010

Why Music Ruins My Mojo

{Warning: Video contains me. Being a dork. You're welcome.}

Doing my best to get everything done, posts written, deadlines met, and so I throw on some tunes. Why this was, without a question, a bad idea.


Yes, you can catch this milkshake (quite literally, I'm still breastfeeding) at BlogHer in a week-and-a-half, thanks to the partial sponsorship from Constructive Playthings. Be sure to thank them profusely for helping me bring awesome dance moves to the conference.

Music: "The Middle" by Jimmy Eat World  
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July 24, 2010

Ten

She's not afraid of heights.
She's not afraid to look a little crazy.
She really likes dressing like her sister.
She's a dork. No, really.
She really knows how to make people laugh without trying to.
Most of all, she is one of the most loving, most giving, kind-hearted girls you'll ever meet, often sharing everything she has with everyone, and taking rejection in any form pretty hard.
And today, she's ten. TEN! How does that happen? Where did this newly-four-year-old girl go, as she held her baby brother for her birthday with her baby-soft curls and baby-teeth-grin?

four-year-old birthday girl

Today she's dressed in purple heaven, and her gigantic birthday smile beaming her big-people teeth back at me are a reminder that time is not on my side. Sigh.

birthday girl

Last year's birthday menu included homemade pizza and chocolate cupcakes. This year? Mexican pasta and lava cake (all her choices, I might add. Excellently done, if I do say so myself.)

Happy Double-Digit Birthday, sweetheart.

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July 21, 2010

Facebook Chat + Alcohol + Your Sister-in-Law = This

Actual conversation with my sister-in-law last night, after I'd had one drink. Total blog-fodder for the win!

SIL: I am going nuts because I never have a day off... restaurant fri-mon. hospital tues-thurs

Me: Holy crap, you need a vacay! And lots 'o margaritas :)

SIL: I dont mind the school work... I like learning. and as a nurse I will always have stuff to learn, but I just need some time for myself

Me: And a spa day!

SIL: Yes time to drink, ha! I have never had a spa day.

Me: I had a gift-card for a spa once and got my hair done instead. What the eff was I thinking?

SIL: I have never had a professional massage! It is my biggest self dissappointment

Me: Ah, that I have, once. Kinda creepy. My girly-parts were grazed by the masseuse person.

SIL: I dunno if i would like them in my hotel room... Um, ha!! Sometimes people pay extra for that grazing, haha! You just got a bonus!

Me: Oh. My. God Bwhahaha! Dude, it wasn't even a cute dude, it was an older german woman {shivers}

SIL: Ewwww. yeah that is not appealing..

Me: HAHA, Now, if it was, like, the dude from Fringe or something? Hells yeah!

SIL: Yes then let the grazing begin!

ME: HA! Yeah! Wish I could recall his name. He was on umm.. crap. That show.. um.. Wow, I'm a big help huh? Heh.

SIL: Yeah I can't remember either..

Me:With Katie that's married to Tom Cruise and it sang "I dont want to wait"

...
Ahhhhhhhh

SIL: Dawson's Creek!!!!!!!!!!

Me: Must. Google.
YES
YES!
YES!!!
Jonathan something
Jeremy Jackson?
No. Yes?
Um..
WAHOO I have a brain! :D:D

SIL: HAHA! Together we figure it out! Maybe we make one brain...

ME: Dude, I totally suck at charades on the internet. Just sayin'

SIL:  Ha!

(later, after discussing our much-needed family get-together next month at our parents)

SIL: We should get a hotel (when we visit). It can be our safe place..

Me: Yes, our fortress of solitude haha (with a pool)

SIL: And tequila!

Me: Tequila poolside FTW!

SIL: The fam will be lucky if we make it over there to see them, ha!

Me: Schlepp over is more like it haha Margaritas at the ready to get there!

SIL: Hopefully it is within stumbling distance...

Me: I have always said we need a beer hat converted to a mixer for margaritas for the ladies, yeah baby!

SIL: That is a good idea. just one of those frozen drink mixers with a straw.. battery powered

ME: EXACTAMUNDO!

SIL: You could be a millionare... it could be sold next to the Snuggie!

Me: OHMYGOD MARGARITAS IN SNUGGIES WHILE WE CLEAN WITH THE SHARK STEAM MOP! YES!

SIL: Ahhhh it is a dream come true... but only if the Snuggie is leopard or zebra print..

Me: And comes with the book flashlight. Bwahaha!

SIL: Ha!

Me: Gosh, this should be a blog post. It's hilarious!

And so, it was.

(P.S. Beware bro and hubs, it's on like Donkey Kong when we get together. Party on, Wayne!) 

(P.P.S. No moms were hurt in the creation of this blog post.)


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July 20, 2010

Before and After House Pictures - Be Prepared for Shock and Awe, People.

(Alternately titled: Holy Crap, My House No Longer Sucks to Look At! or House Painting Rocks My Socks! or If You Hear a Thud, That's My Jaw. and many, many others. The shock is here to stay, people. Read on.)

It makes absolute sense that the two-year anniversary of us living in this military-owned house that it gets a much-needed face-lift. I was skeptical (as was evident about my Facebook updates), but I will be the first to admit, I'm pretty freakin' amazed. For the entire week last week, this is what I saw when I looked out my window:

feet out the window
As seen out my kitchen window. Y'know, hence the meat thermometer 'n all.

Cleaning, repairing, painting. Lather, rinse, repeat. It was loud, it was drama-inducing at times. I had to, more than once, run outside, with my hair on fire, freaking out because they were trampling my garden, ruining something, or God knows what.

But oh. my. goodness. My house, my ugly, 1960's reject of a house looks decent. No, more than decent!

I'm going to walk you through the time line of what we've done to our home, and what it now looks like after all our hard work, and their hard work. (The backyard is not included in this party, it isn't done.)

Here it was the day we moved in. I cried. I cried big, fat, ugly, I'm-pregnant-and-I-hate-this-place-with-my-big-pregnant-body tears. You would've, too.

ugliest house/yard EVER
Taken July 16th 2008

It had dirt for a supposed "lawn," grass growing in the "garden," and paint splotches to high hell outside. Piss-yellow accented by shit-brown, and a dead yard. I had my work cut out for me, obviously.

So, I fertilized the lawn almost nine-months pregnant. We purchased tons of plants, lava rock, black mulch, rock borders, plant food, planters, containers, bird-feeders (did I mention plants?) and by the next spring, we had something going.

Gardening makes our house better
Taken March 17th 2009

By summer '09, our house was in full bloom. But, despite how much we did, the color was dingy, and the brown made it dark and gloomy.

Gardening in bloomGetting there
Both pictures taken June 25th 2009

And even later that summer - our lush lawn and flowers were really blossoming. The house was coming along as much as it could.

New decor making it pretty
Taken August 6th 2009

But by spring this year, no matter what we planted, hung, swept or prepped, nothing would make this house look any better than a fresh coat of paint. But I sure did my best. Earlier this month I talked about how I was changing up my house to make a home I could love. I bought more beautiful things for outside, and really began throwing myself into my house's appearance, outside included.

New decor making it pretty
Taken June 10th 2010

Well, as I said, they began painting our block, and our house was first. I freaked. FIRST! Yes! I was skeptical when they began painting, though, when I saw the color. They came through and started spraying this baby-poo green color on our home, and I was certain we were doomed, especially with it half-done and next to the piss-yellow already up. (And, if you follow me on Facebook, you may or may not have gotten the play-by-play.) It wasn't good. (Or so I thought.)

Um, new paint? Eek!
Taken July 15th 2010

But then they finished. And then they painted the trim, repainted the door, and fixed it up real nice. Some how, some way, paint saved the day. I cannot believe this is the same house.

This is my house. Wha?This is my house. Wha?
Taken July 19th 2010

OHMYGOD, are you seriously freaking like I'm freaking? HOLY CRAP! Look at the differences when side-by-side!

Ugly house beforeUgly house? Nope!
Before taken July 16th 2008. After taken July 19th 2010

Can you believe that? And look, look at how bright it is before-paint and after-paint! Wow!

Entryway beforeEntry after
Before taken June 10th 2010 - After taken July 19th 2010

Door before Door after

Before taken June 10th 2010 - After taken July 19th 2010

I seriously cannot stand how gorgeous it is now, who cares about the 1960's-reject-of-a-roof coming down the side or not. Wow. You guys!? This is my house!

This is my house. Wha?

Welcome! {big sheepish grin}


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July 16, 2010

Some Parenting Firsts are Not Cool

I can now (literally) say that Baby Dude is an escape artist, and not just out of the confines of his car seat (I really REALLY need a staple gun for the car. Kidding. Maybe). I'm thinking of calling him Baby Houdini, or something. Either that, or it's a he's-getting-too-tall-too-fast kind-of thing. Look!

Baby Dude's adventure with the front door

Yes, rocking out on the tippy-top of his toes, he can now reach the front-door handle. And, of course, this house has those, easy-to-open, pull-down kind. I bet you can guess what he did next? You betcha.

Baby Dude's adventure with the front door

He shoots.. he scores!

Baby Dude's adventure with the front door

"Mama!" he says, as he points to the glass.

So, I guess what he's trying to tell me is that he wants to go outside and play on his tricycle? (Thank goodness for chains on doors, and locks!)

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July 12, 2010

Play Time at Target

What does my family do when it has a whole day's time to kill and you can't be at home because the electric is shut-off for repairs? You drive an hour-and-a-half to your nearest Target store and play in their toy-aisle.

OH YES WE DID!


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July 11, 2010

My Ten-Year-Old Photographer (and The Story of the New Headshot)

I needed to submit a head-shot of myself to a new website I'm going to be working with (stay tuned for that announcement!), except the head-shots that I already had weren't the best. Neither my husband nor myself really know what the heck we're doing with this camera most times, so it's of no surprise that we got the big #FAIL back from the company stating we needed a redo, along with instructions on how to do it. Yikes.

Knowing that I didn't even know if my camera had a timer setting on it or not, I needed help, and all I had available were children ten-years-old and below. I opted for the safest option - the oldest of the bunch. He very carefully put my camera strap around his neck (because I'm a nervous-nelly about dropping it) and he knew right away what to do, how to twist the lens and what button to push. I was impressed, I guess he has been observing me :) I explained that what I needed was a solid background behind me, so I decided I was going to kneel in the grass to have the grass behind me.

I explained that we had to take a test shot when, mid-sentence, I heard "Snap!" I wasn't ready yet. Someone was apparently eager.


After he showed me what the test shot looked like, and I directed him to zoom in a bit, he obliged and shifted. But then I noticed him doing freaky things with the other hand holding the camera (not the hand depressing the shutter-release) "Snap!" And again, another picture when I wasn't ready. Thank goodness these were test-shots.


"Hmm. Okay, you still need to zoom in some. Here, let me show you.." and so I twisted the lens and zoomed it in all the way and handed it back to him. Before I had the chance to even look at him let alone smile, he snapped it. Again. Frick, man.


"Okay, dude. Here's how we're going to work this.." I began. "First, I'm going to smile, see? 'Cuz it's kind-of important that my head-shot have a smiling picture, and not a picture of me making funny faces, y'know?" {He laughed. I laughed. He snapped. This ended up being the picture I used.}


Unfortunately, my shirt was still doing crazy-stuff, so, with the editing wonders of Picnik.com (in all their shirt-cropping, color-deepening, wrinkle-removing, under-eye-contouring, airbrushing glory. Ahem.), here's the end result.


He didn't do such a bad job, huh?

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July 8, 2010

Adventures in Stitches (NEVER. AGAIN.)

My poor, dear, sweet Baby Dude had his stitches removed. And by removed, I mean, serious temper tantrum throwing while screaming at the top of his lungs 'cuz HOLYHELLINAHANDBASKET, we had to hold him down AGAIN so the scary friggin' doctor could wave around some scissors and super-sharp tweezers close to his lip to try to pry the stubborn stitches away from his skin in order to cut them, all while he cried "Momma!" and "No, no, noooo!" moving the aforementioned lip, making it impossible for her to do it. Who knew three teeny blue stitches could be the death of me?

Twenty minutes of pure unadulterated torture for all involved. I wanted to throw up.

I swear to crap, kids, we're Never. Friggin. Doing. This. Again. If it takes me wrapping you all up in bubble wrap, or following you around in that spray-foam crap, I'll do it. I swear I will.

My poor Baby Dude is tough, though. After a marathon nursing session, he was up and around, doing this thing, eating everything in sight, drinking perfectly fine. He's probably going to rock something similar to the Harrison Ford scar, though. He'll be fine with it, though. Especially when he discovers that chicks dig scars.


Moms, however, don't dig 'em. Especially how they came about. Double-especially when stitches are involved.


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July 7, 2010

That's How He Rolls. Literally.

A formula for awesome:
Take my youngest.
Add to that one variable dumbbell.
The end result?


Lots and lots of laughter, as he pushes it around the floor. And endless fun for him.


Cuz well, y'know, that's how he rolls. {Giggle}


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July 6, 2010

Children's Stainless Cookware Set Made of Awesome by Constructive Playthings (Giveaway!)

All-Play Stainless Cookware Set from Constructive Playthings
Never before, in the history of ever, have I opened up a kids toy and cried. Okay, I didn't cry exactly, but I was misty. I was feelin' the vapors and the quivering lip was working overtime, I tell ya.

When I saw how amazing and shiny and adorable and pint-sized and OHMYGODTHECUTE this All-Play Stainless Cookware Set from Constructive Playthings was, I went completely spazzy, I won't lie. My daughter was frightened a little. (Okay, more than a little.) I just wanted to sit with her forever and ever and pretend-cook our little hearts out.

This set is the real deal. I mean, I have stock pots JUST. LIKE. THIS. She thinks she's hot stuff because she can sit with me, side by side, with the same whisk and same pot and bowl and roller and ladle and COOK.

I am not even going to lie when I tell you, I fell in love with this set so hard, I moved the play kitchen downstairs. True story. Look! Proof!

My daughter playing with All-Play Stainless Cookware Set from Constructive Playthings
She plays kitchen right behind my desk!

We play with it every day. I love it. She loves it. Baby Dude loves it. Even hubby loves it.

The end.

(Pssst, want a discount for Constructive Playthings? How's 15% on your entire purchase. Click that link or their button in my sidebar. You're welcome.)

Win it! - CLOSED

Want a $50 gift card to shop for educational toys or developmental toys with 'til your heart's content? Heck yeah, baby!

To enter:
  • Visit Constructive Playthings and take a look around. Come back and tell me a toy you think your child would really enjoy for one entry. (The toy mentioned in the review does not count.)
For extra entries:
$50 gift card awarded to one winner in US and Canada only (Canadians - Constructive Playthings is just on the verge of launching in Canada.  If you win, you will be one of the first people to shop on the website with your gift card when it launches later this month.)

Winner will be chosen using Random.org. Contest ends Saturday, July 17th, at 10pm CST.

Good luck, and happy playing!

Congratulations Tammy!

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Fourth of July Weekend, ER-Style

It wasn't the same picturesque Fourth we celebrated last year at the in-laws house. Not at all. In fact, you could tell the recession had affected the notably smaller parade this year.

But it didn't affect our children's spirit, our children were all dressed and ready for any activity, despite the parade occurring one day early this year. My girls donned red, white and blue hair "pretties" with stars on 'em.


My two younger girls had matching tanks and dresses, while my two older boys sported festive, tie-dyed, star-spangled shirts.


The weather didn't hold out for us, as it began to rain and turn yucky and too treacherous to swim. My kids are always pretty inventive, and so, with two couches with eleventy-billion pillows, they created pillow forts.


Unfortunately for my Baby Dude, falling over to knock the forts down proved to be a mistake. He fell into the side of the couch, putting his teeth through his bottom lip through-and-through (bottom teeth inside, top teeth outside, biting right through). After a lot of blood and screaming (by him and me), Granny had us rushed to the hospital lickety-split and in to see a doc in no time. However, my poor dude had to have three stitches. The absolute worst thing ever, despite being numbed, is holding your son down so they can sew him up.


(Note to children, please don't make me have to do that ever again, okay?)

Thankfully, the next day the swelling started to go down, and the no-salt advisory that was given to us for him seemed non-existent - no food or drink slowed him down from filling his (swollen) mouth. He enjoyed every second we spent at a new fun place we ventured to in Lewisville, TX called The Main Event.

After a blur of a few psychadelic games of glow-in-the-dark mini-golf..


..we played Laser Tag, bowled...


..and played arcade games til our heart's content...


..ending the day barbecuing at Granny and Poppy's and swimming, watching Avatar and getting a good night's rest in preparation for leaving to go home the next day.

But not without Baby Sis falling off the diving board and landing head-first into the pavement surrounding the pool, scraping up her nose and upper lip nice. Ugh! What the heck, kids?{shakes head}


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July 2, 2010

A Simple Remodel for a Home to Love

The beginning of my remodel for my desk area - see below for the finished product!

It wasn't until I began losing weight and taking that small amount of time to do something so good for myself that I truly realized how little I seemingly cared for myself back before when I was heavier. Sure, I had children, I was busy, but here I was chasing after my littles to eat well, wash their faces, brush their teeth and take vitamins, and I was barely doing any of that for myself. How could I dare teach them to respect themselves if I didn't respect myself first?

Not only were changes happening to my body outwardly, but inwardly as well. I began to realize I was worth so much more than I dared admit, and that I had to start caring for myself as much as I cared for them.

Now that I've gotten into the habit of caring for my family and myself, I realize that the caring and overall 'taking care' doesn't stop at just us. Our home now needs my attention, too. Not in a I-need-to-clean-more-often, kind-of way, but in a we-can-have-grown-up-furniture-and-nice-things, kind-of way. I have spent so much time being a frugalist - buying the least expensive items, or second-hand fix-er-uppers, where my motto of duct tape for every repair is alive and well. But it doesn't have to be, because it's not something I'm proud of. I shouldn't have to MacGyver things back together to keep 'em longer, despite being a money-saver. It doesn't help matters any that I'm a sentimental old bat, too, and that I like keeping things wayyy longer than anyone should because they remind me of this time, or that  time. Ugh. (I think Flylady was created for me, for realz).

I want to feel inspired in my own home. I want to walk room-to-room and fall in love with everything I see. I'm tired of looking at our things we own and think they are "just okay" or "nice" because, for whatever reason, instead of having things we truly love beyond words, we stuck ourselves with things that we don't care for. We may be military, and we may not own this home, but that doesn't mean we can't be proud of our things and possessions.

I want to feel a sense of accomplishment. Once upon a time I was an artist, for crying out loud. I know I can do better than this, six kids and afraid of it breaking five-minutes after it was purchased or not, I need another creative outlet, and what better than my own home?

And so, my journey has begun. Little by little, I'm tackling my home to make it one I don't ever want to leave. Want to see what I've done so far?

Here's the new wall behind my laptop. Amazingly what a couple of pretty espresso shelves, some awesome bins and baskets, a few cheap frames with clearanced scrap-booking paper in them, and a handy corkboard will do. Do you see that there, behind my laptop, the flower there next to the corkboard, hanging on the wall? It's something I've hung on my laptop for almost a year - Sara Sophia made it and gave it to me at the Type-A Mom conference last year. {Made. It.} How could I not keep it and treasure it so? I love seeing it every day, whenever I'm online. It reminds me of the great friends I have.


A table and decor changed, here's our entrance before and here it is now.


Our curtains then, and our curtains now, as well as a wall decor change and some sprucing up - see?


Here's what we've done with the corner of our back yard, which was in desperate need of help - a clearanced flag-holder and some rejuvenated plants (that jalapeno plant has doubled in size and has already produced since this picture was taken! And the herbs are bigger, too!)


This is the sweet little wrought-iron shelf I hung on our ghastly walls outside to make it look prettier (a hard task. You've seen our time-warp house last spring.)


We purchased these in-expensive lanterns to brighten up our horridly dark porch. They look splendid at night!


I love my wind-chime, that matches the wrought-iron shelf above. It sits right outside the window near my desk.


Another cheap update that adds greenery and cheerfulness to the kitchen. And when I say cheap, I mean cheap! See those price tags I intentionally left on? Originally $12.98, but I got it for $2 at Lowes. Yes!


I. Love. My. Double. Begonias. Of all places, I got them at the commissary! And my hanging baskets, my beautiful new patriotic star, butterfly, and wall basket.


And this, I love LOVE this find at Hobby Lobby. They set it out for July 4th, but being a military wife who loves to rock Americana all year round, I had to snatch it up for my front door in need of cheering up.


More updates to come. I'm loving my house redo, even if it's only a little by little! Next update - the dressers!

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