Tweet deck and other time suckers

Wow, so I thought maybe I'd better join the social media revolution and sign up for tweetdeck. Congratulations, Amy, you've just signed up for the greatest time sucker of all! Not only can I tweet about nothing to hundreds of people I've never met, but now I get INSTANT UPDATES from hundreds of people I've never met. What a gift.

I must admit I am a bit of a social media junkie these days. For example, almost a year ago I joined the FaceBook revolution. Now I have been connecting with dozes of people from junior high and high school, many of whom I have not spoken to since June of 1991. But, it is pretty cool. And I find myself jumping on during the day to see what people are "up to" when I need a brain break.

And I have discovered that MANY people do the same thing, at regular intervals, so now I know when someone has taken a dump, washed their dishes or eaten a muffin. How ever did I get by without this knowledge?

And I am just as guilty, my most recent FB post: "Ever notice how close the U and I are together when typing the word shut?" Really? We should retitle status updates to say "Deep thoughts by Jack Handey".

And another great function of the FB world is that you can change the language settings. I recently discovered the pirate setting. Aaaaargh, me mateys were squawking all the time! I grew tired of translating it so I went back to plain English. Guess that's why I decided to try tweetdeck. Something else to entertain me.

I also discovered that I can "tweet" (aka say nothing of substance in 140 characeters or less) via my cell phone. And I can also update my FB status with the phone, hence the "I've eaten a bran muffin, look out toilet when I finish with the dishes" kind of updates.

But, if you have oodles of free time and need something that completely consumes your brain, check out twitter, tweet deck and other fun ways to tell the world absolutely nothing. Kind of like a blog.....only really short. Hmmm.....maybe I need a hobby.

Sanity, sanity, wherefore art though sanity?

The last couple months have been beyond crazy. Let me say first that I am grateful for all my blessings, which are many: a home, wonderful kidlets, a really cool hubs, a great job, our health, and you know blah blah blah.

So why in the name of all that is good and holy am I suffering from anxiety attacks all over again? It has been a RARE occasion that I have experienced them over the past year, but lately I am just in a constant state of anxiety.

Do you know what it feels like to live with the sensation that a sumo wrestler is standing on your chest at all times? Do you know how freaking embarassing it is to have to drive while inhaling/exhaling into a paper bag so you don't go apeshit?

Can you fathom the frustration people like me feel when they realize that it takes less than 60 seconds to be completely and utterly worked into a frenzy, and yet it takes 4 days, 3 xanax, 2 bottles of wine and a full day of sleep to get rid of it?

Do you know that you can give yourself MORE anxiety by being anxious about having an anxiety attack? Have you ever heard of an adult woman chasing her tail? Welcome to my world!

I am, as I type this, feeling an even heightened sense of anxiousness, solely because I'm talking about it. OMG!

I hope that after the holidays, the new office move, the Tiger Woods debacle and the H1N1 scare are over that I'll start to feel better. Meantime, I'm off to find a quiet place to curl up in a ball and rock myself to sleep.

Dude. Seriously?

I have been swapmed lately with work and kids and life, you know how it goes. Not that I haven't had anything to say, but nothing that has really pissed me off to drop what I am working on (that pays my bills) to take a moment to vent. Here's my moment.

I've never been a HUGE Tiger Woods fan, but always kind of thought he was a neat guy, giving back to kids, being a golfer/philanthropist/family man. Guess we can add philanderer to his list of accomplishments.

And how embarassing, not for the world of golf, not for Tiger, but for his beautiful wife and their two kids. And ya know what Tig? Get over the media getting "all in your bizness" about your "transgressions". You're one lucky SOB that no one found out sooner.

And the fact that people find it so interesting and can't resist wanting to know more, is that quite frankly people are kind of shocked that you would abuse your position in such a way. And you're so "private" about your private life. Here's a tip, Tig: If ya want to keep your private life private, keep it in your pants, bud.

And if you can't keep it in your pants, then don't go sleeping with multiple, extremely slutty and opportunistic chicks from Las Vegas. And do your wife and children a favor, and allow them to move on.

Honestly, I can completely understand why the back of his car was smashed with a golf club. He's lucky he didn't get it in the head. And I also understand her being visibly upset, the last thing I would want is the whole freaking world finding out what a cheating bastard I married, calling my judgement into question.

Nuff said.

God Bless single parents

To all you single parents out there: you have my support and sympathy. Lately Mark has been working very long hours and I have been on kid duty by myself.

They totally know when they outnumber me, and they divide and conquer. And purposefully ignore everything I ask them to do because I can only chase one of them around the house at a time.

For example, last night was "tubby night". We really should bathe them nightly, as they are very stinky and unhygenic, but I don't have the mental strength to survive this nightly ritual alone.

I figured it would be easier & quicker to tub them together, which I haven't done since Kaylee pointed out that Brady has a mushroom atop his privates. Man oh man was I wrong. I made them swear that they wouldn't yell or splash. They promised. Not so much.

My first challenge was chasing one or the other to get them to take their clothes off. As previously mentioned, they know there's only one of me, but two of them. So that was a needless 10 minute ordeal to get them naked.

Then once in the tub, they proceeded to splash, scream, yell, fight, etc all the while knowing that I could only beat one of them at a time. And that was fine with them. Getting them out was interesting too. It was a conundrum, really. They waited until all the water drained, then sat there complaining about how cold they were, yet they wouldn't let me dry them off.

I explained that they couldn't just sit there with their towels, that they actually had to use them to remove the water, but it was like talking to a fence post. Another 10 minutes of my life I won't ever get back.

This morning I also had to get them ready on my own, for the most part, since Mark had a 7:15 am meeting. Let's just say that things didn't go much better this morning than they did last night.

Single parents have my support and sympathy. While this is an occasional experience for me, it's a daily struggle for them. That's why god invented coffee for the morning and booze for after you get the kids in bed. Amen.

Gravity Storm

Anytime one of the hoodlums fall over, Papa (my Dad) will say "gravity storm". Kaylee doesn't fall as much anymore, but her little brother, for as coordinated as he is, can't seem to stay on his feet. Brady seems to walk into these "storms" quite often.


I'll be in the kitchen doing dishes or making something to eat and one minute he's standing and the next I hear a loud "thump, Waaaaaaaah" and he's on his back, his hip, his face, his head....you get the idea. I mean it is INSTANT. Thwack. Scream. How it happens so fast is beyond me. You blink, you miss. It's amazing.


And you'd think the kid would learn from his mistakes, but much like a twenty year old girl who keeps going out with the same asshole with a different name, Brady keeps doing the same thing over and over and over.


For example, I can't tell you how many times the little fella has fallen off the dang kitchen bar stool while farting (figuratively, not literally, that is another post for another time) around at dinner time. And everytime is results in a bloody nose. EVERY. FREAKING. TIME.


This past weekend, however, was by far the WORST fall of all time. I was, of course, doing the dishes. One minute I'm saying "Brady eat your dinner before I smack ya" and then next thing I know as I'm bent down to put a plate in the dishwasher I hear a VERY loud "thud"....then the dreaded silence.


You know, the silence where you are waiting and you think maybe, just maybe, he won't scream. You hang there, breathless, like a dangling participle, anxious and alert. Then, it comes. The loud, never-ending screech and you know that this time, without a doubt, there will be blood. Lots of it.


Since the old hubs was recovering from the surgery to prevent further children (thank God) he was unable to pick up the poor little man. By the time I got to him, the blood had just started dripping. Unfortunately I made a critical error in judgement, by mentioning that there was blood coming out, causing my son to look down which then caused gallons of blood to come gushing out.


I picked him up, ran to the bathroom and laid him on his back. Have YOU ever tried to hold a three yeear old down on a bathroom counter about 1/3 of his actual size? I really don't recommend it, I felt like I was wrestling a fricken alligator.


But then, now this is the best part, as I am cleaning him up, or attempting to, he caught sight of all the blood and TOTALLY lost his mind. Screaming, writhing, more blood shooting out, it seriously looked like a freaking murder scene in our bathroom. We had three, count 'em THREE washclothes covered in the red stuff, plus my clothes, his, the counter, sink, carpet, etc etc etc.


We finally got him calmed down and the blood stopped and attempted to ice his face. Again, have YOU ever tried to put ice on a rapidly swelling nose of a very busy and extremely agitated 3 year old boy? Again, I don't recommend it.


Here, for your viewing pleasure, is the end result of the events described above, and yes, he's sitting on the toilet. As mentioned in a previous post the kid takes 15 minutes to poop, what else was I supposed to do:

Things about children that I will never understand

1. Why I can repeat things like "put your shoes on" and "get in the car" about a thousand times before the kids "hear" me, but when I say "who wants ice cream" just ONE TIME they respond.

2. Why children can remember the one time you said a swear word, four months ago, but they don't remember why they can't mess around on the furniture, despite the fact that every time it results in a bloody nose and/or the icing of some body part.

3. Why children are incapable of buttoning their pants, zipping their coats, and putting on their shoes at home, but are magically granted the ability at school or friend's houses.

4. Why it is so freaking difficult to get in the car for ANY reason OTHER than to go to Silverwood. I swear, I should just tell them we're going to Silverwood EVERY DAY and then it would take 30 seconds as opposed to fifteen minutes.

5. Why cheese makes everything more palatable for children to eat. Vegetables, meat and yes, even fruit. Blech.

6. Why children want to dip every piece of their dinner meal in their juice cup. Soooooo gross.

7. Why, when the kids were in diapers, it took them less than 15 seconds to fill them up with poop, but now that they are toilet trained it takes them at least 15 minutes to finish. AND sometimes they even ask for reading material.

8. Why kids look so deceivingly angelic when they're sleeping, but the minute their feet hit the floor you can almost see the devil horns poking out. Totally Jekyl & Hyde.

9. Why they remember to tell you when you do things you shouldn't such as coughing without covering your mouth, forgetting to say excuse me when you belch or fart, and yet they can't seem to remember those things for themselves.

10. How you can love them so much, even when you feel like selling them on eBay.

Another moment of irony in our household

If you read this and you know my husband......don't tell him about this post. I'll find you. I swear.

As you all may well know, Mark underwent the old knife to prevent further spawn in our family. I have to say that I found it VERY interesting that the man was afraid to take a shower (even though the instructions said he could) and he waited three agonizing and very smelly days to do so.

It also said he could take ibuprofen and some other pain meds that they sent home with him (which I have placed in a secure location for my own future use), and yet he didn't take anything, but preferred instead to tell me how painful it was. CONSTANTLY.

And yet...the instructions also said he should wait a week before, um, well, you know, but he was willing to break the rules last night. Of all the things to ignore, it had to be that one?

The most frightening moment as a parent......so far

I had my most frightening moment as a parent this weekend (so far). Was it when Brady fell off the kitchen bar stool (again) and we think he may have broken his nose? Sadly, no. Was it Friday morning thinking Kaylee might have the swine flu? Nope. (and it turned out to be a sinus/ear infection, thank goodness).

Instead, it was the very moment that I realized my five year old daughter figured out that there are limits to what we can do to get her to do what she's SUPPOSED to do. She is waaaaaaay to young to know that she can withstand physical torture in the name of getting what she wants. She is too young to have figured out that, unless we install restraints, there's really no way we can keep her in bed when he have banished her to it for being a turd.

She is too small to know that, no matter what we say or do, her physical presence has grown enough that she can, in fact, fight back. OMIGOD. Needless to say, this was a difficult weekend. I was a man down and she knew it. (for those of you not in the small town gossip loop, Mark took preventative measures - ahem, snip snip, ahem - last week so we won't be having more children, and after this weekend......... he's like a God to me)

I kind of assumed that she would come to this realization, I dunno, sometime in her teens. I figured I had a good nine or ten years of maintaining some sort of control. Wait.....I think I hear my mother laughing in Boise right now.....stop it Mom!!

Let me tell ya, it is a VERY scary thing when you've tried everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, save for things that CPS would frown on, to get your kid to A) eat her goddamn dinner; B) stop smacking her brother around; C)get her f--king clothes on for school and; D) (my personal favorite) do something you've asked her to do by least the third, if not second time, you've asked. Is that asking too much?

I did recognize a pattern of behavior though (and this is where I KNOW my Mom is laughing so hard she might pee a little) that she wants to have control over the house, her choices, and quite frankly our whole family. Which is really really unfortunate, because I am the one who wants to have control. So it's a battle of wills my peeps, and guess what? This weekend, it was a freaking DRAW.

Next time, chalk one up to MOM. I'm going to buy some restraints for her bed today. Oh, and turning the lock on her door around.

This isn't alarming to PETA?

Have you seen the email that has all these poor dogs in halloween costume? Here's a sample.

Where is PETA when you REALLY need them? Seriously.

Am I screwed or what?

At five years old I would have NEVER been able to survive a slumber party at a friends house. In fact, I think I was in the second or third grade the first time I even had the guts to try, and then I remember freaking out and my poor mother having to pick me up, and she wasn't happy. Robe, slippers, no make up.....it wasn't pretty. And it was only about 10 pm....

Kaylee, on the other hand, has been begging me, PLEADING, to go have a "spend over" with her friend Hannah, who is in the third grade. Hannah is a great little girl, so it wasn't Hannah that worried me, it was Kaylee and her lack of knowledge of surviving a slumber party that had me concerned, ie: don't fall asleep first or your underwear will be frozen solid; someone will put your hand in a warm dish of water to see if you'll pee the bed, or, and this is my personal favorite, while you're sound asleep your friends will scrawl inappropriate messages in lipstick on the parts of your body not covered by a sleeping bag or hair.

But Kaylee and Hannah are young, so I probably didn't need to freak out quite so much. Reluctantly I agreed to the event, mostly because Mark was out of town, and handling one small and very tired child would be easier then both, especially because I haven't had the guts to go back to Safeway to buy booze since my Dad had to buy it last time (see this post if you're confused: http://blissandchaos.blogspot.com/2009/09/most-exciting-moment-in-my-life.html)

Brady & I took Kaylee to her friends house, and while Brady had dinner with Kaylee and her friends I sat talking to the parents (my friends) until about 7pm. Kaylee came wandering downstairs awhile after dinner, apparently surprised to see me and quite disgruntled that I was still on the premises and said, "When are you and my brother leaving?" to which I replied "In a few minutes" to which she said, and I quote: "AWESOME!"

I kep thinking that I would get "the call" to come & pick her up (a half hour drive from my house in traffic) so at 9pm when the phone rang I thought "this is it." I answered the phone only to hear my very inebriated husband on the other end of the line, slurring his words and confessing that he was at a place called "Cheerleaders" and it was Cougar night (''it's so obvious" he said) and karaoke night to boot. So basically he was drinking with his buddy watching a bunch of horny single 40 year old women warble Madonna tunes and was totally put out that none of them bought him a drink!

But I digress. Kaylee never needed to come home, and when I picked her up she clearly had a wonderful time. In fact, I think she was really pissed that I even picked her up! Five years old and ready to run....I'm screwed. And soon to be back in therapy.

Spotted at the dollar store

I was at the dollar store the other day looking for a few things for an event. I didn't find ANY of what I was looking for, but on the way out I spotted something that I couldn't quite believe. I blinked a couple of times, rubbed my eyes, I really thought it was a mirage or maybe I needed new glasses, but FOR SURE I saw a PREGNANCY TEST for ONE DOLLAR at the DOLLAR STORE.

I don't know about you, but when you buy things at the dollar store, you don't get mad if they don't work 'cause after all, it was only a dollar. Now if a pregnancy test was a dollar and it didn't work, well I'd be pissed. Especially if you're one of those people who might be a day late (and a dollar short) and you think "maybe I'll take this test to see if I really can put down a bottle of wine and four shots of vodka tonight."

In my humble opinion, an accurate pregnancy test is worth the exra nine or ten dollars, I would think. I mean what's a few more bucks to be absolutely sure instead of an entire nine months of freaking out thinking you've poisoned the embryo with a couple nights drunkeness at the local watering hole.

But you know what I didn't see at the dollar store? Condoms! And I would think if you sell a preggo test, you might want to sell a pack of rubbers. I'm just sayin'.

Teeth whitening, really not the first thing to address

Do you ever see those funky little side ads on different pages that you browse? Today I saw one advertising how to whiten teeth without bleach.

I'm thinkin' maybe putting that one tooth back in her mouth (or closing the gap, it's hard to tell) might be the first order of business.

Then the second one probably needs to visit the dentist and get that cavity taken care of. Priorities, people!

How to tell if you have the Swine Flu or not

I received an email from my Dad today. Unfortunately he's been ill this week and was concerned that he may have the Swine Flu. But, he indicated that he was pretty sure it wasn't, as he has a fail safe test. He said, and I quote: "I didn't have the urge to roll around in the dirt or become a lawyer" so he was positive it was just a normal virus.

Save it for the Civic Theater

Those of you who know me well are not surprised that my theatrics earned the comment "Save it for the civic theater" from many adults on many occasions in my lifetime. In fact, it is safe to say that I still have a flair for the dramatic. Unfortunately, so does my daughter.

The day started out the same as always, me badgering the children to get dressed, eat breakfast, brush teeth, comb hair over and over and over, whilst experiencing continuous ground-hog's day type feelings every time I opened my mouth.

After several minutes with my voice on repeat, the kids were ready to go, maybe not mentally, but physically ready for sure. Kaylee went completely apeshit and I literally pushed her into the garage with my knee, step by step by step.

It was an oscar-worthy performance, tears and sobbing. "I don't wanna go to school. I just wanna stay home." Full of sympathy I said, "sorry kiddo, staying home just isn't an option. Get in the truck." When little miss Academy Award realized I wasn't going to budge, she changed tactics on me and started begging me to drive her to school.

When that didn't work and she was safely buckled in her car seat, I closed the car door to muffle her screams. Pretty sure the neighbors thought we were dismembering her...

Flash forward to 10:30 when "the call" came in. "Mrs. Little, this is Mrs. Hurst from the Carden Academy. Kaylee says she's been feeling nauseous all morning and is asking for you to come and get her." Yeah right.

I went to the school (in no hurry mind you) and when I arrived, little miss Driving Me Crazy was sitting, eating, shoes kicked off and a big ol' smile on her face. I knew before I got there that she'd be full of shit. She totally had Mrs. Hurst convinced....the poor thing. She felt so terrible for calling me out of the office.

But really, what will be more fun will be to find a creative, yet appropriate way to punish Kaylee for faking it. I would bet $100 that my Mom has about a dozen ideas......

Lincoln Logs

Lincoln Logs were one of my all time favorite toys when I was a kid. I could sit for hours putting little log style villages together by the warm wood stove fire in the basement of the house where I grew up.

All this time I thought of Lincoln Logs as a child's toy. Until yesterday. Kaylee and I were chatting about her day. I asked if she had any "adventures" yesterday and she said only one.

My sweet little blue eyed daughter told me that she stepped in dog poop at school. Dog poop? Yes, mom, I stepped on Lincoln Logs. Lincoln is the school dog, and I bet you can figure out the log part.

I will never look at Lincoln Logs quite the same way again.

Reaaalllyyy!?!? by Amy Little

Really? Someone took a 47 year old convicted schizophrenic murderer to the Spokane County Fair for a field trip?

Really? Was that the BEST idea for a little R&R you could come up with? Maybe a quick run around the hospital yard that has an electric fence or something MIGHT, just MIGHT, have been a better option?

Really? Taking a schizophrenic murderer to an event with thousands of people, including small children, lots of flashing lights and so much mental stimulus that even a sane person can lose their noodle? Really?

Really? Flashing across the TV screen a breaking news line was your best bet for finding a 47 year old man in a red jacket and a backpack who is a convicted murderer that got lost at the fairgrounds?

Call 911? That's what we're supposed to do? Really? Why not, um I don't know, lock your doors/windows and put the children in your bed with you, sleep with one eye open and a shotgun handy?

Really? Authorities didn't notify anyone for 2 hours? And you wonder why you can't find him? Really? And he could attack without provocation? REALLY?

Really. This is a head shaker people!!

My Little Man

Brady had just finished going potty and tried to flush the toilet this morning. The handle, I must confess, doesn't always work properly. It takes a little extra oomph to get it to flush, but a 3 year old at 6 in the morning just doesn't have the stuff.

Instead, I stopped cold in my tracks, thinking I hear "Dammit! It doesn't flush!" I walked over, calmly, and asked him what he said. And a three year old is NOT bashful about repeating their words, particularly when they are things they KNOW they shouldn't say.

This sweet little voice said "Dammit." Incredulously, I asked again, what did you say? This time a bit more shyly he said "Dammit" and looked at me out of the corner of his eye, as if to say yeah I get it Mom, I know it's a bad word, so what are ya gonna do about it?

So I said Brady, please don't use that word, it isn't a nice word, nor is it a word for a little boy to say. I felt like I'd really made my point well. I didn't yell, make a big stinnk about it, I just simply and calmly explained the situation. One of my finer moments as a parent, I thought.

A little while later he was working on a puzzle in the bathroom (don't ask, just work with me here) and I distincly heard the following: "Dammit! I can't get the Liking McQueen togedder!" Now people can truly understand why I keep his hair short....so when the devil horns start poking out I'll have fair warning.

The most exciting moment in my life happened at the store

I returned to the scene of the crime yesterday (Safeway) for some supplies for dinner with my Dad and step-mom last night. My dad decided to drive me in since he was blocking our car and because the kids were watching a movie with GiGi and my husband was balled up on the floor with a hurt back so what was there to do anyways?

I did not have to take the children, thankfully, and walked my dad through the entire ordeal while we were shopping. Of course, when Dad & Judy come to dinner, alcohol is a must. We stopped off and picked up a bottle of wine and headed to checkout.

A couple of weeks ago my driver's license went missing. I keep forgetting to go get a new one, and given the fact that I have purchased or attempted to purchase alcohol multiple times since I lost it you'd think I'd remember to get it taken care of. Not so. However I do know the true meaning of Murphy's law: no matter how old you look you'll get carded ONLY when you can't find your driver's license.

Last night, though, I was in need of some booze and I hoped that I'd get by without having to show my license. I almost fell over laughing when she carded me and I had to admit that I didn't have my license. She gave me a serious talking to, but I pointed out that I was with my Dad who was present at my birth and could vouch for me that I was legal. And guess what? He actually had to!

I'm a 36 year old woman with a husband and two children and my Dad had to buy my booze!

Children for sale - two for one special

I was in dire need of some dietary staples last night, but since I missed my kiddos all day I decided (against my better judgement) to pick them up and THEN hit the store.

Oh. My. God. What the HELL was I THINKING?

On the way into the store we talked about how much I needed their help, if they were good they could get a treat, etc etc. They seemed so sweet in the parking lot, even saying they wanted to get their dad a treat too, and if they weren't good, well they'd still get a treat for Mark.

So I "thought" when we got into the store that all would be well. Mistake #1: I did not restrain either child in the cart.

A brief summary of the events at the store:

1. They got into a wrestling/biting/hitting match over who was going to push the cart in the produce section, the FIRST PLACE we got to in the freaking store.

2. Both started crying because I bought red pears. God forbid change, if they aren't apples then life is apparently over. Who wants to try new things anyway?

3. In the meat department (stop #2) they started pushing the cart INTO each other, one was on one end, one was on the other and it was like freaking tug of war with a heavy and highly mobile object in the middle. And yes, both ended up screaming and crying in about 5 seconds flat.

At this point, people were REALLY starting to stare at us, some were laughing openly (but who can blame them) and I asked the meat department guy where the beer was.

4. We made it through a couple more stops without incident but crashed and burned (literally) on the way back to the produce section for one last item - by the way at this point the kids were following me screaming and crying because they weren't getting a treat so I started just singing "kids for sale, two for one special, one comes with his own blanket" - and we ran into our neighbor Margi, who has yet to start her family and while we were talking the kids literally TIPPED THE DAMN GROCERY CART OVER IN FRONT OF THE PHARMACY!!!!!!! I think Margi will up her birth control measures after that incident.

Needless to say they fussed and cried the entire time, and the sweet little bag boy at the check out stand asked if I needed help out and I said only if help meant that he would put the groceries in my car and bring the kids back into the store so I could go home and have a relaxing glass of wine ALONE.

He just kind of stood there blinking at me....I think he thought I was serious. Maybe I was.....

Another Mother of the Year Moment

Today is Kaylee's second SECOND day of school and guess what? TOTALLY forgot to pick her up. CRAP! Pick up time is from 2:15 - 2:25 and ya know what? At 2:28 I realized that I forgot. No excuses, no reason, just plumb forgot.

I mean there WAS someone at my desk unexpectedly this afternoon and it is only day 2 and I didn't have it in my calendar, but for the love of GOD what kind of a mother FORGETS to pick up their kid on the SECOND DAY OF SCHOOL!

And I'm Catholic now, so the whole guilt thing is REALLY getting to me. I feel terrible, awful, the worst mom ever. But, hopefully a margarita will fix all.

Coincidence? I think not....

V-day has been set. Yep, it's official, Mark made the "appointment" for "that thing" he is getting that he has yet to actually use the technical term for: Vasectomy. As excited as he is to have it done, the guy just can't bring himself to say it. Kinda funny.

But not even remotely as funny as this: The Dr. who will be performing the "procedure" is named Peterson. PETERson. Am I the only one who thinks this is totally hilarious? Yes, I know, that is sooooooo third grade. But I don't care.

PETER. It's damn funny.

You're better of without it, I think

Mark and I were watching TV last night, as we do on a regular basis, and the following commercial came on for a drug called Chantix, that is basically prescription medication for those who want to quit smoking:

http://www.chantix.com/tv-ads.aspx

Ya gotta watch this....seriously. Here's the thing: The commercial is about 60 seconds. About 15 of it is about how great the meds are and that it helped this woman quit smoking after 29 years.

THEN it launches into another 45 seconds about how it can take three months to actually stop smoking, that there are numerous (and life threatening) side effects of the medication (seriously, see below), and you have to have an actual "plan" with maybe even counseling, that the meds alone won't do it.

Really? This is a viable option for people who want to quit smoking? THEN when you quit taking the meds you have a slew of withdrawl symptoms that include things like depression & suicidal thoughts? You'll be so agitated and upset, you'll probably start smoking again! Why bother?

Seriously, this is from their website:

What is the most important safety information about CHANTIX?
Some people have had changes in behavior, hostility, agitation, depressed mood, suicidal thoughts or actions while using CHANTIX to help them quit smoking. Some people had these symptoms when they began taking CHANTIX, and others developed them after several weeks of treatment or after stopping CHANTIX. If you, your family, or caregiver notice agitation, hostility, depression, or changes in behavior, thinking, or mood that are not typical for you, or you develop suicidal thoughts or actions, anxiety, panic, aggression, anger, mania, abnormal sensations, hallucinations, paranoia, or confusion, stop taking CHANTIX and call your doctor right away. Also tell your doctor about any history of depression or other mental health problems before taking CHANTIX, as these symptoms may worsen while taking CHANTIX.

Is there other important safety information? (as if the list above wasn't enough!!)
Some people can have serious skin reactions while taking CHANTIX, some of which can become life-threatening. These can include rash, swelling, redness, and peeling of the skin. Some people can have allergic reactions to CHANTIX, some of which can be life-threatening and include: swelling of the face, mouth, and throat that can cause trouble breathing. If you have these symptoms or have a rash with peeling skin or blisters in your mouth, stop taking CHANTIX and get medical attention right away.

Use caution driving or operating machinery until you know how CHANTIX may affect you. (I don't know about you, but most people who smoke also drive because they always roll their windows down and blow smoke into my car)

What are the most common side effects?
In clinical trials, the most common side effects of CHANTIX include:
Nausea (30%)
Sleep problems (trouble sleeping, changes in dreaming)
Constipation
Gas
Vomiting
These are not all the side effects of CHANTIX. Ask your doctor or pharmacist for more information.

That would be enough for me to decide that either A) I'm better of smoking or B) chewing the nicotene gum might be a little safer.....

OMG - you can get money back

CLICK HERE AND SIGN UP PLEASE:

http://www.ebates.com/rf.do?referrerid=HbPsV4OvaWRxNqfDrmnzyQ%3D%3D

Holy cow batman! I am shocked shocked shocked! My friend Deena www.momthatmakescents.blogspot.com turned me on to this site where you get cash back for purchases. And I get cash back when people sign up (who also get cash back). I kind of thought it was a joke, but it isn't.

I am going to get $23 in November, but maybe even more, just for buying stuff through the site. I have pretty much just bought restaurant gift certificates for local restaurants, which has allowed me to save money AND get cash back. (you need to also sign up for restaurant.com)

By the time November rolls around and I get my check, think of how much booze and happy pills I can buy with my rebate check! YEAH baby!

The best part? Both sites are FREE TO SIGN UP.

And yesterday, because of Deena, I saved $50 bucks on a $100 grocery purchase at Safeway. I was on such a high, it was actually almost better than sex. Almost.

Some things are just so hilarious...

you really don't need to say anything at all.......

Thank you Sassy Texas Redhead for the laugh of the day: http://sassytexasredhead.blogspot.com/

Honestly, who would go to a place like this? Wait....please don't answer that question.

The Big Debate

Thankfully this isn't a debate in our household, but if it were I would have a LOT to say about it. First, a little background on the discussion (and I am sorry Mark you will not be happy about this post!!). I have been asking, literally begging to have another baby. You see, I've got the fever and the only cure is another pooping, crying, sleeping & eating machine that weighs 9 lbs at birth. Or so I thought.

Recently we decided to look into enrolling Kaylee in a private school, which comes with a hefty pricetag. Then I had another epiphany yesterday after catching my three year old son in a big ol' lie: someday soon I will have two teenagers. I don't think I'll have the strength to survive more than that. While I love babies and small children, as a former secondary educator I can say with 100% certainty that I would not want three teenagers in my home at one time. Nuff said.

Since we weren't 100% sure if we'd want a third little tax deduction, we put another method of pregnancy prevention in place until we could decide for sure. Mark the math whiz and financial guru decided LONG ago that we were done. Me, it took a little while longer. Now, I honestly don't know what scares me more, the cost of private school for two kids or the thought of three teenagers, but in any event I have finally come around to his way of thinking.

Needless to say, Mark's first words were: "I better get this done before you change your mind." So last night we did some research on the dreaded V: vasectomy. For a guy who volunteered to have one performed weeks after delivering our second child, I did find it amusing that he didn't know how to spell it! Anyhoozer.....

We googled Vasectomy and the FIRST SPONSORED LINK WAS THIS:
Don't Get A Vasectomywww.Essure.com
Essure® is Perm BC You Can Trust Without Cutting or Going Under

I knew immediately that this would be some other kind of torture for a woman to go through to avoid a man having to have their little boy parts fiddled with, and I was right! The HOME PAGE of this website is dedicated to the benefits of why this procedure is SO MUCH better than a vasectomy for a male. Check this out: http://essure.com/Home/Comparing/EssureVasectomy/tabid/66/Default.aspx?gclid=CJPV6IDivJwCFSNQagodHD3VoA

I decided to do a little research because I was 100% certain this would have been invented by a man, and yes, it was. After all, why on earth would a female MD invent yet another procedure for a woman to endure so a man would yet again not need to bear the responsibility of birth control?

After all, let's take a look at the options a man has for prevention: rubbers & vasectomy
Women: the pill, hormone shots, IUDs, tubal ligation, diaphragm, cervical cap....and I could go on. Hmmm.......coincidence? I think not. If you don't believe me, google it!

I think by far the most disturbing part of the whole website is the comparison it draws to the vasectomy. You have to check it out, but honestly it was like "oh poor fella, he'll be sore for a few days and have to squirt in a cup a few times, which is actually a bonus I think, after all they get a chance to spank the money AND look at porn for a valid reason. It's like a get out of jail free card!

Never mind the 9 + months that a woman's body is invaded by an alien species, the barfing, weight gain, breast feeding, recovery, etc. Literally for nearly two years your body is NOT your own. I think it's okay for a dude to have some "slight discomfort" for a few days. After all, three days of icing the old giggle berries beats three more years of finding excuses to disappear when there's a diaper full of shit just waiting to be changed.

Lesson in genetics part 2

While traveling alone by airplane with two small children I realized that I also have become my father.

Everyone was tired, hungry and anxious to get home. Both children simultaneously burst into screaming tears for no apparent reason, and somewhere in the aiport my Dad heard the whole episode and yelled out the following phrase: "I'll GIVE YOU something to cry about!"

Like that really helped the situation. But I felt better hearing it. Thanks, Dad.

Lesson in Genetics

I'm not really sure when I officially became my mother, but last night I realized the following:
1. I heard myself say "the answer is no. no matter how many times you ask, or how you ask, the answer will still be no!"
2. The kids were trying to avoid their bedtime and I threatened bodily harm
3. I explained to the kids that the sound of thunder was just the angels bowling
4. I bribed them with dessert so they would eat their freaking vegetables
5. I actually said "Stop jumping on the couch! It's all fun and games until someone breaks an arm!"
6. When Brady gave me some attitude I simply explained, "that is no way to talk to your mother" as if a three year old is remotely capable of grasping the concept of guilt
7. I yelled things like "don't forget to flush the toilet!" and "wash your hands!" and "tur out the lights, for pete's sake you're wasting energy!"
8. AND I have a purse full of coupons, and I'm not afraid to use them!

Shock and Awe

I am about to change my blog title to Bliss, Chaos and Poop since it appears that recently poop is the number one topic, aside from clandestine sex. What happened last night is WAAAAY funnier, and slightly more disturbing, than my friend's camper trailer being sex-christened by someone else.

We live on an acre, in Sagle, with lots and lots of trees. When Brady was potty training he would frequently pee his pants because he didn't want to stop playing to go all the way in the house to use the toilet. After all, that would interfere in what he was doing.

After a couple of wet pants incidents we decided that since he is, after all, a boy, that it would be acceptable to pee outside in an emergency situation. So now he pretty much waters the weeds anytime we are outside. Might I say that we have been VERY CLEAR that he is only to do this at home, not at school, the park or anyone's else's house, unless they say it's okay.

Last night Brady said "I need to pee in the woods!" So I said "Go for it!" I saw him standing there with his little dingaling and looked away for what was a matter of three seconds. I heard him say "Mom! I got poop on my underwear!"

I leisurely strolled over thinking I might find some skid marks or something. Nope, fresh. So I asked him, "did you toot and a little poop came out?" He said "yeah, I tooted and just some poop came out" as if he was trying to convince himself that was all it was.

He pulled his pants up, and as he did so, I realized that while he was standing there and peeing, when he "tooted" he basically rocket propelled a terd right out of his butt that was just sitting right there on the side of the driveway, steaming and attracting flies, as poop usually does.

My first reaction was one of complete and total shock. Then awe, as it appears that the little guy is doing a great job ingesting fiber in his diet. Then I was kind of angry because who poops outside in their own driveway anyway??? Finally, I just started laughing uncontrollably because, quite frankly, the whole situation is really hilarious.

So I guess I have the "Phantom Pooper" and the "If I Have to do it I'll do it anywhere no matter how inappropriate it is Pooper." Lucky me. Isn't life grand?

Ode to Coffee

My eyes don't open, my mouth barely speaks
Until I feel your warm steam on my cheeks.

That first cup of java just smells so great
When getting out of bed I can hardly wait.

One pack of splenda, a little carmel cream
Wakes me up from my crappy work dream.

I love to wrap my hands on that mug
If I could I would drink you by the jug.

What would I do without thee, o coffee?
Without you, there's no morning pee.

You make me much more tolerable to most
And you taste great with my morning toast.

So warm & delicious coffee I love you,
Thankfully I'm at work for my morning poo.

Kona, Cuban, and fine French Roast blend,
Makes no difference to me, you're all my best friend.

Regular, espresso and even french press
I love them all, no favorite I guess.

I'd take it by vein or catheter too,
But hot in a mug is how I prefer you.

The faster it comes the happier I am
Just ask the kids and husband, my poor little fam!

Now, dearest coffee, I must bid you adeiu,
Until 6am when I will definitely see you.

The Phantom Pooper Strikes Again!

Actually, the Pooping Extrovert, AKA Kaylee was at it again today. We went over to a friend's house for breakfast before work today (she was leaving town today) and had a delightful spread of sourdough pancakes, fresh fruit, coffee, sausage and eggs. De-lish!

Before we left I gave the kids their morning "coffee" of milk, cream and a teaspoon of java. Apparently the coffee worked fast on Kaylee. As we were leaving I used their facilities and guess what I found? Two little terds in the toilet, waiting to be flushed. That girl!!!!

The Pooping Extrovert

Have you ever known people who are afraid of pooping anywhere else but their own toilet? My husband calls it the "shy pooper", and apparently he is well acquainted with this phenomenon. Me, I have never had that problem, when ya gotta go, ya gotta go.

Apparently, Kaylee has inherited my complete and total comfort in pooping whenever is necessary and in whatever hole is available. In fact, I think she takes it one step further: she'd RATHER poop in someone else's toilet than her own. Introvert, she is not.

For example, our dear neighbors were building their house for about six months, and placed a Honey Bucket (no clue where that name came from, if you get within 10 feet of them they definitely DO NOT smell anything like honey) porta potty on their property, for the convenience of their subcontractors, and apparently for my beautiful daughter who "made a deposit" in it every night we went to visit them.

I figured it was just a novelty that would eventually wear off, but I was wrong. In fact, when they finally had working indoor plumbing and the "Smells like old, rotten shit bucket" was removed from the premises, little miss poopy pants was visibly upset.

I had warned my neighbor about how Kaylee likes to poop in other people's homes and how frequently she visited the outdoor facilities and hinted that she would probably want to christen their new toilet eventually. We weren't even there 5 minutes when she looked at me, wide eyed and in a VERY strained little voice said "Mom, I need to go potty." I knew it.

I went and checked on the poor unsuspecting throne and sure enough: streak marks. I had to 'fess up to the neighbor, who thankfully has a great sense of humor. And I do apologize that poop has been included in several of my posts recently, but it does make for some good stories.

I don't have enough fingers to count the number of times Kaylee has rolled the old logs in someone else's bathroom, but this past weekend kind of takes the cake. If you haven't read my previous post on how my friends Brian and Sara had their camper sex-christened, you must read that to understand why I am totally embarassed and highly amused at the same time.

On my post this morning was another comment from my friend Sara that reads as follows: "Oh and Amy, YOUR little darling daughter "blessed" the toilet with the first poop. All these fun firsts have been taken from us! First the humping, now the pooping! Dang!" If I could crawl in a hole, I would, but first I would need to make sure Kaylee hadn't already taken a shit in it.

Campus Interruptus

I had THE funniest thing happen this weekend, oh my goodness. If I hadn't been so dehydrated from the heat, I would have DEFINITELY peed myself.

Mark was gone all weekend long helping his older brother move into their new house in Colville, so me being mother of the year that I am, kept the kids SO BUSY all weekend long that they didn't have an opportunity to beat each other.

First up on the list was visiting Brady's best buddy Joe Joe, and his future wife Bean (aka Lily). We hung out at their house for several hours on Saturday playing with all their toys, making a giant mess at their house, eating their pizza and leaving a wake of destruction in our path when we left.

Then my college friend Brian and his lovely, talented and extremely funny wife Sara (you can check out her blog too: http://www.sarafilly.blogspot.com/) were camping with their friends at Round Lake State Park. I allowed the kids to pass out in the van on the 25 minute drive down to the park and then we hiked down to the lake (really, it's just a freaking pond people, but anything with more water than a puddle qualifies as a lake up here) for some time to play.

Sara and her BFF were in town shopping for some CRAZY bargains during crazy days in Sandpoint, so it was me, Brian and three children ages 5, 3 and 11 months. If you knew both of us when we were in college, you probably wouldn't have trusted us with three children. Thankfully we've grown up significantly....

Sara made it back to the campsite and joined us at the lake for a swim. We were having a blast catching up and splashing with the kids. Sara mentioned that she had cupcakes back at the campsite and before I could say anything my kids were pretty much out of the water, with shoes on trucking back up to their camper for a treat. Maybe if I didn't deprive them so much.....

Anyhoozer.....I guess we're pretty noisy and didn't stay down at the beach quite long enough. As we were entering the campsite Sara's BFF and her husband came BARRELING out of Sara & Brian's camper looking ever-so-guilty.

The hubby said "oh we were looking for a bandaid" and Sara said (I am totally not making ANY of this up): "Oh MY GOD! You guys were DOING it in our camper, WEREN'T you???"

They looked pretty darn ashamed and quite frankly didn't even bother to deny it. All Mrs. BFF said was "It was all HIS idea" (totally what I would have said) and Sara says, "Amy, this is my friend (name changed to protect the non-innocent) Madam Humpsalot".....

I know they were slightly concerned about the impression they must be leaving on me, but hey, I'm a mom with two kids, I totally get it. When you're camping with your kids there's pretty much no choice. And ya know, doing it in someone else's trailer WITH a door that locks must have been pretty appealing.

More than anything Sara was bummed because she and Brian had yet to "christen" their own camper, but that duty has been covered for them. Thoughtful friends.

I did notice, however, that Mr. Humpsalot didn't look overly tired, and he certainly didn't say he needed a nap so I was guessing that they never really did seal the deal, if ya know what I mean...

Children & Animals

I always say "children are like wild animals, and they can smell when you're weak or afraid, and they WILL take full advantage." I learned that during my days as a middle school teacher. I am pretty sure I've mentioned it a time or two in this blog, but I was reminded of this very phenomenon last night.

Poor Mark had to work late on a project that was moved quickly up the priority list while he was away on vacation. Of course, it never fails, it is almost always tub night when Mark is pulled away. Hmmmmmm......coincidence?

Of course we're all tired from our trip and the kids are, without fail, ravenously hungry when I pick them up at the end of the day. Additionally, because of the whole bandaid thing, Brady didn't take much of a nap so here's the equation for disaster: 1 tired mom who had a crappy day at work + 1 really exhausted 3 year old with an axe to grind over the bandaid situation + 1 really emotional and sensitive 5 year old = TOTAL DISASTER!!!!!!!

Here's how dinner went down:

Kaylee complained because her (custom made by request) cheese quesadilla was cut and Brady's was not. Seriously, the kid was almost in tears. I had forgotten, so went ahead and cut it. Cue the screaming 3 year old: I don't want mines cut (you read right "mines" as in both of his personalities I guess). Me (mother of the year): Quit complaining and eat- it will cool off and won't burn your mouth.

Kaylee pounded her quesadilla (after talking herself down from being upset over the whole cutting thing), apples and carmel (haven't made it to the store, okay? stop judging) and apple juice. (Note: Mom, I know there's not a vegatable, see previous statement). I asked if she was hungry and YES, she was. I think the kid has tape worms or a hollow leg. She eats more than I do! I gave her some tunafish salad on crackers, and yes she ate it. Then a big ol' ice cream sandwich, followed by yogurt and life cereal. And ya know what? Still hungry.....

Fast forward to tub time.

Me: Get your clothes off and in the tub! REPEAT 80 times!!!! Finally got one kid in the tub, after she dropped the old deuce in the toilet. Then Brady stepped up to the pot and also dropped a deuce, but really messy (read: poop everywhere!!!!). Both kids finally got in the tub together and complete mayhem ensued. Splashing, kicking, hitting, toy throwing, and general shenanigans. I think I was as soaked as the kids when all was said and done. One of these days I'll remember to change out of my work clothes before tubby time.

You would think as hard as it was to get them in, they would have been thrilled to get out. Nope! And the tub was coated in brown sludge from whatever dirt they managed to coat themselves with, on top of the three inches of sunscreen applied each day to keep their skin as white as my well you get the idea...

Me, I'd be jumping out of the tub to escape the parasites now living in the ring around the tub, but I guess when you're 3 and 5, it is just as fun to taunt your mother and play in an empty tub than to actually escape the plague.

Anyway, bedtime didn't go much better, but I finally got them in and of all the things to top off my day? Couldn't find my margarita fixins.....typical.

The Serial Thumbsucker

When Brady was a baby, I tried like hell to get him to take a binky, or a "pacifier" if you must be technical, but to no avail. He would just spit it out and go right for the thumb. Shoulda known, he'd suck on any finger he could find near his mouth, including mine.

I hoped that one day he would just take the damn binky and forget the thumb, but that day never came. My logic was that I could always take the binky away, but to get him to quit the thumb was going to be a little tougher. Man was I WRONG!

Brady is now 3 + years old with no end to the thumbsucking in sight. In fact, he has made two little holes in his thumb from his increasingly crooked bottom teeth on top of the giant callous he's created. So much so that I think he may draw blood soon.

We kept reminding him when we were on vacation: Brady take your thumb out. One time he replied back: But I'm TIRED. (as if that's a valid reason for chewing an appendage off your body!)

Yesterday we were in the car for hours driving home. We kept reminding him to stop doint it. In fact, I think we said "Brady take your thumb out" on a 5-1 ratio of the children asking us "are we there yet" which is A LOT.

At one point I looked back and saw that he had put his blanket over his head. Guess what he was doing? You got it: sucking his thumb in disguise! Stinker.

Oh, and apparently Brady thinks his middle name is "Stinker Pants", 'least that's what he told his Aunt Debbie when she asked him.

And the footnote to this story is that last night I wrapped Brady's thumb in three big bandaids and put him to bed. He clearly didn't suck his thumb, but promised if I took the bandage off he wouldn't suck his thumb. I am not that dumb. But I did give him a dollar to quit asking me.

What song does THIS remind you of?

Recently Mark made what those of us in redneck north Idaho (according to his brother anyway) refer to as Beer Can Chicken.

It is actually quite delicious, but when I went out to the grill to take it inside I opened the lid and burst our laughing, nearly peeing myself. All I could hear in the background was "Sledgehammer"....

"sledge sledge sledgehammer

I've kicked the habit

shed my skin

this is the new stuff

I go dancing in, we go dancing in...."

Long live Peter Gabriel and this naughty naughty song! To check out the (PG 13) video click here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hqyc37aOqT0

And you'll see what I mean about the chicken, 'cept mine has a nice tan.

Pretty darn funny

On the way to my friend Deena's house Brady asked for a piece of juicy fruit gum, which he was given. Deena and I were prepping for our big yard sale today (a whole other blog on that later!!) so the kids went inside. A few minutes later Brady came out screaming his head off due to his irrational fear of dogs, in particular yellow labs who want nothing more than to lick him and allow him to scratch their butt.

Anyways, after the evening was over we stopped for the kids to get a milkshake and I noted that Brady's gum was gone. I asked him what happened to it and he said "the dog ate it" like it was his homework or something. I figured he was full of shit. So I prodded some more and asked his sister who was allegedly a witness to the whole event. Yep, sure enough.

Here's what they said: Brady was crying so hard that his gum fell out and before Brady could pick it up the dog ate it. Kaylee says, "Harley is a doggie garbage can."

I sent a text to Deena thinking that maybe this wasn't such a good thing, and all she said was LOL, you have to be careful with that dog, if you put anything in front of him that resembles food, he'll eat it.

I was so thankful that she thought it was funny because I almost peed my pants when the kids told me! Now to figure out how to get rid of Brady's fear of dogs....

One of my favorite things

Is driving around town and having my windows rolled down enjoying the sunshine, light breeze, blue sky, and fresh air, then stopping at a stop light and having the asshole next to me blow his cigarette smoke out of his own fricken window so it drifts right into mine. Gee thanks dumbass, if I wanted to smell your smoke I'd be riding in your car. Roll up the window you selfish jerk.....

New grocery store ID policy

Recently I decided to start coloring my hair. Mostly because it's getting really really gray, but partly because I just wanted to do something different. As many of you know, I have a love affair with alcohol. Not the co-dependent kind or anything, but I just reaaaaalllllllly love it.


Ever since I started coloring my hair again, I noticed that I was getting asked for my ID in the check out line when purchasing any sort of booze. I was feelin' PRETTY good about myself, until an encounter recently.

Check out girl: "Can I see your ID please?"

Me: "Of course! Thanks, I never get asked anymore. Makes me feel so young looking!"

Stupid ass check out girl with no common sense: "Yeah, they changed it. Now we have to card if you look under 40."

You know you're camping in north Idaho when...

You know it's spelled "creek" with a long EE sound, but you say "crick"

You think nothing of shooting a firearm in the middle of the morning for no reason other than just because

You happily enjoy a light beer in a can cooled in the aforementioned crick

You determine that dirt is just as good of a bug repellant as anything

Beer bratwursts become a dietary staple

You use gasoline to start a fire, instead of the old fashioned way with sticks and pine needles

You see signs to a lake, but when you get there it's a really big pond

Your husband actually sees a bear and you are grateful he brought his gun

You are filthy dirty and tired when you get home but you've never had more fun!

Goin' camping

We are headed out this afternoon to go camping for the weekend. I sincerely hope that the rest of the weekend goes better than our morning:

Mark ran over Kaylee's bike and totally crushed it while trying to hook up the camper trailer.

Cross your fingers that it gets better from here. I am pretty sure I'll have plenty to blab, I mean blog about when I get back from boondocking in the north Idaho woods.

I can hear the banjos now....

Is it just me or...

Have other women's husbands been constantly busting out their best Michael Jackson impression ever since the dude croaked over? No? Just mine? Sigh.

I always say....

"God makes them cute so you don't sell 'em."

Perfect example: Friday night at dinner at a local burger joint a young lady walked by with red, and I mean like spray painted red on purpose, hair.

Brady says (quite loudly) "She's got crazy hair" while pointing as she walked by. Wish the floor could have swallowed me up.

Then again, if she didn't want people to stare, why paint it Ford Mustang red?

I am a twitter pig

I had no idea, really, how addicting social media can be. I started off slowly, a little blogging here and there. Moved on over to a little plinky, then got too busy to keep writing (plus it is much easier for me to make stuff up than be told what to write about!).

I added a facebook page, just for the heck of it, and soon found myself with 124 friends (I honestly had no idea that many people liked me, or that I liked them back!) and suddenly WHAM! Twitter ended up on my to do list.

Twitter is the absolute perfect tool for me though. I cannot stop talking, nor do I ever stop talking about stuff that no one gives a crap about (just ask my husband). But suddenly I sign up for a twitter account to talk about training for the half marathon and people actually "follow" me so that they can keep up on the mundane stuff of my life. And sadly, I am excited to be keeping up on the mundane stuff of other people's lives.

For example: "Stuck in the airport in London." That is interesting, how did they get to London and why??

OR:

"Playing on the beach with my kids right now." I wanna be there too....not "tweeting" that I think I pulled a muscle in my armpit training.

So now I'm a social media junky, learning how to update everyone with everything in one quick tweet, post or text message from my phone. And I have become a twitter pig, waiting for the day when the twitter peeps say, "enough already scenic halfer, ENOUGH!"

Multi-tasking challenge

So I can drive a car, talk on the phone, drink a bottle of water and twirl my hair all at the same time, but apparently I cannot tub and get two children ready for bed simultaneously. Shouldn't be that difficult.....but it is.

Last night while I tubbed Brady, Kaylee stood next to the tub buck-ass naked and sobbing "I want my mommy! I want my mommy!" And where was I? A foot away. What-ev!

While she was standing there sobbing & naked I said "Hey Kaylee, do you need to go potty?" Thinking now would be an optimal time to use the toilet. "No!" she says.

BUT as soon as I put her ass in the tub she started screaming "I need to go potty! I'm going to pee in the tub!" I took Brady to his room, showed him his pajamas, pull ups and socks (a simple three step process, one would think this would be a slam dunk) and went in to tend to an apparently exhausted 5 year old.

I hurried, scrubbed, washed, and rinsed as fast as I could. There was NO WAY in hell I was going to let her out of the tub until she was done. Man oh man, have you ever tried to quickly tub an angry 5 year old who is the size of the average 7 year old? I'd rather pull my toenails out.

I got her out, dried her ass off and put her, yes shoved her, onto the toilet thinking she was going to freaking explode. Tinkle tinkle. 2 seconds, that was IT! ARRRRGH! Are you kidding me? All that screaming for what amounted to a teaspoon of piss?

It was then that I realized Brady was being oh so quiet in his room. A sure sign that he's not doing what he's supposed to be doing. I figured he was playing with cars or reading books while completely naked (apparently the kid enjoys wearing just the birthday suit).

But oh no, he wasn't playing, nor was he dressed. He found the nearly full container of Vaseline and was "applying" it to his butt. And it was EVERYWHERE!!!!! Chunks of it all over his butt, in the crack, up his back, on his hips, and ALL OVER HIS FINGERS! EWW! And there was only about half of the Vaseline left. The whole situation was disturbing, and extremely hilarious.

I was laughing so hard and said "Wow Brady, what a good job you are doing" while trying not to pee myself. And ya know what that little stinker said? "You're WELCOME, Mom!"

I am not the daughter of the year

I called my Dad yesterday and wished him a happy father's day. We talked for a long time on my way home from the store. I do have to say he got his present last weekend but when I pulled in the driveway I saw a very naked Brady (he wasn't even wearing socks) running laps in the house and I hung up on my Dad and I totally forgot to call back. Sorry Dad, I do love you! Hope you understand that Mr. Junior Streaker totally derailed my thought pattern.

Dad, this is for you: Ray Stevens, The Streak video on YouTube.

Thank God for technology!

Serious proof that I need to up my meds:

Two weeks ago I started training to run the Scenic Half Marathon in Sandpoint on September 20, 2009. I have a blog for that too: http://anyonecanrunahalfmarathon.blogspot.com/

So basically I have 4 full time responsibilities:
1. Wife
2. Mother
3. Executive Director
4. Writer/trainee for the Scenic Half

Well, and #5 would be professional multi-tasker who always finds time to blog & tweet about stuff no one cares about.

In any event, have I bitten off more than I can chew, or can I handle it? Vote!

What makes it all worthwhile

So I had a bad day yesterday. Big deal. I am alive, employed, and have a beautiful family. Yesterday did go from bad to worse, but at the end of the day, it was all worthwhile.

Kaylee's game wasn't canceled so she played her last game and went to the pizza party afterward. All of the players were presented with a trophy. I sat and watched my sweet little angel baby girl clap and smile while her teammates were called up one by one to get their trophy. She had no idea whether or not she was going to get one, but it was written all over her beautiful face that she was so happy for her teammates.

At that moment, watching Kaylee and seeing what a wonderfully big heart she has, I completely forgot about everything else.

I couldn't have been more proud of my daughter. And, at the end of the day, that's what it's all about anyway.

Is someone trying to tell me something?

So here's my day so far:

The kids were both up at the butt crack of dawn today and therefore went apeshit during the morning routine. If one wasn't crying, it was the other one. And we did THE SAME DAMN THINGS WE DO EVERY DAY!

Then I spilled coffee all over my pants (but didn't notice until about 5 minutes before my luncheon) and had giant wet spots on them from trying to clean them in the bathroom.

Minutes before leaving for the luncheon, I was informed that the passenger window on the driver's side of my luxurious mini van was busted out by what appears to be either a giant (and now probably injured bird) or a baseball bat.

During lunch the internet didn't work for my keynote speaker who also had food poisoning and thought she was going to barf.

The sound system at the lunch didn't work so I ended up using my middle school teacher voice instead of the mic, but then they fixed the mic and I forgot to tone down my voice and pretty much blew everyone out of the room with the obnoxious sound of my voice.

I am also unable to have my window repaired because the vandals (or the bird) were an hour late in smashing it in so the window won't be here until tomorrow.

I couldn't get photos to email to the Spokesman to swap out in an ad with a 2 pm deadline

In the midst of trying to send the photos the police came to take my report on the mini van incident so I am not sure my changes were made.

The only way my day will improve is if thunderstorms cancel Kaylee's final tball game so we can just go straight to the pizza and beer. I really need a beer. Now.

Dear Dog Owners in my Neighborhood:

Thank you so much to those of you who let your dogs roam free in our neighborhood. Since we don't have any pets of our own we appreciate it when your dogs decide to use our grass as their personal toilet.

My husband and I were just saying how much we wished that we could have a pet and clean up dog poop on a regular basis. Thanks to you, we have the privilege without all the additional cost and hassle of feeding, watering and vet bills. That is really great, we get the easy part of pet ownership.

We also truly enjoy all the yellow spots your dogs are leaving in our luscious green lawn. We only put the turf builder on there and paid a lot of money to have someone groom it in the spring to green it up for your four legged friends anyway.

And thanks to you, we get to play this really fun game with the kids: "What shape is that?" Sometimes the little yellow dead grass pee spots look like a letter, most recently the letter F. We are hoping your dog can't spell and we don't find a u, c or a k this week.

FYI, our daughter is perfectly capable of sounding out words now though, so if your dog is that talented, please try & convince it to spell FUN or something a little more family-friendly.

The kids do enjoy having domesticated animals running around our yard as well, so we are very appreciative that you haven't invested in a fence to keep them in your own yard. We would miss them so. After all, why take the time to put them on a leash and take them for a walk or invest in a pesky fence or dog run when they can just run around unsupervised to get their exercise and fresh air.

We are actually considering doing that with our children. Unfortunately they wouldn't leave little brown smelly land mines or pee in your grass so I don't know how much you would enjoy having them in your yard. On the other hand, your yard probably doesn't have dog crap in it, so it's probably easier for them to play in. Hope you won't mind having them around.

Sincerely,

Your favorite neighbors

Okay, I admit it, I'm just weird

I see that most of you know me well enough to know that I was quite sober when filming the dance heads video. I will admit to one glass of wine, consumed at least 2 hours prior to the video production.

If you haven't had the opportunity to review the aforementioned video, here's the link to the post: http://blissandchaos.blogspot.com/2009/05/100th-post-and-it.html

Those of you who voted that I had lost all sense of self-awareness are partly correct. One must have self awareness to actually lose it. Technically, I have none. In fact, let me describe to you the scene just prior to filming:

Pam Houser, CEO of the Post Falls Chamber: "Amy, grab your purse. We're going to film one of those things."

Me: "Okay, but I haven't had nearly enough to drink." (who was I kidding?)

Pam: "You'll be fine."

Me: "I dunno, this is kind of embarassing." (as if that has EVER bothered me before)

I sort of drug my feet over there, you know putting on a show for the folks, like I REALLY don't want to do this but am going along with it to be nice.

At the beginning of the video you see me chatting before the music starts. Clearly I enjoyed watching myself on that nice body!!! Then, cue the music and I really hit my stride. And for those of you who don't know how it works, yes I could see myself the ENTIRE time which is why I really hammed it up.

I am a shameless attention grabber and I always want to be the center of attention. Can you tell?

Clay VS Adam

Okay I have really avoided watching American Idol this year, but am at least aware enough to know that some gay dude came in second. Funny thing is everyone acts like the's the first ever gay dude to not win American idol. And they also act like he's the first gay dude EVER on the show.

Puh-leeze.

Anyone remember Clay Aiken? Der! Like we all didn't know he was a homo the entire time he was on the show. And it's not like his closet gay-ness prevented him from winning, he just sucked a little more than Reuben Studdard.

That is what I find so amusing, that people would even remotely suggest that his gay-ness (and by the way he hasn't even confirmed it!) prevented him from winning the title. Give me a fricken break. I would bet that most of the voters are a bunch of fag hags anyway.

And I am not saying that being gay, not being gay, being gay and not admitting it, or being gay and knowing it but not wanting to tell a bunch of people is a big deal anyway. It's really not. Leave the poor kid alone.

Heck, he probably will have a better career than the winner anyways just like Clay Aiken. And what is up with their little cat fight? I bet they just totally love each other and can't admit it.

Go Away Diego, Go Away

Oddly enough I had a little extra time to sit on the couch with my children this morning and watch the tail end of quite possibly the most disturbing children's show on TV, next to Dora the Explorer.

First of all, there are a LOT of holes in the Diego cartoon series. How many children have a backpack that turns in to a jet pack, snowboard or canoe? Next time my kid is in an emergency situation I hope he doesn't start singing that stupid "back pack" song hoping it turns into something only MacGyver could dream up to save his ass.

Then he has this little baby jaguar sidekick. And he talks. And he actually rescued a mama bird and her two baby birdies from a nest. I don't know about you, but most jaguars I know would have made those birds a snack. Diego wouldn't be taking a picture of the cat & the birds for his rescue album, and the photo would be of the jaguar with some feathers stuck to the sides of his mouth.

I think the most annoying thing is that Diego repeats EVERYTHING, over and over and over. How many fricken times can you say "back pack" or "swim" or "flap your arms like a bird" with the most cheerful, happy and oddly nonsensical emphasis on the words?

Personally, I think Diego is on crack. No one is that enthusiastic and energetic all the time, nor would they imagine they could do half the things he does, unless they were under the influence of something. Now I REALLY wonder what is in his backpack...

Different kinds of milk

On the way to school today the kids each had a glass of milk (actually a sippy cup of milk but whatever).

We were talking about how good it was since they were given 2% instead of their normal nonfat. We talked about 2 %, whole milk, 1% and nonfat.

Kaylee mentioned they were drinking cows milk. As a follow up I asked what other kind of milk there was. Kaylee began listing off cow, goat and sheep.

Brady chimed in the following response: Chocolate!!

I have never been more proud, or more confident that he is my son.

I'm Famous!

Well, maybe just infamous:

http://www.khq.com/global/video/flash/popupplayer.asp?ClipID1=3773464&h1=North%20Idaho%20car%20dealership%20affected%20by%20nationwide%20Chrysler%20restructure&vt1=v&at1=News&d1=113300&LaunchPageAdTag=Search%20Results&activePane=info&rnd=38495499

Signing off,
Famous Amos

(DUDE! What is UP with that double chin? Get me back to the gym, man!)

Cell phone ettiquette

What in the hell has happened in the last few years that we have completely forgotten the appropriate ettiquette for cell phones?

Years ago I attended a funeral and actually watched the son of the deceased answer his cell phone and then talk, YES TALK, on the phone during the service. While I don't condone or excuse this behavior, it was so long ago that cell phones weren't necessarily in the mainstream at that time so people really had no clue what was appropriate.

A few years and several million cell phones later, people started to adopt more appropriate standards with cell phones. But now I think we have reverted to some highly inappropriate bevavior.

Lately I have seen some very disturbing activities among cell phone users. No, I am not talking about "texting" or "sexting". I am referring to the basic common courtesy people have forgotten to extend to one another.

At two T-ball games in a row this week, the coach on the other team (2 games, 2 teams, 2 different people) not only had their cell phone on, but they answered it in the middle of the game, which coaching their team. And then to top it off, they had actual CON-VER-SA-TIONS. WTF?!?!

Then, today I attended a luncheon meeting. Honest to God, I can forgive you if you forget to turn your phone off and it rings and you look sheepish and grab it, turn it off and freaking apologize. Who hasn't made THAT mistake once or twice. What I cannot tolerate is this scenario:

Lady A's phone started ringing, and ringing and ringing. She checked it and just turned off the ring, not the phone. Then Dude B's phone rang, and rang, and rang. Lady A's phone rang again. Dude C's phone rang, then Dude B. Just when I thought people had it figured out, Dude C's phone rang again. These people were all withing 5 feet of one another.

And you know what Dude C said? "I just dont' know how to work this new phone." Surely you know where the freaking power button is. If you don't, you shouldn't have a cell phone, let alone a driver's license and a set of car keys.

I think the most amazing thing was that no one else in the room appeared to be in the least bit bothered. In fact, they all looked kind of amused. I think I was the only one in the room who looked like they just smelled an 8 month old partially thawed dog terd.

Perhaps that is what bothers me the most, that no one else seems to care about interrupting an important thing like I dunno, coaching your child, or a volunteer speaker, for the sake of finding out what the hell you're going to eat for dinner.

My mom would be proud!

As we have previously established, it takes very little to get me excited (though Mark may argue that point!). I printed some coupons the other day from a website that my friend Deena sent me. Deena's money savings skills are superior to anyone else I know.

Honestly, the woman knows how to make the grocery store pay HER to take something off their hands. If you are all about saving money you have to check out her blog: www.momthatmakecents.blogspot.com because you can find all kinds of free crap on there, in addition to coupons and all sort of other stuff!

But back to my original story. I printed a bunch of coupons from here:
http://print.coupons.com/couponweb/Offers.aspx?pid=13927&zid=ym31&nid=10&varb=cy7phwew4g18jxdbcp7p&bid=alk0520130540wszhu8754117
and went to Safeway today to pick up some snacks & micro lunches for work.

Not only did Safeway have almost everything I had on my list on special, but I had coupons for about 75% of the stuff I bought. No joke, I saved over $45!!!!!!

I was so satisfied I needed a cigarette when I left the store.

Mother of the Year Alert

Many people who don't know me have no idea that I am a closet thrill seeker. Having children has tempered my adventurous nature (no more bungee jumping or extreme sailing) but I do love nearly peeing myself on the rides at Silverwood Theme Park.

Yesterday we hit the park for a fun family day of baking in the sun and riding the rides. Kaylee is just tall enough to go on every single ride in the park (with a parent). She waited all winter long to be big enough to go on the Corkscrew Roller Coaster. Our first ride of the season: http://www.silverwoodthemepark.com/corkscrew.php CORKSCREW! YEAH!

She is such an amazing little thing. She looks nothing like me: Big blue eyes, blonde curly hair, her dad's feet. Looking at her from head to toe you would never guess that she inherited any of my genetic material. However, strap that kid into a ride that makes most grown men cry and you will see her mother in her eyes.

Our final ride of the day is called panic plunge: http://www.silverwoodthemepark.com/panicplunge.php Top speed on this ride is 47 MPH. Kaylee wanted so badly to take it for a ride so we waited patiently in line for the thrill of her lifetime. I think her eyeballs popped out of her head on the way down. That kid didn't make a sound on the way down but sure enough, as soon as we got off she asked if she could go again. I couldn't have been more proud!

'Fess Up Friday

Wow! Where have I been? I really don't know! Busy? Maybe. Losing my mind? Definitely.

Here's my confession for today: I just ate a chocolate chip cookie. Most people would say "what's the big deal with a chocolate chip cookie?" The big deal is that I won't stop there. Oh no, later today I'll be offered dessert and I'll say no thank you. But then I'll think, "I already ate a cookie, so what's the big deal? I blew it already." Then I'll raid the chocolate stash at home because again, I've already blown it for the day. Then while watching a movie with the kids, most likely the 57th time I've watched the same movie, I'll eat an entire bag of microwave popcorn. Then more chocolate. So what I am really saying is that I have little self control or will power when it comes to junk food. Once I start, I just can't stop! But heck, it's Friday, so who cares anyway? Ice Cream parlor, here I come!

100th post and it's a DOOZIE!

Last week I was in Sun Valley, Idaho for the Idaho Conference on Recreation & Tourism and attended a really fun reception the first evening. I had the opportunity to participate in a really interesting program called Dance Heads.

The video attached speaks for itself, however I encourage you to vote on how many glasses of wine you think I consumed prior to the filming of what will no doubt eventually prevent me from ever holding any public office (as if this blog won't already do that!)

If you don't know what I look like, I am the one in the middle. If only my body really looked like that. And to be that flexible! My husband would LOVE it. Ah well, such is life.



Special thank you to Sandii Zauala at Dance Heads Idaho http://www.danceheadsidaho.com/ for bringing this to Sun Valley!

'Fess Up Friday

My confession today: We almost sent our nearly three year old red headed devil child to daycare in his underwear in the midst of the worst tantrum the child has ever had. We took him to the car screaming, crying and wiggling (seriously, the kid has a future in the WWF) until he begged us to let him get himself dressed. We relented, and he FINALLY put his freaking clothes on. The older he gets, the meaner he gets and the less patience I have for this nasty, nasty behavior. Throw my hat in the ring for mother of the year. But what the hell, at least he got dressed, right? Your turn....

'Fess Up Friday

It's that time of the week....time to fess up and post your link to Mr. Linky (seriously, why aren't more of you doing this? It is so dang fun, c'mon!).

My confession for the day:

Reason #974 why I hate Girl Scout Cookies: A box arrived at our house from my neice the other day. We only bought 4 boxes, there were 8 in there. 3 of them were shortbread, my personal weakness. I ate an entire tube of them in about 20 minutes. Damn Girl Scouts and their delicious treats.

Your turn!

Today

Today I just want to me Mom.

Today I just want to drink coffee in my PJs and play cars and barbies.

Today I want to be in sweats.

Today I want to unplug a toilet that isn't in my visitor center.

Today I want to eat Pixar Cars Mac N Cheese for lunch.

Today I want to curl up and read Dr. Seuss with two sweet little children who will snuggle up close and listen to my every word.

Today I want to tuck my little ones in for a nap so they can have an extra kiss, hug and an I love you from me.

Today I want to be home when they come wandering out of their rooms with their hair all messed up, rubbing their eyes perched atop their pink & warm I-just-woke-up-from-my-nap-and-couldn't-wait-to-see-you cheeks.

Today.

Time for a change

Why is change such a hard thing for people to accept? And why can't we as humans, easily separate our own personal desires from what is needed when it comes to change?

Me, I embrace change. Without change, I get bored. Sort of explains my resume I guess. But what I cannot handle are people who can't see the greater good beyond their own selfish perceptions of what is important.

I wish there was a manual for those of us on both sides of an issue to take a broader look at change and see it from the other person's perspective as well as what is best for the greater good.

I guess that is my learning for the day. The greater good. I suppose I need to take my own medicine and step outside of my selfish desire to be an at-home mom and realize that if not for being a working mother, we honestly wouldn't be able to live in this community.

Hopefully in this I can be an example to others who need to take a look at the bigger picture and understand that change, while difficult to accept and comprehend, can sometimes be the best thing that could happen.

Change is a roller coaster ride, you just have to know the risks but get in hold on tight anyways and see where it leads. You might end up feeling exhilarated and renewed for having taken the chance.

'Fess Up Friday

My confession today:

I am playing hooky and spending extra time with my kiddos instead of going to work. I didn't call in sick, didn't make up a lie, I am just spending time with my kids (well other than blogging right now) and I can hear them screaming and fighting in the other room so I best get in there to referee.

Your turn! Post your confession and link it through Mr. Linky to the right....

Uh oh, I think someone might be bleeding now.....

Life in a northern town

I finally figured it out. I figured out what my issue is. (well, one of the many that is) Life in a small town, for me, is a challenge. I often make fun of Sandpoint and its quirks...but in all reality I know now that it isn't Sandpoint that I don't like.

After all, what isn't to like about living smack dab between a giant mountain and a gorgeous lake? Why wouldn't you love the easy access to outdoor activities? Honestly, that is my favorite thing.

But yesterday I had a short drive out to Dover, all by myself. No sweet little kiddos to talk to, no Imagination Mover's CD to disturb my thoughts. Just me and the road. And the traffic.

Yes, I said traffic. And by traffic, I don't mean the quantity, because let's face it, we don't have a lot. It was the pace. Slow.

That is my issue. The pace of life. Things are slow, a "take it easy mentality." A feeling of "oh well, no worries" if something isn't on time. Why on earth would that bother me? Because it gives me time to think about all that I am missing out on.

In a city, everything is at a much faster pace. Hurry here, hurry there, get it done, make it happen. There's no time to reflect until bedtime, and then you're so exhausted you pass out asleep as your head hits the pillow. And why on earth would someone want to live that way?

Because you don't have time to sit back and realize that someone else spends more time with your kids that you do.

You don't think about the fact that despite your best efforts to the contrary, work puts itself in the front of the line and your family loses the race sometimes.

You don't have time to cry because you had to go to a 7 am meeting and you didn't get to see your kids.

You don't have time to realize that you haven't even taken an entire week off to spend as a family just because.

You don't have the opportunity to dwell on the fact that now is the only time to really spend time with your kids because one day they'll be in school, playing with friends all the time, in sports, and quite frankly they won't want your time.

But they do now.

And that is what occupies my thoughts in this town, every day.

Signs You're a Working Mom

• You have actually found yourself sleeping on the toilet after getting up to pee in the middle of the night.
• The only sound loud enough to wake you up is a blood curdling scream from the bedroom on the other end of the house.
• You consider 5 hours of uninterrupted slumber a solid night's sleep.
• The occasional Starbucks has transformed into a daily caffeine fix and you don't care where your coffee comes from, as long as its hot and highly buzz-inducing.
• You realize that the CD player is full of music about animals, the alphabet and the occasional cartoon character.
• You can't remember when it happened, but you enjoy the aforementioned music and know all the words.
• You accept the fact that no matter what you wear to work, you will have small handprints made of breakfast somewhere on your person.
• You can't remember the last time you willingly worked late.
• You can't remember the last time you didn't have fast food at LEAST once a week.
• You can't remember what life was like before you had children. And you don't care!

'Fess Up Fridays

In honor of the last Friday of Lent (also known as Good Friday) I am starting a new series:

Welcome to 'Fess Up Fridays, courtesy of Mr. Linky (you are gonna love this)!

My confession: Last night at Zips Drive-In (yes, mother of the year here bought fast food for dinner for the kids, but only really healthy corn dogs, french fries with a tootsie pop for dessert) and I ALMOST had exact change, I was only missing three pennies. I scrounged around my purse, cupholders and the car mats and found three pennies. One of them had a chocolate chip stuck to it (at least it LOOKED like one) and I gave it to the lady at the window so I didn't have to use the credit card. She quickly switched it out to a "clean" penny (I think she didn't believe me that it was chocolate, but in her defense it did kinda look like a terd).

Now it's YOUR turn for 'Fess Up Friday. Blog your confession for today and then post a link (with a comment) where it says "Mister Linky" and 'Fess Up Fridays. Can't wait to read all those confessions. If we confess, that means the Easter Bunny will bring us something right?

Just thinking

I am at work, actually working (I swear) and I kind of got a little sidetracked. I literally have a shrine of photos of my children all over my desk and computer (I count five photos alone just taped to my monitor).

Yesterday was a tough day for me. I won't go into details because my boss and boss-to-be read my blog (you know you do!) but suffice it to say that sometimes I need a reality check of what is most important in life. Those photos of my beautiful children are the reminder of why I'm here. They bring me back to earth when I feel I am being swept away.

Being a working mother is, at times, the most difficult and frustrating job. It's one that you can never get right. It's the toughest job you'll never love.

Remember when you were a kid and you played "Red Rover Red Rover"? You held hands on one end of the field, and if you were lucky enough you were on the end, so the risk of a broken arm was reduced 50%.

You stood there, holding on as tight as you could.

Waiting. Watching. Hoping. Praying.

Suddenly, someone comes screaming across the grass, running as hard and as fast as they can, 5 seconds seems like a lifetime.

You stare, wide eyed, breathless, waiting to see where they will smash their body in the hopes of tearing apart those arms, holding strong together.

The best possible outcome is that someone else's arms linked to someone else's arms are separated and broken apart.

But sometimes, inevitably, it's your arms that get torn apart, no matter how hard you hold on.

And so it is being a working mother.