Last days in Minnetonka.

My friends D and B moved to Texas many years ago. They made their triumphant return a year and a half ago, and moved into this lovely condo that over looked Lake Minnetonka. I know....brats.

Their place was stunning. D with Miles.


But they are moving this week to a new place in Eagan. And from the photos, the place is just as gorgeous.

When we would visit D and B, it was like going on vacation. We would plan on staying for lunch and then we would go for a walk, to bike ride, or to the beach, and then end up staying until well past dinnertime. It was resort-like, and would just suck you in. We always felt so welcome. Being they were about 50 min away, we didn't do it a whole lot, but when we did, we made a day out of it.

Our last trip out before their moving, was biking down the Three Rivers Trail from Minnetonka to Wayzata. It think it was about 15 miles, but it was wonderful. I was sent these photos from D and B. It is from our stop at the ice cream shop.

It was hot. We were grubby. But we were with friends, and it was so fun.

D and B with the kids.

*in honor of D and B's big move*

AHHHHHHHHHHHH.........................

Bliss. Pure unadulterated bliss. The weather is glorious. It's 70 degrees, breezy, not humid, and I can wear clothes head to toe!

This is MY kind of summer. Beaches? Bikinis? Shorts and tank tops? Be damned!!!

Give me my jeans and Chucks any old day. Oh, and the ratty old t-shirt from the thrift shop. Low maintenance mama. That's me.

Well...the shower went off without a hitch. Unless you count the flooding in our laundry room. From the ground. UGH! I guess it's karma for bitching about having to do the shower in the first place. I probably deserved it. (For those of you who missed that post *I deleted it*, I hosted a bridal shower for my cousin who lives in DC. She was in for the week.)

Our drain that goes out to the nether regions of the sewer system, seemed to have picked THIS day to back up. Oh lucky day. The day I used the garbage disposal more then I should. The day I washed tons of dishes. The day many an "older" women used my powder room. The day I had 30 people over for a bridal shower. And I had wine. Thank God for the many many MANY bottles of wine my cousin Liz brought over.

I called Ryan and gave him the OH-SHIT-THE-BASEMENT-IS-FLOODED panic call. And I called my neighbor for a wet/dry vac. Apparently we had one, but damn if I knew where it was or how to use it.

So after seeing the basement, it looked like someone threw up fresh herbs and milk, I wet/dry vacced the shit out of it. My sister helped thank the Lord. My mom finished up the rest of the shower business. Then Ryan got home. He promptly took over. Angry as hell cause now the carpet is trashed. Angry at NO ONE, but angry nonetheless. Poor husband. Here he was doing me a favor by taking the kids out of the house for hours, and then gets a call that, "OH flibberty jibbit! The basement is flooded. And with food." *gag* (No foul language was being used as I didn't want to offend any of the 75+ club in my living room.)

Shower....good. Basement.....bad.

Ryan said it's because, for "some fucking reason", the drain in the laundry room is the highest point in the floor.

Sounds like a lot of work to me. But it also sounds fucking stupid. Damn living in a swampy area.

Someone call the WAAAAmbulance!

It's mother fucking hot out! I hate heat! I am one of those people who don't bitch in the winter when it's 30 below...but anything over 80 with humidity...all bets are off.

And it's been in the 90's here. HERE! In Minnesota. I know it's 'summer' but seriously!!!! 90's???!!!???!!! And it rained this morning so there is dewiness in the air. It's gross.

I spent the morning with the kids at a park with a friend. She had with her, her 3 boys and her "grandson". Ok..I'll explain that for a sec...my friend adopted 3 boys from Korea. They are 7,5,and 2. Her foster son had a boy who is 2. Hence the grandson in quotes. She isn't old enough to have a grandson per se....but she has one nonetheless.

So we were at a park all morning. Not too bad considering the park was completely shaded. Then we came home after lunch. The kids wanted to play outside. It's hot out now. My thermometer says it's 91 out already. GAAAHH!!!

Because I hate hot, here we sit in the garage with the door open. The kids are "fixing" the old broke down treadmill with tools. With bike helmets on. Don't ask.

I'm fixin' to go inside and cool off. (That was for you Jill...did I use it right this time?)

I hate hot. I think my ass is sticking to the Star Wars chair in the garage. Shit.

Ah Breakfast

So today at the breakfast table I was singing......Lost in Emotion...you remember that old 80's song by Lisa Lisa and the Cult Jam? Well either way, Miles covered his ears, smiled at me, and said..."Please mom. Just. Don't."

Claire looked at me and said, "I don't like that! I DON'T LIKE THAT!!!"

I mean seriously. I have a BEAUTIFUL *eye roll here* voice. And that song.....it's a classic.

No wonder my kids like to sing OVER me.

I'm no Simon Cowell, but I am pretty sure Lost in Emotion is better then their rendition of Spider Man. Which I am now being made to listen to at top volume. Jeez...it's 8:30 am for crying out loud.

Why my parenting is not too shabby.

I'm sick again. I swear no one believes it can happen to one person as much as it does to me, but it does. Just your standard, queasy stomach and ridiculous fatigue. If I didn't know better, AND I DO, I would think I was pregnant. But since that is impossible....I'm just sick.

Anyway....as I am sick, I have decided, I'm an ok parent. Here's why.

Yesterday I was in the shower, and Miles had to use the bathroom. We DO have more then one bathroom in our house, but he must have had to go BAD! I'm really not a fan of my kids being near me when I'm in the buff, but....he WAS pounding on the door like a maniac. So I let him in.

This is our conversation.

MILES: Mom, is it super steamy in here to make you feel not sick anymore?

ME: Yep. Sounds good to me.

MILES: I don't like it when you're sick. I feel bad for you. And we don't get to see you, cause you are sleeping and not feeling good.

ME: Yeah, I know. I don't like it either.

MILES: I don't ever want you to go to the doctor either.

ME: Thanks. Can you turn the overhead fan on when you leave please?

MILES: Yes. And I won't flush so the water gets crazy. And I will shut the door tight to keep the steam in. I love you mom.

Now...I normally don't get all squishy about my kids here. Cause, I usually will start my posts with....What the Fuck?!? And this is regarding my children. (As I am typing, Claire is stripping down naked. Jesus! I have to tell her.."would you put your dress back on please?")

But Miles warmed my heart yesterday. As he is getting older, I am noticing along with the not listening, he is becoming a very compassionate person. I like this a lot. He is very protective of his sister as well. When he's not trying to UFC style wrestle her, he is making sure she is safe. I love this.

And Claire is becoming a little care taker too. When Miles gets hurt, she always tells me, "I feel sorry for my brother." And it's not cause SHE is the one who inflicted the pain. She genuinely worries about him if he is upset.

I think it is my role as their parent to help them become productive citizens who think for themselves, and love big. I want my kids to be compassionate and care about other peoples feelings. Cause Lord knows there isn't a lot of that around these days.

So......knowing my kids can even love me and worry about me when I am gross, sick, crabby, and tired, leads me to believe Ryan and I are doing just fine thanks.

*As I finish this post, Claire is whipping me with a washcloth yelling, "I'm hitting your booty mom!!!!!" God damn it! What the Fuck?*

Don't make me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry.

This friends, is my mantra as of late. Then I turn into a big-green-don't-fuck-with-me-Korean.

It's only mid June and the kids are making me want to off myself. I can only hear, "MMMOMMMM!!?" so many times. It's not that I don't like being called mom. Oh no. It's the shrill, come-fix-this-shit-NOW voice that accompanys it.I plan things to do with the kids. To keep them happy and entertained, and yes, once in a while I try to throw some educational element into it. No reason other then, the voice in my head that says, "lazy too?" So I do it.

But it doesn't seem to be enough. I mean...who doesn't enjoy an hour trip to Costco. I am teaching them about marketing, economics, and some other shit. I'm sure of it.

I have found if we have ONE at home day a week, where we go nowhere, wear our jammies until dinner, and just do whatever we want, the kids love me a little more then if we didn't do this lazy hazy thing. But now, they are getting restless. The simple suggestion of an at home day, encourages whining, complaining, and all around unpleasantries. Mostly from me. After hearing all the whining and complaining. I provide the unpleasantries.

They usually end up sitting in their rooms for a few minutes, just so I can prove who's boss. And then I give in. Tell them they can play together while I figure out what to do. Brats. And yes, I'm a sucker too. I only give, when I forsee a day of fighting, messes, and me yelling so much I lose my voice. (It's happened.)

The worst part about this whole thing? Miles has stopped listening to me. Utterly and completely. He does it with no apologies, and no sense of doing it. Ugh. I say, "Do you even care I *insert whatever*?" His response is usually, "NO. I don't." So matter of fact. I loathe this attitude.

His sister is NO better. NO BETTER! She is almost worse. With her sassy talking back. Ignoring me and swinging at me when she's mad. And not swinging like punching. More like a windmill. It's wierd. But effective. She always gets me. And I have to say, I can only hear, "WHATEVER!!! BLAH BLAH BLAH!" so many times before I go fucking postal.

Yes, in fact I am warning most everyone who knows me. Please for the sake of my sanity and whatever kind of relationship we have......don't piss me off this week. Next week may be ok. But just not this one. Thanks. The management appreciates it. And by management, I mean Ryan. Cause he hates when I'm crabby, and the poor man has to come home to me at the end of the day.

Odd photo of the day.

I have decided to post odd photos of the day. Mostly photos of crap my kids do. Cause let's face it.....they're odd kids. Case in point......

This is Miles' Barbie doll sized Han Solo. Miles, my almost 5 year old dressed him. So maybe my, techie-geek-star-wars-convention-goin' son has fashion designer on the horizon instead. Either way.....LOOOOVE the scarf. And yes, he pulled the jacket down like that too. Ryan says it's "funny a-a-a-nd a little confusing."

Some bitches are crazy stupid!

So, my sister in law and her husband are trying to adopt a little girl domestically. She is 2 and lives here in MN. Things are moving along slowly. They are hopeful. At this point in the game, the have temporary guardianship. Better then nothing I must say.

My SIL and her husband are posting photos of them with this little girl on their facebook pages. Seems ok to me. Just keep in mind, they were the couple you knew would NEVER have kids. NO MATTER WHAT. But things change. People change and they have fallen in love with her. The response they are getting from people is kinda surprising.

Most of their friends seem happy for them. Shocked, but happy. Then my brother in law starts this thread with some crazy fucking hose beast, who has decided that she will "circle the wagons" to save this child. Cause apparently she knew my BIL long ago and knew he wasn't keen on kids. Back in the day. Anyway...she began telling him how he needs to be careful because this girl may have attachment issues. Cause you know, "All adopted kids, mostly international, have attachment issues." Dumb bitch.

I know plenty of adopted people. I AM an adopted person. My kids are adopted. We are ok. I hate people like her. I guess she works as a "screener" for children with attachment disorder. And sadly most of them are adopted. But what does that say? That all adopted kids have it? Or that she just sees a majority of them? God...she is stupid. I wanted to blast her, but Ryan, being the practical adult in this relationship, encouraged me to, "leave it alone".

Either way, I know my SIL and her husband will be good parents. They already love this little girl. They are doing the best they can, and they don't need some psychotic bitch telling them they are making a bad decision. She is basically telling them they are making a mistake cause they didn't want kids before. And that they will be bad parents. AND she is trying to scare them away from it. I want to scratch her dumb bitch eyeballs out.

I'm not mad. I'm just saying.

Here's a photo of MY ADOPTED kids. Don't they look totally un-attached, un-healthy, un-loved, and un-happy to you? *Note* I did not say they looked sane. But neither am I.

Thanks for letting me rant and rave. That lady is a dumb bitch. In case that wasn't clear.

I would kill for this right now.

Yeah. I'm dreaming of cupcakes. The plain, good ol' fashioned, yellow cake with delicious chocolate buttercream. Not the shit in a box and out of a can. The real-honest-to-goodness-kill-someone-to-eat-these-fresh kind. And I would kill.

In a previous life I like to call BNS (before no sleep ie: kids) I was a baker. Not trained at a culinary school mind you. But I loved to experiment with different flavors and I loved to bake. And...Ryan can't eat PHO, Partially Hydrogenated Oils. Well, can't is not really true. He just won't. And I don't blame him.

Either way, Ryan has this inborn thing about desserts. All the "teepants" family has to have their sweets. So in an effort to make my husband love me even more *not possible* I began baking. It was also a huge career change for me. I was working in the Vocational Rehab field for years. And at the time I left it, I was working with felons. Mostly sex offenders. And needless to say, Ryan preferred my change of career.

I say career cause, my baking turned itself into a small teeny tiny little business. I made cakes and tarts. All my own recipes. And sold them to a restaurant in the cities. Ryan worked for a large financial internet company back then, and I would bring samples to his team, get their feedback, and start to sell. Nothing like getting a bunch of super rich techies to love my baking. I was able to provide desserts for the company functions as well. So. My baking wasn't terrible. It didn't kill anyone. And it kept me busy waiting for my little Miles.

I even won an award for a tart I developed. Yes, 'toot toot'. Horn I own tooted, but God damn! I was able to sit at my kitchen table, figure out a dessert, test bake it, test run it, submit it, and win $2500 to Kitchenaid.com. I liked it. And I was in some kind of chef publication. Dessert and recipe done and done. Oh...it was a dark chocolate mousse tart with fresh raspberries. I know. Yummy.

I had some really good ones too. Have I made even one of them in the past 5 years? Nope. Not even the thought of it. I have made the chocolate cake. But.....that's about it.

So every once in a while. I dream of yummy homemade stuff. I happen to be on a cupcake kick right now. But for some reason I have little to no motivation to make anything. Could be lack of sleep, but I venture a guess.....I just want someone to do it for me. Or if I go really deep into the recesses of my mind.....I want to have that 'alone' time I was afforded then. Just me, my stand mixer, and some 80's tunes. Oh lovely day.

Wish you were here. Love Miles and Claire

M: This is my tent

C: That is MY tent. It is my Hello Kitty tent. It says HELLO KITTY!

M: No it's mine. Heh heh heh.

C: IT'S MINE! IT SAYS HELLO KITTY HELLO KITTY!!!! BLAH BLAH BLAH! HELLO KITTY!

M: It's mine. Ha ha ha ha...Mom use this in your blog today.

Done and done. Verbatim.

It's happening again.

No sleep. Woozy head. Sick tummy. Yep...I'm re-reading "the books".

The woozy head and sick tummy are from the reading. The no sleep is due to Claire. But am I surprised? No. Not in the slightest.

She has been waking up every night at the dead hour. She comes into my room, whispers, "mommy", and then proceeds to lay in her little bed on the floor, whispering to God knows who. It really does drive me fucking batty.

I have no patience in the middle of the night. Let alone for a 2 year old who is talking to "spooky Diego". Who, by the way, IS NOT in the room anymore! I don't even tolerate Ryan's snoring at 3 am. I just bellow out..."you're snoring!" And then I poke him with my elbow. Some people call that abuse. But whatever. There aren't bruises and you would never be able to prove it in a court of law. Also are you getting 6 hours of sleep a night with a 2+ hour wake up call half way through? That's right. I didn't think so.

So....that is keeping me awake. Does it wake Ryan? Sometimes. Does he handle it? Not usually. Once in a while I will hear him say very sleepily, "Claire go to sleep." The end. That's it.

Well for the woozy and wonky head and tummy? It is totally my fault. I am re-reading the twilight books. Only because, I have to. And I heart them. Don't judge.

But, the back and forth of my eyes is messing me up. It happened before. Why and how your eyes and what you see are connected to your inner ear and getting dizzy I don't know. But they are. So I have to be careful not to make myself sick again. Seriously....don't judge. I mean it.

Maybe I need to read the books in the middle of the night when Claire gets up. How that will relieve my head and stomach issues due to reading, is beyond me. But it will entertain me, and keep me from hiding under the blankets in my own bedroom like a 6 year old girl. And I won't be in the dark with a whispering kid.

Sometimes, it just has to be said.

I have PMS. I know....TMI. But I don't care. Cause...well....I have PMS. So there.

This weekend we have been running around town. Going to 3 birthday parties for kids. It is great for the kids. It was nice for us. Yesterday I was able to help my girlfriend with her son's 1st birthday. We were there from 1:30 till about 10PM. Ryan won the watermelon seed spitting contest. And we have the trophy to prove it.

Today we went to a double birthday party for friends from pre-school. It was at an indoor playground. Then cake and other assorted activities, outside. In the cold. But all was well. We ended up having dinner with the in-laws tonight too. I don't know how that happened. But it was nice.

Tonight, after the kid's baths, we were drinking some hot cocoa and having cookies. It was quite lovely. It's been super cold here even though it's June. So hot cocoa was in order.

I have been a bit short with the kids. I think it has to do with the weather and the watermelon daiquiri's my girlfriend's dad made last night. Well either way, both contributed to my "sleepy" nature today. And with all this activity over the past few days, it has been very family oriented. Sometimes I just need to have some....oh.....say.......sassy-pants-alcohol-induced-lady-talk-with-my-BFF-and-her-BNE's. Which by the way I got none of this weekend. Shit!

As I was ruminating over this fact, Ryan, in the only way he knows how says this.

"You're kinda crabby today." At this point he is laughing at himself and then says, "I have to laugh after that even though I really mean it, cause then it's funny."

Yep. It is. And don't forget the fact, if you laugh when you say that, even though it's true? I won't kill you with my fork.

*a bit of a disjointed post today, but I wanted to emphasize, that after 11 years of being together, Ryan knows he can still call me out, and how to do it without bodily harm*

Can we say....EASY?

Ok...some of these following images will be blurry. Only because there is major motion involved, and I have a shit camera.

So.....that being said...here's what happened.

Ryan took the kids to the Home Depot Kid's workshop today. As he does every first Saturday of the month. It gives me a few hours of quiet time. I love it.

Today however consisted of an impromptu visit to the Valu Thrift Store. Basically East St. Paul's dumping grounds for shit-you-don't-want-anymore. The kids fricking love it. I stay far far away. It smells like your grandma's attic. *gag*

Ryan did the right thing before he came home though. He called to tell me he DIDN'T do the right thing at the thrift store.

Observe the two purchases I was NOT ok with. Look closely. You will know. And keep in mind. I have a 2 and 4 year old. Well almost 3 and 5 but, WHATEVER.




The last/third purchase, I was ok with. Miles has been asking for a microscope forever. He is that science-y nerd-y type. Just like his dad. And now they are dragging Claire down with them.












So either way. Ryan + shopping with the kids= S-U-C-K-E-R.
I told him he can't EVER tell me, "did the kids really need that?"

What I have been up to.

I don't have much to talk about. It has been kid-centric over here. Kids activities. Kids needs. Kids wants. Kids sassing me. Kids fighting. Kids playing. Kids exploring. Kids not sleeping. Kids not listening. Kids driving me fucking nuts! Kids kids kids. So here are a few photos from my week.

*note* There aren't any with me pulling my hair out. Yet.

Our visit to the Flint Hills Children's Festival. We went with Ryan's WHOLE family, including our "hopefully soon to be" niece. (My sister in law and her husband are hoping to adopt her.) It was fun...but you can tell how Claire felt about being photographed. Plus it was hotter then a bitch out there in the blazing sun.

End of the year class picnics for the pre-school. There were tons of 2, 3, 4, and 5 year olds running around the park. The kids had so much fun playing at the playground with friends they have made. They had a picnic lunch. It was Miles' last year at pre-school. Next year....Kindergarten.

Miles monkeying around

Claire kinda eating lunch.

Claire and her friend Anya. I have a really cute photo of just their little feet in the sand...but....I don't like to admit I let her run in the sand at a public park barefoot. There was all kinds of shit in that sand.

Screw it...here are the chubby little piggies.

And last but not least....my beloved wild rose bushes. Ryan has been landscaping this area for the past few days, and he finished it today. It looks lovely. These rose bushes are from my Grandmother's homestead in SD. I took them after she passed away 2 years ago. I miss her. And these roses have thrived here. *sigh*

Welcome to My Morning.

Breakfast conversation in the Teepants household.

MILES: I never get Taffy....

ME: What did you just say?

MILES Nothing. (sly look of course)

ME: No really....what did you say?

MILES: Nothing. (still slickery sly)

ME: I didn't hear you.....what don't you ever get?

MILES: Nothing! (laughing his damn fool head off now)

CLAIRE: He said he never gets taffy! (said very sassily I might add)

*as soon as she said this Miles stopped laughing, dead in his tracks and gave his sister "the look"*

ME: Ha ha!!! Your sister will tell me everything. And by the way you just had taffy after lunch yesterday with your cousin. Remember?

RYAN: It's from that show Lazytown . I guess Stingy says it. (Stingy is a bratty character who is...stingy. I loathe him)

ME: I hate that show.

CLAIRE: How many times do I have to yell at you?

RYAN: Hmmmmmm......? (looking right at me no less)

ME: Uh...oh yeah....that MUST be from Lazytown too. Tee hee.

Are you a drunk smoker?

Brian S. is. I have decided a drunk smoker is someone who has quit smoking, but only smokes when they are "drunk" or in Brian's case, pass a bottle of beer someone else is holding. Heh heh heh.

Years ago when Ryan and I FIRST quit smoking, we did well. We really quit. And then it started. I said, "I'll only smoke when I am drinking or drunk." Which was a pretty damn good plan to me as I didn't drink all that much anymore. Liver disease you know. Anyway......I loved smoking.

I found myself drinking every weekend. EVERY WEEKEND. I was a certifiable drunk. Tee hee....whoops a daisies. But I wasn't alone. Ryan was too. Team work!

And then...we realized not only were we spending money we didn't have on cigarettes, we also added beer on top of that. Yikes.....so....Hello quitting for real. And for good. *sigh*

Anyway, my good friend Brian has quit smoking. I was proud of him. But he has gleefully admitted to me, he knows he will always be a drunk smoker. I called bullshit on that. I told him he's just lazy. I also told him that he has no will power. I don't know why I did this. I really don't care one way or the other if he smokes or not. I want to. Can't blame the guy. So basically I give him shit, just to give him shit. We have that kind of relationship, that I love. I fuck with him for no reason. He laughs at it, and we move on. He knows I am ALWAYS kidding. At least I think he does. Cause he laughs a lot. A LOT.

I think I should be a drunk smoker. Last time I got drunk it turned out bad...very bad...very very very bad. Maybe I just should be a smoker again....Nah...Miles would definitely give me a bad time about it. He hates the smell. And he tells my sister that, "smoking makes your lungs black and you will die." From the mouths of babes. And his pre-school teachers who run frickin' marathons.


*this post is Brian's punishment for ditching us for his girlfriends the other night. Girlfriends named Ryan A. and Jeff F.* Yeah I named them.