The true story of Party Bear Teepants

See this beautiful white fluffy bear? He's called Party Bear. He is Miles' one true love. Really. He loves this thing a ridiculous amount. Why am I posting about this bear? I'll tell you why.

Party Bear got his name 3 days after Miles arrived home from Korea. He was a gift from his godsister at the airport. Ryan and I put him in the crib with Miles and the two of them had loads of good things to chat about.

Miles was up all night chatting, laughing, and all around horseplaying with this bear. In the middle of the night. All night. So from then on...he was named Party Bear.

Party Bear has been part of our family from day one. He goes everywhere with us. EVERYWHERE. And he smells god awful. Like a combination of pee and maple syrup. No my son doesn't pee on it, but for some reason, he stinks like that. And I do wash him. Although as of late, Miles has recognized PB is a getting a little thin in the seams. So he won't allow it. *gag* I say keep that stinky thing out of my face.

Miles just had his adenoids out yesterday. He's doing absolutely amazing. Never would guess the kid had surgery yesterday, but he's great. Anyway...he was allowed to bring a stuffed animal or blanket with him as a comfort.

Last year he brought PB to his eye surgery. And he freaked out because, OH MY GOD!!! They dared to put Miles AND PB under the heated blankets. My poor kid last year, (4 years old mind you) while being induced into unconsciousness, stopped, yelled at the nurses through the gas mask that, "Party Bear is a polar bear! He doesn't like HOT!!!" Seriously. The nurses, and anesthesiologist busted out. That's my kid. Drama queen extraordinaire. Oh and major fact enforcer apparently.

So this year, they asked we wash said comfort item. Miles almost shit a brick. He only allowed me to wash "back up Party Bear" and said he would take that one instead. Only because he feared the REAL PB would fall apart in the wash..and he probably would at this point.

Anyway....luckily we had the same anesthesiologist and nurses as we did last year (freak coincidence for sure) and they all remembered to keep PB out of the hot blankets. No shit! They really did remember. It was hilarious. Miles smiled and laughed his way into la la land. (He imagines he is on the Millenium Falcon when he starts to drift.)

To drill the point home. Miles love his bear. I worry it will be "condemned" soon. I think it will break his little heart. Thankfully he has a spare. But it's not the same.

THIS is what Party Bear looks like after 5 1/2 years of pure unadulterated love.


*side note*
PB is not allowed out of Miles' room once he wakes up. Miles is almost 6 and he isn't allowed to carry a stuffed bear around all day. Cause that's as bad as him having a pacifier still. But he does go with us on trips and if Miles is sick.

Oh Miles-y Miles

He is a bike riding, DS playing, shiv stashing fool.

Seriously. That's a plastic knife he's stashed above his bunk bed. "Just in case"

That Little Claire....

This is my Claire.
In all her twirly whirly glory.
(Don't mind the hideous shit that is my kitchen floor. My grandmother had this linoleum.)



And with her serious curiosity in fairies. She really thought if she knocked on the door like it said, she would see one.

Sam

This is my great uncle Sam. He just celebrated his 90th birthday. He's my maternal grandfather's older brother. He is the last of his family.

I love this man. He is so cool.

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood

It's gorgeous outside today! The sun is shining, there's a bit of a breeze and I can wear flip flops and a sweatshirt! Ahhh....Minnesota in April.

My day began quite lovely. I slept until 7:30. Made homemade apple muffins....yum. Got an email from the Apple Store asking, "how was my visit?" and blasted them.

Then watched Parenthood from last night while helping Claire try on a million different clothes, just for fun. Sent Miles off to school. Ran some errand with Ryan and Claire. Had lunch.

Went outside and played Moon Sand with the girl. By the way. Moon sand is the worst invention known to man. It's so messy it MUST be played with outside.

Drew hopscotch on the driveway and taught Claire how to play. Saw that Ryan drew one too but forgot the number 8. Ha ha ha.
Watched Claire biff it big when she got jumping too fast downhill on the hopscotch board. I like to add challenge to the game.

Then did the Alphabet game. Drew every letter on the driveway and proceeded to tell Claire to jump to whatever letter I hollered out. See...fun AND educational. She only got about 85% of them right, but hey, she's only 3 1/2.

Ryan got the boy from school and now I'm sitting my big fat ass on a chair watching the kids. And Ryan's washing the outside of the house.

Yay Spring!!!!

I hate the Apple Store.

Today I had my first foray into the "Apple Universe".

Those big dumb hippie jerks.

Admittedly, I have an iPhone. And a, *angels singing*, MacBook. Don't ask how THAT happened. Talk to my techie husband. He's all over it. Me? Not so much. But I go with the flow and don't ask a lot of questions.

Unfortunately the day we got the, *angels singing*, MacBook, the power source didn't stay in or rarely charged. Something was wrong, but I didn't know what. So I just didn't worry about it. That's how I go with the flow. I ignore pretty much anything that will cause me stress, and or work.

But Ryan found out something was awry. And insisted we take it into the Apple store.

So today this is what happened to me.

I got to the store and was greeted by a very happy woman carrying an iPad. And she definitely wielded power. You could tell by the way she utilized the touch pad. Such force, such gusto! She asked me what I needed. I told her my sad tale. She then TOLD me I would need an appointment with the "Apple Genius". What.The.Fuck?

Appointment I asked? She said, yes...you'll have one at 1:40pm. It was only 12:15 and I was feeling a bit disgruntled at this point as I looked around to see about 10 Apple employees hanging out futzing with iPads. AND I had two 3 1/2 year olds with me. But whatever. I'm here. So I asked if they wouldn't mind hanging onto my laptop because it's kinda heavy and I didn't want to lug it around whilst chasing two little girls through Rosedale mall. They were fine with holding it.

So we checked out dresses. Of course. We went to Justice to see what I'll have to be buying in a few years. And we got ice cream to kill some time. Finally we head on back to the Apple Store.

I'm promptly greeted by another employee with an iPad. She informs me after looking things up that my appointment was in fact at 1:20. AGAIN....What.The.Fuck?

Here's how this shit goes down.

ME: The woman told me 1:40 before I left here. I've been trying to kill time.

HER: We sent you a confirmation email with your appointment time.

ME: She never told me that was going to happen. I didn't know to check. (I checked, and sure as shit there it is. 1:20. Damnit!)

ME: If I knew in the first place I was going to get an email I would have checked it and then known my appointment was at 1:20 and NOT 1:40 like I was told.

HER: Settle down. We can still see you.

*tire screech* Settle down? Really? You hippie who spends all your time role playing and sitting infront of your Mac. Don't tell me to settle down! I wasn't even upset. Maybe a little annoyed, but at this point.....color me pissed.

Then. The "Genius" told me once he saw me that it looked like "someone" dropped the computer. I assured him that it hadn't been dropped. He told me yes it probably was. I almost asked him if he was "Fucking serious?" I told him it was like this the moment we got it home. He told me that Apple would NEVER sell something in this shape. Dick. I said..well unless they actually inspected it before Ryan came home with it then, yes in fact it could have been a defect. Ugh.

All the while I have these 2 perfect little girls sitting in a chair together eating their ice cream. Thank god for THAT.

Screw you Apple Store.

A top 5 list that will make you feel bad for me.

To commemorate Ryan's travels, here are my top reasons to hate it.

Reason number 1: When it gets to be about 5:30pm I become slightly depressed that Ryan ISN'T coming home. And the realization sets in that I have to do the whole night routine, alone, again.

Reason number 2: The kids sleep in my room on the floor every night Ryan's gone. Not sure how this started, or why, but the constant and mind numbing snoring makes me want to rip my ears out and slap them on the wall until morning, when I can put them back into place to hear Claire whine to me about how it's too early and she's "still tired!!!!"

Reason number 3: I have to keep the house clean the entire time. Like when I go out of town, the house has to be clean. Cause let's face it...who the hell wants to come home to a messy house? Now understand. I am not a clean freak. I have "quirks" yes...but I mean the counters have to be empty, the closets shut, the toys picked up, the laundry done, and the house spotless. Until Ryan comes home, that's how it stays. When he walks in the door, all bets are off. (Maybe THIS is one of my "quirks" hmmmm food for thought)

Reason number 4: I end up spending way way WAY too much time with my parents. It's kind of a sickness. And then it just becomes cumbersome. And I can't see them for like a week once Ryan gets home. If I do, I find them terribly annoying and my mother is like a harpie nagging at me about one thing or another. God love her.

Reason number 5: I miss him. A lot. So do the kids, but I'm talking about me.

A few annoyances are as follows and in no particular order:

~Web cam visits with the kids suck. The connections are bad and the kids get bored after about 2 minutes. Then I'm stuck looking at myself looking at Ryan on a computer screen. Not attractive.

~I spend more money. Out of boredom I'm sure. But it's not good. Sorry sweetie.

~I usually don't go to bed until way past my bedtime. Makes for a crabby me, and the cycle continues.

~No one else is here to experience our children's less than stellar behaviors. Which in turn leads me to win parent of the century with my yelling, door slamming, and all around banishing the kids to their rooms.

~He misses out on all the really cool things the kids do when he's gone. And they are pretty damn cool.

All in all travel sucks. But really Reason number 5 is the worst.

Positive thinking better frickin' work

I met with my doctor today. He's the head of the Hepatology Department at Mayo. I have to go for more tests.

I most likely will have to have some major surgery. They call it a liver resection. It's a fancy way of saying...we're cutting up your liver and we will serve it with bacon and fried onions.

The cyst is bigger than originally thought, and it looks like Mickey Mouse. How damn adorable. *sigh* Ryan said we could keep the cyst and the kids would love to have it. Mickey Mouse shaped and all.

Either way...I'm not a super religious person....clearly. But I will pray, beg, pray, and beg some more to NOT have to have this surgery. It requires "several months" of recovery. Whoever decided it would take that long, doesn't have little kids.

I think I can put it off for a year or so. If I'm lucky maybe I won't have to have it at all. At least that's what "I" think.

Claire is the meanest 3 1/2 year old of all time!

This evening after Miles brushed his teeth, he was walking down the hall with the lights out. Then we saw Miles run down the hall like a lunatic.

In the dark of the bathroom, his sister was waiting in the doorway. She waited for him to walk by and whispered, "I will get you."

What the What? Mean. If it were me, I would have screamed like a fool, and ran into the driveway with my arms flailing about. Cause...everyone is safer outside. Duh.

Claire + Dark Bathroom + Creepy whispering = Meanest kid ever.

I don't like repetition.

I'm here at the Mayo Clinic AGAIN. For the second week in a row. Only this time, I'm driving back and forth every day. It's like that movie Groundhog Day. Only worse. Cause there's medical procedures going on.

Not horrible. But I only spend a total of 1 hour with my doctor a day this week.

I drive 3 hours total here and back. I meet with my physician for two 30 minute sessions. And then I sit and wait in between
sessions for 4 hours. I don't like this schedule.

It seems like a monumental waste of my time. You'd think I would take this opportunity to revel in the silence, and the "alone time", but it's not like that.

I'm in a hospital. One of the most popular in the US, and there are sick folks everywhere. People coughing, people sneezing, people barfing....etc...you get it. People staring at me...cause I couldn't look anymore bored.

Upside, if you ever need to be here, I know where the best and cleanest restrooms are. And tip of the day? Wear tennis shoes. The only people not wearing tennis shoes here are employees who have to "dress up", or women who want to attract doctors. And yes...there are plenty of "those" here.

I don't know where I'm going with this...

Oh yeah...I'm here. AGAIN.

In remembrance

Thinking of my friend Kent M. today. What a wonderful man, taken way way too soon.

Whenever I see the "Carlton" dance, I think of you friend.

They can call it the 14th floor, but I know it's the 13th.

Once again I'm at the Mayo Clinic. I'm here for 2 weeks. This week and next. Way to spend spring break. Right? I'm here so they can run a few tests and do some Physical Therapy.

Let me begin by talking about the "here for 2 weeks" part. I drive down to the Mayo Clinic and back everyday. It's about an hour+ drive. Not bad if you are used to commuting all over the cities, but once you hear what I have to do here...you'll know why it sucks.

Thankfully, yesterday (Tuesday), Ryan and the kids came here with me, and we are staying in a hotel until Thursday. Less driving this week, as I meet with my doctor 3 times a day. Next week it's twice a week.

I'm on the "14th" floor of the Mayo building. Really it's the 13th, but you know how those old timey architects were scared shitless of the 13th floor. I'm sick and dizzy from going up and down in the damn elevator 6 times a day. Up down up down up down...barf.

But I digress.

So I'm here....and it sucks. I am doing PT 3 times a day. 8:15, 11:15, and 3:15. I would rather have a broom stick shoved up my ass at this point. Let's just say this about the therapy. I'm uncomfortable. My body is ANGRY about it. It's somewhat humiliating. (If you know me in real life, you'd understand why) And...at this point, my PT doc knows me MUCH better than Ryan ever has or will.

There...that's all you get. You will blush and puke if you knew more.

On the upside of this "trip", we have friends here who have been amazing. My girlfriend showed me around Rochester. Fancy. Then they had us over for dinner last night. What a time. Our kids had so much fun together. And tonight, we are meeting for dinner and going swimming in the e-coli infested hotel pool. Good times.

Down side....sleeping with kids in a hotel. They snore, they moan, they kick, they fall out of bed. Miles slept with me last night and I swear. That kid was perpendicular to me all night. On top of that, if he hit any resistance with his feet, he kept kicking until "it" (ie: me), moved.

One may just forget where they are and why they're here. If not for the constant reminder of..."hello SJT. Have a seat."

Aaaaannndddd......cue elevator. AGAIN.

Happy Fluffy Bunnies

Yesterday, to help combat the major crabby I was dealing with, I and the kids decided to "do art".

I have this 3M, (yes I'm branding, but this stuff rocks!) Kids post-it banners. It's a long ream of paper that has post-it glue on the back and comes with washable markers.

So we decided to roll up our sleeves and make some masterpieces.

Claire's consisted of scribbles, people with hands coming out of their heads, and her name. Typical 3 year old business.

Miles on the other hand, insisted he was going to make an imaginary museum. So he had to replicate the paintings. See below.


You will find from left to right...

Doctor Octopus and Spiderman. A bowl of fruit. And the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

He said this is what is hanging in the museum all the time. How he knows this...I have no idea. The only museum he's been to is the Science Museum and the Children's Museum. But he has requested to see the Walker and the MIA. Good boy.

Seriously. He's only 5 so Rembrandt he's not. And his spelling is completely phonetic. But....really? I had nothing to do with it. Just helped him with his spelling corrections after the fact.

Cause I'm that mom and I can't help it.

Medical personnel make me crabby

I just want to complain about this for a while, and then I'll be done, and back to happy fluffy bunnies. I promise.

These past few months, I have been dealing with a grade A asshole at Mayo. He is disrespectful. He won't look me in the eye when he speaks to me. But WILL look at Ryan, as if HE is gonna do anything with the information I should be receiving. He also, on a regular basis, makes me feel like I am wasting HIS time. Like I said...Asshole.

Do I complain about it? No. Because I was raised to trust in my physicians. To not question them. To take what they have to say at face value, and if I sense they think I am wasting their time, well then maybe I'm wasting their time.

Seriously. Big mouthed me sits quietly by and takes it with a jar of vaseline and a smile. Gross. But after speaking with several friends about this treatment, I have been encouraged to complain. And I will....just as soon as they fix me.

Do I trust my doctor at the Mayo clinic? Yes I do. Do I like him and feel comfortable with him as a person? Fuck no.

Moving on.

My regular clinic is becoming a huge pain in my side as well. I have been sick with just the upper respiratory garbage for over a month now. I called them two weeks ago to have a nurse asses me and let me know if I should just come in or wait it out. After waiting 4 hours for a call back, I called. They said they never got the message. Huh? Really? I was pretty clear that I was sick and whatnot, so I just went for it and scheduled without ever speaking to a triage nurse. I felt bad..so there. Then my doctor prescribed and antibiotic for me.

I went to my friendly neighborhood Target pharmacy to get it, and WHAMO....they never received a prescription. OF COURSE THEY DIDN'T!!!! OF COURSE! Target then said they would get the prescription and call me when it was in. You can guess when they called....NEVER.

So I found myself back at the doctor this week. Still sick, but with that, and other fun things. So once I saw the doctor, she told me, "your test results are inconclusive. I will call you in 24 hours regardless and let you know." Prescription talk again.

And today....48+ hours later I have yet to hear from her. Yes I called this morning to find out what the deal was. And...I'm still waiting for a call back. 6 1/2 hours later.

So Claire and I ran to Target to get other meds. And LO AND BEHOLD......antibiotics were waiting. From last week.

Jesus H. Christ!!!!

I mean really. A full week and a half later and they had the balls to say...."we were wondering why you haven't picked these up yet." When I told the young chipper pubescent that I was the one waiting for a phone call, ballsy mcBalls said..."well those notes don't always stick to the bags. Sorry." Insert dumb annoying smile.

Here's the "thing" of it all. All these things lead up to the fact I will most likely have to take an antibiotic. Antibiotics wreak havoc on my system. No need for detail I'm sure. But I will be at the Mayo clinic for two freaking weeks having things done that I most certainly don't want to talk about. But.....if I had received the meds when I should have, I would be done taking them by the time I had to leave. Now....not so much.

Yep. I'm crabby about it. All of it. And now I'm going on hour 7 of waiting. You bet your ass I've complained to everyone who will listen. Including my HMO and the Target pharmacy.

Really. Hour 7!
Update: Hour 8 1/2. Still waiting. Three calls and nada. Those bums.

Whoa.

Upon reading about the girl who has been advocating for she and her girlfriend to attend their high school prom together, I ran across THIS article.

I knew there was still segregation in the south in one way or another, but fuck! Really? 2009 people!

How is it people are STILL so closed minded?

Some people in my life are not all that comfortable with the idea of gay marriage either. I am. I think it's appalling that it's illegal. It's embarrassing. I also will remind them on numerous occasions that not all that long ago interracial marriages were NOT legal in parts of the US. Granted it was primarily African Americans and Caucasians, but still. Thanks to a Supreme Court ruling that it was illegal to ban interracial marriage, things changed. That was 1967 people.

Thank god. Otherwise Ryan and I may have to go into hiding. Cause lord knows he is just about the whitest man I know and love.

Getting back to the prom debate.......

I'm annoyed and sad that these kids who are just trying to be themselves, can't, because people are still SCARED. That's right. SCARED. Bible or not. Please.....you can't help who you love and want to spend time with. Besides, when I went to prom, I spent most of the night dancing with my girlfriends. And they were a lot more fun.

The soap box is now put away.

It's gonna be here tomorrow.

Once again, the dreaded St. Patrick's Day is headed my way. I know it happens every year, but shit people. I really don't like this "holiday".

One of my friends, who also happens to be a Korean Adoptee, was mentioning punching, slapping and all around beating, anyone who ISN'T wearing green tomorrow. I say WTF?

When pressed she admitted it was because she didn't wear green on St. Patrick's Day when she was young, and therefore suffered the beat down of the white kids. So....I guess I should thank my mom for the "Power to the Little People" button, and the hideous two toned green corduroy overalls. But I'm not going to.

Even my kids said..."do we have to wear green too?" I told them no. My mom told them yes. Yeah. I know. How bossy is that?

Glad I won't be seeing my mom tomorrow. Her boing-y shamrock headband will be in full boing tomorrow. I guarantee it. The woman doesn't even like beer or whiskey. She does make boiled cabbage and ham for dinner though. I KNOW! Like wearing all that crap wasn't bad enough, I had to come home to boiled cabbage and ham. Ugh...like I said...scarred for life.

I am pretty sure my friend won't be calling us this year for a ride. He's a little older. A little more responsible. Ah...who am I kidding. I should be available.

I really want another one

Lately I've been feeling the bug. Yes the sick bug too, but mostly the baby bug. Lots and lots of my friends have either just had or are having babies. Or are trying like hell for another one.

I want one.

My kids are growing up so fast I can hardly stand it.

Miles is reading. EVERYTHING.

Claire is getting up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom and going back to bed. BY HERSELF.

I miss the baby time. I miss the 18 months to 2 year time. They develop their little personalities and are so much fun. I do love the things my kids are doing now too. They are learning and becoming people. Real little people who crack me up and make me crazy all at the same time.

But I long to hold a little baby. To feed a baby a bottle. To fall asleep on the sofa with a baby in my arms, snoozing away.

There are a few things stopping me from achieving this goal of expanding our family.

Roadblock #1: Money. We adopt our kids, and that takes money. Lots and lots of money.

Roadblock #2: The kids. Miles wants a boy and Claire wants a girl. I can't decide, but there would be mutiny. I just know it.

Roadblock #3: Ryan said flat out "NO". This is a biggie. I kinda need him to get another one.

I know. My BFF thinks I'm a little crazy. Cause let's face it. If I had been blogging about my life when we first got Claire, you too, would be saying...."Really SJT? Really?"

It was hard. Really hard. I swear, I cried everyday for months. I lost 25 lbs from the stress. But do I want to do it all over again? Well...not THAT particularly. But the baby deal. Yes.

I know it's a lot of work. I don't really want to think about this in my "fantasy" world of wanting another baby and thinking I could do it.

But....in reality, it's not going to happen. And that's ok. I love my kids. I love my husband, sane. But a girl can wish right?

I miss these babies. They're both around the age of 1.

Damn you zombies

I can't stop dreaming about Zombies. Zombies walking around. Zombies eating brains. Zombies shopping. Zombies cooking said brains.
Apparently this morning I was talking in my sleep, and told Ryan, "we need a new house to save ourselves from the attacks!"
Ryan laughed at me, told me we would need to fortify the house, and that I was dreaming go back to sleep.

Good idea.

I'm gonna do it.

Yep. That's little ol' me in the middle. Blowing out someone else's birthday candles. She didn't mind. She even told me so. Haha....

This is a very good representation of my childhood. I grew up in middle America. White suburbia. With white parents. In a white community. White white white. But my parents were awesome at making sure I was able to spend my childhood with other Koreans. There were probably 3 or 4 families we spent our time with.

We all were adopted from Korea and we all were about the same age. I didn't know any different. I was lucky.

I've decided to start writing a book. Not for the public, but for my kids. As you probably know both my kids are adopted from Korea too. Lucky me again. And I have found it terribly hard to find any books that shed positive light on Korean adoption.

I myself was so fortunate to grow up with so many people of color in my house. My 3 sisters are adopted from Korea, and my parents made sure we knew the world wasn't made up of just Koreans and white folk.

Growing up we had social workers from all over the world stay with us for months at a time. I've learned about so many other cultures it's, as Claire says, "Astounding!"

A few years ago I read a book by a Korean adoptee. She clearly had a negative outlook on her adoption and her adoptive parents. And I have to say...there was quite a lot of bru ha ha going on about this book. One of the largest adoption agencies in MN was pushing this book as something fantastical. I bet they thought, "OH SHIT" when they actually read it. I did not like it. It was so negative. I was upset that her story was so sad. And once again felt lucky that mine was not the same.

So I'm going to write a book about my experiences growing up Asian in a white world. There are very few negatives. I promise. I was sooooooo lucky to have been able to learn about my culture and not have it hidden from me. I want others to know there is a positive way to raise children of another race. It's not that hard people.

Just please......don't be afraid to tell you kids what some of the derogatory terms are for their race. I'll leave you with this little anecdote:

When I was 12, all the elementary schools were merged into one Middle School. The 6th grade! I had grown up with all the same kids. So when I moved into the "big" school, it was new and exciting.

One day a 7th grader yelled at me in the hall...."Hey Chink!" I had no idea what the hell he was talking about and proceeded with my day. When I got home, my sister Cindi was in front of the tv. She was 4 years old. So I decided to bust out with my I'm-so-cool-now-that-I'm-in-Middle-school-phrase, and said, quite loudly I might add, "Get out of the way Chink!"

My dad heard me. Yelled at me. Grounded me. And THEN explained what it meant.
Oh well...live and learn.

*The book has been started...I just have to get the motivation to finish it. Ugh.

Dreams

Ever have a dream about something, and when you wake up, you are so pissed off, you can't even stand it?

Or you wake up and you're literally crying? Or yelling? Or other scary goodness?

I have. I dream like a mother fucker. I don't like it either.

My BFF will have dreams about her husband and some improprieties, and she will not and cannot speak to him when she wakes up. She is seriously that pissed off at him when she wakes up. Because of something he did in a dream. I too will have the same reaction with Ryan if my dream was vivid enough.

Poor guy.

Or I will wake up crying my eyes out because my mom died in my dream and I couldn't dial the phone to call people about it. I have major performance anxiety in my dreams when it comes to dialing a phone. Go figure.

When I was younger, I used to dream about Freddy Krueger. He would mess me up. But as I got older, the real monsters crept their way into my life. I started dreaming about "him". Again poor Ryan. He would wake up to me yelling and pounding on things. Apparently I was trying to "get away" from my ex. And in my dreams I was not very successful. So I was fighting like hell. I went into therapy for that, and came out the other side a little better. But now I have dreams about "him" stealing my kids. And I wake up crying like a fool. For some reason I can't fight. I hate that.

My kids will laugh in their sleep. I love that. And from what I can tell, the only thing that is somewhat nightmare-ish to Claire, is Miles not letting her do something. I hear a lot of, "NO MILES!!!! LET ME DO IT!!!" It's kinda funny. Especially when she's in her room alone at 3 am.

Ryan dreams like crazy too. He panics. He dreams of creepy bugs getting him. Or giants looking into the house. He will also re-enact video games in his sleep. I DO NOT LIKE THIS....repeat...I DO NOT LIKE THIS. The end result in this, is Ryan being banned from some video game.

Example.

One night, Ryan was up playing Call of Duty. I was sleeping. Once he fell asleep he must have started dreaming about the game. I woke up to Ryan army crawling across me yelling, "GET DOWN!!! GET DOWN!!! OH MY GOD!!!!"

SERIOUSLY!

I thought we were being robbed and he was trying to protect me. So when I yelled my fool head off, it must have woken him up and he said, "What? Why are you yelling? Are you ok?"

So.....dreams in this house are interesting to say the least. I like the nights I sleep and don't dream at all. I do often dream about John Cusack (see # 18). But that's just weird.

I'm sure someone who can "read dreams" will read this and think, "this chic is weird." And you're probably right. I didn't even get into the bloody floor dreams. I don't know. I think I need help.

Valentine's Day

I know it's not "the big day" yet, but I have been bombarded with Valentine's mumbo jumbo.

Claire has told us Valentine's Day is her "most favorite, because of the pink and red." Makes sense to me. Miles loves it because he gets candy. Duh. And both kids have had parties this week. I have assisted with 40 valentine cards and valentine gifts for kids at school.

I don't remember my parents doing that. I do however remember telling Chad Sellman I "luuurved" him because he was blonde and cute, and I was in the 5th grade. And he better love me back damnit because I,ME, I joined the chess team to spend quality time kicking his ass in chess. And this all happened on Valentine's day.

But as I got older, I have never really cared for the holiday. Some say it's a "Hallmark holiday" for consumerism. Others say it's a way to make single people feel bad about themselves thus upping the junk food sales for about a week. I just really never cared.

My mom loves the holidays, and goes ape shit for everything including Arbor day, but she told me, she loved me everyday and that Valentine's Day was just another day for her to tell me that. I love my mom a ridiculous amount.

Talking to a friend of mine, I asked her if she was a big Valentine fan. I thought she wouldn't be, but she said, "I love Valentine's Day. It means flowers and chocolates. And I have to have a heart shaped pizza!"

I never thought of it that way. Funny. I mean really funny. A 30 something who HAS to have a heart shaped pizza for a holiday.

Well she and her husband are coming over here Saturday night, and of course we are having a heart shaped pizza for them. And the kids are going bananas for it. I mean who ever thought of shaping pizza was a genius in my children's eyes.

So this year Valentine's will be kind of a big deal around the Teepants household. Due mostly in part to my friend Rachel. But....the kids are making a point in telling me how much they love me and Ryan. EVERY DAY. It's kinda nice.

And Chad Sellman didn't love me back. I must have beat him in chess one to many times.

I need a serious break

It's been a while. I know. But like I said, we've been sick. I think we are at the tail end. Miles is still coughing, but he's not dying. So we're good.

I need a vacation. A real vacation. Like far away. Where someone waits on ME.

I'm getting crabby. Because of all the sick going on in this house, there has been a lot of "togetherness". I love my kids. I do, but really? I can only handle so much. There is a lot of fighting going on. They are bored out of their minds.

Yesterday we shoveled the driveway 3 times. So that meant we were outside 3 times. For hours. Yes it was fun, but it was a lot of work. Snow clothes on and off 3 times. If you do this, you know what a pain in the ass it is when the kid can't do it themselves yet. I have 2 of them. And then they fight to see who gets to go outside first. So not only do I have them arguing, I have them half walking out the door while I'm trying to get their stuff on. ANNOYING.

The one thing they are doing these days....competing. Who is the best? When Claire tells us a joke, Miles has to tell one that is a slight variation of her's just to prove he can do it better. Or when Miles is reading, Claire will talk over him and say "SHE CAN READ BETTER...Listen mommy!" It's constant competition here. I, just this morning during breakfast, heard this "transaction"

CLAIRE: I have to go to the bathroom.

MILES: I already went to the bathroom before breakfast!

ME: Well you haven't been eating your breakfast as well as your sister, so NO ONE WINS!!!!

AGGGGGHHHHHH!!!! That was the sound of me yelling, but also choking on the left over phlegm in my throat.

I really love my kids. I said that already I know, but there are some days I think I really need to reiterate that. To myself. Because sometimes, I just want someone else to take over with them for the day.

Someone else can make them take their medicine and nebulizers. Remind them CONSTANTLY to eat their meal. Get them in and out of the car a million times because they have school all over the metro area. (granted, the last one is kinda my fault.) Listen to them argue about who's better at everything. Make them clean up their messes. Get them to stop whining about every little thing because they woke up too early. And make dinner for 3 different people, cause Lord knows Miles won't eat whatever we're having. EVER.

Yes.....I need a break. I've decided. Thanks.

Sick sickity sick sick sick

The Teepants household is under siege. Three quarters of us are sick. And what is the best part of this you ask? The one quarter of us who is NOT sick is a three year old who can't drive, shop, clean, or entertain herself apparently.

I mean there is only so much Dora one family can handle. Although Ryan is happily clapping and singing along. Weird. I think he must have a fever.

It all started with me last weekend. I started to feel a little off on Sunday night, but it could have been cause of the game. Boo-urns. But sure enough...Monday morning, I was sick. Full blown sick. But at least there was no cough.

Ha. And then Tuesday the cough that keeps you up at night, reared it's ugly head. Yuck. Poor Claire didn't get to go to school this week, because I could hardly see straight let alone drive all day. Poor kid. Miles did get to go to school for 2 days before his cold kicked in. Then he got the cough and the stuffy head. All along, Ryan was telling me he was sick too.

I didn't notice him being sick. He was running in the morning like he always does, and seemed ok when he got home from work. Then last night after he went to Miles' conferences, and grocery shopping, he crashed. Sick.

So now he is home today too. We are all home. Keeping each other nice and sick.

The worst part is, Claire is NOT sick in the slightest. We all have very little sleep (for once, not because of her). And she has slept the night away. So the monster is raring to go. Ugh.

This cold thing-y should only last a few more days right? Cause we can handle only so much togetherness. And I mean TOGETHERNESS. In the living room. Watching Dora. Stepping on Legos. Coughing up our lungs. Together. *cough cough*

Regression sucks

(this is a very old photo of Claire, but the idea and the crying face are pretty much the same)

This past Saturday I was able to go out for dinner with a good friend of mine. Dinner, shopping, and coffee without kids. I loved it. But it was not without it's guilt. I should really learn to plan ahead.

After years of planning out my kids' lives, and scheduling them to the hilt, announcing that "I'm leaving" without notice, produced a panic and bawl fest I have never seen in Claire.

She was on her way up to talk to me about one thing or another, which I am sure was princess related, and I was on my way down the stairs. She said, "Where are you going?" I said, "going out with a friend. I'll see you later. I won't be gone long." Her response to that was to cry. Loudly. She said in between sobs, "I'll miss you. I'm just sad cause I'm tiiiiiired.....boo hoo hoo hooo....."

So we hugged it out. She was able to calm down after a bit, and I left. Ryan said she cried for quite a while after I left. And then went to bed, and woke up crying again. Oh Jesus.

Then when I got home, later then earlier, she woke up crying for me again. And it has continued every night since. I don't get it.

She has been really great at sleeping through the night these past few months. And now...it's over. It's like a mean trick. Kid sleeps through the night, and then when I get all good and used to sleeping more then 2 hours at a time...WHAMO!

Up every night since. Chatting with Lord knows who AGAIN! And waking up yelling for me. Only me in the middle of the night. Last night she was up for hours. She told me she was having a bad dream that I was gone and she couldn't find me. *ugh* Did you feel that little squeeze in your chest? I did.

Why? Really? Have I spent so much time with her that she is having separation anxiety? Jeez. The lady is 3 and 1/2. For crap's sake. Now I have to plan so far ahead to let the girl know I'm leaving it's almost not worth it to leave. SUCKY!

Suggestions? I'll take em.

You have NOTHING better to do?

This is my first foray into the wonderful world of Elementary School. Miles is in Kindergarten half day.

He is picked up by the bus in the afternoon, because the district doesn't want to have kids walking alone to school in the middle of the day. Makes perfect sense to me. Miles is a "walker". We live just about 5-6 blocks from the school. But his main walk would be on a pretty busy street. Yes there is a sidewalk, but he's only 5. So the bus...awesome.

Now, at the end of the day at 2:40 pm, I pick the boy up. Because once again, I don't think he, as a 5 year old, should be walking home alone, on a busy street. I don't want my kid to be a statistic.

But picking him up is almost like a full contact sport for suburban parents. The first couple of weeks, I was tempted to walk to the school to pick him up, but Claire said no. Meh...she's 3 and usually tired around 2:45. Then the weather started to get bad.

I would get to the parking lot and would have to drive around in circles until I found a spot. Usually I ended up parking on the street. While I waited for Miles to come out, one of the parents told me, HE was there at 2:00 and people were already lined up in the parking lot. 2:00PM!!! School doesn't even let out until 2:40. Fucking ridiculous!

I asked him what he does for that 40 minutes. He told me, "I read, and just look out the window." LOOK OUT THE WINDOW???? Really dude? I so want your life.

I on the other hand breeze into the lot around 2:30. I think that gives me ample time. And if the weather is THAT hideous, whatever. I'm a Minnesotan.

Sadly for me, my kids won't be able to walk home from school until at least the 5th grade. And even then I'll have to really think about it. Yeah I'm that mom...so what?

Just about 7 more years of this....only 7. *shudder*

*gulp*

Both my kids have recently been diagnosed with asthma. I don't know how they got it, but they have it. Miles' is strictly allergen induced. Claire on the other hand, well the poor thing is just an asthmatic.

I don't know how it happened. They aren't blood related at all. Both being adopted from completely different families. So I imagine it must be something in our house that is causing it. But we keep our house pretty darn clean as I am totally allergic to dust and mold. And the doctor assured me that kids get asthma. And more and more are being diagnosed with it. She said it is unlikely it is something in our house. Mainly because Miles' is allergy induced only.

I say oh well. But here's the *gulp* of it all. Set aside the fact my kids have not so great lungs and place me at Target pharmacy getting the Budesonide (for the nebulizers).

I went to the counter to pick up their prescriptions. Here is the conversation with the cashier.

Her: You realize this is for 2 different kids right?

Me: Yep. Weird right? (I totally want her to know I don't live in filth and my kids aren't second hand smoking 6 packs a day at my house.)

Her: Your insurance paid a little bit of it so that's good....but it's a little expensive.

Me: Yeah, I know. We pay 100% of everything until we reach our deductible and then the rest is covered by insurance. It's kind of nice.

Her: Good. Just wanted to make sure you weren't going to be surprised.

Me: Nope. Totally used to it, not a big deal at all.

Then the woman proceeded to ring me up. HOLY SHIT!

I looked at the screen to see "TOTAL DUE".....$569.95

Now, I understand medication can cost a lot, and many people pay much more than this, but it shocked me. A lot. When I hear the pharmacist tell me something is going to be "a little expensive", I think oh $100 maybe $150. But almost $600? Prepare a girl a little better please?

For 2 little damn boxes of the medication.

Of course I couldn't react, cause I was playing it cool to begin with....wouldn't want to let her think I was all talk. But thank the lord for the lady behind me who gasped so loud it scared me. (Like you don't look at what the person in front of you is paying for their shit.) So I got my meds. Two little boxes of 30 vials each.

I left the store and called Ryan right away with a, "HOLY SHIT! The fucking meds were almost $600!!!! What the fuck!!!"
Yeah.... all sense of cool went out the window at that point.

Oh well. At least my kids will be ok and we will meet our family deductible ASAP. That's good, cause I have many many Mayo Clinic visits coming up.

*side note on all of this....poor little Miles will now be "that" kid who has glasses, probably will need braces, asthma, only wants to join the chess team, and is obsessed with Star Wars. But he's gonna make me proud. I just know it.*

Junk food

As I was making myself breakfast this morning, I started thinking of all the foods I never got to have growing up. And all the stuff I can get for myself now that I buy my own groceries.

One of those things was Pillsbury Toaster Strudel.

Sounds gross now, of course it does. But I had a friend....Tara B. who every morning, she was able to have one. HER parents were cool. They didn't tell her she could just have toast with jam and it would be the same. Oh no...she got the NEW Toaster Strudel. I would go to her house sometimes in the morning before school, and have breakfast with her. I LOVED those days. I got to try toaster strudel. Once. Of course she had other stuff, like Lucky Charms, and Trix, and Fruit Loops. All stuff I never had. And when you're a 4th and 5th grader, that stuff is the shit. I ate generic Corn Flakes or Raisin Bran and certainly toast with jam. I would even fold it over to try and make it seem like I was eating a strudel, but it just wasn't the same.

A few weeks ago as I was shopping, Claire and Miles pointed them out and said....let's try those! To which I promptly ripped open the freezer section door and slapped them in the cart. YES! I was gonna buy them.

Now, Claire doesn't like them at all. She took one bite and scrunched up her nose. And then asked me for bread with butter and jam. *eye roll* Miles took one look at them sitting on his plate, and very politely said, "no thank you mom". So now I have a box of Toaster Strudel. ALL TO MYSELF....mmmwwwuuuuha ha ha ha ha ha.

To my distaste, they're not like I remember. I would be inclined to toss them, but I paid like 3 dollars for them, and Ryan would shit a brick if I just threw away food willy nilly. They will be reserved for "company".

Another thing I loved loved loved and NEVER got at home, were Doritos. Check out this awesome bag...you're jealous they aren't here aren't you?

My other good friend growing up, Amy H., was fortunate enough to have them and Cheetos when she opened her magical snack cupboard in her dining room. It was chock full of yummy chips (not generic tortilla chips or stale potato chips in a box), and scrumptious Hostess snack cakes (I never really was able to have cake other then birthdays). When I would go over to her house to play, we would have a snack of Doritos with melted jack cheese on them. OH MY DAMN! They were heaven.

To this day, when I find myself not hungry for "good" food, I will bust out that combo hands down. Fresh fruit and veggies be damned! I love Doritos with cheese. So does Claire. That snack happens about 1 time every 2 or 3 months though. So maybe the eating habits I grew up with have stayed.

Of course I have taste tested some of the other "forbidden" treats I didn't have the luxury of trying while I was a kid. And 9 times out of 10, as a grown up, I can be glad I didn't have them. But I can see a kid loving it. Sugar and salt up the yin yang.

I too have let my kids try these craptastic concoctions. To Ryan's dismay I might add. (He's the healthy one in this relationship.) My kids aren't fans of most of the junk food. Junk food to them is....freeze dried apple slices, or pretzels. FREAKS right? Of course they love the cereals that have toys on the box or colorful cartoon characters, but it's a rare thing for them to have that stuff. Although Miles is on some kind of Trix kick right now. Thank god they have "whole grains". *another eye roll*

Well....back to my healthy breakfast of Trix and toaster strudel. Gotta get rid of that crap.

A Teepants Christmas

Christmas this year was good. The kids had so much fun. We got stuck at my parents house over Christmas Eve night. The four of us slept in a tiny room. And my mother had a Santa hat that was so ridiculous it was unbelievable. Not to mention, my uncle put it into a context that was just....well....inappropriate.

First and foremost...the gifts.
Miles got himself a DS. He loved it until he realized it wasn't like other videogame systems, and proceeded to tell us, "Maybe I'll like it a lot when I'm 6." Not likely. He just kept playing if for a while and was finally comfortable with it.

Claire on the other hand....LOVED her gifts. Her favorite was this Sleeping Beauty Vanity that I stood in line for, no shit, 3 hours to get her. Ugh. Just the memory of that gives me the shakes and the sweats. But the girl sat in front of it, no kidding, for 2 hours admiring herself. Watching herself eat an apple. Putting makeup on herself. Watching herself watch television. It was absurd. And now it's in her room. She keeps it very tidy. And her grandparents gave her a fake princess CD player. She set it on the edge of the table and now has music whilst primping. Oh brother.

We did some cookie baking with friends and family.


We got snowed in at my parents house....(there was a blizzard here, or what some call a blizzard.) We totally could have made it home, but it was useless to try. We just had to turn around the next morning and head back to my parents house, so we stayed.


And Miles made sure I called Santa to leave a message as to where our location would be. He didn't want Santa to be confused. Well Santa WAS in a complete state of holy-shit-I'm-exhausted-and-can't-stay-awake-one-more-second-Oh-wait-I-gotta-fill-those-stockings-where-is-Santa's-fucking-helper-RYAN?
And OF COURSE we had Diego with us. Can't go anywhere without that spooky little shit.

The topper was my mother's Christmas hat. I don't have a photo of it, because only video would do it justice. Let me just tell you, it was a Santa hat, that the point of it moved around. Side to side, up and down. And it wiggled around. Erect. Oh my lord. It was hideous! My mother was just pleased as punch with it. I couldn't figure out what it looked like. I loathed it. That much was for sure. And then my uncle came in, saw it, pointed, laughed, and told my mother, "It looks like something for penile enhancement! You have a penis pump on your head!!!!" And he proceeded to double over in laughter.

I love this time of year. Family, friends, cookies, gifts, sleepovers, and penis pumps. Happy Holidays!

Nice!

We were talking about Christmas coming up. Claire is so excited she's going to burst into Christmas-y goodness. She doesn't understand all the gifts, but she really loves it. And thinks we should have Christmas gifts all the time. Duh!

Miles on the other hand, told me, "I like the gifts, but I'm most excited to see my friends for playdates, and see my family!"

I love that kid.

Oopsie Daisies

The other night, Ryan and I were....let's just say we weren't on the same page with something. And we weren't hiding that fact. Miles had toys all over his bedroom floor, and Ryan wanted him to clean them up.

I on the other hand, thought, who cares? He's 5. Let him have them on the floor for a while. Needless to say, Ryan and I weren't even going to agree to disagree, and Miles ran to pick up his room.

Off he went, when he noticed his dad was picking up his toys.

Ryan told me later that night, that during the clean up, Claire waltzed her little butt in there, and asked Miles,

"How did you get Mom AND Dad mad at you?"

Ryan was quick to let both kids know we weren't in fact mad at Miles at all. WE were arguing with each other.

But leave it to Claire to find out what her brother did, so she wouldn't make the same mistake.

Eh...smart kid.

I'm not gonna complain

It's pretty chilly here in MN. Today's high was 6. Not bad for mid-December.

I have many friends on the book of face who, on a regular basis in the winter, complain about the weather. I don't begrudge you friends. I do however, get a bit worn of the same complaints. Here's why....

It's fucking Minnesota. They don't call it Minne"snow"ta for no good reason. It's gonna snow here. It's gonna be cold. We are very close to Canada, which I am sure is MUCH colder then here. We aren't that close to the equator. Winter + Minnesota = Ridiculous fucking cold and snow. Oh and there's wind too. Added bonus.

But people...really? Geez give it a break...there's a lot of complaining on a daily basis from some of the same people. Buy a parka! Wear a hat, gloves, scarf, boots and something else warm. Drink hot cocoa, hot tea, hot coffee, or just swig some booze. It's what we do.

One of my friends, always complains. I said to him, "Stop complaining, you live in MN! Get over it already!" He replies with, "I have the right to complain even though I know I live in MN! Blah-blah-blah-reason-I'm-complaining." I like this friend a lot. We went to college together and he is a really cool guy, but seriously with the winter complaining. I think he's lived here his whole life. This or Wisconsin, so he really should just get over it. But friend if you read this...I really do have lots of love for ya!

Either way....I love MN winter. I like when I read that someone loves this weather. Another friend wished E-brake shittys for everyone the other day when it snowed buckets. Awesome of course. I know it's cold. But shit....so what? And on that note...here is a true story from today. And keep in mind it was a whopping 6 degrees today as the high.

~Driving Claire home from pre-school today, I witnessed something truly ballsy. A woman was driving down the highway, smoking a cigarette, with her head hanging out the window. She was probably going 65 mph and looked completely at ease. Either she loves MN winter too, or she is trying to keep from getting busted smoking. I don't care why. I just thought it was pretty damn amazing. All things considered.~

I've had enough thank you very much

Last night was horrible. I took poor little Miles to the doctor yesterday after school because he was clearly sick. Yep...all indications were for sinus infection. How an infection got into his little tiny nose I'll never know, but he has one.

The pediatrician prescribed some med I haven't heard of before, and off we went. He was fine after some Motrin. The doctor said, "he's not contagious with sinus infections, go ahead and do what you want...he should be fine." Famous last words.

So, Miles hearing this, decided he felt good and wanted to go to my parents house for dinner. He was fine until mid dinner time.

He stopped eating, put his fork down, and told us, "my chest hurts." Ugh. I had given him one dose of the medication. And because he had never had it before, I was worried he may be having a bad reaction to it. So I had him sit down and watch tv for a bit. But his breathing got really labored. I called the clinic. They said, "get him to urgent care or the ER."

So we were about 25 miles from our house, and my parents had no clue as to where an urgent care clinic was. So we packed Miles in the car and tried to drive home.

This...was not happening. For some reason, it was bumper to fucking bumper at 7pm last night. I don't know what was going on, but it was freaking Ryan out. And at that point in the drive, Miles was having a tough time staying awake...so HELLO ER!!

We found our way to a hospital about half way between my parents house and our house. Ryan's parents came to pick up Claire, and we sat.

After some work up and all, it was decided by the physician, that Miles spiked a fever so fast and so high, his body went into a bit of shock, hence the shaking, labored breathing, and all and all panic. No panic on my part however. I'm like a rock, until it's all over, then I turn into a sloppy pile of melted jello. But damn-it if I'm not cool as a cucumber when it all goes down.

So he's home. Medicated. No fever now, but that's all thanks to Motrin and Tylenol. Hopefully the antibiotic he was given will get rid of the sick. He's NOT allergic to it either. Thank god.

But...I don't ever want to do this again. Having my kid in the ER looking like he is passing out cause his breathing isn't good...No thank you. I know many people have dealt with this before, and I am certainly not the first, but I would prefer to never have to do it again.

The perfect Christmas photo, and I'll tell you why.

Yes yes, they're cute and all, but this photo, this ACTUAL photo sums up my kids perfectly.

Miles IS this kid. He tolerates. He tolerates just like his dad. He tolerates his sister hanging on him, bossing him around, yelling at him, hugging him, and loving him all the day long. Miles is the epitome of big brother.

He smiles politely. He literally "puts up" with everything. With a smile on his face. And he loves his sister. You can see it. You can see the tolerance in his face, as well as the love he has for her.

Claire on the other hand doesn't put up with much she doesn't like! She is theI'm-gonna-do-it-and-I-don't-care-if-you-like-it-or-not! kinda kid. That attitude is clear. But she is happy. And she loves her brother a lot. A LOT. She relies on him. She trusts him. She thinks he is soooooo cool.

She is loud and boisterous and bossy. Just like someone she's related to. She does what she pleases, and she smiles BIG while doing it.

This is why I chose this photo as our holiday card this year. Cause it IS my kids, my family, and my whole every day.

I'm a lucky mom.

Worst. Christmas. Songs. EVER.

Ok..here's the deal. My kids and I LOVE Christmas music. I don't know why. But it makes me feel happy to hear all these silly old traditional holiday tunes. My favorite thing to do, is to decorate the house for the holidays with my kids and listen to Christmas music. I Heart the old songs by Perry Como or Bing Crosby. And who doesn't like Elvis' Blue Christmas? They make me feel warm and fuzzy.

But recently I have heard these two songs incessantly! These songs make me angry. Very angry.

The first one is ridiculous. What makes me the most angry is I cried the first time I heard the damn thing. Ok...to be fair, I had PMS, and I was sick.....so....there's that. But EVERYTIME after that I loathe it. Basically, I don't think that Christmas songs should make you think of death. I'm just sayin'. I have copied the chorus of this song below.

Christmas Shoes By Bob Carlisle
"Sir I wanna buy these shoes for my Momma please
It's Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size
Could you hurry Sir?
Daddy says there's not much time
You see, she's been sick for quite a while
And I know these shoes will make her smile
And I want her to look beautiful
If Momma meets Jesus, tonight."

SERIOUSLY!!! And they have a little kid singing that part too. And it's a *gasp* country song. Gah!

The second isn't so much a bad song, but one line annoys the hell out of me. We all know it. It raised a shitload of money for people in Africa living with AIDS back in the early early 80's, but just read the line I posted. I don't need Bono telling me that I'm lucky. I know I am. It just seems like rubbing it in at that point in the song.

Do They Know It's Christmas Time? By Band Aid
"Well tonight thank God it's them instead of you"


NOW to put things back where they belong....


Don't you feel warm and fuzzy now? I do.

I'm thinking Arby's.

Have you been to Arby's lately? I have. I'm a closet fast food lover, and to be honest, I had hoped my significant other would be too. But alas, he is a true believer of *gasp* healthy food. So that is how we live. Healthy Healthy Healthy.

For years Ryan has avoided, at ALL costs, Partially Hydrogenated Oils, or PHO. Not to be confused with the Vietnamese Pho. But in the wake of PHO being banned in New York restaurants several years ago, many fast food places have ceased in using PHO as one of their ingredients. YAY! Is what I had to say....

Sadly there aren't many here in Minnesota, land of the BIG portions, that don't use PHO. But Arby's does. And holy shit do my kids love the curly fries. It is a special SPECIAL day when Ryan says, "let's get Arby's." My kids love it.

So the other day we were out and about, and it was lunch time. We were no where near home, and the kids were blabbing about food, or something like that. And we drove our little selves to Arby's.

Let me start by saying....they are the cleanest fast food restaurant I have been in. They are also, without a doubt, the most customer driven business. I have not experienced anything but unusually courteous service. I mean, not just nice....but way over the top nice. Ryan and I comment on it everytime we're there. It's just amazing.

I have never been to a restaurant where the service workers are so attentive. And it's consistent people. No kidding. They have this bell that encourages you to ring it on the way out if you liked their service. Of course my kids ring it everytime they get the opportunity. But what IS unusual, is all the staff thank us for ringing the bell. Seriously! All the staff.

Anyway...go to an Arby's. Their food probably won't kill you as fast as some of the others out there, and you will be amazed at their service.

I also have to say, I didn't write this for Arby's. I can prove it by saying...shit damn fuck in this post...but I was so surprised....I had to say something. It's weird....I have paid many many dollars for very very fine food, and the service has been ungodly...but pay a few bucks to Arby's and get stellar service....Even if you don't eat the fast food, go there and get a soda or something....seriously!

It's all about the timing, and learning things about others you would never expect.

So last year at this time I was ranting and raving, in a good way, about a new obsession of mine.

I have continued to be mildly obsessed. I have re read those books. I have seen the original Twilight movie twice. It's all I talk to my 12 year old niece about when we see each other. And I have girlfriends who are major Team Edward.

Not that he isn't cute, but at the same time, like my previous post indicated....I'm 36. And Eric the Viking from True Blood....so cute. He's a vampire viking for the love of God!!! Is there really a contest?



Anyway I digress.....

So I was planning on going to see New Moon with a girlfriend I haven't seen in about 9 years. Weird? Not really. She was a good friend in college, and thanks to Facebook, we are friends once again. But...I got the stupid food poisoning Wednesday night and had to seriously recover all day Thursday. So no go on the midnight show. Ugh....and it was gonna be so cool. Standing out in the cold, waiting in line with a bunch of teenage girls and their moms at midnight. Did I mention I was "mildly" obsessed?

Anyway, my other girlfriend H...saw it twice yesterday! TWICE!!!!

Now...the reason I am posting about not being able to see this movie yet is this....

I know with 100% certainty I WILL see this movie at least twice. Once with my BFF when she is healthy enough to have lunch and see the movie, cause it's how we do...and once with my cousin and niece, because I promised, I love them both, and we are joined at the soul by Twilight.

But....I am miffed. I learned today one of my friends , who I never EVER imagined would see this movie or even knew what it was for that matter, has seen the movie. What the fuck?!? Seriously Kelly. I didn't know you were a closet Twi-hard. Even though you didn't like the sparklies? Now I KNOW something is wrong with the land I live in, if you saw it before me. Yeah...I'm jealous. A lot.

I'm 36

Today is my birthday. Yay! I'm 36. I'm not going to lie about my age cause that's just soooo 29 years old. Ha ha.

But this year, I feel 36. I'm not sure what feeling like 36 years old is, but I imagine it's this.

I woke up this morning feeling hot. Hotflash? Then made breakfast for me and the kids. Ate said breakfast and proceeded to get heartburn. I mean really eggs? Heartburn on my birthday? Rude.

On the upside, I don't have liver disease anymore. Thank you Mayo Clinic. And my kids and Ryan gave me really cute birthday cards, and The Beatles Rockband. Cause I'm sick addicted to that shit. (Get ready Jill and Heather!!!) I also get a new stove today! (We had to get all new appliances this last week. And the stove is the last to arrive. Not to shabby.)

I always start a new year at my birthday. Not January 1st. So this year, I decided to get a haircut and lay low. I want to make this year all about being easy, manageable, and relaxing. After this last year, I deserve a year stress free. At least I think so.

So my new sassy hair, is both new, and sassy. And according to Claire, lacking in princess hair. I cut almost all of it off. Miles said we pretty much have the same hair cut. We don't, but it IS damn short.

I'm feeling older then usual today. But my family is trying hard to remind me I don't have time to feel old. Just to feel like mom. So bitching aside.....I'm 36 today. And I am ready for a new and improved year. Don't let me down cosmic bunnies. Or there will be hell to pay.

Halloween 2009...just a tad bit late.

Halloween! I loved it! What a fun night for us and the kids.

I'm not one of those parents who goes all out and dresses up to hand out candy, or to go trick-or-treating with my kids. But I am the kind of parent who throws caution to the wind, takes my kids as far as they want to go, and lets them eat all the candy they can stomach that first night. That way I get to have some too.

The evening started out nice. My parents, and my sister-in-law with her husband and their newly adopted daughter came to trick-or-treat. We had pizza for dinner, pushed, shoved, and wrangled the kids into their costumes, and made my parents stay to hand out candy.

We toured the neighborhood. And went to the local fire department, so the kids could sit in a fire truck and ambulance.

My kids are no fools when it comes to getting free candy. But....they are scared shitless of random dogs running like deranged lunatics to the front door with no screen. After 2 houses with dogs launching their little dog asses out the front door towards Claire, she was pretty cautious at the rest of the houses.

And there was one genius, who when he opened the door, had some kind of gross mask on his face, which freaked my kids out a bit, but they kept going, determined to get the snack sized peanut butter cup. When they politely said "trick-or-treat!" he yelled, "TRICK!!!!!" and sprayed them with silly string, and some kind of liquid. What kind of liquid you ask? I don't know.

Hilarious you say? I do too. But come on dude. Play to the audience. My 3 year old just about had an aneurysm and backed away so fast, if I hadn't been standing on the step behind her, she would have fallen down their steps.

After that, the kids were tired. Done and ready to go home. They didn't care how much candy they had. Miles said he was tired, and Claire kept quoting her favorite cartoon, "don't eat too much candy. It will make your tummy sick." So she decided she had enough to eat and NOT be sick.

We headed home and let the kids spread out the loot. Then about 5 pieces in, they both asked for some water, brushed their teeth and said they were done.

Halloween was fun. I like free candy. I sadly have had more then my fair share. Stupid Butterfingers. They call my name at midnight sometimes. What's a girl to do?

All the kids together

Claire was pretty excited to tell us what kind of candy she got

At the fire department. You can SOOOOO tell that my sister-in-law and Ryan are related. Can't you?

The Bitch is Back

Hide your children. Seriously. Boys....avert your eyes if you don't want to read a brief synopsis regarding THE PILL.

Yes. I'm back on the stupid pill. I hate it. But my doctors think it will help me with my "sickness". We'll see.

I was sporting some major rage-o-hol today. Just ask my youngest sister, who pretty much got the brunt of it. Ugh. It's like a demon has taken me over and I can't help myself.

All I want to do is fight. Then cry. Then fight some more. Verbally fight that is. But fight with whoever pisses me off. Or looks at me. Or even makes one mother fucking peep. I want to rip their heads off with my bare hands, and then play tether ball with it, all the while yelling at the big, dumb, head for looking at me funny.

When I was a younger lass, I was on the pill. It seemed to be the right thing to do. Duh. But I did notice I was a lot meaner. A lot crabbier. And I found it really hard to spend time with other women. Hence most of my friends before the age of 25 were men.

I'm worried, I may lose my shit again. Worried that my poor unsuspecting husband, kids, extended family members, friends, and pretty much anyone I ever utter a word to, is in for a major tongue lashing. For no reason. Or at the very least a major eye roll, cause you probably said something stupid.

To be honest. I'm most worried about those of you who just know me sans pill. I am a generally nice person. Some people call me a "people pleaser". I said SOME, not all. But really, I am usually, an upbeat-go-with-the-flow kind of gal.

When I was TTP (taking the pill) I was a monster. I ran into a girl I knew in high school many years later in life. She told me, when I was in school, she was afraid of me. AFRAID OF ME! Seriously. I am 5 feet tall with shoes. And I probably weighed 95 lbs back then. I guess it makes some sense. I was a senior. She was a freshman. But me...scary? Hysterical.

So....friends, family, I'm sorry in advance if I turn into 18-year-old-monster-bitch-from-hell. I'm worried it may happen. But rest assured, happy, lovely, friendly, laid back ol' me...is still in here somewhere. I just may use more "colorful" language. And give you the stink eye for looking at me. I still love you.

Oh yeah...Halloween photos soon. Too crabby now.