hello temptation. . .

So my going without desserts and chips until the Red River Rally was short lived.  I’m still doing good on the sweets because I don’t like them to begin with; however, chips are my kryptonite.  And it never fails that when I decide to lose a few pounds and cut out chips, I forget to look in the pantry or the fridge and notice the Cooler Ranch Doritoes or spinach dip.  You can never go on a diet on a whim.  It’s not that the statistics are against you because you need to be truly focused and motivated, it’s the Cinnabon Cinnamon Roll that your pregnant friend brought over that’s looking you in the eye and saying, “Just one little bite surely won’t lead to more.”  Damn cinnamon roll.  I thought I had the desserts under control.  Stupid spur of the moment diet.  Ohhh, did I mention that today is the first day of this stupid spur of the moment diet.  What will power I have?!?  Stupid diet.

the ponyhawk. . .

So we always cut our hair, despite Daddy’s objections, for the summer because it’s just to hot with long, stringy hair.  And when your daughter refuses to wear it in a ponytail for naptime and bedtime and slobbers and sweats and her hair is literally stuck to the side of her face, well, now you know why we get out hair cut for the summer.  I was almost ready to set up Ellie’s 1st hair cut appointment when I put her hair up yesterday to go play outside.  She has the baby mullet that I so hate and her bangs are constantly in her eyes.  HOWEVER, her hair is perfect for the ever stylish. . .PONYHAWK!

Look at my baby pose for her pictures. . .or she’s really trying to reach the box of cereal in the door way.

“I grow tired of you taking pictures of me.”

“Here’s some dirt Ellie.”

“Ellie!!  You’re dropping the dirt!!”

“CHEEEEEEEESSSSSEEEEEE!”

Movie Time Monday. . .

Like Jess, I too enjoy Movie Time Monday.  And like many great inventions such as the light bulb, the telephone, etc., the baby gate rates right up there.  I’ve done my laundry and put the gate up blocking the hallway.  I’ve already done my exercising of hopping over the gate 50 times since 7:45 a.m. too.  Everyone was up by 9:30 a.m., finished and cleaned up breakfast and ready for Movie Time Monday. 

On my 37th trip over the gate and down the hallway to put up clean clothes, I heard something very strange.  Very strange indeed.  Imagine Emma (4), Emi (3), Ady (19 months) and Ellie (16 months) in the living room.  All girls that have been talking since 6-months-old.  And what is it that I am hearing. . .quiet.  Most people would be like, finally, some peace and quiet, but I know these girls better than that.  That’s when I hear Emma say to Emi, “Put your knee in her hiney.”  This again for most of you sounds strange, but this is what we tell Emma to do when she’s helping Ellie up on the couch.  After two kids and you’re finally relaxing on the couch, you find other ways to pick your children up rather than having to actually get up. 

I walk in to the livingroom in time to see the big sisters taking care of their little sisters and getting everyone ready for the movie.  And they did stay quiet until someone had the idea of playing “Mama.”  This is where I explain to Emi that Ady’s screaming means she doesn’t want to play “Mama” and be the baby.  However, Ellie is loving the attention including the sippy feeding.  Ellie just had different ideas when it came time for Emma “Mama” to burp her “baby.”  So she tackled Emma.  Then it was nap time and again Ellie was like, “Where do you want me to lay?  Do you have Teddy and binkie ready?”  I think if Emma would have had food for her, Ellie would have started calling Emma “Mama” and me “Steph.”

date night. . .

Our friend Doug was dancing behind the camera and I don\'t if the dancing was so funny or the people watching him from inside the bar. . .

About once a year, Dustin and I have a date night.  I think we just started doing that this year really.  We took the motorcycle and went out with some friends and just had a good time (read post below to see how good of a time).  Here are some pictures of us on the motorcycle.  I just wanted to pass one car with kids in it and do the “rock on” hand gesture.  You’ll see why when you look at the pictures. . .and my mask is glow in the dark.  I’m so getting into this whole motorcycle thing and I am a firm believer in leather chaps when it is 10:30 at night!  Red River 2008!!

this is what I see driving down the road

I’m sure Dust enjoyed the 12,000 flashes from the camera.

Seriously, check out my motorcycle boots.  Yes, they’re zebra print.  Just because I have to be a bad ass, doesn’t mean I can’t be fashionable.  I’m so going to stick out like a sore thumb in Red River.

I’m smiling in this picture. . .he he he, I’m so scary.  Okay, I’m so going to embarrass my biker husband.

 

I’m not in denial. . .I understand. . .today, Mom probably likes Jess more than me.  I know she loves us equally, but Jess didn’t go out on a date with her husband and end up in a tattoo shop.  One marriage, two kids and seven years later, I finally got another tattoo.  It’s like Dad always said, I can get away with anything because I’m all about presentation.  I made sure we got back to Mom and Dad’s early, we left our smoke filled clothes down stairs in the patio, we took showers so that the bed wouldn’t smell like smoke. . .it might not be presentation, but maybe thoughtfulness?!?

Mom did come down the stairs and I had that 19-year-old flashback of “Ohhh God, I got a tattoo, she’s going to kill me.”  Then I realized honesty is the best policy, so I asked Mom if she’d rather be mad at me now or in the morning.  You have to realize, the last time Dustin and I went out on a date, he came home with a tattoo.  Dustin said that Mom and Dad are never going to watch the girls for us again!  I’ve been wanting this tattoo forever, or at least for a year (Ellie had to be born first). 

It’s totally Dad’s fault too.  Note to self: When in doubt, blame Dad.  Dad has always said live each day as if it were your last, and in my own way I have taken that theory to tattoos. . .and Starbucks.  I don’t want to complain 20 years from now about what I should have or wanted to do back then.  If I want a tattoo, I’m going to get a tattoo.  I will fear my Mom, but I will get a tattoo.  Plus, she can’t stay mad at me.  She did finally look at it this afternoon and then gave Ellie a high-five for pushing the tattoo really hard and hurting me.  Does anybody remember the hair dryer she held an inch away from my back to dry the tattoo covering make-up on my wedding day???  Ruthless, I tell you.  Okay, so I understand why on my wedding day, my mother had to spend about an hour covering a tattoo that I got on a whim, and wasn’t really too happy about that.  But that hair dryer was really hot on my back.

Going back to Starbucks.  I made fun of those people that spent most of their paychecks on their daily Starbucks Carmel Cappachino Latte with foam and chocolate sprinkles.  Make that a Grande (obviously you can tell I don’t drink coffee nor do I know the names of what they are or their spellings).  But it’s something about those people and how happy they look.  It’s probably the caffeine, but those people are so stinkin’ happy.  And then I joined the Starbucks cult with my no water Chia Tea Latte with whip cream thanks to my mother-in-law.  It’s like a liquid pumpkin pie with cool whip and I make this goofy face once a week when I get one.  Those people may be spending hundreds of dollars a month on coffee their going to pee out when they get to the office, but for those 15 minutes, they are at peace with the world, and I now know their peace. 

So as I finish typing this, Mom now loves Jess and I equally and possibly likes us the same.  Dad has probably made a joke about how it could be worse and I could have gotten the tattoo of a snake starting at my ankle, wrapping around my body and finishing taking a bite out of my boob.  See, when in doubt, always think it could always be worse. . .and blame Dad.

parenting 101. . .

I subscribe to the Baby Zone newsletter.  Why?  I’m not really sure.  I started getting weekly emails when I had Emma because I had no idea what I was doing.  Apparently the more kids you have, the more you think you’re getting the hang of this parenting thing, until one of your kids proves you wrong.  Before, I would read all the articles.  They would have links to on how to travel with your baby, what to do about constipation, foods that toddlers will eat, etc.  These emails would almost scare me when Emma was a baby because it made you question all your decisions.  Do I need to change her diet because I’m feeding her too much dairy?  What is organic broccoli and does Wal-Mart sell it?  I’m not changing her diaper 10 times a day, should I be?  Questions after questions, but not so much now.

One comment that really irritates me is the, “Ohh, once you have your second child, you won’t be so protective.  You won’t sterilize binkies if they fall on the ground.  You won’t carry sanitizer with you.”  Pretty much, the first one you treat as if she were a breakable doll and the second one (and so forth) you treat like a small child treats her own baby doll. . .ever seen those dolls missing an eye and being dragged around by an arm or its hair?  Maybe it’s the fact that my parents have ALWAYS treated my sister and me the SAME since we were born.  They have always loved us equally, but occasionally liked one or the other more because of a particular event (most that occured in high school).

Back to the newsletter emails.  I think the deciding factor in not being so scared or being somewhat of a hypocondriac is: A)  She’ll grow out of her not wanting to eat meat stage or any other food pickiness.  B)  Diarrhea or pooping three or four times a day is not worth calling the doctor (three or four days of this, yes, I would call and it’s probably ROTO).  C)  If they should be sleeping in the middle of the night and they are screaming bloody murder, IT IS ALWAYS AN EAR ACHE.  Okay, that one is directed towards me because I never think of ear aches. And D)  If you love your baby, toddler, child, pre-teen, teenager, young adult know-it-all, apologetic 20-something who is know a parent and understands why you did the things you did, every thing will be okay.

Why does the world offer so much advice for parents?  My parents and their parents didn’t have the Internet to look up what to do if your baby’s poop is a weird color or my favorite what illness does my child have because of the certain type of sound their cough is.  Look at the way my parents and their parents raised their kids.  I remember getting punished in public (the secretive squeeze the neck or pinching the holy crap out of the back of my arm).  No sparing the rod and spoiling the child around here and I’d like to think that I turned out pretty good.  I think I’m going to write a book on parenting.  It won’t have a glossary or an index and the acknowledgments will probably be longer than the actual book.  In fact, to all my loyal readers, I’ll send you an e-copy of it to download, so that you can be all the parent you can be.

How to Raise a Child in the 21st Century

by Stephanie Tow

Chapter 1

Despite popular belief, it is okay to spank you child.

The End