Scarlet Fever. . .

Twenty-two diapers in four days is when I quit counting.  I’m not looking for pitty, I’m not wanting anything. . .I just want to say this sucks.  The 2008 Red River Bike Rally was cancelled for me when we took Ellie to the doctor and found out she had Scarlet Fever.  The tripped we deemed “our 2nd Honeymoon” was over before it even began.  And now that I look back, why would we consider a trip spent with thousands upon thousands of biker people a honeymoon?!? 

Anywho (which is now one of my new favorite words to use besides “seriously”), Dustin and I knew that there was no way we were going to have Nana and Papa, mostly Nana because “Papa doesn’t do diapers” since the Jack poopy diaper of 05′.  As much as I wanted to go wear my polka dotted knee-high socks, zebra print biker boots and my blue and white tye-dyed bandana, I knew I’d be wearing it at home while Dust went and socialized with the biker folk.  Do biker folk socialize or just give each other the “rock on” sign?!?  Another thing I am started to ponder on.

I called the doctor on Friday because Emma wasn’t feeling good and after a whirlwind of washing every thing and I mean every thing, the last thing I wanted was Emma to pass it to Ellie to pass it back to Emma and so forth and so forth.  Dustin was ready to stay with me but I told him there’s no reason all of our money goes down the drain.  It really was killing him that he wouldn’t see me in the my polka dotted knee-high socks, zebra print biker boots and blue and white tye dyed bandana socializing with the biker folk on our 2nd Honeymoon.  I know it doesn’t bring a tear to your eye, but it did to mine and I think to Dust’s when I wasn’t looking.

I’d be a bad Mama for leaving my kids with someone else when they were sick, but I’d be a bad wife to not let Dustin go to the bike rally he has been looking forward to for the last 361 days.  My girls couldn’t help it, but they’ve managed to be part of both of our honeymoons somehow.  Emma was obviously present during our first honeymoon and now Ellie on this.  But what can you do?  It’s not like the 2009 won’t have a bike rally.  It’s not a once in a life time chance.  In the end, it just sucks.  I’m not looking for pitty, I’m not wanting anything, but this just sucks.

On a brighter note, Ellie’s rash is in the last stages of Scarlet Fever.  Their both taking their medicine, our house should be lifting its quarantined sign for the last week and I’m out of laundry detergent.  I’m making a shirt that says Red River Bike Rally 2008 and on the back it might have “Scarlet Fever Be Damned.”  I don’t know, I’m still trying to come up with something catchy.  Okay, my leather chaps and jacket are starting to get a little warm while I’m typing.  Ohh yah, I’m a biker chick.


Mother’s Day. . .

So I went through my pictures, roughly a couple of thousands of pictures that is, to find a picture of my first Mother’s Day.  For some reason, the batteries always fell out of my camera back then and I never reset the date.  Many of the pictures have the date January 4, 2004.  Seeing as how Emma wasn’t even born yet, but many of the pictures showed her rolling over or sitting up and chewing on something, it was hard to find a picture with a correct date.  But alas, the “Papa”razzi has come through (Dad has since deemed me the “Mama”razzi because I too have been bitten by the “take too many pictures” bug).  The pictures were taken sometime around Mother’s Day.  A week early, a week late, as long as Mamas everwhere are celebrated that’s all that matters.  Here are pictures of Mother’s Day 2004 thru 2008. 

Emma at 2 1/2-months-old.  That face is like, “It’s you with that thing that flashes that bright light in my eyes!  Hey you!”  Mother’s Day 2004.

This was at my college graduation the day before Mother’s Day (I think?!?).  Emma stayed awake long enough to see Mama walk across the stage and get her hard-earned diploma.  Mother’s Day 2005.

Emma just turned 2-years-old and I was barely pregnant with Ellie. . .and apparently was unsure of letting my hair grow out or keeping it short.  Mother’s Day 2006.

I’m the only one in this picture that’s not making a weird face.  Dustin obviously hasn’t seen this picture and I’m sure Emma was like, “Ellie’s splashing me!”  Smile for the camera everyone!  Mother’s Day 2007.

Another deer in headlights pose from Emma while Ellie refuses to look at the camera.  You would think these kids would know what to do when there’s a camera around.  Mother’s Day 2008.

The girls made cards for me in Sunday School.  Emma kept referring to hers as a Valentine’s Day card for Mama.  Ellie’s cards have crushed up fruit loops and her hand (that I know the teachers had so much fun trying to keep still) with more fruit loops glued to it.  I wonder how many fruit loops were used in the process of making my “Valentine’s Day Card?”  There’s no telling how many times they had to tell Ellie, “Quit eating the cereal, put it on the glue.  Quit eating the glue!”  The Emma & Ellie tattoo was Dustin’s Anniversary/Mother’s Day gift to me.  I can’t wait for next year’s gift!  I’m sure Mom is rolling her eyes after reading that and saying, “Steph.”  Mother’s Day 2008.

here kitty, kitty. . .

So my friend/next door neighbor called me and said that we had kittens in our backyard.  They were stuck between our joining fence and our shed.  Anyone that knows me knows that I am not a cat person.  The only cats I would have would be hairless, teethless, clawless and that’s just really not nice to do to a cat. 

Anywho, the girls and I ventured next door and Amber and I started hatching a our rescue plan.  This plan involved a box, work gloves, a hammer, a camera because hello, you have to take pictures of this to document that I actually helped out a cat and the possibility of upset husbands because I had to take off fence pickets to get the kittens out.  Imagine if you will a 4-year-old, 3-year-old and two 1-year-olds squealing with anticipation to see these kittens.  It was a joint decision that I get the kittens out because Amber’s pregnant and if they bit her, they could have rabies and that wouldn’t be good for the baby and now that I think of it, rabies probably wouldn’t be too good for me either. . .

Okay, I get work gloves on because the white kitten deemed “Satan” kept hissing at me.  I pulled a picket off and grabbed the gray kitten and into the box he goes.  Amber has grown up with cats forever, so she checks them for whatever things animals carry (you obviously can tell I don’t know my animal terminology).  Satan is still hissing and we notice there’s another kitten.  I pull off a completely different fence picket and in between the hissing and my jumping, I grab the black kitten deemed “Midnight.”  Into the box he goes.

Last but not least is Satan.  Satan is not happy that I have taken his siblings and wants nothing more than to chew my fingers off.  Every time I get close, he hisses at me, I jump and then have to start over.  Little did I know that there was a giant toy basketball blowing around in the backyard and heading my way.  I was too busy to notice it, but not Amber.  She kept thinking, “Ohh, a little to the left. . .” hoping that the ball would hit my leg while I was in crouching/running like a scared little girl in case this small kitten came after me position.  Needless to say that damn ball hit my leg and I screamed like a little girl.  Finally 15 minutes later, all three kittens were in the plastic box being eeewwwwed and aaaahhhhed over from four very excited little girls.

Satan accessing the situation.

Ellie still not quite sure what’s going on, but “Go Diego Go Animail Rescurer” is explaining what type of food these kitties need in order to survive.

Ady had more fun playing with my “Animal Rescue” gloves than the kittens.

“MOW, MOW, MOW, etc.”  And like our last name, this is to be pronounced like COW.  Ellie just kept saying “mow” over and over all day and into the next day.  This is an improvement because before two weeks ago, every thing was “puppy.”

Emma and Satan.  Gee, that’s something I really want to show everyone at our Baptist Church, “Here’s a picture of my little girl with Satan.”  On a side note, isn’t she getting so big?

Amber brought over Midnight because that’s the one Emma loved.  We had gone back over to Emi and Ady’s house after dinner that night to play with the kittens.  Emma fell in love with Midnight and held her the whole time.  Here’s a picture of Ellie the Brave petting Midnight.  If you’ve ever seen the Bug’s Bunny cartoon with the giant who says, “I will love him and pet him and call him George,” well, that’s kind of how Ellie was with Midnight.

Cute picture of Emi with Midnight.

“Ohh God when will this end.  Lord take me know.  When will that &#@* Animal Control get here.”

Ellie is saying, “It’s so soft. . .and I will love him and pet him and call him George. . .”

This one is too sweet.  This is “I’m doing it Mama!  I’m actually touching an animal!”  I was really proud of this picture.


picnic time. . .

This was a couple weeks ago, but the girls finally got to have their first picnic outside.  Dustin put together their sandbox while the girls had chicken pot pie and juice boxes (before we realized Ellie was allergic to the juice boxes).  Maybe not the most picnic-friendly food, but it was a spur of the moment thing. 

As I look outside with the 50-something degree weather in mid May, I’m so ready for the summer weather.  I can deal with the wind, but the back and forth of hot and cold is killing my and Ellie’s skin.  It is so dry and I’m ready for shorts.  I don’t know how many more days I can put pants and short-sleeve shirts on the girls or capri pants with long-sleeve shirts.  I hate unpredictable weather.


In our pantry is where all the fruit snacks, pudding, goldfish, other various flavors of crackers, maybe some cookies, chips, mini boxes of cereal, individual packages of peaches and pears. . .pretty much anything you can think of, it’s in their.  And apparently either Ellie can now open the pantry door or another culprit that is very likely related to her didn’t close the door all the way when she was in the pantry.  All I can say, it’s a good thing “Sally” my beverage cooler has a lock on it.  Emma usually hides in the pantry to eat something she knows Ellie will tackle her for.  As far as I know, Ellie can’t open anything up yet.  But then again I didn’t think she could get up on the couch as early as she did and I looked into the living room and there was Ellie holding the remote and relaxing up against the arm rest.


my zoo animals. . .

Last Friday, I took the girls to the zoo to meet a friend.  I probably took a picture a minute because it took 20 minutes to go through the zoo and I think there was roughly 20 pictures total.  Emma’s pictures were, “CHEESE!  I’m having the best time ever!”  And Ellie’s pictures were more, “Che. . .ohhh God that bird is getting close to me!  Chee. . .I think that buffalo wants to eat me!  Cheese. . .please let this end soon!”  Needless to say, dog is man’s best friend does not relate to Ellie.  No animal is Ellie’s best friend. 

Dustin went fishing with his uncle over the weekend, so the girls and I made a day out of it.  We went to our favorite Schlotzsky’s for lunch and the girls enjoyed my sandwich more than I was allowed to.  Ellie kept saying, “Pees, pees,” after each bite of turkey meat, and Emma dug through my sandwich to find the tomatoes and olives that she was sure I wasn’t going to eat.  My smoked turkey-LESS on sour dough with extra olives (that both girls ate) and mustard sandwich was delicious?!?

We went shopping at the mall so the girls could play at the playground.  As long as it’s not too crowded, I don’t mind letting the girls run around like chickens with their heads cut off.  HOWEVER, it never fails that there is always some kid that thinks they need to “help” Ellie down the slide by pulling her leg while their at the bottom of the slide.  It never fails I have to tell the 7-year-old that clearly should not be in the playground to let go of my daughter’s leg all while his mom is sitting there watching and not doing anything.  That’s right lady that’s probably not reading this email, I’m talkin’ to you.  Watch your kid and keep his hands of my kids.   We got dresses for Ellie’s dedication this weekend.  And apparently Ellie’s poopy diaper in the dressing room was so smelly, other moms kept checking their babies.  Yah, it smelled bad and confining the smell was not the best thing to happen.

Next was Emma and I yelling, “Don’t fall asleep Ellie!  Don’t fall asleep!”  We were running to Hastings to rent movies for the weekend and didn’t need Ellie finally crashing only to wake up five minutes later.  She made it to Hastings, but then was out by the time I made it to King & I to pick up our dinner for that night.  I do love when Dustin goes out of town and I’m in town because I can eat King & I for dinner.  Ellie loves rice and Emma loves the sweet and sour sauce.  And I love it all!

We made it home, ate dinner and then walked up to the post office to walk off the three eggrolls I ate.  Mmmm. . .eggrolls.  That was such a great day.  The girls did great.  We took our time and didn’t have to rush to get home by naptime and I still had the girls in bed by 9:00 p.m. so I could clean the house.  I never thought a great day would consist of the zoo, yelling at kids to quit touch mine and cleaning.  Priorities change when you turn 26 apparently. . .or have kids.

Ohh and did I mention our girls weekend was during my and Dust’s anniversary.  Let’s see, Dustin went hunting for the weekend on my birthday and now fishing for the weekend for our anniversary.  I’m such a good wife!  Or the fact that he didn’t spend all the money he took and told me I could order the Nike shoes I’ve been wanting kind of made it worth it. . .no, I’m just a great wife. . .married to a great husband!


the snuggli/choker. . .

This is what inspired me to buy a bike trailer/stroller.  The should not call it a “Snuggli.”  To snuggle is to cuddle or press closely as for comfort.  Apparently when they designed this “must have purchase” for moms, a mom was not used for the back pack portion of the Snuggli.  As a mom with a little bit of weight to lose and that non-flattering belly, why on earth would I want 72 straps wrapped around me “tightly” so that my excess skin pokes through between each strap.  Can you say sexy?  Imagine if you can carrying the 24 lb child in the Snuggli back pack and the 31 lb child in the front because her feet hurt.  The heavy breathing is not helping my wow factor for this product.

Note the fact that I was choking with Ellie in the Snuggli back pack all while holding Emma because “I am too tired. . .I cannot walk anymore.”  It’s not the working out for a mom that’s hard, it’s the getting your children to quit being your resistance training that is not fun.  I know I looked like an idiot with Ellie on my back and carrying Emma on the front.  And if Emma touches Ellie, Ellie screams and pushes Emma.  Emma pushes back and screams because Ellie has got ahold of Emma’s hair.  It’s a three-ring circus down the street from the Casa de Tow, come one, come all.  Not to mention, the back pack looked like this on Ellie and it pulled her pant legs up and was not fashionable at all. . .