It's 2 AM...

This is why Mother's of Mayhem DO NOT NAP!

We need the constant chaos all day long to wear us out enough to sleep through the night... even if we are running a fever and swallowing sand paper all day long.

My husband forced me to rest today because I am feeling terrible and am either on my way to getting very sick or just got a touch of something icky today.

He is so sweet... and asleep right now. Me, not so much.

I've been waiting for you little one...

Today was the best day...

I got to see the most amazing thing...

My best friend of 15 years is expecting a baby girl, and I have been waiting to be an Auntie to her kiddies for what seems like FOREVER! (no offense Tony -love ya!) She has been there every step of the way for Genavieve and Ryker, and I have been looking forward to the day when I could do the same.

Well today I got to meet the sweet little baby... well, not officially, but I did see some amazing sonogram pics of her and I am almost certain she waived at me. It was so amazing though, to see life moving around in her tummy. I was so elated to share that moment with her.

Ryker was just as excited and couldn't wait until it was his turn to get some jelly on his belly...

He saw a dinosaur in his tummy!!

Clairol Take Me Away

Last night I had my nose to the mirror... as I do every night... examining every bump and blemish and freckle of my face. I get a sick twisted pleasure of seeing my face magnified times 20. I love seeing all the flaws I have managed to disguise with makeup all day long!!

That was until my super-duper magnification revealed something at my hair line. Sitting quietly among the red and brown strands was a clever little gray hair. I've been lucky at my ripe old age of not-yet-thirty to avoid all shades of gray on my crown. But I have a feeling that the sneaky little devil I found last night will be the first of many.

Not that he stuck around for very long - with tweezers in hand I plucked any evidence that I am inching my way closer to my thirties. And then I promptly went and bought a box of Clairol... just in case his friends decide to come to his defense.

At least his appetite is back...

The last few days have been quite a challenge...

I've gone from worried sick about my baby boy's health, to utterly exhausted from sleep deprivation, to trying to find the strength to deal with one mean drugged-up little boy...

But at least today his appetite (and his tenacity) is back...

"Ryker, what are you doing?"

"What Mommy? I thirsty"

Ninja Balloons

I was attacked last night.

Don't worry, I will be ok. My attacker and the weapon, not so much.

Monday evening Ryker sounded like he was getting a cold and by Tuesday afternoon he sounded like an 80 year old man running a marathon. I got him to the doc's quickly who took one listen to his chest and started a nebulizer treatment, a dose of steroids and antibiotics and ordered a chest X-ray for the following morning. Pneumonia... randomly and rapidly.

Tuesday night was a rough one - Ken and I took shifts, but it was impossible to sleep watching your baby's ribs suck in with every breath. He was restless and thrashing and never slept for more than 30 minutes at a time. Wednesday morning we were back at the doc's for the X-ray and another round of meds.

By Wednesday night, the hubs and I were walking zombies. Ryker only napped for brief intervals and life still goes on when you have other kids. The girls didn't take too kindly to the idea of Popsicles for dinner (thats all Ryker would eat) so I still had to feed them and get them to cheer practice. It was exhausting!

So it was almost midnight last night... Ryker was wide awake and running around like a Tasmania devil. His nebulizer meds made him jittery and unable to rest... and as I would soon find out, the steroids made him raging mad.

I was standing in front of the fridge, absent-mindedly pouring another cup of juice to add to the collection Ryker already had dispersed about the house. Ryker innocently walked up to me with the "Get Well" balloons his Nana had left him... and then the 'roid rage overcame him.

Bam.... bam... pow.... pow... gotchu.... pow... bam.... die.... pow.... bam....

In a wild fit like I had never seen, Ryker pummeled me with his balloons like they were deadly ninjas. I tried to recover from the sudden shock of Mylar beating against me to escape his wrath. When I finally freed myself and told him to stop... he did... took a deep breath and said, "I go get my gun."

Lord help me... and thank you for giving me the foresight not to fill his water gun when he asked me to yesterday!

Leave it to my vanity

So what would make Mother of Mayhem come out of her six month hiatus?

Her vanity of course...

Have you heard the news? I am a ROCK STAR again!! And this time I even got my kiddies mentioned in the article. The local paper, The Culpeper Times did a story on Green Nest. And obviously I didn't mind posing for EVERY shot! And this time I was even smiling! Check out the article here...

So whats been going on in the last six months you wonder? Well its been non stop as usual! There have been so many times in the last couple of months where things have happened and I thought to myself "I should blog about that".. and yet I never get around to it. So today I begin again... I've got a lot to talk about, so prepare for frequent blogs. I've had some great moments since last March!

My little Man turned two for starters... and the last six months of the terrible two's have been quite interesting. We have been potty training, drinking out of big boy cups, going to preschool and throwing temper tantrums that rival world wars! It has been a lot of fun to see my baby growing up and becoming his own (stubborn as hell) person!

It pulls on the heartstrings though - I no longer have a baby, but a big boy. Those thoughts of having one more have started to creep into my mind.. that is of course until they are interrupted by the terodactyl screams of my little monster.

My sister and I went and got tattoos this summer. We thought it would be a great idea to get matching tattoos to honor my father who passed away in 2004. The hubs came up with a fantastic design that incorporated the Chinese symbol for father and my dad's initials... and we headed out one night to get them.

No one bothered to tell us how excruciatingly painful a tattoo on your foot might be. I barely made it through, and my sister had to stop mid-ink to hurl in the trashcan. But we did it and have Twinkie-Twin tattoos to show for it. Pops would be proud... but I think we will have to do rub-on's for Mom when she goes - I ain't going through that again - sorry MOM!

Ken and I celebrated our 3rd Anniversary with a quick trip to Williamsburg. It was so nice to get away for a few days and just enjoy ourselves, sans kids. The day we were leaving their was a beautiful horse across the road that I became great friends with- I ended up getting a lot of lip action that weekend!!

My best bud and I got away to Ocean City for a short weekend trip. We had a blast and acted like teenagers for two days... and in the grand spirit of stupid things teenagers do, I got my nosed pierced. It last for about a month and then I got sick of trying to pick a metal booger out of my nose!

The kids have all grown up so much in the last couple of months - I hardly recognize the little girls I use to know. This year they started 6th, 4th, and 3rd grade... and looked like little fashion divas on the first day of school!

And of course we can't leave Ryker out. He started preschool two days a week in September as my work schedule changed. He has not taken to it too well and has trouble with the separation. Yesterday morning when he found out he was going to school he lost it in a fit of tears. As I was trying to calm him down, he looked at me and pointed to his cheek where a fresh tear was streaming down, "See my tears Mommy, see my tears" Enough to break a Mommy's heart... but he still had to go to school and he was fine once he got over the initial goodbye.

So that's a quick run down - my new goal is to blog at least once a week. It makes me happy and I've heard it makes a few others smile too!

A ROCK STARcan only do so much though...

Cookie Jar

A whole new meaning to "caught with your hand in the cookie jar... "

Yesterday was such a lovely day, I decided to treat myself to a nice Frapp.... one of Rykers favorite treats as well.

While I was in the office.... facebooking or blogging or doing some other wonderful "Mom-of-the-Year-ignore-your-child" thing... Ryker climbed up in his seat and got a hold of my tasty treat. And when the straw would no longer produce the yummy caramel confection... he decided to take matters into his own hands... er thumb... and got stuck.

I think I laughed at him for at least five minutes and snapped several shots before I actually helped him... yet another point earned towards that whole "Mom-of-the-Year" thing!

"Mama..... I TUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK"

They Don't Have Steak?

Last night after work I came home very restless. I did not feel like sitting still and my freshly cleaned, still sopping wet carpets were not very condusive to staying in.

I felt it in my bones that I needed something at Kirklands... one of my favorite home decor stores. Probably because my home is still a completely blank canvas with absolutely no decor. I had no clue what it was I was after, but I knew if I went there, I was bound to find something to put up on my stark naked walls.

And if Kirklands didn't suffice, there was always a variety of shopping in Central Park that would fill my void and itch to go SOMEWHERE and get SOMETHING!

My husband is use to my non-stop personality. I rarely sit still long enough to let the dust bunnies settle. I was hoping that I could convince him to join me on my little adventure... but was not confident because shopping is not on his TOP TEN list.

Me - "Wanna run out with me?"

Hubs - "Where are you going?"

Me - "Kirklands and Ross."

Hubs - "Yeah sure, I need to get socks before we go.." (back to the wet, but finally clean, carpets... he ventured out on them too soon)

Me - "Ok, what do you want to get for dinner?

Hubs - "I thought we were going to Kirklands and Ross, what do they serve?"

Me - chuckling "Heaping helpings of candlesticks and wall sconces..."

Hubs - "Oh, I thought that was a restaurant. Damn. Sounded like a steakhouse."

Me - still laughing "I'll get you steak if you come shop with me."

The poor guy ended up coming out with me anyways... on a fruitless trip that did not yield a single wall sconce or decorative hanging.

To make up for things, we went to Hooters and he got his fill of wings and boobs.

Husbands say the darnedest things!

I'm a Rockstar!!

Look -

It's official...

I AM A ROCKSTAR.

I made the paper.

http://www.starexponent.com/cse/news/local/article/its_easy_bein_green/31338/

I promise I will not let my 15 seconds of fame go to my head...

However, Courtney Fan Club shirts go on sale immediately!

And really... its about the store. Visit Green Nest!

Ready, Set, NOOOOOOOOO!

It has become obvious that my little boy is growing up. Much faster than I want, might I add. It seems like only yesterday he was kicking me in my belly or we were welcoming him into the world, or marveling at all the little cooes and movements he made.

These days, I can hardly keep up with all his movements. He is all over the place and so full of himself. He talks constantly and has an unreal vocabulary. He is stubborn and head strong, demanding to feed himself, dress himself, wash himself. At every turn it is "No! I do it. No! I got it!"

He is quickly turning into my BIG BOY. But I don't want him to. I want him to stay my baby forever. I have been avoiding the inevitable. He is growing up. And I have to let him and FACE IT.

I thought I was doing well. I have entrusted my precious baby boy to someone else's care one day a week and let him go to the daycare at the gym. I even shrug off his little tears when I leave, because no doubt in 30 seconds he is off and running and not missing me a bit.

And then it happened today. Hidden amongst all the junk mail and overdue bills was the tall tale sign of Ryker becoming a big boy.

Coupons for Pull-Ups arrived in the mail today. Huggies is trying to tell me something. Time to start potty training and truly turning my baby boy into a BIG KID. A wave of terror has come over me with the thought of having to potty train this stubborn little boy. Visions of pee-streaked walls and hellacious naked tantrums come flood my mind.

I asked Ryker today when he got up from his nap if he wanted to use a big boy potty. His response was classic... and typical Ryker. "No potty."

This is what my next year will be. I wonder if I should start counting how many times he says NO POTTY now?

Ready, set... here he grows!

My Dryer is a Liar

My household appliances are smarter than me. Or so they think.

One of my favorite things in the world is fresh clean sheets and a freshly made bed. Yes, I appreciate the little things in life. But when they don't go my way, there is hell to pay.

So the other day I stripped the bed and washed all the sheets. After I threw them in the dryer, I went downstairs and proceeded about other household chores. About thirty minutes later, I heard the dryer beep indicating that the cycle was done. I thought in my head, "liar". I made a mental note to run back upstairs and run it again.

My dryer and I have this battle everytime I wash a large load. It thinks that it is smarter than I am, and even though I set the cycle on SUPER SIMPSON SIX HEAVY DUTY... the auto-sensor always determines that things are done long before they actually reach dry. And then it beeps.. and tells me that all is well, when I know its lying. There are damp cloths to be dealt with.

And as usual, my mental notebook is very sloppy and filled with little annoying reminders, and I ofcourse forgot to go run the dryer again.

When it was time to go to bed I realized my oversight. And sure enough, at 11pm my dryer was filled with a damp wad of king size sheets. And ofcourse I have no backups... that would be too simple. I threw a quiet little hissy fit (only because they kids were asleep or else it would have been a full blown temper tantrum). I hit the button again, and went and layed on the bare mattress and chatted with my husband about how smart our appliances are. Our icemaker tells you what type of ice you want... even if I am craving a cup of crushed... it spits out full unchewable cubes. Our garage door dances open and closed when its too cold outside, and never will stay down when you are running late. And then there is the dryer... its a damn liar.

And then today I discovered it is also a thief. Where the hell did those socks go?

Fountain of Youth

For my birthday this year, my wonderful husband brought home a beautiful bouquet of star-gazer lilies and roses and gave me a membership to Powell's Wellness Center. Now in any other situation, I would have been highly insulted that he gave me a gym membership - but I have been asking for it for some time. Just check out the post from last year - http://motherofmayhemva.blogspot.com/2008/10/all-i-want-for-christmas.html

So I was all anxious to get started and reclaim a couple of notches on my belt - then the house got sick last week. Everyone had the ick - and every attempt I made to head out to the gym was greeted with either puke or poop.

Yesterday, I finally made it. I attended the 9am group class... and although it certainly is not Jazzercise, it was definitely a good workout. I was horrified though when I walked into the group class room and it had mirrors on every wall.

One of my favorite things about Jazzercise was the lack of mirrors. So I could dance and pretend I had rhythm and moves and not have to actually see how ridiculous I looked. There was no escaping my reflection yesterday. But the girl in the mirror, that stumbled and stuttered over unfamiliar steps actually helped me a bit. I saw how many rolls and bumps I had jiggling all over the place. I definitely need to keep up the exercise and get rid of all that extra Pillsbury!

I was surprised at all the older women that were in the class... and I don't mean old as in mid-life... I mean old as, should you be kicking that high granny? I chuckled at the beginning of class and thought I actually stood a chance at keeping up with the geriatric crew. Hmm... they showed me. They knew all the moves - they jumped around like they were 17. They knocked me on my ass, that's for sure. I wonder exactly what is the water at the Powell's pool? Cuz these old people can MOVE!

Me on the other hand - day 2 of class - my abs and legs are burning, I'm sweating like a stuck pig and my face is so red, the grannies are thinking of calling the rescue squad.

But I'll be back tomorrow. Mark my word - grandma can't keep me down!

Hard Lessons

Many of you know me well enough to know that I like to keep a clean house. I can't stand clutter or unvacuumed floors. I hate seeing dirty laundry in the hampers and wash clothes as fast as my kids can wear them. I have a sickness. And I am available for rent if any of you need a room or two tidied.

Well Genavieve and Skylar have been testing me for the last couple of weeks in the clean department. I can't stand walking by their room because it is in a constant state of clutter. I ask nicely, I scream, I try to come up with creative ways to make room cleaning fun. And it never works.

A few weeks ago I decided that I would stop stressing about clean rooms for a while. I told the girls they could do whatever they wanted in their rooms all week long, and then Thursday evening I would do a "room check"... yeah kinda military style, but I was desperate.

The girls had strict instructions that their doors had to stay closed so that I couldn't see what was being tossed willy-nilly on their floors throughout the week. And come Thursday, it all better be cleaned MOM STYLE. (and if you live in this house, you are very well versed on what MOM STYLE is... the words perfection and squeaky come to mind)

Well for two weeks, this method seemed to work. I gritted my teeth every time I caught a glimpse into their room, but Thursday nights it was pretty decent.

But then Gena and Skylar started slipping. They couldn't meet their deadline, they couldn't walk in the room due to the mess... they were taking advantage of my very generous system. So they lost privileges. Daily room cleaning became part of their everyday once again. Yeah I know... I'm a mean mom.

Well yesterday, as I was going about my routine, collecting laundry and dusting and what not... I stumbled across an area that I thought to be my daughters' room. Dirty and clean clothes alike were scattered about the floor. Every toy imaginable was pulled out, as if they were having some sort of indoor yard sale. The Barbie and Bratz toy box seemed to have exploded is some twisted naked doll orgy.

I was livid. My psycho mom button switched, and I literally had to step out of the room and cool myself off.

Now for those of you that are thinking I am blowing things out of proportion... stop and think. When you were growing up, did you get to make the rules of your household? Nope, me either. I just had to abide by them. And my children are spoiled rotten.. they don't want for anything... and hence they have no respect for their belongings or their space. I don't have many rules... but a clean room is something I insist upon. So stop judging.

So after my head stopped spinning, I grabbed paper and pencil and wrote a brief note that I taped to their door, and locked it. It read:

Dear Skylar and Gena -
You no longer have a room.
Your father and I will discuss what will happen
to your room and your belongings when
he gets home.
-Mom

When the girls got home, Skylar turned on the waterworks and Gena pretended she didn't care. Where will we sleep? How will we get clothes? I ignored their questions and let them sweat it out until 7pm.

So when Ken arrived home the girls told him what happened. He proceeded with one of his famous lectures and ventured up to their room to see the damage.

What happened next, even I could not have imagined.

Ken got up to their room and surveyed the mess. And then he began opening drawers... one by one he emptied each drawer all over the floor. He then dumped the toy box and moved on to the entertainment center where the girls have a collection of DVD's and videos that rivals Blockbuster. He began tossing those too. At one point, Ryker got clocked with a flying DVD. He thought the piles of stuff all over the floor were hilarious. Gena and Skylar, not so much.

I stood in the door way with my mouth wide open. Was he trying to give me a seizure? I felt the OCD neuron in my brain begin to twitch... The girls were bawling.

After he finished his rampage (all done very calmly might I add) he told the girls that they had a choice. They could either clean up their room in the hour left until bedtime and KEEP IT CLEAN or they could go get some trash bags and take care of it that way.

Needless to say they cleaned... crying all the while.

Ken and I exited to our room and I busted out laughing.

"What was that?" I asked.

"I came up with that on the fly." He responded.

Obviously he was proud of the point he had proven, although I was still a little unsure. But his scare tactics worked... those girls cleaned for an hour straight and the room was squeaky perfect clean at the end of it.

Skylar was upset. Gena was mad. If you know my girl, you know she doesn't cry for anything. But she cried the entire time... not because she was upset or sad... but because she was PISSED. I went in their halfway through and tried to calm the situation down a bit. I explained that some lessons you need to learn in life are hard lessons to learn. This was one of those times... the girls needed to learn to obey the rules, respect their belongings, and take care of their space.

Remind me never to fuss about the girls not taking out the trash.... lord knows where that would end up if Ken is trying to teach another "hard lesson"!!

Mayhem Takes New York

So how does the old song go about New York?

"If I can make it here, I can make it anywhere...."

Well I made it to New York... despite braving the metro, two cancelled flights, my first cab ride and various other modes of transportation. I made it. And now I feel like I can take on the world.

Anyone that has talked to me in the last two weeks knows how incredibly nervous I was about my business trip to New York. Number one because I have never really traveled alone. And number two because I am a complete control freak and I don't like doing things I am unsure of.

I was so nervous in fact, I had the Mt. Everest of cold sores erupt on my lip just days before my trip. I say they are stress-related, not cootie-related.

Sunday night I drove up to my girlfriends in Springfield so that I could catch the metro to the airport. Note - metro and I aren't the closest of pals... ever since I got the brilliant idea to take five kids to D.C. on the metro last summer... I have steered clear!

I made my friend ride with me to the airport and I made it through security and to my departure gate uneventfully. And promptly at 8:15 they start boarding the flight.

I'm seated next to a young businessman and as the plane is taxied out to the runway, I debate whether or not to ask him to hold my hand. I decide against it and we begin to take off. Halfway down the run way, going full speed, the pilot hits the brakes and everyone in the tiny plane lunges forward. "Excuse me sir, will you hold my hand?"

We are taken back to the terminal and the pilot announces that we will be exiting the plane due to engine problems. The stewardess chuckles and states "We at Delta do not make water landings... hahahaha." Shut up chick. Not laughing.

Safely back in the airport, our flights are rerouted to another airport in New York that leaves in 50 minutes. And then a few minutes before boarding, that flight is cancelled. Is this a sign?

Finally, at 10:45 I am sitting much more comfortably on a larger plane bound for JFK Airport. The flight heads off without any problems and before I can't blink and eye, we are in New York. I could have made better time by driving.

So then the next adventure, a cab ride. Luckily I didn't have to hail a cab or anything, because there is a nice, convenient little line at the airport. I get in, give the cabbie my destination and hold on for dear life. Good lord... I think I was safer in the water-bound Delta flight.

I make it the Javits Center for the New York International Gift Fair and meet up with my boss and the manager. The place is huge and the show was amazing. We had so much fun shopping for Pepperberries and the new store, Green Nest.

After the show, we make it back to our hotel, which by the way is in the center of times square!

Here is the view from our window....

The whole trip was amazing and exciting and totally out of my little comfort zone, but I loved it. My boss took us to great places to eat and we all had so much fun.

Because of the weather in New York on Wednesday, I ended up taking the train back home, which was another adventure. Did I ever tell you about my fear of escalators?!?!

Face It

I'm addicted.

Facebook.

I AM addicted.

Curse whoever told me about it... Tracy, Wendy.. whoever it was. Curse you.

I never knew hours in a day could pass so fast.

I never knew there were so many people from high school that I never talked to that I now desperately feel I need on my friends list.

I never knew chatting instant message style could fill such a void in my social regimen.

And chatting with people that I could just as easily pick up the phone and call. Not as fun though.

My addictive obsessive personality fails me daily as I swear by and by that I will not log onto Facebook for the 20th time.

Let's face it....I'm addicted.

Excuse me, I need to check my wall.

Pics of the Week

Yes, that is my not-quite-two baby boy playing a pink Nintendo DS. We like to teach them young here in the Simpson household. But when you pan out on the picture, it is much sweeter.

The kids sharing some quality time together. I should just be thankful that they will share their pink DS's with him, right? At least it didn't end up in the toilet.

Technical Difficulties

My apologies for my blog appearance - I am experiencing some technical difficulties and my favorite blog background website has vanished?!? Whats a girl to do? Call in the hubs for back up !!

Hello, my name is Courtney...

And I have S.A.D.

Now some people might recognize this acronym as Seasonal Affective Disorder, a condition where you experience depression in the winter months.

That's not me. The winter months are my favorite, but they do also trigger my disorder.

Shopping Addictive Dysmorphia.

Man, I love to shop. And the winter months give me an excuse to shop. For Christmas, for all our winter birthdays. Its like a shopping party all season long. And I don't get sad, I am on a high.

Many of you read the story of my crazy Black Friday shopping day. And although I accomplished most of my shopping in one swoop... I didn't stop. I shopped constantly, all the way up until Christmas Eve. The presents under the tree were ridiculous and everyone in my household definitely got their share of the loot.

And my bank account suffered. Now here is where the dysmorphia comes in. When you suffer from my version of S.A.D, you have an inaccurate view of your bank account. You think that if you have checks and credit cards in your wallet, then you have money. Sometimes this is not always true.

I am in the healing stages. I have held up in my house for three days trying to avert any shopping temptations. That was until my mom came to town last night, and I couldn't stand being stuck in the house anymore.

We took a harmless trip to Target. (I am still in the denial stages) We got lost in the black hole and were late to meet the hubs for dinner. And since our trip got interrupted, we went back to Target after we ate. The cute kiddies in red and khaki looked at my mom and I like we were crazy when we came back through the checkout for a second time.

What I walked away with? Well, the Tylenol that I needed for the baby's teeth. And a cartful of Christmas stuff that was 90% off.... I mean seriously, how can you not buy it?? They might as well pay you to take it away! So I don't know the purpose of most of the stuff I got, but it will be exciting to opening up the Christmas bins next year and find my loot. Maybe it will curtail my shopping a little next year?!?!

Yeah, probably not.