Mother of Mayhem

Blessings from Tears...

2011-08-15T17:07:00.002-04:00

I entered a contest with Real Simple magazine about an "unexpected friendship".... here is what I wrote.

When I first met Amy, I was immediately drawn to her warm personality. I admired her from afar for a long time, never really having an opportunity to connect. I felt like a silly school girl, longing to be the popular girl’s “BFF” but not knowing a way in. Last year on a chance meeting, she shared exciting news that she was expecting after trying to conceive for ten years. I was also dealing with infertility and we quickly realized how much we had in common. A friendship began to build.

Shortly after, I learned she had lost the baby. I remember wishing that we were closer so that I could reach out to her. I didn’t know how I would be received as just an acquaintance. When I saw Amy a few weeks later, she embraced me like we had known each other our entire lives. Our friendship continued to grow.

This year I found myself in a similar situation. I finally got pregnant but then lost the baby a few weeks later. I called Amy immediately. I knew she would have a warm hug, thoughtful experience and comforting words for me. Sharing this tragic bond brought our friendship to a new level.

I can’t even begin to count the number of times Amy has saved me. It was her words alone that brought me out of the darkness. She patiently listened and comforted me for hours. She never expected anything of me... in fact she THANKED ME! She said that I was the reason she was finally able to heal.

Our friendship is a true example of how something beautiful can rise out of your darkest moments. I never imagined that this woman, whom I longed to be friends with a few months ago, would become my everything today.

Worst part of the job...

2011-08-06T09:48:00.003-04:00

I have had some pretty crappy jobs in my life. I started off working for my mom in her gift shop, which I completely loathed. Not that I ever had to do any real work or wasn't paid well, but having to spend EXTRA time with my parents when I was a teenager was utter torture.

My mom was less than excited when I "resigned" to work at a local pet store. Less pay. More work. Teens aren't always so smart, ya know. I spent my summer scrubbing fish tanks and cleaning puppy poo from plastic crates. It was very glamorous.

The next year I decided to move on to kids... because Hey, at least I wouldn't be cleaning up poop. Wrong again. I worked at an after-school day care and you wouldn't believe the number of "accidents" these little elementary school children had! At least the puppies never talked back.

I also worked in a factory that made generic medicines... for three whole days. Believe it or not, I am not cut out for manual labor or the night shift. Go figure.

Then there was insurance.... that held me captive for over six years. It wasn't a horrible job, didn't involve feces, screaming kids, or manual labor... but it was insurance. Not very exciting, not my passion.

But for the last four years, I have had my dream job.

About halfway through my pregnancy with Ryker, the hubs and I made a plan for me to be able to stay home. He got a great new job that offered a larger salary and amazing health benefits and we could not justify my working full time and paying daycare for FOUR kids. It didn't make sense. So at 7 1/2 months pregnant, I quit my job. So long insurance... it's been real.

I spent the next couple of weeks getting use to the idea of being a stay at home mom. I got up with the girls and got them off to school (and promptly went back to sleep), ran errands all day long (and napped in the afternoon), got the house cleaned to the highest OCD degree (then took a little rest), and had dinner on the table when the hubs got home (then went to bed at 8pm).

When Ryker arrived... sleeping was a distant memory. But I loved... no ADORED... every moment of it. I nursed him for the first year with no supplements (the child would NEVER take a bottle) and was never away from him for more than three hours. Again, I adored it. I got to see all the firsts, spend my days playing silly games with him, watching him take his 30 minute power naps... it was glorious. I also had the joy of being there for the girls when they got home from school instead of sending them to some sitter (who I typically never got along with).

It has been amazing, even though it does involve feces, screaming kids, manual labor and so much more.

In the last couple of years, I have treasured every moment of being able to be home with my kids. The special bond Ryker and I share is unbelievable... we are still attached at the hip even though he is now four. I love being able to sit down with the girls and do homework with them or be able to attend their special events at school.

Motherhood is by far my favorite job I have ever had.... hands down.

But sometimes it is not so easy...

Sometimes even I have to be the bad guy, which is very difficult because I am usually a total pushover, especially when it comes to Ryker.

Yesterday at dinner, Ryker was given a piece of brocoli and a carrot to eat. We are taking baby steps here because they child has NEVER liked vegetables, all the way back to the strained variety. But we are trying to broaden his food spectrum and make him try new things. This typically doesn't end well. We have finally moved passed the point of him instantly projectile vomiting the moment he tastes something foreign in his mouth. Now we just cough and gag and cry.

Last night was no different. He was forced fed broccoli which he then spit into the cup trying to "wash it down". Then we made him eat the carrot. And here come the tears.

We tried every trick in the book... if you eat it, you can go outside and play. If you don 't eat it, you're going to bed early. Nothing worked. He sat there crying and gagging with a partially chewed carrot in his mouth. I was determined to make my point so I picked him up and carried him upstairs to his room for bed. More tears. I spent ten minutes in his room while he desperately tried to swallow the carrot. My heart is breaking at this point, but I can't turn back now. I spend another five minutes trying to get him to spit out the carrot so he can just go to bed. Finally he relents, spits out the carrot and crawls in bed sobbing.

I hug him. I kiss him. I tell him that next time he should eat his vegetables so this doesn't happen again.

He replies through his tears, "But Mommy, I thought you loved me."

Crushed. Being the bad guy, worst part of the job.

Exiled....

2011-07-27T10:43:00.004-04:00

This week I was so excited for Ryker to start his swimming lessons. He has grown by leaps and bounds this summer in the swimming department. He can swim a pretty decent distance under water without help, float on his back all by himself, and tread water a little bit. No more floaties or vests at the pool for him. Even still, I thought it would be good for him to be taught by a real lifeguard (and not just me throwing him in the deep in... sink or swim, son).

We had to be at the recreation club at 8:30 and arrived right on the nose. I signed him in and proceeded to head over to the benches to watch my little Michael Phelps in the making. I was immediately intercepted by the Parks & Rec director who told me that parents had to wait outside of the fence during swim lessons.

Of course, me being me, questioned the reasoning for this. She advised me that it is for the child's safety and to help the lifeguards instruct the class more efficiently. When parents are close, the children are easily distracted.

Ok, seriously... we are talking about a class full of four year olds. The pool is intimidating enough as it is without these little kids worrying about where their mommy is! They are suppose to jump in the pool, with an instructor they don't know?

Not wanting to cause a scene at 8:30 in the morning in front of small children, I hung my head and took my spot on the outside of the fence. Unfortunately the sun was rising on yet another scorcher of a day and beaming its sizzling rays where all the parents stood waiting... like little puppy dogs waiting to get picked up at the pound.

My son's class then moves to the opposite side of the pool where I can barely catch a glimpse through the chain links.

Forty five minutes of being exiled... standing in the dew drenched grass in flip flops, sweat rolling down my neck, and not being able to see my son's impressive dog paddle. And on being distracted? Ryker must have asked the instructor 20 times where his mommy was.

I don't know what it is about a pool, the heat and ignorant people (life guards or parks & rec directors) but I seem to black out and turn into Monster Mom.

I proceeded to express my unhappiness with the situation with the director after class was over. And since she had been standing in the shade the entire time, she was very sympathetic. Or not. In a pointless maneuver, I am revving up my argument and she stops me in my tracks, "Look Mrs. Simpson, its pool rules. Like it or not. You can come back tomorrow or would you like a refund?"

At this point I did in fact want a refund, but more importantly I wanted to argue. And rub my sweaty armpits all over this condescending bitch :)

But for the second time that day, I hung my head and stomped off to the other side of the fence to get in my furnace-mobile and go home. To the comfort of AC.

Ryker will now be taking private swimming lessons.... in the bath tub.

Enough already...

2011-07-23T10:51:00.003-04:00

The last few days in Culpeper have been hell... literally. With temperatures topping out at 104 degrees and the heat index over 120 degrees, what's a girl to do? Especially a girl that is supervising five children?!

This week while my sister is basking in Bermuda's beautiful beaches (and significantly less humidity) I have been watching her daughters (plus two of my own). No big deal because I am super Mom and what is three more? Except these poor kids can't step outside without their little dirty faces melting off from the heat. Any attempted outside adventures have lasted less than five minutes and result in the need for large amounts of ice water and popsicles!

For the kid's last day together, I figured we would have a day at the pool (because you can't really feel the sweat when your swimming in it). Great idea... I gave myself a pat on the back for being such a great mommy/aunt and braving the heat to give the kiddos a fun day!

In the words of Julia Roberts.... Big mistake. BIG! HUGE!

We arrived at the pool right at 11AM (because last week I was turned away when the pool was "At Capacity" and I wasn't about to miss out today). I was a few minutes early so it didn't alarm me that no one was there yet... you know how employed teenagers are these days. And I figured the lifeguards were still recovering from a Monster energy drink binge from the night before.

At 11:15 more people were arriving and we were all huddled under a small bit of shade the club house offered.

11:20 - Getting more annoyed. I put a call into the property manager. No answer, left voicemail. Sent email.

11:30 - I have now sweated off about 12 pounds and the kids have drank every bit of liquid I brought for us. Surely they would be here soon. Surely the manager would call me back. Surely.

11:55 - Why have I stood out here for so long? The kids are dripping with sweat. I keep thinking I have bugs crawling up my legs but its actually the sweat running down my legs. I have a brief argument with the receptionist at the property managers office who swears that the manager is in but just isn't picking up the phone.

Me- Are you in an office setting... can you go find her?
Snooty Tooty - I'm not allowed to leave my desk to do that.
Me - Is your office air conditioned? Because this sidewalk isn't and I would like to know why NO ONE is here and why I can't get in touch with ANY ONE!
Snooty Tooty - Would you like to hold Ma'am?
Me - No. I would like to swim. Can I talk to a supervisor?
Snooty Tooty - I'm sorry Ma'am, this doesn't constitute an emergency and our supervisors are to be contacted for emergency's only.
Me - It will be if I don't talk to someone.
Snooty Tooty - Please hold.

And I leave another message for a supervisor (although the bitch probably put me through to the janitor or something)

Noon - Drag the crying, whining, slick with sweat children back to the car because I am officially DONE!. And they cry and whine more because they are hot and want to swim. I relent and agree to wait 10 more minutes in the comfort of the 95 degree car on the leather seats that have now reached hot lava status.

12:15 - Carol calls from the property management company (and claims she is a supervisor but I'm pretty sure she was a janitor still) and apologizes - like it matters at this point. Both guards simultaneously called out at 10:45 and new lifeguards are on their way and should arrive in a few minutes.

Furious, annoyed, demonic... these are all words that only briefly describe my state of mind at this point. But seeing as I have waited for an hour and a half, what is a few more minutes. I call an order in for pizza since the kids haven't had lunch yet and resolve to make the best of a crappy day.

And so we wait.

And wait.

A little after one, I am ready to explode. Again, why am I still waiting? I think it was a matter of pure stubbornness. I refused to take these sweaty little kids home without submersing them in some type of water. I refused to deal with tears and disappointment of five kids who needed to get in that pool as much as I did.

I call the property manager for one last bitch fest... and luckily for them, they closed at 1pm. Convenient.

At 1:30, I lose all hope and am ready to forgo the pool, the pizza, the day! And then a little angel car pulls up and out rolls two red-suit-clad lifeguards. And the pool company manager that is unforunate enough to encounter me, who has now been waiting for over two hours. Again, why did I wait that long? Oh yeah, now the pizza man is here.

Evidently, there are no lifeguards they could call locally and had to dispatch them from Alexandria. Which by the way... the darling supervisor/janitor knew at 12:15 when she called me and told me the would be here in a matter of minutes.

The gates of heaven opened up... well the pool gates actually and after waiting another agonizing ten minutes for them to test the water, we were able to swim. We all jump in feet first anticipating the refreshing relief of the pool... too bad it was like warm bath water.

We all swim for a while. Breaks are agonizing because the moment you get out of the water, your skin begins to sizzle. The kids complain they are hot. I lovingly respond, "Deal with it. Swim and like it."

By four o'clock, we all have sweated and swam long enough.

Thank goodness for the comforts of air conditioning... walking into the house was like an oasis of wonderfully blessed COOL!

But again today, heat indexes up in the 120's. And me? I'm comfortable in the AC and any ideas of the pool have long escaped me.

Any other day...

2011-07-19T22:08:00.002-04:00

Today is my Dad's birthday. He would be 63 today.

But for me, it was like any other day. I woke up this morning and immediately remembered what today was... but as usual in my house, I'm never able to sit still long enough to really let difficult things sink in. I went about my day, running the kids to camp, to a doctor's appointment, the grocery store... always busy. And the weight of the day escaped me.

As usual though, when you ignore something it tends to come back and kick you in the ass with a vengeance. After running at max speed through the grocery store, I hopped in the car in a rush to pick the kids up from church. The radio starts playing "If Heaven Wasn't So Far Away".

....cue the tears....

I miss my Dad. But more importantly I hate all the things he has missed.

I wish more than anything he would've had a chance to meet his only grandson. I wish that adorable little stubborn boy of mine could have known his Papa. I can't even imagine what Ryker would have meant to my Dad. Or all the fun and experiences they would have shared by now.

I honestly believe that even though they never met, they share some type of connection. Ryker has a small birthmark on his arm, and we have always told him it was an "angel kiss" from Papa. Ryker talks about my Dad like he knew him and he tells me all the time how he misses him.

Everyone does... my sweet baby girl tears up every time the topic of my Dad is brought up. She was only two when he passed but she has retained memories of him to this day.

My Mom still cries for my Dad. I know she is lonely and missing him all the time. I can't not imagine the heartache she feels from losing her best friend and partner.

Tonight, five of his grandkids sent up balloons to Heaven. We stood in my back yard and sang Happy Birthday. It wasn't long before Papa caught the balloons and we could no longer see them.

It melted my heart to see them looking up to the sky, loving and remembering him.

I just hope he knows, that no matter how busy life gets, we have not forgotten him.

Happy Birthday Daddy...

Stuck in a hole.

2011-07-14T14:21:00.003-04:00

Anyone that knows me well enough knows that I may not be... how should I say this... the absolute best driver. I tend to bump into things here and there. I get it honest though, my mom's van has seen more bumpers than a NASCAR vehicle!

I am also terrible at parking and backing up. Luckily my van is equipped with back up sensors that I am sure have saved a few pedestrians and mailboxes. I try though, honestly I try.

Yesterday I decided I would park behind the store because I had no parking pass and was already slapped with a parking ticket last week (oh, the joys of a small town). Doesn't sound too dangerous right? Well behind the store there is an alley and two spaces that are flanked by two very ominous brick walls. I had a hard enough time getting my van (which by the way is the widest on the market) into the space and straight. I honestly didn't have a clue how I was going to get it out.

When it was nearing closing time, I opened the back door to take stock of my situation.

Screwed.

The tenant above the store that owns the other parking space had slipped her SUV in (I have no clue how) at some point.

Remember now, there are walls on either side of us and a nice brick wall on the other side of a VERY NARROW alley. And let us not forget the fact that... well HELL... I'm not a good driver!

So while I am debating how I can airlift my van out or maybe just sleep in the back of the store for a night, a friend stops in to say hello. I show him my dire situation. And he laughs. Pretty much at me.

And after he is done laughing, he agrees to help try to rescue my wide-ass van from its tiny hole. And he spends about 10 minutes and completes what I believe to be a 94 point turn.

And voila... my van is free! And will never be parked back there again. Go ahead Town of Culpeper... feel free to ticket my illegally parked van that is comfortably situated in a VERY open space with no brick walls or oppressive SUV's!

I. Hate. The. Dentist.

2011-07-11T11:24:00.002-04:00

So much that I haven't been in two years.

It is funny how much time can make you forget. Like after childbirth, you forget all about the agony you just went through when you look at that little smiling pudgy face.

I am writing this so I DO NOT FORGET. I hate the dentist. It is agony.

It is a sick and horrible chorus of drills and suction and scraping. It is the nauseating smell of latex gloves. The headache you get from squinting from the either the spotlight they shine on your mouth or to dodge the water sprays. The horrible taste of blood in your mouth. The white knuckles and numb toes from gripping within an inch of your circulation.

And it is the hygienist that smiles and politely asks while digging and prodding and making you bleed if you have been flossing. No bitch, that would be why you are scraping my soul out from between my teeth.

Thankfully the dentist pops in for a 60 second interruption to tell me that I have to get my wisdom teeth pulled. How does she manage that and make the big bucks? What exactly is it that the dentist DOES?!

The hygienist finishes by brushing my teeth with peppermint flavored sand and after a quick spray and suction I am "Good to go until next time... "

Next time? Nope, I have documentation now so I will not forget how much I. Hate. The. Dentist.

Counting down...

2011-05-26T11:31:00.003-04:00

I can hardly believe in just three short days I will be on a ship headed to Bermuda!

And of course with my household, this week has been so stressful and hectic. It started out with an ER visit Monday night with Ryker. He spiked an extremely high fever and was completely delirious with a rash on his face and chest.

The last three days we have been coping with this mystery virus, high temps and crankiness and have had several doctors appointments. My poor little man has been poked and prodded numerous times. But in his true spirit, he does not go down without a fight. Monday night it took three of us to hold him down to get a blood draw. And yesterday he kicked the doctor square in the nuts when he tried to swab his throat. My little guy is such a fighter :) Although I don't think the doctor thought it was quite as endearing as I do.

So my bags are almost packed, the house will be completely cleaned to the utmost OCD standards on Saturday and then we will be ready to go!

Ooooooh.... pink sands here I come! Get a Mojito ready for me...

Gearing up...

2011-05-14T15:31:00.007-04:00

The last couple of weeks have been very busy.

And I have failed miserably at keeping up with this blog like I promised.

And again, I promise to try harder.

So whats been keeping me so busy?

Well besides the husband, four kids, dog, house to clean, laundry to do, dinner to cook, mouths to clean, earth to save, bathroom to scrub.... ahh the list could go on and on!

I've become ridiculously addicted to two things....

ZUMBA

I start to twitch if I can't make it to one of the four classes I take during the week. For an entire hour I can salsa and cha-cha my buns off (literally) and I feel like I am at some hot-spot night club... minus the roofies and sticky floors! I've lost about 15 pounds in the last two months by watching my calories and channeling my inner latina dancer... what a perfect combo!

COUPONING

I hate feeling like I am missing out on something. So when I started watching TLC's "Extreme Couponing" I felt like I completely missed the boat on a new excuse to shop! And in my true fashion... I can't just do something a "little bit"! I have to become completely OCD about it! And so here I sit now, an official couponer. Not a sale ad, newspaper insert or web coupon can escape my grasp. I am the lady in the line that everyone hates... that takes an hour to check out and has a binder, complete with a filing system to rival the National Archives!

It's completely addictive and I feel like I am getting paid to pursue my favorite pastime, SHOPPING!
Finally, Ken and I are preparing for our 5th Anniversary Bermuda Cruise. I can't even begin to say how excited I am about this trip...to get away from it all, relax on the beach, spend some much needed quality time together and reliving and making memories with my wonderful husband! Two weeks and counting until I will have my freshly pedicured toes buried in that pink sand!!

I wonder if they have Zumba in Bermuda? Or if I can use coupons aboard the ship?

Ray of Sunshine

2011-04-12T08:06:00.004-04:00

April is challenging for me.

April showers may bring May flowers, but it also brings the blues along for me! I can't stand the sunny day teasers only to be let down the next day with thunderstorms.

So after yesterday's glorious rays were followed by rain all morning, I decided to provide myself with my own little taste sunshine.

Ahhhh... the beauty of UV rays. Well I guess technically they aren't suppose to be beautiful, with the whole skin-cancer causing thing... but they are oh-so-glorious to me! I can't help but feel good when the warmth of the lamps are beating down on me! They light up my goggles and my soul! Not to mention the sun-kissed bronze glow I am enjoying in the middle of some very rainy days.

So I say anything that is this good for my spirit can not be that bad for me... I mean seriously, what do all those doctors and scientists know anyways?

It's time...

2011-04-09T17:42:00.003-04:00

Wow... I'm surprised they even let me back on this blog. My poor little neglected red-headed stepchild of a blog...

Well I'm back.

I love writing. I even managed to acquire a couple of readers that enjoyed reading my nonsense! So why not do it. I am sure I can come up with something interesting to say.

Well not right now. That's too much pressure! I just came back for goodness sake!

But soon... I'll have something amazing to say. I hope.

Techno-cool

2010-01-01T20:46:00.002-05:00

So how cool am I now? I am blogging from my iPhone... I know, way beyond anything I could normally do on my old antique flip phone I use to have!!

As we enter into a new decade, I resolve to master this iPhone I am now addicted to, devise a family budget we can all live with, get to the gym more often, and only do things that truly make me happy!!

That being said, I'll have to save blogging for the ole PC for now because I have yet to master this damn touch screen that is evidently smarter than me!

It's 2 AM...

2009-11-30T01:48:00.002-05:00

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...

2009-11-05T18:14:00.004-05:00

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

2009-10-26T22:23:00.003-04:00

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...

2009-10-09T11:38:00.008-04:00

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

2009-10-08T16:36:00.002-04:00

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

2009-10-06T11:11:00.013-04:00

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

2009-03-24T07:59:00.006-04:00

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?

2009-03-15T16:16:00.004-04:00

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!!

2009-03-06T08:58:00.006-05:00

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!

2009-02-25T18:06:00.004-05:00

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

2009-02-23T14:50:00.003-05:00

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

2009-02-10T11:13:00.003-05:00

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

2009-02-04T14:11:00.002-05:00

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

2009-02-02T17:47:00.006-05:00

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

2009-02-02T16:43:00.003-05:00

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

2009-01-16T15:36:00.004-05:00

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

2009-01-08T09:14:00.002-05:00

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...

2009-01-08T09:01:00.002-05:00

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.

Scrooge You

2008-12-19T15:05:00.003-05:00

This morning I set out to met my girls for bagels and coffee at Panera.

It was one of those mornings where nothing went right.

Ryker was in a mood. He didn't seem to mind the gut-wrenching stench coming from his diaper and threw a holy-hell fit when I dried to change him. Poo and tantrums don't mix... just ask the wall by the changing table and the lovely red shirt I had intended to wear today.

When I finally de-pooed the wall and myself and went downstairs, I tried to feed him some breakfast, knowing all-to-well that he wouldn't touch anything at Panera. Evidently bananas and yogurt weren't on the Prince's menu today... they were however all over my floor and table.

So I gave up on getting some food into the little brat's body and start packing things up to go "bye-bye".

And so ensues another tantrum. "Noooooooooooo bye-bye.........nooooooooooooooooo bye-bye. Noooooooooooooo shoe..........nooooooooooooooooooooo shoe!"

I am not sure at what point my son learned to speak so well, but it certainly coincides with his newly found independence and defiance. And oh, what a wonderful thing it is. Welcome to the terrible two's... about four months early.

So here I am, fighting with this little monster, trying to get shoes and a coat on him. All the while I am breaking into a sweat in the last-minute-sweater I had to change into. And mid-tantrum, he throws himself down and cracks his head. And in a wonderful mommy-moment, my reaction is.... "Serves you right son."

I scoop him up and strap him in the car. Great, now I'm late. I hate being late. It makes me twitch. And sweat. Even more.

And of course one of my girl's sends me a text to get my butt to Panera... dammit.. that girl knows how slow I am at texting. And not a good idea while driving... and twitching... and sweating.

Finally we arrive. And Ryker is in full-on bad ass mode. He won't sit, he won't eat... except for the few moments he eats raspberry cream cheese by the fist full right out of the container. He is harassing some poor man sitting by the fire quietly working away on his laptop.

I can't concentrate on the conversation. And damn its hot in Panera. Still sweating.

I am about to excuse myself from my friends and strangle my son, when some lovely good-Samaritan mom offers up some fruit snacks that finally shut the little man up for a full five minutes.

And then he is off and running again. He heads back over towards the fireplace, where another man is sitting, reading the paper. I immediately go retrieve him, hoping not to interrupt anyone else's quiet time and apologize to the two men...

"I'm sorry, we will be leaving soon."

And the newspaper-reading man's response, "Can't be soon enough for me."

Can you see the dumb-founded look on my face? Excuse me? I was trying to be nice. I'm ready to have a nervous breakdown trying to keep up with this beast and here I am apologizing and you want to be an ass? Haven't you had kids? Or grandkids? Is this not a public establishment where EVERYONE, no matter their level of good behavior is welcomed?

Scrooge you bastard. Merry f*cking Christmas.

And in the words of one of my lovely girlfriends, "You want peace and quite, go to Starbucks asshole."

(I may have added the asshole to her quote, but the sentiment was definitely there!)

Sleeping In...

2008-12-18T15:03:00.005-05:00

This morning my son blessed me. He didn't wake up at his typical 6:45 - butt-crack-of-dawn hour.

And I got to sleep in. For the first time in I don't know how long.

Well, a modified version of sleeping in. I still had to get up at 7am and feed the three other kiddies and make sure they had lunches and teacher's presents (which ofcourse one of them left behind their packages).

But at 7:25 when I sent them out the door, Prince Ryker was still snoozing. So I timidly crawled back in bed, well-knowing that the sound of my head hitting the pillow would surely arise the sleeping beast.

And still he slept... so I dozed. Awoken once again only a few minutes later to my husband getting ready for work. And then again at 8:30 to a telemarketing phone call trying to sell me satellite service (um, no f*cking thanks, I'll be going back to bed now).

And then at about 9:10, I began to hear the prehistoric calls of my teradactyl son.

"Maaaaaaaaaamaaaaaaaaaaaaaa...................Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! I TUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK"

translation: "Mama, Mama, I'm stuck" and I go into his room to see his chubby little feet stuffed through the rails of his crib and he is most definitely stuck. Again. Third time this week.

So although I didn't actually get to sleep all the way until the late late hour of 9am... spending the extra time in bed was so lovely. So refreshing in fact, I might just go sneak in a 20 minute nap while Ryker is power-napping to ready himself for his evening!

Why God Invented Camera Phones...

2008-12-13T00:37:00.003-05:00

Ok... so he really didn't and I am sure there are many many more things we have to be thankful for... but tonight it is the camera phone.

Tonight the camera phone enabled us to capture the "Dancing Drunk Lady" as we ventured out to celebrate Christen's birthday. After dinner, Christen, Tracy, her friend Misti and myself all headed over to the bar to finish out the night.

And there she was. From the time we walked in, until we left after midnight. Dancing away. In her own little world. Occassionaly she would hold up her lighter. Sometimes it was her thumbs in an odd sort of dance.

There are very few people I have seen dancing in bars who actually should be dancing. She was definitely not one of those people. But I think it would be nice to spend a few moments in her oblvious little world, dancing off beat and singing the wrong songs, and not giving a damn what anybody is thinking in a full bar where NO ONE is dancing.

Me on the other hand, I would rather spend my evening in the bar making fun of the "Dancing Drunk Lady" and luckily I shared company with some fantastic ladies that are on the same page as me. Because you better believe had one of my girls started dancing - I'd whipped out that camera phone and posted their video!!

(Pardon the shakey video - I think TG may have had one too many!)

She Does Exist!

2008-12-07T16:54:00.009-05:00

Has it really been almost a month since I posted anything?!?!

I knew I was slacking, but I had no idea I was this bad. That was until I started getting emails and phone calls from my few faithful followers asking what the hell was wrong with me? They would no longer check my blog daily and would in turn remove themselves from my pitiful little list of followers unless I posted something soon.

You love me, you really love me :) And here I thought no one would really miss my pointless little old ramblings.

Well here is to my followers.... few as you may be.

I've actually got a lot to chat about too... hang on ladies (and gentleman)... you might be here for a while.

Thanksgiving..

I was so excited this year to host Thanksgiving in our new house. I busted ass for the entire week before decorating the house and cleaning every nook and crannie. I conquered my inability to make a wire-ribboned bow by buying a Bow-Dabra (shameless, I know... but I got some booti-ful bows now).
In the end, I pulled it all off... the house looked gorgeous, dinner was fantastic and the company was great. We had alot to be thankful for this year, and the consensus around the dinner table was all a huge thanks for "Family".

So as the men retired to attempt to keep their eyelids open long enough to see a play or two of football... my sister and I hit the sale ads preparing ourselves for Black Friday.

So who is crazy enough to actually go out on Black Friday and brave the mobs and life-threatening stampedes to save $4 on the latest gadget? Me. Me. Me. And my bestest girlfriend... and for the last couple of years we have drug our booties out of bed at an insane hour and hit the stores. Last year... faithful, committed shopper that I am... I did it with an 8 month old and 6 year old. Brave, I know. Although some would just say crazy.

But this year I was sans kids and my sister, who was a Black Friday virgin, decide to join in the fun. So Thanksgiving night we sat down to map out our route and get a game plan in mind. And then, to our surprise we ran across a couple of ads from stores that were open on Thanksgiving!!

OOOOOOOOOOH! Let the fun begin - my sister and I ran out of the house at 6:30 in a furry trying to make it to Big Lots that closed at 8pm and Kmart that closed at 9pm. We call this "pregaming" in the shopping addicts world.

So Thanksgiving night we closed down Big Lots, and then Kmart... and then at 9pm we still weren't fulfilled... so we hit Super Walmart... whose wonderful doors never close. At 11:30 we were back home... just in time for a few hours power nap before we had to get up again.

At 2:30 my alarm went off. I realized at that moment that I had a serious problem. That no one should rise at 2:30 in the morning to shop. That no sale could be that good to get up this damn early. But I got up anyways... arose my sleeping, grumpy sister and we were out of the door by 3am.

We were headed to Northern Virginia.... to hit the Mecca of all shopping... Potomac Mills. We met up with my bestest bud and so our day began. At an hour most were still snug in their beds dreaming of sugar plums... we were elbowing fellow shoppers for MP3 players and Hannah Montana barbies.

It was insane and nonstop. Walmart was the worst. We got there about 6am, only an hour after they opened and you could barely move in the store. It took us almost 20 minutes just to get the cart into the front door. We stood in line to check out, with two heaping carts for almost 45 minutes before some kindly Black Friday angel let us in on a secret fast-paced line. In a mission that rivaled 007.... I scoped out the line first, to make sure it was legit... then I called in for one cart at a time. My sister came first with her cart... and then after we were certain this was a real line and someone wasn't going to tell us to get lost and send us to the very back... we called in for our second cart. And in 10 minutes, we were through the line and out of the store. Everytime a checkout register rings... a Black Friday Angel gets her wings. Bless our Black Friday Angel.

We only took a few short breaks for food. By 1pm our stomachs were ready to eat themselves, so we thought it best to take a short hiatus for lunch. After that we headed back to the mall and cruised through the crowds. We had so many bags that we grabbed a Costco shopping cart (you know how gi-normous thouse things are) and proceeded to push it around the mall. By the time our evening was over, the cart was full and the back of my van was bulging.

I am still not quite sure of everything I got. It is all such a blur. And I am writing about this now, because I honestly think it took me a full week to recover from our marathon shopping day. We started our day at 2:30am and I didn't get home until almost 11pm. I had to get up and go to the work the next day and was virtually useless. I was so exhausted I couldn't see straight.

But it was great. It was exciting. It will be happening again next year. And my sister is now officially a Black Friday whore!! Check out her stash -

And so now this week I am fighting off the Black Friday funk... I have the cold from hell that I swear came from touching too many germy shopping carts. My hypothesis has proven true because sister has got the same funk too!

It's worth it though. All my shopping was done in one swoop... even if it did take 18 hours worth of shopping to get it done! Anyone want to join in on the insanity next year?!?

Estate of Elements

2008-11-10T07:28:00.003-05:00

Have you ever gone somewhere and just really felt out of your element?

Yup, I have too. And Friday was no exception.

In fact my element was no where to be found on this periodic table of prestige I was privy to Friday night.

I accompanied by boss lady and bestest bud, Susan McCorkindale to a private book signing/party that was being held in her honor at an estate in Fauquier County.

The word estate and the fact that the home (I use this word loosely) did not have a number, just an entire street... should have clued me in to what I should expect.

So after getting lost amongst the guest houses for a bit, I finally find the driveway that lead up to the main house...er mansion. Its gorgeous... I mean like gorgeous beyond belief. I walk up the stone front porch (again, porch does not seem like a sufficient word to describe the front - I am sure there is some fabulous french word that I should be calling it, but I have not clue what it is!)

The front door is decked out with an adorable sign that says "Please Come In" in every color in the Crayola box. So I open the front door... and whoa.

Now I have seen some beautiful homes. I have seen some damn big homes. But this one takes the cake. And the cupcake, and pie and any other confectionary delight you can think of.

I felt like I had just walked into an episode of MTV's Cribs and I was waiting for some rap star to come out and show me where he likes to "Chizzle". From where I stood in the foyer, I counted about five sitting rooms... and I had barely stepped my foot into the door.

I was trying to bring my jaw back up from the floor when I was greeted by the hostess and host and led into the kitchen. We aren't in Culpeper anymore, Toto.

I said very meekly, "What a beautiful home... "(understatement of the year)

I saw the smiling face of my sweet Suzie and felt a little more at ease. Now Suz is the type where she can fit in anywhere. No matter where you take her, she can make friends and talk to anyone. I thought I was kinda like that... kinda. Not so much Friday night.

The more guests that poured in, the more quiet I got. I was suppose to be there pushing tshirts, but I couldn't get any intelligent words to come out of my mouth.

There must have been sixty plus people. And they were all fabulous. And beautiful. And loaded. This was definitely the upper class that I am not usually in company with.

Now I don't consider myself a pauper or anything, and I can hold my own in a crowd. But I think it was just the sheer numbers of it all. I had just barely recovered from stepping into the Mansion on the Hill.... and then all these high-falutin couples come in... I suddenly became mute.

I kept looking longingly at the housekeeper, wondering if she wanted to be my friend?!

Now all these couples were lovely, and sweet... and they all introduced themselves to me too as they sat down to chat with Suzy. I never shook so many hands weighed down by so much carat weight in all my life!! And they were in their "casual attire"... which meant fur vests, APO jeans and Jimmy Choo boots. I sported my Fan Club Shirt, Lane Bryant Jeans (on sale for $39.99 because I had a coupon, and Payless boots - BOGO ofcourse!)

I found myself just sitting back... observing. There were so many different personalities in that room. It was amazing to watch and to listen. It was so funny to hear what they all talked about... how Buffy and Chancelor were doing in private school, what designers had the best look this fall, how my measly 60 acres compares to your expansive 500.

Wanna know what I talk about when I get together with my girlfriends? How much the kids annoy me... How I paid my Mastercard with my Visa last month... and how psycho drugs could probably do me some good...

Yeah, I was a LOT out of place.

Plus I totally sucked at my tshirt sales. As much money as this crowd was swimming in, I couldn't sell the shirts. I needed to. But I felt a little bit like Oliver Twist, "Please sir, by a tshirt". I didn't want sympathy buys... although in hindsight, if I had pushed the pauper angle, I probably would have made a killing!

So I left the party, having only sold a handful of tshirts and acting like a total ass. I mean it was so not me... I never get intimidated or quiet for that matter. I am know for my bubbly personality and always making friends. It failed me that night though.

I called my husband and told him about my night, describing all the people I had met (or rather just watched or listened to) and about this amazing mansion. He was so sweet. He could tell I was down and told me that no one in that room had anything on me. I was just really disappointed in myself - that I let status get the best of me.

To assauge my disappointment, I spent an hour wandering through Wal-Mart at midnight. Not Neiman Marcus, but it is my home away from home.

Suz could tell that I was not myself that night, and emailed me later to say "You have the right to be anywhere. You are just as good. Just as smart (probably smarter). And certainly just as beautiful as anyone else. Own that, and you will be fine. Let no one cow you. Got me?"

Yeah, who needs money and status when you have friends and family like I do?

Welcome Home

2008-11-06T13:04:00.003-05:00

I have been whining about missing Jazzercise for months now.

My move to Culpeper, as wonderful as it has been, has taken me away from my beloved Jazzercise studio in Haymarket and the wonderful group of woman I use to "get jiggy" with. (and I am almost certain my girls would die of embarrassment if I ever used that phrase outside of this blog)

The closest studio to Culpeper is Warrenton... which is at best, a 30 minute drive. For one reason or another, I just didn't have the drive to go there.

That is until I got news of the end-of-the-year special. Only $34 for the rest of the year... no registration fee either! Leave it to a bargain to kick me in the ass to get out and exercise!

So I did... Yesterday I went to Warrenton and jazzed my little heart out for an hour. The dances were new, and I stumbled for much of the glass... but I was smiling the whole time. Today my aching abs and gluts tell me it was worth the while too!

It was also nice to take Ryker to play... without him screaming for the entire hour. Yup, my little man is all grown up. When I started Jazzing last year, Ryker was only six months old. I was still breastfeeding too, which caused a whole other set of problems -- I had to nurse him right before class, double up on the bras for the gi-normous ta-tas, and usually did not make it through an entire class because he was screaming.

Yesterday, he just played and danced to the music he heard coming from the other room.

I was disappointed because I didn't make it back this morning. Ryker was running a fever and I didn't want to risk getting anyone sick.

But it feels good to be home. Well again, my abs don't think so... but my mind sure does.

I Voted.

2008-11-04T08:51:00.003-05:00

I voted this morning.

It may not seem like something out of the ordinary, but seeing as this is the first time I have ever voted in the 10 years I have been able to, it was pretty special.

To those of you who don't know me well enough, or perhaps don't know this little tidbit... I have no political opinion. I know its not something to be proud of, and I don't go around advertising it... but I do own it. I own the fact that I just don't care either way.

gasp

Yup. I said it. I don't care. I have tried to care. I have tried to watch the debates and read up on whats going on, but still nothing. I should be ashamed, right? Maybe so, but I'm not. I hate politics. Every bit of it. And frankly, I'm sick of trying to fake an interest.

I have heard it all before, so spare your comments. I know as a citizen, I should take pride in my right to vote and be the first in line to the polls so that I can have an effect on my future.

Frankly, I wasn't even going to vote at all. I had registered, simply because I checked a little box when I changed addresses at the DMV. But I had no intentions.

Until my husband bullied me into it last night. He gave me the "Good American Citizen... " speech and "Do you know people died for your right to vote?" Yup. Still nothing. I am devoid of that piece of patriotism for one reason or another. I guess I could blame it on poor breeding?!? Nope. As a union worker, my dad campaigned for the Democrats every chance he got. Hell... my mom is working the polls this year. They always exercised their right to vote.

I am in all forms, a political naysayer. I don't know what is missing in me. But whatever it is, it is still not there.

I got up this morning at 5:30. I looked at my clock and then a battle proceeded in my sleepy, cloudy, non-political mind for forty-five minutes. Sleep. Vote. Sleep. Be a good American. Sleep. Make my husband happy. Sleep. Vote.

Dammit. I got up. Not sure what reason drug me out of bed. Curiosity played a part in it. I had never done it before, whats is it all about?

So at 6:40 I pulled up to Culpeper Methodist Church, and almost turned right around. The line was ENORMOUS and spanned the entire parking lot. But I bit the bullet, grabbed my coffee and my pop tart and got in line.

And an hour and 45 minutes later, I stood before the computer to cast my vote. Touch, touch, touch, touch... and that was it. I voted.

I thought that I would have some great epiphany after I voted. Some overwhelming surge of American patriotism. A swelling of pride for doing my duty as a citizen. Still nothing.

So I walked away from the polls this morning with nothing. Well except my "I Voted" sticker that will get me a free cup of coffee at Starbucks later. Maybe not a complete waste after all.

Halloween 2008

2008-10-31T22:24:00.013-04:00

This year Halloween was a blast. I finally live in a neighborhood where the kids can run up and down the sidewalks and get ridiculous amounts of candy. And with there being over 600 plus house in this subdivision - the candy lasts passed 7pm... not like on Mountainview!

My sister and I joined families again for the second year running. And although we were missing Kayla and Skylar, the kids had so much fun.

Genavieve was a cowgirl (although she kinda looked more like a redneck Dorothy)

Ashlyn was decked out as an Egyptian princess... and looked stunning! And Mackenzie was a gorgeous good witch!

But the show stopper to the evening...

Was of course Sandra Dee and Danny Zuko...

My sister had the brilliant idea of dressing the two little ones up to show homage to our absolute favorite musical (Gabriella and Troy ain't got nuttin on these two!)

We never realized what a HUGE hit it would be. People were stopping the duo on the street, calling friends and husbands out to the front porch, and taking pictures of our adorable pair.

Brylee strutted her stuff in her little poodle skirt and cardigan and kept the glasses on all night (she is walking a little sideways now). And Ryker was such a trooper, sporting his "T" Birds jacket and trying to walk in Chucks that were a size too big.

At first Ryker was totally confused, why we were walking in the dark and going to everyones house. But it only took a few before he got the hang of things. He was walking up to every house saying "Unnnnnnn Candy! Unnnnnnnnn Candy!" (translation - want candy!)

Brylee had the cute factor all bagged up and said "Twick o tweet" and "Cank You" perfectly!

It was such a great night. We got home and mom had prepared this huge spread of goodies for all of us. We are already making plans for next year... Prom Queen and King?!?!

Shout out to the Hubs...

2008-10-31T16:36:00.002-04:00

Evidently I struck a nerve yesterday with my post. Innocent as it may have seemed, my husband was a bit perturbed.

So I am posting a correction. My husband did not ignore my phone calls earlier this week when I was suppose to meet him for lunch. He was working... very hard might I add... as he as been doing non-stop for the last couple of weeks. Deadlines at work have been insane and my wonderful, hard-working hubby bears the brunt of it all. And so as much as he would have loved to have lunch with me and the Monster... he couldn't get away and couldn't even get to his phone. In fact, I don't think he ate lunch at all that day.

There seems to be a lack of praise on my blog for Hubs. In case any one doesn't already know - my husband is the best. He is all the things women look for wrapped up in a wonderful teddy bear package! He is honest, hard-working, an amazing father, a great communicator, would give me the world if I asked for it, and manages to put up with all my BS.

I just think that I should put all that on record. I struck gold when I landed this one, ladies. Even if he won't put up the blinds... (see what he has to put up with?)

Let's Give Them Something to Blog About

2008-10-30T17:54:00.003-04:00

Things on the Simpson Front have been pretty quiet. I haven't had too much to talk about... no terrible toddler tragedies, no super sexy book signings... I'm running on "E". Luckily enough for me though, gas prices have dropped drastically!

The kids are all a buzz about Halloween, I have started work at Pepperberries and use my week as a 5-day weekend. I haven't stayed home a single day. You would think that being a stay-at-home mom, I might actually keep my butt at home every now again - but NOPE! Not me. Since I have given up my weekends to the wonderful world of retail, I feel a need to do ANYTHING but be home during the week.

Monday - Got the kids on the bus and went to Fredericksburg. I just sorta piddled around, checked out a couple of thrift stores and was home in time for the kids to get off the bus.

Tuesday - Got the kids on the bus and went to Manassas. I had plans to meet my husband for lunch, but since he ignored my phone calls, Ryker and I did Wendy's and I hit the Kohl's, Old Navy, Bed Bath and Beyond trinity of shopping. Some jeans,boots, and a few fluffy bath towels later, my afternoon had gone and I had to hurry back to meet the bus.

Wednesday - My mom and I met my Grandmother for lunch at Grioli's in Bealeton. Ryker was a terror and threw french fries and ketchup everywhere. Then he was kind enough to get sick on the sidewalk outside the restaurant as a nice parting gift to the already-frazzled waitress.

Thursday - Back to Fredericksburg... that pesky task of being home by 3:15 for the kids kept me from hitting Ulta and Kirklands Monday. Task accomplished today.

Friday (tomorrow) - Believe it or not, I just might stay home. Well, for part of the day anyways. I do have to run out to Wal-Mart for candy and to Kohl's in Culpeper (I have Kohl's cash rewards that is burning a whole in my pocket!)

You would think with all the running around I did this week, I could have done that. But you can only squeeze so much in between the hours of 9 and 3pm! Plus add the fact that I am gallivanting with a toddler... it complicates things that much more.

And then this weekend... I am back to work at Pepperberries.. helping other people shop and playing with all the fabulous things they have in the store.

I don't mind working, in fact I am really loving Pepperberries...I just have this thing about having to be committed to something. What can I say, I'm a free bird. Well, between the hours of 9 and 3pm at least!

Too Hot for Borders

2008-10-20T08:53:00.005-04:00

So I can't decide if I am really that big or if Susan is really that small. I am leaning towards the latter.

Suz's book signing at Borders in Warrenton was a HUGE hit - she nearly sold out of books and the adorable GM Adam wants her back!

It was such a blast hanging out and being Suzy Q's bitch - another coffee, Boss Lady? Hows about some water? I got this personal assistant thing down!

Next stop Richmond...

It's a sad, sad day...

2008-10-17T13:15:00.002-04:00

Well, I am officially pouting...

Ryker didn't make the WFLS Baby Idol Top 10. Despite my best efforts to pimp and hussle my son to stardom, our dreams fell short. And my dining room will remain home to the kiddie tent instead of the gorgeous dining room set I was planning for!

I guess someone has a bigger address book than I do... although its hard to imagine.

Thanks to everyone who voted and put up with my obnoxious emails over the last few weeks!

I am off to invent some other way to furnish my house...

Anyone wanna buy a t-shirt?!?!

Ryker Mania

2008-10-15T23:11:00.005-04:00

As most of you know I have been shamelessly promoting my son in 93.3 WFLS's Baby Idol Contest.

I have sent out hundreds of emails - many of which have elicited the response, "And you are?!"... and yet I still persevere.

I am honestly not sure anymore if it is the dining room set from Powell's Furniture I am after or the glory and gratification I would get in being the winner... er, Ryker being the winner.

A lady at Wal-mart today commenting on how cute my little man was. Usually I just smile and grin and think in my head "If you only knew how bad he was!!" But today, I turned into a Pimp.

Yep, thats right. I am a pimp.... a hustler... a shameless pageant/contest mommy... Before the lady could even get her compliment out, I was telling her she needed to go to WFLS.com and vote for him. (You should do the same - RIGHT NOW)

It has gotten so bad, my girls are thinking of ways to "promote" their baby brother. They want to make up flyers if he makes it to the TOP TEN and wear shirts that say "VOTE FOR RYKER" to school and all over town.

We are working on making Ryker Simpson a household name... an official brand... I think I need to get some Ryker Fan Club shirts made up. It is Ryker hysteria over here!

I'm telling ya folks... RYKER FOR PRESIDENT!

Pic of the Day

2008-10-14T22:10:00.008-04:00

Ryker obviously doesn't subscribe to the old adage -

"You can pick your friends, but you can't pick your family"

Conterfeit Fan Club T's Order Form

2008-10-14T01:17:00.014-04:00

All I Want for Christmas...

2008-10-13T16:19:00.003-04:00

This morning my scale and I had a date. After some harsh words and throwing my drink in it's face, the relationship is finally over. I just can't deal with a liar.

Surely it isn't so. Obviously it was the 20 lb. towel I had wrapped around me. So I fully disrobed. Hmm... that Martha Stewart bath sheet has to weigh more than ONE POUND! Something is going on here.

I think it may just be my fat ass.

Whether or not my scale needs to be calibrated, one thing is for sure. I've been packing it on. And of course nobody has the balls enough to tell me.

"No sweetie, that sweater doesn't look like a maternity shirt. Its your stomach that does."

No, my friends are too sweet for that. And my husband? Not a chance. But he does enjoy showing me every notch down on his belt he achieves. My belt tells a sadder story. Four notches ago on my favorite belt, I was at my lowest weight. Just before my wedding two years ago. I've gone up and down on the belt holes in the last months, but this morning when I looked down to see what notch I was entering, I wanted to cry! Or take my belt off and beat my son with it and blame him for the "baby weight". (Ok, not really... you all know me better than that!)

So Ryker is 18 months old now - how long am I allowed to use the excuse "I just had a baby?". Judging from the hoards of friends that literally just had babies and are slinking back into their 'prepregnancy skinny jeans' - I think the excuse has reached its expiration date.

I was doing so well before I moved to Culpeper and my Jazzercise addiction came to a halt. Now anybody that knows me, knows exercise is not my thing. Most of my friends and family would never put exercise, addiction, and Courtney in the same sentence. Shopping, addiction, Courtney... yes, but exercise no.

But I loved it. I loved bouncing around to all the latest songs and pretending I wasn't a mom of four and out at some club instead. I made great friends, sweated a whole lot and dropped quite a few inches. And I miss it. And I miss the fourth notch on my belt too.

Culpeper is great and I love the new house... but Jazzercise is over 35 minutes away at best, so I feel lost with out it. The pounds are not lost though - I need exercise to keep my young girlish figure svelte.

So whats a girl to do? I am forgoing any sodas, chips, ice cream or anything that is generally not good for me but I eat in excess anyways. I am substituting for salads and all things rabbit-esque that might help me slim down a bit.

And as for exercise... well that's where the Christmas wish comes in. I'm not asking for lipo or a tuck (although I would gladly accept if offered)... I want a membership to Powell's Wellness Center. It is the nicest gym facility that offers a whole spectrum of classes that may just help fill my void for Jazzercise.

And since the place is a little swanky, and pricey... I have turned it into my Christmas request. So Hubs, mom and all others who care to contribute - put down your shopping lists and help support the "Courtney Needs a Gym Membership" Fund - hurry before I fall off the belt richter scale!

Wanna join the club?!

2008-10-12T15:15:00.007-04:00

If you haven't already run out and bought Confessions of a Counterfeit Farm Girl by Susan McCorkindale - then what the hell are you waiting for?!?!

And if you have and you are absolutely loving it as much as the rest of the population, then welcome to the Club...

The Counterfeit Fan Club that is....

And nothing says official like a FAN CLUB T-shirt!!

Get 'em while they are hot! Go ahead, everyone is doing it. And you don't want to be left out, now do you?!?!

Check out Susan's website and blog and see what its all about!http://www.susanmccorkindale.com/

Email me if you would like a shirt - $15 plus s/h if you need it sent somewhere!

We are open for business people - please form a single file line.

Thank you.

The Price of Blogging

2008-10-11T17:46:00.008-04:00

So this afternoon I was on the computer, tweaking my blog, reading other blogs. Oblivious to my son and my niece. Surely my husband, who was in the same room as they were was watching them, right?

Yeah, not so much. My niece Brylee (who disappeared for pictures) and Ryker climbed up on the table, got a glass of Koolaid my daughter had at lunch and proceeded to drink it.

After Ryker made an attempt to drink it out of the glass and spilled it everywhere, he just proceeded to drink it off the bench.

I don't think any amount of Shout will be getting this one out.

And Rykers face and belly and hands are permanently stained I believe.

Brylee said that Baby Ryker was bad bad... but here is the mess she had been fingerpainting in. How do I know you ask? Well her hands are stained red too.

And as for the bench - it is also stained a lovely shade of red, courtesy of Koolaid and the unsupervised babies.

I should pay better attention - or my husband should hire a nanny. Something.

Speaking of which, where are those damned kids?!

Success!!!

2008-10-10T11:11:00.003-04:00

THANK YOU!
THANK YOU!
THANK YOU!

Thanks to all the support of wonderful family and friends, Ryker has made it to TOP 20 on WFLS Baby Idol Contest!

Please help me keep the voting momentum going and continue to vote everyday. You can vote from home and from work! I know we all have busy schedules, but your support is appreciated so much!

Go to http://www.wfls.com/ and vote for Ryker - #3 and get him to the TOP 10!

Lots of Love~

Confessions of Confession

2008-10-08T22:27:00.006-04:00

Tonight I went to my dearest friends first book signing.

Susan McCorkindale, author of Confessions of a Counterfeit Farmgirl

This lady has moved and inspired me for a long time. Here is the letter I wrote to her tonight. Everyone should know how fantastic she is. And everyone should go buy her book, several in fact!

Dear Suz,

Can I just say you are fabulous? Your book is fabulous, you look fabulous, your spirit is fabulous, your friendship is fabulous. You just ooze the stuff from every inch of your cute self. I never imagined that being a part of something as trivial as the Claude Thompson PTO in Marshall, VA would lead me to such greatness. Greatness being you, and trivial I use lightly... we all know the Mafia is the shit!

Tonight you glowed. Everything was perfect. The backdrop, the wine, the friends, the outfit, the book... THE AUTHOR! You looked stunning in your hot little Lou-Lou number and those come-f*ck-me stiletto suede boots. Definitely too hot to be sitting behind a table, but I guess thats what ya came for.

I know it might not carry much weight coming from a housewife - but I am SO proud of you. I was so proud to stand in that room, sporting my Fan Club shirt and be your friend and a part of your life. We have seen alot of ups and downs in our short friendship, but since the first moment we met, I felt like you had just been a part of my life always.

Now before I start sounding like some sappy love-sick stalker - hear me out. It is not everyday you meet a tornado face to face. I never imagined one person could burn with such fire and energy all the time. Even at times when you probably wanted to crumble inside, you never did. You bring people up. You make people laugh. You make people wish they could be a part of your circle. I am so glad that you extended that circle to Culpeper to include me!

You are fabulous Suz. You deserve all the success and happiness in the world... and from the looks of tonight, it is right at your doorstep!

Congratulations Baby!

I love you!

Mary Pat Warter - The Best Damn Principal EVER!

The Fabulous Susan McCorkindale

And Yours Truly!

We Came, We Saw, We Conquered...

2008-10-08T06:11:00.005-04:00

A while back I wrote a post about my love for all things consignment and the WeeCycled Wardrobe Consignment sales. I made mention of a lady... who I lovingly called Hoarder Whore... that snatched clothes off the rack, regardless of what they were and then proceeded to plop her ass on the floor and go through her piles in the middle of the aisle. We didn't like this lady.

Never did I imagine that I would find a similar beast amidst my very own family members.

Hi, Mom. I'm talking about you.

I made the offer several weeks ago to help my mother clean out her garage. I use the term garage loosely, because it has become more of like a spider-invested twisted gift store. A while back she used her garage to display and sell her Home Interiors items. It has been quite some time since those sales, but the tables and the "stuff" still remain, pushing the limits of the garage to a whole new level.

When my mom raises her garage door, I am sure the neighbors are thinking that this woman has a sickness and she probably also has a dozen or so cats roaming around inside. Her garage definitely gives off the appearance of "crazy cat lady" and makes you think of those loony lonely old women that collect everything, including felines.

The saddest thing is my mother is completely sane (well for the most part, but that's a different post). She doesn't collect cats and the inside of her home is surprisingly tidy and beautifully decorated.

So when I offered to help her clean the garage, I simply did it to gain favorite daughter status.

I can happily report that I am #1. After this post however, my ranking might slip.

It started Sunday morning. I arrived at 9am, gun-ho and raring to go. I pushed the button on the garage door to go inside.... and as the metal door slowly went up, my little heart sank. Jeez - this was going to be impossible. I made my way through the obstacle of junk to the door, and tried my best to put a smile on my face and keep up my enthusiasm.

Hoarder Whore, er, Mom was in good spirits and even had a hearty breakfast prepared for us. I couldn't devour too much because I knew the sausage gravy would surely weigh me down and inhibit my abilities to perform miracles.

We got started on the garage, dragging things out to the driveway so we could clear a path and at least get a since of where we should get started. The work was arduous and dirty - I have never seen so many dead spiders, crickets and festering eggs in all my life. We employed a shop-vac to suck up all the little dead monsters.

About an hour into it, the driveway looked like we were having the biggest yard sale in history, but the garage still looked hopeless. We chiseled away at everything, trying to group things together, condense half-empty bins and clean our way through the jungle of spider webs.

Somewhere around 11 o'clock, I went to go put away a pile that had been collecting inside the house. I nearly knocked myself out as I continued to proceed through the door that didn't budge. Haha... surely I was mistaken and didn't turn the handle fully. Try again. Nope, handle is not moving. Door is definitely locked.

"Hey Mom, is the front door open?"

"Nope."

"Hey Mom, do you have a key outside or in your car?"

"Nope."

"Hey Mom, where is your purse?" (Because my mom is famous for leaving her purse, her car keys and anything else a burglar might like in her unlocked vehicle where ever she goes)

"Inside. Why?"

"Oh, because we are locked out."

"WHAT?!?!"

I will kindly shorten what was a three hour long ordeal. We jiggled every lock and window on the house, came to the conclusion that there are no spare keys mysteriously hid anywhere, nor did anyone else possess a spare key, and even employed her criminal-esque neighbor to try to pick the lock. An hour later, and one beat up damaged lock, we conceded and called a locksmith. He was about an hour away but promised he would rush to get to us.

So what else were we to do? We continued to clean and cross our legs in hopes our bladders wouldn't give out. The locksmith arrived another hour later and after about 30 minutes of fiddling with his bag of tricks and $75, he opened the door and let us in.

My mom said it was a small price to pay for a clean garage. She later did not feel so jovial when she found out my sister, who was only about 30 minutes away at the time, did in fact have a key.

We continued our cleaning and de-cluttering regimen. You can't imagine how much stuff this woman had in her garage. From hundreds of dollars worth of Home Interiors items, to Tupperware out the wazoo, to a collection of snowmen that would make the North Pole jealous, to a elephant's weight in magazines. It seemed endless.

But finally, about 8 hours after we began our journey - this was the result....

My mom was able to pull her vehicle in her garage, for the first time EVER, since she's owned it - that has been three years.

As you can still see, the garage is lined with innumerous boxes and shelves of "stuff", but its a world better than what it had been. After two trips to the dump, a massive Goodwill donation, and my van filled to the rim of goodies I wanted - we cleaned and cleared the garage.

I have threaten my mothers life if the garage ever gets to a state of such disarray again.

So Ma, am I still #1?!?!

From Opera to Cowboy Country

2008-10-05T09:07:00.000-04:00

I have always thought I had a very eclectic taste in music. Growing up I listened to everything from rap to country to Disney Soundtracks. Even now, I can listen to just about anything and appreciate it... I mean geez, I fell in love with Neil E. Boyd singing opera for heaven's sake!

I will admit though I was not enthused when my husband told me that his office party was a "western" theme and featured a country band straight from Jackson Hole, Wyoming.

So Saturday night, we headed off to this themed office party decked out in our cowboy hats and boots (yep, broke out the boots for the second weekend in a row). My husband works at a company at the Manassas Airport that specializes in aviation-related things. So the party, like all others we have been to, was in the hanger.

Surrounded by airplanes and helocopters doesn't sound particularly up-scale, but ya'all haven't had the pleasure of going to an OADS event. From the chivari chairs to the burnt orange taffeta table linens to the massive floral arrangements with fresh cranberries to the five star buffet spread to the open bar- it was quite impressive. The Rogers spare no expense when they throw a party!

Throughout or meal, I saw a number of men walking around in cowboy hats and tight wranglers that looked way too comfortable in their attire. Most of the people who dressed up more resembled something fresh out of a costume shop with their boots, lariats and straw hats.

I figured this was the band that was flown in from Wyoming for our evening entertainment. Having lived in Texas for a few years, I was use to this type of cowboy... not a bad sight, although I am concerned for certain parts of their anatomy that are definitely not getting the room to breathe that is necessary.

Promplty at seven - the band came on...... The Bar-J Wranglers

Yee-haw. Are you excited yet? Yeah, me either.

But then they started singing.... and playing every instrument under the sun. Bass, steel guitar, fiddle, harmonica, banjo, acoustic guitar... everything.

They introduced themselves as lovers of "Cowboy Country"... not to be mistaken for contemporary country or bluegrass. Its much farther west than that.... evidently.

I spent the first three songs trying to figure out who was the owner of the deep gravely bass voice. I figured it was the cowboy playing the bass, but then they all started talking and was suprised to find it was the cute little blonde hair guy in the blue shirt. He just didn't seem to belong to a voice like that. Especially with a name like Danny.

Not only could these men sing, and play all sorts of instruments, but they were hilarious. It was like a Cowboy Comedy show too! For two hours they entertained us with songs, and jokes and stories. It made you wish you lived on a working ranch somewhere in Wyoming so that you could sit down with these fellows at night aournd the fire with a can of beans and some coffee and listen to their tales.

My husband and I laughed so hard that our cheeks hurt at the end of the performance. The highlight was one of the brothers, Bryan who was the sarcastic one. His one-liners never let up and he kept everyone in stiches.

It turned out to be a really great night and I left the party a huge fan of Cowboy Country and the Bar J Wranglers. They run a sort of dinner theatre way out yonder in Jackson Hole where they do this show every single night.

Check out their website - http://www.barjchuckwagon.com/

Ken and I are thinking about planning a trip out there. We have a free trip we won from OADS at the first Christmas party we went to... again, the owners are VERY generous.

All in all - we had a great night, sans kids. We go to escape not only from the kids, but from reality for a bit. We kinda felt like we were in another time or place listening to the Bar J Wranglers perform. The highlight of the evening, was ofcourse the proceeding picture...

Because who wouldn't love being the only cowgirl in a mix of six real Western Cowboys???

A Typical Saturday Morning

2008-10-04T11:36:00.006-04:00

7 Am - Ryker didn't get the memo that Mommy had too much wine at Suz's house last night and needs to sleep in.

7:22 Am - Mommy elbows Daddy to alert him to the baby's screams, that are growing more desperate with each passing second.

7:29 Am - Daddy stumbles out of bed and goes to get "his son".

7:30 Am - Daddy returns to the bedroom with whining baby, who is no longer crying, but saying Mama incessantly.

8:10 Am - Mommy finally crawls out of bed after an extensive game of elbow hockey with Ryker - several bruised ribs and a black eye later - she concedes that sleeping in is not going to happen today.

8:14 Am - Ryker throws the bottle of Excedrin that Mommy so desperately needs in the toilet. Mommy's rage and screams finally get Daddy out of bed.

8:20 Am - Kids are eating breakfast, Ryker is smashing banana all over himself and his highchair. Mommy drinks coffee and searches for another bottle of Excedrin.

8:45 Am - Ryker empties out the dog food bowl on the floor, gets his butt smacked and positioned in time out.

9:30 Am - Daddy slinks downstairs, uncertain of the state of mind that Mommy is in this morning. He quietly eats his eggs, knowingly walking on metaphorical egg shells.

10:10 Am - Daddy leaves for Marshall to fix his brakes and rectify the dead sticker he has been riding around with for three weeks.

10:40 Am - Evidently Mommy spends too much time checking email - because this is how Gena and Ryker have been spending the last bit of their morning -

"Lets not tell Daddy about the sparkly skirt and pedicure, Ok Gena?"

"Ryker, please stop twirling. Yes, yes... it is very pretty. Let's go watch some football, son."

WFLS BABY CONTEST - Vote Now, Vote Often!

2008-10-03T23:38:00.004-04:00

This plea goes out to every one -

So I entered my little man Ryker into WFLS baby contest - number one because I think he is just about the cutest thing that walks the earth, and two because there is a helluva price package!

So please please please please.... go to this link, fill in a quick little registration with your email address and vote for Ryker - he is #6 on the website - the little boy in orange with a devilish little grin and some seriously styling spikes! (see above)

You can vote more than once - but only once in a 24 hour period - so if you love me and/or Ryker or just have too much free time at work - vote vote vote EVERYDAY!!

If he makes top 20, I will be harrassing you all again - and if he doesn't, well then I will be busy pouting.

So go to this link ya'all - mama needs a new dining room set!!

http://www.wfls.com/

PASS IT ON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Not Such a Bad Day

2008-10-01T23:37:00.012-04:00

I just wrote a pretty angry blog about the course of my evening.

After writing, I took a moment to reflect.

Good things that happened today:

1. My baby boy is not sick. After a hours of puke and fevers yesterday, I am so thankful today that he is back to his busy little self.

2. I found out that the local FANTASTIC gift shop is hiring for seasonal help and they are interested in me! Yay! Although Ken is concerned that the paycheck won't cover the tab I run up!

3. The kids and I had a fantastic afternoon of playing Hula-Hoop Roll (new game Mommy came up in one of those damn Momiphany moments - clarity and creativity are hard to supress - this time it turned out ok)

4. One of the two families of deer graced us with their presence in our backyard this afternoon.

5. While making dinner, I spotted a double rainbow outside the window. Later I found out that Ken saw the other half of those same rainbows across town on his way home.

6. My hubby surprised me with a "Just Because... " card - which reminds me I should probably forgive and forget tonights TV mishaps.

7. My baby boy is not sick :) He gave us smiles and cuddles tonight before bed.

8. I am happy, healthy and blessed. I have four remarkable children sound asleep upstairs in their beds, a wonderful husband probably worrying about Fantasy Football stats in the living room, and a dog that needs to go out from the smell of her rear.

What more could a Mother of Mayhem ask for?

TiVo Time Out

2008-10-01T22:40:00.006-04:00

I have been watching the show for weeks.

Wading through all the mindless, talentless fools they parade across the stage next to their equally mindless, talentless fool host Jerry Springer.

I have vowed to boycott the show if my favorite didn't win, and up until this night, I have not had to take such drastic measures.

Tonight was the FINALE of America's Got Talent...

And talent it does have... in the name of my boy... My Neil E. Boyd!

Can you see me doing my little happy dance?

I just love this guy. There is something about his sincerity. I wanna be his friend. I wanna give him a big hug and make him sing for me. Nothing romantic about it - I have my own big boy... but I think Neil and I are soul mates - we have a real connection. In fact, I think he might be searching my blog right now.

The tension and dramatic effect was high for the season finale... the producers had us on the edge of our seats. They cast off the bottom three.. and then there were two.

Eli Mattson and Neil E. Boyd stood on the stage together... cue the smoke and dim the lights...

Jerry Springer - "And this years winner of America's Got Talent is.... " (insert game show music here and a very long agonizing pause... )

You are waiting with baited breath, right?!?

Yeah, so was I... sitting on the edge of my seat with my fingers in my mouth nearly biting my nails off. My mind flashed back through all of Neil's incredible performances. I thought, how could America be so cruel, to bring my sweet teddy bear so close, only to take it all away... it wasn't possible...

I gritted my teeth and prepared myself for the outcome.. and then...

FLIP

The friggin TiVo gets a mind of its own and flips to FX.

And I lose my mind. Now I will admit in hindsight, I may have possibly overreacted just a scoutch... but I thought my husband was screwing with me. So I practically propelled myself into his lap mid-scream...

"Its not f*cking funny Ken!" - (note I never call him by his name unless I am really pissed - its always baby or Kenny)

Ken, trying to speak through his laughter- "I didn't do anything - it flipped over to record Sons of Anarchy" ... which is by the way- quite possibly the most pointless show on FX these days, I can't stand it - even if Peg Bundy does play a great part as one shady bitch.

And I knew in that moment of TiVo relapse, I had missed my moment... er Neil's moment, or maybe Eli's... I didn't know.

And I did it.

I stomped my feet.

Crossed my arms.

And threw the best 27 year old hissy fit I could muster.

I mean afterall, I had logged alot of man hours into this show. And I missed the big moment, whether it was Neil or not.

The hubs, still in shock from my fit, flipped it back just in time for me to see the confetti falling down on Neil.

He won. Yippee. Hoo-rah.

The moment was gone. And I still had my arms crossed. I pouted for the rest of the show, and only Neil's final note of Nessun Dorma could crack my stone face.

At least my guy won.

"Ken" on the other hand is still being punished for finding my fit and the TiVo mishap so friggin hilarious. And as for TiVo - you're in time out too.

Margaritas and Martina

2008-09-28T14:04:00.011-04:00

A few weeks ago, "The Tracy" invited me to go see Martina McBride at "The Pavilions"... an evening no kids and adult conversation?!?! Heck yeah, sign me up!

So last night Trace and I braved the monsoons and headed out for the night. We met at El Agave in Warrenton, and can I just recommend to stay away from the Salad Soup... or Taco Salad as they like to call it. Our salads were lacking a key ingredient.... UHHH SALAD! But it didn't damper our spirits any - we just filled up on margaritas and headed on our way!

As we were leaving Warrenton the skies were lighting up and the thunder was definitely rolling. But we were determined, come hell or high water... we were not turning back! We made it to the Pavilion and the skies were still holding back.

Trace parked us in some far off field and we started our journey. Now keep in mind, when getting dressed for the event earlier that evening, I picked high-heeled boots over my much more comfortable and practical Mommy flats... Why do you ask? Well because Trace is always in cute boots and I wanted to look the part. I mean damn, I hadn't been on a date in I don't know how long and I thought my boots would get me a little booty!! :) So there I am, stumbling over the gravel in my boots up to the Pavilion.

Our first stop, security... they thumb through our bags and we sneak by with my smuggled camera. Second stop - MORE MARGARITAS. We order these fantastic, ridiculously tall swirled strawberry margaritas. The souveneir cup kinda resembles something between a bong and a penis. Again, doesn't slow us down a bit!

We get to our seats - thank the Lord and the rolling skies above - they are under the Pavilion. The stage is decked out with a big Jason Michael Carroll banner - who da hell? Neither of us know who he is, but we sit back and enjoy the show... And then Jason comes out on stage... hmm... not too bad to look at. Then he opens his mouth and this deep rumble of a voice comes out and...oh my my my my my. JMC is my new favorite country singer.

If you are like Trace and I and have no clue who he is, he sings "Alyssa Lies", "Living Our Love Song", and "I Can Sleep When I'm Dead". If that doesn't ring any bells - check out his web page... www.jasonmichaelcarroll.com

Tracy had an issue because he was wearing entirely too much jewelry... I really didn't care if he was in a tutu - man could sing and was cute as a button with his little soul patch on his chin!

About midway through Jasons set the God's let loose and the monsoon is upon us. Luckily Tracy and I are snug and dry as can be in our little Pavilion seats - the lawn seat ticket holders, not so much. The fools were mudsliding and dancing in the rain. I can't think of a single act (not even JMC) that would keep my ass sitting outside in a torrential downpour! It rained for well over an hour, and those crazy ass people still sat through it. I was miffed at the mist blowing in from outside that was frizzing my hair. I am definitely not designed for the elements!

So out next is Jack Ingram - again, who? Tracy and I decided next concert we should really do our homework. A few of his songs sounded remotely familiar, but we had a hard time paying attention because he talked so damned much. Ten minutes into his set we started calling him preacher man, because he never stopped running his mouth. His ramblings were incoherent and we quickly came to the conclusion that preacher man had fallen off the wagon and was most definitely sloshed. His only saving grace was his rendition of "Lips of an Angel", although the Hinder version is MUCH MUCH better!

We didn't think the man would ever shut up - between his babbling and his sales pitch trying to sell "Jack Packs" to the whole crowd and promoting his every appearance in the next 10 years... it went on and on and on.

Finally... FINALLY... it was time for the woman we all came to see. Martina hit the stage and she was SENSATIONAL! That girl can blow... she can hit the notes and hold them into next week.

Her performance of the night was "Broken Wing"- it was UNREAL! I think she still may be singing that last note!

Martina's songs are so powerful and positive. She really shut it down! (oh BTW - I am quoting my new Bravo television addiction, The Rachel Zoe Project)

Concert over - Trace and I made the trip back to the car and I stumbled along the way - not sure if it was from the jumbo Margarita, the gravel or the fact that my feet were hurting so damn bad from my cute boots... We made it out of the parking lot in RECORD time and Tracy almost got me home for my 11:22 curfew :)

So ladies night out was a definite success - we are planning the next one already!

Mom Of The Year

2008-09-26T17:02:00.001-04:00

Ok - this goes out to those who are responsible for nominating Mom of The Year awards...

I DON'T WANT IT!

I have decided that I am not going to go for the title this year, and probably not next year either.

I had a moment Wednesday night - I will call these moments of "mom clarity" a Momiphany (this word will later be copywrited, so don't try to snatch it) It is something like an epiphany but occurs to moms in the midst of all the mayhem - when you have a brilliant idea that is sure to put a smile on your little one's faces.

It had been a very busy and rushed week - I had been stuffing pop tarts and cereal down my girls throats in the last few moments before they had to run out to catch the bus. (No, my kids don't get bacon and eggs and pancakes for breakfast... are you kidding me? They get up at 6:30, bus at 7:15 and somewhere in that time frame I have to drag my self out of bed and attempt to become human so I don't frighten them.)

So I decided I would surprise them with a Micky D's breakfast (yes, again, another breakfast of champions) I told them Wednesday night that they had to be downstairs, ready and waiting no later than 7am - all slackers would be left behind.

Sure enough they meet their goal and I even manage to make it downstairs with a smile on my face. They just think they are getting a ride to school, and Skylar pipes in as we are loading up, "Mom, what about breakfast." Poor thing.

So we are heading down the road... and I am at the light ready to turn onto Main Street when a cop pulls up behind me and turns on his lights.

Shit. Yeah, I said it - out loud and everything.

I had no where to go because I was in the turn lane, so I just sit there... kinda like a sitting duck. The girls are giggling and a quick death glare in the rear view quiets them down. The cop gets out of the car and I roll down my window -

Cop - "Ma'am, do you see I have my lights on? You need to pull over."
Me - "I'm sorry, I knew you were there, but I didn't know where to go."
Cop - "When the light changes, pull up in that parking light"

So the light changes and I pull up into the parking lot (Where the bail bondsman is, no less).

Long story short - Sperryville Pike goes from 45, to 35, to 25 MPH and he caught me right past the 25MPH sign going a whopping 37MPH. I claimed stupidity, that I had no clue it changed there and I thought the whole stretch was 35. (In all actuality, I thought the whole stretch was 45 and its a miracle he didn't clock me going at least 55!)

He lets me off with a warning, but not without a citation for not wearing my seatbelt. And to add salt to the wound, the girls proceed to tell me how a seatbelt could save my life. Another death glare shuts them up.

We get to McD's and I am so frazzled and annoyed at this point, my patience and desire to do something nice for someone else is completely gone.

The kids eat breakfast - all the while bitching about their food (shit, its McDonalds, not breakfast at the Ritz). Gena graciously dumps her drink in her lap, so I rush all the kids out so we have time to go back home for a change of clothes.

And not one of them... not a single solitary one of the three that should definitely know better says thank you.

So - My Momiphanys have been permanently stifled and I am giving up my running for Mom of the Year.

Here brat, have another pop tart.

Pics of the Simpson Gang

2008-09-19T16:46:00.005-04:00

Marshall Mafia Strikes Again

2008-09-15T11:02:00.012-04:00

"Once in the family, you stay in the family...."

And boy am I happy I am still an upstanding member.

Before I moved to Culpeper, I was in deep. I handled the books for "the family", so I played a vital role in our affairs.

The family being the Claude Thompson PTO and the books being treasurer duties.

From the first moment that I heard Susan McCorkindale's Jersey accent, I knew that the PTO was going to get a whole new name!

Let me introduce you to the crew :

First there is our PTO's Prez - Susan McCorkindale - self-proclaimed shop-aholic and the most talented author out there!!

*** Check out and preorder her book on www.amazon.com - Confessions of a Counterfeit Farm Girl

She called me just before school was letting out two years ago to let me know she was taken over the Presidents position and to invite me for a quick, informal meeting at her house. I had to wipe the phone down after I hung up because it was oozing energy and enthusiasm.

Suz is one of those people you just can't describe, or replace. You have to "experience" her. She is this tiny little platinum blond ball of fire that literally bounces when she talks. She certainly doesn't blend in with the crowd, so between her fashion sense and bigger than life Fran Drescher voice, you can't miss her! And who would want to??

She has sent me weekly messages since my move to Culpeper... "Please come back". If I ever mysteriously disappear, you will know where to find me. Held captive somewhere on Suz's cattle farm, plugging away at the family's books.

Then there is our VP Wendy. She lured me into the PTO a few years back when she was the President and I immediately fell in love with her witty and dry sense of humor. She is one of those super creative, super talented and overall supermom types... BARF - overachiever :) I was so impressed with her cool, calm demeanor at the first few PTO meetings and knew that we would be friends for a long time to come.

Next we have "The Tracy"... who lives in "The Marshalls" and shops at "The Blooms". Tracy has been in the Simpson circle since I started coming around, so I have known her for a while. At family reunions and company BBQ's I remembered her for her big mouth... and I love her for it still! She is one of those fantastic people you just love being around because you can be loud and silly... because the louder you get, the louder she gets. This girl busts ass for the PTO and can pull off some amazing things in no time at all. You give her a task, and consider it done.

Then we have the newest member to the family - Christen. I met Christen a while back when our girls were in classes together and did cheerleading. Christen is the long lost sister I never knew I had. We are so much alike as far as sense of humor and parenting, it is scary. Our youngest daughters are the best of friends and we basically use them as an excuse to get together. I talked Christen into joining the PTO last year... as my kinda parting gift when I announced I was moving to Culpeper.

"Hey ladies... I'm leaving, but in my absence, please take my friend Christen as a consolation prize... " haha, she is definitely a prize! (and who knew I was a PTO pimp?!?!)

Then there is Terri - TP as I so lovingly refer to her as. Although she was absent from the dinner party, I still love her. I don't think she has forgiven me yet for leaving the family, and she denied me her presence as punishment. Terri is absolutely hilarious... I don't know where she comes up with some of the stuff she says, but she should be on a stage doing stand up somewhere. My fondest memory of Terri would be an evening at Suz's house, after too much J Lohr... and somewhere, somehow, she stuck her tongue in Suz's ear... ok, so not really, but her claim to was funny as hell!

So its quite a crew that we have running the Claude Thompson PTO - we were so tight knit and with our head Gambino straight from Jersey, my husband started lovingly referring to us as the Marshall Mafia...

And it stuck... so much in fact we have shirts made - all blinged out in brown and pink.

So my girls came up Friday night to see the new digs and catch up...

My girl Tracy brought me some gorgeous flowers and Suz an adorable mum... and all came in tow with quite a few bottles of wine!

So on the menu for the evening:

Spinach Dip and Homemade Pita Chips
Baked Brie
Romaine Salad with Avocado Dressing
Spinach Artichoke Lasagna
Cheesy Onion Bread
and
Cappuccino Mousse Trifle

I gave the girls the grand tour and we popped open some bottles of wine to start our evening. Suz had a little mishap with the corkscrew and Wendy got to chew her red wine for the rest of the evening thanks to the tasty bits of cork floating in it. Suz has been officially stripped of her de-corking duties indefinitely.

My husband, being the creator of the "Mafia" brand, was invited to stay and actually eat the dinner her had been smelling since earlier that morning.

So the ladies tell me the food was great... they are either fantastic liars or I have miraculously gained culinary skills overnight.

We drank, we chatted, we reminisced. It was just like old times. After all our bellies were full of dinner and wine, we decided to top it off with dessert (with more alcohol in the form of Bailey's, of course)

It was such a great night and it made me miss my girls so much! We use to do this monthly, sometimes more. I think we all secretly used PTO affairs as an excuse to get away and get together and drink and eat way too much.

My fantastic hubs even cleaned up the dishes as we all tried to wind down and sober up. Christen had to cut out early because she was on call and we enjoyed an hour or so of talking about her. I heard later that evening her ears spontaneously caught on fire... you are in our thoughts Christen :) Those bandages are great for the dating scene!!

Here is most of our gorgeous gang Friday night....

So I may no longer be a member of the Claude Thompson PTO... I may no longer live in Fauquier County, but I am still most certainly part of the family. Friends like these you just can't get rid of!!

Here are the recipe links...because you all know I didn't come up with that stuff on my own -

http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Artichoke-Spinach-Lasagna/Detail.aspx?prop31=2

http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Cappuccino-Mousse-Trifle/Detail.aspx?prop31=1
(Don't forget to sub 1/2 cup of milk for 1/2 cup of Baileys... or more if you're a lush like the Mafia girls!)

From Squad Car to School Bus

2008-09-05T10:31:00.021-04:00

This week has been a very exciting T.V. week for the Simpson House. Our TiVo has been worked to the max and it has taken very creative timing and planning to make sure everything gets recorded...

Tuesday night Ken was scrambling to get the four conflicting showtimes all worked out so that we could watch AND record... (and yes, I have come to the conclusion that I watch entirely too much T.V.)

Two much awaited premiers and some old favorites caused all the conflict Tuesday night. We have been following America's Got Talent for the last couple of weeks and I am rooting for my tubby and lovable favorite, Neil E. Boyd. Man, this guy has got my heart and brings me to tears every time he performs!!!!!

If you haven't had the pleasure, check out this You Tube clip - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E8BD2HSzxr8 - be sure to have the tissues handy if you do though!

Up to this point, Neil has remained a strong contender - and I have made a solid commitment to boycott the show if he is ever voted off!

The next show I am a little ashamed to admit I am watching.. The Secret Life of An American Teenager seems like an after-school special gone bad. I love this show although it scares the hell out of me. I can't imagine that my three girls are only a few years off from some of the characters on this drama. And if this is a true portrayal of typical teenagers, I am running out and buying the chastity belts, birth control and shot gun right now! But I can't help but watch it, and cringe through the whole thing. I am also carefully shielding my kids from the show in fear that the sight of a pregnant teenager might lead me to the same fate as Molly Ringwald.

I was originally drawn to it because Molly Ringwald plays the mother to the poor teen that gets "knocked up" at the age of 15. I love Molly and its funny to see one of the Brat Pack play Mommy! She is still cute as hell! The storyline of this show definitely works, scary as it may be! And its not too far off from the For Keeps movie Molly starred in 20 years ago!

Previews of the final season of The Shield having been teasing and taunting my husband and I for months. This year the show is a bit of a bitter pill, as it is definitely a favorite, but we know it is all going to come to and end in a few short months. The Simpson house without Vick Mackey will just not be the same. Everybody needs a little grit in their life and this show certainly offers buckets full of it!

You know when the show kicks off and this symbol appears :

Followed by L, S, V - for language, sexual content and violence.... its gonna be a good night! The FX network and its shows certainly push the envelope for cable TV and I have to admit, I LOVE IT! It is my guilty pleasure!

Michael Chiklis went from playing the lovable Tony Scali in The Commish to a hard-core, hard-ass, ball-bearing BAD COP in The Shield. Vic Mackey and his Strike Team will stop at nothing to get he job done on the tough Farmington, CA streets! The characters in this show are so strong and so addictive you can not pry yourself away!

Finally, the fourth show is the kicker. I had been humming the theme song all day long. It was a reawakening of an era that I grew up with. It was a second family that I had become a part of... A zip code where I knew I belonged...

IT'S BACK!!!!!!

Go on now, I know you wanna hum the theme song too.. its ok, I promise I won't tell. Just do it quietly so the people in the next cubical don't find out your secret.

I have been biding the last couple of years of the 90210 hiatus with made-for-TV movies starring my former Beverly Hills buddies and more recently, my addiction to Tori and Dean - Inn Love and Home Sweet Hollywood.

So when I got wind that the gang was coming back, I was MORE than excited. Unfortunately, only a select few of the gang has returned and it is an entirely new cast of Beverly Hill Brats. The two-hour premier was entertaining, although I found myself twiddling my thumbs a bit and anxiously awaiting the next glimpse of Jenni Garth or my fave - Shannen Doherty.

I guess I am holding on to the past a bit... I mean the kids couldn't stay in school FOREVER. But oh how I miss those high-waisted jean and big hair days of my old 90210.

I had to attend a PTO meeting at our new school Tuesday evening... and I had a hard time staying focused on budgets and committees. I knew there was a plethora of television for me to enjoy that evening.

So after all the kiddies were bathed and put to bed, Ken and I began our race to play catch-up with the TiVo.

We started our marathon a little after 9pm. First we blew through America's Got Talent just in time to catch The Shield and watch it live (although I'm not a big fan of live T.V. these days - who has time for commercials?!?)

The Hubs is not into The Secret Life... (maybe because he has three daughters) so that was skipped all together to be enjoyed by me during naptime on Wednesday.

Then we went from the back of the squad car to the front of the school bus and I had to keep from jumping out of my seat as the intro theme song began for 90210.

It was a whirlwind television evening, and we didn't make it to bed until almost 1am. And although I was cursing the alarm clock the next morning, it was certainly worth it.

So to all friends out there... Tuesdays is definitely T.V. night. Please take into consideration and avoid all unnecessary phone calls and interruptions... because we will be GLUED to the T.V.!

*Gotta give credit where credit is due - Ken came up with the title, good job Honey!

Dad By Any Other Name

2008-08-28T21:24:00.012-04:00

I had only known my husband for about a month when he took me on a ski trip to Bryce, VA. I was all excited about getting to go on a romantic vacation with my new boyfriend... until I found out it was a yearly Simpson-family event and I would be meeting his ENTIRE family over the course of the weekend. Needless to say, I was a little nervous.

It lasted all of about 5 minutes. I met his Dad first. Clyde Raymond Simpson. That's him.

Some people call him Clyde, most of his family calls him Raymond and many others know him as C.R. Any combination suits him fine.

C.R. greeted me with a big smile as Ken introduced us. I remember him making some quick-witted comment, probably teasing Ken about the age difference between us. He immediately made me feel comfortable though, like I had known him for years.

Over the last four plus years, that feeling has never changed.

I lost my Dad in 2004. Ken and I were on vacation in FL at C.R.'s and Bernice's (his wife) house when I found out the news. They immediately got a flight for me to get home and then C.R. drove with Ken back to VA in time for the funeral. He was so wonderful and gracious to my family in such a difficult time, and he barely even knew us.

That was the first of many times he has touched me. C.R. has become the Dad that I so dearly miss. He has also become the grandfather that my daughter lost. He is an amazing "Gramps". He takes all the girls to Florida every summer for a week or more and they go from one amusement park to another in a whirlwind of fun! He accepted Gena as his own grand-daughter from the very beginning and she adores him. He was so excited to find out he was having another grandson and has done nothing but adore Ryker ever since he came.

Today my husband and I attended a funeral for his uncle, Ira. C.R. is one of 14 children in his family, and now only six remain. I have unfortunately attended three funerals in four years for his siblings.

C.R. had made a "brother's promise" to Ira to deliver his eulogy at his service.

He started by saying that he wasn't a speaker by any means, and he was "nervous and scared", but he would do the best he could.

And that he did.

I had only met Ira a handful of times, and unfortunately after he had a stroke, so he was not the man he once was. I had little connection to the service or the man they were honoring. But the man delivering the eulogy brought me to tears on more than one occasion.

I have always said that I fell in love with my husband because he is the most genuine person I have ever met. He certainly gets it honest.

The love of a brother was so thick in the air as C.R. delivered his speech I had a hard time catching my breath. He fondly remembered times before Ira had his stroke and told stories of their childhood. He played some of Ira's favorite songs and quietly lip-sang them in remembrance.

He was calm and collected, but you knew inside he was shaking like a leaf. I was brought back to my Dad's funeral when I was physically shaking and how impossible the task of speaking was to me.

I was so proud of C.R. I was so proud to be a part of this Simpson family. I was so moved by his love and his dedication to his family.

There are times when I want to go to C.R. and hug him so tightly that I steal his breath away and tell him how much I love him and how dear he is to me. I always hold back though because I know he is not use to that kind of affection. So instead I will just write about it, because he probably will never see this.

So C.R., I have always been too scared to call you Dad... but that is exactly what you are to me. You are a pillar of strength to a family that loves you so deeply. You are my father, not by marriage, but by love.

I am so thankful to be a Simpson.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In Loving Memory of Ira Maynard Simpson

11/21/1924 - 08/22/2008

Tis the Season for Consignment...

2008-08-24T22:33:00.027-04:00

Today was the day. I had it marked on my calendar for over two months. No, it wasn't the release of the newest movie. No, it wasn't some amazing concert coming to town.

It was the WEE-CYCLED WARDROBE CONSIGNMENT SALE - consignor's shopping day!

What?!!? You haven't heard? You didn't know it was the biggest shopping day of the year? Pish-posh on Black Friday! Today was Shopper's Sunday!!

Well only if you are a consign-freak like my sister and I. That is why we are all smiles!

Let me introduce you to the wonderful world of consignment...

Ever since I was younger, I loved to shop. My mom's manic moments allowed for numerous get-out-of-school free shopping days, which were absolutely fantastic as a teenager! The fury and fever to shop has never left my core and it was only magnified when I started popping out kids.

Before Genavieve was born, she had a closet full of little pink and purple dresses and hats. And we aren't talking your typical after-baby-shower stash. We are talking about filling up an ENTIRE closet of miniature little outfits, most of which she probably never even wore.

As she grew older, I reveled in her fashion sense and it fed my addiction even more. One of my proudest Mommy Moments was when my two year old daughter refused to leave the house because she couldn't find a hair bow to match her outfit. I had to fight back the tears of pride! My little fashion diva.

I was a single Mommy in those days. And I certainly was in no position to go out and shop willy-nilly (and yes, that is a very technical term) at department stores to dress my little fashionista. I had to get creative.

That is when I discovered thrift stores... I would case them out on my lunch hour. Thumbing through racks of clothes to find just the perfect thing that some other Mommy was crazy enough to get rid of.

You wouldn't believe some of the treasures I found. But it was a lot of work! That is when I discovered the consignments sales.

Did you know there is a place where you can buy Children's Place, Gymboree, Carter's and all the other fabulous name-brand clothes for less than half price? A consignment sale usually runs anywhere from a couple of days to three weeks. Mommies take their children's outgrown clothing and "consigns" it at the sale. It is like a giant yard sale, but instead of having to weed through all the junk most people sell, it is strictly clothing and other children-related items.

Before my son was born, he had two seasons worth of clothes ready and waiting for him. I kid you not, 80% of my kids wardrobe comes from consignment sales.

The first time I walked into the Wee-cycled Wardrobe consignment sale in Fredericksburg, it was like an oasis. I think I heard angels singing as I walked through the doors and was faced with rack upon rack of kids clothes.

I have not turned back since. I hit every local consignment sale in the area and I am on every consignor's mailing list there is. This is the season for consignment. Most sales only run twice a year, once in the spring and once in the fall. Fall and back-to-school season is upon us.

For the last two years, not only do I shop, but I am a consignor. I go through all of my kids clothes and sell them (mostly to pay my tab for shopping). So being a consignor gives you special rights and privileges. You get to shop an entire day before the public is invited.

Laugh now, but you can't begin to imagine how important it is to get into the sale early. You might just miss the perfect outfit if you don't get there first. So that is where my sister and I find ourselves. Waiting in line, with our laundry baskets in hand, ready to be filled.

The line this year curved around the building. Anxious mommies awaited the seasons best find. My sister and I were prepared this year. We had plans to tag-team and had our route all mapped out. We even somehow managed to be kid-less this year... a first for both of us! You just can't concentrate while a kid is screaming in the stroller.

** Bonus points to the hubby for staying home with the terradactyl and girls all day!

Promptly at 3:00 they opened the doors for shoppers, with strict instructions to shop calmly. Yes, these people have to be warned, because things can get out of hand!

Again, cue the angels. Here is the sale this year.

The sale is held at the Field House in Fredericksburg, so it literally was a football field of stuff - a consign-a-holics dream. Over 33,000 items, ranging from clothes, to shoes, to toys, to every baby amenity you could imagine.

Quick thinking allowed me to snatch a cart from the Field House concession stand before anyone noticed. This apparatus proved to be critical in the game plan and many-a fellow consignor oohed and ahhed at our towering cart as the day went on.

They were jealous.

Back up Barbie, my cart!

So we hit the big item section first, as my sister Kim was after a bike for her daughter.

DAAAAAAAAAAAAAMN!

No such luck, a lady before us snatched the said bike up before we got to it. My sister debated following her around for a bit to see if she left it unattended, but quickly decided against the unconsignor-like conduct.

To the shoes... there is a whole method to the madness. Shoes go quickly, especially the ones that don't look like they've gone through a mud puddle and back.

SUCCESS! I snagged at least five pairs of shoes for various kids, some brand new. Kim got quite a few as well. After looking at shoes, Kim begins to wander over to the toy section.... not the next step in our game-plan, but I allow it.

The cart is already getting full, and we haven't even gotten to clothes yet. We have to constantly reposition stuff as to not lose any of our valuable loot.

Lots of ladies are walking around with some of Kim's custom wipe cases... aren't they cute?!?! Check out www.diapersanddenim.com for other adorable creations! (shameless plug!)

Finally it is to the clothes. We start out in 3T Girls, and tag team the search. I take top racks and she takes bottom racks, looking for only the cutest things for her daughter Brylee. After about 20 outfits are piled onto the cart, we move onto 18 Months boys and use the same method.

Tag Team Shopping At Its Best!

In the midst of our frenzied search, a little girl snatches a Dora doll off our cart while her mother wasn't paying attention. Damn Moms bringing their kids - amateurs! Taking another shoppers item is something you just don't do in this shopping world! Four year old or not - give back my Dora Brat! (ok, so I didn't really say that, but the little girl did cry when her Mom returned it to our cart!)

Then there is another woman that is causing quite a ruckus on the toddler aisle. We will call her Hoarder Whore for her privacy... she had pile upon pile of clothes laid out all over the floor making it difficult for anyone to get around her. She was one of "those"... that pulled stuff off the rack, with no intention of buying it all, just piling it up to go through later. These types aren't looked upon too kindly, you take what you want and leave the rest on the rack.

My sister stalked Hoarder Whore for a long time, waiting for her to return her 3T leftovers to the rack. She was like a Mama tiger stalking prey for her young... but instead of antelope it was an orange and brown Gymboree outfit.

As we moved through the various sizes, our cart reached a ridiculous height. We were, after all shopping for the SEVEN children we had between us.

Here is the result of our frenzied shopping...

We arrived at the sale at 2:30... we left at 6:40. We were one of the last five shoppers out of the door. I won the grand prize for the day because I didn't spend as much... but the check I got from sales barely covered my tab. At least I broke even.

After an exhausting day, I brought my stash home to a bunch of ungrateful kids, that had no idea of the drama I had to go through to get those cute Abercrombie jeans!

The next sale is in a couple weeks... and then I have to wait until next season. I bide the time by still occasionally searching local thrift stores. My kid's closets are constantly growing and my addiction takes on a life of its own.

I think every kid needs at least 15 pairs of jeans and every toddler needs at least 6 pairs of tennis shoes.

Doesn't everyone?

One Down, Thirteen To Go...

2008-08-17T23:52:00.008-04:00

This weekend I decided that I would paint. Now lets keep in mind the last time I attempted to paint a room (bathroom exactly) in my old house, I gave up about 15 minutes into it and my husband got the pleasure of finishing the chore.

When I mentioned to him yesterday that I wanted to paint yet again... another bathroom, he was less than enthused. He moaned and groaned and asked why did I want to paint all of a sudden.

Well it certainly wasn't a "sudden decision". Ever since we moved into this stark white walled, white carpeted, picture-less house three months ago I have been dying to paint. Well dying to pay someone to paint, actually. Not so keen on the process myself.

But with our situation as it is now, we just can't throw out a couple grand to have the whole thing painted all at once... so I thought it would be a good idea to start it myself.

And since I lack the ability or patience for this task, I decided to start small.... very small. I picked the smallest little nook in our house. The 5x5 guest bathroom may not seem like much of a challenge to your average Suzy Homeowner... but to me it might have well been Texas.

So this morning I drug the crew out to Lowes to pick paint colors and get supplies. I had wisely prepped with miles of blue tape the night before, so I was all ready to go. We decided on a color, to which I think my husband agreed upon just to get out of the damn store, and went about our merry way.

At home, I insisted that my husband had to take the tank off the toilet so I could paint behind it. He thought I could just throw a few splashes where you could see and it would be fine. I won and the tank came off.

*side note - There are great domestic benefits to having a blog, as I have found out today. Because when we were discussing the tank removal, he finally conceded stating that he better or else I'll write something nasty on my blog. I am overcome with POWER right now!!!

So my wonderful Hubby and I proceed to paint our little bathroom (Ryker blessed us with an unorthodoxed two hour nap so we can complete our task).

I am so pleased and so proud of my accomplishment. Not once did I curse or throw a paintbrush or give up and make my husband finish the job!

After the painting was all done, it was time to put the joint back in order. I replaced all the receptacles, towel bars, and mirror and my husband had the joy of putting the tank back onto its rightful home.

Can I just say that the only talent my husband has as a plumber is the infamous crack??!??

Bless his little non-plumbing heart (and ass), after several attempts and a couple rolls of paper towels, he got the tank back on, leak free. It was quite a "calamity" as he put it... hitting his head on the commode a time or two and getting a massive leg cramp in the process.

I even managed to convince the poor man to hang up some pictures for me... this is a task he GREATLY despises because I am never satisfied. Not to mention it was almost 11 o'clock when I finally convinced him!

Much to both of our surprise, I was 100% happy with how the whole project turned out!

Here are some pictures of our finished result.

It is very difficult to get a picture seeing as the bathroom is so small!

So today the guest bathroom...... TOMORROW THE WORLD! Or maybe another bathroom... who knows, only 13 more rooms to go!

Clean Up on Aisle 4 - Who's Department Is That?

2008-08-16T20:43:00.001-04:00

The other day my husband and I were debating back and forth who should make calls to verify references on a rental house we have. The word "department" got thrown around a couple of times... mostly by me of course.

I thought that this task was Ken's "department" because he had shown the house and met the potential rentals. He thought it was my "department" because I have more freedom to make phone calls throughout the day.

Evidently he has some obnoxious responsibilities throughout the day called work that prohibit him from making personal (although it is a personal business matter) phone calls.

I say hogwash... isn't that what his lunch hour is for? Much to my dismay, he didn't agree and I ended up making the phone calls. Although I firmly believe that these phone calls were certainly not in my "department".

Ken seems to think that we don't have "departments" and we share the load equally....

... excuse me a moment while I regain my control after my uncontrollable fit of laughter...

Now, I am not saying I do everything... (because I know he reads this blog and that would get me in big trouble)... but I am not sure that our work load is equal.

He does earn the living, provides a roof over our head and food in our bellies. He definitely pays all the bills and is much more of a stern disciplinarian than I will ever be. He does play his role there. And these obvious necessities carry much more weight and importance than laundry duty and loading the dishwasher.

But lets face it ladies... I am the domestic goddess (DG). My "departments" are too numerous to list individually. I run this joint that Mr. Bring Home the Bacon pays for.

Kids... my DEPARTMENT- to insure that they are fed, clean, not killing each other.. as well as all their activities and school dealings... that Department encompasses most of my day.

Household Chores... Got it covered... I don't think my husband has done a load of laundry (not that I would let him for fear he might wash my white bras with his denim jeans), vacuumed a square inch, cooked a meal or fed the dog in months. He lives with the luxury that this DG has it all handled.

Finances... yup, handle this too... although I am quite thankful for this responsibility because if he saw the number of Target, Kohl's or Walmart debits on our account I might have to find another household to rule.

So obviously I accepted the role that I played by making the decision to be a stay-at-home mom. But I am certainly not eating bon-bons and watching soaps all day... it takes work and energy and creativity to keep a big house and big family running smoothly...

Now added to my to do list is interviewing references... have I mentioned I don't like calling to order pizza? Ever since I was little I hated talking on the phone! And he knows this and is equally uncomfortable with the task. This is why he puts it on me... he knows I'll cave. I don't have a leg to stand on. What excuse can I use to not make some calls? I'm too busy vacuuming? Baking cookies? Watching Tori and Dean, Home Sweet Hollywood? (this one is the most likely!)

Am I wrong to think he should handle this? Am I wrong to claim that we do have "departments" and they work does not seem to be shared equally?

Well, in the end I did make the phone calls. And in the last few days have thrown in the snide remark, "I guess I'll do it... it is my department after all."

.... have to run, diaper duty is calling now... and that is DEFINITELY my department!

The Trolley Takes a Toll

2008-08-12T19:46:00.000-04:00

So this weekend I had the brilliant idea to let the kids experience a piece of Culpeper culture. I had to get them out of the house, since as punishment for leaving lights on, my husband took away all electricity for a day. (Who was he punishing, I ask you?!?)

Since there is not a whole lot to offer here besides the new Kohl's or Target (more my speed), I figured it would be fun to take a trolley ride. We see these big London-esque green and red trolleys all over town and the girls thought it would be a great idea. Notice I just said the girls.

I should have taken the hint when we got to the visitors center and the only trolley schedule I could find was in Spanish. The lady at the desk was not much help, stating sometimes they were on time, sometimes not... she didn't pay attention. We had just missed one as we pulled up so I figured we had a few minutes to spare until the next.

We walked up the street to my favorite local bakery, Knackels, because I knew I would need some chocolate to survive this fantastic idea. I let the girls pick out some brownies and got myself a chocolaty-gooey and oh-so-unnecessary 1/2 lb eclair. This would definitely make the trip worthwhile.

So we walk back to the station and sit down to enjoy our snack... and the trolley pulls up. So I throw everything into the diaper bag and load up the kids. We sit down and Ryker immediately starts squealing (not in delight mind you). The driver makes some kind of comment about screaming kids and I asked her if we should get off now (because obviously she hasn't been introduced to the terradactyl we all know and love as Ryker).

His screaming doesn't stop, no matter how many birdies or cars or anything I point out... no goldfish or juice or yogurt covered raisin will do... so I break out the big guns.

"Wanna bite of Mommy's chocolate?"

And so was the end of my eclair.... it smelled good at least. And it kept him quiet for the twenty minutes it took to get to Walmart.

Yep... that was our big ride. We got off at the stop in front of Walmart and walked over to Burger King for lunch. I sat on pins and needles the whole time in fear I would miss the trolley ride back... its an odd feeling being stranded and depending on public transportation. I realize how spoiled I am when we got back to the bus stop and a lady and her three kids were waiting with their dozen or so bags of groceries for the trolley. I couldn't imagine making this a daily occurrence.

So far so good, right? The girls are having a blast, got to eat junk for lunch and are now playing the guessing game of when the trolley will come. Twenty minutes after its scheduled arrival, the trolley finally shows up and I load my gang onto the bus and we are forced to head to the back because it is much fuller than when we got on before.

I go to pay the 50 cents a person I paid when I got on before and the lady tells me kids are free... would have been nice if the previous driver shared that tidbit.
*the driver would later regret turning down my extra money and consider charging me double!

Kayla and I share a seat with Ryker... and as we pull off, whatever switch he has in his little head that turns him from Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde was activated.

The boy simply loses it, screaming and throwing himself around... hitting me and crying to get down. I use every tactic I know of to calm him down... again with the juice, goldfish, and raisins... nothing! I offer him my phone, which he promptly tosses to the ground with a crash. I sing to him, I point things out to him as we drive around. And he screams and wails and screams.

Everyone on the bus at this point is looking at me and my demon child (with the exception of Gena and Skylar who are in a happy little la-la land where Ryker's don't exist). Poor Kayla is doing what she can to calm the beast.

Ok, I've been the nice mommy long enough... lets break from the story a minute.

As a mom, do you ever get that flash go through your head when you say, "I could seriously abuse this child. If he doesn't stop or someone doesn't intervene, I just might beat him?"

Ok, if I am the only terrible mother, don't tell me. Let me think other moms have abusive thoughts in desperate moments like these.

Back to the screaming... so I sternly whisper in his ear that he needs to calm down, he needs to stop. His response... he throws himself back and bangs his head on the window. Luckily there is karma, and I am spared from having to abuse him myself!

So now we are no longer screaming, we are crying because our little head hurts. He lays his head down on my shoulder for a few brief but glorious moments of silence. People are still staring... I glare back, "Do you have any suggestions?" I am sure they'd like to tell me to get off the bus, but they do instead.

I am counting the stops in my head, trying to remember how many more we have to go from the Spanish brochure. At one point I consider getting off and walking a mile or so back home or to the depot... it has to better if he screams out in the open rather than in the confines of this tiny little bus.

But alas... we arrive at the visitors center. I am almost sure there was a roar of applause that erupted as we exited the trolley. But I can't be certain.

I'm suppose to go to the grocery store after this little trip. Needless to say, we don't make it. We head straight home, Ryker straight to bed and Mommy straight to nap time. I apologize to my girls for my attitude and mood and explain that it is certainly not their fault. And in the next breath I warn them that if they are loud and wake up the baby or more importantly, ME... abusive thoughts will again re-enter my mind.

So I nap... for what seemed like days, but more closely, 30 minutes. I get up to the familiar prehistoric screams of my son... Its ok, I'm rested and ready for more.

When I go downstairs, I am greeted by three wonderful little girls who have swept and cleaned up the kitchen for me. They have also left me little notes telling me they love me...

At least they are old enough to recognize when Mommy is on the edge.

Meet the Simpson Six

2008-08-11T19:48:00.000-04:00

Welcome to anyone who should read this blog.

I like to think I have a pretty interesting life... and I enjoy writing. So I thought it would be therapeutic to write about my "interesting life". And just possibly somebody else would enjoy reading it.

So here goes the back story.... so all the little tales to come make sense. Let me introduce the cast of characters first.

First there is me... 27 year old mother of four (explanation to follow). My family just moved to Culpeper a few months ago from Northern Fauquier County into our dream house (well my dream, but they are enjoying it too). I have been a stay-at-home mom since my son was born last year and very much loving every minute of the chaos. Quite frankly I don't know how I managed to do anything when I worked full time as an insurance agent before.

So now I fill my days with laundry and kids and more laundry and dishes and cleaning and entertaining and catering to my children's every whim (with the exception of a sacred hour of the day when I watch the previous nights TiVoed reality show).

Ken... the Dad, the hubby and the ring leader. Ken and I met almost five years ago, ONLINE and both trying to get over less-than-wonderful past relationships. To make a long love story short, we met, fell in love almost immediately and married two years later. And that's where the kids come in...

Kayla and Skylar... are Ken's girls from his previous marriage and my daughters. Step daughters seems so cold and I only ever use it to explain to a few people who give me the oogly-eye because I have an eleven year old. Kayla is 11 and is my sidekick, she will do anything to help. She can be a bit distant at times, but its those moments when she swings those lanky legs up on my lap and cuddles me that melts my heart. Skylar is 8 and she lives in a perfect world... she has such an innocence about her that she always keeps us smiling. I always tell people she is the smartest dumb blonde I have ever met!

Both of the girls are remarkable and we are extremely lucky that our family blended as wonderfully as it did right from the beginning. Kayla and Skylar are with us full time, spending three weekends out of the month with their mom. They are just as much my kids as the other two!

Genavieve... was two years old when I met Ken. She has known Ken as her Daddy for as long as she can remember and Ken adopted Gena last year so she is now officially a Simpson. This little girl has so much fire and spunk it knocks us over sometimes.... I keep telling myself all her independence and stubbornness will be useful to her one day! She use to tell us when she was younger that she was going to be an "Arguer"... a lawyer by any other name would smell as sweet!

Ryker... is the best of both Ken and I. He never stops, as I suspect most boys his age are guilty of. He has so much personality he doesn't know what to do with himself. He is such the little prince of the family. All the girls cater to his ever need... We like to call him the Mayor of Simpsonville.... he is always looking for someone new to charm.

So that's the cast....

The plot is the pursuit of happiness amongst the mayhem of everyday.

The conclusion yet to be determined...

I hope you enjoy my ramblings...

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