I hate the beach & Day 81. 284 Days Left.

After today I realized something… I hate the beach. No, I really hate the beach. Correction, I fucking hate the beach.

Not for the simple purpose of hating to wear a swimsuit in public. After all, no matter how hard I try to find a swimsuit that "flatters" (and I really don't think there is such a thing), I constantly feel like I'm overexposed and hyper-conscious of my post childbirth "problem areas" "saddle bags" and "thunder thighs". And then there is the uncomfortableness of wearing stretchy, wet, non-breathable fabric right on my skin, riding up, shifting around and overall feeling gross.

I hate how long it takes to pack necessities needed for two toddlers and the couple of hours we will be spending seaside. Sand buckets and shovels, extra diapers, pull-up and swim diapers, towels, umbrella, juice, snacks, extra sunscreen, hats, sunglasses, camera (because I. am. Pathological.), water wings, baby floating rings… I feel like a pack mule carrying this plus one kid to the shore line, which is usually at least a mile. ugh!

Once arriving, I turn into this over-barring, protective control freak. I worry about everything…

1. The Sun. Not only are they toddlers but their blonde hair and fair skin is strictly made for burning. The intensity of the sun at the beach is like nowhere else, and I fear no matter how many times I apply the 100+ sunscreen, they will end up burnt. Besides the discomfort, there is a serious skin cancer issue here, and therefore I feel justified in saying that the beach is hazardous to my kiddos health.

2. The Sand. Oh.My.God. a sensory person's nightmare. It ends up in our clothes, stuck to our skin, in hoo-ha's, our hair, in the car, in the bathtub, my washing machine and dryer, all over the floor, the bed and in the food....
And forget it with a potty trained toddler. Having to truck back and forth, to the potty, on the scolding hot sand. After the fifth trip I am thinking, Addison just piss in the water like every other normal kid.

3. The Water. This is my biggest fear. Drowning. Yes, you can leave the beach in a body bag. There are rip currents and sinkholes and seaweed in the water to pull you under. It’s Neptune’s way of thinning the land population. Also in the water, there is the sea life. I don't like walking (or swimming) around in water teeming with strange invertebrates, some of which bite or sting. And then there are the sharks...weren't we all traumatized by a Jaws movie at some point in our childhoods?

I make sure we perch ourselves in between two “on duty” life guard stands. This has to give us a better chance in the event something unthinkable happens. Right? I am giving us more than a 50 percent chance for help. I feel as though I spend my time planning out elaborate rescues rather than enjoying the laughter coming from my kids.

The waves make it impossible to control how wet I want to get. But they mostly leave me clucthing, which ever baby I am holding, in a death grip; I fear that at any moment one will pull them from my arms.

4. Sunscreen. Due to #1 (the sun), I am constantly applying sunscreen on little bodies. I admit I'm glad it's around but really what a nightmare trying to apply it evenly to two uncooperative squirming monsters. They just hate wearing it! It's greasy and heavy-feeling, and they freak out when I come near their faces for fear of getting it in their eyes. Even though it says tear free, the kids have come to realize it burns! Also, the stickiness of the sunscreen exacerbates the effects of #2 (the sand).

Am I alone? I mostly feel as though I am. I see other families at the beach having a great time. Running around. Carefree. I really don’t understand.

Can you help me out here? Anyone?
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Day 81
Hippo Bubbles

It’s that time again! & Day 80. 285 Days Left.

Holiday Picture season is amongst us.

You know the pictures we parents force our children into taking. We insist they get dressed up and sit on the Easter Bunny or Santa’s lap with the hopes of capturing the “perfect memory”.

Why do we torture our children when they always turn out horrible and cost a ton of money?

Take for Example…

Christmas 2009 Santa:

Cheesy Santa refusing to hold Jackson, mommy stuck in the picture and neither of the kiddo's particularly happy.

Easter 2010:

Only Jackson was willing to cooperate because Addison refused screamed at the top of her lungs “I not going! I scared!”

Christmas 2010:

Jackson screamed for the first five shots. This was the best out of the bunch; notice Addison’s “I am uncomfortable next to this thing and so over-it” half smile and Santa’s eyes… closed.

Easter 2011:

This year was no better. Jackson screamed and Addison wearing her “get us the hell outta here” smile.

I am determined to get a great decent holiday picture which includes two smiling kids. Hopefully, this will be accomplished before sitting on the Easter Bunny and Santa’s laps becomes, well, just too damn creepy.
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Day 80
Disney fun at the mall... unleashing the hellions

Jackson throwing bouncing balls around The Disney Store

Addison making her mask for Minnie's Masquerade Party

Dinner Talk & Day 79. 286 Days Left.

After 1 1/2 hours of trying to get Addison to finish her dinner, she decides she is mad!


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Day 79
Things I allow so I can get dinner done

Just a guy thing & Day 77. 288 Days Left.

Jackson has decided he enjoys humping objects about his height. Mostly an electrical outlet box outside our condo building. No biggie, we are at home and it is funny.

Don’t you agree…


Last week, he did it at the kiddie play-area in the mall.

Seriously, what do you say to other moms?

I don't know where he got it; watching the dogs!? As they grab their kids and run.

So no surprise when he walked up to my leg and humped that.

Oh, the joys of having a boy.
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Day 77
My funny little guy

Day 74: Get off the phone! 291 Days Left.

What happens when I leave my monsterschildren unintended in the bathroom to assist my mother SOMEONE, over the phone, with how-to facebook questions…

Notice the three empty rolls.
The stupid mommy left the child proof cabinet lock undone.

Note to self… Get off the phone!

Five rules of toddlerism & Day 72. 293 Days Left.

Thursday night, St. Patty’s day, we I decided the kids and I needed to get out of the house. I called the hubby and told him when he got home from work, we were going out.

We decided to take the kids to a family event in Fort Lauderdale. Once arriving, we were a bit disappointed so we walked to another restaurant. The kids were amazing during dinner; well behaved, sat, ate and enjoyed the bagpipe player which came to each table. Were these really my children?

We got home around 9pm and it was all downhill from there. They cried in perfect harmony; Addison until 11:30pm and Jackson 12am. What the hell happened to them between the time we left the restaurant and got home? Jackson we blamed teething. Addison, well, what was her excuse? Oh, that’s right, she is three. Yes, this is more like it… welcome back kids!

The kids woke at 7:30am and were already shouting their morning demands: mil-mil-mil(milk), chocolate milk, cereal, potty, new diaper... whine, whine, whine, wine… mmm wine. It’s only 7:30am; right.

I pry open my eyes and meet every demand. Good mommy. My only hope was that I can get the monsters down for a nap by 11am. We had plans to go to my friend Jayme’s and hang out by the pool with her and our other girlfriend (my kids call Aunt Wiz). Aunt Wiz has a son; B will be one in a couple of weeks.

Rule number one: Never compare your children to B. He is an amazing baby (not that I don’t think my children are amazing because they are)… but B was born without a fussy switch. This baby is quiet, content, happy; he is not either of my children. Right, we are not comparing.

12:30 in the afternoon, no sight of napping or the hopes of a nap; we pack-up, walk the dogs and head out for our day of fun in the sun.

We get to Jayme’s and shortly after Aunt Wiz and cousin B arrive. Addison is so excited. If there is any person Addison loves as much as mommy, daddy, her Auntie M (my sister), Aunt Wennie, uncles or her grand-parents it is Aunt Wiz. Addison jumps up and down clapping her hands. This is what she has been waiting for the past week. Maybe that is why she has not been sleeping… excitement.

Rule number two: Never tell your toddler they are going to do something fun and exciting until the day of the event; the anticipation leads to no sleep and as we all know I NEED my sleep!

Five minutes into Aunt Wiz and B being in the house, Addison starts the “lets go to the pool” over and over and over. We get everyone ready and walk to the pool. The boys had a great time. Both Jackson and B were content lounging in their floaties. Addison had fun but after 15 minutes she was whining that we needed to go back to Jayme’s house because “ I so so so cold and tired and need to go to Jayme’s to take a nap because I so cranky” as only Addison can so eloquently say.

Meanwhile, I knew what everyone was thinking. I was thinking the same damn thing… we packed bags for three babies, blew up water wings for Addison, two floaties for the boys, packed a cooler with snacks and drinks and walked over to the pool; now 20 minutes later Addison is ready to leave?!

Rule number three: An overtired toddler and the sun are not great combinations.

Jayme suggests we take the kids for a walk to see the horses- we did just that. I thought it would be something Addison enjoyed; she loves horses. She was a little fussy though. I think the combination of a late night, no nap and the sun left her withered. Jackson, however, loved the horses. His face light up as he stuck his finger in one horses nostril. Notice how nothing was mentioned about B. He was content the entire time. Just happy to be hanging off his mommy’s hip.

We get back to the house, change and Jayme starts dinner. Two more friends of hers would be joining for dinner; one of which is a mommy with her two daughters a two yr old and 4 yr old. Good, Addison will have playmates. Maybe that will keep her busy.

I scramble to try and get the kids down for a nap before everyone arrives; however, Jackson is to busy going up and down the stairs. All. Fucking. Day. I hate stairs. Really what is the fascination with stairs? The three of us took turns getting him. The moment we left the living room we would hear Addison yell “Mommy Jackson is up the stairs again. Come get him”. Fantastic.

Fifteen minutes before everyone arrives, Jackson finally falls to sleep. I lay him on the sofa and sigh. I will actually be able to eat dinner.

The girls begin running around the house, screaming… I look over and Jackson sleeps through the chaos. He is exhausted. He was sleeping soundly until the girls began jumping onto the sofa- he wakes screaming just as Jayme was putting dinner on the table. So much for enjoying dinner. I sit him on my lap and we he eats.

Rule number four:Do not have a happy thought before enjoying the experience.

After dinner, the kids continue to run around and play. I go out to the living room to check them and I smell poop. I check Jackson; nothing. I look in Addison’s direction. She knows what’s next. “Addison come here and let me check your underwear”. Yup, sure enough my overtired, stubborn three yr old decided to poop in her underwear… I don’t know what was most frustrating the fact I knew she was overtired and would mostly likely poop, that I forgot to bring an extra pair of pull-ups or underwear or that her response to “Addison why did you poop in your underwear” was “because I did”.

Rule number five: Always pack an extra pair of underwear and if you have not learned this after the third time of experiencing the very same situation, you are an asshole like me!

When I have the two of them alone it becomes very difficult to sit and enjoy myself. Most times I find I am having less fun and hate the fact I can’t just sit and talk like everyone else. Instead, I am running around like a "NO" screaming mad person chasing two toddlers room to room. Why was Aunt Wiz able to help with dinner, sit and enjoy eating her meal, help with clean up and engage in conversation with other adults? Why was B contently crawling around on the floor not making a peep?

As I sat at the table, while I hear my monsters screaming in the background I think to myself… well, they really could be worse. I have seen bad kids and my kids are not bad; they are toddlers.

Lesson learned: parent’s are always most critical of their own children. They weren’t that naughty… just obnoxious enough to drive me insane.
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Day 72
All in a weekend
Sunday Playdate in the Park





Addison exhausted


Sunday morning was spent at the park, the afternoon at Pop-pop and Gredda's house; ending with a sleep over for Addison.



Monday afternoon, I went to pick-up Addison. The hubby met us at my parent's house and we ended up staying for dinner.

Tuesday, I was happy to be home...

The ending result... a week of being out, a week of late nights and early mornings, a week of cranky overtired babies and a week to finish a post.

Take a bite & Day 71. 294 Days Left.

Three words I hate most.

Seriously,I must repeat them a million times during the course of dinner.

Addison was not always a horrible eater. In fact, it seems as though she only has a difficult time during dinner.

See the look of disgust on her face... she really does not want to eat what is crammed in her mouth...

I touched a bit on her eating habit once before. At the time she was going through a cinnamon toast and cereal only phase….ah, toddlerism.

Dinner takes anywhere from an hour to two, sometimes longer. “Addison, take a bite” seems to be the only dinner conversation. Each time she politely responds yells “no mommy, I have food in my mouth; see! I need to take a drink to send it to my belly.” She is so matter-of-fact. Apparently, Mommy is so stupid.

I sit and watch as she swooshes her chocolate milk around her food stuffed cheeks in the hopes she can hide the taste of the repulsive dinner I spent the last hour preparing and cooking. Disgusting. Toddlers are disgusting. Don't you think?
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Day 71
Happy St. Patty's Day

Be safe

Only in my house & Day 68. 297 Days Left.

Addison: “Mommy, I have a boogie”

Mommy: “ok, so get a piece of toilet paper” Addison running down the hall…”and don’t forget to close the bathroom door!”

Addison: “here mommy, get my boogie now”

Mommy: “Did you remember to close the door?”

Addison: “Yes”

Well, you can expect my surprise when I pass the bathroom and find this


Only in my house would you find a balloon in the toilet.
suppose, that is what I get for tying a rubber duck to the balloon string.

I guess someone forgot to close the door.
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Day 68
after making mud soup

Things are NOT what they SEEM & Day 65. 300 Days Left.

A friend and I were having a conversation; she was in the midst of dealing with her 20 month old son’s tantrum, “girl, I don’t know how you do it with two toddlers… you always seem to have it altogether.”

Yes, my friend, SEEM.

I do not, in fact, have it altogether. Most days are just the opposite. A mess.

Today, I do not have a voice. Probably because I spent yesterday screaming at a Walgreen's photo clerk along with my rowdy children; getting absolutely no where with any of them, followed by 12am and 2:30am screaming battles with Addison over bedtime.

No voice. How am I supposed to yell at them today?

The trick: I do not let people see my chaos so it seems as though I have everything under control.

Lets be honest, I am out numbered, defeated and outright exhausted.
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Day 65
Where are the kiddos?



It is amazing they woke up in good moods

A for Apple, B for Butt, H is for Hoo-ha & P is for Poop. & Day 63. 302 Days Left.

Recently Addison has become especially interested in the way words are spelled. I get asked several times a day to spell words for her. Since the hubby and I are planning to send her to school in August, I have taken full advantage of this and sound out the words for her to give me the letter name.

That being said, today, while we were in the room playing with her critter clinic, she asked me to spell "butt". I sounded it out and she gave me the letter names. Next, she asked me to spell "penis". Trying not to laugh, I sounded out the word and she gave me the letter names. Once we spelled penis, she asked me how to spell “hoo-ha”; the word we use for vagina. I said to her “how bout we spell animals words instead.” She didn’t like the idea because “spelling animals words is so boring”. She than asked me to spell “poop”. I asked why she only wanted to spell potty words. She responded with: “Because they are so so so so so funny mommy.”

Great, as long as we've got that clear.








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Day 63
4th floor balcony swimming

The not so perfect and oh so tired. & Day 62. 303 Days Left.

The problem I see with a lot of Facebook posts and an overwhelming majority of blogs is this: People only ever talk about the 1% of things that are perfection. Perfect pictures, edited as such, perfect posts about a perfect meal (not mentioning the fact that you’d fed your kids cereal for breakfast, snacks for lunch and leftovers for dinner the five days up to leading that), how positive and perfect you're feeling, turning illness into a great learning opportunity, talking about how great your kids are when we all know they're driving you up the wall more often than not, the highlights of a trip that leave out the fact you have to stop at every other rest stop for a pee “non-pee” break, the fact that your one year old vomited all over the car seat & himself while in protest to the length of the drive, the screaming over who gets to watch what DVD and the never ending “are we there yet” from a three year old.

Typically, I try to be honest in my posting. I’d hate to make someone feel bad by getting a less than realistic view of my life and think I’m anything close to perfect. I’m not.

Yes, like others, I do have good days, some really good days and the occasional “wow, my kids are really great and made this day easy” days. And yes, I do post about those days. But for the most part my days, as a stay at home mom, are about same.

With that being said, I Am Tired.

Exhausted really.

Correction, Fucking Exhausted.

I am tired because I basically have not slept in four years. Yes, Addison is three but I do count the 10 months I spent incubating her. She gets up every night to pee, and although it is nice that I do not wake up to a wet bed, most mornings, it would be even lovelier if she just went in on her own and went back to bed, instead of waking me up and requiring a chaperon for what is definitely a one-person job. When she is not waking to pee, she is coming into our bed complaining screaming about her legs, feet and knees hurting. I understand growing pains are excruciating but this goes on for two hours. The entire time I pray she does not wake Jackson. On the nights she is not waking, Jackson takes over. Teething. Diaper changes. Something. Always something.

Before you anti-complaining, sugar-coating mommies mention it- I am fully aware these are the responsibilities I signed up for when becoming a mother. I get it. None the less, the thought, most days, does not make my job any easier…

I am tired because, as usual, Addison was literally in. my. face at 7am asking when I was going to make breakfast, cause she's "really, really hungry." Probably because she barely ate her dinner do to the fact she "wanted peanut butter and jelly” for the one millionth time.

I am tired because, all before 8:00 am this morning, I made three meals for two children (two for Jackson because the first he threw to the dogs), each with its own variation, each with a different beverage, and each with a lot of whining. I cleaned up vomit of various types, cat, dog and Jackson’s. I had to wash and change a crib because Jackson vomited all over it and himself. I unloaded a dishwasher and loaded the breakfast dishes.

I am tired because my kids fight every second of every day. They fight over everything. And Nothing. At the same time. They are currently in two different rooms watching two different movies. It's bad parenting, but it affords me peace.

I am tired because it is a battle to get my kids to eat. Anything. So I offer Addison chocolate milk and Jackson a bottle so they feel somewhat full. Obviously not going for mother of the year. I choose my battles.

But, despite all of this, it is safe to say that I am not nearly as tired as Jackson.

Who would not be falling asleep during lunch had he taken a nap when I put him down.
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Day 62
Snack Time- Watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse