My husband thinks email is just a fad.

My husband is not technologically skilled in the least.

Sure, he can work his way around an XBox without breaking a sweat, and new video games are hardly challenging to him. But cell phones? Email? Facebook? All those crazy, new-fangled inventions just really aren't a part of his vocabulary.

He has a phone, but I have to remind him to turn it on. And forget about leaving him a voice mail, he'll never get it. Periodically, I will listen to his messages to make sure he didn't miss anything important, and then delete them so that his mail box doesn't get full. I'd say his messages are usually two to three weeks old by the time I hear them. Somehow he managed to learn everything there is to know about video gaming, yet he never bothered to learn computer basics or keep up with cell phone advancements. I think if he could have his way, he would use one of those old Nokia phones from 1999, with the large number buttons and no texting capability.

*            *               *                *               *

So this is your new phone?

Yep, I really like it. You should play around with it and if you like it too we can get you one like it.

I can't get it to turn on.

It's a touch screen.

What's that mean?

You need to slide your finger across it to unlock it.

Ok....what's all this stuff on the screen? Where do I go to just make a phone call?

Those are widgets to check email, Twitter, Facebook and other stuff. It's awesome, there is so much you can do on it. It's a smart phone.

Yeah. Can I just get a dumb phone?

*            *               *                *               *

Uh, is this the cord to charge the iPad?

Yep.

(Long pause) Why is it not charging?

You need to plug it into the computer.

What? Then what's this wall charger for?

The Kindle.

So what does the iPad plug into?

The computer.

What? What's THAT look like?


You need the one with the USB plug.

(Heavy sigh) What's a USB?! I don't understand all these cords.

*            *               *                *               *

Sometimes I feel like I'm married to an 80 year old.

Then again, that's really not fair to say since my 91 year old Grandpa has an iPad, emails me regularly, and is active on Facebook.


A few weeks ago Husband's AOL account was hacked into, and his account was sending spam email to everyone on his contacts list. After several unsuccessful attempts to change his password, (he used his email account so rarely, he forgot the answers to his security questions), I told him to just delete the AOL account all together and set up a new email account with a different server.

*            *               *                *               *

I don't want a new email account. I want to be done with this altogether.

You're kidding, right? You have to have an email account.

But why?

BECAUSE IT IS THE YEAR TWO-THOUSAND-ELEVEN.

*            *               *                *               *

On the plus side, at least I know we're never going to have an Anthony Weiner-type situation on our hands.

Even if the trade-off means I have to send a homing pigeon to Husband to find out what he wants for dinner on any given day.

Flashback Friday - The Girl on the Milk Box

When I was about three years old, several different friends of my parents began asking them if I had modeled for a milk company. My parents had no idea what they were talking about - I had never done any sort of modeling, but their friends were adamant that there was a powdered milk box in grocery stores, with the image of a little girl who looked just like me. My parents were intrigued, and when they went to the store, it didn't take them long to find the milk box they spoke of.

And there was no denying the resemblance of what I looked like at that age to the image on the box.

*Courtesy of Google Images

For years we kept a box of the product in our house, even though we never used it. And every time I saw it in the store, I would joke about how they owed me several year's worth in royalties for reproducing my image.

Ironically, while searching for an image of the milk box, I came across this article, which states that the product was discontinued three years ago. Which, I have to admit, made me a little bit sad.

But just as this company was ending their decades-long use of my likeness on their product, another company began using an image similar to Bug on theirs.

*Courtesy of Costco online

I've always thought the kid on the Kirkland Brand, size 6 diapers looked a lot like Bug, and this was confirmed yesterday when my almost 2 year old niece was at Costco with her dad, and she pointed at the box and shouted my youngest son's name.

So where does this leave us? Still waiting on our royalty checks, and wondering who in our family will be exploited next. Binker on a diaper rash bottle? Husband on a cereal box? Only time will tell.

Poopy Birds

Since becoming a mom, I've had to deal with some pretty disgusting situations. These include, but are not limited to: pee, poop, projectile vomit, snotty noses, bloody lips, and really nasty food messes. Usually though, these things are spread out, so that even though it is unpleasant to deal with at the time, it is not too overwhelming.

This week, however, I feel as though I've been caught up in some sort of perfect storm, where nearly every disgusting thing that could happen, has happened. And it's only Tuesday.

Yesterday started out like any typical Monday. After Binker returned home from preschool, and ate lunch, I announced that it was nap time, since I had reached my limit and could barely keep my eyes open.

Even though Binker now sleeps in a big boy bed at night, I usually have him take naps in his tent, since I want to make sure that while I am passed out to the world, he is contained and safe. He tends to fall asleep very quickly in the tent too, versus being in his bed. The other day though, I was gone for a seminar, and Husband was watching the boys. When I got home that evening Husband informed me (all superior-like) that not only did Binker nap in his big boy bed, but that he fell asleep quickly, without much problem at all.

So, obviously, not wanting to look like the weaker parent, I decided that I would let Binker nap on his bed, but I made it so that he could not get out of his room. I figured that even if he didn't fall asleep, so long as he was in his room, there was no way he could accidentally hurt himself. And things were going great until Binker's cries broke the silence of my nap.

I ran to his bedroom and found him crying that his Lion was missing. Everything looked normal at first, until I noticed that the pants Jacob was wearing looked slightly wet. I quickly realized that he must have removed his diaper, and then put his pants back on...and wet them. I sighed in slight frustration. No big deal though, really. I just needed to put a new diaper and pants on him, and discard of the removed diaper.

It didn't take me long to find it.

My gaze moved to the right, and I noticed several odd, brown spots on the floor. I quickly realized that the diaper he had removed had not just been a wet diaper. I was staring at Poop-ageddon. And not only had Binker dumped the diaper contents all over the floor, but it appeared he had stepped in it as well, mashing it all into the carpet.

And you think you're grossed out.

Nap ruined, I got to work on discarding of the mess and sanitizing the affected area. It was exhausting, and, well, just plain gross. By the time I was done, I declared to anyone who would listen that I was totally done with that day, and ready for Tuesday, as I assumed things could only get better.

Tuesday morning started off pretty much the same. Got Binker dressed and ready for school. At 7:40 we headed out front to wait for the school bus. Bug was still sleeping, so I didn't shut the front door all the way, since I didn't want him to hear it click and start crying for me. I closed it just enough that it was shut, but just barely.

On any other day this would have been perfectly fine, except that today there was a crazy amount of wind blowing.

About six minutes later, Binker had been picked up and I ran back toward the house. My heart sunk when I saw that the wind had blown our front door wide open.

A lot of our neighbors have cats, and they like to wander around our yard for some reason. Don't get me wrong, I like cats and all, but I don't want strange cats in my house, near my kids' toys, and as a pregnant woman, I'm not really supposed to be near cats either. So my first thought was, Oh man, I really hope some cat didn't get in our house.

And that's when I saw it. A bird. Hopping around our family room. A dirty, grimy, disease-carrying bird. A FREAKING BIRD!

I wish it had only been a cat in our house.

When the bird saw me, it flew up to the windowsill behind our couch, and kept pecking at the window trying to get out. "No, you stupid bird!!" I kept yelling, "That's a window! Go out the door!"

There I was, broom in hand, shouting like a lunatic, trying to coax the bird off our windowsill to get him out the front door, and hoping he wouldn't touch any other surface in the house on the way out.

No dice.

Finally I got a hold of a juice pitcher, and I managed to get it over the bird, and slid a book underneath it, so that he didn't have an exit. Then, screaming, and jumping back and forth on my feet, I ran it outside and set the little rat-with-wings free.

At that point the real work began though. The bird had pooped all over our windowsill, some of it getting on the back of our couch, and it had also shed a bunch of its disease-infested feathers. Since becoming pregnant I have tried to avoid using a lot of harsh cleaning chemicals, and stuck mainly to soap and water to clean surfaces. But for this? I broke out the good stuff: Clorox Wipes and Lysol spray. I scrubbed and sprayed until there was nothing left. Then Bug and I let all the sanitizing chemicals sit for a good couple of hours while we sought refuge at my mom's house.

I'd be lying though, if I didn't admit that it crossed my mind to simply drag the couch out to the driveway and set it on fire.

So, this has been my week so far, and I hesitate to say that things can only get better from here on out, because I am NOT going to tempt the universe with that loaded statement.

I have to admit that when I used to imagine being a parent, these were not the images that came to mind. I pictured happy, smiling faces, clean children and a clean house, you know, something out of a 1950's sitcom.

I have decided though, that in reality, my life is a lot more like the show Fear Factor.

Only with less monetary prizes and more bird flu.

Wakin' Up is Hard to Do

I have been so tired lately. Actually, tired doesn't even seem to be enough. Exhausted is more like it.

I get that I'm pregnant, and with pregnancy comes a lot of sleepiness, but I am fully into the second trimester here, almost the third, and I thought I was past the overwhelming grogginess that accompanies the early stages of pregnancy. For a few weeks there I did have some energy, I wasn't needing a nap every day, and I was feeling a lot more productive.

But then, like a freight train, this exhaustion hit me again. Every day I feel like I count the minutes until I can get the boys down for their naps so that I can collapse onto my mattress. At the same time though, I always go through this inner battle over the things I should be doing...

Vacuuming
Laundry
Starting dinner
Laundry
Cleaning bathrooms
Laundry

...versus what I am doing:

Passed out, drooling on my pillow.

I just don't remember being this wiped out with either of my other pregnancies, although to be fair, there are a lot of things I don't remember from my pregnancies. Big things, sure, but minute specifics are lost on me. I have even been reading my "What to Expect" books throughout this pregnancy, since I honestly forgot all of the things that are happening each week.

Circumstances are different now. I have two very active toddlers that keep me busy from the moment they wake up until the moment they fall asleep at night, which I'm sure is contributing to my sleep-deprived state. I don't remember being anywhere close to this tired when I was pregnant with Binker and worked a nine-to-five job. My mom once told me that when my brother and I were little, she went to see the doctor because she was sooo tired all the time, and she just knew that she had to have some sort of vitamin deficiency. He told her that she was tired because she had two little kids at home. So maybe that's what I'm experiencing here.

No matter what the reason is though, I am getting frustrated at my daily need for a nap; I just feel so unproductive. And the fact that I can't enjoy caffeine doesn't help much either. Do any moms out there have any natural remedies for this constant exhaustion?

Or should I simply tell my inner voice to shut itself up and enjoy these naps while I am still able to sneak them in, and don't have a needy newborn in the house?

Underestimating

I don’t know what it is, but lately I feel like I have been underestimating Binker and his ability to learn new skills, or adapt to new situations. Perhaps it’s because a big part of me still sees him as my baby, even though he is now a couple months past his third birthday. I have a feeling that no matter how old he gets, I will always look at him as my first, sweet little boy.

Yet, I know that as much as I may dislike it, time does move on – all too quickly. And with the passing of time, Binker is going to grow and change, and with those changes come big milestones. Recently, Binker has accomplished a number of “big kid” things.

The first was eating with a spoon. Now, to be fair, he began using a spoon to eat quite a while ago, but I wasn’t consistent in having him use it. And I typically only allowed him a spoon at mealtime when it was something thick, like yogurt, which would stick to the spoon, to prevent a lot of spilling.

In the last few months, Binker has taken a liking to Chex cereal for breakfast, and I was having him just eat it with his fingers. But then, I looked at him one day, and it hit me that, he is three now, and should be mastering the spoon – even if it meant I might have a big mess on my hands. That is what learning is all about, right? Trial and error.

Nervously, the next day, I gave Binker a spoon with his bowl of milk and cereal. He got an excited gleam in his eye and dug right in with it. Here we go, I thought, certain that I would be wiping up a huge pile of milk and cereal off the floor in no time.

To my surprise, however, he took right to it. That’s not to say that some milk doesn’t end up on his pajama top, or dribbling down his chin; he is, after all, still a toddler. But when I saw how well he was doing with the spoon, I almost felt bad that I had underestimated his ability for so long. He now eats his cereal with a spoon on a daily basis, and he continues to get better and better.

The next milestone Binker achieved (and a HUGE one, I might add) was transitioning from his crib to a big boy bed. I will be perfectly honest here, I had been putting this process off for as long as possible. I was even considering just keeping him in a bed until about age 15. Okay not really, but pretty close. I just knew it was going to be an enormous headache – Binker had been in a crib tent since he was about 14 months, because as soon as he learned how to climb out of his crib, there was NO keeping him contained. I thought that with the freedom of a big boy bed, we would find ourselves in a huge tug of war every night over trying to get him to fall asleep, and then staying in the bed all night.

And this Mama loves her sleep ya’ll, so I was not exactly looking forward to losing a ton of sleep at night.

We kind of reached a point however, where I just knew we needed to start working on it. I chose a four-week period when Husband was out of town, so that he wouldn’t be bothered by our long, difficult nights that I just knew were to come. The first night, I told Binker to get in bed, and he headed for his crib. I picked him up, placed him on his big boy bed, and said that this was his bed now, no more crib, but he needed to stay in it all night. Even though I spoke seriously to him, in my head I couldn’t help but think, Who am I kidding?

Well, once again, Binker exceeded all of my expectations. He instantly LOVED being in the big boy bed, and played nicely with his toys until he fell asleep.

And then? He stayed asleep. All night.

I seriously could not believe my luck. I assumed it had to be some sort of a fluke, but then, night after night, he stayed in his bed and slept wonderfully for me. And, once again, I couldn’t help but feel like I had underestimated Binker’s ability to learn a new skill; I felt I had been holding him back.

And just this week, Binker tackled a new thing: riding the school bus. His summer preschool class started yesterday, and I was so nervous for how he would do on the bus ride. I didn’t know if he would be scared, being in a new vehicle, or if he would be afraid since no one familiar would be with him. I was sick to my stomach, worrying about him crying all alone on the bus ride. But, when the bus pulled up to our driveway after his first day, and I nervously asked the bus driver how Jacob did, he responded, “Terrific! Didn’t even faze him.”

I looked a few rows back to see my son happily looking out the window of the bus. Then he looked at me and said, “Mommy’s back!”

I couldn’t have been more excited for him, or proud of him for being such a brave, big boy. This morning when the bus came back to pick him up, without a moment’s hesitation, he stepped right on up, and took the very front seat, ready for another day of bus rides and preschool class. 

 Is he not the cutest preschooler ever?!

With all of these changes and milestones that Binker has accomplished in such a short amount of time, I find myself reevaluating a lot of the ways I have been approaching him, and perhaps, even, coddling him. I realize that he is much more capable that I have been giving him credit for, and even though it is somewhat of a bittersweet process, I am so excited to see him learning new things, and to see the pride he feels in himself.

Now, do I dare take on the next big milestone in our path…?

Fourth and Family

As I mentioned last year, the July 4th holiday holds a special place in my heart; to me, it is about family and celebration and good food and delicious wine, (when not knocked-up). That's why I am so thrilled that Husband is home this year to celebrate with the boys and me. Being the patriotic nerd that I am, I got us all red, white and blue - themed clothes to wear, and it practically feels like Christmas as I await the big day! On the schedule: lots of relaxing, eating, drinking, kayaking, playing with the boys and laughing with the family.

This is also a day to remember what we're really celebrating: our nation's independence. I am not the least bit afraid to call myself a proud American. This is the best freakin' country on the planet, and there is no place else I would ever want to call home.

Even if we do designate a day for people to get completely obliterated on alcohol and play with explosives.

Here's to another memorable Fourth of July. Wishing you all a happy and safe one! Oh, and if you're looking for tips on how to decorate your fingernails in a festive fashion for the Fourth, check out my Beauty Bonanza page!

The boys and their cousin in their Fourth of July outfits

Ready to partay!

Today

Today, life is great.

My sons are running around playing. Their smiles are big and warm, and their laughter is genuine, in the way that only the laughter of children can be. They are healthy, and growing bigger every day. They make me happier than I could ever truly express.

The new baby is kicking more and more often. I felt the first big outside kick two nights ago, and quickly put Husband's hand on my stomach and he felt a kick immediately after. It doesn't matter how many children we have, those kicks never get old. We constantly marvel at the miracle that this, and each baby is.

My husband works so hard for our family, and he has made so many sacrifices for our sake. Tonight he will come home, and we will share our nightly routine of laying on our bed, watching Netflix shows on TV. Right now we are hooked on Glee and Sons of Anarchy. (Oh, but don't tell anyone on my husband's ship that he watches Glee, they're still giving him crap about the time he watched The Notebook with me).

Life is just good right now. It always is, but we have so much to be thankful for at this time, and so much to be happy about.

Growing up, I always wanted a husband who would be my best friend, and I always wanted to be a stay at home mom to my kids. To be able to wake up every day, and live that dream, is so sweet. Sure, there are days that can be messy and sticky and stressful, but I wouldn't want my life any other way. I am blessed beyond measure and so excited for what the future holds for our family.