My favorite photo yet

I wish I would have.





Damn. Why didn't I?

That, my friends, is the question that keeps me up at night.

Puh-leaze

Food or Lewd??

Honestly, if you have to ask that question, then I have this one question for you:

Kick in the ass or in the crotch?

Gym-nice-tics?

I took Gavin to gymnastics last night fully accepting of he idea that this would be our last gymnastics class. We had paid for the whole month so I wasn't going to let this last Monday go to waste and besides, I must admit that I was holding out on the hope that there would be some major turn-a-round in his behavior.

I talked up this "last" gymnastics class all weekend. I told him that unless he participated in class.... unless he listened to me and Miss Erica.... unless he did what he was supposed to do... we would NOT come back to the gym. If he cried or refused to do class we were going to go home and that was it. Gymnastics all done. The entire drive to the gym I quizzed him on the consequences of his actions:

"Gavin, what happens if you cry?"

"We go home. We don't come back."

"Gavin, what happens if you don't listen to me or Miss Erica."

"We go home. We don't come back."

"Do you like class?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to do gymnastics?"

"Yes, I do class. I do my exercises. I listen. I be good."

Lo and behold, this was his best gymnastics class EVAH. He did the entire class from the warm-up to the stretches to the boring old circuits he has done sixteen million times before to the bars which are right next to a giant fan that he usually becomes obsessed with and refuses to do class. He was fantastic and performed effortlessly and appeared to have a lot of fun. He was happy and excited and even hugged me after all of his big moves. Are you ready for this?

He even waited his turn.

Waited.
His.
Turn.

Snowball fight in hell at 3:00. Be there or be square!!!!!

So, it looks like we're going to give gymnastics another month. If he acts up during a class or doesn't want to particiapte, we'll just leave and then talk to him all week about the upcoming class and give it one last shot. I hope this class was his last "last shot" but we'll see.

I also kind of sort of bonded with a new mom. Her son is three and a half and pretty much acted like how Gavin acted last week the entire time. She looked embarrassed and frazzled and I just smiled and asked if she wanted to do some DNA testing to find out if our boys were related.

At the end of class, the instructor called the kids over to get stamps and coloring sheets- their weekly rewards- by saying, "alright kids, over here with me for stamps!!" I muttered under my breath, "alright parents, over with me for margaritas." New mom heard me and smiled, high-fived me, and told me we definitely needed to make plans for a night out with margaritas.

That's right, I got a high five. I think new mom and I are on our way to becoming fast friends. We both have crazy sons, a penchant for liquor, and we both have been moms for so long that we have forgotten how to appropriately interact with other adults- hence, the high five.

The "Officially a Mom" Diet

Alright, folks. I have finally decided to write a diet book for all those mom out there wanting to lose the baby weight. It is based upon years of extensive research, personal experience, and cutting-edge nutritional science. I have even made an easy to follow photo tutorial for the laymans.

Step 1.

Prepare something to eat. Doesn't matter what it is. You can eat whatever you want on this diet. The only caveat is that your children MUST be nearby when you are eating.

Step 2.

Sit down to eat.

This is where the magic happens. Once your children see you with food, they will quickly shun whatever is on their plates in favor of whatever it is you are eating. Like lions circling a gazelle, they will move in closer and closer and then finally....

Step 3.

For every bite you take, give the kids three... or four.... or hell, give them the whole thing if it keeps them from screaming their heads off.



Photo tutorial:



What do you think?


I'm going to make millions!!!

Mama's Got a Brand New Bag

For Jill!!! :)




I was given a brand new Coach bag today! I have always dreamed of carrying a fancy schmancy handbag instead of my $5.00 Old Navy special.

Of course, by Coach, I mean a knock-off Coach that my friend's husband bought for me in China as a thank you for giving her all of my maternity clothes. It is supposed to look like this bag and it does! I'll probably never own the real deal but at least I have a rockin' good fake.

So here I am with my fake Coach and my real mom hair, very real husband's (clean) underwear, and a very, very real t-shirt that is probably older than most of you.

Gymnasty-ics

So much for the Gavinator becoming the next Mitch Gaylord and starring in American Anthem II and giving me and his father all the revenue from his Wheaties ad campaign.

I hate to say it but I don’t think gymnastics is working out.

For the past couple of months or so, gymnastics has been more temper tantrums and chasing Gavin across the gym than front flips and handstands. It sucks because Gavin LOVES gymnastics and does have natural talent but he is bored, bored, bored. What started as a class with one on one instruction has now become a class of 7 with most of the children being in the 18 month age range with not one but TWO parents getting in the way assisting.

I don’t know what happened around the beginning of December but we had a large influx of new students. This did not suit Gavin for numerous reasons with the main ones being:

1. The new students took away all the attention of his beloved Miss Erica

2. We pretty much had to go back to the beginning and repeat skills over and over that he had mastered and grown tired of months ago.

3. He no longer has free reign of the equipment. For months Gavin could jump on the trampoline when he wanted to or walk across the beam whenever it suited him. Since it was a class of him and sometimes, one other girl, we could go out on the floor or jump off the horse or do whatever. He never had to wait his turn. It was much more active.

4. The new kids are itty bitty and they take forever. Never mind the fact we’re are repeating the same skills and circuits over and over again so the newbies can catch up, the newbies are half Gavin’s size and he has no patience for them. None. I imagine it is like a roomful of his sister and all he wants to do is clothes line them and spit on them.

This new arrangement does not work well for me because Gavin is upset throughout the whole class and begging to do the things he used to be allowed to do and I’m given the task of trying to keep him and line and not send one of the newbies to the emergency room while I’m keeping Grace happy. Remember when Gavin’s teacher told me it was fine if I brought Grace even though it was parent taught because she would be there to help? Yeah right. She doesn’t even acknowledge Gavin any more. She is too busy helping all the itty bitties even though they have two parents out there.

And don’t even get me started on the parents. Between threatening to spank their 18 month old for not stretching properly and giving me the big fat eyeroll when I drag a screaming Gavin off the trampoline because six months into gymnastics he has to learn to wait his turn, I’m definitely not feeling any love for them. The only mom I kind of sort of bonded with started her daughter in a new class when our class got so crowded.

Last night it all came to head. I was tired of spending an hour every Monday wrestling Gavin to the ground while he screams and cries while I stuff Grace full of goldfish to keep her happy. So twenty minutes into the class I picked Gavin up and carried his writhing and screaming body- while pushing Grace in the stroller with my hips- out of gymnastics. The gym was packed because they are preparing for a meet and everyone stopped and stared and not a single person helped me. Not even when I struggled to open the door while Gavin started hitting me in the face and Grace started shrieking because she dropped her Mickey Mouse (have I mentioned that Grace is obsessed with Mickey Mouse? She is. She sucks his little round nose. I imagine she’ll wean off of me onto Mickey).

I finally got Gavin in the car and he was sobbing and screaming for me to let him go back into gymnastics. He promised he would listen. He promised he would do the class. He promised he would stop crying. I wanted to take him back in and give him another chance but I have threatened over and over again that if he spent another class screaming and crying then we were going home so we were going home.

He sobbed and sobbed the whole way home and begged me to turn the car around. Finally he wailed “Mama! Class is my best friend. It’s my best friend, mama. I love class. I love gymnastics. I want Miss Erica. Gymnastics is my best friend. My best friend, mama.”

So, of course, I did what any other mature mother of two would do and started to cry, as well. I just hate that he is so miserable doing something he loves because of how the dynamics of the class has changed. I know we can find something else he loves and this is just the beginning of the joys of finding out what fits for your child through various ages and stages but I hate to make the decision for him that it is time to quit.

I hate quitting.

Note to self: Do not impose own neuroses on children.

Very perceptive

The boy.

Not only is he a damn fine body paint artist- see exhibit A- he is also very, very perceptive.

Exhibit A



Yesterday morning I was cranky because not only was I sick, but the Goose would not stop nursing or asking to nurse (and by asking I mean pawing at my chest and trying to squeeze herself in between my legs only to slap me across the face when I told her "no". So much for nursing manners) and the Gavinator was doing everything in his power to piss her off even further by kicking her and getting just close enough to her where he wasn't touching her but she couldn't move without touching him. Good times.

Finally I just put my head down and my hands over my ears and screamed.

I looked up to a very shocked Goose and an inquisitive Gavinator.

Gavin leaned in and put his hand on my shoulder and said,

"We drive you nuts, mommy?"







BTW, sorry I have been a bit AWOL but our computer is on the verge of death. When I went to bed last night the husband had the cover off the tower exposing all of it's precious innards that keep my in contact with the rest of the world and allow me to hang onto what little bit of sanity I have left. If the computer doesn't make it, I swear I'm selling a kid to pay for a new one.

Ok, maybe not a kid but I'll definitely pimp out the chihuahua to some chihuahua farm.

A new day

It has come to my attention from several people that since joining Flickr’s 365 days, my blog has started to suck the proverbial arse. I take this oh so constructive criticism two ways:

1. As a compliment. If my blog started to suck the proverbial arse when I began 365 days, then that must mean there was a time when my blog DID NOT suck the proverbial arse. Woo Hoo! Go me!

2. I need to preserve some of my creative energy, time, and camera space for the blog.


I must admit that I have fallen deeply and passionately in love with 365 days. There are some amazing people who take the most wonderful photographs and tell the most insightful and intriguing stories. In the blogosphere, I only read and comment on “mommy blogs” or “baby blogs” because, afterall, I am a mommy blogger. I started this blog with the intent of writing about motherhood and the ins and outs of everything from cracked nipples to potty training to speech delays.

I began 365 days with the intent of telling through pictures and writing who I am and that yes, while I am a mom, there is a lot more to me than that. It has been a liberating journey of self discovery thus far. I know, sounds corny that taking daily pictures of myself at an arm’s length could be anything more than narcissism but it’s true. In 365 days, I find myself following the photographic tales of people from all walks of life- everyone from the college student to the mom of seven to the gay couple who just celebrated their first Christmas legally married after being together for 20 some years.

Between Babycenter and blogging, it seems as though for the past three years I have done nothing but pigeon-hole myself into a mother/child-centric world and while that world is equally as fascinating and important, it has been freeing to remind myself of how the rest of the planet lives.

I don’t know why I cornered myself on this blog to being a strictly happy, bubble-gum, and all “gee aren’t my kids so preshussss and isn’t my husband soooo hawt” blog. I’m like mom pop. I’m the musak of the blogosphere. I think for some reason I felt uncomfortable showing anything but the gummy-gummy gumdrop side of the mommy me on this blog…. like I would be doing my children an injustice if I talked about how badly I want to kick their father in the nuts on a space I dedicated to talking about them.

I hope you don’t mind if I try taking this blog in a little bit of a different direction. Bear with me.

The file grows larger...

File this under things I never thought I would hear/say:



"Do you know what dingleberries are?"

"No, what?"

"You know, when poop gets stuck on your butt hair."

"Oh, yeah.... I hate that."




Tha little gem of a conversation was overheard at work!!!


Oh, and I was also sent an e-mail asking about extended breastfeeding that Blew. My. Mind.

You can read more about it here.

More say formula is "as good as" breast milk

"A growing number of Americans incorrectly believe that infant formula is as good as breast milk, while more are becoming increasingly uncomfortable with mothers breast-feeding their infants in public, the CDC said."

....

"This may at least in part be due to the introduction of formulas that contain long-chain polyunsaturated fatty acids in 2002, the researchers note, which have been advertised as "mimicking the positive influence of breast milk" on brain and vision development. Also, the researchers note, spending on advertising for infant formula rose from $29 million in 1999 to $46 million in 2004"


Read more here.

I don't find this hard to believe at all. Very sad.

Workin' for the weekend

We had a fabulous weekend thanks in part to the simply divine weather. It was sunny with highs in the upper 60’s and bit on the breezy side. There is something about being able to open the windows and let the sunshine and the clean air in that makes living with two ankle biters who want nothing more than to beat the crap out of each other in between asking for something to eat- something that they will either

a. Throw on the floor thus ensuring the Chihuahua and/or vacuum will have a well balanced meal
b. Chew it up and spit it back out this ensuring the Chihuahua and/or vacuum will have a well balanced meal that requires no chewing
c. All of the above


- more bearable.

On Saturday I took the kids shopping and promised if they didn’t touch anything I would take them to the park. The no touching rule lasted for about a nanosecond before I lowered the ante to if they didn’t break anything we would go to the park. I didn’t want to not go to the park because they couldn’t keep their paws off of all the goods and let’s face it, the park is more for the parent than it is for the kid. I mean, sure the kids have fun and all but the parent gets to let their kids run around like crazy in a kid safe area and bonus! There is no cleaning up afterwards! Plus, if you run ‘em good and hard then not only do you get a little calorie burn, the kids will probably nap better and longer and oh holy day, you might actually get a shower.

It didn’t work for me on Saturday but on Sunday I took them to the park, took them on a walk and we went for ice cream so they were really worn out by the time we got home and I was able to enjoy a hot shower for the first time in 48 hours. It is such a cliché but I swear, I never knew how much I would appreciate a shower after becoming a mom. I really don’t think it is something people who aren’t parents can truly understand- the bliss that is the kid free shower. It's right up there with my thinking it would be a GREAT idea to fortify the nation's food supply with Vitamin Z. Sure, I may have thought it was an ok idea before kids but now? GREAT idea.

Sunday evening I had my neighbor and her kids over for a “playdate”. I hate the term “playdate”. I mean, why don’t we call it what it really is? I had my neighbor and her kids over so my neighbor and I could drink a glass or two of wine and have an adult conversation that did not involve telling the other one to move their penis while the kids ran around and beat the crap out of each other thus ensuring an early bedtime (or so we hoped).

Hmmmm, “playdate” is easier to type. I think I’ll just stick with “playdate”.

Say what?

Files this under "things I never thought I would hear/say":

Gavin: "Mommy! She keeps hittin' ma penis!!!!"

Me: "Well get your penis away from her!!!!!"

De-lurking Week!

And I almost missed it!!

I don't make the rules, I'm just the blogging sheep who follows them so come on, leave a little comment.... and if not here, at least on one of the blogs you visit this week.

Feel the love

Another Love Thursday has rolled around and you know what? Either my dosage of Zoloft has been up to the point that I am numb or the kiddos constantly acting like rabid ferrets fighting over a blob of peanut butter has finally gotten to me because I am just not feeling the love.

I mean, sure, I LOVE my kids and my husband and my friends and my family but I'm not feeling especially lovey dovey if you catch my drift. Sure, I could not do a Love Thursday post and just do a standard "dear God please help me not sell my kids to gypsies" post but I did take a picture last night- the last picture I took before Gavin threw my camera onto the ground and broke it- that pretty much sums up the kind of unconditional love I feel for my kiddos:



Because if I can grow 'em, nourish 'em, raise 'em, play with 'em, and do everything I possibly can FOR THEM and they still climb all over me and pull my hair and grab at the boobages when all I want to do is spend five minutes on the Photoshop doing a little something just for ME and I still manage to not sell them to the gypsies?

Then that is love.

Happy Love Thursday.

Photo Skills

Some of my newest photo creations...

Who knew that my camera had macro? Not me! A month or so ago someone on Flickr suggested I do a photo in macro and I was all "I don't know nothin' about no macro" and "is that somethin' on Photoshop?" and they were all "no, it is a feature on the camera" and I was all "my camera doesn't have macro" but then I picked up the instruction manual for my camera and lo and behold, my camera has macro!

I have had the camera for two years and have never read the instructions. In fact, I rarely read the instructions to anything. I'm the shake it up and let the pieces fall where they may kind of person. Perhaps I'm not as technologically impaired as I once thought. Queen of half assing? Yes. Tech impaired? Maybe not. It is amazing what you can do when you actually read the instructions.




This is my newest photoshopped photo entitled "That's beautiful; what is that? Velvet?" It is kind of sort of sucky with the yellow splotchy legs but I really like the crop and the composition and I think the skirt turned out well. I was going for a glowy, warm sheen to the legs (to hide the fact I haven't shaved in a week and I have bruises all over my legs) But I missed the mark. I'm proud of it nonetheless.

Not Your Mother's Milk

Officially a hippie?

While I would definitely give a big, fat negative to someone other than me nursing the Goose (unless it was under dire circumstances... and sitting around in a drum circle with my ta-tas hanging out does not count as dire, in my opinion), I did indirectly wet nurse by providing expressed breast milk for a friend's baby and I must admit this article has several good points:

Formula milk has only been available since the early 1900s. Before then wet-nursing would have happened as a matter of course if the mother was ill or absent. In three generations it has become socially unacceptable.

and

All our objections to wet-nursing, says Shaw, are cultural: "The exchange of body fluids between different women and children, and the exposure of intimate bodily parts make some people uncomfortable. The hidden subtext of these debates has to do with perceptions of moral decency. Cultures with breast fetishes tend to conflate the sexual and erotic breast with the functional and lactating breast."

Oh, and "superlative breasts" is my new favorite phrase.

Playing Favorites

This weekend Gavin told me:

"Thank you for cleaning, mama. You did a GREAT job."

"My dinner is yummy! You make me happy with my yummy dinner."

"I was sad because I missed you. I love my mama."



How stinkin' cute is that?? I tell you if he keeps this up AND starts pooping in the potty, he will totally be my favorite child.

Photoshop

Here it is- my first photoshop project. Yes, it sucks and it is extremely raw around the edges but I'm happy that I was able to conquer "layers" and "selection" by bringing the blue out of the black and white photo and separating myself from the background. I wanted to place my self on a starry night background but I didn't have the time to figure it out. Or rather, Gavin started drawing all over himself AND the living room wall and I decided my time was better spent elsewhere..... say supervising the boy's own artistic endeavors.

Love Thursday- The Kiss

Last night I was in a foul mood. I don't know if it is holiday fallout or what but I have been feeling tired and strained and in serious need of some "me time". It all came to a head last night when I was trying to take my self portrait for the Flickr 365 days pool. I had an image in mind for what I was trying to capture- curled up in the fetal position with a forlorn expression on my face- but Grace and Gavin took advantage of my back up in the air and both started climbing on my back and wanting me to "giddy up" because not only am I their mom, I am their personal pony.

I tried to get them off me and raised my voice and told them to just "go away". I mean, I don't ask for much! All I wanted was a few seconds to take a picture for a little hobby 'o mine (and by hobby, I mean obsession) and for the love of all things that are holy, please stop climbing on me and Grace, would you please stop trying to get down my shirt!!!!!

In true kid fashion, they did not heed my request to "go away" and instead, I just chilled the eff out and let them play on me. I'm glad I did. Grace started asking for a kiss (a "diss") and I was able to snap some lovely captures of our kisses. It's not going to be too much longer before she is totally icked out by kisses from her mommy- especially the mouth kisses! It was perfect timing as I had my camera handy. We all snuggled and played and Gavin asked for a "group hug" and sitting there all lovey dovey with the kiddos, my entire mood changed.

Of course, the moment was fleeting. Soon the Goose and the Gavinator began beating the crap out of each other which led to them chasing each other around the house which led to Gavin puking pizza up all over the dining room (anyone know how to get pizza puke stains out of carpet?) which led to the dog peeing in the living room which led to me getting totally stressed out and snapping at the husband which led to me wanting to curl up in the fetal position all over again.

Needless to say the fetal position pic ended up my picture of the day as it best summed up my day 28:



But were it not for my kiddos, I wouldn't have had these moments captured on film. I wouldn't have had the dark cloud lifted from my soul for even a few precious minutes.









Motherhood- life for that matter- is not always some wondrous and beautiful thing in which every nano second is enjoyed. There are days when the bad outweighs the good... the puke and poop outweights the hugs and kisses... the feelings of "leave me alone" outweigh the feelings of "come a little closer"... the tears outweigh the smiles.

But the amazing thing about motherhood?

There is always sweet, sweet love.

Besides, if it weren't for the dark times, would I really appreciate the light?


Happy Love Thursday.

Welcome Home, Honey

What you don't want to hear when you get home from work:



"Don't use the toilets. I'm going to Lowes."

Behold the power of T.V.

Well, the powers of DVD, anyway,

When shopping for the Gavinator for Christmas, I decided tis the season for learning the alphabet- or as Gavin calls it, “my letters”. I bought him the Leap Frog Letter Factory and the Leap Frog Learning Refrigerator DJ to go along with all his other Leap frog alphabet learning toys that have been handed down from neighbors and cousins.

Now before you get all “lazy parenting” up on me for using annoying electronic devices to teach my child his letters, I have been trying to teach him his letters the old fashioned way. I sing the alphabet song to him while brushing his teeth and I read alphabet books. I point out letters on billboards and signs we are out and about and in preschool, he learns a letter a week which I reinforce at home.

That said, the Leap Frog Letter factory is a far better parent or teacher than I will ever be. He fell in love with the DVD at fist sight and if it was up to him, we would watch it on continuous loop from sun up to sundown (and maybe… just maybe…last Saturday when I was home alone with the kids ALL day and it was raining ALL day, I may have just let him do that. I may have. And by may, I mean did. So sue me.).

When he wakes up in the morning he asks to watch “his letters” and sometimes when I deny him he cries “but mama! I want to LEARN my letters!!!!!” What do I say? No, you can’t learn? No, you can’t sit still and be quiet while watching a video that not only teaches you your letters but also keeps our house peaceful because you’re too busy learning to beat up your sister?

I am only human, people. That video has been burning up our DVD players since Christmas morn. Folks, it has beat out Cars as the DVD that must be played over and over again until mama finally breaks down and gets her dosage of Zoloft upped.

Although, sure, it may be annoying but I kid you not, the Gavinator KNOWS his letters. He doesn’t know it in an “I can sing my ABC’s” kind of way. He knows it in a “can point to any letter and tell you what it is and what sound it makes” kind of way. He is obsessed with letters. He sits and watches me draw letters while he says what they are because he WANTS to, not because I’m trying to hold him down and convince him that learning is fun and please learn so that you can grow up and get a full scholarship to a fancy school and make a ton of money and support me and your father. Please. I mean, not to brag, but he is so good at his letters, it's only going to be a short time before Gavin is spray painting explicitives on government property.

This isn’t the first time I have resigned myself to the fact an inanimate object is a far better parent than I.

Or is it me? Is there a Leap Frog Grammar Factory?

Oh my

Cereal in a bottle?

Could millions of Feeding Choices Debate Board posters be wrong?.

Happy New Year

I hope everyone had a safe and happy new year. I can't believe that it is already 2007.

Two thousand and seven marks my ten year anniversary as a college graduate. I went on for two more years to get my Master's so it doesn't technically mark my anniversary as leaving the college life to go out into the real world, but it is a milestone nonetheless.

It feels like yesterday...

Ten years before ten years ago I was eleven years old and in the sixth grade. It felt as though it took a hundred years to get from there to a college graduate but it only feels like a minute to get from a college graduate to here. Why is that?

We had a nice new year's celebration. We thought we were going to spend a cozy evening at home but at the last minute we were invited to a party we couldn't pass up. We got home from the party around 10:00-ish so we could put the monsters in bed and then the husband and I battled it out on the Trivial Pursuit board.






I won by default because we wanted to move on to *ahem* other things *ahem* rather than finish the game.

I was hoping the kids would sleep in because they got to bed so late but apparently God hates me because they did that weird kid thing where the later they go to bed, the earlier they wake up and I spent most the day in a haze- just playing on the computer and breaking up their wrestling matches until it was time for the Gator Bowl to start.

My alma mater- West Virginia University- battled Georgia Tech in the Gator Bowl and there were several moments when I thought we were going to get our Mountaineer butts handed to us on a platter but lo and behold, we pulled through to victory.



I missed most of the game because Gavin wanted to go outside and play and I wanted to indulge him. I remember when I was a kid and my dad would spend his weekends watching football and I HATED IT! I hated it with a passion. I didn't understand football and I thought it was boring and for the life of me I never got why when he told me there were only two minutes left in the game, it would take 30 minutes for the game to be over.

I love watching me some Mountaineer football but I love watching me in this:



a lot more.

I know it all goes to fast... and it really is the little things.

Happy New Year, friends.

Amanda.