loved by the sun

What is the difference between the horn of a unicorn and a lock of Sonny's curly hair? 

If you ask Elyott she'd give you an endless array of very logical contrasts. But to me (and i speak for mothers all across the land) there is none. Every mother who is in denial about the ridiculousness of her son's hair has her own breaking point. For me it wasn't the 95% of strangers who ooh and ahh over my "adorable baby girl". People are just idiots (myself included). My moment of clarity came when a nice petite lady at church picked him up and his Willy Wonka fro made him look like a freaky giant Maury Povich baby.

My children have big heads, there is no way around that. But i gotta throw a kid a bone when homeboy starts to dwarf adults.

This kid is pushing 16 months and still doesn't walk or say any words (although i am pretty sure he is fluent in French?). Yet he has a full head of luscious Renesmee hair making it harder and harder to live up to his age (and gender). So I held my breath and decided to give his crazy white boy coif a little snip...and guess what??

...he is still Sonny, his hair is still curly...and and much to my maternal delight the light of the universe was not destroyed

team Boo 's you

you are my sunshine giveaway...

Apparently I am the only mother on the planet who has never heard of a frozen cloth to soothe a baby's teething gums. Feel free to let me in on more mothering tips I should know (but don't) over here. You could win $100 bucks!

team Boo 's you


if i had a hammer.

Most of my projects are done without shoes (and are finished by Adam). There's a really obvious dirty joke in there that i'm much too ladylike to make, but just barely. When i wake up in a project-y mood, i hit the ground running. So unless i sleep in my shoes, i will be barefoot. Plus i live in Arizona so we can do that 75% of the year (but the other 25% of the time they will be sizzled to the bone).
This week i cut and cleared out the negative space underneath the stairs to make a "secret hideout" for my kids slash place where nerdy magicians can sleep. After Adam installed the electrical (cause i don't mess with that crap) I started installing drywall...yes, barefoot. Sheamus hammered everything in sight while Elyott cleared out the screws and old soda cans left by the builders years ago. When my kids asked why there were soda cans in the walls i told them it was because the little mice had a party. Neither of them thought it was cute that i said that. Just scary. So i told them the boring truth...they never get my jokes. 

Speaking of my kids thinking i'm annoying, they also don't appreciate when i try to cheer them up by humming (actually "bling-blinging") the sad Charlie Brown tune when they are pouting with their heads hung theatrically low. Or when i start singing a lullaby in my (gorgeous) normal voice, but then my Clarabelle the cow voice takes over and makes every song hilarious for everyone involved (me). But I think they secretly love that one. 

Anyway, I am excited to finish the hideout because then Sonny can actually play downstairs again without the risk of him sucking on a nasty old Fanta can. And then i won't keep getting dust in the painful split that has developed in my big toe. I know what you're thinking...I could just start wearing shoes. But much like my immature parenting tactics, you could also ask: where is the entertainment...the being so sensible? 

That's what i thought.

team Boo 's you


i'll take those odds.

If you haven't already (and since there are only 12 of you who have entered, that most likely includes you) go check out my $100 Babies R Us giveaway. Unless you don't like free stuff...or babies. Which would both not only be lame, but fundamentally inhuman, no?

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all day long i'd biddy biddy bum...

{my kids doing the "free-est" thing there is. yay crayons.}

The following conversations took place in the very same day:

Sheamus: "Mom, can we have a sale?" (a fudge, otter pop, lemmy he sometimes earns money for a toy he is saving up for)
Me: "sorry charlie, not today."
Sheamus: "awe man, but I just love money money money!"
Me: (break out into muffled radio voice) "the best things in life are free. but you can give them to the birds and bees, i want MONEY. that's what i want."
Sheamus: (total confusion)
Elyott: "There is this boy in my class who is in a contest to win like a thousand dollars. If he wins, then ALL the pretty girls will like him!"

Me: (speechless)

There appears to be a very delicate line between trying hard to make sure my kids realize the value of money and making them straight up obsessed with it. I try to make sure that going to a store does not always end with a toy. Or that as a family we have to wait for special occasions to be "fancy" (for instance, buying drinks with our drive through order) One time while at our friend's house (a fancy friend's house) they ordered a pizza and had it delivered. Elyott's jaw just about hit the floor.

Now I know there is a natural correlation that can be drawn at a very young age that money = entertainment, stuff and convenience. But screw you reality TV (and the music industry) for making it so obvious to my second grader that even the jankiest of wealthy men have flocks of beautiful woman vying for their affections. It's a disgrace i tell you! see Elyott, regardless of how much a man can earn...ugly girls like money too.

team Boo 's you


please don't take my sunshine away.

Sonny grew some teeth!
...and he told* me to tell you it sucked.

For a chance to win a $100 Babies R Us gift card from BlogHer, go here and leave a comment for my question for you on teething.

 ...then read about how teamBoo made it through!

team Boo 's you

*via head butt to my chin.


dirty deeds act one: demolition

When i was little we had a "playhouse" in our side yard. It was a bare bones shed with no drywall or insulation that housed our barbie "mansion" (old changing table) and all other dolls too ugly to be in the house (more Detroit than Malibu Barbie). One day i decided to make a change. With my eight year old resources, i set to work...


That was my genius plan. I started before i thought it through (of course) and i finished the diagonal purple and green stripes (a color scheme that my even my young mind realized were similar to the "Joker" colors and hated immediately) on about 1/10th of the wall before i quit. It stayed that way until the day we moved 4 years later.

On Monday when i asked Adam when we could start on the basement renovations he said "in the next few weeks." Does he even know me at all?? Once he left for school I went downstairs to assess the situation. About 10 minutes later i was knocking out walls with a hack saw and my bare feet. But not before i handed Elyott my cell phone to call 911 just incase i electrocuted myself (the "genius" element of my grownup story. nice mother.) Sheamus jumped around my reckless abandon shouting awesome one liners like: "mom! i am SO impressed!" and "wow, you are wild!" or my fave "you are such a good PERSON!!" (I love when kids lack the vocabulary to express themselves like a regular boring adult...or "humans" as Sheamus would call them.)

Anyway my point is, what turned out as a totally impulsive remodel, unlike my failed childhood attempts...I finished! And by "remodel" i mean the smashing of things like a crazy person, and by "finished" i mean there aren't any half standing walls or rusty nails left on the playroom floor. My bruised heels are proof that ain't no contest loss that can take this odd jobs down. 

Total butch-style demolition: check.

team Boo 's you



Imagine while you look at these pictures my kids whining the whole time:
"this huuuurts!"
"my legs are tired!!"
"the sun is so bright!" (we were standing in the shade)
"stop saying Sonny's name daddy!"

That pretty much summed up how awesome they acted all day. 
In your faces though children because I choose to take this as a compliment. 
Why you ask?
Because now i know that you know that since i am such a beacon of patience and understanding of your age appropriate didn't even get punched one time :)

team Boo 's you


dirty bit.

Sometimes i am inspired to blog based on a song. In the summer time i morph into a twangy idiot have something to look forward to there. Yesterday while Elyott was in the shower and Sheamus in the adjacent bath, much to my delight i overheard this glorious conversation:

Elyott: "Sheamus listen to this song i made up....(to the tune of Dirty Dancing's 'I've had the time of my life')....Ching. Chong. Ping ling ching wing woooong. ching chang pang ti tang ting ling ling looong...."

Sheamus: "whoa, i didn't know you knew Chinese!?"

Thank you Will-I-am for getting my kids up to speed.  

So...what are you listening to? I need some inspiration! I am drawn to female lead singers (a little electronic feel is a bonus). I love music. too bad my "mom bones" have eroded my dance moves. You know when they say if you make a stupid face and someone pats you on the back it will stick like that? Well, the same goes for dancing. If you "joke dance" long enough and then birth a child, your skills freeze in time and suddenly you can only think of two moves ever and when you do them you look like you are having a (sexy) seizure. 

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clap your hands and say yeah.

{via glo}

It is time to vote friends!

If you want to see teamBoo's basement "epically made over" head over here to vote for us! We are number 34 (look for our family pic) and you can vote once per IP address. Go now because voting ends tuesday and if your anything like me the second you leave here that sneaky internet will wave something else shiny in your face and you'll forget. 

Why should you vote for us?? Besides the basement party that you will all be invited to? and our serious lack of fundage? Because otherwise i will start the project and then get seriously sidetracked by something really dumb and impulsive like cleaning out all my window wells with a steam cleaner and then Adam will make fun of me for the janky half finished playroom. Like last week, i started taking out the cabinets in the bar area. But i'm such a spaz cause i never want to prep stuff before i start. So instead of taking all the stuff out or moving the millions of giant tripping hazard toys out of my way, i just got the drill and started taking out screws. Then once i realized the shelf weighed like 600 pounds and i didn't have the right drill bits, i lost steam and waited until someone more focused (adam) could help me a couple days later :) 

I'm like that "if you give a mouse a cookie" book personified (only i'm more like the "pig a pancake" one?)

So if we don't win, it will be still be made over...but not EPICALLY. And "epically" is the operative word for this transition to not drag out for the next 2 1/2 years*. GO now! and thank you kindly.
team Boo 's you
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