one sweet day.

After one's initial baby shower, all other subsequent ones are really just a reason for friends to get together with the mother-to-be before she is forced back into lactating hybernation (...or crotch rehab. or sleepless stay-cation. or hormonal prison...whatever you fancy). So last weekend when my sister Lisa was having her "last-girl-time-for-a-long-time-lunch-time" for her 4th baby we, as wise old seasoned mothers, decided it would be at a restaurant. without games. and without our previously fully celebrated kids. 

Elyott, being in between the kid age and pre-teen years, was crushed.

So, a couple hours before we had to leave, my mah-dre (pronounced with no accent) and i decided to take her to the nail salon for some cliche 80's movie montage girl time (cue the Cyndi Lauper on your walkman). 

Elyott and i waited forever! Do i have a weak chin? Was it the blue collar callouses on my hands? Like dogs and fear, i swear those nail techs knew that I had like seven dollars in my bank account...but those seven dollars were gonna pay for them to paint my daughter's chewed off nails in whatever hooker nail color she wanted gosh darnit! ("i said here's your one chance fancy don't let me dowwwwn") Instead of complaining, and to keep Elyott from playing with the freaky wax display hands, I decided to make a little "mommy daughter time" of my own. 

So just for funsies i jacked the cut off plastic tips from my moms acrylics (who by no coincidence does not have a students budget and got in right away. hmmm.) snuck some super glue and applied them shamelessly to elyott's fingernails. We painted them sparkly purple and spent the rest of the time taking pictures of her two finger eye frame posing and pretending to scratch the air with her two inch claws. If they were gonna ignore us then the least they could do was be cool with me using their scraps to play "jersey shore" with my 8 year old. They kinda were. But I'm pretty sure they were talking smack in another language at that really low decibel that only other nail techs and earth worms can detect. 

The best part of it all was when the owner guy came over to see if i was "still waiting for my polish" (code for "i can see you using my supplies you free loader") and then sat down at a nearby station to open some drawers and shut them like he was looking for something, I totally heard him softly singing along to the Mariah Carey they had playing in the background (the only american music that truly deserves all the gold and grandeur of a nail salon). To break the ice I playfully let him know that i totally just busted him singing along. He might have liked me a littIe more after that. Or maybe just the opposite? either one. 

After that Elyott forgot all about wanting to go to the baby shower and instead was excited to go show everyone her new nails that would completely retard her abilities for the next 45 minutes until she would desperately tear them off. And i was able to go to the baby shower kid free!

Oh and also i figured out why people can tell I am a teensie low budge.

team Boo ♥'s you

movin' on up.

The other day when i told Sheamus i wanted to "wrap him like a present and gobble him up" he looked at me with one part horror, one part disgust and two parts complete confusion, and it donned on me....he is totally ready for Kindergarten.


Recently Sheamus's preschool teacher (who is fantastic in every way) made a very sweet public comment about mine and Adam's parenting style. Since I know it's not polite to deflect such a compliment, Adam and I just laughed to ourselves at what a good job Sheamus has done making people think his total sweetness has anything to do with us. If he were my first child it would be easy to dupe myself into thinking I was doing everything right (teaching manners, empathy, and good nature). A beacon of patience and wisdom if you will. But in reality, I am just feeling lucky i haven't corrupted him with my tarnished soul.

It has been invaluable having him primarily home with me for the last 5 1/2 years. I'm grateful for his late birthday so i could keep him one year longer (hands rubbing greedily together). But now its time for him to move on from the kung fu grip of this adoring mother. If for nothing else than to escape the possibility of this creepshow life. 

Love you face.

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 STORY...in being so sensible? 

That's what i thought.

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 so...you 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. 

team Boo ♥'s you

monkey see monkey do.

As excruciating as it is to see my facial expressions on camera (although the quality here is ridiculously terrible), it still makes me laugh to watch this. Adam used to always do this to me when we were dating when i got mad about something, and it would always make me laugh (he knows better than to do this to me after 10 years together ;) But he still does it to the kids every now and then...they think its funnoying (funny and mostly annoying) but that's what parents are for, right?

team Boo ♥'s you


p.s. Isn't it weird to see blog friends on camera?? I think it is...especially when they sound deaf. Like i do here. (promise that isn't how i talk...not that there is anything wrong with that!)