My little trouble maker

Our fear in having 2 daughters has always been that the toddler is going to be the quiet one.  If you know the toddler then you know that there is not a quiet bone in her body.  She is constantly moving, singing, dancing and all at a volume and pitch that brings all the dogs to the yard.  I am fairly certain that my ears bleed at times.

Every time the toddler yells, the baby is not to be outdone and mimics whatever the toddler is doing..  It's super fun in the car. 

And I think our fears are going to be realized as the baby is the daredevil.  She has no fear.  Her favorite activities are to steal dog food from the dish in the kitchen and then when I get up to dig the food out of her mouth she crawls as fast as she can to the dog crate, crawls in, and closes the door.  She also has figured out how to crawl up the 2 stairs to the powder room and she will go in there, in the dark, and shut the door so that she can unravel the toilet roll and play with the toddler's little potty.  I know.  It grosses me out, too.  And then today she crawled into the dishwasher.  I am fairly certain her Godmother is preparing to call social services. 

If you follow me on Instagram or Twitter (Blessed_Jenn is my name on both) then you will see all her antics.  Little stinker!

Obsession: Theo James and The Rock

You know why movies like Twilight and Hunger Games and Divergent are so popular...not because millions of screaming young girls go to see them.  No, no, no.  It's because bored, stay at home moms flock to the theaters in droves to spend time remembering how it was to be young, and hot, and sexy, and cool. 

My friend and I went to see Divergent last month.  I had just read the book and she had read the whole series.  I put on my mom jeans, my nursing tank top, and Toms shoes and off we went.  A giant bucket of popcorn later and we were settled in for the movie. 

OMG.  I didn't really like the lead female actress.  I just didn't buy her as the love interest of

Holy hotness on a stick.  In case you didn't recognize him he also played Mr. Pamuk on Downton Abbey (the guy that Mary killed with her hot sex). 

For years  awhile Dwayne Johnson has been numbers 1 through 5 on my list.  I mean come on

LOOK AT HIM.  I mean he's not as sexy as my husband, but he's up there.  I'm not gonna lie.  I may be willing to lick sweat off his body.  Or not.  I'm just saying.  Apparently he has a house near us and I have already told my hubby that if I met him I was going to sleep with him.  Why wouldn't The Rock want The Marshmellow in his bed?

Seeing Theo James in Divergent has taken over one spot in my list.  Sorry Dwayne.  Even if you have zero interest in seeing Divergent for the movie itself, get yourself some wine in a plastic water bottle and head over to the theater.  You will not regret it.  That is actually how I've seen most of Dwayne's movies. 

Now if you'll excuse me I need to go watch Journey 2: The Mysterious Island.

Obsession: Target

Every women in the world loves Target.  There is something about that glowing red bullseye that brings joy to the hearts of millions of stay at home moms everywhere.  And if you don't love Target because you have to be all different then don't admit that.  It just makes it seem like there's something unnatural about you.  I know you're probably tempted to comment on here about how you only shop small business or giant box stores or who gives a crap.  I'm here to tell you that the 5 other people that read this blog will judge you.  They will judge you harshly. 

Much like the high from a crack pipe, when you enter Target you lose all sense of time and responsibility.  I'm here to tell you how to get out with your dignity intact...or at least alive and without sacrificing a month's pay in one trip.

1)  If you have to bring your screaming heathen children with you then I suggest you bypass the toy aisles.  Generally on the left side of the store after the electronics, trust me when I say there is nothing you need over there.  Your kid does not need an overpriced, but on sale Disney Princess or a pool toy for the pool you don't have (You aren't gonna use the community pool that much.  Let go of that thought right now.  It's going to be hot.  You're fat.  And they don't let you bring alcohol to the pool.  Move on.  Move on I say!).  They keep the dollar bins on the same side.  You grab your cart and you run.  Run right by there!  You don't need a plastic basket that you think will look cute in your bathroom.  It won't.  No one needs a plastic basket.  Your kids have enough crayons.  Just because they are $1 does not mean you need them.  Be strong. 

2)  If by some miracle of the Holy One upstairs you get to go to Target sans children do not go to the clothing aisle.  Yes, those 5 for $25 Mossimo tank tops seem like a good deal, but unless you  have arms like Michelle Obama and a stomach like a Victoria's Secret model then they aren't for you.  If you must go into the clothing aisle then be wary.  They have a discreetly marked maternity section and it will trick you.  You'll feel like you won the lottery when you find that super cute blouse that covers up your 5 kids and 50 lbs overweight midsection until you realize that you've stumbled into the maternity section.  Don't cry.  It's happened to all of us and no one wants to see the ugly cry in the middle of Target.  There is no crying in Target.

When your husband asks why you were gone for 5 hours when you said you were just running to the store, mumble something about your period, tampons, and long lines.  His eyes will glaze over as he searches desperately for an escape.  Men do not like to hear about menstrual anything.   Laugh wickedly as he runs upstairs.

3)  Don't be scared to have ask your cashier to ring up 15 separate orders so you can use your gift cards from purchasing 8 boxes of diapers and 17 cans of formula on 25 separate orders.  That shits expensive.   You gotta save money where you can.  Ignore the glares of the working class citizens who mistakenly thought they could run to Target on their lunch break.  It's important that they learn how stupid they are.  Target during the day is for stay at home moms.  We don't go into their offices and muck things up during the day.  If they dare to make a snarky comment then whip out a boob and start breastfeeding right there at the cash register.  That will make them think twice about opening their mouth. 

4)  Somehow Target has teemed up with Starbucks to offer additional crack in their stores.  Plan your trips to Target according to when you need a Starbucks pick me up.  And if you use your Redcard you get 5% off so it's practically free.  Get 2 lattes.  Hell, get 3.  You deserve something to keep you from killing yourself later when your beautiful spawns of the devil refuse to nap because they can sense how tired you are from their middle of the night choir of hysterical crying.  Their crying.  Heck, who are we kidding.  You were probably crying right along with them. 

5)  Get the cartwheel app on your phone.  Why yes you do need those new outdoor pillows that are 15% off with the cartwheel app.  Again, with the additional 5% off from using your Redcard they are free.  Free I tell you!  It's simple mathematics.  If you stick to buying things that you find on the cartwheel app then you will save money AND have a beautifully decorated home by Threshhold for Target as well as more Market Pantry snacks than you could ever use.  While they probably aren't the healthiest snacks in the world statistically speaking your kid is probably going to be obese from your weekly trips to Chik Fil A anyways so who cares.   

If you follow my 5 simple rules then your trips to Target will be much simpler and more pleasant.  Thank you for shopping at Target.

Obsession: Cadbury Eggs

I started to think about all the things I've become obsessed with over the years.  Much of it centers around reality tv and celebrities, but that is neither here nor there.  When you are a stay at home mommy you have to find things to occupy your mind other than whose pooped and who needs to poop.  Sure I could learn something new or be productive, but what fun is that.

Since the Easter candy season is upon, I have been gorging myself on Cadbury Eggs.

I know they sell them pretty much year round now, but there is something wrong about eating a Cadbury Egg at Halloween.  I save them for Easter only so that they're special...

Now I don't eat just regular old Cadbury Eggs. 

You have not LIVED until you've had a chocolate Cadbury Egg.  It has to be better than crack.  Possibly even better than Target.  Gasp.  Shock.  I know, I know!  But trust me.  Run, don't walk, to CVS or the grocery and buy as many of these heavenly goodies as you can.  Your mouth will thank you. 

And then in looking up Cadbury Egg pictures (again, could be doing so much more with my time) I came across this glory...

Surely this is a gift from God himself.  A brownie with a Cadbury Egg baked into it.  OMG.  In an effort to stay less than 300 lbs I will be walking to the local Food Lion today to purchase brownie mix so that I can make these tonight.  If hubby is lucky I will even make him some without the glory that is the Cadbury Egg because he doesn't like them (I don't know what's wrong with him either).  Here is the link to the website with the recipe.  Seems pretty straight forward.  Probably putting icing on them will send me into a diabetic coma, but I am willing to risk it for you, my loyal readers, all 4 of you. 

In other shocking news, I have not had Starbucks since March 10th.  Gasp.  I know!  I gave it up for Lent.  I know Lent started the 5th.  I was driving to and from Florida by myself with my 2 young children and there was no way on earth I was doing that without Starbucks.  I'm not gonna lie.  I may tear up a little every time I pass the Starbucks at Target without stopping, but I feel good.  I mean hello if I can't give up Starbucks for God then there is something wrong with me.  I thought about giving up wine, but come on.  Everyone has limits.  And Jesus drank wine.  He wouldn't want me to suffer. 

I hear the baby in her crib.  I guess I should go get her.  She is staring straight up at the monitor.  I'm pretty sure she knows I am watching her. 

Snow

I'm watching the 10 o'clock news and they are talking about the snow as if it has snowed 8 feet here in Virginia.

First off, schools were closed today and are already closed tomorrow. WTF! I took my toddler and 2 dogs for a walk this afternoon. 

Secondly,  don't interview people who are digging their cars out of 1/2 inch of snow with a snow shovel. Seriously? !?!  Of course the UVA med school resident they talked to hoped he'd be able to get his car out. Out of what?  There's hardly any snow!

Maybe it's just because we moved here from MA and have more snow experience but come on VA! I remember going out to lunch in the snow and my car sliding down a hill because of the streets being so snowy.

The hubby even got sent home early today.

That's my rant.

Mommy Got Screwed

 

The hubby was off work this morning and under his watchful eye THIS happened to the baby.  No, that's not blood.  She ate a crayon and by ate, well part of that seems self explanatory, used her mouth to draw all over the carpet.  Maybe she is an artist and has created a new medium of mouth art on carpet.  This all occurs while I am COOKING him breakfast and making the toddler's lunch as he checks facebook.

I then believe the hubby has a meeting at 10am and he was told graciously offered to take the dogs to the kennel on his way.  As I am trying to herd a very reluctant toddler out the door he asks about the baby "You're taking her with you, right?"  I think  he has to leave so I say yes.  

Drive to school, get both kids in, change the toddler's shoes, wash her hands, bundle the baby back into the car, and head home.  

Guess who is still home?  THE HUBBY!  

So, A) you could've kept the baby or B) you could've taken the toddler to school!  

Being a single parent is hard.  And as such I've already left the hubby to a friend in my will so I know that he and the girls will be taken of.  

Easy Bake Oven Fail

In our infinite parenting wisdom, Santa brought the toddler an easy bake oven. She loves to bake and the 8+age range did not deter us in our quest to make our little girl happy.

Foolishly we did not realize her interest in baking in the easy bake would last approximately 3 and 1/2 minutes and not the 30 minutes the entire process takes. Hubby and I have baked a lot of VERY tiny desserts.

Yesterday the toddler and I made chocolate chip cookies. I use the words chocolate chip and cookies loosely.

The dough was supposed to make 12 cookies. Perhaps the fact that as I turned to spray the pan the toddler started shoveling raw dough into her mouth kept us from that goal, but I failed to see how 12 cookies could have even fit onto a pan the size of my palm. 

I gamely rolled out the dough (again a very loose interpretation of the word dough) into 8 balls and squished them onto the pan.

We waited the 9 minutes, our anticipation high. The directions depicted big, fluffy cookies. 

The timer went off. I'll let the picture speak for itself.

Massage

Every year for my birthday the hubby gets me a spa gift certificate and I LOVE IT!  It might take me 6 months to actually use, but I still know it's there, sitting like a special secret, just waiting for my desperation for alone time to reach def com five. 

Before we left for Florida I used the mani/pedi portion of my gift AND scheduled my massage for today.  Lying there I started to think about how odd professional massages are.  You are lying NAKED (or near naked) on a table while someone rubs oil onto your body.  I mean you are half way from an encounter with a hooker (if the masseuse was naked you'd only have 1/4 left to go).

I've had some awesome massages (today included) and some sketchy massages and, as tempted as I was, I have never been to any of those places advertised on billboards along I75 (but if you know someone who has PLEASE let me know)...you know those places that advertise parking for truckers and private rooms (I've never had a massage that wasn't in a private room so not sure why THAT is a big draw).  Perhaps my next drive down south I'll make a little pit stop to see what's going on up in there.

When I lived in Cincy I went with  my former mother in law for massages.  All we knew is that one of us had a female and one of us had a male.  Being an older, proper woman she did not want the male and as I watched the flamboyantly gay male walk through the room to get his next client I volunteered for the male, assuming that it would be him. 

I heard my name called and looked up expecting to see my oh so gay masseuse.  Um, not so much.  He was hot with a capital H.  Like the kind of hot that if he offered you a happy ending you would've said yes.  And all I could think about was I should've shaved, I should've showered, I shouldn't have worn these granny panties...FOR THE ENTIRE MASSAGE.  Needless to say I did not get a happy ending.  Sigh.

Another time my friend Mary, who had never had a massage, booked us to get massages and facials.  She got her massage while I got my facial and then we switched.  Well, the masseuse was a man and I spent the entire massage wondering if my nipples were showing because he had covered them with a washcloth so that he could massage my stomach (what is that!) and then waiting to be molested.  Let's just say that Chester the Molester did NOT make me feel relaxed.  He was close enough that one slip of the finger and let's just say the police may have been involved.

Luckily I've gained enough weight that massaging my stomach is no longer even offered.  I'm glad because that shit is weird.

And my fave of all times is getting a massage back home, totally naked, the female masseuse holds the sheet up so I can roll over and as my naked self is rolling over she says, "Did you go to Venice High School?"  Um, yes.  Not sure why seeing me naked made you recognize me seeing as you went to the alternative school AND weren't even in my graduating class, but were a year younger.  I guess when you are this fabulous...(the other options were too horrifying to contemplate).

I still love me a massage though.  

Now excuse me while I finish my wine and pistachios.  

2014

Happy New Year!  In true fashion I am only 3 days late in wishing everyone happy new year.  Sigh.  And you may have noticed that I haven't blogged in a coons age.  There have been a lot of times that I intend to blog, but I have been lazy. 

It's easy to lose yourself as a mom.  Your days are spent making breakfast, making lunches, breastfeeding, feeding, laundry, whatever cleaning you can squeeze in, and making dinner.  I am uber impressed with mom's who are motivated to do other things like blog and work out and not look homeless.  When I drop the toddler off at school I generally look like I'm rolling up after an all night kegger at the frat house.  Sigh. 

So this year I am finding myself again.  2014 is going to be the year of me.  Well as me as I can get with 2 small children to care for.  I am starting with a facebook hiatus for the month of January.  I just read something that said social media is as addictive as gambling and I believe that.  My days started and ended with checking my facebook, not to mention all the parts in the middle.  I feel like I can't even be stopped at a traffic light without picking up my phone and that is not the person I want to be.  I want social media to be a fun diversion, not my whole life. 

We have been in Florida for 2 weeks and head home on Sunday.  It has been fun, but I am ready to get home although I sort of am wondering what craziness possessed me when I thought I could drive home with just the girls and myself.  The hubby asked me on the trip down, when both girls were crying, if I was still glad I decided to drive home without him.  Um, hell no.  I made a poor choice.  Oh well.  We'll make it. 

The toddler will be 3 before we know it and the baby is the size of most 1 year olds.  And even though I haven't slept in 3.5 years and I look like an old hag I wouldn't change any of it. 

And hopefully I can start blogging regularly again.