Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Ex. 1
Me: Colin, I'm about five seconds away from flipping you the bird so if you don't want to see it, you should look away.
Cason: What bird, Mom? What bird are you going to flip to Daddy? Where does the bird live?

Ex. 2
Me: Colin, if you even mention taking down all the Christmas decorations before I get everything unpacked and laundry done, I will kick you in the balls.
Cason: Mom, you shouldn't kick Daddy in the balls.

In other news, don't Colin and I talk nice to each other? It's how we show our love.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

...And it makes me a little sad because no asked me if she could get bigger.

I wonder how long she'll be willing to wear a shirt that says, "Christmas Baby." My guess is not much longer. For everyone that has a "Christmas Baby" can I just say, it's kind of like a club isn't it? We get to sit around and complain about the woes of having a birthday party and then turning around a few days later and having Christmas (or vice versa). And any time when any one complains about their kids birthday, we think to ourselves, "Yeah, talk to me when your kid shares a birthday with Jesus."

But I love it. And one day, it will give her a reason to be mad at us. When people ask what we were thinking having a baby this time of year, we say, "Uh...we weren't thinking about having a baby this time of year."

We brought you home from the hospital in the middle of a blizzard after an 11 day power outage. From those first days, you have made your presence known. You're my little Christmas baby and I love you.

Tuesday, December 08, 2009

So this one time, I went to the grocery store and I lost my coupons. I realized it when I got up to the cash register. I didn't know if it would be dumb to try and go find my coupon file or not. I got pretty teary eyed, I won't lie. But the next day, I called the store and some kind soul had turned it into lost and found and got my coupons back. Great story, yes?

Now imagine that story but replace "coupons" with "daughter."

And "teary eyed" with "hysterical."

However, I did not have to wait until the next day when someone turned her into lost and found to get her back.

See, I have one of those kids that likes to run away and hide in stores. She does it LOTS. And most of the time, it's fine because she either runs two feet away from me or her dad is with us. But today, it got slightly out of hand. It was just her and me at Target. She started to dart away (because HEAVEN FORBID she stay in a cart without climbing out of it!) and within ten seconds, she was gone. Like gone gone.

I was walking ALL OVER yelling her name, and getting more and more hysterical. About the time I was going to totally lose it, a worker said, "Did you lose your kid? What does she look like? What is she wearing?" And, literally, within 10 seconds EVERY TARGET WORKER was looking for Kendall. (I apologize if you were shopping there today...). The "Code Yellow" was announced over the loud speaker. If you have to lose a kid, you want it to be at Target. They have a system down. I give them serious props. The manager told me to go to guest services (ok, do you see how long this story is getting? Kendall was missing THE WHOLE TIME) and wait and they would bring her to me. I said no way! I had to look for her! At this point, I had visions of news anchors saying, "heartbreaking" and Oprah talking to me on satellite about the time I let my daughter out of the shopping cart and she disappeared forever.

She finally convinced me to go and as I was walking over there, I heard someone yell from across the store, "I found her!"

The nice woman who found her brought her to me. Kendall was hiding in some pajamas and had a big ole grin on her face.

When I told Colin he laughed and laughed. Today, I'm buying this and this. Merry Christmas, Kendall. Santa is bringing you a leash.

Sunday, December 06, 2009

Here's my tip for keeping your floors clean: Have your children and/or husband spill sticky items on the floor several times a day. What works well in our house is yogurt, icing, and cherry coke. Then make sure that someone steps in the sticky item and tracks it all over your floors. Or better yet, as in the case of the cherry coke, make sure it drips from one side of the kitchen to the other. This will force you to mop several times daily ensuring that your floors will be clean enough to eat off. Because that's where all the food ends up anyway.

Friday, December 04, 2009

It's a blog post about Tiger Woods. Feel free to turn the channel if you're tired of hearing it.

I just felt the need to share where I stand on one aspect of this increasingly weird/sad situation.

You know, because everyone has been waiting to know where I stand.

I hear a lot A LOT of people say that it's none of the public's business. And maybe there is some truth to that. I think for the sake of his wife, and certainly his babies, some of the more embarrassing details should be left private.

But, what was Tiger Woods expecting to happen when he was running around with fame hounds and hangers on? Did he think that cocktail waitresses who audition to be on reality tv shows were the model for discreet living?

But here's why I think we, as the "public" are owed some sort of explanation: Tiger Woods has built himself as a brand. Not just a small brand. A billion dollar industry. He's not just some guy who is good at golf. He has made himself a brand that sells and sells and sells. And he built that brand on the image of himself as a "good guy." He wasn't a crazy party guy. He didn't seem have lots of random Playboy type girlfriends. He loved his dad and mom. He has a great smile. And he capitalized on that image, to the fullest extent.

My kids eat Stonyfield organic yogurt (I know, insert eye roll here...and stay with me, I have a point). Stonyfield sells itself on using only natural ingredients, natural sugars and pro-biotics. If I found out that actually, Stonyfield was full of crap. That is was worse for you than Trix yogurt, which glows. That it is no way healthy and that, in fact, you would be better off not eating it...wouldn't I have a right to an explanation as to why I was misled?

I think you can see where I'm going with this.

Tiger Woods, you owe the public an explanation. We deserve to know why you are so messed up, why you lied about who you were (were you just in that much denial or were you lying to make more money?), and why in your public statement, you spend one paragraph talking about how you messed up and the rest talking about how bad the media is. Maybe you should address that to your girlfriend who seems to have no trouble talking or releasing disgusting texts that you sent to her.

So that's where I stand. I don't know how they'll work it out. But I do know that you can't sell your image to the tune of a billion dollars and then expect people to butt out when you want them too. It just doesn't work that way.

Tuesday, December 01, 2009

Hi. My name is Emily and I'm a complainer. I can't really remember when it all started but before I knew it, I was complaining 20, 30 times a day.

That's why I deleted my last post. Because who really wants to read about how much someone else has to do over the holidays? Like you don't have a lot to do also.

But thanks for letting me get it off my chest!

I had a realization as I was standing in Michael's yesterday picking out crafts for some of our 832 parties to attend and where we have to bring __________ (fill in the blank with: homemade ornament, secret Santa gift, gift exchange, decoration exchange, cookie exchange, gift card exchange....). I'VE GOT TO QUIT OVER COMMITTING MYSELF.

It's not that I'm all cool and have load of awesome parties to go to (I think I get invited out of obligation or pity). It's just how the holiday season is. You know it because you're dealing with it too. I considered taking a picture of my calendar that has something on it Every. Single. Day. from now until New Year's.

It's just too much. And I should be spending the holidays with my kids. Happy. Not stressed out about x, y and z.

So that's my goal for the months of December. Be happy. If that means giving things up, so be it. It's totally not in my nature AT ALL to skip a social gathering of ANY KIND but here we are. I'm not really sure what Christmas is all about but I've got figure something out quick because last night at Target, Cason picked up a $200 train set and told me Santa was bringing it to him.

No, son. I have it on pretty good authority he's not.