Summer, Summer, Summertime...Time to Sit Back and Unwind

We are officially selling our house, buying something cheaper and also buying our dream cabin up in the Wisconsin Dells.

Well, not really. But in a few years, I will be happy to say goodbye to my house in favor of a more laid back lifestyle. One that can include many more weekends like this past one.

We had the pleasure of spending the weekend at my sister and brother in law's family cabin in Montello, WI. It was exactly what a good summer weekend is made of...good food, beautiful lake, pontooning, kid's laughter, sun, campfire, and beer. Too much of the latter but that will not be the topic of my first blog entry in nearly two weeks. Those who know us well know that we do not need to state the most obvious.

In fact, there isn't much to post about. We laughed a ton and everyone was so happy. It's been a while again since we've all been together (all siblings and Dad, minus the youngest sister) and it was great to catch up. Braeden had a great time with his cousins and I'm sure he'll remember the weekend for the rest of his life. In fact, we actually saw some bravery in him as after nearly a half hour of coaxing by EVERYONE, he finally got in the lake. Then we couldn't get him out! I don't think I'll ever forget the look on his face as he was out there being "one of the boys." It's the stuff kids live for.

I think the weekend is best summed up by photos...
















I am looking forward to many more summertime memories!!!

Reminder to Self Re: The Dells

Enclosed is an e-mail I sent out last year to all my peeps regarding our second family trip to the Dells. I had to forward it to someone today and I thought it may be appropriate for my blog, seeing as we are headed there once again in a week and a half....


Things I learned in the Dells this weekend
Sunday, August 24, 2008 9:47 PM


Hello my friends,

Here are some things I learned in the Dells this weekend:

1. Never get the fish fry at Moosejaw.
2. Marley's Taste of the Caribbean, despite what they say, is not a family environment after 8:30 pm. However, if you're looking for a passed out drunk guy with groups of people taking his picture, it's your joint.
3. Give your husband plenty of time to look at the menu. This way, he won't make a rash decision and order something with lobster in it that has no price listed next to it. $40 for mac and cheese with a lobster tail thrown on top? Are you f'ing kidding me???
4. Never go miniature golfing with your child when he is purposely holding his poop.
5. 3 licks of a popsicle on the resort will set you back $3 (Yes, $3 for frozen sugar water). Because after they whine for one for a half hour, their mouths must be too tired to eat it. At this point, I could have poured tequila on it and called it a Margarita. And then, by Dells standards, it would be a cheap drink.
6. Swimming makes kids have to pee. A lot. And the Polynesian Resort is somehow clairvoyant in the fact he's just barely potty trained, so they made sure to put our room the furthest distance from the pool they could. And no, there were no public restrooms closer.
7. Go ahead, look for coupons. Look far and wide, because there are plenty to be had. But you know damn well that the place you are going to will not offer coupons. At least, until after you go there, pay full price, and then LATER look on the back of the hotel map. Well, I'll be dipped in shit, I never thought to look there for coupons to Storybook Gardens.
8. And while you're at it, pay full price for Storybook Gardens to which your child, sweet and darling as he is, doesn't give a damn about the Storybook characters. The ONLY thing he wants to do is take a family ride on the Storybook Gardens 5-minute train ride where the seats are so small your knees are shoved up your nostrils.
9. Never, ever make your husband go to the Outlet mall on your way out of town if he's tired. It's just not fun then, because then he just makes faces as he pushes your WAY TOO BIG child around in the red beetle-bug shaped car stroller that he had to ride in. For 2 seconds.

Believe it or not, we did have a great time but a weekend sure can present it's challenges!!! Keep these things in mind though...I warned you!

Amanda

April Fools!!!

I really hate this "holiday". It serves absolutely no purpose except to make total asses out of everyone. While I think some of the harmless pranks would be fun to pull, I would never EVER dream of pulling them on my dearest better half. Although he is the funniest man I know, his sense of humor regarding being the butt of a joke is non-existant. And any prank that I could think of (or was brought up to me) would not go over well.

Telling him I'm pregnant. (Probable Reaction: Joy then overwhelming anxiety because his employer just handed down the shittiest of all shitty health care plans)

Taping the spray head of the kitchen faucet so it would shoot at him when he turned the water on. (Probable Reaction: "Water intrusion is nothing to joke around about, Amanda.")

Saran Wrap on the toilet seat (Probable Reaction: An hour of him angrily scrubbing the floor and toilet followed by a trip to the local hardware store to find something suitable for cleaning pee splatters off of drywall)

Dumping cold water over the shower doors. (Probable Reaction: Flailing about which would result in him losing his footing and come crashing through the glass doors, falling on top of all the shards and then being rushed to the emergency room.)

No, none of these things would do. He is a good sport about most stuff, but why would I pull anything on him that I wouldn't want pulled on myself???

April Fools Day is just silly.

Today Marks Our 4 Year Anniversary!

I can hardly believe it, but today, March 5th, marks our 4th wedding anniversary. It's weird because while it seems like it was just yesterday, it also feels like it's been an incredibly LONG 4 years. Weird how timelines can be so conflicting like that...

I think about all that's happened in the past 4 years and I'm blown away at the pace of life. We lost my mom shortly after our wedding which was incredibly hard. Braeden was born that September and was colicky as hell. We built a house and our first home together sat on the market for a year, to the day... We've made amazing friends in our new subdivision, people I know will always be in our lives. We traveled to Mexico. We took our first of several "family" mini vacation to the Dells with Braeden. I started my own Uppercase Living business which Joe is very supportive of. I got a part time job at the Athletic Club I belong to. Braeden started preschool this winter and is thriving. We watched our investments climb to exciting levels and saw them drop drastically. We became Godparents to my sister's son. We've spent 3.5 years raising a son who is, thus far, incredibly compassionate, funny, loving, smart and we spend so much time talking about how he's going to turn out...hoping we're doing right by him.

Most people would probably sit and type out an emotionally charged entry about how great married life is and how happy they are. I'm more of a realist than that, and I love that about myself. Marriage is not easy. Living with the same person in a union year after year is incredibly challenging as once the honeymoon (figurative and literal) are over, you are faced with life's daily grinds. There are struggles, things you wish happened differently, concessions you sometimes need to make and tough decisions that you don't always agree on. I don't think marriage is easy, and anyone who gloats differently has their head up their ass.

But I'll tell you what I think marriage IS.... It's an evolution. It's an evolution where you move from who you used to be to who you are today. Because of my husband, I am a strong woman. I am a supporting wife and loving mother. I cannot imagine being anywhere except right here, right now. Good and bad.

It's not the same as it used to be, but we've evolved. We no longer make out in bars (thank God for all in our company) or get drunk 5 out of 7 nights a week because we don't know what else to do. We don't lay around all day on Sundays anymore because we have different responsibilities. We don't eat out 5 nights a week anymore because the best time of the day is when Braeden's eyes light up listening to Daddy talk at the dinner table over a simple meal I've put together. Sometimes the biggest fire in our bedroom is a heated conversation over what a farce the local news is.

In the past 4 years, Joe has gotten to know me better than anyone else and I love that. We are so in sync at times it's almost scary...sometimes I'd like my thoughts to be private but he often seems able to read them. He knows what makes me tick, he knows how to spoil me, and he knows how to be supportive. And I, in turn, know the same about him. And although I am often a nag (by my own admission), he loves me anyways, even if he doesn't remember that at that given moment. It often slips my mind that I love him too when he's being unreasonable or pessimistic. But we always come back to the same spot and remember how much we love each other. We're a REAL couple, not two people putting on a front of perfection. We have ups and downs and always will. But I'll take them. For him, I will take them.

So here, 4 years later Joe, I love you completely with everything that I am. I cannot imagine my life without you and now, while stress is high thanks to our dismal economy, know that I will ALWAYS be there for you. You will always be my guy, and I look forward to all the years we have yet to share...

Boys Will Be Boys

Boys love farts. It's just a fact. They sound funny, smell gross and elicit interesting reactions from others in the vicinity. I sometimes wonder if there isn't some secret, extra chromosome that boys have predisposing them to becoming fartoholics.

Braeden probably couldn't sing all the words to "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star", even though we sang it every night for his first 3 years of life. But he sure knows the ever-popular twist (written by my husband) on said song, entitled "Stinky Stinky Stinky Farts."

I don't think Joe farts more than the average man (and won't he love me for blogging about this) but Braeden thinks it's hilarious. In fact, everyone in Mukwonago and surrounding areas has now heard Braeden announce, as though he were calling everyone to dinner, that his "daddy is so funny. My daddy farts ALL THE TIME!" Spasms of laughter always follow. The post office. The waitresses. The check out ladies. The ladies at the gym. My manager. Our family. The bank tellers. The barber (he even smiled, which is really quite a feat for the rather stern looking gentleman). Everyone. What a kid.

Maybe it's not that the farts that make him laugh...it could be that Joe always announces "Does anyone hear a duck?" and then lets one rip. He'd kill them on Comedy Central, right?

Now I, the Mother figure, am working on getting Braeden to say "excuse me" after he farts. Manners are a tricky thing with preschoolers. About 1 in 10 times he'll remember to excuse himself. As of recently, the 9 remaining times I hear "does anyone hear a duck?"

Boys.

Judgement by Shopping Cart?

So it's come to my attention that some women judge others based on what is in their shopping cart. They claim that they can tell so much about a person by what they see in the checkout line belt... Lots of frozen meals, chips and beer, must be a bachelor! Juice, white bread and peanut butter and jelly, must be a mom trying to be a good mom but really having no clue. Cheetos, orange juice, and carrots...must be going to an "All-Orange Party." All frozen things together, cans stacked, and boxes neatly packed....must be anal-retentive. All merchandise all amiss....PSYCHO!!!!

Okay, really? Is this REALLY happening? I've been known to glance in others carts, but it almost just happens subconsciously, not because I want to play Psychologist and figure out their personalities. Now I'm totally freaked about my cart. What does it say about me?

Let's see....if I'm at Pick 'N Save or Wal-Mart, Braeden is sitting in the car-attachment part of the cart holding a box of Scooby-Doo Mac and Cheese. I thought this was cute and he's sure having a blast. But no....That must mean I can't bother dealing with my child so I banish him to another part of the cart before feeding him poison, aka white pasta. The front part of my cart (under the seat) is loaded with vegetables and fruit. Well, because I hate my son (obviously) these fruits and vegetables are for me. I am selfish. Slim Fast, so I must have self-image issues. But there's Twinkies in the cart too.... Uh oh, call Dr. Phil. Fat thin fat thin fat thin. I have frozen pizzas and also Boboli breads, sauces and cheese. Wants to be Martha Stewart but settles for Rachel Ray. Interesting.

You think.... Whole wheat bread...well, at least she's doing something right. Refrigerated cookie dough. Sigh. Well, it's obviously not for her banished child, so she must be planning on binging on the entire tube. That's okay, she'll have Slim-Fast the next morning. Oatmeal...nice choice! But fruit snacks? Do you really hate the kid so much you allow him to have kiddie cocaine??? Ham. Ham, really? Hatin' her husband too if she's giving him all that sodium, hoping his BP will suck. Unless, of course, the Twinkies are for him, then she's just trying to kill him. Whole wheat waffles, English muffins and bagels. Obviously wants to try and do the right thing but does any human being need that many carbs? And skim milk. SKIM MILK!!!???? But he's just a baby! He needs whole milk until he's 1. No 3. No wait, this month the magazines say 5. And I just read in that same magazine that kids shouldn't have hot dogs until they're 12. Call child protective services. She's not fit to be a mother. Must be having and affair and is trying to do away with her family. Diet Pepsi??? Oh Lord, this is worse than we thought! She uses artificial sweeteners!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Please, I beg of you people, you cart-looking judgers..... Back away. Slowly. Do not judge me. Have you ever been hit in the head with a can of Healthy Request Cream Soup? Yeah, that's right....I said CREAM SOUP.

Instead of scoping out my cart, get your damned checkbook ready, because I'm willing to bet you're the one who waits until the VERY end to fill it in.