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!!!

Bedtime Excuses Galore

The crib is a beautiful invention. Not only does it keep the little ones safe and sound, it also provides parents with a little extra sanity. Braeden loved his crib. He looked forward to going to bed every night, every naptime... Of course, he had his beloved nuk as well. It never came out of the crib. Call it bribery or whatever you'd like, but that kid sucked on that piece of plastic for 3-1/2 years and we never fretted about it. He would just cuddle up in his crib and drift away...never called for us, never tried climbing out of it...no acrobatics here. NIghtime was so peaceful...Joe and I could sit down with a cocktail, play a game of Yahtzee or cribbage, read a book, etc, etc, etc.

When he turned 3-1/2, we figured we'd pushed the crib envelope as far as we could. He's not a baby anymore. It was time to convert the lifetime crib into a toddler bed. Braeden was thrilled.

Thrilled because he could get out of bed by himself.

Gone were the days of him sleeping until past 8 am. Now we're graced with his presence at 6:15 am. I am not a morning person. This does not work for me. But I can deal with it as we have DVR in our room. Scooby is my hero for I can get a few minutes of extra sleep.

What I cannot deal with is the cornucopia of bedtime excuses. This has only been exacerbated by the recent transition into his double bed. This only happened because the kid is so freaking tall he was almost too long for his toddler bed.

Here is an abbreviated list of Braeden Wayne's bedtime excuses:

- "I'm thirsty"
- "I have to go poopy." Does one pellet count?
- "I can't see my tractor." Yes, because it's bedtime and the lights go out.
- "My aquarium isn't working." Because you shut it off...you know how to turn it off but always miraculously "forget" how to turn it on, even though it's the same button.
- "By the way..." Finish statement with anything under the sun
- "I forgot to feed Girlie." The cat is fat, she'll live....and you don't feed her every day anyways.
-"We forgot to read a book." No we didn't; we read 3.
-"Papa has to take a time out because he forgot to wash his hands before dinner." Um....2 months ago.
-"My owie hurts." You know, the one you got two weeks ago. It suddenly hurts again.
-"I'm thirsty." Again.
-"I don't want this digger in my bed." Walk in to see that you pulled every single digger of his dresser and now decide you don't want them all there...all 14 of them.
-"Someone's mowing." At 9 pm in the dark? No they're not, Braeden.
-"Is Alex here?" Unless they came 4 days early and took a late night car ride, NO, he is not.
-"My _______ hurts." Fill in the blank.
-"Mommy and Daddy, you're uhposed to go to sweep." We can't because you won't leave us alone.

And the best of all....Drumroll please....

- "I need my whoopie cushion." Despite the fact I haven't seen it for 4.5 months; why does one need a whoopie cushion in bed???

There you have it, the short list.

Would it be wrong to put that crib back together again???

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

My New Favorite Quote

“Raising children is like being pecked to death by a chicken.” ~ Anonymous

Truer words have never been spoken.

(Thanks to one of my followers for the quote!)

Amanda's Truth About Motherhood Entry #2

My Kid was 3-1/2 Before He Gave Up the Nuk

I am a total spaz about certain things, and the nuk was one of those triggers for me. I did NOT want a child who was chained to the nuk, pacifier, binky, etc. So from the time he was 9 months old, we stopped carrying one with us in public places. He was allowed to have his nuk in the carseat, at home, and in his crib. When he learned to walk, he was limited to the car and his crib. I felt like a hardass, but it's what we felt we needed to do in order to make sure he never developed a habit outside of sleeping.

However, he could have as many as he wanted in the crib. At one time, we had 12 nuks in the corner, on a blanket, so that when one fell between the slats and onto the floor, there was always another for him to find. Gone were the mid-night wakings, wailing for his nuk, and one of us having to go and retreive it. Problem solved!

Joe and I talked for months (years) about getting rid of it. But the truth of it all was that we were in no hurry. Braeden is/has always been a fantastic sleeper. And when I say that, I mean the kid BEGGED to go to sleep. Aside from seeing his blanks (another entry, another time), he got to use his beloved nuk. 8:30 pm - 8 or 9 am, not a peep. I loved the nuk as much as he did (I reaped the benefits of his sleep too) and deep down, I dreaded the day when it would go bye-bye.

So I let him keep it. For 3-1/2 years. The kid is in preschool, for the love of God.

The nuk fairy, at Braeden's suggestion, came to visit our house last Thursday and took all the nuks from the bag we hung in the tree and took them all to babies who needed them. It was actually very cute, albeit terribly frightening for me. What would happen to his sleep? My sleep?

The event came and went without much trouble, he's adapted just fine and is still sleeping perfectly. He was more ready than I was, I guess. We have been nuk free for 5 nights now and I'm glad it's done with....

BTW, The nuk fairy left a chainsaw as a parting gift. What happened to quarters, such as those the tooth fairy used to leave????

Amanda's Truth About Motherhood Entry #1

DVR = Sleep

We DVR episodes of Scooby Doo (all incarnations...Scooby Doo - Where are You?, Pup Named Scooby Doo, What's New Scooby Doo) and Curious George for Braeden to watch in the morning if he gets up too early. I love sleeping and if that Great Dane can give me an extra 20 minutes, so be it. No, we do not have a limit of television hours in our house.

"The Truth About Motherhood"

I used to enjoy watching Oprah. After all, I am a stay at home mom, and that's what we do, right? Sit around watching Oprah and eating bon-bons. No bon-bons for me. And ever since Oprah crawled up Obama's ass and built herself a soapbox up there, I've chosen to forgo my even most random viewings.

But the previews for yesterdays episode intrigued me so I tuned in. It was all about the ugly truth of Motherhood. The completely and totally unglamorous side that no one wants to talk about for fear of being judged or ridiculed. Sounds somewhat heavy, doesn't it? Well, it wasn't. It was downright hilarious.

I cannot tell you how many times I have begun venting about my life as a mother to someone and stopped myself mid-story or even mid-sentence. I work part time in a day care at an athletic club and deal with mothers every day who seem to have it all together. Some women with 4 or more children! I have friends who have children and always seem so put together. They appear to love every minute of being a mother and make it look so easy. And I stop myself mid-sentence because that is not me.

I doubt myself daily on my abilities as a mother. I love Braeden and wouldn't trade being a mother for the world. But is it my ENTIRE life? No. Is it easy? No. Do I enjoy every minute of it? HELL NO.

(and let me interject here that even as I type this, Braeden is choosing this as the perfect opportunity to need 100% of my attention to show me that the fabric measuring tape slides under a closed door...never a moment's peace)

I really thought that I was of some freakish rare breed, a breed of women that lacks that certain maternal mindset to morph into SuperMom. Apparently I'm not alone. Hallelujah!!! Turns out that there are scores of women out there who do what they can just to get by, just to make it through the day. The smiles on their faces are not because they love their job, but often times a front. Doesn't mean that we would rather not have children. It's just that there is so much "mom" talk out there, and with the media and internet at our fingertips, it's so much easier to stack ourselves up against others. And with all that comparison, it's simple to feel like we're failing.

I am thrilled beyond reason that I DVR'd the show as it put things into major perspective for me. I am REAL. I've always claimed to be a real mom, not some facade of what a mom should be. My kid has cried it out. He had mashed potatoes at 4 months old, before he'd even eaten Gerber vegetable purees. Sometimes he watches hours of television a day just so I can do laundry, make dinner, or heaven forbid....RELAX!!! Scooby is our best friend, our loyal (free) babysitter.... He eats chocolate. He's worn the same shirt 3 days in a row because it had Scooby on it and he wanted to wear it, despite the tomato sauce stains...

There is so much that others just didn't tell us before we became moms. A little heads-up would have been nice!!!! I love this topic so much that I think I'm going to try and do a series of blog entries about being a real mother. The ugly truth of things that every other "real" mom can identify with. Things you can stand up for and shout "I've DONE that!!!!!" (a woman spotlighted on Oprah's show started this whole real mom blog thing...great idea!) If anything, it may be therapeutic to me and others to know that we're all in the same boat. We're not perfect and we shouldn't need to feel the pressure to be. Years ago, it wasn't like this (or so I've been told). They did the best they could. Motherhood is a real bitch at times, and I love that the dialogue has begun. Time to get real, ladies!!!!

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.

GET OVER IT!

So it was announced (or at least I read about it) today that in order to combat the rising costs of goods, Girl Scout cookies will now come to us in smaller quantities. Just when we all came to terms with the fact we're paying $3.50 for 6 cookies, now we'll only get 4. At least, that's what it seems like...

My initial reaction was much like my reaction every time I go to the grocery store... "you have to be fucking kidding me." It's the same reaction I uttered the first time I opened a can of green beans and poured out a cup of water to be left with an ounce of grayish green deliciousness. Or when we opened a bag of Ruffles to discover instead of being half filled, it was only 1/3 filled. Screw you all. But it's how companies are winning the recession game - charge the same but give less product, under the thinly veiled illusion of status quo.

So now the Girl Scouts, with their knee-high socks and stupid sashes, are in on the game. It's not that I don't support the GS, I am a former member and think it's a great organization. I believe in the cause, and therefore I will buy the damn cookies.

What I find most hilarious about this whole thing is the replies that news sites are getting from readers. Sure, there are a few complaining that we're getting less for our money these days, and the effing cookies are already overpriced as is. But there are actually people out there using this as a platform for preaching healthier eating. They're chanting "Use this Opportunity to Treat Your Body like the Temple It Is!" A woman claims she can no longer eat packaged cookies because now that she eats only whole foods, her body cannot handle the processed pucks or any thing else the rest of us call "tasty". Someone else bitched that the Girl Scouts are actually part of a grand conspiracy to kill us gluttons with their hydrogenated oils and high fructose corn syrup. Yes, that is their part of their new mission statement. Apparently, you missed the memo on that....

Give me a damn break. I eat healthy 90% of the time. I only have whole grain bread in the house, we eat whole wheat pasta from time to time, and we're big in vegetables and fruits. I do cringe when my husband eats a Twinkie because it just can't be good for you. But I'm not a nazi for pete's sake. Don't make the rest of us feel like freaks with nipples on our cheeks because we eat a cookie every once in a while. A little treat never killed anyone. Would you rather the Girl Scouts go door to door selling hummus? Yeah, remind me not to go to any of your parties, you wild child!!!

Get over it.

Life's BIG Pleasures

Today I played in the snow with Braeden, and it's just one of those things that warms your heart and makes you love life. I got him completely bundled up (winds howling at 25 miles an hour...come on already!) and then he had to pee, of course....but then we re-bundled and shoveled together, made snow angels, and played King of the Hill preschool style on the snowbanks from Mr. Mike's plow (snow blower still isn't working). He had his little Diego sunglasses on the a scarf wrapped around his face, so all you saw was this little pink nose and cheeks and it was so unbelievably adorable.

I hate being cold, hate the snow, and hate all things winter in Wisconsin, but I have to say that this morning was wonderful.

Does the Library Know It's Soon to be Christmas?

Today was our first storytime for preschoolers at the community library. Braeden was actually very well behaved compared to when we tried to do lapsit storytime when he was younger. That was a disaster. While his butt never stops moving, he did enjoy the stories read about cookies.

Afterward, we went by the books themselves and tried picking out Christmas books for check out. Do you think they pulled any holiday books at all to put in the usual "spotlight" section of the library? Thanksgiving had a Thanksgiving display. Halloweentime had Halloween books for your browsing. What do they have in December for Christmas? Eric Carle. You know (if you have kids)...that guy who writes those obnoxious books with creepy Picasso-style illustrations. Books about Birthday surprises for boys that look like they were inbred. Books that are filled with nothing but statements such as "Can you do it? I can do it!" Strange blue apes and purple tigers. If this were the 60's, I'd suggest it was LSD inspired. This is what the spotlight is this month.

I did not realize that Eric Carle was bigger than Jesus. Santa apparently has nothing on him. Books about reindeer??? Check the on-line catalog and go find them yourself (and then find out that they're not there).

It's not that I mind not having books at my fingertip to choose from easily. But for a preschooler, it sure is nice when we can go to one section and have him select several books himself. Gives him a sense of empowerment, instead of me searching for them for him. I'm all about teaching him independence, and these are the little things that help me out.

You can be sure there will be no Eric Carle in our stockings this year.

You obviously don't have children

You obviously don't have children.

Yes, I'm talking to you, the people who were staring at me yesterday in Walmart as my child SCREAMED at the top of his lungs. Yes, you, the people who were trying to pick out the perfect birthday card for your perfect nephew, because, of course he's perfect.... You don't see him everyday. You see him on his birthday, Christmas, Thanksgiving (along with all 40 of your other relatives who sit around clammoring for the dry turkey, crispy skin and liquid fat talking about how you REALLY need to get together more often) and maybe a picnic here and there during the summer. I'm talking to you, the women who were trying to decide which casserole dish to buy...the 8x8 or 8x11 (you really do need one of both, ladies, c'mon). I'm talking to the man in the cookie aisle who was obviously so distracted from choosing his 4th box of Keeblers that he had to turn and go the other direction in the aisle from me (It's Keebler dude, they all taste the same...it's fudge covered something or another).

He's 3. Okay? I wasn't proud, but he was pissed off that he couldn't have the entire sheet of stickers when the poor Wally World greeter tried giving him 1. Meldown ensued, and there was no stopping the train of tantrum that the entire store heard coming their way. I held my ground, was firm, did not give in, but I had to get an anniversary card. I could get out without anything else but I had to buy the damn card. I did what I needed to do as quickly as I could, and I'm sorry that I inconvenienced you. Believe you me, I was inconvenienced myself.

Let me explain this.... You were bothered for a mere 30 seconds as I plowed by you, screaming child in tow. Sure, you may have heard him in the distance (say, sporting goods), but I did my best to make sure that other patrons did not have to put up with his spinning head for long. I, on the other hand, had to deal with your cold looks and whispers. I had to deal with you judging me as a parent based off of 30 seconds. I had to pick up the chips he tossed across the check out line and abandon my cart with a few things I needed. I then had to buckle this child into his car seat while he stiffened straighter than a board and continued to scream and cry as though I were beating him. Then, I had to ride 15 minutes home with him screeching at ear-peircing levels while trying to pretend I didn't hear him at all. I had a hell of an afternoon. It was a MAJOR inconvenience to me, so consider your 30-second blipit into my life nothing by comparison.

But he is 3 and he is going to have his moments. I can say this now that the storm has calmed and he is back to being his pleasent, polite, sweet self. Parenting sure is interesting, you take the good with the bad and love them regardless. And since yesterday, I've made a promise to myself to try and not judge others.

But you, people who made me feel like crap...you obviously don't have children.

Dapper Dan's Fine Life

What else should I post about for my first thoughtful blog entry...Christmas pressures, of course.

I want to get Braeden one of those learn to dress dolls that teaches him how to tie, button buttons, do zippers (he can zip, he just can't connect the two pieces before he zips), etc....So I went on Amazon and do you know that the only ones I can find on Amazon are like $35 dollars and up??? There are a few that got poor reviews that are a little less expensive, but where in the $#@% does Dapper Dan get off?? $38 for a stupid doll with a zipper and button? He must be living the high life with Dressy Bessy. (Don't even get me started on the Learn to Dress Elmo...$74.99....Rent on Sesame Stree must have gone up)