Doctors Appointment

A few weeks ago I realized that Delaney was due (late) for her well baby check. I cannot stand going to the Doctor with this little one. We always end up needing to have her poked and prodded and I get the third degree about her size.

Keep calm, and feed her more peanut butter.

I'm choosing to stay calm about the whole situation, because nothing will get me in a bigger panic than being told something is wrong with my kid. We will do the tests they want us to do, and see the specialists AGAIN, and try to navigate the insurance hoops. But we will not panic, nope, no sir.

Before we first met our pediatrician, I was told he was a "big teddy bear". I was not prepared by this description, for some reason. He is 6 ft 17inches tall! When he opens the door the first time, I thought to myself, "Great! She's going to be terrified!"

How wrong I was! She loves him. She jumps into his arms every time we see him, which totally blows me away.  This time, she was excited to show off for him during the exam.

She showed him how she rocks her baby.

She told him her unicorn has sparkle hair.

She told him, "I'm naked, I like naked!"

Thanks for keeping it real kid.

I seized the opportunity to ask him if this level of "clothing aversion" is normal for her age. He assured me it was.

I was thankful, because if the trend continued I was going to need some recommendations for a very "open minded preschool".

Before we left (for a blood test they botched) ( no panic) the doctor, who sat eye level with her on the exam table, looked down to make another note. Delaney reached out, laid her hand on his bald head, and exclaimed,

"Naked"

And then this happened

So remember when I was all:

"hey guys, this is the craft section of the blog where I let my kids do amazing crafts so I can get other stuff done and they are, like, sooooooo amazing to sit and paint like mini Picasso's." Read that here

Kaaaaaaay, so then this happens:

I turn my back for a second to post my triumph on the blog and here she is.

It's on her clothes

It's on her hands!

It's definitely in her hair.

Good Lord! Is it in her mouth?

Sigh

Click here to read

Craft time

The girls are finally at the age where they can focus on an activity for more than a few minutes. I have to capitalize on this, if I'm ever going to get anything done. I try to set them up with their craft then run around like my hair is on fire doing the dishes or fixing dinner. Sometimes it works, sometimes actual things catch fire. One of their favorite activities right now is painting.


I use an egg crate to old the paints. It works wonderfully! I cut off the lid, then cut the crate in half.

 The paints we use are washable, and technically finger paints. I ususally make my own paints from Cornstarch and food coloring. But these are so much easier because they wash out so well. And they came from SANTA!

 I have them use small paintbrushes. I choose the small craft brushes because it makes the paint last longer. If they use their fingers it all goes onto the paper at once and they loose interest. But the small brushes force them to take their time.

All in all, it took me about five minutes to set up this craft time for them.

They painted for about 20 minutes.

I'll take it!

Score one for Mommy. 

The look

Ladies and gentlemen,

I give you, " The Look "

I think the kid could have a future in theatre. She shows great promise in producing an angry face on demand. She is also quite capable of conjuring up a great "fake cry".

A prayer for my daughters, as told by Tina

Tina Fey's letter to her daughter:

First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.

May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.

When the Crystal Meth is offered, May she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.

Guide her, protect her. When crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels.

What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.

May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.

Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen. Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.

O Lord, break the Internet forever, That she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.

And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back.

“My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.

Amen.


I. Mean. AMEN.

Don't encourage me

I posted this picture on my Facebook page:

Some suggested her final look was just missing a belly jewel.

What kind of mother do you take me for?

Am I the kind of Mom that would glue a jewel to her toddlers belly and take a picture?

No!

Because she wouldn't stand still long enough for the eyelash glue to dry

Stop encouraging me

Life lessons from the playground

Originally published on mymelee.blogspot.com 8/12/11


Life Lessons from the Playground

Sometimes in life, taking the first step is the hardest. You may be afraid to miss, or unsure of your footing. But take the risk, because you will never get where your going if you don't take the first step. Your Papa gave me a card once that said," You will never discover new Oceans, if you don't have the courage to lose sight of the shore."

 Be proud of yourself when you accomplish overcoming a fear.

 Then keep on truckin.......

When life gets wobbly and you feel like you are being pulled in two directions, take a deep breath, and make the decision to move forever forward.

Never forget that you are not alone, there are so many people that love you and stand behind you ready to help.

 There will be obstacles to overcome. Sometimes you have time to prepare for them, make the most out of those opportunities. When you see an obstacle up ahead, make a plan to get around it.

 There will be people in your life that always seem to get in the way. It should be your goal to figure out a way to navigate the situation without either of you falling. Be friendly, even when people don't deserve it.

 Then keep on truckin.......

 You are strong, smart, sweet and capable. Hard work will get you where you want to go.

Look back at what you have done, learn from the things that worked, learn more from the things that didn't. You will learn more from your mistakes than your success. Be humble and help others when they make mistakes.

Always run away from the boys that wear their pants backwards and smell funny. Always. Even if they don't, run away anyhow.

When you get yourself into an impossible situation, find someone you love and hold on tight.

And finally,

Enjoy every second you have. Each one is a blessing. Surround yourself with people that are good for you and good to you. Be a great friend, even to those you dont know.

(But seriously about the boys, run)

And keep smiling

Dear Addison,

Time is going by so quickly, and everyday I look at you with total amazement. You are so capable in all that you try, and you are a very determined little girl. I hope you can keep ahold of that determination forever, it will serve you well in life. 

A creative laundry solution

If you come to my house, I assure you, you will not see this:

Why? Because I cracked the laundry code? (laundry+jami=rocket science) Washed, dried, folded, hung and put away this laundry?

Nope, I hide this stuff like a decent host. In my family we call this " shuffling s$!t". Exert the effort to move it around, while never actually doing anything with it. My husband thinks I'm "disorganized and lazy", I prefer to think of my self as a "free spirit" with a "relaxed attitude".

But, given the conversations between my husband and I, I started to think there may be a solution other than the "shuffle". Could this be true? I was going to need to give this some thought.

I always do my best thinking at 3am. I lie there in a state of half sleep and let my brain just run with it. Then I fall back to sleep and when I wake up I have usually forgotten the brilliant plan I was sure to set in motion that morning. Not this time.

I did my very best 3am think session and then half dozed until my husband was woken up by his work phone, around 6ish. I then, (assaulted him) told him of my laundry solution.

Disclaimer: Finding solutions to ones domestic shortcomings at 3am may not be as realistic or plausible as one thinks. Hind sight is 20/20. God Bless my long suffering husband.

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I figured out a solution to our laundry problem.

Our? Laundry problem. You don't even do my laundry.

Ok, if that's true, (its totally true) then why did you ask me last week what happened to one of your socks I washed?

..................

Anyway, I figured it out. Let's move to a nudist colony.

...................

Think about it, it's better for the enviornment, cheaper because we wouldn't be purchasing clothes, and best of all no laundry!!

....................

No? Really? I happen to think your being a little unreasonable about this.

.....................

Ok, well if you won't compromise then I guess we will do just things your way. The expensive and hard way. So I'm going to need to purchase more clothes and hire an expert to deal with them.

....................

I mean, someone's gotta find that sock

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Now, I can't be certain that's exactly the way the conversation went. We both may have (actually did) fall right back asleep after the first sentence.

Me- to dream up this conversation, and other ways to completely avoid laundry.

Him- to dream about a clean closet and what life would be like if I couldn't speak.

New Years Resolutions.

I've been tossing around the idea of having some New Years Resolutions. Luckily for me, I'm pretty "flexible" on the start date.

I need some ideas.

And no, " meeting deadlines" will not be one of them

Nor will "Save Money", I  just can't afford it

I do have a few things in mind.

1.)I want to read as much as I can, books that feed my soul. I'm starting with Brene Brown's Daring Greatly. I also joined a neighborhood book club.

2.)I want to do whatever I can do to enrich or repair some of the relationships in my life. To do this, I really have to let go of some fear, a lot of pride and ego, and a little bit of anger. Brene's book is a terrific guide for this so far.

3.)I want to somehow surprise my Mom.

4.)I want to attend a class of some sort with Addison. Maybe paint pottery together or do Mommy and me gymnastics. Something just the two of us. Even if just a few times.

5.)I want to do take Delaney somewhere just the two of us for a whole day.

6.)I want to make or plan something for my Dad and Stepmom.

7.)I want to make having fun with my husband a priority. I love when he laughs.

8.)And seriously do something about this laundry. On second thought, maybe 8 resolutions is too many. I should stick with lucky number 7.

Truithier truth

Confession : this isn't my first blog.

Last year I started a blog for my friends and family, to catalog the days with the girls. I loved it! I took pictures, planned activities, edited pictures, and thought a lot about what I wanted to write. Many family and friends have read it and ask why I havent been blogging recently.

The problem was, it wasn't really true.

Well, thats not completely true either. It was us, and it was all true content, but it was more like the pictures you post on social media. It's the ones where you look pretty and your house is clean and your kids don't have peanut butter smeared in their hair. ( side eye to my youngest) The blog pictures are beautiful, I treasure them. But I felt like I had to "create" perfect scenarios to blog about, or make the kids look perfect. Or get out of yoga pants for goodness sake, or nobody would care what I had to say.  I felt like I would be judged, or.....I don't know what really.  It was true, it just wasn't the truthiest truth. 

The truthiest truth is that life is just messy. I'm the clumsiest person you probably know. Im prone to getting myself into absurd situations, much to my husbands embarrassment. I hate laundry with a passion, and right now my kid is wearing a swimsuit bottom as underwear. Our life is beautiful, and wonderful and smeared with peanut butter most days.

I could have continued with my blog, but I wanted to stop censoring myself and start with a clean slate. To be more truthier ( or authentic for my friends that prefer actual English words). There are posts I will transfer to here, because they are beautiful, and funny, and true. 

I'm pretty sure, that my truthier self will be just as beautiful and funny. 

Grocery Day Panic

"I wish I had a dollar for every time I spent a dollar! Because then, Yahoo! I'd have all my money back. "

Jack Handy, Saturday Night Live

I was spending some time with my girlfriends last night, Clipping coupons and drinking some wine. My friend resolved to saving more money this year, she explained, as she expertly organized her coupons by product and store. I made a half attempt to collect coupons for things I knew I would purchase. And then I remembered something about myself. The more I  try to save money, the faster it slips thru my fingers. Seriously.

Last year, watching a show depicting people "extreme couponing" I decided that I wanted to hoard ketchup and canned soup as well. I wanted to save our family money, and also never run out of salad dressing.  I ordered the Sunday newspaper with the ads and coupons. I clipped away and set off for the grocery store. For a few weeks straight, I tripled the family grocery budget. This, my husband suggested, was not saving us any money.

The more I try to spend less, the more I actually spend. I have a history of this sort of thing.

When I was 18 years old I went to a Mary Kay party with a coworker. I didn't want to go, because I had no money. (and no real use for Mary Kay, I lived for Cover Girl thankyouverymuch) but, I went anyway, knowing I wasn't going to find anything I was interested in.

And left with $400.00 of Anti Aging products! I believe it was a kit. A, fight those age spots and crows feet, kit! 

At 18!  

Not one shimmery pink eyeshadow or glossy lip was purchased!

Thinking about this I slap my (ironically) slightly wrinkled forehead.

Last year, while preparing for a visit from my in laws, I explained to my husband that I needed to go to the store for a gallon of milk and "various light snacks".  When they are in town fom Pennsylvania, we usually spend a lot of time eating out. There are restraurants here that they like to eat at, and we try to plan activities outside of the house so there's no real use for a house full of groceries we won't cook. I did want to be sure to have breakfast items, so we could eat before we left the house on our adventures. My typical weekly grocery budget is around $125.00 a week, give or take. Im certain my husband had this trip budgeted out at approx $11.00.

" Milk and various light snacks" totaled $227!

I spent $227 on pop tarts and ego waffles!?!?!?!

Oh, and BTW  I forgot the milk!

The second I got home I burst into tears and told my husband what had happened.  As I was being checked out I felt the anxiety and embarrassment rising, bu there was nothing I could do to stop it. I was too embarrassed to actually stop the transaction. So, I payed and drove my loot of energy bars and frozen waffles reluctantly back to my husband. Whom, might I add, is extremely good with money.  He told me he would take care of it and hopped back into the car and returned the unwanted "light snacks".

He also purchased the milk.

So......

It's a good thing that one of my only responsibilities in the home is to buy groceries? Feel free to tell this story to your significant other when you argue over spending money. Sigh.

My point?

I'm out of milk and have to go to the grocery store. 

Say a prayer for me. And my husband. 

Mostly me.

Pats self on back

You guys! I took down my Christmas Tree today!


And it's not even February yet!


If that doesn't make you believe in Christmas Miracles, I just don't know what will.

The judgy Santa was the first ornament to go.

Housewifing: a verb

The online dictionary defines Housewifing as:

A verb of housewife

It defines a verb as: a word that conveys an action. Housewifing= to housewife

So, this is a blog about the adventures of me, Jami.

A housewife, housewifing. (ish)

To be fair, I'm a terrible housewife.

I have heard that one single human can cook, clean, feed multiple children ( multiple times a day!), wipe boogies and butts, clean and dress oneself, discipline the children, use proper grammar, craft, create, teach, fold laundry, pay attention to the dog and the husband, put on makeup, get a manicure, vacuum, get to preschool on time, and workout. I just don't believe it's actually possible.

A feat of super human strength, and I don't trust anyone who makes it look easy.

One day, I said to myself, "You know what you should do?"

Then I ignored myself when I suggested back, " mop the floor."

" start a blog that follows the ridiculous situations you get yourself into while housewifing."

I replied to myself, "If it delays folding that Mt. Killamanjaro of laundry, I'm in."

I am a committed wife and mother, and give my all everyday. I just don't want to beat myself up when I miss the mark of perfection.

I Believe that a great many women ( and many GREAT! Women) feel the same way about housewifery and motherhood. It ain't easy. So let just have a good sense of humor about it, and support each other..... Yoga pants, misbehaving children, burnt dinner, and all!

Welcome!