Mama In Stilettos

A Lil' Laugh

I figured in light of the Super Bowl, everyone will be on the edge of their seats waiting for that ultimate commerical.  I say BLAH! 

I've found some stuff that is WAY funnier.

Enjoy!

Candy Anyone?
see more pwn and owned pictures Crap. That's a lot of freaking walking. I definitely should have left the stroller at home.
see more pwn and owned pictures What? NO seatbelt?
see more pwn and owned pictures Remind me NOT to call this guy if I have a problem with fire....
see more pwn and owned pictures More to come.....

25 Random Things

OK...So there's this "chain letter" going around on Facebook, and because I am the QUEEN of Facebook, I found it necessary to participate.

Remember those "chain letters" when you were in second grade that came in the mailbox and you almost peed your pants because you actually got "mail"? Yes, well I still get excited at the pretty "thank you notes" and "invitations".  Besides the point, when in grade school, one would have to send the "chain letter" to work with either mom or dad so they could "ditto" it off and you could then send it to your posse via snail mail.  It was rather exciting.  Especially when people in school were all up in it.  "Did you get your letter?"  "Oh Yes! My mom is copying it at work...And I'm going to send it tonight."

Or you could have grown up in a town like mine where some kids had it good. "Yeah...My dad is having his secretary laser copy it and I gave her the names of the people to send it to..."  uh..ok...I'll be over here licking my stamps and handwriting the names in the "Dear so-and-so" part.  

Anyhow...These are my answers to Facebook's latest chain letter.  It's "25 Random Things".  The list should be of things that people may or may not know about you...I did pass it on to some on Facebook, but thought it would make a great RANDOM post...Especially while I waited in the car for Chris to come out of Best Buy this afternoon....I also took some RANDOM pics. heh heh (ignore my double chin...Crack down is February 1st)

1. I am addicted to products 2. I am a shoe whore 3. One of my favorite places in the world in the beach (any kind), yet I hate being gross and sandy. 4. I hate horror movies (especially when weird things happen to eyes or voices..Then I REALLY freak) 5. I love going out to eat. 6. I have a love/hate relationship with working out and staying fit. I love feeling fit, but hate the effort..But once I get motivated, I can do anything. 7. I have 2 children..And yes...They are 17 months apart..Irish twins..No. Not planned tht way. heh heh. Why would I WANT to torture myself? 8. I love when one of the babies reaches for me to pick them up and is instantly quiet and soothed. I feel overwhelmed with love and "mommyhood". 9. I have learned who my true friends are. Whatever. There was a severe amount of pain and confusion involved, but I am so much happier. 10. I have one BFF and think that our friendship has survived a lifetime of trials and two lifetimes of ridiculousness. We're ludicris and insane. 11. I love looking at snow, but HATE playing in it or going outside and getting my clothes wet. Am I meticulous? Heck yeah. 12. I drive a Jeep and would NEVER own or be seen driving a MINIVAN. Although I did learn to drive in a minivan...which we proceeded to call the "party wagon". 13. I love feeling feminine and being girly. 14. I read like it's going out of style. I rip through books kinda like I do money. hee hee 15. Maybe I should address that--I LOVE spending money..If it could not be attached to guilt, that would be great. 16. I have 2 pugs. but one lives with my mom and dad because she is insanely afraid of the children and noise...And is constantly harassed by the other one. 17. I am Britney Spears' biggest fan (yup....and going to her CONCERT!!! March 26th BABY!) 18. I am choosing to ignore this coming birthday. No celebrations for turning 30. I will be in bed with a book. 19. I am a night owl and a GRUMP in the morning. Seriously. Don't talk to me before my double shot of espresso...Or 3 cups of coffee. 20. My favorite color is green, but I wear a ton of white and pink. 21. I adore ethnic foods..And LOVE to try new things. 22. I LOVE to DANCE. I am a big believer in "dancing it out". Have a bad day? "Dance it out." Need a question answered? "Dance it out". 23. "Sometimes you gotta go through the pain to experience the joy....This too shall pass." I am a firm believer in this (even though it's said by P. to-the-Diddy) 24. I despise talking on the phone...Unless it's gossip. HA! Or someone who really needs a friend...But small talk? Ick. 25. I covet all things preppy. Polka dots, argyle, plaid..Monogrammed..Be still my heart.

Your TURN! Tell me something RANDOM...Or you could leave me out on a limb..

Choose This....Or That

Ok...It's time to play a game.

It's called "Choose This...Or That".

Easy.

Your choice:

5 minutes of being locked in a dark box with bamboo shoots under your nails...

Or 5 minutes of this:

"Mommy! Need go potty!!!!"   Rush into room to pull down Nicholas' pants and sit him on potty....Mid sitting him on potty....

BANG! CRASH!

Rush into kitchen...Cambria dumped jade plant (pot and all) onto kitchen floor and was playing in the dirt and plucking off the leaves.  "NO CAMBRIA!"  Grab her and walk her (with dirty hands and feet into living room as NIcholas screams "MOMMY! MOMMY! POTTY!" (He won't potty without an audiance)

 

Sit down next to potty while Cambria swaggers over to potty with dirty hands..Touching ALL furniture in her way.

Look over to corner of room where dog is in "poop stance"...."NOOOOOO GRACIE!"  She poops.

Cambria swaggers over to steaming pile of poop while I try to outrun her. "NO TOUCH!" I scoop it up and quickly throw it in the toilet.

"Mommy! I peed! I peed!"  Nicholas yells.  I look over in time to see pee shoot out from the front of the potty and all over the towel in front and see it reach the Oriental carpet (I walk over to the closet to grab the cleaning supplies...First for the dog, then for the rug)

Nicholas gets up from the potty and in the process, drops a Matchbox truck into the bowl.  "Oh no, Mommy!"  He reaches in and picks it up dripping.

"NO! Nicholas! Let Mommy clean that up!"  I grap the truck with a Lysol clean-up and try to ignore the instinct to bleach my son's hands, instead run him over to the sink to wash.

Forget pee is STILL in potty.

Walk back into room to find Cambria swimming in the urine.

Excellent.

Now I have an extreme amount of urine to clean up, children to disinfect, dirt to sweep, a plant to repot and my sanity to maintain.

THOSE 5 minutes could be from anyday, anytime.  You could take that clip and play it over and over. That's my day. In a nutshell.  (oh! and insert an extreme amount of whining during the entire 5 minutes).

So you pick the five minutes.

Me? I'm taking the bamboo shoots.  At least I know it has an ending, where as the other 5 minutes??

GAH! 

Fat Jeans

I just had the most brilliant idea.

I am going to open a new restaurant called "Fat Jeans".

You can only dine in my restaurant IF you are wearing your "fat pants".  And can prove it..none of these "I swear! These size 2s ARE my fat pants!"  Turn your skinny butt around.  No entry.  

Dress code strictly enforced.  

No skinny jeans (unless your muffin toppin' it...then I may reconsider the situation..Depending on the size of the jeans AND the muffin top.)

And the food?

Who cares about the food!  Anything tastes good when you're comfortable and don't feel like a stuffed sausage next to Miss America Size 4.  Or Michael Phelps' twin! (although there would be pumpkin pie as a choice for dessert...The "jacked up, pumpkin pie on steroids" kind..A la mode, of course.)

Possibility of a "weigh in" at the beginning of the meal where the patron steps on the scale..And then a "weigh out"...The bigger the gain the bigger the PRIZE! 

Trip for two to Aspen!! (cause you sure don't have to wear a bathing suit there!!) 

Now to find the entrepreneur....Any takers?

Or peeps who would wait in line to eat at my fine dining establishment?

Desperate Times....Desperate Measures

So we decided to begin potty training Nicholas who will be 3 in April, this past weekend.  At first I was so determined that "this was going to work!" and "he's going to get it fast!".  I thought this because I had a playdate last week and there was a little boy there and he was all set and potty trained.  I was hyped up and told Chris "If he can do it..Then Nicholas sure can too!"

Yeah...Not so much.

The first attempt we began on Saturday night after nap.  5 "accidents" in a matter of 2 hours..No successes.  I was literally pulling my hair out.  Yep.  Looking at my hair to find the gray ones.  I was up until 12:30am doing LAUNDRY so he would have pants and new underwear for the next day which I hoped would NEVER come.  I wanted to give up.  

Sunday came.  More of the same.  My house began to feel much like a psych ward where we were all slave to a little thing called the "egg timer".  We would set the timer to go off every 10 minutes.  When it went off DIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNG, Nicholas was to sit on the potty to give it a try.  OMG.  Do you know what 10 minutes feels like as a schedule ALL DAY? It feels like 30 seconds in between "DIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNG!" By the middle of the day Nicholas was dive bombing to the floor every time the bell would go off and I was jumping out of my skin.  

Then the anger and crying began by the end of the day.  Egg timer "DIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNG!" Whatever Nicholas was playing with went flying across the freaking room and we were irritable. "Ok..Potty time!!!"  Became "Nicholas! To the potty..now. No pee pee in your pants ANYMORE!"  And the crying and screaming while sitting on the potty.  I was a wreck.  My nerves shot.  I wanted to throw that freaking egg timer out the window and then run over it with my car.  Several times over and over.  What the heck?!?! Why can't he just pee on the stupid potty?  

When the kids went to bed we were so shot and our nerves were fried.  We were yelling at each other over everything from the mail on the kitchen table to the contents of the refrigerator "WHAT?!?!? YOU TOOK THE LAST WATER BOTTLE?!?!? ARGH! YOU BIG JERK!"

It was a disaster.

And I had to start alone the next morning.  Just me with the two kids and the freaking potty...I could just picture myself scrubbing the carpet and changing clothes at least every half hour along with a 14 month old swaggering everywhere and touching the potty relentlessly.  <sigh>

Monday morning came and GUESS WHAT?? Again...Urinefest 2009.  Accidents started the day.  I was on the edge of a panic attack already before 10am.  I was pacing the living room, racking my brain..What is going to work??  Something NEEDS to work...NOW.  Before I fling myself into the snow outside and wait for my slow mind numbing death.  Seriously? It was easier to train my dog.

I was pacing and pacing.  I was a slave to the living room because I WAS NOT going to leave him alone to his own urine-antics.  If I could catch him..I would.  Less scrubbing for me.  My house was already starting to smell like a barn and I began contemplating throwing hay down...Hey. It works for animals! Right then I felt primitive...And angry! For heaven's sake! I couldn't even take a shower for fear I would wake up to a lake in my kitchen, or living room...Or worse..He would be wet, but I wouldn't know where the deed went down..Hence, I would be scrutinizing every little place, only to find it by stepping in it beside his bed (cause THAT happened)..Or something resembling that incident.  Heck, I couldn't even leave the room to go to the bathroom.

Heeeeeeey.  I couldn't leave the room to go to the bathroom. <lightbulb moment>

"Nicholas!!! Mommy needs to go potty! Come here!"

Yup.

I dropped trou and squeezed my arse onto the potty in the MIDDLE OF MY LIVING ROOM.  And peed.  Nicholas stood there mesmerized.  Thank god there was a towel underneath the potty cause I had NO IDEA if I was even on target.  But I was and Nicholas gasped as he heard me doing the deed.

I got up and realized that I forgot something to wipe with.  ARGH! Why can't I just think things through more! Why can't I be a bit more organized when I am going to pee in the middle of my living room.  I hopped to get a tissue while Nicholas exclaimed "Pee pee in there, Mommy!  Pee pee in there, Mommy!"

"Yes! Mommy put pee pee in there!"

I cleaned the potty so quick.  As if my life depended on it and put it back.

"Do you want to go on the potty?"  I asked.

"Yes! Nicky on potty!"  And HE WENT.  And he HAS NOT STOPPED.  

Here's the thing...I may be a bit of a genius, but...He gets candy everytime he goes on the potty.  And candy is a BIG deal because he never gets it around here (his mimi and poppy's house is a completely different situation...They may have to hire a clown to get him to go potty because he is inundated with candy when he goes there anyways).  So here's what I am dealing with now:

Nicholas will go on the potty, get his "treat", finish it and then run over to the potty. "Potty, Mommy? And I'll be darned.  He will eek out even a teaspoon..Just to get his candy.

So now I have a kid who is obsessed with going on the potty, but is on a constant sugar high.

He is survivng solely on candy.  He has not eaten in 3 meals.  <sigh>

Have I created a peeing monster?

The Dog Days of Sephora

So I feel as though Sephora is a beacon of light on my world.  It is like a beautiful oasis in this life of crisis and stress.  If I am in a bad mood, simply bring me into the nearest Sephora and see it instantly melt away as my eyes shimmer with hope and my blood pumps with adrenaline.  I am always overcome with decisions and my senses flood with emotion.  Yes, sometimes, tears come into my eyes as I see my favorite name brands such as Tarte, Benefit, Dior, Bliss, Nars and MakeUp Forever..And a VERY long list of MANY more.  I am a self proclaimed product whore and have lost no respect for myself.  My make up drawer overflows and my cabinet flashes like a club scene.  And I covet each and every one of my products.  I think of my face as a canvas ( An extremely BLANK one right now...And an extemely TIRED one..not to mention there are some "cover up situations" that need to be taken care of ASAP...And I am not going to even begin to talk about what appear to be little lines?? What is this? This, my friends, is the result of having two children. Period.)  I fall in love many times over in Sephora and (Ahem) some of the staff know me, so sometimes..No, ALL THE TIME, it's like coming home.

 And the beauty tools?!? Just try to pry the new up and coming new eye lash curler from my grasp.  I will take you down for it.  Right there in the aisle while possibly assaulting you with their ultra mod and oh-so-worth-the-money make up brushes and eyebrow tweezers.  

I bet if I were stranded on a deserted island..or ANYWHERE, for that matter, I could simply stick my nose up in the air and <sniff sniff>..."It's this way to Sephora <pointing>."  BAM. Home again, Home Again jig-a-dee-jig.

Well, today was a different sort of visit.  I had the kids with me (and a friend...C'mon..I'm not THAT stupid...They wouldn't even let me in the DOOR with two against one)  So here were were working our way through the new and undiscovered things that we never saw before.  "Oh my gosh! This eye pencil says it will make me look awake! QUICK! Stick it in the basket!"  Or  "Does this give me color? Seeing as the kids have drained me wo look like the walking dead?....It does??? OMG. Getting it..Price? Who cares? I refuse to look because now I can actually go and get the mail everyday."

"Look Mommy."

I look....Jill (BFF) looks...BUSTS OUT in the MakeUp Forever section.

There is my (almost) 3 year old in his stroller holding a Benefit lipstick.  He has applied the lipstick all over his mouth and nose.  I BUST OUT quick and then quickly look around for workers..GEEZ.  I don't want to get kicked out of SEPHORA!!!!! That's like getting thrown out of home and chucked into foster care.  I will NOT be forced to shop makeup at department stores!

"Mommy? Can I have a mirror? Look in mirror?"

What?? He now wants to LOOK in a freaking MIRROR?!?!?!?  

I couldn't help myself...I pull out my (Lorac) compact and let him see his masterpiece and Jill swipes his face clean with makeup remover, grabs the lipstick and hides it among the sparkly others.  We do this in about 3 seconds.    

"Lotion Mommy?"

I turn around...WHAT?!?!?

Jill: "What? Does he want a freaking spa treatment?"

What kind of son am I raising here? 

Isn't It Ironic

Isn't it ironic that today was the day that I decided that enough was enough! As I pulled, wait-painted, on my pants today.  No more of this laying around eating SKOR bars and Mounds in bed while reading; all while totally neglecting my treadmill.  I was still claiming "sick"...Yeah..I was working that excuse two weeks too long.  And then, of course the PMS hit hard and like a chocolate tornado my insides were screaming for any type of chocolately goodness.  

Incidently, I discovered Williams Sonoma Peppermint Bark.  We got it for a innocent Christmas gift  (thank you Auntie Brenda..).When I first saw it was was like " yeah...ok. peppermint with white chocolate.  Not a big fan."  But when I broke into it when there was nothing in the house chocolate (due to my warp speed in consumption), it was like Christmas all over again IN MY MOUTH. The peppermint was not annoying as you may think and the white chocolate was underscored with semisweet chocolate.  Oh the sweet goodness.  I devoured it in about a day and a half.  I thought hmmmmm....Maybe I should get some more?? Cause it's also very portable to bring into bed to eat while reading in it's cute as a button tin.  So I looked it up and it was on SALE!!!!! 

This is what came today...I noticed it at my front door...Yep. Right after I got off the treadmill... 4 delicious tins of Peppermint Bark.  What am I going to do?!?!? I LOVE this stuff, but I simply CANNOT indulge ANYMORE! I'll be busting out of every single pair of pants I own and I refuse to go out in public in my yoga pants that are two years old that were post pregnancy.  They're not even CUTE! They're not even from Victoria's Secret PINK line! NO WAY! Maybe if I eat nothing but the bark I won't gain anything.  Can I live on bark alone?? Perhaps...

So freakin' ironic..I spend $30 on Peppermint Bark and now I have to either stare at it and lust for it or eat it and not only live with the guilt, but go through the next couple of months looking like a sad excuse...

Anyone for some bark?

Analyze This

So this is a pic of what is on my bedside table right now. (gasp, gasp) I know..I am a NEAT FREAK.  How could this happen?? Well, let's discuss the contents and you make the decision.

1.  Book: Fast Friends by, Jill Mansell

2. Inhaler (used more than directed)

3. SKOR Bar

4. Mounds Bar

5. Assorted cough Drops

6. Thermometer

7. Cough Medicine (notice the absense of any type of measuring instrument..Yep..Straight from the bottle)

8. Tissues

9. Nonny's ancient teddy bear

10. Hand lotion

11. Alarm Clock (I really think I used that thing for the first time this morning in about a year or so)

12. Baby Monitor

13. Adirondack Spring Water (white grape flavor)

14. Aromatherapy Spray (Lavendar Chamomile) on a gold coaster

15. Oversized Safety Pin (under tissue box that were holding some comfy socks together)

16. Blue paper that contains producers phone numbers of tv show I was on...you know..In case..

**All over a VERY cute doily**  **And a very nice lamp that coordinates with the room nicely**

I could possibly LIVE on my side of the bed for DAYS.  I have water, food and definite entertainment.  Who would want to leave?? 

Oh man.  I am a psychological nightmare.  LOOK AT MY NIGHTSTAND!!!!

Expecting

So I've had some sort of "death plague" the last two weeks and can't seem to shake it.  I want to stay in bed all the time...fever...hacking like I've smoked my entire life..The whole bronchitis thing.

And then my washing machine breaks.  And if you know me, you know that I at least do 2 loads of laundry a day..Even when on my death bed.  So this was a big deal in my world.  If I get behind on my laundry, then my life feels off kilter and I get a bit shaken up....

But nothing compared to what the "repairman" said to me.

"Ahhhh..I didn't get a good look atchya.  You expecting again?"

Are you serious?  Can I die now?..I will take the death plague and times it by two now.  After I shove the repairman under the washer and the jump on it a few hundred times.