I Forgot To Tell You Something

I'm sorry about not getting a blog up last night. I've been super-busy over here with um... first I....um....OK fine you dragged it out of me. I've been obsessing over the Buffalo Bills, refreshing their homepage and checking their message boards for news out of camp. Coach had to bribed me with jewelry and then he waved my season tickets under my nose in order to get me off the computer and then I fell asleep. Oh, I didn't mention that the season tickets showed up? They're so pretty. I love them.

I bet you are a little concerned that in the midst of my obsession I've forgotten that I have kids. Your concern would have been valid, but those little buggers never stop talking. Not even the greatest Zen master in the world could tune them out.

Braden's conversations are pretty standard, "Do you like the Ninja Turtles?" (he asks everyone he meets this.) "I'm drinky." (thirsty) "My tummy is gun (going) to explode." (I have no idea what this means but it makes me laugh every time.) "Emuhgency, emuhgency!" (usually this means that a stuffed animal has fallen off his bed or he has run out of water and needs more.)

As for Bella, it kind of seems like "freaking out" is her catch phrase. She uses it all the time, ...they're freaking out, Nonna's going to freak out, etc. But the past few days she's started coming out with some classic stuff. Yesterday morning I was taking care of odds and ends...oh who am I kidding I was probably at the Bill's website. I need professional help. Anyway, my kids are fussing with each other because Bella wants to play with Braden but he really wants to play alone. They go back and forth for a few minutes and then I hear Bella say to him, "But Braden, I've always been there for you!"

This is true actually, when Braden was learning his ABC's, she was there. When he went through his matchbox car phase, she was there. When he wants to hear "Beat it" she puts it on for him. When he can't decide if he likes Leo or Donny better, she's there. Then why, for the love of Pete, won't he play Barbie's with her? Psh, boys.

Last night Coach had to work late and I put the kids to bed on my own. It's become custom after our usual bedtime routine of Bible and prayers, for me to make the kids repeat back to me the rules of bedtime. Braden has three rules that all pertain to staying in bed whereas Bella's only rule is "NO TALKING." It never works. Every night without fail she gets into bed, repeats her rule to me and as soon as I walk out of the room she says, "Mom, can I ask you one more thing?" She does this like five times. It's not aggravating or annoying at all. I swear I only made that no talking rule so she could have a rule to break like her brother does. Come to think of it he obeys his three rules much better than she does her one...hm. I digress.
So last night as I'm leaving the kids room, Bella does her usual "one more thing" routine and I turn to her and say in my kindest Michelle Duggar voice, "WHAT?!"

"When Daddy gets home to kiss me tell him I said, 'Behold, I am asleep'!"

By the time Coach came home I was ready for bed and neglected to pass on the message. So Coach, go and behold your daughter, she is asleep.

I too am headed for bed now. I'll no doubt have to swing by the Bills website to check it for updates. It's 1:25 am, I'm not sure what I think they'll be reporting on out in Western NY. I'm sure that all of the players are asleep. But you never know, it's entirely possible that the media will sneak into the players' rooms to report on their sleeping habits. And, if they should happen to stumble into TO's room and find him sleeping in a hyperbaric chamber with a sparkly sign above it that says, "Behold, I am asleep." I'll be the first to know.

A Snapshot of This Moment

This morning while I was pouring his cereal, Braden asked me to put these sunglasses on him.Once they were in place he said, "I look fab-le-ous. Like Donny and Mikey and Leo and Raph."

What's cooler than a turtle? A turtle in sunglasses eating Kix.

Not to be out done by her fab-le-ous brother, Bella must always have her picture taken if Braden has his taken. God has declared it to be so.

It's in the Bible.

In preparation for selling this place, we thought an island in the kitchen would be a nice addition. No, you don't agree?

This dresser was in the "baby" room and we are sending it into storage so we can turn that room into a toy room. (For what it's worth, I hate toys.)

We have to wait until this evening to get a truck and I needed it out of the room so I can finish cleaning it and putting all the toys in it. The kitchen seems like a perfectly logical place to put it, doesn't it? (The disassembled crib is taking up the hallway.)

This is why I need a room dedicated to toys.
I Hate Toys. (did I say this already?) I don't buy them. Almost all of these toys are courtesy of someone else's generosity. Not to me mind you, because if it was generosity to me they would have bought my kids guns and explosives instead. It would have given me less stress.




This is Braden's bed. No matter how many times we take these stuffed animals out of his bed he keeps putting them back in. It's a constant annoyance to Coach. On occasion he lectures Braden about it. For the record, lectures to a three year old are a waste of time.
I hate toys.


Look, look! A mostly clean room...with a really big toy in it. Yep, that's a train set. The kind they have in Barnes and Nobles. I'm certain that my kids life would have been incomplete without it. Years and years of therapy and possible thumb sucking. They may have never recovered.

I Blame my Mother

If there is one thing the Coach is really good at it's making sure I feel special on my special days. Clearly he's willing to do whatever it takes. Any man that willingly goes into the shoe department with a woman is one worth keeping. Yet after all that he still said, without a hint of hesitancy, we can do whatever you want for Mother's Day.

Well I already have a new dress and a killer pair of heels, what else could anyone possibly want out of life? Then I knew what I wanted to do. I didn't want to go out to eat, go shopping or even leave the house at all. I wanted to stay home and clean my house. I didn't want the Coach to clean it either, I do a much better job. What kind of crazy wants to clean her house for Mother's day?

I blame my mother.

I blame her for all of those years of teaching me how to clean and making me go back and clean it again if I only did it half-way. I blame her for the outline I drew up containing all the major bullet points of the things I wanted to clean and then some minor points so they didn't get forgotten. (don't judge me, it's Her fault remember.) I blame her for beating the importance of proper grammar into each of her children causing me to obsessively read and reread this little blog scouring it for flaws. I blame her for how much I love shoes. I blame her for making me different from others by showing me that it's more important to make decisions based on your convictions rather than on what is socially acceptable. I blame her for how important I think it is to stay home and care for my children. I blame her for how I love others.
Mom, I am all your fault.

My cleaning plans were derailed slightly by a feverish toddler. I spent a better time of my morning holding Braden in my lap as he drifted in and out of sleep. Once in awhile I would ask if he wanted to go into his bed and he would always say, "No, I want to sleep in your lap." I couldn't think of a reason, good or bad, to deny his request. So we snuggled together almost all morning.

I handed him off to the Coach long enough to run to the store for some pedialyte and milk with Bella and got to listen to her rattle on and on about some nonsense. I honestly could not tell you what a single thing she talked about meant, but she had some big stories to share and I was more than happy to listen. On the way out of the store I let her buy some Girl Scout Cookies and she overheard me talking to the lady about where to sign her up for Girl Scouts. I'm pretty sure she told everyone she talked to for the rest of the day that she was going to be a Girl Scout.

After that the kids settled in to watch old Ninja Turtles videos on youtube (God bless you, youtube.) and I turned on my ipod and dusted, vacuumed, swept, mopped, Lysoled my bathroom and ran laundry. After my house was clean, I made tacos for my family and we ate dinner. Then I cleaned the kitchen. Again. I think I might be sick in the head because I loved every minute of it.

Thanks alot, Mom.

If Inner Beauty is Such a Big Deal Why Have I Never Made the Cut?

It used to be tradition that my brother would buy People's 50 Most Beautiful issue for me on my birthday. I loved it. I even remember on my sixteenth birthday one of my friends ripped Pierce Brosnan's picture out to take it home with her. I've never gotten his appeal, I suppose I'm just more of a Daniel Craig girl...mmm...I digress.
People have since changed the format of this issue to include 100 people (and yet I still haven't made the list) and my brother stopped buying it for me years ago (I don't know when he stopped loving me. I kid, I kid, I think). So today I bought it for myself.
I was flipping through pondering the important questions it raised, such as, "Is she (Lindsey Lohan) too skinny?" (YES) "Are Josh (Lucas) and Rachel (McAdams) apartment hunting?" (sinners) and do I care that Casey Aldridge was injured in a truck crash? (No, which raises the question, am I a bad person?). Then I stumbled across this gem by Tina Fey*,

"Sometimes when I injure myself, I laugh uncontrollably. I know it's a weird reaction. I can't explain it. For example, the other day my daughter accidentally head-butted me right in the crotch bone, and I just kept laughing, thinking about how only parents, soccer goalies and giants have to worry about the head butt to the crotch."

I have never wanted to be head butted in the crotch bone before but strangely now I have the urge. Maybe the next time Braden runs at me at full speed instead of raising my hands to defend myself I'll just let it ride. That way I'll get to find out what it's like to be a giant. I might even yell Goooooaaaaalllll!! afterwards.

*Tina Fey, I might love you a little, but only when I've been drinking.

Request and Dedication

This next song goes out to Mr. Punk. You will no longer be the only vigilante running in the sewers. Enjoy the company.

She might be plastic but her feelings for Bret Michaels are real

Over the past few months Braden has discovered the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. He plays with the figurines, pretends to be Donatello at the Mall, eats pizza and refuses to do anything he believes a turtle wouldn't do.

As a side note, I'm not sure if I'm proud or ashamed but I can sing along to the theme song in it's entirety. Go ahead, try, you know you want to.

That was fun wasn't it. You are so going to be humming that all day now.

Yesterday we stumble across an April action figure and snatch her up just as quick as we can because well we wouldn't want to NOT have an April. Seriously what kind of parents would we be if we didn't make sure our son had an April action figure? This morning Braden asks me to play with him and hands me April so he can be Donatello. Not the action figure mind you but actually pretend to be Donatello while I followed him around with the April action figure. (I'm just relieved I didn't have to dress up in a yellow jump suit.)

At one point I look down and take a good look at April and this is what I see.

That hair, that outfit, those plastic boobs...

...um, those eyes.

She looks like a crazed lunatic from the 80's.

She looks strangely familiar actually. I'm pretty sure she was on the last season of Rock of Love.

Uh, Bret, I think I found the girl that fell off the bus.

Ugh. My life is boring

So there hasn't been much going on around here lately. I've been scouring the internet for word on any Free Agency signings by the Bills. So far it justs looks like Fitzpatrick, Hangartner, Florence and a whole lot of back and forth speculation about Coles.
My life is seriously boring.
I saw this picture online of a flower in California and it spoke to me, it said, "move to California". I'm pretty sure that's not going to happen. Although Governor Patterson is trying to withhold all state worker's pay for 5 days and then not give us the raise that was promised in our PEF contract so maybe I could talk the Coach into it. Probably not. Honestly though how much money does the Governor make? I get that he's trying to make ends meet in a recession but so are the rest of us and we are doing it with ALOT less money. And I'd be more than willing to give up our annual raise this year if you can guarantee me that my heat, electric, garbage pick-up, phone/internet/cable and grocery bills won't increase either. Ugh, the whole thing just disgusts me.
Speaking of disgusting, I'm potty training Braden. I promised him yesterday that if he went all day without peeing in his pants he could wear his Bumblebee (transformers) underpants. Today, true to my word, I put his Bumblebee underpants on him and then he pooped in them. If you had super-cool Bumblebee underpants you wouldn't poop in them would you? Of course not. Once again. Ugh.

On a less "ugh" note, Bella started crying this morning because I told her I wasn't going to throw her a fifth birthday party if she didn't start acting like a big girl or something to that effect. Big old crocodile tears. Not because I threatened to take away a birthday party but because as she put it, "I don't want to be 28" um,...what?
I assured her that she didn't have to be 28 but I can't promise that I didn't laugh in her face.

All right off to wash some dishes. woo hoo. It's just crazy over here.

I'll have what he's having

Being only 2.5, Braden is prone to wander into our room in the night to sleep with us. I usually make him get back into his own bed because I can't sleep with extra people in my bed. (I'm not touching that one) But last night we watch the Changling and while it's an excellent film, it's about children being abducted. At several points during the movie my arms actual ached to hold my kids. So when Braden and Donald Duck found their way into our room at 2am I just pulled them into bed with us and snuggled my baby.

Then like an hour later I woke up to Braden laughing in his sleep. Out cold, belly laughing. It was the best sound ever.

How I waste my time

For what it's worth don't waste your time watching Frozen River. That's an hour and thirty-seven minutes I'll never get back. It was nominated for best actress and screenplay, um, why?

If you are looking for a few minutes of entertainment check this out. Penguins, Marshawn? Really? Who'd of thought.

Also I was in Target last night and bought Bella a my little pony and Braden got a new transformer (perhaps I'm not as defective as orginally thought). I am now reminded why I don't buy new things. I've been up for 30 minutes and have already turned bumblebee back into a car no less than six times.

Bella and Braden

So I thought I'd check in. I laugh at myself for "checking in" on purpose. No one knows about this blog so clearly no one reads it, yet I check in.

I keep thinking I should post some about my kids. Honestly they both have colds and are insufferable these days. Still I love them, I swear. My daughter will be turning five in the spring, it's sort of a bizarre feeling. I kind of feel like I'm not any older than I was when she was born but FIVE, my god. I'm going to have a five year old.

So I love this picture b/c it hosts two of the things I love the most. No I'm not talking about my brother-in-law, lovely as he is with his face all stuffed with burger. I'm talking about my girl and the Buffalo Bills. I'm sad and pathetic I know. My husband, his brother, his godmother and I take the kids to one Bills game a year and this was us tailgating in 08.

Not to be forgotten is my sweet little girl's beast of a brother. A brother that had mommy up at 4 am on Sunday. Yes, 4 am and then didn't go back to sleep and made sure I didn't either. He's 2.5 and at an age that's so cute and lovable and so awful and miserable all at the same time. It's a good think he's cute. I'm just saying.

You may have noticed the doll house behind him and (be prepared to be mortified) I let him play with it. I encourage him too. (seriously, whatever keeps him out of trouble)

For those of you (who aren't reading this blog) who are greatly troubled at this I assure you that he has an entire room dedicated to bulldozers and matchbox cars. Sleep easy knowing that.