When you look up the picture for wicked....

After another "successful" evening of sucking at parenting, I decided that I should take to "the googles" and look up wicked stepmother.

Of course there was this picture:

I actually look like this A LOT!

Or this famous picture:

 
Another fairly dead on depiction of my face.

And then, shockingly, there was THIS:

You guys, this is how I feel like my face looks 90% of the freaking time.  It's exhausting, and frankly, doing nothing for my wrinkle lines.

I don't know what is wrong with me, but why is it that I have zero tolerance or patience for the things my kids do.  No really, like ZERO!

We are currently on this "new" (and by new I mean, revisited, we've been off it for many months, but here we are again) thing of Max being terrified of the dark, and of doing anything alone, AT ALL!  I mean, for heavens sake, last night he wouldn't even go out to the kitchen to fill his sippy by himself because he was scared.  Tonight, he wouldn't go find his sippy, he just cried and wailed and lamented that he was TOOOO SCARED!  Every night we find him on Maggies bed with her, even though we've threatened certain death if he continues.  And every day it's the same story, "I was too scared on my bed."

So, after I told them both to knock it off and get over it, cause there is NOTHING to be afraid of, and then went to my room....I felt bad. WHAT is wrong with me? Shouldn't I be comforting and consoling them? Shouldn't I be laying there rubbing their little backs until they feel better?  Instead, I'm just irritated that they're being dramatic.  While Max was sobbing about his fears, I hear Maggie say "Max, i need to get some freaking sleep, BE QUIET!"  Then, I felt bad enough about my suckitude that I went in and asked Max what he was so afraid of.  Between his gasping sobs he said, "the dark."  I convinced him to get up and come in my room to talk to me.  But not before Maggie insists that I leave the door open, because she's afraid.  I take him to my bed and try very calmly to ask him WHAT about the dark scares him.  He told me it's all the shadows, and that he's afraid the stickers on their closet door (large paper doll stickers of Maggies) would come alive.  Now,suddenly,  Maggie is bawling and carrying on from the other room, yelling she's so scared.  I'm trying to calmly talk to Max, reason with him, assure him, get him to talk to me, etc.  In comes Maggie with fake crying.  She's just too afraid to be alone, she tells me.  Wait a second here....was she just not miss smarty/rude pants to Max about HIS crying? So, anyway,  we talk about how there is always prayer, and that they are safe, etc.  After a prayer, while I was holding both of them, they calmed down and I was able to finally put them to bed.  THANK GOODNESS! But for reals.......am I the only craptastic "Wicked" mother out there that gets irritated by all this?

Where is all my tender love and compassion?

I think I lost it somewhere.

Or, how about yesterday when I had just finished with lessons, and there was a knock at the door.  There stood Maggie, Max and our neighbor Jessie.  Max stuck his head in the door and with a huge, proud smile stated, "Maggie and me peed our pants."

Uh, Iiiiiii'm sorry, you WHAT?

Yeah, apparently it was just to hard to get to a toilet and so, poof, they PEED THEIR FREAKING PANTS on their way home.  And by Max's very proud announcement, I knew accident was NOT a true term to use here.

I was lit.  I sent Jessie home, I pulled the kids inside and sent them immediately to the shower.  Aint no child o' mine gonna go around making golden showers in their pants "just because."

I told Maggie this was completely unacceptable.  She KNOWS how to use a  bathroom,a nd WHEN to use a bathroom.  She swore that she just couldn't make it in time.  But, that the real story with Max was, once he saw that she wet her pants, she said "ok, I can do that."  "And then he tried really hard, until he did Mom.  You HAVE to believe me on this."

So, let me get this straight, my 5, nearly 6 year old daughter was just to lazy to use the neighbors bathroom, whilst my 4 year old son just thought it'd be good times to piss in his pants.  AWESOME!

Needless to say, I wore my "wicked" badge once again. Forcing them to wash their own selves in the bath and shower and then sending them to bed early.

A short list (if you will) of my wicked mothering ways:
1. I make them wash themselves in their baths
2. I make Maggie wash her hair....ever
3. I FORCE them to brush their teeth.
4. I won't let them eat candy for breakfast
5. I buy Maggie new clothes that aren't to her liking.
6. I dare to ask them to pick up their room
7. I tell them NO, A LOT!
8. They've never been to Disneyland
9. I won't buy them something EVERY time we're at the store.
10. I am terrible about "Playing" with them
11. I yell at them

Oh, I'm sure the list could go on and on. They like to tell me on a daily basis how mean I am, and that I'm so rude.  

Good thing there is picture proof on the googles of that....Otherwise, people might believe ME when I say THEY'RE the rude ones.

Frustrations and feeling bad,

Allyson 

P.S. Word to the wise.  I may have written this whilst half asleep, and then fallen asleep and then published.  Forgive it's shortcomings.
 

It's been ONE YEAR since you came to me...

As I sat for a brief moment tonight watching The Voice, it hit me...One year ago tonight I was sitting on the couch, watching The Voice, timing contractions, trying to decide if they were good enough to be worthy of going to the Hospital.

Then I was reminded.....after Mayzie was born, I promised I'd share her birth story.  Hmm, how embarrassing, seems I never got around to it.  Soooo, how bout a little story of her birth, for her BIRTHDAY!

It is absolutely unbelievable to me that my beautiful, perfect, AMAZING MAYZIE is ONE YEAR OLD today.  Where did the time go. 

How did this sweet, sweet little alien munchkin:

Become this:

 soooo quickly?

April 2, 2012...I went in for my visit to the doc.  I'd been dilated to a 3 and 90% effaced for a week.  He went ahead and stripped my membrane (THAT was most unpleasant) and then we set up my "inducement" for Friday April 5. But the truth was, Jere was having NONE of it.  He was antsy, he wanted this baby out. He was begging me to do the castor oil and orange pop.  I had decided I didn't want to this time, and I really didn't.  We went on some errands and I had a few huge, painful contractions. I thought that was promising.  But then it seemed to subside. When nothing more happened, I decided that I would go ahead and do the castor oil.  I mean really, we all know patience is NOT my thing.  I wanted this baby here too.

At 4:00 I took an entire bottle of castor oil.........and, NOTHING!  I mean literally, nothing happened.  After a couple of hours, I was concerned. Why no poopsy?  Then, FINALLY at 8:00 I had an urge to go potty.  I went, it was not that great, but it started something at least.  The contractions began.  I started counting them at around 9:00, as I watched the aforementioned Voice. They were coming pretty regularly at about 5 or 3 minutes apart.  I knew that I could wait it out at home, but Jere likes to head to the hospital.  I held him off until about 11:00.  We waddled our way to maternity at Banner Desert and checked into triage.  I measured at a 4, this was good, but the contractions weren't that exciting.  They told me I had to be at a 5 in order to stay.  UGH!  So, i did my patented jog around the building in a hospital gown act.  I hate that.  Me in my giant bellied, naked under a gown glory jogging in place in the chapel, walking up and down the stairs, walking, walking, squatting, lunging, whatever else I could think of to get to a 5 and be able to stay.

45 minutes later I toodled back to my nurse, she checked me out and good news, I got to stay. They checked me into a room and let us settle down, and I use that term lightly,  for the night.

The night was long, and mostly sleepless, but not that thrilling.  They told me that the doc would be in around 6 to break my water.  Lies.

Just before 6 a.m. I told them I needed to go to the bathroom.  As I moved to try and get up I heard and felt the wierdest popping sound.  And then there was a trickle running down my leg.  I called the nurse in and told her that maybe my water broke, cause I certainly wasn't peeing myself, but it was pretty wet.  She said, no, you didn't break it, but maybe just punctured it.  She got me up to go to the bathroom.  I went, and there was a good amount of bloody show and I continued to "leak" down my leg.

From there it went pretty quickly.  The contractions came pretty quickly and I was dilated to a six.  I said, let's get this epidural, I'm not interested in no pain, YO!  The doc came in to administer the epidural.  It felt like he was hitting my spinal nerve, it HURT and that had never happened before. But he finally got it in the right place and put the drugs in.  And away he went.

Literally just a few minutes later I was dying.  I was like "Why, WHY does this hurt so bad? I have an epidural, holy CRAP why is this HURTING?" Let's keep in mind that I have not felt childbirth. I'm all about the drugged up birth.  I called the nurse in and she smiled and said "are you feeling a little pinch, a little uncomfortable?"  I was like, "NO, I'm feeling eVERYTHING, WHY?"  And at this point I was dilated to an 8 or 9 or something and there was no doc in sight.  He was stuck in freaking traffic, but on.his.way.  So, I'm literally doing the lamaze breathing, squeezing the crap out of Jeres hand, feeling every blasted contraction,  trying NOT to have a baby until the doc got there. Apparently, the epidural did not so much work, and I'm a fast transitioner.  FINALLY at 8:30 or something like that the Doc rolled in, sat down and told me to push.  I gave it a good push and booyah, she was on her way out.

In just a moment (well, you know, hypothetically speaking) at 8:53 a.m. Amazing Mayzie made her debut, and she was the picture of perfection at 8 lb. 11 oz.  The doc insited that she was really 9 lbs., but when they wiped her off, it took away that oz. 

She was calm and serene from the start.  I remember laying in my room listening to the baby next door cry and cry and cry and cryyyyyyyyy non-stop, and Mayzie had never so much as made a peep.  She literally never cried.  She slept and laid there and looked around and just emminated an aura of peace.  I'm always so grateful for that.  She was a champion latcher and a great little nurser from the get go.  Really too bad that I had to wake up the next morning with a blood clot and ruin the whole nursing thing.

This has been a year of pure joy when it comes to Mayzie.  She smiles for everyone, she's fairly easy to go to anyone.  She is happy, and giggly and sweet and bright, oh so bright.

She started walking 2 1/2 weeks ago, and she's just a girl on the go these days.  She loves to wave at people and blow kisses.  She LOVES dogs and her clearest word is "DOG."  She also says mama, dada, BAH which means bottle, or drink. Other words are bye bye, ba (as in bath) which she very excitedly repeats over and over when its bathtime,  and we swear we've heard Max and a Maggie once.  

She is a fantastic sleeper, she happily goes down for 2 naps a day and down at bedtime.  Rarely is there any fight, and if there is, then she clearly isn't ready. She's very good at letting you know when she wants to sleep, and when she wants something.  She's determined and strong willed.  She does NOT like to be told no, and gets rather easily offended if we say that to her.  She will cry big, sad crocodile tears.

She's incredibly patient and accomodating to all her cousins and her siblings who really love to play with her like she's their real life baby doll.  It's quite adorable to watch her get passed around and fought over by all the cousins.  There is still line ups for turns to hold Mayzie.  I'm so thankful she is loved.

I am so grateful, every day for her sweet addition to our family. I'm thankful for her smile, her peace, her beauty, her fun personality, and the happiness she brings me. She is perfect, she is AMAZING!

 Newborn

 2 mos.

 4 mos. at her blessing

 3 mos. in Greer

 3 mos.

 6 mos. Halloween

 8 mos.

 8 mos. Christmas morning

 10 mos.

 Easter Sunday 11 mos.

 8 or 9 months

 I guess it's not always Sunshine and Lollipops!

Trash to Treasure Tuesday Table Edition

Duhn duhn duhn............................

An actual trash, to treasure!

I TOLD you all, like 8 months ago that I WOULD do it....eventually.

Right, so like 8 or 9 mos. ago now, in the back corner of the magical thrift store in town, my eye caught this solid oak table, buried underneath some not so classy other things.  I bent down and peered at the price.  It said $9.00.  I blinked.  I rubbed my eyes. I stood up, looked around. I bent down again and checked just to make sure.  Mmm hmm, indeed, NINE DOLLARS!  So, next, I did what any disbelieving thrifter would do, I ordered a store worker to get over there, RIGHT NOW! I non challantly asked him if this indeed was the price.  I practically "dared" him to tell me otherwise.  He looked it over and said, "Yep, nine dollars it is."  I then asked him incredulously, "WHY is this so cheap?"  He replied..."So you'll buy it."  Well played Mesa thrift, WELL PLAYED!

I ripped that tag off and marched right on up to the register.  For 9 bucks i didn't care if I NEVER did anything with it, it was gonna be mine.  I was sure there was a lovely project in there.  I had the heavy table lugged to my car and thankfully it fit.

Got it home, pulled it out of the van and promptly placed it in a place of honor in my garage, where it has been buried ever since.  I mean really, it has been such a delightful catchall.  And in those 9 months, I could just NEVER find the motivation or drive to get out there and actually paint the thing.

But, the serendipitous moment came when my fabulous friend Kalli was having a giant (and I mean giant) sale this last Saturday. I mumbled to myself...now is your time VP, get 'er done.  So, I purchased the necessary paint and stain and what have you and then lost all my drive again.  FINALLY at 9:00 Friday night I cleaned out my garage enough to make a project possible.  I lugged the table over, readied the sander and began sanding.  you read that right, me the NON sander, totally sanded that table top, for nearly THREE HOURS! It was ridiculous and I still didn't get it all. Meh! I have no patience, i was ready to move on.

So, sanded, sanded, sanded, sanded, vacuumed, wiped it down, at a snack, wiped it some more and then stained the top. While that was setting, I spray primed, though I didn't need to, just wanted to, overkill.  Then I wiped down the table top and left it to cure while I whipped out the painting. I used the Behr two in one paint, lap pool blue.  It's really a beautiful color, though the pictures don't do it justice.  The painting took no time at all, and I had maggie (yes it was midnight, but she just simply couldn't sleep) to jabber away the minutes.  Before I knew it, project was complete, and I was pretty pleased with it.

So, here ya go:

BEFORE:

 AFTER:

I love her so.  And, apparently, posting it on facebook at 1:20 a.m. was a good thing, because a girl I know bought it that morning, for considerably more than I paid for it.  Then again, it's a great table, and I put a lot of work into that freaking sanding, and such.  Totally worth it though, because the cool rusticness of the top against the smooth, pretty blue of the bottom is awesome.

There ya go.....Trash to Treasure, Over and out.

 

The REST of the story

Right, so the other day I decided it was high time that my little hermit child of never ending I-pad obsession get out and play with a real live person.  Seriously, Max is so weird.  He will play with Maggie and her friends until the cows come home, but if I ask him if he wants to play with ANYONE else, especially, um, you know, boys, he freaks out and says NO WAY!!!  He would MUCH prefer the i-pad. And I do mean, MUCH prefer.  He wakes me up almost every morning (NOT COOL) to ask if he can play on it.  He obsesses over how he'll play with it after school. He makes sure he gets more time than Maggie.  It's insane. BUT, that is NOT why I'm writing this post.  I am writing to say, we made actual human contact and he went on a playdate to his friend Gavins, and then I took them to Chik-fil-A and THEN I took them to the park. And HERE is where the story gets interesting.

But first, a picture, because that is fun:

 

Max and his cute buddy Gavin

(the only boy Max will concede to play with) 

 

And that would be my ridiculously adorable and growing up WAY to fast Mayzie. I know, I'm sorry, my apologies for keeping her goodness from whats left of my blog readership.

So, as I was saying. After our Chik-fil-A excursion, it was off to the park. Truly a more glorious day there never has been.  It was sunny, yet cool, and nary a sweat drop to be found, even standing and playing in the sun. PERFECT!  The breeze was blowing and the boys were ready to play!

There is a little park not far from our house, in a neighborhood that could, well, perhaps be called ghetto. BUT, the park is all brand new and nice and super fun.  As we approached, I was only a little apprehensive, as there were some people there, and they were a smoosh on the less than savory side.  But, i held my head up high and decided to move forward anyway.  The boys ran for the playground and I pushed Mayzie in the stroller, bringing up the rear.

The "people" were a totally skanky Mom who was about 30 years past her prime to be wearing the special, backless t-shirt she was wearing, and her daughter, who was about 30 lbs. over her prime and freshly post baby to be wearing the extremely short and tight shorts and shirt she was wearing.  There was a newborn and a 1 year old in the picture as well.  Anyway....

The boys were climbing on some equipment just inside the playground, while "they" were over on the swingset. The MOM was swinging with her boyfriend, or pimp or whoever.  I was standing in the grass just watching the boys, sort of staring mindlessly and maybe a little taking in the "situation".  Whereupon the daughter (and mother to the young babies) wandered over with a cigarette dangling in her mouth and a beer in her hand and holding a kid(it WAS 1 p.m.).  Yes, I was judging because she was smoking WITH a baby in her arms. BUT then....she took a swig of her beer, swished it around in her mouth and then SPIT IT right on the playground. Where.children.PLAY! In front of me, and directly next to her one year old son, and by my kids.  I was a bit horrified, and grossed out and bothered. So yes, my face may have looked like this:

Or perhaps like this:

Or even just my "normal look:

Though I was really hoping that it looked more like this:

My just, "oh hey, what's up, I'm not staring at you look."  Oh, and also, can we keep in mind that I WAS wearing sunglasses, so you couldn't totally see my eyes.

Unfortunately, my face does NOT mask well when I feel disgust, and well, apparently, I made a face, and she did NOT like it.  She looked up and said "oh, sorry." Then grabbed her kid and headed over toward her Mom, at which point, Mom said "Hey, the baby is hungry."  response:"There is a botttle in the back of the stroller for it." Mom:" You're don't wanna give it your boob?" "NOOOOOO!"
Then she stormed over to the other side of the park and yelled, "Yeah, I know, I'm such a BAD Mom for drinking."

In my head I said, well yes, you are, for drinking in a public park and ONE IN THE AFTERNOON, and for smoking in your babies face, and for wearing those shorts, because THAT is a crime in and of itself.....TO.MY.EYES!!  But, I just stared at the boys and pretended to be super interested in them.

A minute or two later the girl headed back over near us, but then left quickly. I take no blame here, I was NOT looking at her, cause I do NOT do confrontation.  But then I hear, talking at the top of their lungs....."You do whatever the F you want. What did that white bitch (they were white, but wanted to be something else, ifyaknowwhatimean) say? You don't give a F what she says. Bitches like that don't earn any respect, they get NO respect. You go over there and do whatever the F you want."  There was more, but I don't remember.  I was to busy employing my super stealth look away, ignore and act interested in anything but them techniques.  Plus, my ears had glazed over after the 10th F bomb or so.

I won't lie, I was a little nervous.  Last thing I needed was a perfectly good park day ruined with a throwdown and a possible shiv to the spleen.

Just sayin.

Thankfully, they left not long after and we were able to enjoy a little more time in peace and quiet, minus the creepy men who wandered through, and that moment where I had to allow two boys to act indecently in public.  What? They BOTH had to pee RIGHT THEN.  So, I let them, but NOT in the playground part.  See....way classier than that hoochie Mom.

Shanks and pee pee,

Allyson

 

 

You did WHAT????

Hmmmmmmmm.

So this afternoon I took the kids over to Gramma Dars for some visiting and playing. Jere needed to work on homework, which means....he needed silence. And we hadn't been over to visit Dar in awhile.

The kids "helped" Dar go through a tiny tiny portion of her Christmaspalooza and talked to her, as did I. Then, I took Mayzie upstairs to see if i could convince her to take a little nappy nap in the sweet nursery Dar has up there.  I layed her down and waited.  Meanwhile Maggie and Max and Dar meandered outside to the backyard of childhood dreams.  I could hear them playing and Dar talking.  I may have dozed off for a moment or two as well.

Unfortunately, the sound of breakable things being flung to the ground brought me back to reality.  Mayzie was NOT having a nap in no stupid crib and she was gonna show me by chucking ceramic baby keepsakes to the ground.  Booger!  So I scooped her up and was heading down the stairs when I heard this wafting through the air...

"Gramma DAR I peed and pooped in my pants."

Record screech inserted here....

She said, "you did what?"

"I peed and pooped in my pants."

THIS GUY!!

By this time I had made it to the backyard to see Max jumping on the trampoline happily.  I could not for one second believe that he REALLY peed and pooped in his pants.  For the love of all that's potty trained....this child has literally NEVER had an accident in his pants since the FIRST day he potty trained.  No lie.  He peed his pants twice and pooped them once that day and that was it.  We're talking TWO YEARS of clean underpants people!  So why now?

I said to Max....."Did you REALLY pee AND poop in your pants?" with utter incredulation in my voice.  Because SURELY it was some silly joke he was playing.

To which he happily replied, as he was still jumping on the tramp.  "YEP!"

There he was, soaking wet, with a giant el doo-kay in his pantelones, and yet smiling at me like this was nothing to be concerned about.

WHAT THE HELL?

When I asked him WHY he would do such a ridiculous thing he matter of factly replied...."It was a really long ladder to get down and I couldn't get down fast enough." (he was up in the tree house which is literally like 100 feet up in the air).

Needless to say I hustled his poo covered tookus home (making him stand in the car the whole way, shut it, we live around the corner) and threw him in the shower.  Sadly, his undies didn't survive (and they were my favorite pair).  It was so gross.  No really......GROSS!!

Got him cleaned up and happily back to Gramma Dars with nary a playtime missed.

The disturbing part here is....I'm pretty sure he woulda just gone about his playing with caca in the pants had I not ushered him home.

So really?  REALLY?  What in the world.

Good thing he's cute and has a wicked good booty shake, or he woulda been toast.

Poop smoosh and happy boys,

Allyson

Max's Museum Adventure

Last Friday Max got to go on his 2nd field trip ever.  Look, 'tis no secret that I'm none to pleased with his whole preschool experience thus far.  There are still NO wall decorations in the entire classroom for crying out loud.  These are preschoolers, they need stimulation and colorful things to look at.  But, that's niether here nor there.  It also doesn't help that he needs to know spanish to you know, talk to half the kids in his class, but whatever.  He thinks he's "going to school" every day and for the most part loves it (minus that really wierd 2 weeks where he went kicking, screaming and overall losing his damn mind into class each day, after I literally dragged him and carried him in.  That was NOT fun).  He has his friends that he deems worthy, the top of that list being Destiny (of course a girl) and Cesar.  They don't do any learning as far as I can see, just playing, but again, neither here nor there.

Where was I?  Oh yes, last Friday....field trip.  We got the opportunity to go to the Phoenix Childrens Museum.  Ride the big yellow school bus, pack a lunch and all. Max was so excited for this, and frankly, so was I.  I've never been, but heard it was pretty great.

And so, I share a few pics of the day.

First we met up at their playground and Max showed me the flowers HE planted and is growing.

Ready for his first bus ride. Let's not judge the spilled milk all over his shirt. Nor shall we mention the hideousness of my knees digging into the seat in front of me.

Max's beloved Destiny.  His favorite friend at school.

 

One of our first stops:  The "carwash".  This was really cute, and Max woulda stayed on that trike all day if allowed.

 

Then we spent a good amount of time on "the climber", it is a 3 story contraption of metal and tubes and walkways.  Oh, and giant bathtubs and silly boats and such.

I got my big booty all up in that thing. And at first it was ok. See, I'm smiling.

A shot from high up in the climber.

 

But then it got scary. I was seriously about to have a full out panic attack.  I was having to climb through small tunnel/tube things, and climb and crawl and there were a MILLION screaming children and seriously.....I was freaking out.  I was one breath away from a hyperventilate.  Thankfully, i got out and all was well.

Then we went through the jungle of pool foamy things hanging from the cieling.  That was fun.

 

On the other side....we found a book, just for Max.  I tried to read it to him, but he got bored.  He had other things to check out. Which clearly were NOT "his words".  See what I did there?

 

Took a little stop by the car tracks and the pickle car.

Then Max thoroughly enjoyed sticking little stuffed owls onto this thing and then they went up the wall and got flung off by hitting a fan.  A bit diabolical, but the boys LOVED watching them fly through the air.

Lunchbreak.  All Max could think about was how Jayden got to have gatorade and he didn't.  So, I gave in and got him some.  SHEESH!

Outside the lunchroom was this tubey contraption that had super compressed air.  You put little balls in it and watched them shoot around the tube and come flying out an opening.  I swear he woulda spent the rest of the day right there if he could.

 

A quick little splish splash of pink paint on the tree.  A run through the climber and then we were on our way.

 

All in all, a fun, successful field trip.  But, I won't lie to you.  I was EXHAUSTED.  This Mama is just too old for this stuff.  At least that's what I tell myself.  My poor kids, they're so screwed with the old lady as the Mom.

 

Oh well, at least they're Dad is young. Bahahahahahaha!

 

Crazy kids and climbing contraptions,

 

Allyson

 

 

There goes THAT trend....

So, I bought an owl necklace on Saturday.  It's super cute, perfectly sized, blingy and fun.

This can only mean one or two things:
1. I'm finally cool.

or more likely

2. Looks like THAT trend is going out of style..... effective immediately.

Why the pessimism Allyson? You ask.

Well, let's just get one thing straight here....I am NOT what one would call a fashionista.  Furthest thing from it actually.  I mean, I'm not a fashion retard either.  I just live somewhere at the tail end of all things fashion.  If it came blazing into style in 2010, then I'll probably get around to jumping on that bandwagon in late 2012. For instance, those "bubble necklaces" that are all the rage right now, I have not a one in site.  I'm sure I'll find one on super clearance a year from now and finally own one, just in time for everyone else to throw theirs out.  Or how about the color coral, that hideous orangey/pinky hue that it is.   I think its wretched and awful in every way.  Of course, perhaps some time NEXT year it will suddenly grow on me and I'll be accenting my home in it.  It happened with grey, it can't be denied.  I'm just not one to jump quickly into anything.  I need to see it's sticking power and let it grow.

So anyway......I've seen the owls.  Everywhere with the owls.  Kitschy home decore items, shirts, necklaces, pins, jewelry, etc.  And frankly....I've purposely avoided them.  Owls are, you know, sorta creepy.  Plus, my totally wierd and hippie Grandma was WAY into owls back in the day.  Clearly they were NOT cool. Or, it could be the really unfortunate macrame owl that my Mom made sometime in the 70's that hung in our family room for many a year.  Yeah, that could be the deferring piece for me.

But then, they were still here...couple of years and they're STILL here.  Everywhere I turn, OWLS!  I even got Maggie a sassy shirt with an owl on it for pictures.

Cut to Saturday, we're meandering around Tempe Marketplace killing time.  We wandered into Charming Charlies.  HOLY CRAP! Charming Charlies, where have you been all my life?  And I am NOT a real jewelry person either.  Jere wanted to buy me everything he saw (it's a problem) and I just tried to keep him under control.  Anyway....under complete bejeweled mezmerization we happened upon "the owl", in all it's cutesy, whoo whoo glory.  It couldn't be denied.  It made big owly eyes at me and said "buy me!"

So folks, I bought it!  I wore it, I rocked it.

And that is why I am now apologizing to all you lovers of the owl out there.  This can only mean one thing...........

This trend is now all but OVER!

Peace the WHOOOOOO out!

Allyson

Scenes from my i-phone

Max may or may not have a slight obsession with my phone.  Well, with ANYONES phone if he thinks it has games on it.  WOW!  I get asked at least a hundred times a day if he can play a game on my phone.  Generally the answer is no. I refuse to let my kid turn into a video game nerd.  Never mind that he's freshly 4 and already a super genius at all things electronic and can play the heck out of Temple Run and Angry Birds.  That's neither here nor there.  But for reals, he will ask anyone, the moment they cross our threshold if he can play a game on their phone.  Some are too kind and oblige him.  He forever remembers them.  Trust me, he super looks forward to my first lesson on Wednesdays, cause THAT girls Mom has an i-pad that she kindly lets him play on.  BEST 1/2 hour of his week.

Anywho....occassionally he sneaks my phone away, and then I find a literal crap ton of pictures that look like this:

What.is.this?  Besides hilarious that is.

This kid slays me!

 

I also find pictures like this:

 

Though Maggie is smart enough to not really ask me to play games.  She uses the ruse of "can I just LOOK at pictures."  I have some gems of her singing to Mayzie because she didn't realize it was on video.  I also have some super gems of her singing in the shower.  Someday I'll post them to youtube so I can put them on here.  AWESOME!

 

Then there are the pics that I take.  This i-phone is REAL handy.  Hence bloody nose pictures at 3 a.m.  Just sayin.  So, a few that I've taken over the last couple weeks.

 

Two Sundays ago was our Primary program at church.  Maggie let me curl her hair and everything.  It was big doins, they had memorized lines and would be singing the whole program.  I won't lie, it was one of the cutest things EVER to see them standing up there singing their little hearts out.  They knew every word and Max....I can't.  It was just so cute.  Both of them did so great on their memorized lines as well.  I was a proud mama.  Too bad Jeres glasses had gone missing, so he was mostly with his eyes closed, head down, because his head hurt so bad.  I pretty much described the "show" to him like a blind person.

 

After church I took a pic of my pretty ladies.  I actually really love this picture.  Maggie is truly SUCH a good big sister to Mayzie. She loves her so much and takes such good care of her.  She's quite a little Mama, and is always very concerned at Mayzies well being.  And also....there is a clip in Maggies hair, it was a Sabbath miracle.  Well, one in which there was MUCH crying, whaling and gnashing of teeth.  But, I WON and Maggie looked great.

 

One day last week (it was mismatch day at school, in case you couldn't tell) the kids came into the kitchen from the garage giggling.  They told me to look at them, and this is what I found.  They were pretty pleased with their silliness.  Maggies wig is the one I wore in my show.  Maxs is, well, just hideous.

 

We went and got gellato as a family on Saturday night.  Maggie likes me to take her picture....always.  She managed to totally ruin this white shirt with chocolate drips.  Sad days.  But she IS pleased with her pose.

 

And lastly, I leave you with this:

Mayzie enjoyed her first taste of sugary magic.  She was QUITE a fan of the chocolately concoction.  And really, you know how sometimes you just happen to capture a moment and the picture is so perfect.  I mean, she's cute, she's always cute, but in this picture....she's perfection.  I love her and her sweetness oh so much.

 

Someone please remind me to tell you about the sad exchange between Maggie and I the other night about how I "love Mayzie more than Maggie."  Oh 5 year olds.....they know it all.

 

So, there it is....a sampling o' life at Casa VP, thru the eyes of the i-phone.

 

Crazy heads and gelatto lips,

 

Allyson