Tattle-tailing

Sam was watching TV the other day, unaware of the plot being hatched against him by his brother.

Noah was busy drafting another letter to Santa Clause:

It reads:

"Santa, I have to give you a bad report about Sam. He was whining at my mom and he didn't answer me when I was talking to him."

(Mother's note: This time Noah's letter was accurate. Although clearly from the above picture, the whiny moment passed quickly.)

Sam grew concerned over this bad report so I assured him that I would not mail the letter to the man in the red suit.

My boys are in the tattle-tailing phase. Generally, it drives me nutso. Although I adore this letter to Santa. And the fact that it was written in April.

Oh Happy Day!

Glee starts back up tonight. This is the BestShowEver™.

I’m doubly excited about it because tonight Idina Menzel is guest starring. She played Elpha on Broadway’s Wicked, which I was fairly obsessed with. I saw it twice (in Chicago) and I’m pretty sure Noah had the soundtrack memorized as a fetus. And since my obsession had not subsided until well after his birth – even now it just lies dormant, but it’s still there – he would rock out to Wicked with me in the car, babbling along with the words, banging his little fists to the rhythm and laughing at all the right places.

If anyone wants to come over and join me tonight for a Glee party, you know where I’ll be!

Happy Easter!

I hope you all had a very happy Easter! We had a wonderful weekend. The Easter Bunny filled the boys' baskets:

Noah was especially excited about the dollar in one of the eggs. And I realized that I could get away with much less effort as far as Easter preparations go (apparently, all I need to do is put dollars in eggs and call it a day).

Oh, and isn't it hilarious that Noah likes to just wear boxers to bed now? He's like a teenage boy. Speaking of, I thought he looked so funny (in a super cute way) and teenage-ish the other night that I took a picture:


Anyway, back to Easter...

After we opened baskets and did a mini-egg hunt around the apartment, we joined some friends for a much better egg-hunt and a delicious brunch.

Love these little boys...

My Dual-Purpose Welcome Mat

The other day I received a package. I was not at home when it was delivered, but luckily the thoughtful (and clever) delivery man hid it, successfully eluding any would-be thiefs.

Here I go again...

(My friend asked me a question in a comment she left on one of my recent posts. My answer was too long for the comments section, so I wrote this post instead).

Two years ago (almost exactly) I wrote on my blog about how I can't stand the "Mommy Wars" between stay-at-home moms and working moms. How I think both sides need to stop being so judgemental about the other, etc, etc. It was written long before I became a working mother myself. Now that I have been on both sides, I feel even more strongly that we all just need to realize that the grand majority of mothers - working or not - are truly doing the very best they can and want nothing but the best for their children.

I have been priveleged to know many fabulous mothers in my life. My own mother, my sister, my sister-in-laws, my friends, my co-workers. I know for myself that I try to be the best mom I can possibly be to my two little boys. I love them so much it's almost absurd and everything I do and every decision I make is done with their best interests in my mind and heart. This was no more true when I was a stay-at-home mom than it is now, as a mother who works full-time. My children are healthy and happy and loved and well-cared for. This was no more true when I was a stay-at-home mom than it is now. I work very hard and I believe I have a lot to contribute. This was true then, and it's true now. And while I know I can only actually speak for myself, my observations of both the SAHMs and the working moms in my life have been very similar.

I think it's easy to pass judgement on those who make choices different than our own. But life is hard and we are all feeling our way. And we can make choices that we feel are right without thinking less of those who choose differently.

All in all, I think women need to be nicer to each other.

(Having said all this, I wonder how much of this "mommy war" crap is fueled by the media. In my personal experience, this is not really an issue I've dealt with in real life, on an individual level. The SAHMs I know don't sit around bashing working mothers, nor do the working mothers I know sit around disrespecting SAHMs. I guess we're all too busy living our lives and being good moms.)

You can read my original post here:

The Feminine Mistake

You know what makes me happy?

Spring Break traffic! It’s fabulous! I sailed to work in 23 minutes today.

That sure beats the HOUR AND FORTY FIVE minutes it took me to get home from work last Thursday. Thanks a lot, overturned oil truck. The traffic report that day was literally, and I am quoting the traffic man on 96.5, “Good luck with that.”

Oh, also, here is what I learned from the elevator TV this morning. Apparently, a good March Madness snack substitute for chips is a bag of beans. Seriously, that was the suggestion. Can’t you just see a group of guys cheering on their teams and then reaching for a handful of BEANS to munch on?

Yum.

On a much less soap-boxy note...

This weekend the boys and I went to the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo (just can't get enough Texas this week apparently!). It comes around once a year for about a month and it's a really big deal here. This is actually my first year going. Technically, we just went to the livestock show and the carnival on the grounds outside the rodeo. Maybe next year I'll add the actual rodeo to the fun.

First up we went to the livestock show. We saw newborn chicks and calves and piglets and lambs (one that had been born that morning - so cute). We also went to the petting zoo area, which was definitely a gesture of mommy love because I am not the biggest fan of those things (they gross me out, especially since Noah gets all excited about feeding the animals but then wants me to do it first; eww). Sam decided to sit it out with my girlfriend; I was jealous.

Here are some pictures of Noah and my friend's son with the animals:






Next up was the mechanical bull-riding! Noah was a total champ and had so much fun (Sam decided to sit this one out too):


We spent the rest of the day eating lots of delicious fried food. I think Houston's dubious award of Fattest City in America is a direct result of the Rodeo. I had fried zucchini with ranch, fried banana, fried oreos and fried Snickers (Oh. My. YUM).

We did take some time out from our fried feasting to play lots of games and ride lots of rides:




This was our last ride of the day (the kid's roller coaster which was actually very fun for me too!). Sam was such a sweetheart; he cuddled up to me on the ride and laughed up a storm and then about half way through he turned to me and said, "Mommy, this one scares me!"

I will leave you with a video of Noah on the mechanical bull. Nevermind the crazy "Yee-Haw!" lady in the background (that would be me).

I Definitely Am, It Turns Out

I am posting the following with the understanding that this is the type of topic that is inherently fraught with emotion and prone to misunderstanding. Because of all that, it is difficult to really tackle in a blog post. With that said...

There is a wonderful discussion going on over on this blog (which is a public, “professional” blog so I feel fine linking to it). This is a subject about which I feel very passionately, so I have read each and every one of the 500+ comments on this post. For the most part, the discussion has been very respectful and most of the posters on both sides have been thoughtful and articulate (minus a few quackadoodles and those who equate a differing opinion with a vicious attack).

Here was my main contribution to the conversation (I think I was commenter #412):

“You know how it is really frustrating when people base their opinion of an entire group of people on what a few people in that group say/think? That is how I feel right now with people rejecting feminism because of the relatively few feminists who hate men, or called SAHMs parasites, or consider men unnecessary.Just because a feminist or some feminists felt or feel that way or said that offensive thing does not mean that that is what feminism is about and it does not reduce "feminism" to an ugly thing.

Feminism is wanting equal rights for women. I am really baffled as to why any person would want to reject such a beautiful and important thing.

I feel like many of the commenters are truly missing the point on what feminism actually is. I also think it's scary when people get complacent and feel the fight is over just because now women make ‘pretty much’ what men make. Complacency is dangerous. Our foremothers didn't fight and go through everything they went through (including torture... literal, physical torture) just for us to get complacent.

One last thought to the people who don't like the term "feminism" because they prefer "humanism." I agree with you in theory, but there is an excellent reason it's called feminism; men haven't had to fight this fight (at least not for themselves - God bless the ones who fought for women). Their rights have been automatic and assumed. THAT is why it's called feminism and I embrace the term, even if I don't agree with every single thing that every single feminist has ever said.”

Originally, I had this paragraph in there as well:

“I am grateful that so many commenters before me have been so eloquent and well-spoken because honestly, the only coherent thought I had immediately upon reading this post was, ‘Are you freaking kidding me?’”

I took this out because it was kind of rude and I didn’t want my point to be lost in emotion, but this is my blog now and I can write whatever I want and be emotional if I feel like it so… Are you freaking kidding me?

There was so much more that I would have said were it not for the fact that so many fabulous commenters already beat me to it. And it’s not that I disagree with ALL of what the original poster was saying. Of course men and women aren’t the same. I, too, celebrate those differences. But for heaven’s sake, so do the grand majority of feminists! The feminist movement is about striving toward equal rights and opportunities and choices and respect and VALUE. And to quote one of the other commenters who was quoting someone else, I look forward to the day when this is no longer an issue. But unfortunately, we aren’t there yet, and the mere fact that there is so much confusion regarding the movement in the first place is a testament to that. To reduce and then dismiss feminism because of the terrible misconception that it is all about wanting to turn women into men or trying to eradicate any and all differences between the sexes is, in my opinion, so completely absurd and unfounded it just makes me want to cry. Or burn my bra.

(Just kidding – I love my bra and would never do anything to hurt it; it’s the only reason I look like I have boobs. And I quite like pretending I have boobs. Not quite as much as I would like to actually HAVE boobs, but I digress…)

This is Why They Called it the Wild, Wild West

Yesterday Noah had a kindergarten rodeo at his elementary school. It was so fun and the kids were adorable (naturally). First up was the parade through the halls with their homemade horses:


Next I admired the rodeo decor:

Then we all headed outside for the fun and games. There was the bean-bag toss through the windows of the Alamo, and then the kids got their horses ready for some racing:

But then this happened:

Poor boys!! I felt so terrible because I think the video clearly shows that it was my side-line shout-out that distracted Noah and caused him to run off course. Talk about Mommy guilt! Fortunately, neither of the boys was seriously hurt. I took them both to the office to get some ice and they were totally fine after a couple of minutes. Which is a good thing because we still had the bandana races (which were free from any cowboy collisions) and the chili cookoff left.

Me and my little buckaroo:

Plea for McDonald's Toys

Okay, my kids LOVED those Alvin and the Chipmunks McDonald's toys but the promotion ended before we were able to collect them all. Now I am begged on a daily basis to go to McDonald's so we can get a happy meal with Theodore and no amount of explanation seems to convince my children that those toys are gone.

I am embarassed to admit that I went so far as to buy a crappy McDonald's Theodore off eBay AND I emailed McDonald's corporate offices trying to track down franchises that still have them (I'm not kidding) but I refuse to compromise my dignity that way any further.

ANYWAY, I am still missing one Alvin and one Theodore. Does anyone have them? If you do, and if your kids aren't obsessed with them the way mine are and you were just going to throw them away like I normally do with happy meal toys instead of going on a scavenger hunt for them like a crazy person, can I have them?

Going Private...

Hey Folks, I think I'm going to go private with my blog. Email me or leave me a comment if you want in and I'll add you to the list.

He's Crafty

Ever since Noah has learned how to write, he loves making cards and lists for people. I love it too because I get things like this:




Usually, Noah uses this newfound power of his for good. But sometimes…not so much. The other day Sam was not doing what Noah wanted him to do. Noah tried to appeal to me for help, but I simply reminded him that he is not the boss of Sam (I sometimes find myself reminding Noah that he is not the boss of me either). Noah realized he was getting nowhere with me, so I guess he felt that Santa Clause would be his only recourse. He promptly wrote a letter to Santa, detailing Sam’s egregious behavior. It went like this:

Dear Santa,
Sam has been yelling and scring [screaming] at me!
And he throde [threw] his closs [clothes] on the grawd [ground] and he was crying.

(Mother’s note: This letter was definitely an exaggeration.)

Speaking of Noah, he seems to have a sneaky streak in him. This morning he got dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. I told him he needed to wear pants because it is still too cold for shorts. He reluctantly put on his pants and we left for school. Well, as it turns out, I forgot the yard stick that Noah was supposed to bring to school today (they are making horses for rodeo day) so I drove home and then back to the school to drop off the yard stick. So I walk in the classroom and wouldn’t you know it if my wily little child was wearing shorts! Apparently he put his pants on OVER his shorts and then took the pants off after I dropped him off. SNEAKY!!

All I could think was, it’s a good thing he’s a boy. If he was a girl I fear he would be the kind of teenager who wore tube-tops and daisy-dukes under her khakis and sweater-sets.

Really? No, really?!?

Many of you have heard this story so just bear with me while I fill everyone in on the background because it will tie in to the rest of my post.

When I was about 7 months pregnant with Noah I experienced my first encounter with one of those people who seem to believe they can say anything, no matter how hurtful, to a pregnant woman. Evidently in such a person’s mind, the experience of being pregnant renders all emotions and feelings null and void and therefore tact is not necessary and any comment on the pregnant person’s body/appearance/ weight is completely appropriate. So I’m walking up a flight of stairs at church and an older woman walking up the stairs behind me says all cheerfully, “Well hi Amy! How are you feeling today?” So far so good. I reply that I am feeling well thank you and how are you? She then asks while examining my pregnant cankles, “Honey, are your legs swollen?”

Now here is where I should tell you that indeed, my legs were swollen. Pregnancy likes to mess with my legs. But I thought the question – and especially the implication – was so rude that I didn’t want to admit that. So I said with a smile, “No, I don’t think so,” thinking that she will probably then recognize the rudeness of her question and feel bad. Because I was suddenly feeling all passive-aggressive like that. But no. The woman, without skipping a beat, says, “Oh, well I guess you just have big legs then.”

Oh, yes she did.

Well I had no idea how to respond to that so I slowly turned around and walked away without saying another word. (But then I sat down on a pew and cried).

Anyway, fast forward 6 years to today. I’m at work and one of my co-workers sees me and says all cheerfully (why are these comments always delivered so cheerfully?), “Ooh, Amy I love your tights! They make your legs look big.”

The tone was complimentary. As was the first sentence, so I was really caught off guard with the second one. People, does the word “big” mean something different than I think it does? Because surely these women – who are otherwise friendly and nice – can not possibly think it’s okay to tell someone to her face that she has big legs. Am I missing something here?

The moral of this story is that I guess it is time to take up running again.

Finger-Lickin' Good

So this morning the boys and I went on a Sunday morning drive to the donut store. When we got home and ate our donuts we all sat on the couch to watch some cartoons. Sam and I were snuggling when all of a sudden he started licking his hands to get the glaze-remnants off. I'm talking a full-on hand licking, using full tongue from wrist to fingertips. So I'm just kind of staring at him incredulously while he is devouring his hands and when he notices my staring he stops mid-lick, holds both hands out to me and says, "Lick them off?" like he's offering me a treat.

Um, thanks buddy. I'll pass.

Happy Birthday to Me (Cha Cha Cha)!

You know it's a good day when you both start AND end your day with the birthday Cha Cha Cha.

This morning my nieces called and left a voicemail with a very resounding round of Happy Birthday to You (Cha Cha Cha). And tonight Noah and Sam sang me the same song. They were kind enough to give me a repeat performance so I could get it on camera, even though it cut into their cupcake time.



Add in cinnamon rolls from my coworkers, a fun lunch with some girlfriends, cupcakes for dessert, calls from family & friends, and a darling top from Anthropology (thanks Mom and Dad!) and you've got one great birthday!

Except for the part where now I have to be 31.

My Favorite Super Bowl Commercial

Politeness

So my dad is here visiting right now and we’ve been working with the boys this week on not saying “I want” so much because it sounds demanding. So instead, we’ve been encouraging them to say “I would like” or “May I please” or “Would you please” when they want something. To keep it simple and at a kid-level, we have a general rule not to use the word “want.”

This morning my dad dropped Sam off at daycare and the following exchange took place:

Sam: “Grampie, I would like for you to put my animals in my backpack for me please.”

Grampie: “Sam, that is such a polite way to ask! Thank you!”

Sam: “You’re welcome. Now do it.”

Star of the Week

Videos Galore

Here are some videos from Christmas morning. It's only January, so it's okay to still be doing Christmas posts, right? (The answer to that is yes). On my Christmas list next year is a better video camera. But I'll keep the same subjects; they're pretty cute.

Dirty Ringtones

So a couple of months ago I noticed a ringtone on the T-mobile website that was "If you seek Amy" by Britney Spears. I had never heard the song but I thought, "Wow, how perfect! That must be my ringtone!" Because clearly the song is about somebody trying to seek/find/reach a girl named Amy which, anyone calling my phone would be trying to do as well. What serendipity! I promptly bought it and have been very happy with my ringtone selection.

Until last night.

I had some girlfriends over for a dinner party and when my phone rang I quickly relayed the cosmic destiny of my ringtone discovery. Then one of my girlfriends said, "Um, you do know what that song is about, right?"

No, apparently I did not.

Evidently "if you seek Amy" is the cleaned up, radio version of a very very naughty song. The real lyrics are extremely dirty. I will not be spelling it out on my blog (although "spelling it out" is a major hint) because:

1) I am too embarassed to do so and

2) I do not want people who google vulgar things to find my blog.

I should have suspected that something was up with the song because:

1) The lyrics as they are in the radio and my ringtone version don't really make sense and are not grammatically correct and

2) It's a Britney Spears song.

But I didn't think too much about the fact that it didn't make sense and was not grammatically correct because, well, it's a Britney Spears song.

No one can accuse me of having my mind in the gutter. Although you could maybe accuse me of being slighty clueless. Thank goodness I have friends who are with it enough to understand these things (thanks Jenn!). We all had a good laugh over this last night.

By the way, my new ringtone is "Smile" by Uncle Kracker. There's nothing indecent about that song, is there?