Thursday, June 24, 2010

Harper Rose

She is the bomb.

Friday, June 18, 2010

It's all fun and games until...

someone gets an imaginary friend. It started out harmless, super weird, but harmless. Both 3-year-olds created an imaginary event, the concert. At said concert, they had a friend named Michael. Now, they each have a Michael, differentiated by the simple word "My". Here is a few of the MANY things that the Michaels do:My Michael has a red shirt
  • My Michael can drive
  • My Michael likes cookies
  • My Michael read this book at the concert (yep, that event still takes place in the minds of my daughters)
  • My Michael lives in that house (pretty much any house they see)
  • HI MICHAEL!! (screamed at every plane that flies overhead. We live a mile from the airport. 750 planes a get the point)
Now, their dear friend Michael has become a problem. When asked what Michael looks like, they usually say some older man they know or just "an old man." Ok, fair enough. We once saw a Barney episode where an older man was trying to get to his concert and one of the characters was named Michael. Maybe thats it...
But my mind usually sees something more like this:
Now, Michael has started telling my kids that he does not need to listen to me and he doesn't like me. So, Lou's Michael told her that all the DVD's need to be on the couch. When I asked her to tell Michael that her Mom says no, she started crying and freaking out.
In other words, I have two 3 year-olds that are pushing the boundaries of human nerves, but a creepy old man that keeps telling them to do so.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Moms judging moms

Since I have become a mom, I have learned that I can not judge other moms.
But I do.
And I judge others too.
For example, maybe people
should rethink the whole I-use-a-playground-as-a-babysitter thing, or the I-am-so-retro-that-my-kids-don't-need-to-wear-seatbelts followers, or the show-me-the-proof-that-blowing-smoke-in-my-toddlers-face-is-harmful mentality, or, my favorite, the I-dress-like-my-4-year-old-and-she-dresses-like-a-tramp line of thought.
I'm not saying I am better then them, just on a higher plane of existance.



I have moments of great pride in my parenting; potty training, playing
together for more then five minutes without screaming, hugs, I could
go on. Then, there the other moments; when R said she needed a cup of
coffee before she could play, when A said no one can clean milk like
mommy, when R said she is happy she can sit on my lap even if my tummy
us still big. I know they learn these from me somehow. Nah, I'll just
blame grandma.