Did you miss me?

Hell, I missed me.

You probably have learned a few things about me just by reading my blog...I'm crafty like a boss, I swear a lot, I like to take a lot of pictures, my kids are a-freaking-dorable, and I listen to shitty music on the radio. Something that you might not know about me is that I have suffered with depression since I was 15 years old.

Not like, hey, they cancelled Eastwick, that's a bummer (which it is. That show was awesome), but more of the soul sucking, don't want to get out of bed, don't want to get dressed or clean my house, let's have pizza again for dinner because mommy is just trying to get by clinical depression sort of way. This winter was hard. So, that's where I was.

I don't expect your pity or anything like that; something like 19 million Americans suffer from clinical depression, so my problems are not out of the ordinary.

But now, depression has gone and got all personal and is f'ing with my family. Depression better back up and recognize. Or something gansta like that.

Depression ebbs and flows like a tide. Sometimes the tide is in, and you are full and can hardly imagine a time when you will be low again. Then the tide goes out, and you are empty. Just like the tide, there isn't really always a reason (aside from the moon. I mean, I totally realize that the moon is what causes tides), depression just is. You can't stop feeling it just because you want to.

If you're sitting on the beach, and you see the tide go out for the first time, you might be shocked. Floored, and unable to find the perspective to know that the tide will always come back in. After 18 years of dealing with this, I know that however scary those lows are, life is worth waiting for the tide to come back in.

So, little one, I want you to know that you are not alone. I am standing with you.

Confession Time

I have a confession to make. It started when I had my kids. At first I’d only do it in the car, but now it’s gotten worse. I do it all day long.

Sigh.

Here it is. I listen to bad music. SOB! I know. I used to have better taste, but then I had the kids and it all went downhill. I stopped listening to “my” music and put on the radio. I had the best of intentions. I just wanted no swearing (strangely enough I do not swear in front of my children. As soon as they go to bed though I like to curse like a sailor), and the radio seemed the easiest route to get that. Sure, is it fun to try to shout non-swear words over the swear words in songs? Yes. But it is just too damn hard.

Now I have the radio on ALL DAY LONG in my kitchen, listening to the same 12 songs over and over again. It was really cute when my daughter was singing along to Taylor Swift, but sort of less sweet when she’s singing Whistle by Flo Rida (which is unmistakably a song about sucking dick). So I need an intervention, which is where you come in.

I need some new music.

My tastes are pretty eclectic, so I’m willing to listen to just about anything. I’d still like to avoid hardcore swearing though.

Hard limits:

No country

No rar, rar, rar, head banging music

No Bieber

So, if you’d like to leave me your latest fav band or song, I’d appreciate it. Or, better yet, if you want to make me a sweet mixed tape and mail it to me, that’d be rad.

War.

So this week is Screen Free Week or some such nonsense. IDK, I was too busy facebooking and pinning shit to thoroughly research the concept.

However, I am big on limiting my kids' screen time: Playstation, Nintendo DS (which I refer to as the Game Boy, just because I can never come up with the real name), TV, computer...They are supposed to get two hours a day per popular guidelines. I'm not sure who's guidelines those are, but I'm caught between feeling like that's an awful lot and simultaneously feeling like it's not enough. I'd like to plug the little snots into the TV for all but the 11 hours that they're sleeping, but Mommy Guilt prevents me from doing so. Well, that and I can actually see their brains melting after a particularly long Lego Star Wars sesh.

Today, Thing 2 and I were lazing about while the baby was napping, and trying not to turn on the TV for entertainment.

Thing 2: "Mom, don't you want to play a game with me?" The child never asks, Mom, mom would you play with me, or Care to join me for a game, or something that I could possibly answer, No to without feeling like a total failure as a mom. But don't you want to play with me? Gah. Of course I want to. Nothing else I'd rather...

Me: I suppose. You pick out a game; I have to switch the laundry.

I return to the room. Me: What'd you pick?

Him, extending a deck of holographic Star Wars cards to me: I couldn't find anything good. What are these?

Me, already regretting my decision: Playing cards. Want me to teach you to play War?

Him, nodding enthusiastically: Yes!

We spend the next hour and a half (I shit you not) playing War. He's like a War savant and picks it up within a nano-second. Well, it's also possible that you just need to know how to count and he's had that down for a few years now.

I'm really interested in the game for the first ten minutes, but this is mostly in a parental, oh isn't he having fun sort of way.

The next forty minutes I squirm around on the floor trying to alleviate the mounting pressure in my lower back cause from slouching over to repeatedly straighten the slippery holographic cards in their piles.

The next ten minutes, I find relief by lying on my stomach and playing. Thing 2 copies my position and seems to being lulled to sleep by our rhythmic card playing.

Double War!!! This could be it! Maybe he'll get all my K's and I'll go out in a blaze of glory.

Ugh. No. I spend the rest of the card game actively trying to lose; slipping my face cards into his pile when he takes a potty break, including an extra card into lost Wars. The game still plays on for what feels like eternity.

Finally, he turns to me with those sweet (almost) green eyes with beautiful, long lashes that are only seen on pre-pubescent boys and says, "Mom, don't you want to watch TV with me?"

Me: Yes. Yes, I do.

I ate all the Easter candy for lunch; or, How's Your Diet Going?

I get asked that a lot. I guess that's what I get for putting before and after pictures on the Internet, hey? People everywhere are looking me up and down. Hey, eyes up here, all right? Focus on my EYES folks.

This last month has been...meh.

There was a lot going on in March; three birthdays, three birthday parties, two double ear infections (consecutively), a sprained ankle, a mini-vacay, spring break, going back to work part-time, and trying to find time to work on my own business. There was also very little exercising going on (damn you self), and while I managed to eat fairly well, my kids' Easter candy called my name a few times. So did Franzia. He whispers my name softly to me every evening. I try to drone out his sweet voice by screaming even louder at my kids.

While technically, I only gained a pound and a half, I feel like I gained 5. My midsection feels mushy and my energy is way down. This week I've managed to drag myself back on the exercise bandwagon and I'm starting to feel a little better.

I have two weight loss goals coming up.

1. OBGYN visit in early May. What? Don't look at me like that. That scale is OFFICIAL, yo. Plus, is it wrong to want to look your best while up in stirrups?

2. Kiddie pools open June 9th. That's 53 short days from now, but who's counting? Oh, that's right. Me.

Seven Wonders of My Parenting World

The other day my manfriend asked me what the seven wonders of the world are. I said, "I have no idea. The Great Wall of China maybe? Some gardens too. Check out wikipedia, my friend."

But that got me thinking...here are the seven wonders of MY world. I'm sure there are more than seven. Feel free to hit me with suggestions.

1. I wonder how you are unable to hear me telling you to brush your teeth when I'm right in front of you, yet you can hear the Dorito bag opening from across the house.

2. I wonder why you will walk past your father seventeen times in order to find me to ask me a random question that he totally could have answered.

3. I wonder how you fit so much shit in your tiny pockets.

4. I wonder what could possibly be so enticing about your boogers that you would want to eat them.

5. I wonder why you are so opposed to wearing socks.

6. I wonder how it is physically possible for you to produce so much poop.

7. I wonder how you can be hungry ALL DAY LONG. Have you got a tape worm?

Now We Are Six

When I was one,
I had just begun.

When I was two,
I was nearly new.

When I was three,
I was hardly me.

When I was four,
I was not much more.

When I was five,
I was just alive.

 But now I am six,

I am clever as clever.
So I think I'll be six
Now and forever.

Poem by A.A. Milne

Freeloaders



I'm not Alice!

Don't get me wrong. My kids are good kids. They are bright, kind, and, in general, happy. They are generous with each other and do well in school. They are also lazy little bastards! But their days of freeloading are over. That's right. Put a suit on and get a job, son!

Well, maybe I won't go quite that far. How about some simple chores? Sounds good to me. My kids have daily chores that are just assumed  of them. For example, make the bed, brush your teeth, pick up toys, etc. However, at nearly 6 and 4, I think that they are old enough to take more of an active role in keeping this house clean. I did not make this mess on my own; I will not clean it on my own.

So, today I made them (and you!) this handy little chore chart. You can download it as a PSD if you want to customize the colors or fonts or turn off the chevrons or add your kids' names or just as a PDF if you want to just write the squiddo's names on it. There is also a customizable chore list or a PDF of the chores. I plan on laminating mine, but didn't have immediate access to a laminator.

Time to get busy, slackers.

OK, edit the documents if you want or just print them out as is. You can print the chores onto magnet paper available at office supply stores, or you can make your own. Here's what I did:

Gather your supplies. Mod Podge, scissors, chore print out, paint brush, and an old magnet.
If you haven't got Mod Podge, you could just glue the paper on, but you risk the corners peeling up later.
Sometimes you have to take risks though.
I save the magnets that we get from stores, restaurants, and various other random places
and use them for projects like this.
Wash your magnet off for better adhesion.

Mod Podge those little chores on.
Let that dry.
Cut them out.

Affix to something to which magnets will stick. I put it on the fridge.
You could stick it on some metal and then frame it. That would be adorable.
I was too lazy.

And there you have it.
The baby can still freeload, I guess.
I almost didn't use these because you can see my kids' names. Try not to stalk us, OK?