All About Hats

We lead very exciting lives. So exciting, in fact, that occasionally, we'll head over to Target (on a random errand) and spend an immense amount of time in the hat section. Mentally having to get over the fact that my kids could potentially get lice...I let them entertain themselves and in turn, entertain us.

They can be such goofballs and where they come up with the poses, I have no idea. You would think they were auditioning for some music video sometimes!

(Riley actually wanted us to buy this hat for her...uh, no?)

(Ronan looks like a skater dude here...)

Ronan tends to do this thing with his arms...he crosses them like he's Vanilla Ice.

Gotta love these kids...and the free entertainment. Well, not exactly free. Who can leave Target without spending a little bit of money?!

Leave It To The Professionals.

Brief Background: Two months ago, I was feeling slightly gothic, so I decided to splurge on a box of Nice 'N Easy Black hair color. $6.97 at Wal-Mart. Went home, hit the bathroom and came out a newly topped girl. Shiny black hair. I liked it. It was a change from my blah-dark-brown and considering the mood I was in, it was fitting.

Fast Forward: Yesterday, 8 weeks after my goth hair color change, I decided that I wanted to go back to brown for the spring and again, splurged on a $6.97 box of #129B Brown. 25 minutes in a towel smelling like a chemical spill, I washed out the color and began the process of blow drying...because that's when you can REALLY see what you've done.

After blow drying upside-down, I excitedly flipped it all over and looked in the mirror. Oh. My. God. No. I. Didn't. What was supposed to be a new me, ended up be a shocked me. I had light brown roots and jet black hair. I looked like I had a new crown of light roots. No angle looked good. Not even a ponytail. I was freaking out.

Naturally, I texted Ryan and expressed my feelings. None were good. I was mortified that I had done this to myself. He insisted that I call Tony, my normal stylist, and schedule an appointment to get it fixed. I couldn't bring myself to do it though. I was so embarrassed that I was too cheap to go to him in the first place and pay the $65-95 he charges for color. But then Ryan said it:

"Get it fixed because I don't want to hear you complain about it." (In his most loving tone.)

Insistent that I wanted to save the money, I told him it was okay and that I would just deal with it until we moved...but as we were so close to the shopping center of the salon, I reluctantly walked towards it, internally excited and desperately hoping that Tony could fit me in sometime in the next couple days.

At 10 a.m. today, I walked in, sporting my ponytail and scared to see the man who would have to fix my hair. He gently played with it, reassuring me that I wasn't the first one to come in with this issue and that it wasn't "really that bad" and that he "had seen worse."

$149 later (not counting the gratuity), I left with a beautiful set of highlights and a new haircut. I'm happy. And, I learned a lesson...just because you are trying to save money doesn't mean that you actually WILL, especially when it comes to hair. This is just one of those times you have to leave it to the professionals.

Cocomae.com

A friend just launched a business online...she's got women's dresses, indie clothing, vintage clothing, junior clothing and so much more.

Would love it if you checked out her site (and let her know I sent ya!)

Go to www.CoCoMae.com and happy shopping!

A Post Baby Body.

I'm working on it, still. Uhh, it'll be 3 years, 3 months and 10 days (as of tomorrow.) I have aspirations, I do. I visualize my body, in a bathing suit. And frankly, it makes me slightly nauseous...which would probably help me lose some weight -- okay, okay, not a funny joke.

But in all honesty, I know I have a deadline now. It'll be 11 weeks until the hubby and I head to Key West on our first-ever-without-children-vacation/stress-about-not-being-with-the-children-for-the-first-five-minutes vacation. And between me, you and my treadmill....I'm panicking.

I am not overweight. I know that. In fact, I'm probably the healthiest weight I have ever been, since I was 7-years-old. But, those of you that celebrate birthdays, that have had children, or that enjoy chocolate as much as I do, know that as the days pass into years, the body begins to settle in ways you never knew it could.

I mean, how was I to know that my hips were going to shift two inches in AND out? And in my younger days, would I have ever really considered participating in the vibrating machines at the mall to get rid of my cellulite?! Probably not...although now, I'm wishing I had one of those things at my house!

I'm getting to the point where anxiety to firm up is clashing with the fight against eating that one last chocolate chip cookie -- just so I can get it out of the house. Do I really need to wear that $100 bikini vs. the deliciousness that is a chocolate chip cookie made with Ghiradelli chocolate chips?

I'm kidding. Obviously, I'd choose the bikini. (For one thing, I can't return it now...they have a 'No Return' policy.) But, I DO want to look decent for my vacation. I want to feel good when I walk around...I just want to know why it has to be so much work? Whatever happened to a metabolism?!

I guess I'm just venting because right about now, I'm wishing I had a quick-solution weight-loss pill or a trainer and personal chef on hand to help me get through it. Oh well...enough blogging, time to sweat it off. Wish me luck.

Sweet Thought Shoppe

I'm a huge fan of handmade items. It's even better when the person making them is part of your extended family: The Coast Guard family...

One of my fellow "Coastie Chicks" handmakes these dresses (among other things) for a reasonable price. You can find more of her items at her store, The Sweet Thought Shoppe or visit her blog for more information.

(Neopolitan Dress)
(Red Hot Dots on Teal Smocked Dress): notice the smocking...so cute for spring! She makes kids and adult sized items!

***She's offering a 10% discount to my readers. Just mention my blog when you place your order!***

Potty Mouth...not Potty-Trained

(Not meant for sensitive readers...)

If I didn't want my kids to know what I was talking about, I would spell out words... Ryan and I would have almost this secret code between us -- when talking about something serious or secretive while the kids were around. Example. Did S-A-N-T-A buy the gift or did W-E? That works for a while...until your kid learns to read and suddenly, she answers back: What did Santa buy?

After that phase ended, it was evident that conversations not meant for children ears would have to be held in private OR, until after bedtime. I wish I would have had that in mind during those moments when I would drop the S-bomb around my son.

Thinking that he didn't know what I was saying or even pick it up, I internally reprimanded myself to not do that again. And then it would happen. I'd drop my phone. Forget to replace the toilet paper. Get splashed while doing dishes. Shit Shit Shit Shit Shit.

And then it really happened. While sitting out in the lanai for dinner last night, my little innocent 3-year-old knocks over his cup of water to which he then responds with a hand on his cheek: Oh Shit.

Quickly to clean it up and get out of the room to belt out a laugh, I couldn't believe I heard those two words come from his mouth. To not make a big deal and draw attention to it, I did not bring it up. He didn't say it again.

Until now.

While playing Batman with him, my necklace got caught on the hook of his toy and when I turned, the Batman tower fell over. Like a knee-jerk reaction, Ronan's first words in response were: Oh Shit. Softly, I said to him, "What did you say?" And nonchalantly, he responds, "I say Oh Shit." Like it was nothing. I didn't respond back. I honestly don't know what to say. And now, being that I had to run to the computer to blog about it, it's too late to bring it back up.

I'm thinking I'll just tell him it's not a nice thing to say the next time it comes up and hope that it doesn't interfere in our everyday conversation again.

Lovey Dovey Ronan

Just had to share what a lovey dovey my little man can be...

Had an awesome visit with his Godparents, Rochelle and Steve, this weekend. While Ronan was playing monster trucks with Steve on the floor (consisting of rolling these trucks back and forth and back and forth...) Ronan blurts out:

"I wuv you Teeve."

To which Steve responds..."What?"

While the rest of us in the room are saying "awhhhh..."

And Ronan responds to Steve: "I said I wuv you."

Honest to God. How cute is he? No prompting from us. He's just a lovey little boy...when he's not hitting his sister.

Can't wait to hang with R&S soon...love you guys.

Prayers for a friend, please...

I've posted in the past about little Rowan before...but if you wouldn't mind sparing a little time for prayers, it would be appreciated...

My sorority sister, Liz, posted an update on his Caring Bridge site and it's taking everything to not burst into tears for what Rowan and his family have been going through...

Squeeze your kids a little tighter today...

Picky Eater + Illnesses = Frustration for Momma

I have posted about this before. Ronan is a picky eater. Beyond picky. Obsessive picky. Add in his allergies to peanuts, eggs, milk and treenuts AND his aversion to mushy textures and we've got problems. Major problems.

I used to take him to speech therapy for it. The therapist would make him touch all different foods I'd bring in (applesauce, cereals, breads) and we would sit in hopes that a trace of it would make it to his mouth. Rare. You expect your kids to put their hands in their mouths after they touch everything, yet my little man would turn on his "don't put my hands in my mouth with that applesauce on there!" radar and well, I'd be left sitting in this office, wiping his hands with a dozen baby wipes.

I'm frustrated, to say it nicely. We've catered to his allergies -- obviously avoiding them all so he doesn't get sick or end up in the hospital. I've been nice to him by making him his nuggets and tater tots and fetching his ice/water. But, I'm tired of it. I feel like everytime he gets sick, it's because of his crappy eating and frankly, I'm just exhausted...emotionally. What the heck did I do wrong? I'm used to being judged. I know people judge me all the time because of his eating habits and while I sit and justify all that I do...I don't feel like they understand what I go through and the tears I shed as I stand in the kitchen staring at the fridge just praying that maybe, just maybe, Ronan will hold the apple.

We eat fruits and veggies. Riley eats everything. She'll try anything just once. In fact, the girl loves fruits and veggies. Place Ronan into the same room with her and no joke, they are polar opposites. I don't know what to do.

Other parents/non-parents have said to me that they would starve the kid before giving in and cooking the nuggets. I get that. I have said the same thing. I have fought with myself mentally and outright have told Ronan he won't be eating anything until he eats a banana. It never works out. Battle of the wills and Ronan will win. I admit it. But, I am tired of the hypothetical advice...I need Supernanny with me to get me through that moment.

So of course, I researched. "Feeding picky toddler with allergies" and "toddler won't eat fruit and veggies" and "I'm ripping out my hair trying to feed my kid" -- and everything seems to go back to pureeing and hiding the veggies in fruit. I'd love to do that. I'd love to puree veggies and put them in pasta sauce. He doesn't eat pasta or pasta sauce. He doesn't like the wet texture. While we had him eating pizza (sans cheese) and extra sauce, he did a 180 one day and refused pizza, eating only crust. Do I want him to dip into sauces? Sure! Except he won't even play with it.

I get through the day thinking that it can't last forever...but when he lets out a huge cough or gets a fever, I blame myself because I can't get him to eat. I can't even get him to lick a gummy vitamin. Mother-of-the-Year nominee, right here, people.

Sleepover Success

Why I even worried for one minute, I have no idea. Actually, I do. I'm naturally a worrier, so even when it comes to 7 and 8-year-olds...I worry about whether or not they will have a good time. They did! (At least that's what they said when they started planning the NEXT one!) We made tie-dye tank tops (see above), puffy painted purses and I hot-glued flowers onto flip-flops as their sleepover favors. They did all the things you picture little girls doing at a sleepover...they jumped on beds, sang along with Taylor Swift, watched a couple episodes of iCarly, junked out on ice cream and stayed up past their normal bedtime, telling stories with flashlights and giggling.

It was great to see Riley go through this experience and I'm looking forward to her hosting her next one -- as I know what to expect the second time around...although I don't know what crafts I'll do then!

A Social Life, After Children.

I am thankful for my mom. Although not able to appreciate her growing up, I truly do now, especially since she's been visiting us for the past couple months. With her visit, it's allowed Ryan and I to have a social life again. Something we didn't really participate in, at least not the way we did 8 years ago (pre-Riley!)

This past Saturday, we went out with another couple to dinner and a piano bar and it was just so much fun to be out, spending time with Ryan -- realizing even more how much I love him and just enjoy being around him. (Doesn't hurt that he's hysterical when he's had a little bit of alcohol.) We're definitely taking advantage of having Grandma around, especially knowing that at our next unit, we'll know noone and I know it'll be forever before I can trust anyone to babysit our children...

Now, it's just trying to figure out what to do on our next date night out!

Tooth Fairy: $3.25 poorer

And Riley...$3.25 richer. It finally happened. At 8:55 a.m. on March 1st, Riley finally lost a tooth and couldn't wait to show us the tiny little bud she had bagged in her pocket. After telling us how it "didn't hurt" and that she just "twisted it and pulled it out" -- she's $3.25 richer and already looking forward to losing the next one...one that isn't even loose yet.

My Very First Sleepover.

Okay, so it's not MY first sleepover, but it's the first one that Riley is hosting and can I just tell you, I am covered in anxiety.

A few months ago, Riley slept over her friends' house because I was having my sinus surgery. Since that very day, in October of 2009, I swear, these girls have been planning the next sleepover. Riley will call her friends (who are sisters) and they will spend hours on the phone making lists and discussing what they will do at this sleepover.

With us moving in just a few short months, what better time than the present, to finally bite the bullet and host the sleepover these girls have been obsessing over for the past 4 months!

So, I'm not nervous about having them over. (I have security.) I love the girls and they are well-behaved and all-around polite little people. What I'm nervous about is what I DO with them when they are here, overnight. I never slept over anyone's house growing up. Not one birthday party sleepover. Never hosted one. I was never allowed. I didn't go to my first sleepover until my senior year of high school. Graduation night. And my friend's parents had to ask my parents for me...because I was so scared.

Anyway, with that in mind, I have no idea what to expect when these girls come over and settle in for the night. So, on Monday, I pulled Riley aside and asked her what they were going to do.

She said, "We're going to make potions, play with Barbies, do the play-doh thing, make a candy store with a tip jar, and uhhhh make more potions." In my mind, I'm running through the timeline and realized that oh, well, that will kill about 25 minutes. LOL. What will they do the rest of the night before they crash? Ryan suggested a movie. Great. But who knows how long they will last and what if they get bored? Then what?

So, being that I'm a planner...I forced Ryan to accompany me to Wal-Mart for a quick shopping trip. $50 later, I have projects. 3 projects for the girls to do...in between the playing they do or in their downtime when they are bored. My sister-in-law laughed at me when I told her about my anxiety and applauded my efforts with the crafty ideas...but I felt totally justified in being slightly nervous about it! The last thing I want is for these girls to ask to leave early or to go home and say that they didn't have a good time...I'm hoping it goes well. Wish us luck!

I'll post pictures of the crafts we do after the sleepover. But, if anyone has any ideas on free stuff we can do, please please please share them...would love to have some back-up plans!

Therapy Thursday: Grieving.

I know that the majority of my posts are lighthearted and about my kids. This morning, as I sit in front of my laptop, I can't help but write this post -- because I don't think I've had a chance to properly grieve over the passing of my Grandma.



One week ago today. I can't believe it's been one week.



It didn't hit me until last night while I was on the phone with my dad...talking about what Grandma's wishes were, about the letters she wrote to my parents and about my mom being in CA without me or my brother to see my Grandma for the last time. The whole thing is just so sad and I'm having a tough time swallowing it all.



I've always had this intense fear of death (thus, my fear that Grandma isn't with us anymore) and my thoughts of caution are always morbid. Let me explain...

I can remember being quite young and fearing the loss of my parents. Not that they did anything crazy -- but I was always scared that something would happen to them and I never wanted to be in a position to see them "un-alive." Now that I have my own children, my fears have turned into protecting THEM and praying that nothing bad ever happens to them...leading in the my morbid thoughts of caution.

I'm going through those thoughts now. While planning this trip to Key West with Ryan, I continue to think about what I'm going to write in my will. What will happen to the kids if something happens to us? What do I want for my children? Who will take care of them? I am realizing that I need to spell everything out -- especially after my Grandma's death -- and hope that those left to care for my kids will honor my wishes. It's just so scary. And it makes me want to cry just thinking about it. Death is freakin' scary.

So, I'm sad. I feel sick in my stomach. I can picture my Grandma at her healthiest time in her life and I miss that. I miss seeing her. I know she knew I loved her -- so I have zero regrets. I am just sad.

Ronan-ism #0210

*Ronan sneezes 3-4 times.

Me: Bless you, Ronan.
Ronan: Fanks (thanks). *Sneezes again.*
Me: Bless you, AGAIN!
Ronan: I don't know why I keep doin' dat. I keep on ha-chooing ober and ober again. And I keep on doin' da ha-chooing!

Me: (thinking I should do a better job dusting?)

Will Miss You, Grandma...

On February 11th, my beautiful Grandma passed away. The photo above was taken when Ronan was only a few days old...she had made the trip from Orange County, CA, to San Diego -- where we were living at the time. It was the last time I saw her.

I have the most fond memories of her. She made the BEST lobster dish (which noone can replicate...) She was so independent and loved to take my brother and I (when we were little) out on a bus in Pittsburgh to hit the candy stores downtown. She was versed in life, kept up with current events and always supported the charities she would see on TV. She prayed. A lot. She loved to talk about her journey to the United States in 1975 and was the only one who would share those scary stories about how hard it was to immigrate here.

Although I am deeply saddened by the passing of my Grandma, I am so comforted knowing that she is in a better place, she's finally with my Grandpa and that my children both had the opportunity to meet her. Love you so much, Ngoai.

An Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny...

blue and white polka dot bikini. Yes, a bikini. 2 pieces of small fabric. I made the leap. For the past, oh, I don't know...7 years, I have been wearing a mom suit. No, no ruffly one piece moo-moo, but I've been quite comfortable in the tankini, covering all problem areas. My stomach...problem area numero uno.

I have never had flat abs. In fact, I'm not sure I ever will. BUT, with the Key West trip looming over me, I told Ryan that I refuse to go on this trip and wear my 'mom suit' the entire time. I want to look cute. So last night, bathing suit shopping we went and that's the suit I came home with.

Made by Vitamin A, it's reversible and the bottoms are awesome...they are cheekier than I ever worn, but they don't give my butt that awful muffin roll you see sometimes when girls wear their suits a little too tight. AND, for the first time in YEARS...I'm going with a triangle top. It was too cute to walk away from, though.

If you have ever been to a Swim & Sport store, you'll know that they give you personal attention to choose your suit. Although I was ready to walk out initially (a little bit of a wait and I am impatient...), I'm glad I didn't because the lady was so attentive and gave me more options than I even considered.

Anyway, I'm thinking about hanging the Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Blue/White Polka Dot Bikini somewhere in front of the treadmill to give me more motivation during my workouts. Only a few more months....

Explanation Necessary.

I've said this before...when you give birth, they need to give you a manual that tells you what to say when the questions you aren't ready to answer arise. We had a moment with Riley not too long ago and it went something like this...

Riley: Momma, what's 'gay' mean?

Me: (slightly shocked) Uhhh, happy?

Riley: (pondering how she was going to use this in a sentence...)

Me: (silence and what felt like hours had gone by, but was only seconds)

Riley: I'm going to tell all my friends that I'm gay!

Me: (even more shocked, but smiling) You probably aren't going to want to say that...I'll let daddy tell you why.

[Okay, so at this point, there is no beating around the bush. We have friends that are gay, so it wasn't us not wanting to explain...I guess it was the more sexual part I was hoping to not get into.]

So Ryan enters.

Me: Daddy, why don't you tell Riley what gay means! She wants to tell all of her friends at school that she is gay.

Ryan: Well, you know how you have a mommy and a daddy? Some people have two mommies and two daddies.

Riley: (look of utter confusion and steam exiting both ears)

Me: (able to see the look and realizing she might be confusing it with step-parents/divorcees)

Ryan: (silence, but pride that he could add to conversation)

Riley: Uhhh, I don't get it.

Me: You know Ellen? From the Ellen Show?

Riley: Yeah?

Me: Well, Ellen is married to a woman. She loves a woman.

Riley: Ohhhhhh, I get it. Hey, can I have an ice cream? Vanilla okay?

OMG. Really? That's all she wanted was a freakin' ice cream? Goes to show that if you can be honest with your kid...even if it's not the best explanation...they are totally satisfied by it.

"I'm Loose."

Okay, not the words you ever want to hear from your daughter. Except when it refers to a tooth.

Yes, Riley finally, after 7 years and 7 months, has ONE LOOSE TOOTH. It's one of her tiny bottom front ones and since Sunday morning, has been an obsession for her. It's not really even that wiggly yet, but there is some movement and for Riley...some movement is better than no movement. She's the last in her class to have all of her baby teeth.

So now that the prospect of a tooth fairy visit is in the near future, what's the fair market value on the first tooth? Has it lost value? Is it underwater? Or is the tooth fairy handing out credit?

Wahhhhh....wahhhhh...I wanna go. Now!

To Key West, that is! Just a few more months until my sans-kids vacation with the hubby. Hurry up and get me there.

(Picture taken from this website.)