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Wednesday, February 29, 2012

The other weekend, one of Jack's buddies turned the whopping age of 4.  (Given my chagrin at Jack's approaching 2nd birthday, it's fair to say that I can't even count that high right now.  But, anyway.)  Connor's mom deftly threw him a superhero birthday party.  What kid, or what fun-loving adult, could ask for more?

Given how *crafty* I've been lately (again, heaping the praise onto Pinterest), I offered to make capes for the kiddos.

This post is not about how awesome I am, because it was not very hard.  The post is about how awesome the capes, and the party, were.  (Here is a link to the tutorial I used for the capes.  Note that I didn't do the Velcro step.  Which makes an easy craft Even Easier.)

Exhibit A:  SuperJack


Exhibit B:  Super Connor, The Birthday Hero


Exhibit C:  Super Heroes at the Pinata


Exhibit D:  Super Jude wants to be just like Super Dylan when he grows up


Exhibit F:  Superheroes Love Quesadillas



Hope your day is all that and more,
Heather

Two

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Jack turns two in a few days.  How is that possible?

I have no idea.






I'm pretty sure he doesn't know, either.

Doing my best not to get all weepy and sentimental about it.  Because life is awesome.

You know?
Heather

Baseball

Monday, February 27, 2012

My grandfather was a huge baseball fan.  I mean, huge.  He was of the classic, gentlemanly variety.  When he went to a baseball game, which he did as often as possible, he got a bag of peanuts.  And as he watched the game, analyzing each player's statistics (which he knew by heart in that magical way real baseball fans did before smartphones), he methodically ate the bag of salty treats.  Shells on the ground, of course. 

Naturally, my grandfather raised my father to be a huge baseball fan.  And while the team of choice for this father-son duo was the Baltimore Orioles, my dad also has (still) a soft spot for the New York Yankees.  

Of my siblings, I am probably the child most interested in sports.  And that is, shall we say, generous.  But I did grow up knowing that baseball was cool.  I knew that Cal Ripken, Jr. played shortstop, was awesome, and was cooler than his brother, Billy.  (I would apologize to Billy, but that chip has been on his shoulder for so long that it doesn't even matter.)


In fact, we had a short-lived fundraiser at my high school where we were supposed to sell "Cal Bars."  I recall them being a lot like a candy bar.  They cost one dollar.  No one sold very many; we just ate them.  I have no idea what they were supposed to be "for."  But, thanks to the magic of the Interwebs, I found proof that they did, in fact, exist:


Durel, of course, is a Houston Astros fan.  


Jack knows what a ball is at this point (and throws them with impressive speed and accuracy, actually), but doesn't know one sport from another yet.  He is in the crucial formative years for his lifelong sports franchise allegiance development.

I'm dabbling in clothing that might have an effect.  I didn't realize that I was amassing a baseball wardrobe for him until the other day, when he wore his Red Sox shirt one day, and his Phillies shirt the next.  That's not to mention his Cubs shirt, which is awaiting its debut.


For my friends not on the East Coast who might be squinting at that picture, this is what you're looking at:



Though this might be even cooler:

I love me some Liberty Bell.

Anyway, candy bars and cracked bells aside, I think this is a cool thing for us to embark on with Jack as he truly becomes a Little Dude.  This probably means that I have to do something about my spaghetti throwing arm and not so awesome catching ability.

Sigh.  For now, I'll just keep buying Jack t-shirts.  And, I think, playing catch in the yard.

Batter up,
Heather

Crisps

Friday, February 24, 2012

Jack's been sick this week.  Oh, the poor dear.

We went to the doctor in the afternoon.  In the wake of cold and flu season and a holiday weekend, I blew up the pediatrician's phone line like a lovesick teenager just to get our appointment late in the day.  After the appointment and (not surprising but saddening) diagnosis of a doozy of a double ear infection, we headed to CVS to get the (much-needed and very strong) prescription.  

Given the time of day of the appointment and the traffic we encountered, this put us smack dab between late snack time and early dinner time.  I had a very real fear of sick toddler meltdown in the middle of the drugstore.

So, I provided a snack.  And, with a twinkle in my eye, what I chose was (1) delicious, and (2) totally new to Jack.

It went well.

I may feel crappy, but I lurve Munchos, Mom!
Hope your weekend is crisp and not chippy.

Heather

**PS:  Feel free to nominate me for Mother of the Year for feeding her sick child potato chips in the CVS.  A mom's gotta do what a mom's gotta do.  And that would be my acceptance speech.

Balls

Thursday, February 23, 2012

[Jeez, people.  Get your mind out of the gutter.  Not that kind of balls.]

This Presidents' Day, Jack and his buddies had a date at the local bouncy house/ball pit/run until you're tired place.

It's Extremely Difficult to take pictures of toddlers at one of these places.  First, they move way too quickly to capture any quintessential moments on your camera.

Case in point:


The other reason that it's hard to take good pictures at the bouncy house place is because I found myself on my feet, running, climbing, chasing, spotting, and otherwise ensuring the relative safety of my child the entire time I was there.  That said, I even managed to lose him a few times.  Luckily, we moms traveled in a pack, so we all had a running tab on the whereabouts of all five kiddos.  (Except that time I forgot to watch where Mac was going.  Sorry, Marci!)

I do recommend going to this place.  But, I recommend a few preliminary measure to ensure success.

1.  Caffeinate before you go.  I cutely bought myself a Starbucks to take with me and enjoy while the kids ran around.  I drank it (you know me too well to assume otherwise, I hope), but I also had to make all of my friends hold it for me at some point while I dashed off into the climby ropey thing to make sure Jack was OK.  

2.  Wear comfortable clothes, including SOCKS.  Socks are required for everyone at the bouncy house place.  I now have a new, $2 pair of crappy socks that I purchased there because I naively wore my Toms.  I wore jeans, so my unintended acrobatics were not uncomfortable, but I saw lots of moms there in yoga pants.  I was jealous of their comfort and mobility.  I really was.

3.  Don't be too ambitious.  We had so much fun that we, the mommas, decided to go to lunch after.  (Yay!  Awesome plan!  We're friends and we're hungry!)  Great idea, except for the part where it wasn't.  Jack was tired.  It was naptime.  And honey badger didn't give a shit if I wanted lunch.

So, we had some queso which we ordered for the table, and then beat a hasty retreat for naptime and eating our food (now take-out) at a later time.

Hey, Jazmin, want some of my queso?  You can totally have some.


Queso?  Check.  Mardi Gras beads?  Check.
So, you know, that was our Presidents Day.  Hot coffee, bouncing toddlers, and shared queso.  It pretty much rocked.

Hope yours did, too.
Heather

Film

Thursday, February 16, 2012

It occurred to me the other day, like, yesterday, that Jack will think I sound like an old fogey when I tell him that cameras used to have film in them.  And that meant you had to take the film to a little store and let them develop it and print your pictures for you.  And that you couldn't see every picture you took immediately after taking it.  There was guesswork involved.  And little men looking at your pictures.  And stinky chemicals.  And no delete button.

And that I know how to develop black and white film and print pictures, and that it's super fun.

If you aren't too trigger happy with the delete button, though, you can almost pretend that we got a roll of film developed yesterday while trying to catch a shot of Jack in this *super awesome* shirt given to him by his Tia Nancy.

First, a man on the go.  Not posing for a picture.


Second, a man kicking his Daddy's foot instead of saying cheese for the camera.  Kick, kick, kick.


Third, a man looking pensive, which is cute, but not properly showing off The Shirt, which was the point of this particular picture.


Fourth, a man outside who realizes that his parents are oddly serious about taking a proper picture of this shirt.  A cooperative man, the fourth time.


Hope your men are cooperative today,
Heather

Arts and Crafts

Monday, February 13, 2012

So, I inhabit the world of Pinterest where everything is DIY-able and really cute at the same time.  It's a lot of pressure.  And you know what tomorrow is?  Valentine's Day.

People go Craft Crazy for this holiday.  To wit:

[image credit]
Idea:  Buy candy bars and put custom wrappers on them.
With ribbons and handmade paper flowers.
Design*sponge suggests making 3-D Valentines.
I adore anything that involves cigar boxes.
(But the thought of this exhausts me.)
(And holy crap, what's inside?)
Ooh, I have a weakness for Oreos... [image credit]
But I'm not sure my red icing hearts would look even that good.
Do you see, though, how this gets out of control?  Very  much so, very quickly.  So, what's a mom to do?  I had already decided that I would have no guilt at all about not giving out Valentine's at Jack's school.  He is not yet two (though we're careening toward his birthday -- eek!).  He has no idea.  His buddies have no idea.  Valentine's for two year old are for the edification of the parents.  

And I say that, but guess what I've spent the weekend doing? [brace yourself for a contradiction]


Yup.  I sure did.

But, that's not actually true.  I've been working on these for a while, ever since I realized that I would love to get all Tiny Prints up in here for cute photo Valentines but am *not* willing to spend the dollars on their insanely awesome products.  So, I said to myself, self, what if you make endearingly simple ones for free?  

You see, a few years ago, I started buying scrapbooking supplies before I faced the cold, hard, indisputable personal truth that I Am Not a Scrapbooker.  That paper sure did come in handy, though.


Um, you can see that I stayed *minimal* with the design.
I was an English major, not an art major.
The clincher is on the inside.


Jack's super cool dude smiling face wished all of his teachers, buddies, and family a Super Cool Valentine's Day.

And he wishes you one, too.
Heather

Sick Days

Friday, February 10, 2012

Earlier this week, Jack and I shared a sick day.  He didn't feel good.  I didn't feel good.  We stayed home together.

For those of you without children, please HEED MY WORDS.  

Enjoy your sick days.  Enjoy them to the fullest.

I know that sounds like an oxymoron.  (Duh, if I'm sick, I'm not enjoying it.)  But you know what?  You are and you just don't know it.  Because when you are childless and home sick, you do things like sleep when you want, eat what you want, watch what you want, and lay comatose on the couch as long as you want.

You know what happens when you are home sick with a toddler?  You make breakfast, snacks, and lunches.  You get sippy cups with various beverages on demand.  You watch more Nick Junior than you would like on even a *well* day.  You get up to do things like change diapers, prepare meals (see above) and ensure that your child does not injure themselves, even a little.

Which led me to think that, in fact, it was Jack who was taking care of me the other day.  Because he drove the agenda for our day with a relentless pace.

First, we drew.

Yes, that is the blanket I was *trying* to be sick under.
It may or may not be a Wonder Woman blanket.

Then we drew some more, though we were just about to be distracted by Yo Gabba Gabba.  I was also distracted by that adorably chubby hand.

Also, please note that he's left-handed, LIKE HIS MOMMA.
Then we put all of his favorite things into the box.

Everybody, get in the box.  Dee Dah, you're in charge of what happens in the box.

Then, we took his favorite things out of the box.

That's enough of that, team.  Everybody, get out of the box.
You will note that our living room looked more and more like a toy store exploded in it as the day wore on.  This is a testament to my (futile but consistent) attempts to *relax* and not clean up in cycles, as I do on normal days, like weekends or whatever.  In truth, it probably took as much mental energy to stop myself from organizing and straightening as it did at the end of the day to clean up all the toys (with Jack's help, of course).  Whatever.  I tried.

We also counted to ten in English and Spanish.  We napped (twice).  We ate (me, a little; him, a lot).  We drank water and juice.  And as soon as Durel came home, I passed the parenting baton and promptly excused myself to go crash into the uninterrupted sleep that had eluded me all day.

And...you know you're a mom when even the day I've just described was actually fun, because you got to spend it with your Little Dude.

Here's hoping you contradict yourself (in a good way), this weekend.

Heather

My Day Job

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

So, I spend a lot of time on this blog talking about how cute Jack is, how crafty I can be, how cute Jack is...

And that's all well and good (great, in fact), but there's a lot more to the story.  I am a working mom.  And that, my friends, is a big job.  It's two big jobs.  And if your house is even close to clean and you cook things sometimes, it's three big jobs.  And if you count blogging, which I do, we're up to four.

Yesterday, this post from the hilarious and awesome Jill at Baby Rabies gave me pause.  If you're a mom, or know a mom, or love a mom, you should read it. 

Here's my favorite excerpt:

Moms, take off your armor. Smile kindly at one another. Offer grace and support. Know that every mom you meet, no matter how “perfect” she appears, is walking that same shaky tight rope right along with you. Take her hand, tell her it scares you, too. Tell her sometimes you fall. 
And so, a quick snapshot of what I do "the rest of the time," when I am not with Little Dude, my awesome husband, cleaning, cooking, blogging, or sitting on the couch watching Big Love.


#1:  Coffee.   Aka, fuel.
#2:  Work.  Aka, work.
#3:  Sparkling water.  Aka, hydration and my newest raging addiction.
#4:  A copy of the ABA journal flipped over that I've been using for a mouse pad for about six months.
#5:  Wonder Woman and the Virgin of Guadalupe.  Aka, my cheering section.

See this pic for proof that I love Scentsy, Michael Kors,
and inspirational running paraphernalia.

What am I getting at?  Nothing.  Other than that I love my life, all four jobs of it.  Thanks for sharing.

Hope you love all your jobs, too.  Because I know you have more than one.
Heather

Dizzying Speed

Monday, February 6, 2012

How did we get from this:


to this?


With dizzying speed, that's how.  I mean, wow.

Hope your day is full of flouride,
Heather

Friday

Friday, February 3, 2012

Jack and I hope you have an awesome weekend, filled with naps, good eats, and football (if you care about that, which I don't, but you already knew that).

We also hope your weekend is free from annoying traffic that makes you want to punch and kick the sky.  Like we had yesterday.


Take that!  Hee-YAH!

Over and out,
Heather

Wildlife, Part Two

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

So, the second reason that the San Antonio Zoo rocked our socks off the other weekend is this.  Wait for it.

It has a petting zoo.

Yes, I am aware that lots of zoos have petting zoos, but this one was great.  They have a variety of goats and pigs for the kids to pet.  They have a zoo employee (who is good with children, natch) there to make sure everyone shares, plays nicely, etc.  They have brushes for the kids to use as they get all lovey with the animals.  

Did Jack like it?  Pshaw.

I am touching two pigs right now!
Minds were blown.  Pretty sure it was just normal business for the pigs, but they made Jack feel special.

Hey Pig, how's it going? How's your mom?

Me:  Jack, can I have a smile?
Jack:  Nooo.  I am petting a pig.

Jack's love of goats is well documented.  And the goats were a big hit,  yet again.

When I grow up, I want to be a goat petter.

Hope your day is goat-a-riffic.  And that you wash your hands after.

Heather

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Super

The other weekend, one of Jack's buddies turned the whopping age of 4.  (Given my chagrin at Jack's approaching 2nd birthday, it's fair to say that I can't even count that high right now.  But, anyway.)  Connor's mom deftly threw him a superhero birthday party.  What kid, or what fun-loving adult, could ask for more?

Given how *crafty* I've been lately (again, heaping the praise onto Pinterest), I offered to make capes for the kiddos.

This post is not about how awesome I am, because it was not very hard.  The post is about how awesome the capes, and the party, were.  (Here is a link to the tutorial I used for the capes.  Note that I didn't do the Velcro step.  Which makes an easy craft Even Easier.)

Exhibit A:  SuperJack


Exhibit B:  Super Connor, The Birthday Hero


Exhibit C:  Super Heroes at the Pinata


Exhibit D:  Super Jude wants to be just like Super Dylan when he grows up


Exhibit F:  Superheroes Love Quesadillas



Hope your day is all that and more,
Heather

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Two

Jack turns two in a few days.  How is that possible?

I have no idea.






I'm pretty sure he doesn't know, either.

Doing my best not to get all weepy and sentimental about it.  Because life is awesome.

You know?
Heather

Monday, February 27, 2012

Baseball

My grandfather was a huge baseball fan.  I mean, huge.  He was of the classic, gentlemanly variety.  When he went to a baseball game, which he did as often as possible, he got a bag of peanuts.  And as he watched the game, analyzing each player's statistics (which he knew by heart in that magical way real baseball fans did before smartphones), he methodically ate the bag of salty treats.  Shells on the ground, of course. 

Naturally, my grandfather raised my father to be a huge baseball fan.  And while the team of choice for this father-son duo was the Baltimore Orioles, my dad also has (still) a soft spot for the New York Yankees.  

Of my siblings, I am probably the child most interested in sports.  And that is, shall we say, generous.  But I did grow up knowing that baseball was cool.  I knew that Cal Ripken, Jr. played shortstop, was awesome, and was cooler than his brother, Billy.  (I would apologize to Billy, but that chip has been on his shoulder for so long that it doesn't even matter.)


In fact, we had a short-lived fundraiser at my high school where we were supposed to sell "Cal Bars."  I recall them being a lot like a candy bar.  They cost one dollar.  No one sold very many; we just ate them.  I have no idea what they were supposed to be "for."  But, thanks to the magic of the Interwebs, I found proof that they did, in fact, exist:


Durel, of course, is a Houston Astros fan.  


Jack knows what a ball is at this point (and throws them with impressive speed and accuracy, actually), but doesn't know one sport from another yet.  He is in the crucial formative years for his lifelong sports franchise allegiance development.

I'm dabbling in clothing that might have an effect.  I didn't realize that I was amassing a baseball wardrobe for him until the other day, when he wore his Red Sox shirt one day, and his Phillies shirt the next.  That's not to mention his Cubs shirt, which is awaiting its debut.


For my friends not on the East Coast who might be squinting at that picture, this is what you're looking at:



Though this might be even cooler:

I love me some Liberty Bell.

Anyway, candy bars and cracked bells aside, I think this is a cool thing for us to embark on with Jack as he truly becomes a Little Dude.  This probably means that I have to do something about my spaghetti throwing arm and not so awesome catching ability.

Sigh.  For now, I'll just keep buying Jack t-shirts.  And, I think, playing catch in the yard.

Batter up,
Heather

Friday, February 24, 2012

Crisps

Jack's been sick this week.  Oh, the poor dear.

We went to the doctor in the afternoon.  In the wake of cold and flu season and a holiday weekend, I blew up the pediatrician's phone line like a lovesick teenager just to get our appointment late in the day.  After the appointment and (not surprising but saddening) diagnosis of a doozy of a double ear infection, we headed to CVS to get the (much-needed and very strong) prescription.  

Given the time of day of the appointment and the traffic we encountered, this put us smack dab between late snack time and early dinner time.  I had a very real fear of sick toddler meltdown in the middle of the drugstore.

So, I provided a snack.  And, with a twinkle in my eye, what I chose was (1) delicious, and (2) totally new to Jack.

It went well.

I may feel crappy, but I lurve Munchos, Mom!
Hope your weekend is crisp and not chippy.

Heather

**PS:  Feel free to nominate me for Mother of the Year for feeding her sick child potato chips in the CVS.  A mom's gotta do what a mom's gotta do.  And that would be my acceptance speech.

Thursday, February 23, 2012

Balls

[Jeez, people.  Get your mind out of the gutter.  Not that kind of balls.]

This Presidents' Day, Jack and his buddies had a date at the local bouncy house/ball pit/run until you're tired place.

It's Extremely Difficult to take pictures of toddlers at one of these places.  First, they move way too quickly to capture any quintessential moments on your camera.

Case in point:


The other reason that it's hard to take good pictures at the bouncy house place is because I found myself on my feet, running, climbing, chasing, spotting, and otherwise ensuring the relative safety of my child the entire time I was there.  That said, I even managed to lose him a few times.  Luckily, we moms traveled in a pack, so we all had a running tab on the whereabouts of all five kiddos.  (Except that time I forgot to watch where Mac was going.  Sorry, Marci!)

I do recommend going to this place.  But, I recommend a few preliminary measure to ensure success.

1.  Caffeinate before you go.  I cutely bought myself a Starbucks to take with me and enjoy while the kids ran around.  I drank it (you know me too well to assume otherwise, I hope), but I also had to make all of my friends hold it for me at some point while I dashed off into the climby ropey thing to make sure Jack was OK.  

2.  Wear comfortable clothes, including SOCKS.  Socks are required for everyone at the bouncy house place.  I now have a new, $2 pair of crappy socks that I purchased there because I naively wore my Toms.  I wore jeans, so my unintended acrobatics were not uncomfortable, but I saw lots of moms there in yoga pants.  I was jealous of their comfort and mobility.  I really was.

3.  Don't be too ambitious.  We had so much fun that we, the mommas, decided to go to lunch after.  (Yay!  Awesome plan!  We're friends and we're hungry!)  Great idea, except for the part where it wasn't.  Jack was tired.  It was naptime.  And honey badger didn't give a shit if I wanted lunch.

So, we had some queso which we ordered for the table, and then beat a hasty retreat for naptime and eating our food (now take-out) at a later time.

Hey, Jazmin, want some of my queso?  You can totally have some.


Queso?  Check.  Mardi Gras beads?  Check.
So, you know, that was our Presidents Day.  Hot coffee, bouncing toddlers, and shared queso.  It pretty much rocked.

Hope yours did, too.
Heather

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Film

It occurred to me the other day, like, yesterday, that Jack will think I sound like an old fogey when I tell him that cameras used to have film in them.  And that meant you had to take the film to a little store and let them develop it and print your pictures for you.  And that you couldn't see every picture you took immediately after taking it.  There was guesswork involved.  And little men looking at your pictures.  And stinky chemicals.  And no delete button.

And that I know how to develop black and white film and print pictures, and that it's super fun.

If you aren't too trigger happy with the delete button, though, you can almost pretend that we got a roll of film developed yesterday while trying to catch a shot of Jack in this *super awesome* shirt given to him by his Tia Nancy.

First, a man on the go.  Not posing for a picture.


Second, a man kicking his Daddy's foot instead of saying cheese for the camera.  Kick, kick, kick.


Third, a man looking pensive, which is cute, but not properly showing off The Shirt, which was the point of this particular picture.


Fourth, a man outside who realizes that his parents are oddly serious about taking a proper picture of this shirt.  A cooperative man, the fourth time.


Hope your men are cooperative today,
Heather

Monday, February 13, 2012

Arts and Crafts

So, I inhabit the world of Pinterest where everything is DIY-able and really cute at the same time.  It's a lot of pressure.  And you know what tomorrow is?  Valentine's Day.

People go Craft Crazy for this holiday.  To wit:

[image credit]
Idea:  Buy candy bars and put custom wrappers on them.
With ribbons and handmade paper flowers.
Design*sponge suggests making 3-D Valentines.
I adore anything that involves cigar boxes.
(But the thought of this exhausts me.)
(And holy crap, what's inside?)
Ooh, I have a weakness for Oreos... [image credit]
But I'm not sure my red icing hearts would look even that good.
Do you see, though, how this gets out of control?  Very  much so, very quickly.  So, what's a mom to do?  I had already decided that I would have no guilt at all about not giving out Valentine's at Jack's school.  He is not yet two (though we're careening toward his birthday -- eek!).  He has no idea.  His buddies have no idea.  Valentine's for two year old are for the edification of the parents.  

And I say that, but guess what I've spent the weekend doing? [brace yourself for a contradiction]


Yup.  I sure did.

But, that's not actually true.  I've been working on these for a while, ever since I realized that I would love to get all Tiny Prints up in here for cute photo Valentines but am *not* willing to spend the dollars on their insanely awesome products.  So, I said to myself, self, what if you make endearingly simple ones for free?  

You see, a few years ago, I started buying scrapbooking supplies before I faced the cold, hard, indisputable personal truth that I Am Not a Scrapbooker.  That paper sure did come in handy, though.


Um, you can see that I stayed *minimal* with the design.
I was an English major, not an art major.
The clincher is on the inside.


Jack's super cool dude smiling face wished all of his teachers, buddies, and family a Super Cool Valentine's Day.

And he wishes you one, too.
Heather

Friday, February 10, 2012

Sick Days

Earlier this week, Jack and I shared a sick day.  He didn't feel good.  I didn't feel good.  We stayed home together.

For those of you without children, please HEED MY WORDS.  

Enjoy your sick days.  Enjoy them to the fullest.

I know that sounds like an oxymoron.  (Duh, if I'm sick, I'm not enjoying it.)  But you know what?  You are and you just don't know it.  Because when you are childless and home sick, you do things like sleep when you want, eat what you want, watch what you want, and lay comatose on the couch as long as you want.

You know what happens when you are home sick with a toddler?  You make breakfast, snacks, and lunches.  You get sippy cups with various beverages on demand.  You watch more Nick Junior than you would like on even a *well* day.  You get up to do things like change diapers, prepare meals (see above) and ensure that your child does not injure themselves, even a little.

Which led me to think that, in fact, it was Jack who was taking care of me the other day.  Because he drove the agenda for our day with a relentless pace.

First, we drew.

Yes, that is the blanket I was *trying* to be sick under.
It may or may not be a Wonder Woman blanket.

Then we drew some more, though we were just about to be distracted by Yo Gabba Gabba.  I was also distracted by that adorably chubby hand.

Also, please note that he's left-handed, LIKE HIS MOMMA.
Then we put all of his favorite things into the box.

Everybody, get in the box.  Dee Dah, you're in charge of what happens in the box.

Then, we took his favorite things out of the box.

That's enough of that, team.  Everybody, get out of the box.
You will note that our living room looked more and more like a toy store exploded in it as the day wore on.  This is a testament to my (futile but consistent) attempts to *relax* and not clean up in cycles, as I do on normal days, like weekends or whatever.  In truth, it probably took as much mental energy to stop myself from organizing and straightening as it did at the end of the day to clean up all the toys (with Jack's help, of course).  Whatever.  I tried.

We also counted to ten in English and Spanish.  We napped (twice).  We ate (me, a little; him, a lot).  We drank water and juice.  And as soon as Durel came home, I passed the parenting baton and promptly excused myself to go crash into the uninterrupted sleep that had eluded me all day.

And...you know you're a mom when even the day I've just described was actually fun, because you got to spend it with your Little Dude.

Here's hoping you contradict yourself (in a good way), this weekend.

Heather

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

My Day Job

So, I spend a lot of time on this blog talking about how cute Jack is, how crafty I can be, how cute Jack is...

And that's all well and good (great, in fact), but there's a lot more to the story.  I am a working mom.  And that, my friends, is a big job.  It's two big jobs.  And if your house is even close to clean and you cook things sometimes, it's three big jobs.  And if you count blogging, which I do, we're up to four.

Yesterday, this post from the hilarious and awesome Jill at Baby Rabies gave me pause.  If you're a mom, or know a mom, or love a mom, you should read it. 

Here's my favorite excerpt:

Moms, take off your armor. Smile kindly at one another. Offer grace and support. Know that every mom you meet, no matter how “perfect” she appears, is walking that same shaky tight rope right along with you. Take her hand, tell her it scares you, too. Tell her sometimes you fall. 
And so, a quick snapshot of what I do "the rest of the time," when I am not with Little Dude, my awesome husband, cleaning, cooking, blogging, or sitting on the couch watching Big Love.


#1:  Coffee.   Aka, fuel.
#2:  Work.  Aka, work.
#3:  Sparkling water.  Aka, hydration and my newest raging addiction.
#4:  A copy of the ABA journal flipped over that I've been using for a mouse pad for about six months.
#5:  Wonder Woman and the Virgin of Guadalupe.  Aka, my cheering section.

See this pic for proof that I love Scentsy, Michael Kors,
and inspirational running paraphernalia.

What am I getting at?  Nothing.  Other than that I love my life, all four jobs of it.  Thanks for sharing.

Hope you love all your jobs, too.  Because I know you have more than one.
Heather

Monday, February 6, 2012

Dizzying Speed

How did we get from this:


to this?


With dizzying speed, that's how.  I mean, wow.

Hope your day is full of flouride,
Heather

Friday, February 3, 2012

Friday

Jack and I hope you have an awesome weekend, filled with naps, good eats, and football (if you care about that, which I don't, but you already knew that).

We also hope your weekend is free from annoying traffic that makes you want to punch and kick the sky.  Like we had yesterday.


Take that!  Hee-YAH!

Over and out,
Heather

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Wildlife, Part Two

So, the second reason that the San Antonio Zoo rocked our socks off the other weekend is this.  Wait for it.

It has a petting zoo.

Yes, I am aware that lots of zoos have petting zoos, but this one was great.  They have a variety of goats and pigs for the kids to pet.  They have a zoo employee (who is good with children, natch) there to make sure everyone shares, plays nicely, etc.  They have brushes for the kids to use as they get all lovey with the animals.  

Did Jack like it?  Pshaw.

I am touching two pigs right now!
Minds were blown.  Pretty sure it was just normal business for the pigs, but they made Jack feel special.

Hey Pig, how's it going? How's your mom?

Me:  Jack, can I have a smile?
Jack:  Nooo.  I am petting a pig.

Jack's love of goats is well documented.  And the goats were a big hit,  yet again.

When I grow up, I want to be a goat petter.

Hope your day is goat-a-riffic.  And that you wash your hands after.

Heather
 
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