What This Day Holds

I've never been one to appreciate the morning. I've always been a night owl.

This week meant the start of week three of law school for Alex. Week three of our family's new schedule. Week three of waking up at the butt crack of dawn.

As much as I can't believe I'm saying this, I'm starting to like it. I love the smell of the early morning dew fresh on the grass. I love the beautiful sunrise. I love the quiet of the house, with not a sound but the songs of the birds waking.

I'm productive in the early morning. Laundry gets done (and not just washed and then left in the washer, but washed, dried, folded and put away!), crumbs and errant cheerios get swept up and my bed gets made. It is funny to me how these small gestures do so much to make my day run smoothly.

The kids get a hot breakfast and not just cold cereal and fruit. They seem happier in this new schedule. I'm happy for them.

I had a hard time adjusting to Alex being gone all day, but now, instead of being upset about him being gone and dwelling on just how hard raising two kids basically by myself is, I fully appreciate the sacrifices he is making for our family's future. I love him more for it.

It is official. We will survive this. We are Stanfords. We are strong.

This about sums it up.

Pretty sure I'm going to get this printed on a t-shirt. At least then, I wouldn't have to tell people all the time.

It has been one of those weeks...

Where nothing interesting happens. I've really relished in it, actually. Nothing exciting happened, but nothing absolutely mind blowingly disappointing happened either!

I did meet a new friend who has a beautiful daughter. Calvin is pretty smit with her already. I think it was her take charge attitude....He really is like his Dad.

I've been cooking and baking for my other blog and have been ending up with dud after dud. It has been rather discouraging.

I figured out the secret to make the weeks go faster - plan the hell out of every day. That and Twitter. Anybody else as thoroughly addicted to TweetDeck as I am? It is like crack.

I have some pictures to process for a new post....the pictures almost got me beat up when I took them...Hope everyone had a great weekend! It went too fast.

Sparing You The Pain

Things I could blog about today, but won't. This blog is my therapy, but I don't want to put you in therapy just for reading it.

1. The ways the Laotian women at my nail salon ask me every. single. time if it has been a long time since I've had a pedicure...even though they know it hasn't. Then they proceed to laugh at me in a language that I can't find the Rosetta Stone application for. But when I do...boy, they better watch out. If you're going to make fun of my calloused toes and dirty nail beds, at least do it in a language I can understand so I can laugh along with you. I'm not too uptight that I can't have a laugh at myself.

2. My new yoga pants -- they aren't sweats!

3. My stupid widows peak making it impossible to have any of the newest hair styles. I think I was right when in the 6th grade, I shaved it off.

4. All the asshole moms at Chic-Fil-A who let their kids run around like mad men and shove kids down slides. I am glad that they are too wrapped up in their conversation about the latest Hollywood gossip (did you see Brit's vag? OMG!) to actually parent their kids, but not so much so that they can't try and rip me a new one after I've had to do their job for them. Talk to the hand, lady.

5. The fact that I feel like a freakin' dinosaur whenever I go to the mall. No longer is the mall a place for kids and geriatric mall walkers.

6. People that actually use text speak in their day to day speak. If I hear one more woman say O-M-G!, I think I'm going to puke. And while we are on that subject, 40 is not the new 17. Put some clothes on.

7. Heelys. Does anybody else dream of tripping the little creep that keeps trying to run you over?

8. Candy Land. I was on the red square RIGHT before the rainbow winner square and I got the gingerbread. The game is rigged.



And finally, 9. Farting in elevators. Thanks, Alex.

Happy Wednesday. I feel like I'm having breakthroughs in the scheduling. I don't feel like things are quite as crazy. I understand now why moms schedule loads of things for their kids to do - it is to take up the time during the day so they don't have time to sit and think about how damn lonely they get sometimes. Having things to do breaks up the monotony of the day - a break from laundry, dishes and baby poo. A break from having to trick my kid into eating by calling it a snack instead of breakfast.

We just might survive this...

I'm not a crackhead, I swear

When it is just me and the boys at home, I don't give much thought to what I wear. If it is comfortable, I'll wear it. I applaud those moms that can look put together all of the time, with their matching accessories and full make-up. I'm not one of those moms. I've been wearing the same pair of sweatpants for the past three days. I feel guilty sometimes that I don't try to look better when Alex gets home...but then I think back on the day I had and all that guilt goes out the window. Like it or not, he gets the sweatpants. Plus, sweatpants usually equal a happy wife. Spanx, special underwear and fussy hair tend to make me crabby. Like Fussypants likes to say, "We can't both look good, it's either me or the house"....although lately, we're going 0 for 2 on that statement.

Anyway, back from my sweatpant tangent. This morning, the doorbell rang (of course it was right after I put Connor to sleep) and the Schwann's man was at the door. I stared at him blankly until it dawned on me that I had placed an order through a free food item promotion. He stammered as he took in the sight that was me - bright red sweatpants rolled up at the bottom just to expose my severely neglected leg hair, nursing tank - that I accidentally forgot to re-clip on one side and hair that was something out of the "Where the Wild Things Are" book. Calvin came running up to the door in his underwear screaming at him to "LOOK AT MY CHEESE AND MEAT!" uber-quadruple stack sandwich that he had spent the last 20 minutes assembling and disassembling. Calvin then demanded that the boy (poor kid) take him to see his Daddy at school - because he drove a yellow truck and Calvin associates any yellow truck as a school bus.

I knew that I owed him three cents. Three whole cents. I went inside to get it and when I got back, he was on his way out of the driveway. I guess we scared him off. Me thinks we're not going to be top priority on Mr. Schwann's man's list of customers.

I made Calvin put on shorts after that, but I am still wearing my sweatpants.

Target Coupons

So, you know those uber valuable coupons from Target that come once in awhile and then just stop and you can never seem to figure out how to get them coming again? (holy run on sentence, batman!) I figured out how to get them again. Print them out!


You're very welcome.

Just Call Me Doc

In the wee morning hours before the kids wake and after Alex leaves - I scour the internet for interesting things. This morning, I came upon a website that listed all of the named phobias. I'm pretty sure I have agoraphobia...although that could just as easily be renamed takingtoddlerandbabyinpublicalone-phobia. Here are some of the other rather notable phobias I came across:

Arachibutyrophobia...which is, of course, the fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of your mouth. Since when can dogs be diagnosed with phobias?

Anuptaphobia, which is the fear of staying single. Pretty sure every woman over the age of 30 has that one.

Bogyphobia: you guessed it, the fear of the bogeyman....I thought that was just called being 3.

Catagelophobia is the fear of being ridiculed. Is there a person on the planet that doesn't have this? Who likes being ridiculed?

Dikephobia - interestingly enough, this is fear of justice...

Hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia is the fear of the number 666. Who decided to spell it with 666 letters? Try saying that bad boy 3 times fast.

Ironically enough, the longest name for a phobia is Hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia which is the fear of long words. "Ma'am, I am diagnosing you with Hippopotomonstrosesquip.." "AAAAAAAAHHHH!!"...I'm sure therapy works wonders.

Pentheraphobia: the fear of the mother-in-law. I also have this one. Wee, look at me! I'm self diagnosing all over the place!

Rhytiphobia is the reason why Botox is so popular: the fear of wrinkles. Me thinks there is a conspiracy with the plastic surgeons on this one.

Urophobia is the fear of urination. I'll bet they have to face their fear 6-7 times a day.

Zemmiphobia: The fear of the great mole rat. Who isn't scared of those things? They look so phallic and wrinkly.

Anyway, I've decided that I'm going to claim agoraphobia when it comes to bringing my kids to the supermarket or any restaurant that requires one to get their own beverage, without my husband. Just this past week, I thought I would do something nice for Calvin because he had been cooped up in the house for 6 days straight due to rain. I brought him to his favorite restaurant, Jason's Deli (ok, ok, it is my favorite restaurant but he likes the ice cream). Without thinking, I ordered a salad. I get the empty plate and cups and then it dawns on me that I'm going to have to schlep Calvin and Connor across the restaurant numerous times to fill these up. Frick. Off we go in the wheeled high chair, bumping into chairs all the way up. Fill up cup #1, check. Back to the table and then back to the front. Rinse and repeat 30-million times and we finally sit down. *cue large sigh of relief* "mama, I have to poo"...seriously? Obviously asking him to hold it was out of the question so off we go to the bathroom where he pitches a fit about having to use the girls bathroom because, well, he isn't a girl (eeeew). Finally, I convince him that it is perfectly acceptable for a boy to use the girls bathroom (I'll have to rethink that argument in a few years) and we get back to the table. We managed to go at least a minute without any incident and then I put my drink within reach of Connor, who promptly pulled it over in his lap. I'll be honest, I cried a little. I got it all cleaned up and then got the kids ready for another trip to the front to refill. On our way back to the table, we ended up having to abandon the high-chair because every route to our table was blocked by people of the extra-large variety. I waited for to Calvin to finish his food and left. There is not a chance in hell this is happening again.

Today marks the first day of week 2 of law school...how are we going to survive?