GMA Is In the House

Thing 1 and Abbie chatting about fashion

Thing 1 and Abbie chatting about fashion

Aggh!!! TV camera on me right now! I’m totally going to have to blog about this. Hmmm … maybe I’ll turn this into a blog post. Yes, That’s what I’ll do.

Remember when I told you Good Morning America was coming over? You know, just a typical Monday for this girl. You see … I wrote this thing about Victoria’s Secret on The Stir … and people liked it. Of course I’m sure some people didn’t, but you can’t please everyone.

So the film crew is here, and I’m supposed to be looking like I’m actually, you know, writing something, so I thought, why not write a blog post about them being here?

Jeff and Becky are the camera peeps, and they are super duper nice. Plus they like my kids — and anyone that likes my kids can stay. The reporter and producer are on the way, but they had to stop at the mall first, because they wanted an Orange Julius.

Haha! Just kidding. They went for shots of VS. I’m guessing. You know, because this story is on VS. I’m bright like that.

Leif got called away for some urgent something rather-or-other, so my saintly mama dropped everything and came over to help. She. Is. Awesome. Seriously, thank you Mom!

 

~~~ Approximately five hours later ~~~

Wowza that was a lot of filming! Had so much fun though. The girls were awesome. I think my favorite line was when ABC correspondent Abbie Boudreau asked Thing 1 whom she looked to for fashion advice … like what movie star?

My sweet girl said that she looked to her mom and gramma for fashion advice. Abbie asked her what kind of advice she got from Gramma, and she replied, “Not to wear socks with sandals.”

Amen, Sistah.

Abbie and her producer Derrick were so fun to work with, and I hope I get to do so again some time. Plus — like Jeff and Becky, they seemed to adore my kids. Seriously people, if you want to get on my good side, tell me how awesome my kids are. I greatly enjoy people that can recognize the truth right in front of them. *wink*

 

~~~ Approximately one day later ~~~

Soooooo … I totally didn’t post this last night. I know there was more I wanted to add, but at this point, I think I’ll post as-is and save more tell-all until after the segment airs.

Tune into Good Morning America on Thursday, y’all! The segment is scheduled to air in the 8-9 o’clock hour.

New Chapter

It’s 8:22 a.m., and I have the next six and a halfish hours to myself. No one asking for a third cup of chocolate milk, no one throwing a tantrum because it’s nap time, no one asking me where something is, only to have me get up and find it exactly where I said it would be.

I’ve been home from Boston for almost two weeks, but this is the first day of the New Normal. The girls were out of school for the entire week of Thanksgiving, and even though they went back yesterday, we had a parent-teacher conference at 11:30, then Leif was home the rest of the day.

Side note: Thing 2 is doing extremely well in K-prep. Her cognitive skills rock. Also, her teacher says she shares well and doesn’t get her feelings hurt easily, to which Leif and I asked, “Who??” 

Anyway. This is my first day where I can just get crap done. And oh boy, do I have a laundry list. And laundry. That needs to get done too. And I need to finish Christmas decorating. Write some things. Call some people about a job. Maybe I’ll even have it together to have snacks ready for when we get home from school.

I’ve always heard that it’s life changing when your littlest starts fulltime school — and even though I’m only 20 minutes into it, it’s kinda awesome.

This morning when I went to buckle Thing 2 into her carseat (because they have to stay in them until they’re old enough to drive the car themselves in California — it least it seems like that), she told me that she could do it herself. I rolled my eyes and then watched in disbelief as she did it herself. For nine years, I’ve watched with naked envy those moms that could just tell their kids to get into the car without having to buckle them all up.

I’m officially in the Mom of School-Aged Children Who Can Buckle Themselves Into the Car Club.

Don’t even think about asking me when I’m going to have another baby.

Princess Ponderings — What’s Up with Sleeping Beauty?

The Ladies

There are all sorts of super heavy things to think about right now, what with Sandy wiping out the eastern seaboard, and oh yeah, that presidential election happening next week. Rather than tear my hair out or eat my feelings, I’ve been occupying my mind with other things, like which Disney Princess is the best?

As I was mentally taking stock of their various attributes and accomplishments, it occurred to me that I have no use for Sleeping Beauty, even though I thought I loved her because she wears pink and I like her fairy godmother code name — Briar Rose.

But really, what did she actually accomplish?

Ok, so my really real favorite is Ariel, because hi, she lives in the OCEAN and I love the BEACH. And the red hair connection. Also, chick was brave to sell her voice for some gams to chase her dreams of living in the human world. Don’t let anyone tell you no when you know you can do something.

There’s Snow White, who had to deal with a pyscho stepmom that hired a hit man to carve her heart out of her chest. Then she had to clean up after seven coal miners. Ok, diamond miners, but it’s all carbon anyway. Despite that, she never lost her kind and gentle spirit. I would’ve raised my eyebrow at that bitch with the apple and said, “You first.”

Cinderella is classic rags to riches story — the gentile lady forced to act as a scullery maid after her father dies and leaves her with the evil steps. Girl worked her hiney off. I would’ve let Prince Philip take me away too.

Tiana is the one princess I’m unfamiliar with, but I hear she has something to do with frogs and learning to accept the quirks of life — like being turned into a frog.

Belle showed tremendous sacrifice when she promised to stay with the beast to save her father. That’s character.

Pocahontas showed the white man how to paint with all the colors of the wind. And you know, like respect nature and stuff.

Jasmine wasn’t too snooty to fall in love with a street rat. She knew that looks can be deceiving, and she was more concerned with what was in someone’s heart rather than the crown on their head.

Rapunzel is the latest and the favorite of my girls. Girl was kept prisoner for eighteen years after being kidnapped as a baby. She finally escaped and found happiness.

Mulan? Saved China.

But what did Sleeping Beauty do? She lived with her three awesome fairy godmothers in a cute little cottage in the woods before pricking her finger and taking a nap.

What’s that about?

A Laundry List of First World Grievances. Also Laundry.

Sometimes things don’t go your way. This is one of those times. Also no one who ever said money can’t buy happiness ever had to pay six quarters into a washing machine to make it work.

Broke as a Joke

No really. And it’s not funny. On my way home from work on Friday, I stopped at the corner store to pick up a Lean Cuisine (because glamlife to the max), and my blue card wasn’t working. Ok, how about the temporary red one? No? Yellow? Expired in September? Suuuuuck.

Meanwhile, I got a note in my mailbox that I had undeliverable mail from the bank at the post office because my name wasn’t on my mailbox. When I moved to Boston, I had to open a new account because my bank in California doesn’t exist in this state. Ok, I’d have to go get that on Saturday morning.

Friday night was spent tracking down a store that both sold wine and took checks, because I had no cards and no cash. Yes, I bought wine from a trendy boutique with a Phineas and Ferb check. What? You’ve never seen a desperate mom before?

No money — no way to get quarters for the laundry. Must waits for Saturday.

Saturday

Finally found the post office. Waited in line. Was lectured by guy at the counter to put my name on my mailbox. Was handed a thick package. Um, this doesn’t look like it contains my new bank card … more checks! Gah.

It was 12:30. The only banks open on the weekends around here close at noon on Saturdays. Until Monday morning.

And my T-pass expired.

Then I got slammed with some work stuff, which was fine because I was stuck at home with my dirty laundry anyway.

Also it was hot.

And my landlord took away my AC last week.

And I live on the 4th floor and it’s hot.

And I have no clean clothes because the laundry situation is ridiculous.

And my leg still smarts from when I freaking fell on the T a few days ago because I have the grace and poise of a baby water buffalo.

And my jeans are tight and I have zero motivation to exercise.

And carbs are so yummy.

Whine.

Groan.

Boo.

Hiss.

Pffffftttttt.

You know you’re feeling gross when you look forward to Monday. Even if just for the bank being open.

Cruel Summer

I love these little handfuls

I know I’ve been sporadic at best in updating my blog this summer. Honestly, it’s been challenging enough just keeping up with my regular writing duties over at The Stir. Just talk to my editors … I feel like I’m always just a little behind schedule.

Sorry, ladies!

It’s fair to say that this summer has been a bit rough. Being home with the kids most of the time has taken its toll on my sanity. I told you I couldn’t hack it as a stay-at-home-mom. It’s nothing really in particular; just the day-to-day inconsistencies wrought from the lack of any real schedule. There were a few day camps, a couple work trips for me, and days here and there with the sitter, but for the most part, the kids and I were forced to cope with each other for the majority of the time.

I really hope it made all of us stronger, because it sure as heck almost killed us.

Let me remind you all that I friggin love my kids, and I’d walk across fire for them, or worse, stay home all summer with them. I kiss their booboos, love on them, comfort them, feed them, take them fun places and give them treats, and I discipline them when necessary. It is hard, and it is not my forte.

Everyone always says every kid is different, and before you have more than one, you kinda sorta know that’s true in the back of your mind, but there’s no way you can really fathom how incredibly different two people from the exact same gene pool can be.

The only thing my girls have in common is their blond hair, their daddy’s eyes, and their stubbornness. Which I’m pretty sure they also get from their father. Just saying.

When I was about eight months pregnant with Thing 1, I reached that weird state of pregnancy where my belly started to have angles, as baby’s rapidly growing knees and elbows practiced flexing. There was this one area under my ribs that she would stick her foot out, and you could see the bump on my belly. Since it was our first baby and we had invented pregnancy (because all first-time parents think this, of course), we’d watch the bump on my tummy as I pushed it in, then slowly it would go right back in the exact same spot.  Nothing would deter that girl from her way. “My foot goes here, thank you very much,” she told us in vitro.

Fast-forward a few years to about the same stage of my pregnancy with Thing 2. Oh hey! I remember that little foot! Let’s push it in and see what happens … oh that was interesting … there was no slow creep back out this time. Instead, it was a very sudden kick back out to a place near the original spot, but not quite. Thing 2 was saying, “My foot goes out, end of discussion, fine I will play by your rules, but you never said my foot couldn’t go there.”

My now fourth grader and pre-kindergartener have retained those same personalities to this day. Thing 1 is quietly stubborn – patient and relentless in pursuit of something she wants. Thing 2 has been nicknamed The Destroyer. Just because I never said you couldn’t jump off the barstools doesn’t mean that you should try it, sweetheart.

Between these two, the keeping up with my regular job, and other various matters I won’t bother to get into in order to protect the innocent, I’ve been spread a little thin.

But I’m pretty sure I’ve kept BevMo in business.

Cheers to the end of summer, and Happy School Year to moms everywhere.

Eavesdropping on Jenny & Ashley August 21, 2012

Ash and I chat about naps, blood, end-of-summer-mommy-syndrome, and parenting advice.

Listen to internet radio with Top 7 on Blog Talk Radio

Eavesdropping on Jenny & Ashley August 16, 2012

Sorry in advance for the bad audio … like Ashley said, “You know you’re best friends when you can have a conversation with really crappy audio and still understand each other.”

Also, my children almost starve to death from lack of apples.

Listen to internet radio with Top 7 on Blog Talk Radio

Eavesdropping on Jenny & Ashley August 15, 2012

Highlights:

“Any time my mom held up a wooden spoon, it meant we were making cookies.” -Ashley

“Doves are tastier.” -Ashley

“I feel so stupid…this must be what Joe Biden feels like all the time!” -Me

Plus Ashley applies for Chopped, my kids are hungry (again), and why Steel Magnolias isn’t about the plot at all.

 

Happy listening!

Listen to internet radio with Top 7 on Blog Talk Radio

Motherhood and Finding Your Calling

The following is a very Christiany post. I won’t apologize for it.

 

We had a really great adult Sunday School last weekend on work and finding your calling. It reminded me of how much I love my job, how difficult yet how rewarding motherhood is, and that all work can glorify God just by doing it well.

Martin Luther (of 95 Thesis fame) was once approached by a Christian who asked how he could glorify God. Luther asked the man’s profession, and when he replied that he was a cobbler, Luther told him to make a good pair of shoes and sell it at a fair price.

Our pastor told that story, and reminded us that God is providentially answering prayers through our work. God uses means. He gave humans intelligence and wisdom to figure out chemotherapy, and He uses that to eradicate cancer every day. When we pray, “Give us this day, our daily bread,” it doesn’t show up like manna like it did for the Israelites, it comes from the baker.

That doesn’t mean that God’s not a part of it.

As humans, we’re meant to work. God created the Heavens and the Earth, and then he created Man to work it. We’re meant to take satisfaction in work well done. Personally, I’ve always related to the connection as an image-bearer and the oft-repeated phrase in the beginning of Genesis, “And God saw that it was good.”

Creating the Heavens and Earth is hard work, man! Our Father took satisfaction in a job well done, and dang it, I do too, while simultaneously remembering that it is only through Him that I accomplish anything at all.

After establishing that work is good and glorifying to God, our pastor went into the whole ‘how do you know?’ aspect of things. First things first – pray for wisdom. James 1:5 says, “If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him.”

Then we have to use those brains that God gave us and answer some questions:

  1. What interests you, and what are you willing to invest to obtain the skills needed for that particular vocation?
  2. What are you good it? Is this a realistic choice?
  3. How will this benefit your neighbor/fellow man?

As the pastor was going over these questions, I couldn’t help but think about the post about motherhood and Ann Romney I recently wrote. None of those questions had anything to do with money. Just because full time at-home moms don’t earn a paycheck doesn’t mean they don’t work. They work their hineys off.

I will address the money issue enough to say that earning a paycheck does benefit your neighbor. Earning a paycheck means that you are not relying on the charity of others. A couple that decides together for one parent to stay home and manage things that they would otherwise pay someone else to do (housework, childcare, etc.) is still glorifying God with their work even though only one of them officially earns a paycheck.

Every single person that does their job well and doesn’t try to cheat people is glorifying God. Moms, dads, surgeons, baristas, accountants, actors, plumbers, and any profession in between … Do your job well to serve your neighbor. It’s hard to come by that daily bread without the farmer to grow the wheat, the miller to grind it, the baker to bake it, the electrician to fix the baker’s ovens, the truck drivers to ship the loaves to the stores, the grocers to sell it …

Work matters. There is no such thing as a demeaning job, because any job that serves our neighbor is useful and should be done well and treated with respect. God says so, and it’s kinda hard to argue with that guy.

The Grocery Store and Rock Star School

I went to the grocery store the other day with the kids, and because I’m me, I added a couple of bottles of wine to the cart. When we got to the checkout, Thing 1 asked if she could swipe my credit card for me.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s illegal.”

“Why?”

“Because California is crazy, and the store could get into trouble by selling wine to minors if you use my credit card, with me present, and my signature is on the receipt.”

The checker stared at me like I had three heads.

Then Thing 1 piped up, “I don’t care if California is crazy, I never ever want to leave. If you and Daddy want to move to Texas, then wait until I’m in college.”

“And just where do you want to go to college, Little Miss?” I asked her with a raised eyebrow at her teetering-on-insolent attitude.

She pondered it for a few seconds, and then thoughtfully replied, “I’m not sure … so long as I can learn to be a rock star.”

“You can start studying to be a rock star right now,” I replied, the mommy-wheels turning in my brain.

“Whaaat…?”

“Yup, as soon as we get home, you need to do your piano practice right away. All the best rock stars know how to play piano.”

“They do?”

“Yup.”

“I can’t wait to get home and practice my piano!”

The clerk burst out laughing, winked at me, and said, “Kudos!”

Then we went home, I poured a glass of wine, and Thing 1 practiced her piano for the first time without complaining in months.

God bless Rock Star School.