4th of july cards

When I was little, my aunt would send cards for big holidays and all the little holidays in between. Christmas..... check
Easter.....check
4th of July.....check
National Ice Cream Day....check check...ok uncheck, but she probably would have. I remember thinking how special it was that she took the time to think of our family, on other days other than obligatory christmas. I swore when I grew up, I would do the same.

Now that I'm on my way to being a grown up, or pretending to be one, ok so I'm really just the big kids responsible for the gaggle of kids in this house, I try to do the same. We have always lived far from some part of family. If we lived near his, mine were far, or if we lived near mine, his were far, and my grandparents in between.

I started with Oldielocks, sending a handprint creation card, like angel handprints for christmas, or ghost footprints for halloween. The more kids, the more I used a picture. It's an easy way to giving everyone the opportunity to watch them "grow", and sends our love as well. And it's really all part of the bigger picture that I want to teach my kids in this entitled world, to GIVE. I don't care whatcha give, just give. Your time without expectations, your talent without acknowledgement, your things without new ones, your love because it's needed. We don't always have to join campaigns, nor is it always possible- to give water to thirsty villages, books to underprivileged schools, houses to devastated countries. (and those are all amazing things, btw ) Sometimes we lose sight of the fact that we can give of ourselves here at home, and to the people we love. I think it sets a firm foundation to give to others on a higher level when they can. People, family, friends can always always always use a little love sent their way.

I chose simple this year. Not always do I have lots of money, or tons of time. But I take what I have and use it. Simple colors, a sweet moment in a hotel room, a few stamps and a few minutes of crafting.

For the love of Grandmas

Baloney is obsessed with the word "grandma". Not surprising since I use it a lot... as in "Oh.my.great.grandmas!" or to describe something. I say things in my Ol' Granny Hag voice, mostly to make the husband laugh, but my kids know that voice as well. Any ol grandmas, I have a story here.

Baloney loves the term "Sporty Grandma". I have no clue why she says it, but....... she does. Many times I have caught her in the front yard, using a wiffle bat as a cane, and yelling, (in a spectacular granny voice I might add) "Look out, it's Sporrrrrrrty Grandma!" Of course her sisters fall into a fit of giggles and that in turn, causes more Sporty Grandma antics.

We were at the store the other day, and I had a few things to try on. Of course I had my little ducklings all in a row behind me, so I had the three sit on the floor outside my dressing room and the stroller in with me. This dressing room area had one of those annoying noises..."mmmeeeet-mooooo" when one entered the area. I told them an alarm would sound if they tried to leave, so they were pretty good about just sitting there, and also I had to promise to show them every.single.outfit that I tried on. A few times I heard the sound immediately followed by an annoyed chorus of "BALONEEYYY!" followed by a "what...<insert whatever little 4 year old excuse of getting to close to the sensor is right here>".

I was almost done and I heard the dang thing go MEEEET-MOOOO and in my huffy puffy state of removing too small clothing I said "Baloney- knock it off!" and then Thing one and Thing 2 chimed in and said "it wasn't her". And then as loud as one could yell across the swiss alps and to my mothering horror, I hear....

"IT WASN'T ME. IT WAS JUST AN OLD GRANDMA!"

Great. Just absolutely mother flubbin fabulous. Some poor older lady who may only be 40 or 78 for all I know, as just been announced as an OLD GRANDMA.

oh the observation of children.

Oh the tears

I grew up in a military town and have seen the deployments. Our military sacrifices so much more than most of us know. The little moments and the big moments. Lifetime has this show called "Coming Home" and it makes me bawl. Like a sad sad baby. I watch these and know that no "thank you" will ever be enough. I am so thankful for these men and women and beyond grateful for their service but humbled by their everyday sacrifice that they and their family give me and my family. Try watching this and not bawling.

Happy 4th piggies

As my kids get older, we get out of the realm of cutesy crafts.... like handprints and feetprint art. If Oldielocks made a pirate out of her footprint, people would wonder why I had a giant adult sized foot decorated in my scrapbook. Oldielocks and her size 9 in women's feet. Its okay, I think she would be a lil embarrassed and much relieved, so we will stick to nail painting.

The one thing about having girls, is getting all dolled up. For any event. We busted out the red, white and blue nail polish and painted away. I get that girly time with my girlies and they get to sport patriotism on their feet. Growing up in a miliatry town, being a daughter and granddaughter of veterans, and simply being an American, I try to find new ways to make sure we celebrate and honor the holiday. They know the importance of our freedom, and even getting to have our piggies painted whatever we want.

God Bless America.... and all her toes.

Make up and life

I am all about natural consequences. Life lessons.
If you put your hand in fire, you get burned.
If you leave meat in the car, it's going to stink.
If you piss in the wind....well you will get wet.
That kind of thing. So naturally, I let my children learn about life in the same manner.
Baloney just got the ol' "don't trust your sibling....ever" lesson.

They were playing make over, which is just a pretty pink train case filled with old make up of mine. The drugstore kind. Not my expensive stuff, cuz I don't care if I ever use it, that pile of colorfullness cost this momma money. Baloney's turn to get made over. She did get to choose the colors and products, but the rest was left in the hands of the make up artist, in this case, was of course, Oldielocks.

She was real convincing, that big sister of hers.
"Ooooh, these colors make your eyes look amazing"
"I would love for this look to be done on me"
"Blue, like a pretty peacock."

All while Middle, who should never play poker since she would lose piles of money, is giggling her little face off. I hear them tell her to get down and go look in the mirror. Bare feet race across the floor, light switch turns on, and

"oh. my. goodness.......WHAT IS THAT!?!?!?!"

and then I hear explosive laughter and falling to the ground from the other room.
Ten seconds later, I hear those same little barefeet banging up the stairs and slamming into my room.

"LOOK AT ME! I've been turned into a hideous monster!" said a serious Baloney in a serious voice.






And then I exploded in laughter. Much to her dismay of course. I think she was most offended when I asked her to grab my camera. I told her I wanted to capture this moment. I told her it was important to remember this moment when Oldielocks wants to help her with prom make up. She stormed away with a "thanks a lot."

awww, life lessons. I still hear sisters giggling.

Ripped in 30

I have not been shy about being a Jillian Michaels fan. She has whooped my butt into shape many times, and I'm back to asking her to do it again. This time it's the "I-just-gave-birth-to-a-oblong-bowling-ball-that-turned-my-belly-into-a-deflated-balloon" look that I am trying to get rid of. And let's be real, it looks like a cheap 10 cents balloon. The kind that turns white when you blow it up so when it deflates it is wrinkly, saggy, striped and looks like a dog chewed it and spit it out. That's the state of my ab region at the moment.

I went and saw my ol' pal Jill sittin on the shelf in Target and looky there, she is sportin a new video. Don't mind if I try it out, I tell her. I trust you... I said and brought her home.

Where she turned on me. Perhaps there is not a funnier sight than a 2 month postpartum mom, attempting to do butt kicks in her living room. With huge milk laden jugs that every sports bra within a 50 mile radius ran from. I swear I did just one butt kick and my left one bounced up to the sky and back low to the ground like a 400lb gorilla on a trampoline. Not pretty. My son had a milk shake for his next feeding, that I know.

Jillian asked me to get on the ground and do one minute of abs. Seriously, it's one minute. I can soo do one minute of abs.

I didn't even last ten seconds.

That's what I'm working with. 8 second rebound rate in the abdominal department. Riding bulls I'd be a hero...but instead that chick told me to push it through. Lady- I got a deflated balloon and two huge 845 lbs knockers. Don't worry about me pushing things through. I'm about to steam roll stuff if I don't get some strength back and soon. I spent the rest of that minute on the floor, watching her and her perfect abs get it done. Show 0ff.

I'll admit, day one was a failure. big fat F in the work out department. I don't do failure well.... so I did what any spiteful gym rat would do....

I made a lemon mernigue pie. And named it Jillian.

(and then the joke was on me, because I messed it up. And it turned out weird. Tasted well..but shrunk. I guess I'm back to meeting with Jillian in the morning.)

In the end I still swear by Jillian...swear by and swear at. It works for me.

Reflection of the way I see things

Not much has been posted on this blog... and I miss it. I tried doing a different blog, but it wasn't me. This is MY blog, for years it was where I spoke and laughed and cried. It captured my thoughts, feeling and bad grammar. And laughs. I cracked myself up on this blog. Then I let someone dictate the direction in which I took my blog and that was a bad choice.

So it's back. It's here to stay. I'm always going to have people who don't agree. I'm always going to have stalkers that have no business knowing about the going ons in my life, but they will look anyways. My goal is to make them come back for more. Seriously, stalk away. I have a tracker on this thing. Make me the topic of your discussions. I need the laughs too.

Happy to be home. Let's get this party re-started.