tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-48338532763589845892024-03-13T14:28:27.636-07:00Occupation:Momnicolepiperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678078094646369361noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4833853276358984589.post-63453328769857288612013-03-04T13:59:00.000-08:002013-03-04T13:59:39.811-08:00My Neighbors Hate Me -or- Scream 35 "I Know Why You're Screaming".......I'm pretty sure that my neighbors hate me. When I see some of them outside or at the store and I politely wave "Hello" to them they give me really weird looks and avoid having to speak to me. I know why.... of course I know why. I scream like a lunatic at my children. People meet my sweet, beautiful children and think, "How on Earth could she ever yell like that at these innocent little cupcakes?" But they don't see or hear what these boys do.... they only hear my reaction to it. Some of you might say, "Screaming at your children is never acceptable, you'll psychologically damage them!" What about ME? If I DON'T scream, these boys will psychologically damage ME!! Here's an example of a situation, that happened today actually, that I felt warranted screaming like a God damned Banshee......<br />
<br />
I have recently fallen hardcore into a "Wellness Overhaul" as I like to call it. We are eating mostly organic foods, using natural products, soaps, lotions, etc. in an attempt to feel better, get sick less often, and just generally be well and Earth friendly. It's a fun but expensive process, worth it - completely worth it, but again, emphasis on "Expensive." Some Organics cost twice as much (or more) than their chemical-ridden zombie-modified ticket-to-cancer-town counterparts. For example..... Bananas. "Normal" bananas cost around .59 per pound. Organics cost about 1.00 per pound. I used to think, "It's not important to buy organic bananas, they have a peel so the pesticides probably don't get into the actual food...." But as I recently discovered, it's not only about the pesticides, it's the TASTE! My God, the taste... Organic fruits and vegetables taste SO good. Noticeably better. The way nature intended them to taste. And in a way, I have become a produce snob. I bought some non-Organic apples recently and could barely stand to eat them, they were flavorless, like eating stale air. Which I never would have noticed, had I not had an orgasmic experience with a 3.00 Organic Honeycrisp..... But I digress....<br />
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So last week at the Grocery store, I happened upon a beautiful display of splendidly perfect Organic bananas at .99 per pound. I grabbed the biggest bunch they had, and it rang up at close to 4.00. (Don't judge me!) I brought them home and put them in my wrought iron fruit basket, and placed it upon a beautiful round green woven place mat in the center of my dining room table. A work of art, I tell you - majestic. And there on a perfect status-symbol green label all around the bunch is a sticker proclaiming "ORGANIC!" I already feel like I'm going to live forever. I am pleased with the purchase and the display so I walk away, basking in my triumph. The boys are busy playing so I sit down to read, getting lost in my book and forgetting to listen to what those little rascals are doing. After a few pages I realize that I'm hearing a weird banging noise. I've been hearing it for a while now, but "mom-brain" has been kind of blocking it out but now I'm definitely hearing it and the alarm bells are sounding that something is horribly wrong.<br />
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I take a deep breath and close my book. "Oh Dear God, no. Please don't let this be what I think is happening...."<br />
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I walk out to the dining room.<br />
<br />
Both boys are sitting on top of the table.<br />
<br />
with a hammer....<br />
<br />
smashing my bananas.<br />
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<br />
I scream.<br />
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<br />
I scream.<br />
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<br />
I scream.<br />
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So the neighbors have no idea that my kids just destroyed something that was important to me (yeah yeah, they were just bananas, but on some level, they were important and symbolic to ME). They don't know that my kids just did something stupid and dangerous and destructive and infuriating. All they know is that woman next door is screaming like a psychotic bitch. So that's why my neighbors hate me. I'm sorry, I just do not possess whatever it is that takes over in some mothers and allows them to be cool, calm and collected in situations like this. Whatever that part of the psyche is, I don't have it. My kids know I love them, I don't ever hit them, I call that a win. But they do things like this all the time.<br />
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New List: Recent reasons I have blown a lung from screaming at the boys<br />
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1. Shea wrapping a plastic grocery bag around Kellan's head<br />
2. Shea wrapping the ribbon from a balloon around Kellan's neck<br />
3. Kellan pushing the computer chair up to the counter so he could play with a knife<br />
4. Kellan using a toy cup to drink water out of the dog bowl<br />
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<br />
and those all happened in the past month..... So I scream. Judge away.....nicolepiperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678078094646369361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4833853276358984589.post-7595833874781335772012-10-15T15:21:00.002-07:002012-10-15T15:46:55.276-07:00The Downside of Couponing -or- Puke-burger HelperAs ya'll know (yes, I said ya'll, I'm newly southern so I'm trying it out....) I'm a couponer. Not an extreme couponer, I don't have 43 toothbrushes and 50 bags of Cat Litter and no cat. I just strategically use coupons to get items for dirt cheap in what I thought was reasonable quantities. I have recently discovered the down -side of couponing and even more surprising was the realization that there even WAS a down side. The down side is this: I have a large quantity of disgusting food that I don't want to eat.<br />
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This week my 4-year-old went to the optometrist. He wears glasses because he has low vision, astigmatism and a "wandering eye." While there we got excellent news. His vision is improving significantly. He may not even need glasses when he gets older. YES! The bad news.... he needs a new prescription, our insurance won't cover any of it. Shit. So reluctantly I handed over my debit card.... goodbye grocery money for the next two weeks. But it's hard to feel bad about spending money on your child's health, this is his vision, his ability to see - I'd fork over the mortgage payment if I had to so that my baby could see better.<br />
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I call my husband and tell him the good news, he is ecstatic. Then I tell him the bad news, his response is the same as mine. "Shit." But then he says, "It's ok, we have a ton of food from your couponing, we'll just make ourselves eat that for the next two weeks." Well that makes perfect sense, this is amazing, this is what couponing is for, situations exactly like this. Driving home I take a mental inventory of what we have in our food stockpile, we should be fine, I should only need to buy milk and yogurt.... maybe some beef, we're good. We should be fine.<br />
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We are not fine. When I get home I look at what we actually have: 8 boxes of Hamburger Helper, 4 bags of Bird's Eye "Voila!" frozen meals, 10 (f@*#ing 10!!) boxes of frozen fish sticks (I don't even like fish), a bunch of cans of soup, and two packages of Polish Sausage. <i>What the @*$# did I do? Why did I buy this crap?</i> Oh yeah, because I had coupons for them, they were on sale and I got them for pennies. But in my inner monologue I'm asking myself, why would I even buy these things that I don't like and I don't feel "good" about feeding to my family? I actually really like to cook, I love to find interesting new recipes on Pinterest and dazzle my family with my amazing cooking "skillz". I feel a little depressed as I realize that I don't get to cook for two weeks. I have to "prepare" these processed "food items". I guess maybe somewhere I rationalized it by saying, "Well, yes Hamburger Helper is terrible for you but when the Zombie Apocolypse comes, I'll have a bunch of shelf stable food that will last forever and we won't starve while we are running for our lives from our undead neighbors."<br />
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Well, today is day four of this two week excursion into food poverty and I already feel sick. I am having stomach "problems", I gagged while making our Hamburger Helper tonight because one box into the stash and I'm already sick of it. I don't think I'll be able to eat the fish. We eat it once a week as it is, and the thought of eating any more if it makes my stomach churn. I'm even attempting to be creative by making pancakes one night, soup and sandwiches another night..... but I still feel like failure as a homemaker for not cooking an actual meal for my family. The funny thing is, though, when I spend hours making good, wholesome, organic and healthy meals for my kids, they won't touch it. But guess how fast they inhaled the Puke-burger helper.... I didn't have the threaten their lives ONCE to get them to eat it, ... not once. Why is that??<br />
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But even in this bleakest of hours, I don't denounce couponing. I will, however, be changing my tactics. I will no longer stockpile food that I don't want in the off-chance of needing it during a food crisis. I will no longer get food that is not healthy just because it was cheap. From now on, I will only use coupons on items that I want and need, and that I will not feel bad about serving to my family. I solemnly swear.....<br />
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nicolepiperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678078094646369361noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4833853276358984589.post-58838992708536484892012-09-06T11:57:00.002-07:002012-09-06T11:57:33.249-07:00Is it Possible to Recover from being a Crappy Parent? My children are spoiled.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6CYAbXWRlOyIGTmgsMnH0xHQU3rq8WpNPolU53fJ4Itb0bMuZQlAqrgpZQxnPvGnsPheFocGIYvz_zd8j2eJ8rzq6u8h3HWzD5vvQoLkh-1XxqrC1O8KDGZ9oJOWXzN01MZf_iivrSCA/s1600/100_0423.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6CYAbXWRlOyIGTmgsMnH0xHQU3rq8WpNPolU53fJ4Itb0bMuZQlAqrgpZQxnPvGnsPheFocGIYvz_zd8j2eJ8rzq6u8h3HWzD5vvQoLkh-1XxqrC1O8KDGZ9oJOWXzN01MZf_iivrSCA/s400/100_0423.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
(Shea in 2010, already with more toys than a baby needs)<br />
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And not a cute, "everyone loves them and showers them with gifts" kind of spoiled. We're talking, "expects a toy every time we enter a store" spoiled and "screams like a mad man" otherwise kind of spoiled. It's seriously out of control. It's our fault - totally, completely our fault. So let's break it down, problem and solution, CSI style...<br />
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Exhibit A -<br />
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At the dentist...Shea is a little nervous....the hygienist says, "If you're a big brave boy you'll get a special prize when you're done!" Shea, "Ok, but make it a spider with a squishy tummy that sticks to the window. That's what I want." Later, she offers him a toothbrush. Shea: "......... I don't like those. Will you get me one that has Buzz Lightyear on it?"<br />
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<br />
Exhibit B -<br />
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At our grocery store, the butcher gives out string cheese to the kids to keep them busy while mom and dad are shopping. He noticed my kids eyeballing him and ran right out with two sticks of cheese. Shea took it, looked at it disgustedly and said, "I'd rather have a cupcake." The butcher laughed and said, "Well, I'm sorry all I have is cheese." Shea: "Well, next time you should probably make one for me."<br />
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Exhibit C -<br />
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My parents came to visit and we picked them up from the airport. We got in the car, buckled up and Shea looked at his grandma and said, "So did you bring a lot of money so you can take me to the toy store?"<br />
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Exhibit D -<br />
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Shea saw a Jake and the Neverland Pirates Pirate Ship that cost almost 50.00 and begged for it for MONTHS. We kept telling him that it was a little too expensive for a "just because" purchase and that he would have to wait. For his birthday we took him to Toys R Us and let him buy the pirate ship. We took it home, he played with it for 25 minutes and then said, "Can we go back to Toys R Us and buy that Dinosaur I saw." Us - "No, Shea you just got a very expensive pirate ship toy." Shea - "Well let's take it back then and get the Dinosaur, I'm done with it."<br />
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I could go on and on with more stories but as I type them it's getting more and more painful for me to relive these. Why is my kid such a brat? We don't act like that, we certainly model good behavior for him when it comes to receiving gifts and being grateful for things we are given. Where did he learn this behavior and how do I stop it???<br />
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Matt and I decided that we need to lay down the law.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinEpW0mNb67q0_okbrfXNCaNGNDibp_sngta-xlso9UomCEsm0iQFLiBRqLvGvsXpQZimDDQlOVixHvrZLur9Z3pRKXKPrJacmJ3uv9Xu0OzrkDyAxkGWSdX27OkU_6UsEz1cXW2zj7aI/s1600/100_2756.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinEpW0mNb67q0_okbrfXNCaNGNDibp_sngta-xlso9UomCEsm0iQFLiBRqLvGvsXpQZimDDQlOVixHvrZLur9Z3pRKXKPrJacmJ3uv9Xu0OzrkDyAxkGWSdX27OkU_6UsEz1cXW2zj7aI/s640/100_2756.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
(Jedi Style)<br />
<br />
Things need to change around here AND fast. The toy buying is getting crazy. I hereby admit that we use shopping for toys as bribery. We told Shea that if he would STAY in his own bed all night, he would get a gold star and at the end of the month, he can cash the stars in for a trip to the toy store. In theory, this sounds fantastic. In practice, it failed miserably. Yes, he sleeps in his own bed now (but still wakes us up 2-3 times a night demanding that Matt go sleep WITH him in his bunk bed), however we have somehow accrued WAY more toys than the "once a month" stipulation and I'm not exactly sure how that happened. When he's getting a new toy once a week, the gold star incentive loses its luster.<br />
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So the problem becomes that WE are in more need of discipline than Shea is. WE need to stop buying toys. Ok....sounds simple. Let's do it. Uh oh... Christmas is coming quickly. Hobby Lobby and Wal Mart already have their Christmas "gear" out and we need to start thinking about our game plan. You can't NOT buy your kids toys for Christmas? Can you.....? We've been juggling this around and trying to think of ways to have a toy-free or at least minimal-toy Christmas. Maybe one toy each and the rest books, movies, clothes... I don't know. We're still planning this out and have plenty of time to think about it.....open to suggestions!<br />
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And today I had to do what I always said I wouldn't do.... enforce TV rules. My parents had TV rules for us. They blocked certain channels, including Mtv which actually did kill me..... and we weren't allowed to turn the TV on until after dinner. When I became a parent I said, "That sucked! I'm going to let my kids watch TV whenever they want...." Well....now I know why my parents did that to us. It made us actually have to be human beings. When the TV is on in my house, my kids are vapid, brainless zombies. I could (and have) screamed FIRE!!!!! at the top of my lungs and received absolutely NO response from them. My mom and I call this the "Piper trance," as all males in the Piper side of the family seem to have the ability to focus so intensely on TV that the world could be ending all around them and they'd be oblivious to it. And the moment I decided to put my foot down was today actually.... when I was trying to teach a homeschool lesson to Shea and he was flopping around and rolling his eyes and being just weird. I asked him what his problem was and he said, "I don't want to do school because I'll miss Doc McStuffins....." THAT.WAS.IT. I immediately informed him that as of RIGHT NOW, there will be new rules in this house, young man. The TV doesn't get turned on until 6 pm (if at all). And right now, my kids are actually laughing and playing with each other rather than laying on the couch like zombie blobs.<br />
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So here I am, declaring publicly on the internet for the whole world to see, I AM A CRAPPY PARENT! I have let this be my life. I have let my children become this. But I am going to change. WE are going to change. I wonder though, if you can ever recover from this? Will my kids always be ungrateful spoiled little brats?? I really hope not. I hope that we can turn this around in time to prevent any lasting damage. There's plenty of hope for Kellan, but Shea...I'm not too sure. I'll keep you informed of our progress!<br />
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<br />nicolepiperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678078094646369361noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4833853276358984589.post-53534229023229106122012-07-25T06:37:00.004-07:002012-07-25T06:37:57.515-07:00Couponing - It's not just for HoardersA couple of friends have asked me if I would teach them to "Coupon," so here it is...<br />
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Here was my score this morning....<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTrdm_34EnMb1rv6H3OnauALDD7aVTXadfTk3SJvc0jdrY0LctWsY6QH9wv5_V_Wvt_FtX-lljrUKTuaWO-yK91daYdm2tc0d1iWLWr2_oli2Hd6yIgrFtZ6GkwU3U1ZmiGBtwVEPAmyo/s1600/100_2646.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTrdm_34EnMb1rv6H3OnauALDD7aVTXadfTk3SJvc0jdrY0LctWsY6QH9wv5_V_Wvt_FtX-lljrUKTuaWO-yK91daYdm2tc0d1iWLWr2_oli2Hd6yIgrFtZ6GkwU3U1ZmiGBtwVEPAmyo/s640/100_2646.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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It's a lot of food - and it's all name brand, the fruit and veggies are organic, (yes, there are some processed convenience foods, get over yourself). There is 202.70 worth of food here, but I only paid 126.30. That's a savings of 76.40.<br />
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My mile-long receipt....<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi72Itnu21NTuDzFnio-DBtCuBXWxYw17egFaQuOMKw4YEkw_tctuO_BUFd37OBXAx0Jq4RgbB5oRbsKackDuNLaUwdxf1ecmXxlG0OQPVl07_4JnYPHPZwU6rsrIhqdjT7zSN78a2ffjo/s1600/100_2648.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi72Itnu21NTuDzFnio-DBtCuBXWxYw17egFaQuOMKw4YEkw_tctuO_BUFd37OBXAx0Jq4RgbB5oRbsKackDuNLaUwdxf1ecmXxlG0OQPVl07_4JnYPHPZwU6rsrIhqdjT7zSN78a2ffjo/s640/100_2648.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic6KIQYnbE2XzRlHvjwsmqDU8YcefVyiU-CKjzpgZ0GVHN8o5vKHDiGRJRR0UX3zCcjir7gs7Oc6CajBpsex0zXvyIF4HLLiyO1xqj5WOrc6E5dzAsXxKsqNjuz6dDydvlU2UbWB8wang/s1600/100_2649.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic6KIQYnbE2XzRlHvjwsmqDU8YcefVyiU-CKjzpgZ0GVHN8o5vKHDiGRJRR0UX3zCcjir7gs7Oc6CajBpsex0zXvyIF4HLLiyO1xqj5WOrc6E5dzAsXxKsqNjuz6dDydvlU2UbWB8wang/s640/100_2649.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Not my best haul, but it's a good example of a typical shopping trip for me. Once, only once, did I save more than I spent... if memory serves, I spent 104 and saved 107 and on that day I did a happy dance at the checkout.<br />
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Couponing is nothing to be ashamed of. I've tried to get friends and family who are struggling financially to take up couponing and they roll their eyes at me or say, "Um, we don't use coupons." So let me get this straight, couponing is tacky, but being on food stamps and government assistance isn't... ok. And I've also had friends and family beg me to teach them to do this and then decide it's too complicated and give up without ever trying. So here is my tutorial - don't ask me to teach you anymore, just follow these tips and tricks...<br />
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One year ago, (and this is embarassing for me to admit) we were spending no less than 150.00 a week on groceries and household items (toilet paper, diapers, etc.) and getting practically nothing. We ate our cupboards bare to the point that by our next paycheck we were eating walmart brand graham crackers all day because that's all we had. I would make a list of food we needed for the week in order of importance and I was never able to get everything on my list. We always made sure the kids had food and diapers but Matt and I survived off of very little. We never had fresh fruit or vegetables in the house because we couldn't afford them.<br />
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One day I was flipping through the channels (yes, we had cable but not food... priorities....) and I saw the show "Extreme Couponing" where I watched women walk into a grocery store with a 5 dollar bill and walk out with thousands of dollars worth of food. "I.need.to.do.this." I said to Matt. And I did. I bought the sunday paper and clipped the coupons that I wanted to use, went to the store...and I still got practically nothing and I still spent 150.00. Why wasn't this working?? And then I met my dear friend Aimee, who politely shook her head at me and said, "You are doing it wrong... here let me show you." And my first shopping trip after Aimee's "How to" tutorial, I only spent 100.00 and I saved 80.00.<br />
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ANYONE can do this. It's easy. It sounds complicated but after you do it once or twice it becomes second nature and you will never shop the same way again.<br />
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Here was what my cupboard looked like one year ago:<br />
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Yeah.... nothing. I don't have a picture, but if I did it would be of an empty cupboard with cobwebs hanging from the corners. Imagine a tumble weed and a lone piece of candy corn if you want to.<br />
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And here is what my pantry looks like today:<br />
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And there is also a top shelf that you can't see with a crap load of condiments. </div>
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I paid next to nothing for all of this. Still think couponing is tacky?</div>
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So here are my tips for getting started. </div>
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1. Start buying the sunday paper when there are coupon inserts. You can go to www.sundaycouponpreview.com to see what will be in it and if it's worth buying. If there aren't enough coupons that I want to make it worth spending 3.00 on the paper, I won't buy it. If there are a lot of coupons I think I'll use, I'll buy anywhere from 2-4 copies. (Tip: don't clip the coupons, just write the date it was in the paper on the outside corner and file it away. Most couponing websites will tell you where to find a certain coupon by telling you the date it appeared in the paper.)</div>
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2. Bookmark websites like www.coupons.com and print coupons right from you computer. You can usually print 2 of any coupon. Also go to the website of a particular brand that you like. I like to feed Kellan that YoBaby organic yogurt so I go to www.stonyfieldfarms.com and I can print coupons from their website that you won't find anywhere else. </div>
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3. Pick your store. Where I live, Publix and Target are where I get the most for my money. My friends and family back in Michigan, I suggest Kroger. When you are at your store, keep your eyes out for "Store Coupons" (coupons that are redeemable ONLY at that store. At Kroger you have to get a Kroger card and they will send you store coupons in the mail, at Publix they set them out on display at the store) Most of these places will allow you to use 1 store coupon and 1 manufacturer coupon on the same item. For example, let's say Kraft Salad dressing is on sale for 1.99. You have a Kroger store coupon for 1.00 off any one Kraft dressing and a coupon clipped from the paper for 1.00 off any one Kraft dressing. You can use them both and get it completely free - which I HAVE done several times. Salad dressing seems to be on sale a lot. (Tip: some stores will take competitor coupons. My Publix will take Kroger coupons not just for name brand things, but for store brand as well. I get a lot of coupons from Kroger for like, 40 cents off Kroger brand frozen veggies, Publix will honor it on their Publix brand frozen veggies... and they double it so it works out to be 80 cents off...)</div>
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4. Find out if your store "doubles." What this means is that they will match your coupon up to a certain amount. For example, my Publix store will double my coupon up to 50 cents. So if Ramen noodles are 99 cents and I have a coupon for 50 cents off, my store will match it at the register and it will be free. </div>
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5. Meal Plan. Sit down and plan what you will make for breakfast, lunch and dinner for the whole week and ONLY buy what you need. If you just go to the store with a stack of coupons and no list you will be there forever and get a lot of crap you probably didn't need. Meal planning is essential to winning this "game." I never go without my list and I rarely buy things that are not on that list. </div>
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6. Use a "cheat sheet" from a website. There are several websites that will do all the work for you. They scan the ads and sales, and tell you where you can find a coupon for these items and how much your final cost will be. Here are some good ones: www.couponmom.com, www.iheartpublix.com, www.iheartkroger.com, www.southernsavers.com and I'm sure there are several others, you just have to hunt for them but they will make your life and your couponing endeavors infinitely easier. Facebook is a good resource - if you "like" products that you use a lot you can find exclusive coupons and samples.</div>
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So that's the best I've got for you. I hope it helps! You shouldn't be embarrassed to use coupons, the teenager at the checkout making minimum wage will not laugh at you, I promise. I rarely spend more than 100.00 a week and I get SO MUCH food. And you don't have to buy 100 bottles of ketchup and 1000 rolls of dental floss, you can be practical about it and eat well, and every so often you'll score some free stuff. So off you go! Good luck!</div>nicolepiperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678078094646369361noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4833853276358984589.post-54890961623176450392012-07-24T07:56:00.000-07:002012-07-24T07:56:49.995-07:00National Geographic presents: Home-schoolers - The Creatures ExposedIt took me two hours to organize this space yesterday, but I am pleased to present our "Learning Nook."<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7CkTPrLBhh4VpfvDm_Pe4DX8QztfqF_JT6yXDhHZEogvyOcuXyZTfqEinXt8uBR6jH6C7R635mDlYnG_L2CyBesYYBkGJNL3E4pW195FxQ_bHNnqK_LdgWokB3pwgqe_QoM2mX72CKKM/s1600/100_2638.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7CkTPrLBhh4VpfvDm_Pe4DX8QztfqF_JT6yXDhHZEogvyOcuXyZTfqEinXt8uBR6jH6C7R635mDlYnG_L2CyBesYYBkGJNL3E4pW195FxQ_bHNnqK_LdgWokB3pwgqe_QoM2mX72CKKM/s640/100_2638.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBijkAWnF8DBbTwvGeNux9cRZDMAzXoSJgAlaKW5RsOwCBlV5XwBO9kryPOwS4GzuloJL2-hO5d6RkDqP5r-_0AfaqzNxTGb1o0Uo79gzccDwm4eWxRWjmhUO2DHFG6fp06Kf-M8ML8eg/s1600/100_2639.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBijkAWnF8DBbTwvGeNux9cRZDMAzXoSJgAlaKW5RsOwCBlV5XwBO9kryPOwS4GzuloJL2-hO5d6RkDqP5r-_0AfaqzNxTGb1o0Uo79gzccDwm4eWxRWjmhUO2DHFG6fp06Kf-M8ML8eg/s640/100_2639.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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(Note: The dog bone on the floor is NOT part of the "nook.")<br />
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In two weeks Shea and I will officially begin our journey into home-schooling. I know, I know what you're thinking. And trust me, you're not the only one to roll their eyes at me or to look at me like I've just said we're converting to satanism. Friends and family have all put in their two cents about me putting my children at a disadvantage by not placing them in public schools or have prematurely predicted my children's future social awkwardness, but I have done a lot of soul searching, a lot of research and a TON of curriculum development/ lesson planning and have decided that my children's absolute best chance is for me to home-school them. And this has nothing to do with our public school district. From what I hear, ours is very good and the teachers are great. Quite simply, we can... so why not? I have a degree in secondary education, English, German and teaching foreign language. I have interned in the public school system as well as taught in a private foreign language school in Japan. I have experience substitute teaching at all grade levels and all subjects. I feel completely confident and competent when it comes to this. I don't think homeschooling is for everyone, but I DO think it is for us.<br />
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As I've said before, my kid is a genius. No, seriously - he's incredibly smart, articulate and intuitive. Ask anyone. When we first started toying with the idea of homeschooling, I decided it may help me gain some perspective if I took Shea to one of the local preschools and we observed a class. The school was lovely - it was very clean, the kids were happy, it seemed safe, the staff and teachers looked friendly and caring. But Shea was beyond what the kids were learning. It was the middle of the school year and the kids were learning shapes and colors, which is exactly what preschoolers should be learning... but my preschooler mastered those things when he was 2. (I'm completely serious). Shea was already starting to read, doing first grade math and could tell you the anatomy and physiology of his digestive tract. I decided then and there that we were definitely homeschooling. Shea needs to be challenged to keep this momentum going and we cannot afford a private "gifted" school... so here we are.<br />
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I created his curriculum and we will not be learning preschool topics, most of his curriculum is Kindergarten and First grade subjects, that I developed myself. I had a really hard time finding a pre-made store bought curriculum that I liked. Almost 95% of the curriculum for sale was Christian Bible study based (nothing wrong with that, just not for us). And I eagerly began collecting and hoarding school supplies. Here is out Art drawer:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxmi6qCsTMX2cZCJsB55jS9X651jTTPFnKLBJDbLSL1cN2kR1-76Kiy7II5athQfynnTCFsaLZ3K_CnxkV52HSzFaYAuHj17ZbzjNXFXdbJe7yfvKzFY8Qy9nDwXMOgCTAHDIHyPOzbzo/s1600/100_2640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxmi6qCsTMX2cZCJsB55jS9X651jTTPFnKLBJDbLSL1cN2kR1-76Kiy7II5athQfynnTCFsaLZ3K_CnxkV52HSzFaYAuHj17ZbzjNXFXdbJe7yfvKzFY8Qy9nDwXMOgCTAHDIHyPOzbzo/s640/100_2640.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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And a drawer full of other teaching tools:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWO2UI4AJ013F4DifysIXJpfqRLPgbj39k_n7u8zFuqa1Oxz44b4wYub2jkjxM-7j3GcO68mNa8_xZyNTwAgYB2zp3o9QQEEdooKBM11xkma2MEB2Hv7HR_PvwmZqB3X-cKmnwyiXKfsA/s1600/100_2641.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWO2UI4AJ013F4DifysIXJpfqRLPgbj39k_n7u8zFuqa1Oxz44b4wYub2jkjxM-7j3GcO68mNa8_xZyNTwAgYB2zp3o9QQEEdooKBM11xkma2MEB2Hv7HR_PvwmZqB3X-cKmnwyiXKfsA/s640/100_2641.jpg" width="480" /> </a></div>
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I am so excited and Shea is too. I think there are a lot of misconceptions about kids who are home-schooled, simply because people don't know what it really is.They think that all home-schooled kids are Amish or something, so let me dispel some of the rumors and accusations I have heard recently....</div>
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New List: Common myths associated with Homeschooling (and YES, some of these things have actually been said to me....)</div>
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1. All home-schooled kids are extremely religious bible thumpers</div>
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This is not true. While the majority of home-school families ARE christian and may be extreme, there are several families, mine included, who are homeschooling simply because they want to, they enjoy it and they think that they will be able to give their kids an advantage that they won't find in public schools. We are not religious and will not be using a Bible Study curriculum... so this accusation is officially debunked.</div>
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2. Home-school kids are behind in a lot of things and when their parents eventually give up and dump them in a public school, they don't know how to read or write and are clinically retarded..... (a teacher said this one to me...in more words or less)</div>
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Really? I've know just as many public school kids who made it to high school graduation who couldn't read or write, what's their excuse? I'm sure there are parents who are currently home-schooling their kids who SHOULD NOT be. I personally believe that it's a great advantage to have some kind of background in education in order to properly home-school, but I've personally known people who did not have a teaching degree, home-schooled their kids and churned out some brilliant, kind-hearted and thoughtful children. Home-schooling is what you make it and the effort you put into it but it is unfair to paint all home-schooled kids with the same brush.... Next!</div>
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3. People who home-school are doing it just because they want to sleep in, stay in their pajamas all day and watch TV.....</div>
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I suppose some of them do, but we will be following a structured schedule.... whether or not we get dressed in the morning, well, that's none of your business....</div>
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4. All home-schooled kids are weird.</div>
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It doesn't matter if your kid is home-schooled or public schooled, weird is weird. Your kid is only going to be as messed up as you make them. Most "normal" people have this vision of home-schooled kids being locked in bamboo cages all day and reciting bible verses. They think that kids who are home-schooled are missing out on the social aspect of school and have no friends. The truth is, I've met several hundred public school students and would be incredibly proud if my children NEVER acted like them. My kids will have plenty of opportunity to socialize, there are sports and clubs for them to join, as well as home-school "clubs" that organize field trips and play dates to make sure that these kids get plenty of opportunity to spend time with kids their own age. </div>
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And my kids will probably get some "real" classroom time if there's ever a subject I don't feel qualified to teach them and if they ever tell me that they want to switch over to public school, I will respect their wishes and let them do so. </div>
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In conclusion, I'm really excited to start this new journey and I think it will be both fun and advantageous not just for my kids, but for me as well. I'll get to have a part in their education and learning experiences and I'll get to watch them grow and acquire the knowledge that they'll use for the rest of their lives. I won't feel like I've wasted a college degree by being a stay-at-home-mom and I'll get to teach (which is what I love to do) without having to deal with other people's crappy kids. We won't have to schedule our lives around the public school's calendar. If we ever want to take a family vacation... Field Trip! So wish us luck and I'll let ya'll know how it goes!</div>
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<br />nicolepiperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678078094646369361noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4833853276358984589.post-14055256316262369522012-07-18T08:42:00.001-07:002012-07-18T08:42:29.533-07:00"Holy Birthday Party Batman!"This week was incredibly bittersweet for me. My first baby turned four years old. You get tired of hearing people say, "Treasure these moments, they grow so fast....". When Shea was first born I would get migraines from rolling my eyes so much when people would say this to me, but here I sit with a newly four year old boy and I struggle to remember things.... It's the opposite effect of when you see someone you haven't seen in a long time, and you expect them to still be a kid, because they never grew up in your mind. With your kids I think because you see them every day you don't notice them growing. I can still remember that new baby smell but I can't remember the sound of his laugh when he was a baby. I remember holding him while he slept but I can't remember the weight of him in my arms.... things like that. So anyway.... nostalgia aside THANK GOD we are moving further away from the toddler stage and closer to the kid stage!!! <-- (doing a happy dance while I type) I love my kids to death but I hate toddlers. They are the most irrational, emotional, ridiculous creatures on the planet. I liken them to Gremlins.... no bright light, don't feed them after midnight and don't get them wet.... Sure they do and say cute things but the other 23 hrs of the day they are most likely screaming, pinching, biting, yelling, having a complete melt down because you gave them a yellow sippy cup and they wanted a red sippy cup... I want them to be just a bit older so I can speak to them intelligently and not dread taking them out in public.<br />
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One of my sons is getting ever closer to being in that "age of perfection" that I've been waiting for since he was born. Every year I have a themed birthday party for him. His first birthday was "Yo Gabba Gabba", his second was "Disney's Cars", his third was "Toy Story" and when I asked him what he would like this year's theme to be I was very intrigued when he exclaimed, "Batman!" and then ran around the room with his arms extended making flying noises.... (regardless of the fact that we are constantly reminding him that Batman doesn't fly, sheesh kid, read a book....)<br />
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So grab a chair, brace yourself and prepare to be amazed by my craftiness! Drum roll, please! I give you..... The Batman themed birthday party!<br />
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Here is the birthday cake - ordered from Publix. I wish I was this
talented but I have not yet perfected my baking skills. The Batman
candle on top was ordered from eBay as were the yellow bracelets, as
modeled by Shea in this picture, that we gave out as party favors. I
also found some Batman temporary tattoos to put on all the guests and
the "Super Hero Action Words" table cloth and napkins on clearance at
Wal Mart. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis6i_N0I28RAk-phlQd0LGEx41kUx6Cduf-bIIkFFN08lfD7szqJVVFtAftzXv4yHqqOEA9s42eUo-3mAnxIADxZ4QiNjMlS101Av3QrN7UflnJM3RAJ7a1al4rPyRsjIAG47WtrF39j4/s1600/100_2576.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis6i_N0I28RAk-phlQd0LGEx41kUx6Cduf-bIIkFFN08lfD7szqJVVFtAftzXv4yHqqOEA9s42eUo-3mAnxIADxZ4QiNjMlS101Av3QrN7UflnJM3RAJ7a1al4rPyRsjIAG47WtrF39j4/s640/100_2576.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Don't bother Shea-Man, he's eating..... And yes, that is a Transformers party hat.....don't ask.....</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjclNZxFYWoanveZ6apGIbA4jyk26kzQ20YCl7EhggdheLhWHgCg96K2L070B4hwIRZ-zEMIaWUHi6G53C5N9JVgvGeW6W0nDnVhrKUqhYm25YRkuUYu3BEY7GeCjisbnFJjTVCrcOKc5Y/s1600/100_2582.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjclNZxFYWoanveZ6apGIbA4jyk26kzQ20YCl7EhggdheLhWHgCg96K2L070B4hwIRZ-zEMIaWUHi6G53C5N9JVgvGeW6W0nDnVhrKUqhYm25YRkuUYu3BEY7GeCjisbnFJjTVCrcOKc5Y/s640/100_2582.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The balloons were also ordered on eBay for a VERY reasonable price (10.00 for all of them plus free shipping) and filled with helium by the kind people at Publix. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9a6FwULApch6AOrr4VcTy8Eco80PC91IOJAgPY3Nml9VM_gKUN3UYHg6Jd0bzktLEQFZW73EOLHe4Lb6LfTzUJ5O-cCKBt2vD30zimIY4NiDamD2Q9S7KkpvFSj4-gyi8gR3zplgajVM/s1600/100_2556.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9a6FwULApch6AOrr4VcTy8Eco80PC91IOJAgPY3Nml9VM_gKUN3UYHg6Jd0bzktLEQFZW73EOLHe4Lb6LfTzUJ5O-cCKBt2vD30zimIY4NiDamD2Q9S7KkpvFSj4-gyi8gR3zplgajVM/s640/100_2556.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I found yellow streamer printed with the Batman logo on eBay.... very cheap and free shipping. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipl7r5yRsu7MmM-G9vTyRK0FqN2swf9JhNF2ZfwuhlZJZnKk4GkeDA3bFb9NRqTNDOVaDVEQkPSqMoP90Mg-Z-oYj_WHcz4ne_dUvDf6p0cv2y9s6RV1dtxoOnHf-iCf84nzOP-NGjC4s/s1600/100_2558.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipl7r5yRsu7MmM-G9vTyRK0FqN2swf9JhNF2ZfwuhlZJZnKk4GkeDA3bFb9NRqTNDOVaDVEQkPSqMoP90Mg-Z-oYj_WHcz4ne_dUvDf6p0cv2y9s6RV1dtxoOnHf-iCf84nzOP-NGjC4s/s640/100_2558.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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And here was the snack table. THIS was my favorite part and everyone got a kick out of it....<br />
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I made the labels on my home printer. In Microsoft Word I switched my page setting to be a 4x6 size, and used 4x6 index cards - the printer had no trouble with them. Google images provided the cartoon pictures. Here was our "ants on a log" (organic celery, natural peanut butter and Sunmaid Raisins), which we called "Bats on a log."<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYw7j2jjbCnpKSnoqteoJNQKuIsmpU35yduJNP64n1OUa-ST2ziCTuyfJIlF9ZaveoXQHs8pL5oweK7dPwE4a4MGgU9-w6TyxRk7hPihVp6EOk9ubDvW07tTjKIL_FiPDZYNzZejuIs5c/s1600/100_2567.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYw7j2jjbCnpKSnoqteoJNQKuIsmpU35yduJNP64n1OUa-ST2ziCTuyfJIlF9ZaveoXQHs8pL5oweK7dPwE4a4MGgU9-w6TyxRk7hPihVp6EOk9ubDvW07tTjKIL_FiPDZYNzZejuIs5c/s640/100_2567.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I made individual fruit salad cups, we had blueberries, kiwi, organic peaches, watermelon and pineapple. I couldn't think of anything clever to call them so my Feb. 2011 Due Date club girls helped me come up with the catch phrase.....<br />
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Raspberry Lemonade Crystal Light became Joker Juice....<br />
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And Check mix served in individual cups became "Catwoman Crunchies" as it does resemble cat food....and tastes about the same.....<br />
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And here is the birthday boy with his new big boy bike... couldn't find a Batman one....<br />
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The party was great, it went off without a hitch and cost less than 100.00 for all the decorations, food and cake. I made most of it myself and used eBay as a resource for procuring Batman themed items. Shea said it was his greatest birthday party ever and I'm so proud of the little guy. He's grown up so much in four years and I'm looking forwards to many more birthday parties in the future!<br />
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And yes, that is a Batman onesie on Kellan and a muscled Batman tank top on Shea....nicolepiperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678078094646369361noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4833853276358984589.post-1484981781173602912012-07-10T12:22:00.001-07:002012-07-10T12:22:24.195-07:00Lactose Shmacktose....Hot fudge sundaes, strawberry cheesecake, chocolate cake with cream cheese frosting, vanilla pudding.... You may look at this list and see a selection of decadent desserts the thought of which cause you to start salivating..... I look at this list and see the top four foods that make me shit my pants. I am lactose intolerant.<br />
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It started when I was in college but wasn't actually diagnosed until recently. I NEVER felt good, my stomach always hurt, I was always sick to my stomach, I missed out on a lot of things, canceled plans all the time because I felt so sick. My weight would fluctuate drastically, (dropping below 100lbs at one point) with no rhyme or reason and I could not figure out why. Those who know me well know that I am a bit of a hypochondriac and that I tend to immediately think the worst, so of course I was sure I was dying from stomach cancer. I went to several doctors and no one could find anything wrong with me. Most of them stopped reading my chart at "Occupation: College Student" and immediately told me it was because of stress. Some of them did blood work just to appease me and of course it would always come back normal.<br />
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Some days I would be totally fine and others I would lay in bed fighting vomit and drinking Pepto Bismol straight out of the bottle. I was literally going through a bottle of Pepto every week or so.... which in turn caused other problems. Then came the miraculous invention of Facebook where you can bitch about your aches and pains publicly and people you never speak to face to face can commiserate and dole out "there, theres." I was complaining about not feeling good (it was the day of my son's first birthday party and I was almost too sick to go) and a friend I've know since Kindergarten private messaged me and said, "Hey, this sounds exactly like what was going on with me. Have you ever thought you might be having an issue with dairy?" .<i>....No.....No I hadn't thought of that.....come to think of it, why didn't any of the doctors I've seen over the past few years think of that?</i> At the time dairy was the biggest part of my diet. I had milk with my cereal, cooked with milk, ate cream cheese on my bagels, ate ice cream like it was my job and had more milk with more cereal before I went to bed. I decided to experiment and cut dairy out of my diet. And you know what? It worked. I've been dairy free for three years now and I have not had one episode of nausea/yucky stomach ever since (unless someone poisons me with milk in a recipe because they didn't know).<br />
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The thing about being lactose intolerant though, is that some foods don't bother you at all and others turn you into a green, sweaty mess. And it's different for everyone. For me, I can eat yogurt and cheese all day long but all other dairy kills me. One day we were at our local Target which conveniently has a Starbucks located inside. My husband grabbed a coffee, took a sip and starting moaning and making out with his cup, "Ohmygod, it's sooooooo good! Try this!" I took a big gulp and stopped dead in my tracks. <i>Smack smack</i>....<i>smack smack</i>....(<--- this is me smacking my lips trying to discern the "milky" taste in my mouth.) "Matt, what is this?" "A Latte." "Is there milk in it?" "Yes.NO.....Yes. Shit, sorry." My own husband tried to poison me and I got to lay on the couch for the rest of the afternoon in between bouts of flaming diarrhea. <br />
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And it's beginning to appear that Shea has also come down with my affliction. He too is having stomach problems, and I've been experimenting with his diet and have found that on days that he doesn't have "real" dairy, he doesn't complain of stomach aches or have "bad potty." The problem here is that now all four of us drink a different kind of milk - costing roughly 15.00 a week at the market. <br />
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As you can see, Kellan (doesn't) drink Organic Whole Milk (he is still
breastfeeding so when we pour a glass of traitor milk for him, we end up
having it spit in our faces and then a sippy cup launched at our
heads), Shea drinks Soy milk because soy is good for boys (bad for
women) and he doesn't like the taste of Rice or Almond milk. I drink
Almond or Rice milk (because soy is bad for women and because cow's milk
is you-know-why) and Matt drinks whatever is about to go bad or
whatever swill is on sale that week. It's complicated and expensive....
but so is shitting your pants. And because I can handle yogurt, I eat
one cup of greek yogurt every morning as soon as I wake up to help
regulate my blood sugar, as I am also hypoglycemic (whole different
story) and I cook with it - in place of sour cream, cream cheese or
buttermilk. But don't cry for me....there are a lot of new alternatives popping up to make my life more tolerable. They have started coming out with coconut milk ice cream, which is amazingly delicious, unlike soy ice cream, which tastes like baby formula vomit. New lactose free yogurt. Crossing my fingers still for an alternative to cream cheese... I miss it so much! But I feel so much better now... dairy is the devil.<br />
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I'm just crossing my fingers that Kellan isn't lactose intolerant as well..... Here he is enjoying a piece of cheese, which at the moment is the only food he will willingly eat.nicolepiperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678078094646369361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4833853276358984589.post-68883830973894262482012-07-08T04:58:00.001-07:002012-07-08T04:58:16.673-07:00Hotel Pensacola - You can check out any time you like......<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Two weeks ago we took our first ever family vacation. My husband had to travel to Pensacola for work so the boys and I packed up and tagged along. Sounds wonderful, right? It was in fact, the most miserable five days (felt like 5 weeks) of our lives. <br />
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Two days before we are supposed to leave, all hell breaks loose. Shea comes downstairs that morning and says, "bobby, cad I hab sub cereal for breakfast?" Matt and I stare at each other in wide-eyed horror, we knew then that we were doomed. You see, my family follows a very strict cycle of sickness. Shea ALWAYS gets it first. Then, Kellan gets it and stays up all night for two nights screaming. Then due to lack of sleep, I get it and am bedridden from illness and exhaustion and finally, Matt gets it, has to go to work anyway and calls me from the office sounding like a hostage while I talk him through taking some Tylenol and making tea, as though I were helping him dismantle a bomb over the phone. It's literally a good solid week of torturous cruelty. <br />
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This particular bout of infectious disease, did not disappoint. Shea was buckets of snot and coughing his head off all day and then that night woke up every hour moaning, crying and twitching. I went downstairs to retrieve the Children's Advil, (Damn you drug manufacturers for not making cold medicines suitable for children under 6! Damn you!!!!) I poured the grape flavored syrup into the measuring cap, sat Shea up on my lap, cradled him and told him, "Here sweetie, take this Magic Juice (yes, this is what we call it) and it'll make you feel better" POW! He bitch slapped me and starting screaming and kicking his legs, "NO NO NO NO NO NO NO......." while flailing around like he was having a seizure. In one deft Ninja move I tilted his head back, pried his mouth open and dumped the medicine in. "PSHHHHTTTTTT" and then he spat it all over my face, all over his bed, in my hair..... sigh. Whatever, dude - be sick.<br />
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End of night one without sleep.<br />
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The next morning Kellan is acting grumpy. Right on schedule. I spend the day packing and cleaning and making sure that everything is ready for our very first super awesome spectacular family vacation! But as night fell upon Georgia, we knew we were in for it. As if on cue Kellan begins to scream. And scream. And scream. I don't know if other people's babies do this, because Shea never did. Shea never got sick until he was almost 2. He never even had a cold, or showed any discomfort from teething - he was an angel baby. One week after I stopped breastfeeding him (yes, do the math and get over your shock) he came down with RSV and had to be on medication and breathing treatments, it was awful. Anyway - Kellan has been sick so many times I've lost count and I'm sure it's because he has an older germy brother who kindly passes them on to him, but he is also the WORST sick kid I have ever seen. Most kids when they are sick just want to sleep. Kellan refuses to. He screams and tries to claw our faces off and nothing we do can comfort him. We were supposed to wake up that morning, have breakfast, drop the dog off at the kennel and head to Florida but I knew that if Matt didn't get some sleep, we would drive off into a ditch - end of Piper family. So I sent him and Shea (who was snoring so loud from congestion that we wouldn't have been able to sleep even if Kellan weren't reenacting scenes from Nightmare on Elm Street) to the guest room so they'd at least get some rest. And I, the martyr of the family, sat up all night rocking a baby who would put Linda Blair to shame.....<br />
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End of night two without sleep.<br />
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That morning we crawl out of bed, drag ourselves down the stairs, load up the car, and head off TO OUR SUPER AWESOME FIRST EVER FAMILY VACATION EXTRAVAGANZA!!!!!<br />
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The drive starts pleasantly enough. Both kids are too tired to throw fits. They think its cool that the dog is in the mini-van with them. But immediately after dropping Osgood off, the screaming begins. Kellan doesn't like his car seat. He freaks out so badly and add sickness on top of that - it was over before it had begun. He screams. And screams. And screams. "DING" - the van starts beeping. The tire pressure light is on. Matt pulls over and discovers that we have a flat tire and there is a big nail stuck in it. We are in the middle of Atlanta, not even an hour into our drive. F*#%! We find a tire place, the guys there are super nice and don't make us wait at all, they patch it and we are out of there in less than 15 minutes. And I'm thinking to myself, "The sickness, the tire.... these are signs from the universe that we are not supposed to go on this trip." But we go anyway. Because we are stupid.<br />
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The next four hours of the trip consist of Kellan screaming, stopping at the dirtiest McDonald's in all of Alabama and more screaming. And then I begin to sneeze. Matt cracks his knuckles and looks at me like I'm beginning to turn into a zombie and has that look in his eye like he's deciding weather to end my misery now or wait until I've turned. We keep driving. <br />
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When we finally get to the hotel we are miserable, achy from sitting for so long and hungry. All we want is to grab some take out, go to our hotel room and lay in bed for the rest of the day. We grab all our stuff, get our key, go into the room and...... it's one bed and a chair and you can touch both walls with your arms extended. The four of us are supposed to stay here for a week?? Mind you this is an extended stay hotel and this is supposed to be a suite. Matt calls down and we discover that there is a pee wee softball tournament in town and ALL of the pee wees are staying at our hotel and they are booked solid. BUT - they can move us to another one bed suite that's a little bigger and has a pull-out couch. Ok cool. So the next room is in fact bigger, it's the handi-capable room which means everything is wider and lower to the ground, which also means that Kellan can open everything... yay. The first thing I notice is that there is trash still in the trash can. Not a huge deal.... Then I pull some dishes down to make coffee and there is dried old coffee in the bottom of every coffee cup, lipstick stains on the water glasses and dried milk in the cereal bowls. Really? sigh. Matt calls down again and asks them to please call us if a bigger suite opens up.<br />
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And then God looked down from heaven, saw that we were on vacation and already miserable, chuckled and threw down Tropical Storm Debby.<br />
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The winds are crazy and the beaches are closed. We go anyway just to check it out and it is pretty cool. The waves are huge, the water pulled back so far from the beach I can't believe it and life guards standing every few feet trying to keep people out of the water. All the shops are closed and there isn't anything to do but sit in our hotel room and listen to the kids beat the crap out of each other. This is a picture of Shea after Kellan hit him in the head with a frying pan: <br />
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I'm going to condense the rest of this story because it's quite long, but the rest of the vacation follows suit. Matt had to go to work Monday so I took the kids down to the pool. I put swimmies on Shea and threw him in and sat on the edge with Kellan. I stuck my hand down in the water to grab a leaf out of the pool and came back up with a fist full of someone else's hair. Time to go Shea!<br />
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The following day they called us and told us that a bigger suite was open and we could have it. Woo Hoo! We get up there and notice a funky smell. But we can't find where it's coming from. Hmmm... We pull out the sofa bed for Shea and the mattress is so nasty it looks like a hobo donated it and when I got the extra sheets out I noticed a bunch of tiny hairs all over it - like a dog had been sleeping on it, and yes this hotel allows pets.... In the bedroom I saw that one of Matt's T-shirts had fallen between the bed and the nightstand so I grabbed it and out fell a baby's pacifier and a cheese wrapper.... it was not Matt's T-shirt.... and I also found where the smell was coming from. There were two rotten Avacados in the crisper of the fridge. They obviously had not cleaned that room for us. I was fighting tears the whole time we were there - we couldn't go anywhere because of the storm and you'd think that the winds and clouds would bring in cooler temperatures but it was well over 110 degrees the whole time. And do you know how hard it is to keep two toddlers quiet in a hotel room?? I was one "SHUSH!" away from a stroke. We even had someone call our room to complain about the noise. And to top it all off, the storm knocked out the cable so I missed True Blood that week - "EFF this, we are going home".<br />
<br />
Matt and I both came down with whatever this awful snot-sickness was and couldn't do much more than watch the kids re-enact wrestle-mania. One of the days I started feeling weird and had this strange pain in my back. By the time Matt got back from work the pain was wrapped in a band all the way around my torso and it hurt to even breathe. We seriously considered finding an emergency room because I couldn't tell if I was passing a kidney stone or what but it was excruciating and I was pretty scared. But I took some Tylenol and ate a cheeseburger from Five Guys and the pain dissipated. It was the weirdest thing.(Note to self: Five Guys' Cheeseburgers cure death......)<br />
<br />
We decided to cut our trip short but we needed to do ONE thing to make our vacation semi-redeemable. We had bought the kids a bunch of plastic sand castle-building equipment and we'd be damned if they didn't get to use it. So we sucked it up, crammed a fistful of Tylenol into our mouths and headed to the beach. And wouldn't you know it - some country star was putting on a concert on the freaking beach. There was no where to park, and the beach was so crowded we wouldn't have been able to find the sand. Matt had an idea - we drove down into the residential part of the beach, pulled off the side of the road, climbed a small hill and found a beautiful, tranquil white sand beach with very few people on it. There was a couple and their family having a beach wedding, a mother and two kids standing in the water and an elderly married couple holding hands and watching the sun set. It was beautiful - the kids played in the sand and it was the first time all week that we had smiles on our faces. <br />
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We were supposed to stay until Friday, but we tucked tail and came home Wednesday afternoon. And yes, Kellan screamed the whole way home. <br />nicolepiperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678078094646369361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4833853276358984589.post-35490638982102167482012-07-07T11:35:00.001-07:002012-07-07T11:35:09.765-07:00Look what I can do!!Hello, my name is Nicole and I am addicted to Pinterest. No no no, I
don't actually buy any of the clothes or make any of the recipes I pin, I
just electronically hoard cool things that I wish I had/ could make.
But Pinterest has given me a lot of cool ideas - for example, this
little gem I whipped up today. I call it the Family Message Center. <br />
<br />
Here is a little back-story behind the creation of the message center.
Last night we drove Shea to Toys R Us - his birthday is in one week and
we let him pick out a big boy bike.... and somehow we also came home
with a 40.00 Jake and the Neverland Pirates Pirate Ship with actions
figures, but I digress.... It was a 25 minute drive which gave Matt and I
some time to talk. For once the kids weren't screaming and complaining
which almost never happens so this was kind of a big deal. The
conversation was pretty serious and very deep, about how we need to be
better parents.<br />
For one, we swear a lot. It's like an infectious
disease, one of us blurts out a curse word and then we're just a couple
of sailors the whole rest of the day. So we decided to try harder to
quit swearing, especially around the kids.<br />
Secondly, we need to be more careful about what we watch around the kids. We love Vampire Diaries and True Blood and Grey's Anatomy and I could list a lot of others, but those are the main few and we don't wait until the kids go to bed. We are selfish people. We watch them whenever we feel like it. Problem is, our kids see bits and pieces of people swearing, fighting, having sex and biting each other. One day when Shea was about 2 1/2, I sat down to watch True Blood and Shea said, "Oh, is this True Blood? I don't like True Blood, they bite me and smack me in the face and then all my blood falls out onto the ground." ......well then.... lost a couple Mommy points that night.<br />
Third, we decided that we
are too hard on Shea. And the problem is that Shea is not a typical 3
year old. (I know, I know, everyone says that, everyone thinks their kid
is a genius, but mine actually is.) He is very mature for his age and
speaks incredibly well and it's because of this that we are so hard on
him. We hold him to impossibly high standards, forgetting that he is
only 3. He may be speaking to us like he is an adult, but he is not. And
we forget that all the time. So we also decided that we need to remind
each other to be more laid back and let things go, not lose our patience
so much and to try to be better parents in general. Shea and Kellan
deserve that. But then I brought up the fact that this is not the first
time we've had this discussion. We say these same things all the time
and never put them into practice. So here is where my genius idea came
from.<br />
I decided that we needed to make a vision board. Matt and I needed
to sit down together and decide what kind of parents we want to be,
write it down and make it happen. I had seen some people on Pinterest
who made dry erase boards out of picture frames, so I thought I would
utilize that method but turn it into some kind of craft board, where we
could write down our daily or weekly goals and hang it on the wall where
we can see it every day. And maybe if we accomplish our goal, we get a
marble or a ticket to put in a jar and when the jar is full, we can do
something fun as a family, like go to the Aquarium, as a reward for our
hard work. While making the board, I thought I could make it even more
functional if I also designed it to be a message center. There are so
many times during the day that I see something and I think, "Oh! I have
to remember to tell Matt this!" and then I never do. So this is our
Message center:<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />
It cost around 10.00 to make and here is how I did it:<br />
<br />
I bought a poster frame from Target, they come in all different sizes, but this one is 20x30 and it cost 9.99.<br />
<br />
I already had the scrapbook paper and stickers, but if you don't have a stockpile of scrapbook paraphenalia, buy some.<br />
<br />
I cut my scrapbook paper down to 8.5x11 printer paper size, typed in the words in Microsoft word, put the scrapbook paper in the printer and Viola! I trimmed it down even smaller so that it would fit the board. I embellished it with stickers and used a glue stick to attach it all to the cardboard backing of the frame. The front of it is plastic, which works fine with the dry erase markers. I'm guessing that if the marker is left for too long it'll be difficult to wipe off, but we'll jump that hurdle when we get to it.<br />
<br />
I re-assembled the frame and it was done!<br />
<br />
And if you can see the top right of the picture, there is a white box with coral colored trees on it - we hung that from a hook and that's where the markers and eraser go - it has a ribbon for a handle and it was 1.00 at Target. <br /><br />This board is so nice to have and you can leave messages for each other, write nice things to each other or write your personal goal under your name. As you can see, mine says ".... is super cool" but it could (should) say ".... will NOT swear today," or "WILL do yoga today." I love it and fingers crossed it'll help us reach our goals to be a better family and be kinder to each other.nicolepiperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678078094646369361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4833853276358984589.post-75278223213107073532012-07-07T11:05:00.000-07:002012-07-07T11:05:20.700-07:00Welcome to the NEW Occupation:Mom<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl-wrQVXYDzWjAbaxAUZ3WKdxCal7PWIbdthFIhBZ12wZnK4oUYiTWyxGF6YQYvCt3Mlq5XATU87rOl005KHgx3BqcUp8NiyZEixBFRf_jXksUH5lMQ20SHBRcYYUTfa5JWXfCKKK8Clg/s1600/100_2485.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl-wrQVXYDzWjAbaxAUZ3WKdxCal7PWIbdthFIhBZ12wZnK4oUYiTWyxGF6YQYvCt3Mlq5XATU87rOl005KHgx3BqcUp8NiyZEixBFRf_jXksUH5lMQ20SHBRcYYUTfa5JWXfCKKK8Clg/s320/100_2485.jpg" width="320" /></a>As some of you may have noticed, Occupation: Mom was on hiatus for awhile. I wasn't happy with how things were going....The stories I told were funny and true, but it was also a good wake up call for myself. Reading those stories made me realize that I needed to make some changes in my life and in my parenting style. I don't want to be that mom. I don't want my kids to swear and be weirdos in public. It's hilarious, yes, but what are the long term effects of allowing my children to be the fodder for my comedic stories? = future serial killers? I for one, don't want to find out! So my new page will still be Occupation: Mom, it will still be funny and cute, I'll still talk about my kids, but I will focus less on the embarrassing/hilarious and more on the actual things that we do - Homeschooling (I'll post lesson plans, and anecdotes for those who are interested in homeschooling their own kids, or for those who want to laugh at how much smarter Shea is than I am....) Couponing - (I'll brag about how much money I saved, how I did it and how cool I think I am when I score super awesome deals) and other details of our home life - crafts we made, recipes I tried, DIY things we tried around the house - basically a more holistic look at the lives of the Pipers. I hope we make you laugh and think, try some new things, and I hope that you think we are as super awesome as we think we are. Enjoy!nicolepiperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678078094646369361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4833853276358984589.post-44235101456964384402012-01-17T06:19:00.000-08:002012-01-17T06:21:53.000-08:00Do it Yourself – or – Crafts for the Less than Crafty Mom<div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal">Becoming a mom means entering an elite group of women who are more than mere mortals. Most women, certainly not all, gain a new sense of understanding, a new meaning to their lives. They acquire maturity, wisdom and a new beauty from having birthed another human soul. Many new mothers will look around at their peers and find that they don’t fit in with that group anymore. They don’t share the same interests or beliefs as their childless counterparts. Over the course of my 3 ½ years of mommyhood I have met some amazing mothers. Women who exude a maturity beyond their age, who are fierce warriors for their children’s health and safety and women who are like scientists, inventing, recycling and repurposing things to both benefit their families and to reduce their negative impact on the environment. Today I would like to talk about these women…</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">When I became pregnant with my second son I joined a “Due Date Club” on BabyZone where I met some of my best friends. It was a place where I could commiserate with women who were going through the same things I was experiencing at the exact same time. Some of them were first time mothers who I could share my knowledge and experience with, some of them were second timers like me and others still were decorated war vets who were on their third, fourth or more child. One thing that amazed me about some of these girls was their craftiness, their ability to take random everyday objects and create whole new “things” out of them. One girl washes out baby food jars and uses them to store homemade snacks to make them easier to travel with… genius! One of them used cardboard, fabric and ribbon to make a Ribbon Board to hang all the birth announcements and pictures from the rest of the group – Why didn’t I think of that? Oh I know why…. It’s because I lack the Arts and Crafts gene. Day after day I see these girls’ Facebook posts about hair clips they’ve made, baby food recipes they’ve created, things they’ve spun into being and I think, “That’s amazing! Why the hell can’t I do that??” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Well, you’re in for a treat folks. Today I will share with you my collection of homemade crafts/remedies/art and “what-have-you”!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>New List – The Piper Treasury of Do-It-Yourself Crafts for Kids</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">1. Pill Bottle Rattle – how many times has this happened to you? You’re in the car, too far from home to turn back and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Sniff, Sniff</i> , Oh Man! The baby had a blow out. You pull into the nearest parking lot because this cannot wait or you risk passing out at the wheel. You lay baby across the seat, get the diaper half off and baby starts throwing a dead-weight, floppy full-body flail and you are holding onto the diaper for dear life, inches away from having a different colored interior. If only you had something to distract him! You open the diaper and OF COURSE! You forgot to pack toys of any kind. You reach into your purse…. AHA! Most moms have a mini bottle of Tylenol stashed in there – Voila! Instant rattle….. An acceptable answer would also have been – Key-ring Chew Toy….</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">2. Loogie Wipes – You’re out with a friend, let’s say at a park. You give your child some chocolate Teddy Grahams as a snack and he comes running back to you saturated in dirt and chocolate. You reach into your diaper bag – no wipes… figures. Have no fear! This time-tested remedy will have your child sparkling clean in no time! Simply hock a loog into your hand and wipe your kids face. Repeat as necessary. Not only is this fast, easy and free but it’s also good for the environment….</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">3. Remote Control Babysitter – The phone rings and as usual, your child chooses that moment to start freaking out. Simply hand them the remote control to your TV, and insert into their mouth. This will keep them quiet for no less than 2 minutes while Brinks tries to sell you a home security system. What’s that? Installation is free if I sign up for monthly home monitoring at the low monthly cost of $139.00?? SOLD! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">4. Magazine Arts and Crafts – You’re harvesting your crops on Farmville and the baby won’t stop crying because they’re hungry or something… I don’t know… Grab your old copy of Cosmo that you didn’t even read and throw it on the ground beside them. Baby will enjoy minutes of shredding that $6.00 paperweight while you tend to your virtual cows. Just remind them to chew the big pieces before swallowing….</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">5. Tampon Tower – You REALLY need to go to the bathroom and for some reason ALL of your children think that you enjoy having an audience while doing so. Do I have a fun idea for you! Simply open a box of tampons, sprinkle them on the ground and watch the fun ensue. “Mommy what are these?” “Tampons, play with them, they’re fun!” “Ummm….” “They’re like Lincoln Logs, seriously, build a tower with them or something…” “Ummmm…” “Really, I do it all the time…”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">These five crafts ideas are free, simple and fun! Guaranteed to shut your kid up for a few seconds while you play on your iphone or Facebook with your friends. And don’t judge me, you know you’ve done worse! At this point I’m compelled to say that these ideas are said jokingly and I have not in fact consciously allowed my children to do any of these things…. except the Tampon thing, that totally happened. </div>nicolepiperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678078094646369361noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4833853276358984589.post-355961958953746992011-11-21T11:17:00.000-08:002011-11-21T11:17:31.099-08:00What kind of Mom am I?? – or – No organic MSG free soup for you…..<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal">I’ve spent the better part of my life trying to answer THE question. Who am I? I’ve gone through many phases in my life – I tried the Hippie thing, the goth thing, the punk thing…. Flitting from group to group, trying on the costumes, rehearsing my lines – and never really fit 100 percent in any of those guises. Luckily I married a man who allowed me to be myself and in doing so helped me to find myself. I am me. I don’t have a label. I’m not required to furnish my wardrobe from any one store in particular. I don’t have any bumper stickers on my car that show how cool I am or am not because of a band that I do or do not listen to….. I read Twilight and by God I like it and I don’t care who knows it! So now that I have answered that question and am comfortable with the results, I find myself right back in that same place where I feel like I am searching. Searching for a word or a name that will describe me. This new question is “What kind of Mom am I?” Because as many of you know, the mom crowd has cliques. If you squint and look at the pool of “Mom” from just the right angle, it eerily resembles high school…. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">In high school – any high school – there were some “typical” groups of people. Jocks, cheerleaders, preppies, stoners, punks, etc. Well, in Mom world we also find groups that tend to stick close together, subscribe to the same rhetoric and belief-systems and have a nasty habit of looking down upon all the other groups of mom, because clearly, they are not doing it right… The main groups I have stumbled across on my journey into Motherhood are as follows:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">New List – Species of “Mom” and a brief description of their habits/whereabouts…..</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">1.The Green Mom – aka “Cloth Diaper Divas”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 88.8pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 88.8pt;">Commonly seen in Natural Foods stores, Starbucks and local Parks/Playgrounds. Don’t bother looking for them at any Wal Marts or McDonalds……</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 88.8pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 88.8pt;">Frequently heard phrases: “Is there MSG in this?” “Oh no thank you, I think that’s made with BPA.” “Honey, put that down! It was made in China!” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 88.8pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 88.8pt;">This group of mom prides themselves on their ability to make homemade Organic baby food, use cloth diapers thus reducing their and their baby’s carbon footprint, and their collection of wooden toys made in America and containing zero lead paint or man-made chemicals/materials. Their children watch little to no TV, have never heard the words </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 88.8pt;">“Juice Box” and can define the word “Vegan” before they even know how to spell it. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">2. The Working Mom – aka “The Babysitter’s replacement”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span> </span>Commonly seen in an office/workplace or a McDonald’s drivethru. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">Frequently heard phrases: “Well I work and I still have time to…….(insert activity)”. “Oh you’re a stay-at-home mom? So you DON’T work….” “I work…I work…I work….” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in;">This group of mom likes to look down upon moms who choose to stay home with their children, often claiming them to be doing so out of laziness. They are rarely available to help with school functions but are known to whip up a mean store-bought brownie….. They have difficulty remembering their kids’ names but make up for it monetarily with over-blown Christmases and horse riding lessons for the kiddies. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">3. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Smarty-Pants Mom – aka “McSnooty Know-it-all”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in;">Commonly seen at Barnes and Noble, College Campus (though they are usually 10 years older than the other students) and any and all play groups/mom groups/club activities, etc. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in;">Frequently heard phrases: “Hmmm… your doctor told you it was pink eye? Well I would get a second opinion because that looks like cancer to me……” “Oh how cute! Your kid knows his ABC’s! Well my son is already doing long division….” “Oh what am I doing? Just filling out these college applications for my daughter. I know she’s only two but you can never start too early!” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in;">This group of mom is notorious for over-extending their children’s mental capacities. They often have their children in preschool before they are walking and learning a foreign language before they have even mastered their native language. They have their children’s activities planned for months in advance and have a scheduled activity for the child every day of the week. While the child is doing said activity, the mother can often be found mingling with the other mothers and telling them all the things they are doing wrong and the things that their children are behind in doing….</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">4. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Thrifty Mom – aka “Professional Garage-Salers” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in;">Commonly seen at Garage Sales, thrift stores and wal mart, many times carrying large coupon binders. Rarely, but sometimes can be caught stealing coupon inserts from neighbors’ newspapers or haggling checkout clerks for a lower price on a dented can of green beans. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in;">Frequently heard phrases: “How much did you pay for that? Well I got it for….(insert insanely low price). “Did I hear you needed a new blender? Well I have a coupon for that and Kroger will double it and the final sale price ends up being…” “Check this out! Looks real doesn’t it!” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in;">This group of mom is the ultimate penny pincher. They spend hours each week clipping coupons, price hunting, meal planning, garage sale-ing. Anything to save a buck. If you find yourself in one of their homes, be prepared to be paraded around all of their belonging and told detailed stories of how much they paid for it and how they were able to get that price. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">5. The Small Town Mom – aka “A Normal Mom”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span> </span>Commonly seen at Barbecues, high school football games, wal mart.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in;">Frequently heard phrases: “He ate a bug? Oh well, extra fiber.” “Why are these jeans in the wash? You’ve only worn them twice.” “Why are we having corn dogs and ice pops for dinner? Because I’m cleaning out the freezer….”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in;">These moms are the heart of the family. They can cook but are not too proud to slap a pizza down on the table for dinner. Some of them work, some are stay at home moms but they all love their kids to the moon and back and aren’t afraid to exercise a little discipline. They let their kids run around bare foot and play with worms. Their kids first sip of beer is usually from their own can of Bud Light; their first driving lesson on a dirt back road in the family pickup truck. Don’t mess with her kids or you’ll get the Grizzly Bear….</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">6. The Clean Mom – aka “Sani-Sally” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in;">Commonly seen at the Pharmacy and the doctor’s office waiting room. You’ll never find them in a public restroom, a place where more than one or two children congregate at any given time, and they seldom leave their homes during cold/flu season. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in;">Frequently heard phrases: “Did you wash your hands??” “ Here, have some hand sanitizer!” “Oh my god, run to the next aisle, that woman just sneezed!”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in;">These moms have single handedly kept Purell in business. Their homes are sparkling clean and smell oddly like a hospital room. They don’t own pets because animals are filthy creatures. Their children bathe twice a day and are doused in rubbing alcohol every time they encounter another child. Yet oddly enough, their children tend to be sick more often than non-bleach-soaked children…</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And here I find myself, looking at these groups of mothers and wondering where I fit in. I have at times been all of them but can’t seem to subscribe to any of them. My most recent encounter with the “Green” moms ended in Shea outing me as the fraud that I am and being shunned by the Green mom community. I had taken Shea to his weekly gymnastics class (or as we like to call it, Toddler Fight Club). I sat in the viewing room with the other moms and listened intently to their conversation. One mom was telling another mom how her parents send her children unsavory Christmas presents that are laden with carcinogenic materials and autism causing particles so they let their children open them, take a picture with them holding it and then throw them out. I listened in shock – for awhile there I was almost feeling a part of the group, talking about the importance of proper nutrition and the benefits of organic foods. Yeah, yeah – totally. Oragnic rocks! Then the conversation turned to MSGs found in foods and how it’s so important to keep these away from your children. I sat there wide-eyed and nodding – Yes! Yes! That is SO important. Then Shea runs up to me and says, “Can we go get a Happy Meal now?” The other mothers turned and looked at me in horror. Here it was – my moment to sink or swim. Would I pretend not to know what a Happy Meal was and join this group of eco-do-gooders? Or would I show my true Big Mac loving colors, take my kid by the hand and flip these ladies the bird for looking at me like I had just spit in the Green Works? “Come on Shea-Bug, let’s go get your Happy Meal….” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I am a stay-at-home mom so I automatically am shunned by the working mom crowd…. Next!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The Smarty Pants moms…. I am SO this kind of mom. I really try not to be, I know how annoying I must sound when I try to point out other moms’ mis-steps, but I can’t help it!!! Wouldn’t they rather know that they are doing it wrong?? Ok, I refuse to believe that I am THAT bad and I honestly am working on this, so I will discount myself from this group in hopes that I can turn myself around and not be THAT person….</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The thrifty moms… I DO use coupons but I just cannot bring myself to go to a garage sale or walk through the doors of a dollar store. Call me a snob, but I just can’t do it. My heart’s not in it….</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The Small Town moms – this is one that I am proud to say I strive to be. This is the kind of mom that MY mom was and her mom before her… and so on. I have yet to master the art of not caring that my kids are running around with no shoes on and playing with bugs… I’ll work on that one. And I don’t like beer and I’ll be damned if I’m going to be the first one to hop in a car with Shea behind the wheel…hmmm…maybe I don’t fit in this group…..</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The Sani-moms…. I HAVE been guilty of this. I carry a bottle of sanitizer in my purse and one in my car… and one behind the kitchen sink…..and a refill bottle under the sink…. CRAP! Am I THIS mom??? I don’t want to be this mom….this mom is annoying! Is it wrong to have a house that is clean and smells like Lysol? Oh wait! I have a dog so I don’t fit into this group either…whew! That was a close one….</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So you see my dilemma? I don’t really have any one group that I fit into. I’m a little bit of all of these. I like to think that I’m a cool mom… I have tattoos, I play the guitar, my son and I rock out to Lady GaGa while we fold laundry. But “Cool” mom isn’t really a genre… I guess I’ll just continue to do what I’m doing and maybe I’ll find my title along the way. Feel free to leave suggestions of what category you believe me to be, I’ll get a kick out of reading them!</div>nicolepiperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678078094646369361noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4833853276358984589.post-65221464919166937902011-10-24T16:09:00.000-07:002011-10-24T16:09:26.026-07:00Embarrassment –or- My Mother’s Curse<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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I wasn’t the best kid on the planet growing up, then again I wasn’t really the worst. My mom tells me stories all the time about the crazy things I used to do and say. Her favorite is when she dropped me off at the “daycare” in the gym where she worked out and when she came to pick me up, the babysitters said, “We don’t have a Nicole here….” In a full blown panic she looked around and spotted me. “She’s right there,” she said, pointing me out. “No…that’s Alice….” said the babysitter. When my mom asked me why I told them my name was Alice my reply was, “Ya know, like Alice in Wonderland?”…. Duh! Or the time I told my second grade teacher I was sad because my mom and dad had to give my baby brother up for adoption…. and the teacher called her to make sure she was alright….<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yep. I had a very active imagination. And my mom used to say ALL the time, “I can’t wait ‘til you have kids, I hope they’re JUST LIKE YOU!” And not because I was so sweet and awesome. Be careful what you wish for…. <div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Fast forward, oh… to 2008 or so… July to be exact. I was sitting in a hospital room holding my first born, my beautiful son, love of my life, apple of my eye. At the time I had no way of knowing that my mother’s curse would come true and Shea would turn into the witty, sharp tongued, blunt little crazy person that he is and embarrass me ten times more than I ever embarrassed my own mother.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">New List: Top 5 Most Embarrassing moments, courtesy of Shea</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">5. We took the kids to the Atlanta zoo when we first moved down here and Matt took Shea into the petting zoo area. Shea had so much fun feeding the goats and brushing them. It was pretty busy that day, there were a lot of kids and parents in the area and Shea looks out at me and yells, “Hey mom! Where’s the goat’s wiener??”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">4. My parents were visiting from Michigan and they were so excited to see their grandbabies. They spent the whole week playing with them and watching cartoons – doing whatever Shea wanted to do. Grandpa turned on the TV to find a cartoon for Shea and Spongebob was on. “He doesn’t like Spongebob, dad,” I said. “You don’t like Spongebob? Why not buddy? Is it ‘cuz he’s a creeper?” my dad asked. “No, I don’t like him ‘cuz he takes my things and he’s a shit butt.” Welcome to our home, mom and dad!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">3. Shea is enrolled at The Little Gym in a gymnastics class. One day the teacher carried him out, Shea’s face buried in her neck. “Oh did he get hurt?” I asked. “No,” the teacher said, “He says he’s afraid to go home with you because you said there are monsters at your house that will get him if he doesn’t go to sleep.”….yep. I said that. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">2. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were at the car dealership trading my Jeep Liberty for our new super awesome minivan and the manager in the sales department where we were signing the paperwork walked up and handed us the keys to our new mobile diaper bag. Shea pointed at him and said, “Hey! You’re black! Are you black?.... You’re black!” The room fell silent, everyone just stared, and my husband blurts out, “I’m sorry, we’re from Michigan…..” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And the all time most embarrassing moment is:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">1. When my husband spent a couple days in the hospital for a heart condition, the doctors were taking so long to see him that the hospital social worker got involved. He came into the room to assure us that he was on the case and would be doing everything in his power to get a doctor into that room in the next couple of hours. Shea ran up to him and showed him an ouchie on his arm and the social worker asked, “Oh no! How’d you do that?” and Shea answered, “I was dicking around…..” I quickly spat out, “Dinking around. Ha ha ha, he said he was dinking around!”… He didn’t say dinking….</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">…and the kid is only three years old. I can’t wait to see what he has in store for me next! But Shea just wouldn’t be Shea if he didn’t do and say these things. The kid has so much charisma its exhausting! And one thing is for sure, he’ll keep embarrassing me and I’ll keep writing about it. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br />
</span></div>nicolepiperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678078094646369361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4833853276358984589.post-43842926307656267202011-07-26T11:36:00.001-07:002011-07-26T11:36:48.687-07:00Interview with a Shea-Bug<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">So Shea, I hear you had a birthday last week? How old are you now?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">14.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">14?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Yes.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Are you sure you’re not three?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Oh yes, I’m 3! I’m 3</i>.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Ok, that’s what I thought. Did you have a nice birthday?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Yyyyyyyes. Is it my birthday yet?</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Your birthday was last week remember?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Where is it? Is it in the living room?</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Your birthday is a day. It’s not a thing. What did you do on your birthday?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I played with my house and my mote-control racecar.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Cool, what else did you do?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ummmm… played with my grandma and grandpa…. And all my aunts and uncles, in Jesus’ name, Amen.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Do you like being 3?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Yes.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Why?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Because I love my toys and I love going out in the world and telling (unitelligable…….) and don’t bite your friends. Don’t bite your friends, got it!</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Do you love your brother?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Yes, because I chased someone. I chased Osgood.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Huh??? </div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I love Kellan because I love the world.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Ok. What’s your favorite game?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Rango. </i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Rangos a movie.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Oh, I love the running game and jumping game.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Ok. What’s your favorite food?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ummm. Peas.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Peas??</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Yes, that’s good.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">What else do you like to eat?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Green beans and oranges.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">At the same time?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Yeah.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">What’s your favorite movie?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Rango.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Why do you like Rango?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Cuz he’s a lizard and snakes are snakes. </i></div><div class="MsoNormal">What’s your favorite color.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ohhhhh, green. My favorite color is green.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Why do you like green?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Because it’s my favorite color, mom!</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">What do you like that is green?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A crayon. </i></div><div class="MsoNormal">So have you been a good boy lately?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">No and Yes. I mean Yes.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">What happens when you’re not a good boy?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I’m a bad boy.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">When are you a bad boy?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Because I’ve been saying naughty words.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">You say naughty words?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Yes. That’s what I said.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Why do you say naughty words.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Because I go to time out</i>.</div><div class="MsoNormal">What’s your favorite naughty word?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Suck it up! That’s a bad word.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">That’s not really a bad word – it’s just not nice for you to say that to mommy or daddy.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Oh, you say it to kids.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Some people say that. It just means “be a big boy.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Why?</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">I don’t know….</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">If you don’t know (unintelligible)</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">What?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What?</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Moving on…. What Tv shows do you like?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ummm…Toy Story. But not with Zurg. He’s a bad guy.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Ok, What TV show don’t you like?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Bad guys. I don’t like them.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Fair enough. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Fair.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Did you go to gymnastics today?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">For a little bit.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">What did you do at gymnastics.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Played inside. And they we drive home with the burgers.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">So you had a Happy Meal for lunch?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Yes. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s my favorite food.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">What do you want to be for Halloween?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ummmmm. A<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>turtle.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">You were a turtle last year. Do you want to be something different.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I want to be another turtle.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Ok, I’m all about recycling costumes. What should Kellan be?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A turtle.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">What can mommy be?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">You can be a candle.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Sweet, what can daddy be?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Daddy can be a frog!</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">So two turtles, a frog and a candle?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Yeah! That’s what I want!</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Why am I a candle?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Because it’s for Trick or Treat. You can be a scarecrow. I can be a scarecrow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll be a nice scarecrow! Can I be a nice scarecrow, mom?</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Sure.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Oh goody goody! </i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Well it was nice talking to you Shea.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Yeah.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">See ya.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Where are you going? </i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Nowhere I’m just ending the post.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Oh…why?</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Because it’s over.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Uh…Can I watch TV?</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Sure…..</div>nicolepiperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678078094646369361noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4833853276358984589.post-13716184745816014342011-07-03T05:28:00.001-07:002011-07-03T05:28:40.228-07:00Potty Mouth – or – I am a terrible person….<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">*Disclaimer: If you are offended by swearing, stop reading now….*</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I will never forget the day my sweet little angel muttered his first word. Actually it was more than one word, his first utterance was actually a phrase. I had placed Shea on the changing table to change his diaper and he looked up at a picture on the wall, looked me square in the eyes and said, “Mama, what’s that?” I was speechless – <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">my kid is a genius! </i>I thought, swelling with pride. And he has not stopped talking since; Shea is a genuine motor-mouth. Anyone who has met him will tell you that this kid speaks well beyond his age level and has a vocabulary to rival any six year old. This is not always a good thing, however, when said child has two parents who are chronic potty-mouths.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not sure why or where it came from as neither Matt nor I were raised in homes where swearing was acceptable. In my home, circa age 12 or so, I can remember testing a swear word or two, quietly uttering something and then quickly looking at my dad to see if he heard me. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Yep! Oh Shit!</i> His eyebrows would raise and he would start to get “cop-face” (yes, my dad is a cop) and then I would fly as fast as I could to my room before I got my butt “whooped”. (At this point I would like to point out that my parents never actually “whooped” me, but were known to dole out some pretty lengthy “groundings.”) And perhaps that’s the reason why we can’t speak a full sentence without throwing in a cuss word. It was so taboo growing up that when we were out on our own, it became a free-for-all. Whatever the reason, we can’t seem to clean up our language and have thus passed this affliction on to our child, who has now had some pretty famous quotes posted on facebook, which I will kindly share with you here.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">New List: Shea’s naughty quotes</span></div><h6 style="background: white;"></h6><h6 style="background: white;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">1. </span><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Shea: Mom! I just saw a fuckin' bird outside! Me: WHAT??? Shea: I saw a fuckin' bird! Me: Shea! That is a naughty word, you don't say that! Shea: Oh...Mom I saw a fricken' bird....</span></span></h6><h6 style="background: white;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"></span></h6><h6 style="background: white;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #333333;">2. Shea: Daddy what are you doing? Matt: I’m going to clean up the dog poop so you can play outside. Shea: Oh, Mommy! Daddy’s going to clean up the dog shit. Matt: Shea! We don’t say that we say dog poop. Shea: No, we say dog shit. Matt: No.We.Don’t. That’s a naughty word. We say poop. Shea: No, poop is a bad word, we say shit.</span></span></h6><h6 style="background: white;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"></span></h6><h6 style="background: white;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #333333;">3. Shea is in his room beating his toy phone with a toy golf club. Me: Shea, what are you doing? Shea: I’m trying to turn this fucking phone off…</span></span></h6><h6 style="background: white;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"></span></h6><h6 style="background: white;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #333333;">4. Matt: Shea look, it’s raining. Look at those clouds! Shea: Oh! Can we play outside. Matt: No, not when it’s storming. (Thunder clap) <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shea: What the fuck?!</span></span></h6><h6 style="background: white;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"></span></h6><h6 style="background: white;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #333333;">5. Matt and I joking around. Me: (laughing) Stop being an asshole! Shea: Yeah dad, stop being an asshole!</span></span></h6><h6 style="background: white;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"></span></h6><h6 style="background: white;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #333333;">6. Shea stubbed his toe on the wall: Son of the bitch! (this one is Grandma Tammy’s fault! That’s her most used phrase!)</span></span></h6><h6 style="background: white;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"></span></h6><h6 style="background: white;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #333333;">7. Shea: (Throws a stack of legos across the room) Suck it you fucking rocket ship!!</span></span></h6><h6 style="background: white;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN;"></span></h6><h6 style="background: white;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Tahoma", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #333333;">I know, it’s horrible. We are horrible parents and we deserve to go to mommy and daddy jail for the monstrosity that is the foul mouthed little boy we have created. It started innocently enough, we swore around him thinking he was too young to understand what we were even saying, not knowing that he was absorbing EVERYTHING! We honestly are trying to fix things, we really are, but once your child starts swearing it’s downhill from there. Telling him that these are naughty words isn’t enough. We’ve even started putting ourselves in time out when we say a swear word in front of him, so he can see the consequences of using foul language, but it’s a hard habit to break. I’m already dreading the phone call from his future preschool teacher; the day we get called into the office to discuss Shea’s inappropriate language at school. And it’ll be our fault. Our child will be punished at school for something WE did to him. God, I’m upset already and it hasn’t even happened yet. I honestly do wish I could rewind a year or so and watch my mouth around him. But that’s the thing with kids, you can’t rewind. You can’t have any do-overs so take my advice and do it right the first time. Love them all you can, get in as much snuggle time as possible because they DO grow up and you better believe they listen to every word you say, even if you think they are ignoring you. </span></span></h6>nicolepiperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678078094646369361noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4833853276358984589.post-11426599623114836942011-06-20T16:26:00.003-07:002011-06-23T07:17:36.140-07:00The first rule of Toddler fight club…..When I was pregnant with Shea and before I knew whether I was having a boy or a girl, my former boss at Plush Puppy Pet Grooming and I were talking about having kids in general. She said, “I hope you have a girl. Girls are so easy. With boys you have to worry about them killing themselves.” At the time I thought, <em>What a weird thing for her to say. Are all boys suicidal? I must have missed something in health class about that….</em> It wasn’t until I had Shea and he got a little older that I realized she didn’t mean suicide, she meant the dangerous and klutzy things that all boys do on a daily basis.<br />
From the moment Shea took his first steps I knew we were in trouble. This kid literally cannot go a day without hurting himself. Our record for emergency room visits is twice in two weeks, both for open bleeding head wounds. I’m honestly shocked that we’ve gone almost three years now without stitches – he always manages to shred himself in places that they can’t stitch.<br />
New List: Shea’s Injuries –or- Evidence for when Child Protective Services is called<br />
1. Dent – forehead, tripped on carpet and hit outward corner of wall<br />
2. Gash – nose, walking holding a sharp stick, tripped on own feet<br />
3. Gash – nose, pulled flower pot off bookshelf, hit self in face<br />
4. Dent – eyebrow, tripped on daddy’s big feet and hit end table<br />
5. Open Head Wound – scalp, spinning around, fell and hit head on broken off knob to drawer<br />
6. Open Head Wound – forehead, upset by being disciplined, literally threw self off of bed and hit nightstand<br />
7. Bruise – toe, being chased by dad, kicked wall, may lose toenail<br />
8. Gash – finger, dad closed hand in back door<br />
9. Dent – Forehead, tripped on own feet, hit head on doorstep of grandparents house<br />
10. Gash – Forehead, tripped on crack in concrete, bounced head off of said concrete (this one actually almost made me puke because when his head hit the concrete it sounded like someone smashing a pumpkin or watermelon… surprisingly did not bleed that badly…)<br />
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Add to this list countless other bruises, dents, gashes and ouchies……<br />
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As a mother and as a first-time mother at that, the first couple of times this happened I bawled my eyes out, but now when I hear the tell-tale “thunk” followed by the “Ahhhhhhh!!!!!” I sigh and roll my eyes, casually stroll over to assess the damage, ask him if he wants to go the hospital, which is almost always a “No…” and then follow up with a pat on the head and a kiss on the ouchie. I’m trying to raise men here, not cry-babies…<br />
That is not to say I am not embarrassed when I take my children out in public and they look like they’ve just escaped the Lost Ark. We go to the park sometimes and see these little girls, wearing their glittery pinks and purples complete with Hannah Montana purses and Posh Spice pedicures and here comes my kid, his glasses are crooked from smashing his face into the ground, shirt is stretched out, pants barely fit and he looks like he just got done with toddler fight club – dripping blood from a recent spill and covered in bruises in myriad stages of healing, a rainbow of browns, greens and purples…. I am just waiting for that one time that the doctor, or checkout girl at the grocery store calls CPS and I am put under suspicion of child abuse. Let me state for the record – I DO NOT beat my kid. He does that well enough himself! And most parents would understand that boys are boys, and they rarely present unblemished, however my son likes to embellish the truth….<br />
After one of the listed incidents, let’s see…. Ah yes, number 6, we went to the ER, certain that this would go down in history as Shea’s first stitches. However, due to the triangular shape of the wound, they suggested we let it heal naturally and sent us on our way, with a 950.00 hospital bill for some soap and a band aid… The next day I had an OB appointment and my doctor looked at Shea and said, “Oh honey, what happened to your head?” and Shea looked up at her with big blue watery eyes and said, “Daddy spanked me….” Silence…. Matt and I quickly looked at each other, both with the same stunned, “What the f…..” expression and quickly babbled random sentence fragments to try to save some face and keep ourselves out of jail. What had actually happened was Shea had done something, I can’t remember what, probably hit one of us or did something naughty, so Matt set him on our bed to try to talk to him about what he had done and Shea, in his glorious rage, threw himself off the bed and hit his forehead on the corner of the nightstand leaving quite a nice hole in his head.<br />
Let me sidetrack a moment and relay the story of what happened in the ER that night…. Shea was close to two and a half, it was around Christmas time because I remember there being reindeer stickers on the windows in the ER. Matt brought Shea into the living room and Shea was crying, Matt was rolling his eyes and saying, “He hit his again throwing a fit….” “MATT!!” I yelled. “What?” he said, puzzled. Matt was holding Shea outward and wasn’t seeing what I was seeing. He saw a toddler throwing a fit, I saw the toddler throwing a fit with a waterfall of blood gushing out of his forehead. Matt turned Shea around and said, “Oh shit!” and we ran to the kitchen. I pressed a towel to his head and tried to kiss some tears away. I lifted the towel to see if the bleeding had slowed down and to assess the damage and almost vomited on Shea – There was a deep hole in his head and I swear I saw skull…. I yelled, “Matt get the car, we’re going to the hospital.” Matt scoffed at me, sauntered over and said, “Nicole, you’re overreacting, there’s no way you can see skull.” He looked at the hole for what seemed like several minutes, quietly grabbed the keys and went to get the car.<br />
I sat in the back seat holding Shea on my lap and telling him we were going to go see the doctor. “NO! I’m ok, I feel better…” Shea said. Shea happens to be terrified of doctors, band aids and hospitals…. “Honey, you have ketchup on your head and we need the doctor to clean it up ok?” (At this point, blood was ketchup in the Piper house….) “NOOOOOOO!!!!” And as he screamed the blood started pouring again from his head. “Shea, they are just going to look at it and then they’ll give you a sticker, ok?” <em>I’m listening</em>, his face seemed to say. “And you’ll get a sucker and mommy will buy you a present, ok?” He agreed to my terms just as we pulled into the hospital parking lot. Of course everyone and their cousin was in the Hillsdale Hospital ER that night and we were last in line behind everyone with a scratchy throat and a paper cut. You’d think that a toddler gushing blood from his head would take priority, but you’d be wrong… My grievances with Hillsdale Hospital is another story I will not get into now…. Anyway, the registration nurse came over and asked what was wrong. <em>Hmmm… I’m holding a bloody towel to my kids head, he has a tummy ache</em>. “He has a hole in his head,” I said nonchalantly. To which the nurse’s eyes got really wide and my kid started freaking out…. In retrospect I should have worded that differently… oh well. The nurse asked me to move the towel so she could see it and Shea started screaming, “NOOOOOO!!!! There’s no ketchup! There’s no ketchup!” Everyone in the ER started cracking up, Shea was so nervous his eyes were the size of dinner plates and he was vibrating. The nurse was really good with him though and gave him some stickers and eventually won his trust. When we finally went into the treatment room there wasn’t much to be done. The bleeding had stopped so they cleaned it really well and showed us that because of the odd shape they couldn’t stitch it, in fact there wasn’t any skin to stitch, the nightstand had actually gouged out the skin in a deep upside down pyramid shape. So they put a band aid on his head and sent us home…. Long story to get back to where we started…. Fast forward to the OB office….<br />
Matt and I are babbling about the nightstand and the fit throwing and thank God my doctor had had two boys and she was very understanding. But what the hell? My kid just told my doctor that we hit him and that’s how he got his head wound!? Not cool. And that wouldn’t be the first or last time my kid threw me under the bus. One night while spending the night with my parents, he told them “Mommy hurts me.” My dad said, “Oh yeah?” and Shea said, “Yep. She slaps my legs like this…” and started hitting himself in the thighs. My parents asked me about it and I was stunned. It was funny and SO not funny at the same time. Why would he say those things???<br />
Long story short, boys are so clumsy and as a parent and a mother of boys you have to have a strong stomach, keep a well stocked first aid kit and know the shortest route to the hospital.<br />
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<div class="photo photo_none"><div class="photo_img"></div></div>nicolepiperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678078094646369361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4833853276358984589.post-37611650304787048732011-06-20T16:26:00.001-07:002011-06-23T07:18:24.449-07:00New List: Shit my kid has ruined.......<div class="mbl notesBlogText clearfix"><div> Any parent will tell you that if your house is quiet, it's not time to relax, it's time to panic because that means your kid is decimating something expensive or irreplacable. There's a website dedicated to this, called "Shit my kid has ruined" where parents can send in pictures of things their kids have destroyed, it's very funny. As I do not have pictures to contribute I thought I'd just make a little list here of things Shea has ruined forever:<br />
1. Couch - he has peed on the couch several times, but the cushions are machine washable so that's no biggie, but one time he burrowed behind the cushions and after a few minutes I realized he was being very still and quiet. I thought maybe he had fallen asleep back there...nope, he was drawing pictures on the inside of the couch with a black ink pen.<br />
2. Laptop Computer - Matt left his laptop on the floor while it was charging, left the room for a minute to get something to drink and when he came back Shea had picked all of the letter keys off of the keyboard. About 3/4 of the keys were completely OFF and he couldn't get them to go back on again. One laptop - completely useless now.<br />
3. Brand new Cell Phone - Matt's cell phone got ruined from being outside and having lots of sand and dirt in it so he went online and ordered a new phone. It was 80.00 and supposed to be more durable than the last one, including a new feature: Water Proof. It came in the mail and Matt opened it and activated it, set it on the counter and turned to open the rest of the mail. I walked into the kitchen and asked to see his new phone but it wasn't where he had set it. We turned around to sit it sitting in the bottom of Shea's water table that he got for Christmas, and yes, it was full of water at the time. New phone + 5 minutes with a sneaky 1 1/2 year old= destroyed phone? Nope - it really was waterproof, but if it hadn't been....<br />
4. Irreplacable pictures from when I was a baby - I had taken a few pictures from my parents house of me when I was a baby and put them neatly in a scrapbook that I had spent a lot of time decorating. One day I caught Shea pouring water into said scrapbook. Most of it was fine, except for one page with pictures of me and mom that there are no copies of and no negatives... :(<br />
5. Kodak Printer - I opened the paper tray of the printer one day so I could print something only to have 20 or so hotwheels cars fall out of it. The printer was then broken for several months until a whole day of messing with it fixed the problem.<br />
6. Ipod touch - Caught Shea chewing on the actual ipod. = cracked screen, but still usable.<br />
7. Several dishes - when a two year old wants to find out what wil happen if he throws a glass bowl onto a tile floor, there is much fun to be had.... NOT!<br />
8. 75.00 floor lamp - Matt and I lived in Japan for a year and when we came back we wanted to decorate our apartment "Japanese" style. We bought a floor lamp that is black, wooden and has a paper "lantern" looking square top - it's very "Japanese-y". Caught Shea coloring the paper lantern part with orange and green non-washable crayons....we DID tell him he was only allowed to color on paper....<br />
9. Sterling Silver airplane piggy bank - a gift from my dad's aunt and uncle for Shea. Hmm...guess what happens when you bang it on the floor repeatedly? One of the "legs" falls off....<br />
There are so many more things he has broken - a ceramic dog dish, a couple necklaces, souvenirs from Japan, clothes, the list goes on and on and on.... my advice - hide the nice things you have and don't buy any "new" nice things until they are out of the house.....!!!!!</div></div>nicolepiperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678078094646369361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4833853276358984589.post-15459853520448875622011-06-20T16:25:00.001-07:002011-06-20T16:25:13.743-07:00The dreaded Norovirus – or – Being Sick vs. Being “Mom” – sick<div class="mbl notesBlogText clearfix"><div>…Because there <em>is</em> a difference. And any mom will tell you – we are fricken’ superwomen. A mom can get up in the morning, make breakfast, dress the kids, send the husband off to work, clean the house, do the laundry and whatever else needs to be done while at the same time, be dying from whatever super bug happens to be going around at the time. I know, because I’ve done it!<br />
When I was younger, if I got sick, even if it was just your run-of-the-mill common cold, I would stay home in bed, or parked on the couch in my pajamas watching “The Price is Right” while eating my chicken noodle soup and nursing a hot mug of Thera-Flu. Not anymore. I’m a mom now… Mom’s come last, didn’t you know? If the husband is sick, he stays in bed, tossing and turning and moaning and whining – he gets sympathy. The wife takes care of him, brings him medicine, takes care of the kids by herself. If the kids get sick, mom is the one who cleans up the barf, takes the temperatures, tucks them in bed and funnels fluids down their throats. But who takes care of mom when she’s sick? Mom…that’s who. Mom takes care of herself and EVERYTHING and EVERYONE else, all at the same time.<br />
In November of 2010, I was six months pregnant with Kellan and Shea was about two and a half years old. Matt was in Maine for work, he had been there for over a month and we had no idea when he would be home. We weren’t even sure if he’d make it home for Thanksgiving. (a little back story on Matt – at the time he was travelling the country, digging up unexploded ordinance. His job at the Coldwater newspaper wasn’t paying the bills so he took a major leap into a completely different job field. The paychecks were a lot better, but this meant he wasn’t home much at all). My parents were a life saver. They really helped me a lot with Shea; I was practically a single mother at that point, with Matt gone so much, and on top of it, pregnant… life wasn’t exactly easy for me. One weekend, my dad’s uncle was having his 90-something birthday party and they invited Shea and I to go along. We went, had cake and home-made ice cream and Shea got to play with a ton of other little kids. I was doted on and lots of hands were rubbed over my very pregnant belly. That night we went back to my parents’ house where my mom had a pot roast waiting in the oven and I ate my butt off. I had a mountain of food on my plate, we’re talking rolls, potatoes, green beans and a hunk of meat that would for sure be settling on my ever-growing hips the next day. My plate was fuller than my dad’s, and that’s saying something!<br />
We stayed for a little while and when it started getting dark, Shea and I headed home. As soon as we walked in the door my stomach started to hurt. <em>God, I ate way too much</em>, I thought. So I grabbed a Vernors and put on my Sea Bands (motion sickness bracelets that are supposed to help relieve morning sickness and nausea in general) and we went to bed. I kind of tossed and turned for awhile but then I started sweated and feeling very very queasy. I didn’t even make it to the bathroom. I grabbed the garbage can that we keep near the bed and hurled my guts up. Everything I had eaten that day, heave after heave after heave. I couldn’t breathe. I ran to the bathroom holding the bucket and kept puking, and puking and puking. I had never vomited so much in my life. And the whole time I was thinking, “<em>Oh my God! My mom food-poisoned me!!” </em>I probably threw up for another couple of hours, didn’t sleep at all and the whole time I was waiting for Shea to start throwing up too, because he had eaten the same food. And I was just waiting for 7:00am so I could call my parents and see if they had been food-poisoned too. I was going to bitch my mom out for this!<br />
As soon as it was daylight I texted her, “r u guys feeling alright? Cuz I’m not!! been throwing up all night.” And she texted back, “I’m fine, but ur dad was throwing up all night 2! must b the stomach flu, what? Did u think I gave u food poisoning??” Hmm…the plot thickens… How could only two of us have been food poisoned? Mom was right, it had to be a “bug”. Mom said she would try to find time to leave work and bring me some Gatorade and to just relax and stay in bed. Yeah right! I have a two year old and that two year old… is SHEA! How am I supposed to stay in bed and rest, this kid bounces off the walls every moment he’s awake. But I did. Cuz I’m a mom. There wasn’t anyone there to take care of me. Matt couldn’t come home, dad was puking too, mom was working, my in-laws were in Florida, my mother-in-law was in Kalamazoo, my sister-in-law was working, my siblings were not in town – there was literally NO ONE to take care of me. I had to do this myself and take care of Shea too. I laid in bed for a while because Shea was still asleep. At one point I heard my back door open, the dog barked, and my mom’s voice said, “SHHH! Shut up you stupid dog!” and I thought she’d come in and check on me, like she used to when I was little, but instead I hear something “thud” down on the table and then squealing tires back down the driveway. She had put the Gatorade out for me and gotten the hell out of Dodge before she caught whatever stomach bug I had. Who could blame her? Shea woke up just then and we went about our day. I fed him and changed his diaper making sure my bucket was close by. And I told Shea, “Mommy is sick, we need to relax today,” but that fell on deaf ears.<br />
That afternoon my mom called and told me that 19 other people who had been at that birthday party had been throwing up that night and one of them went and was tested, which came back positive for Norovirus. The worst part of it all was that I was <em>PREGNANT!</em> while all this was happening. But I lived through it and I feel like I could do anything now!<br />
<strong>New List: Things I’m not scared to do anymore, now that I’m a mom….</strong><br />
<strong>1. throw up</strong><br />
<strong>2. kill spiders</strong><br />
<strong>3. hold a child’s vomit in my bare hand</strong><br />
<strong>4. pick someone else’s booger (just my kids’, not anyone else, still working on that)</strong><br />
<strong>5. go to the gynecologist – they’ve literally seen my insides, there’s nothing more to hide or be embarrassed about</strong><br />
<strong>6. kill snakes – no wait, I’m totally still scared of snakes ,that one’s not going away</strong><br />
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In conclusion, mom’s rock. Simple enough. You have to grow some thick skin when you become a mom or you’ll never survive motherhood.</div></div>nicolepiperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678078094646369361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4833853276358984589.post-27106727396845690222011-06-20T16:24:00.002-07:002011-06-23T07:22:16.187-07:00Wieners – or – Raising Boys, A whole different animal….<div><br />
Before I had kids, but while we were trying to get pregnant (there wasn’t really any trying, one day we were like, “Hey let’s have a baby!” and the next day I was pregnant) I had this picture in my head of long haired little girls with pink dresses and Barbie dolls…. What I got was two little boys who eat dirt, laugh when they fart and can’t keep their hands out of their pants. I say, “they” even though Kellan is only three months old and hasn’t actually done any of those things yet, I am simply predicting the future…<br />
If you don’t have kids, or if you only have girls, or if your baby boy is still a precious little infant, than you may not know, but let me break it to you – little boys are OBSESSED with their wieners. I cannot even count how many times a day I yell, “Shea! Get your hand out of your pants!” It’s ridiculous. I’m beginning to think he has a mental problem. (Future Shea, I am so sorry if this embarrasses you, please forgive me, it’s just good material….)<br />
<strong>New List: Inappropriate places Shea has played with his wiener:</strong><br />
1. Walmart – while sitting in the shopping cart. Me: SHEA! What are you doing?? Shea: (as loud as he can yell) IT’S MY WIENER!!!!<br />
2. At the Eye Dr. – while sitting in the exam chair, DURING the actual eye exam. Thank God the doctor was looking closely at his eyes and didn’t notice Matt swatting Shea’s hand away from his “junk.”<br />
Ok, those are the only two places I can think of that this has happened, but I’m sure there are more. I have probably blocked them from my memory.<br />
The day we had Kellan, the pediatrician came to the hospital to examine our new little bundle of joy and Matt said, “Um, hey… we’ve got a two year old who will NOT leave his wiener alone…..” Dr.: Oh yeah, that’s normal. Matt: Really? Cuz it’s like… ALL the time… Dr.: Totally normal. Matt: Ok, so like, he’ll grow out of it…or….? Dr.: (laughs) Oh, no. No. They just get better at hiding it….<br />
I’ve even tried compromising with him. I’ve accepted the fact that it’s going to happen so one day I sat Shea down and said, “It’s ok to touch your wiener, but you have to do it in your room or in the bathroom. You don’t do that in front of people. Understand?” He said, yeah, he understood… That night, Shea got up from playing and headed toward the bathroom. Matt: Hey Buddy, do you need to go potty? Shea: Nope, I need to go play with my wiener…. <em>Oy vey</em>… But he continues to stand in the middle of the living room and watch cartoons while “exploring” himself. What’s a mom to do? I’m afraid to send him to preschool for fear of the inevitable phone call from the teacher that my son is being “inappropriate” at school.<br />
While we were in the process of moving to Atlanta, the boys and I stayed with my parents for a month while I was healing from childbirth. One night, my mom had finished giving Shea a bath and sent him out into the living room in just a towel. He dropped the towel, jumped up onto the couch next to my dad and started dancing around singing, “Look at my wiener, look at my wiener!” I thought my dad was going to have a heart attack. He was both laughing and horrified at the same time. He covered his eyes and pleaded with Shea to get dressed. Shea then started bouncing on the ottoman singing, “Do the… wiener dance! Do the…wiener dance,” to the tune of the Huggies “Potty Dance.”<br />
And this wiener wonderland extends beyond himself. He’s been known to ask people if <em>their</em> wieners are ok. One day he asked <em>ME</em>, “Mom, is your wiener ok?” Me: I don’t have a wiener, I’m a girl. Shea: oh…. You have an….inside? Me: (<em>what the f…….? Where did he “invent” this knowledge</em>) Don’t worry about it Shea, that’s not a nice thing to ask someone. Shea: Oh, sorry. Are your boobs ok? Me: *sigh* yes, Shea, they’re fine. Thanks for asking.<br />
I don’t know what to do. How do you teach a child what’s appropriate and what’s not? I’ve become a broken record <em>saying</em> it to him and it doesn’t seem to be sinking in. I don’t want him to grow up with “issues”, you know? I think it’s our fault, mine and Matt’s. I read in one of those baby books that when you change the baby’s diaper, DO NOT make a face or gag or say “that’s disgusting” or the baby will grow up to have psychological damage and think that their “privates” are dirty and disgusting. So I told Matt this exclusive information and whenever we would change his diaper, no matter how nuclear-explosive or vomit inducing it was, we would smile and say, “Yay! Good poop!” Must have been reverse psychology and we instilled in him a psychological “bonus,” if you will, that his “privates” were unequivocally awesome. Major back fire.<br />
Shea will one day do as the doctor predicted and become a master of deception with his wiener “endeavors.” And one day he will know that I wrote this and posted it online for the whole world to see and he will hate my guts, but come on, when you are a mom to boys, you just have to laugh at stuff like this or it’ll give you a stroke.</div>nicolepiperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678078094646369361noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4833853276358984589.post-88484546992729471682011-06-20T16:24:00.000-07:002011-06-23T07:24:06.808-07:00By Popular Demand: List of things I now do with a boob hanging out....This one is dedicated to all my BZ Feb. 2011 Due Date Club friends - and to breastfeeding mom's everywhere... GO BOOBS!<br />
Things I now do with a boob hanging out:<br />
1. Balance the check book<br />
2. Play Farmville<br />
3. Watch American Idol<br />
4. Talk to Verizon Customer Service Representatives<br />
5. Shop Online<br />
6. Read a book<br />
7. Play Toy Story or some other game with older child<br />
8. Drink Coffee<br />
9. Eat Breakfast<br />
10. Eat Lunch<br />
11. Eat Dinner<br />
12. Play Rock Band - Vocals only<br />
13. Sleep<br />
14. "People-watch" in the Wal Mart parking lot from the back seat of the Jeep - don't ask....<br />
15. Sit outside and enjoy the nice sunny day... covered, of course<br />
Feel free to add to this list any funny/crazy things you've done while simultaneously breastfeeding your baby!nicolepiperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678078094646369361noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4833853276358984589.post-7926220479221653712011-06-20T16:23:00.000-07:002011-06-23T07:30:01.028-07:00Peach Puke Fest 2009 – or – The Amazing Stomach of a Toddler<div class="mbl notesBlogText clearfix"><div><br />
The things I let my children eat. If the “me” from three years ago saw what was kept in my cupboards today she would die of a heart attack. Let’s back this story up a couple years, say…oh, 2008, the year Shea was born. Back then I was a little more idealistic, a little self-righteous and convinced that I was THE most knowledgeable mother on the planet when it came to babies and their diets. Shea was exclusively breast fed for the first few months of his life. When we started supplementing formula we bought the top of the line “almost exactly, kind of like breast milk” formula and he continued to breast feed until he was almost two years old. When it was time to start solids, about 6 months old, nothing passed my baby’s lips unless is was certified Organic, no dyes, no preservatives, no MSGs, all-natural, grain-fed, free range, hoity-toity, stick your nose up in the air, snooty and THE BEST, money could buy. If the me today, could meet the me from back then, she would slap her and laugh…<br />
One of these SUPER foods was Earth’s Best Organics, pureed peaches. I thought it sounded awesome, and who doesn’t like peaches? Well, ask that to my 7 month old who projectile vomited them across the living room. <em>That’s weird</em>, I thought. Up to that point he had never in his life thrown up. He never even spat up when he was a newborn. The next day, following the “three days in a row” rule for detecting food allergies (give me a break, how has the human race survived this long?) I fed it to him again. This time, all seemed ok so we put him in his car seat and headed into town. Half way to the grocery store we heard, “Bluuuuuuuuh, YACK!!!!” He had projectile vomited all over himself, the car seat is a puddle of peach puke and Matt and I just look at each other, horrified. <em>What do we do</em>??? We ended up going to my parent’s house to hose out the car seat, air out the Jeep and enjoy a little pool time… Let’s not waste the afternoon because of a little puke, right? Day three, I am thinking we should ditch the peaches, this just isn’t working out. A call to the pediatrician calms me down a bit, the doctor doesn’t suspect an allergy, he just thinks Shea is not a fan of peaches. Try again in a few months.<br />
Fast forward – Shea is older now, walking and talking. We go to my grandparents’ house who happen to have a peach tree. Grandpa Holland picks a ripe peach and helps Shea eat it. Shea is inhaling this peach and saying “<em>mmmmmm</em>” in between gulps. <em>Hmmm, ok, he likes peaches now</em>. A few hours later, after we are home, “Bluuuuuuuuh, YACK!” Peach puke on the carpet….. Ok, no more peaches for Shea, ever…..<br />
But back on track, I think all mothers start out like I did. You want the best for your baby, but eating that way is just not practical. Eating Organic all the time IS ideal, but that’s not the world we live in. America today is the Mecca of processed factory-made chemical packed food products. And I think raising your children on a strict Organic diet is setting them up for an embarrassing moment of shitting their pants in front of their friends the first time they go out alone and eat McDonalds. You have to give a little.<br />
<br />
<strong>New List: Disgusting and/or appalling things my kid has eaten….</strong><br />
<br />
1. I’m folding laundry and Shea (age 2 at the time) comes up to me eating something. Me: What’s in your mouth Shea? Shea: I don’t know. Me: Spit it out!!! Upon examination it is a piece of fish stick. <em>When did we have Fish sticks?? Ummm…..Thursday</em>. That was three days ago. Shea just ate three day old, room temperature fish sticks. Dear god…..<br />
2. I’m typing on the computer and Shea (age almost 3 at the time) comes up to me eating something. (are you sensing a pattern here?) Me: What are you eating? Shea: Cheese. Me: Where did you get cheese? Shea: I found it under the couch. <em>Seriously?</em> Me: Come on, that’s disgusting. Who knows how long that has been there?<br />
3. I’m watching TV and Shea (age 2 and a half) comes up to me….yada yada. Shea: mmmm, Mom I found a raisin. Me: Are you sure that’s a raisin? Shea: I think so. Me: What if it’s poop? Shea: (Spits it out all over the carpet.) It was in fact a raisin and not poop.<br />
4. Shea comes out of the bedroom spitting (age 2). Shea: Mom this is yucky!! Me: What is it?? Shea: Blue stuff. Me: Where did you find it? Shea points at the laundry basket and I see blue laundry detergent has dripped on the handle and Shea has scraped some off and eaten it. Me: Why did you eat that??? Shea: ‘Cuz I wanted to eat something… <em>well, yeah</em>…<br />
5. Me: Shea are you eating paper??? Shea (age 2): No, mom, it’s a napkin….<br />
Shea could win Fear Factor with some of the things he has eaten and honestly, I used to have a heart attack every time I caught him eating something weird off the carpet, but you know, you just have to get over it. And he’s never had food poisoning or thrown up after eating any of those things, not even the nasty old fish stick. At this point, with the new baby and all the responsibilities I have that keep me from being able to hawk-eye him, I can’t get so worried with him eating shit off the floor. It’s going to happen. And do you think my cupboard is full of nutritious organic snacks? Hell no – Right now we have chocolate chip Teddy Grahams, mini-Hershey bars, pop corn, pudding snacks, Cheez-its, and barbecue chips. I feed him fruits and vegetables every day, the rest I just have to give in a little. Yes, he eats McDonalds, I bribe him with chocolate but I am proud to say that at almost three years old, he has never had pop. So there….<br />
<br />
<div class="photo photo_none"><div class="photo_img"><img alt="" class="img" src="http://a6.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/228485_215309595153771_215070271844370_807114_320022_n.jpg" style="width: 493px;" /></div></div><div class="photo photo_none"><div class="photo_img"><img alt="" class="img" src="http://a2.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/221890_215309785153752_215070271844370_807116_184269_n.jpg" style="width: 493px;" /></div></div></div></div>nicolepiperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678078094646369361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4833853276358984589.post-56512473302365573852011-06-20T15:55:00.000-07:002011-06-23T07:38:00.375-07:00Atlanta Traffic – or – The things I used to do….<div><br />
It’s 8:15am, I am driving home from dropping Matt off at the airport in Atlanta, he’s on a business trip to Texas again, I will be alone with both boys for three days. Going 80mph in a 55mph area, not because I like to speed, not because I’m in a hurry, but because that’s how people drive here. I don’t even know what highway I’m on, the GPS speaks and I listen… I’ve lived here for only a month and a half and I have no idea how to get around. I can get to the grocery store and back and that is the extent of my knowledge of my new surroundings. Traffic is bumper to bumper, the heart-stopping brake-lights flashing intermittently – I’m trying to concentrate on what the GPS lady is telling me to do, while simultaneously begging my almost three year old, Shea, to please be quiet and watch his movie, and please stop poking your three month old brother in the face and please stop whining, no I can’t put Blue’s Clues on right now, Mommy is driving, <em>Oh God, did I just hear Kellan poop?</em>, no we’re not getting McDonalds, for the love of Jesus Christ please SHUT UP!!!! … <em>Oh my god, did I really just say that?</em> I did, I totally just screamed “Shut Up” at my three year old. Call CPS, surely someone driving past heard me scream at my kid and now I am officially a terrible mother. How did I get here? What happened to leisurely car trips? To putting in my favorite CD, rolling the windows down and just driving, knowing how to get where I was headed? Hmmm….<br />
New List…. Things I used to do:<br />
<strong>1. Cook</strong>.<br />
I used to have fun cooking. Now I feel like I am a contestant on Hell’s Kitchen, but instead of the blond Gordon Ramsey screaming at me and calling me a donkey, it’s the blond three year old screaming at the top of his lungs for I can’t even understand what while I desperately try to throw together a semblance of a meal while bouncing an infant who is teething and cranky AND fighting the urge to hit myself in the face with the frying pan I am using.<br />
<strong>2. Go to the bathroom. </strong><br />
I used to be able to shower and use the toilet whenever I felt the need. Now I have spectators. Shea insists that he accompany me on these trips and I don’t dare leave Kellan in the living room alone with Shea. I have come out from the bathroom or laundry room, to find him with a sucker being shoved in his mouth or on occasion, covered in Hot Wheels cars.<br />
<strong>3. Eat my own food.</strong><br />
I used to be able to grab a snack, or a quick lunch, sit down at the table, or couch and consume said food in its entirety. Now I have to sneak like a ninja to the kitchen with a plan in place, I have to KNOW what I want and where it is. Once I make it to the kitchen undetected, I have to stealthily open a cupboard or fridge door without making a sound. One wrong move and out of nowhere, a little voice behind me says, “Can I have some?” ….sigh….Yes, Shea, you can have some. EVERY time there is food in my hands, “Can I have some? Can I have some?” I’ve even tried saying, “No, you can’t. This is mine” Which elicits glass shattering shrieks, tears and convulsions. I’m actually surprised he doesn’t weigh 300lbs. The kid eats his own meals and snacks and usually half of everything I dare to bring out of the kitchen. On a positive note, I am losing weight….<br />
<strong>4. Play the guitar and/or sing. </strong><br />
Since I was 12 yrs old I have been playing the guitar. I would play for hours until my fingers were so sore I physically couldn’t play anymore. I even used to open for local bands (back in Michigan) and would pack the coffee shop downtown. Now, when I’m feeling the musical urge, I will wipe the layer of dust off of my Alvarez and start playing a song that reminds me of my youth only to be told, “Mommy, be quiet, I can’t hear Dora!”<br />
<strong>5. Balance a check book with two hands.</strong><br />
This task is now done with one arm holding a writhing, whiny three month old while trying to get him latched on to nurse and the other hand trying to write legibly and work a calculator. I am the master of multitasking… This could also be filed under the “Things I now do with a boob hanging out” list….<br />
So here I am…now at a standstill in traffic on, Ah! I-285… see I’m learning!, I feel horrible for telling my kid to shut up, he’s pouting and making me feel worse. Kellan is starting to fuss, my stress level is now through the roof. But when I really think about it and put it all in perspective, I realize I wouldn’t trade it. Not for a second. These boys are my heart and soul and I’d give up all the “used to’s” in a heartbeat for them.<br />
“Shea, mommy is sorry. I said a bad word to you and I’m really sorry. Do you want mommy to put on Blue’s Clues when we get home?” He looks up from his pout. “And I’ll get you some Teddy Grahams?” His pout pulls up into a half smile. “And we can play outside after lunch.” He’s beaming, but I know I had him at “Blue’s Clues”. “Ok,” he pushes “and we can play Rock Band and sing Lady Gaga?” “Sure thing Buddy, just let mommy concentrate on getting home, Ok?” He’s ok with that and I feel a little better. Kellan is back asleep and traffic is moving again. GPS lady tells me to exit the highway and I’m back on a familiar street, I think I can get home from here without her. Breathe, breathe, breathe.</div>nicolepiperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00678078094646369361noreply@blogger.com0