Eew...finances.

Anybody else HATE dealing with finances? Somehow I (the worst person with money) got the responsibility of handling it in our home. I dread dealing with it each time I have to. I don't mind spending the money...I just hate balancing the check book, keeping track, being accountable and mostly being the one who knows the bottom line.

I'm sitting here with a sick feeling in my stomach b/c this whole"economy issue" is really bugging me. I don't know enough about it to really discuss it at all, but I do know that my bones are telling me just exactly what my husband has been telling me for years which is to "cut back the spending!"

So, here I sit with my list of things to cut back on, making phone calls. The first change we're making is selling one of the children. They cost waaay too much. Hee hee...just kidding. The first change is not eating out for a month (at least.) We noticed that a big chunk on our Visa bill is out to eat money and it's those small $10-$20 amounts that are adding up to hundreds so quickly. So, there's that.

Next is the cable and phone. We have both talked in length about cutting out the cable, mostly for parental reasons before though. There's no need for our kids to watch SO much T.V. and it's definitely an energy waster here b/c usually it's on as background noise. So we're just gonna do it. No cable and we're gonna go ahead and cancel the home phone too since we both have cell phones. Usually it's just our parents, closest friends and Abby's friends who call on the home phone and they all know our cell number anyway. Of course, that's gonna force me to keep my phone charged and with me at all times. I'm terrible about leaving my phone in the car, unplugged and usually half dead. That change alone will cut our monthly bill from $110 to $26.00 (maybe lower if we get a slower internet.)

And, not without a small burn, I'm gonna cut out the gym membership. I have convinced myself that it's my sanity at stake, being able to get away from the house and burn off some energy while getting away from the kids for a bit. BUT, if I'm being honest with myself, I really need to be spending more one on one time with my kids anyway (being on the floor playing, involving them in my own chores, reading to them and going outside more) and my sanity and spiritual safety is NOT wrapped around the gym membership. It IS wrapped around my alone time with Christ and I know from experience that I have a much better day and can handle most of what the kids throw at me (usually poop and tantrums) with ease when I am opened up to the holy spirit and spending time reading the Bible. So, I'm gonna keep my eyes focused on that and enjoy the $50 savings each month. Scott's also gonna take less tennis opportunities this Winter. The Winter months is when we have to pay for him to play and now his smaller group has been absorbed into a bigger group of players at the club, so he'll be rotating chances to play instead of being a sure thing. He'll be able to bow out of matches that are clear across Columbus and save money by not playing the match and the gas it takes to drive all that way, and that'll circle back to my sanity being intact. :)

And the next thing is our Sams Club membership. I've always figured that I spent waaaay more there than I saved and now I'm sure of it. So we're gonna cut that membership and solely buy at the grocery stores or Gordon Food Service (only if need be), which I've heard is just as cool as Sam's but requires no membership. There's also an Aldi Foods opening up right here by my house, so my plan is to shop there for as much as we can and only get the necessities or couponed items at the other stores.

This is all in an effort to live smaller. We've been thinking about doing it for so long but never really had the courage to do it. This uneasiness in the air regarding the economy and this billion dollar payoff and the fact that we really feel like we have no control over how our government affects us has been just what we needed to push us into smaller, more controlled and ultimately closer and happier living. I don't see that this will be easy and I'm SURE it'll take a lot of getting use to. Our hope is that this will cause us to be a closer family and happier in the end. God willing we'll see some improvement in our savings and the economy very soon.

Any tips on saving, coupons, cheap recipes, ways to live smaller/poor - send 'em my way! I'll keep you as posted as I can about how we are doing!

So, this is what 31 looks like

Eh, it's not so bad, I think, especially when I consider that I'm actually 11,323 days old. Sounds really ancient when you put it that way! I remember well though when I thought thirrrty was oooold and certainly by the time I was thirty I'd have incurable wrinkles and seriously saggy boobs. *tapping my chin and looking down at my chest*

Shit! I guess I was right. Thank goodness for Mary Kay and push-up bras. :)~

Hey, like my new birthday shirt? My boobs look HUGE in this photo and my face is all washed out with light, but the shirt looks friggin' AWESOME!

Actually, all in all, I think I've held up pret-ty darned well for a thirty-ONE year old with three small children. I haven't let myself go that much. And any irrepairable damage (the stretch marks, saggy and lopsided boobs, wrinkle lines) I'll consider them all sacrificial offerings to Motherhood, do my best to be proud of them and grow old "gracefully."

My sweet in-laws sent me a beautiful birthday card that noted just how much "grace AND beauty" I've brought to their family and well, it touched my heart. Awe...thanks, Mom and Dad. Hey, while I'm at it - thanks Erica, Aunt Debbie, Karynda, Jen and Aunt Pen for the similiarly touching birthday cards and wishes. Makes a girl feel all loved and stuff!

So...what did I do on my 31st birthday? Ugh...31...seriously? *rolling my eyes* Okay..."gracefully", Christy. My dear husband bought me (get this) a massage for my birthday. It only took nine years of hinting and asking to get it, but was worth every minute of the wait. Ahhh...it was so heavenly. I am still all loosey goosey from it. Scott took the day off of work and took Abby to school so that I could go get coffee early and then head to the massage on my own. If you've not had a professional massage - put it on your list of things to do. It's so worth the money!

I brought lunch home for my man and the rest of the day was just us hanging out, doing some random chores, being together and such. It was great!

Tomorrow my mom and brother will be coming over to spend some belated birthday time with me and then Sunday my in-laws are having a birthday dinner for me. Woohoo...I love it when your birthday stretches out like that. It's like having a three day birthday!

So...here I am. A big girl. Thirty-one, three kids, a great husband, all of us healthy...I feel pretty darned blessed.

*holding up my bottle of water* CHEERS to the next best year of my life!

Estrogen Euphoria

This weekend I met up with my college friends, Heidi and Amanda, to get away from our much too fast and furious lives and reconnect with each other. We decided to meet up in Sandusky and take a ferry over to Kelly's Island for the day. So...where to start?

I suppose the beginning. Saturday morning I was up and out of the house before the sun or my family was up. I got myself together, grabbed the bags and walked out the door into the dark morning. I kept having that nagging feeling that something wasn't right...I was forgetting something, it's too dark out outside, in an unfamiliar vehicle (I took Scott's car), I was almost...afraid to leave. It was SO queer. And yet I pushed on, got some gas, coffee and some cash from the ATM. Down the highway I went and popped in a homemade praise CD I made the night before. *sigh* This was going to be sooooo nice, I thought to myself, just getting away.

I made my way around 270 to 71 and began the 49 mile leg of the trip. It was still so dark out and my head was still trying to release itself from that nagging, cramping feeling of not being in my old routine. I kept saying to myself, out loud, "you are fine, Christy. This is going to be great. Scott has it all under control and anyway, it'll be good for us all to do this." The music was resonating in my chest, unusually loud for me but I had to drown out the feeling of unease. Then all of the sudden as I made a slow curve through some wooded area, the trees opened up and I could see the sun slightly glowing up the earth. *gasp* Oh shoot...I'm crying. What is going on? Ow! My chest is actually heaving, my lips are pulling back as I let go of this cry that must have been pent up for some time. WHY am I crying for goodness sake?! It took me by complete surprise as I listened to these worshipping lyrics that my heart was tearing open without my consent. I could hear in my soul God (I guess it was God? Or maybe my own conscience?) asking me "How do YOU know I am alive?" and even without blinking or catching my next breath I said "because you change me." *deep breathe* It was an awesome time alone with the Lord, the next hour or so. We talked, I praised, I asked forgiveness, I opened up my Pandora's box and let it all fly. And then I felt peace. Well, some peace. Even after I met up with my girls at Perkins, after getting lost for ten minutes (no thanks to "Dumb B*tch" my GPS lady), I was still wound tight and it took a loooong part of the day to just feel my body relax.

We got seriously run around Lake Erie trying to find a ferry that would take us over to Kelly's Island and then had to schlep a ways to find a golf cart rental place that was reasonably priced (I use reasonably priced very loosely). I'll bet we spent about an hour driving around and ferrying over to the island, but it was soo worth it. We just talked ourselves silly in the car, laughing out loud at the fact that if we had any of our husbands with us on this goose chase they'd have turned us around and gone home. We were feeling quite strong and proud of ourselves that we knew a great prize was at the end of the mild suffering. Isn't that the truth, though. It seems like SO many days are pure misery for me and I trudge through, begrudgingly or not, all the time in the back of my head knowing it has GOT to be worth some prize at the end of the day. Even if it's just kissing the sleeping heads at night or knowing that through my suffering or self-sacrifice these kids and my husband are going to be better off in the end.

So our big plan that we all three agreed on from the beginning was to hit the winery there on the island and taste some good wine. Come to find out it was four shot glasses with 2 tablespoons of four different wines. One kind made us gag, two were just alright and one was worthy. Funny though, I'm the odd girl out who likes white. So that was too quick and the bartender offered to whip us up the house Sangria pitcher and we said "heck yea!" A little Sangria...*ahem* okay, a lot of Sangria later I felt loosey goosey all over. We three old friends sat at a table with our pitcher and too expensive American cheese, tiny loaf of bread and grey poupon platter. Didn't matter to us though - we were together, having seriously deep and great conversation, broken with stupidly outrageous laughter and crude non-ladylike talk. I'm pretty sure we were saying "p*nis" and other choice words way too loud. At some point I realized that there was a preteen girl sitting at the next table and was lucid enough to know we'd better be more careful. So - we skidaddled out of there and went off to scoot around the island on our very slow (sometimes backfiring) golf cart. The island itself was very quaint and lovely. And several of the houses there were drop dead gorgeous! The whole feel of the place was family oriented and there happened to be two weddings there on the island that very day. Fun! The shopping wasn't all that though...not so great of stuff with much too high price tags. Apparently skanky crocheted halter tops and dresses are a cool thing to wear at the lake. I don't imagine there will EVER be a day that I'd be drunk enough to look at one and think it was a good idea.

So after we hopped the ferry and back to our roach motel. Oh yea, that was my big mistake. I booked the hotel online, basically sight unseen (based on a pic online) and I thought was getting the same hotel that Amanda had just stayed at. BUT, apparently, there are two Comfort Inns. One that looks and smells like ass and the other one clear on the other end of the spectrum, it even had a small nightclub in it. Good grief! After a little talk with the guy at the counter he was gracious and booked us at the other, nicer hotel. Thanks be to God - seriously! The other hotel's room had a door on the outside of the hotel (more like motel) and you could clearly see daylight coming in around the doorway. Plus as we were packing our crap up there was a shirtless dude hanging over the rail with a cig and/or beer just hanging out. *shiver* No thanks.

That night I think we all three slept like dead women. I went to sleep around 11pm and didn't move until 6am when Heid' got up to pee, and even then I fell back to sleep until almost 8am. There was no one to wake me up! You might think that my brain would wake up out of habit but it didn't. I woke up feeling awesome.

After a little coffee we went SHOPPING! Let. Me. Tell. You. We were having a GREAT time. No kids screaming, whining, trying to climb out of the dressing room stall. We took our time sifting through the racks and took our armloads into the dressing room TWO and THREE times! We got honest to goodness, critical looks at ourselves in the clothes and also had each other to comment on the outfits. It was uh-mazingly theraputic. And who knew I was a size 10?! God was definitely smiling on me. We spent the entire day (lunch aside) shopping our fool heads off, finding great deals and just spending a great amount of time on ourselves.

And before we knew it, it was time to go. So sad. And yet I know we were all three eager to get home to our kidlets and husbands, all hoping that they would be just as happy to see us. And they were. Heidi and Amanda got home to a new addition to the deck and a freshly painted bedroom, and my husband was smiling so hard I was fairly sure he'd gone a little kuckoo while I was gone. I was just as glad to see his face though. Nothing like a little time and distance to make you crave your spouse's face.

*break for shameless PDA*

Today I'm still on a high from being so steeped in estrogen and the lack of kids that it's carried me through several hissy fits and a poopie pair of underwear with a smile.

I did realize, while I was gone, that:

1) My husband is capable and NEEDS to be left with the kids more often (sorry, babe. *wicked grin*)

2) I NEED to make more time to be alone doing the things I love, outside of the house. I have been so wrapped up in the house and nearly to the point of depression. I felt like I was walking in circles more often than not and that whatever I did get done was useless b/c ten minutes later it was messed up again. Can I tell you how disgusted I am with the basement mess? Ugh. I could scream. So I need to remember to get away from the house and do things with my friends.

3) I am a really fun, funny and passionate person. I forgot about who I was. Well, not completely forgot, it was more a constant internal battle of being who I am and enjoying being around people against being me stuck in a rut in the house, crying about who I use to be and who I want to be again. I got out of the house long enough to let my fists unclench and my neck muscles to relax and I remembered...damn, I like me. This is the girl that Scott married and wanted to be with the rest of his life...not that haggy, whiney lady in the house. So I've decided to fight for myself. I'm going to get out more and meet people. Hell, I might take a weekend job waitressing somewhere. I always liked waitressing. Sick, right?

Gosh, this post has gone on sooooooo long. If you've made it this far you're a blog saint. :)~

There'll be more introspection from me later. There is plenty more! And I'll post some pics as soon as my girls send me some of our weekend.

Thanks for being so patient with me and sticking with me during my hiatus.

What's Rolling Around in my Head

Most of you who read this already know me personally and know that I come from a split family. My mom and dad were never married and what I gather from stories, they loved each other they just couldn't live with each other. So they split and shortly thereafter I was born and shortly after that my Dad went back to Wyoming. He's an Ohio boy, born and raised here among the cows and corn, but the Wild, Wild West promised better work and a better life and he answered the call. He still calls Wyoming home with my step-mom and "brotha from anotha motha." Over the years I've come to grips with the reality that my parents are NOT getting back together, that I, in fact, DO like my step-mother and that I have to be at peace with this long distance relationship. And I have, for the most part, come to be at peace with it. Unfortunately, it's been at a cost. I've missed out on SO much of their lives out there that I don't even really know them - and they don't really know me. Which is REALLY sad b/c I'm supa dupa awesome! *tongue in cheek*

No seriously, I've missed my little brother growing up. Gosh, he's married now (Hi, Andrea!) and has two children for crying out loud! He and I had three years together, most of which he doesn't remember b/c he was a baby when I lived out there, and then one short Summer, a quick trip to see him graduate and another to get married. Our abbreviated relationship has left us with little to hold on to. It's kinda weird to think that I have this brother out there 1000 miles away that I don't even know well. I couldn't tell you what his favorite color is, what brand of beer he drinks, if he likes cookies or cake or what precisely he does for a living. I know it's at a coalmine! Points for that? To be quite honest, I don't know those things about my Dad either. Sad.

So the cost of living as a split family (one that lives 1000 miles away from each other) is simply losing touch with each other. For me it's always been gifts and calls from my Dad on major holidays and then we'd call every now and again in between. Now as I've grown into an adult with a family of my own, the calls are even more sporadic and far between. Sometimes holidays pass by without actually getting to talk and suddenly half a year has passed and we may have texted each other somewhere in there? And he's not the only one either, I've just recently gotten back in touch with my Aunt Jo, only to find that she's pretty sick. Damn it! And also my "other mother" Aunt Pen who I just LOVE SO MUCH and the distance we've experienced, when I think about it...brings that hard lump into my throat and I have to fight back tears. Even now, the memories of our time together, coffee on the front porch or reading books together or her driving me back and forth from College, makes my stomach twist hard and I have a real need to be close to her again. Great, here come those damn tears.

Shit. I miss my family. I miss my Dad. He's recently having a difficult time in his neck of the woods and rumor has it that he's not taking it all well. So now I have allllll this distance between us (he's not returning my emails either and I'm trying really hard not to be a "girl" and read into it, but I fear the worst all the same) and I know he's hurting, as are others around him, and I just don't have a dog in the fight so I can't jump in there and help or console or anything. I feel completely handicapped. It doesn't help that air tickets out to their neck will cost you your soul. It's not like flying to Chicago or San Fran or even Las Vegas. Nope, it's like $600 a ticket and I know I'd want/have to take a kid or two with me.

So, today will go on for me like it does most any other day. Laundry. School drop off/pick up. Blues Clues and such. But inside of me all of this, and more, will rolling around, brimming to the top of me, stifled down and suppressed again. It is a cost of being part of a split family.

Mrs. Baker, we need to talk

So I go pick up Z-man at school and of course, I'm nervous. Obviously he didn't soil his shorts or I'd likely have gotten a call, so that's cool. I walk into the "Turtles and Mice" hallway - Zach's a Turtle and I find that comical for obvious reasons - and see that every child has a big, wet, red circle painting under their name...except Zach. *sigh* Oh no. I get to the door and the teacher calls Z from his spot in the circle and he comes running to me. Yea, Mommy! I said "I didn't see a painting from Zach and was wondering about that." Her faces twists as she sucks air between her teeth, "Uh yea, Mrs. S would like to talk to you about that. Um, just come in!" Uh-oh. I have visions of Zach timed out in the quiet corner for pouring out red paint or maybe he's brushed out a big red penis or vag? It really could be anything with Z.

So I step inside and teeny, tiny, cute Mrs. S begins, "Well, we were all painting and here the kids HAVE to wear a smock (she grabs this ugly homemade vest that is made of a vinyl table cloth and holds it up), but when I tried to put it on Zach he just simply would not put it on and kept running away from me. So, we were just wondering...has something happened to him, some sort of trauma or does he have a fear of putting things over his head that we need to know about?"

Uh yea, we usually torture him daily by making him wear seriously fugly art smocks so I guess since he has a choice in your class he's just saying hell no.

She was so cute and concerned that it was really hard holding back my need to burst out laughing. I just chuckled a little and said "No, no trauma or major fear that we're aware of." Her eyes were still pleading with me for an answer and I can only imagine the wild chase scene that our turkey of a son sent her on. I just kept reassuring her that it was just as odd to me as it is to her, but honestly I know Zach and he's not the kind of kid who wears costumes or hats, let alone a seriously fugly art smock. I'd like to hope that he'd just do it to be compliant, but he's not that kind of kid.

So I offered to bring in one of his Daddy's shirts, as I've seen him put on the notorious grey T shirts and walk around proudly. The deal is that he wears a smock or else he doesn't participate in the painting project. So - we'll try. Otherwise he just gets to use the markers on construction paper.

Damn, I was hoping to test my skillz by carrying Lilly on my left arm, hold Zach in my right hand AND juggle wet paint art projects. Oh yea, they send them home THAT day, not when they are all dried.

So...needless to say, this should be a really funny and fun school year for Zach, the totally sweet teachers AND for Mom.

Kicking and screaming

Zach is at his first full session of preschool. He cried and threw himself on the floor as I left, but I didn't get a chance to give him a proper good-bye. They were thrusting a paper and clipboard at me saying "you HAVE to sign this NOW." Meanwhile I have Lilly in one arm and Zach standing at my knees frightened. Buggers! My last vision of my son's first full day of school was him being picked up, kicking and screaming, and carried into the classroom. I know he'll be fine, but it stung a little.

It's overwhelming right now that I have to keep TWO schedules and sets of homework/paperwork in files and finished by the appropriate days. I had to come home and MAKE SURE that I know exactly what time to pick him up from school. I was getting all anxious that I wasn't 100% sure. I'm hoping that once I get a month or so under my belt I'll have it down and it'll be "old hat." I either need to get a big Mom board with schedule slots and keep it in the kitchen or I need a palm pilot type of deal that will remind me as things start to approach. Abby'll be starting Karate in October and I'd like to get her in Awana. I feel the "soccer mom" thing is about to slap my ass and say "giddyup, Christy!'

Not to mention that as I was leaving the school I saw other moms posing their child against different areas and taking their "first day of school pic." Way to go, Christy! Totally missed that one. *shrugging* There's always next year, right? Or maybe I'll get one of him when I pick him up...that'll do.

Stay tuned for the whole story...

Much of Nothing

I know the posts lately have been kinda boring. I've just had a writer's block, but more on the emotional side. I think of lots of things throughout the day that I could write about (if I had a laptop at THAT moment) and life really hasn't slowed down or become less interesting. I just get to the computer and watch the cursor blink, thinking "that will NOT be interesting to anyone else" or "they're gonna drive nails in their eyeballs if I make one more poop reference." Plus, by the time I get over here to the computer, after running btwn umpteen other things, someone around me is wanting something and knowing this I feel defeated before I even get started. And when I DO get to write for a length of time I just struggle to get the words to flow. *sigh* That sucks.

So I'm considering a guest poster, but whom shall I ask? I know a few people well enough to ask such a thing, but also several others who are great bloggers but I don't KNOW them well. Hmmm...I'll have to think on this one.

Do you think Dooce would guest post for me? Do you think I'd have the courage to ask?

We shall see...I'll think about it.

On another note...I'm reading a guh-reat book right now. It's called Twilight by Stephanie Meyer. I had been reading The Pact by Jodi Picault, but it was SO slow to read that it was a struggle, even though the storyline was interesting. Just as I was about to the end of it, my friend Karynda handed me this new book and said it was SO good. Later I thumbed through the first few pages reading it quickly. Half an hour later I knew I'd been sucked into la-la novel land and wasn't to return until the last page was read. It's wierd how when you're really into a novel you think about the characters throughout the day. Anyway, this Twilight is a love story between a teenage girl (I think it's from the teen section at Barnes and Noble) and a vampire, Edward Cullen. It's not so much about the vampire's life right now as it is about them falling in love and trying to figure each other out. It's a four book series, so I'm sure it gets more into the vampy life later.

For now I keep walking around the house saying stuff like, "it's an impossible relationship! She must realize that, right? It'll never work unless she becomes one of them! She wouldn't do that. Right?" I DO love falling into a great book. A nice side effect of sitting around, ignoring the things I should be doing is that Zachary now climbs into the big purple chair across from me and holds his Clifford the Big Red Dog book up, thumbing the pages with interest. Like mother, like son...I hope. :)

We felt like teenagers again

Scott's parents offered us a whole afternoon/early evening off from the kids so that we could go out alone. Woohoo!!! We were super pumped thinking about all the possibility. Then we got a call from the tennis club notifying Scott that the finals of his tournament were the whole day of our scheduled date, today. Damn it! *crossing my arms*

Then my MIL, Sandie, said "why don't you just take Christy with you and then go to dinner?" She didn't realize that it was way out of town and an all day affair, but it certainly got my husband all twitterpated. :) So we divised a schedule that involved both my mom and his parents watching the kids in shifts. Voila! We had ten full hours TOGETHER and without kid interuption. From the moment we got the go ahead from the grandparents we were both giddy with excitement. Scott had his best girl and tennis all day and I had my best guy and no kids all day. We figured that the last time we had this much time alone together was when we went for an Anniversary overnight four years ago.

I had such a great time with him too. Breakfast, lost a tennis match, dead battery in the car, jumped and off to lunch, won a tennis match, music, talks, long car ride. Every touch was deliberate and fully felt. Eye contact. Flirting. No kids screaming in the background or foreground. We were able to eat hot food w/o interuption and leave without picking up a bundle of kids and toys and crumbs. I was able to really watch him play tennis and I gotta tell ya...it just made him all that much more sexy to me. *sexy whistle* It was blessed time and we savored each minute.

We were glad to come home all the same and see happy kids and grandparents greeting us.

It was like old times though. Gave us a chance to remember who we were once, before all the chaos that consumes us on a daily basis. I'm delighted to report that we still LOVE being with each other and look forward to more of it. In fact, my mother said she had such a great time with the kids that she'd be happy to come back next week too. Whaaaat!? You bet!

It gives a girl great hope. Thank you SO much, Mom, Mom and Dad - from the bottom of our hearts!

First Days and First Birthdays

So Abby started Second Grade this year. She just amazes me how she just goes along with it all now and has no fears. This from the girl who when she was three WOULD NOT let you walk around the back side of the car to get in. She HAD to see you walk around the front and heaven forbid you leave her in the car for any length of time. It was an automatic vomit session from anxiety. But here she is...seven years wise and telling ME all about how school things run. She has this life completely outside of my control and it just amazes me. I can easily say that she's a bright child with great manners (outside of the house) and I believe the teachers are not blowing smoke up my bum when they say "she's a joy to have in class." Where DID that saying come from? Is there somewhere in the world where blowing smoke up one's bum is a GOOD thing?

She was the first one in the room that morning, so she got the pick her own seat and she snagged the one two seats to her left in the picture there. Right beside the teacher's desk. My daughter the teacher's pet. :)~

She had a great first day, so she said. I asked her what the worst part of the day was and she said, "I picked the desk right next to the pencil sharpener and EVERYone had to sharpen their pencils while I worked on my papers!" Hee hee. I guess if that's the worst thing then she had a pretty good day.













And then Miss Lilly Baker turned one this August! I had big shebang all planned...Angus burgers, ballparks, huge strawberry salad, boursin cheese spread, Strawberry Angel Foodcake birthday cake, a cooler full of drinks...I cleaned the house and everything. Let's celebrate! Three people showed up of the fourteen or so that were invited. Yea, nice. So it was an intimate celebration with the in-laws. She received a big bag of Gerber snacks from Gramma B, as well as a singing book and a little PDA/cell phone kind thing. She loves the phone looking thing since she can carry it around with her. Mommy and Daddy got her a couple of new Fall outfits and a My Little Pretty Purse that talks to her. Fun!



















It was a fun time and the whole point was to celebrate Lilly and so we did. Big girl that she is! Plus, more cake for us!

Oh, and a side note: do not bother with the bottles of Mojitos. I saw the case of Mojitos and was carried away by the thought of the bartender crushing mint in the bottom of an icy glass while skinny chick in the skirt kicked her hips back and forth...and thought...ooh, that's a good idea. Buy a whole case! Eh...not so great a taste and the party does not spurt out of the bottle when you uncap it. Damn it. Now I have a buttload of these Mojito bottles and no one to drink them with.

The boy who won't poop on the toilet

That's MY son.

It's been a wild morning! Zach shit in his diaper this morning at the gym. Gah! *holding my nose* Seriously!? Dude is three and a half and does not want to make an effort to sit on the toilet AT ALL. And yes, I made him wear a diaper b/c he gets no more underwear until he poops in the potty. I'm mad too that he pooped while we were there and missed yet another opp to get him on the potty. He was either naked or without underwear for a day and a half with no pooping. The gym had oh *tapping my chin* I'd say about forty little kids in the nursery, half of them bawling, and TWO workers. They were seriously overrun and the gal was looking at me like "please lady, get help!" I ran in, took a shower and came back. Then I stayed in the nursery and helped with the kids for about ten minutes, until I had to clean Zach up and by then the step class was over and the other moms came to get their kids. I guess they paged a few moms, but no one can hear it in the classroom. Kinda dumb considering most of the moms are IN the classroom. I'm thinking of talking with the manager at the gym. Time at the gym is MY time and I really need to know that my child is safe and well taken care of. The number of children is taking a serious hike toward the maximum number allowed in there and they are not getting more adult help in there. It's ridiculous.

So then we went to meet Zach's teachers for the first itme. All was going okay. He played quietly and shared and took his turn. Then we had to sit down in a circle and listen to the teacher, just at the same time that Zach found the headphones in the reading corner. OH and before this he got his head stuck in a toy garage he was running his cars in and out of. *laughing* Thankfully I got him out without having to alert anyone else. Big goofball! So ALL the kids except Zach sat in the circle and listened and said their names....and then there was me (with Lilly in the sling) trying to defend the reading corner, sweating my ass off and trying to force him into the circle.

There is ONE teacher who was really forthright with him, grabbed him when he needed to go in one direction and told him sternly to do what he was to be doing. The other one was a pussyfoot and then there's a third who is apparently in charge of it all. I had a talk with Mrs. Pussyfoot and explained our situation and that he needed to be dealt with strongly and she said they would make sure he followed the rules or go to timeout. I just chuckled a little and said "okay then, good." All the while thinking "You have no idea yet what you're dealing with here, lady." My only hope is that between the three of them they'll be able to reassure him that they are strong enough and he'll fall in line with the rest of the class. Oh, and I forgot to mention...there are SEVENTEEN kids in the class for three teachers. Seventeen three year olds in one room. Sounds like a recipe for disaster to me, but they must survive somehow. I'm hoping mine will too!

Of course, then we get home, get lunch underway and Zach goes over and craps his pants again. This time he has nothing to catch it (remember, no underwear) and he dumps on the floor. *deep sigh* Maybe this school thing isn't such a good idea after all. *shaking my head*

Stay tuned. Thursday we go for an orientation with the director while Zach will be on his own in the class for an hour.