Wednesday, September 16, 2015


Last week was a big week for us, as our little lady started preschool.
We enrolled her in the same preschool her cousins went to, which is actually part of our local high school's Family and Consumer class.
Her teachers are a bunch of high school students who are interested in future careers of working with children.

It has actually gone a lot better than I was expecting.  When I say that, I mean she actually let me leave the first day without any tears!!
She just saved her crying for AFTER I left the school.
I got a phone call on the first day, about an hour before school was supposed to be out (school is only two hours, three days a week) from the teacher in charge of the preschool program.
The teacher said that Lucy was having a rough day, and was crying for me sporadically during the day.
I guess she was fine when she was allowed to free play with toys, but when it was time for structured activities, like circle time and art, she cried.  Which I thought was slightly funny because of course she's going to cry for me when she's told to do something she doesn't want to do. o_0
While I didn't have to come pick her up, the teacher gave me the option to do so, which naturally I did because I felt bad that she was so sad!  I ended up picking her up 20 minutes early, which is not bad for a first day.
The next morning, the teacher assured me that the crying was normal and that they are happy to work with her.  I guess the only reason she called me during the first day was because she didn't want me to come pick Lucy up and then be told at pick-up that she cried.  She asked if it was okay to not call unless she's inconsolable and then just tell me whether or not she cried at pick-up, which I'm fine with because hello, she's going to have to get used to school eventually, so why not start now?
All in all, it's been a pretty positive experience so far.  She's excited every morning when I drop her off and tells us everything they did that day during school when I pick her up, and she asks to go to preschool every day.
And I'm excited to go grocery shopping with only one kid.  And Target.  And the post office.
Because we all know errands with one is way better than two!

Monday, June 1, 2015

It's June already?!

It's June already, holy crap!!
I think I have been waiting for summertime to get here since probably February.  It doesn't get super cold here but it's nice to not have to wait until mid-morning to head out and play.
It's finally starting to warm up a little bit, so I'm sure I'll be complaining in no time about how friggin' hot it is outside.
I think I'm most excited about summer time being here because it means that there will be barbecues and swim dates every weekend from here until September, and having something to occupy my crazy little toddlers is huge in our household.
This weekend we went to the local water park and then to a cookout to celebrate my mother-in-law's birthday.
I have no pictures from those events, but here are some of what we've been up to.
Andy built the kids a playhouse, Jackson has learned to walk and climb recently, we had a blast blowing bubbles at the local farmer's market and Lucy started her first gymnastics class.
Happy June 1, everyone!  It's my favorite month of the year!

Thursday, January 22, 2015

If I make it out alive...

I swear I will laugh about this stuff when she's older.  Or probably even next week.
Today has just been one of those days where I am a second away from dropping f-bombs all up in here to blow off some steam.
I decided that we would stay home today so I could focus more on potty training.  We've been using Pull-ups for the past few weeks but the people on the Internets are right, she's not uncomfortable when wet because it's like wearing a diaper. 
So I bought training underwear in hopes of helping her learn that peeing your pants sucks and makes you feel gross.
I think we are on pair number four or five today. Instead of telling me she has to go, I get, "Uh oh, change the diaper!" or "Uh-oh, pee!" and then I look over and her pants are soaked.
It's progress, though, because I know soon she will probably tell me she has to go instead of telling me she went.
But being housebound has made me cranky.  We usually head out for an activity in the morning.  That way, she is worn out, ready for lunch and ready for a nap instead of like today.
After taking her pee for the zillionth time, we headed out, Jackson, dogs and all to play in the front yard before lunch.
Which was cool, until it was time for lunch.  Because that meant going inside.
Cue the running across the yard screaming "Play outside! Play outside!" which meant mommy had to spent extra time coaxing her in the house like a dirty cat that needs a bath.
While I was making lunch, three time-outs were given for spitting water all over the floor twice and then running to her bedroom with a fork just because I asked her to give me the fork.  She grabbed it off of the counter, I asked for it which apparently means run like a bat out of hell even though running with a fork is a bad idea.  But she doesn't know that.
When she was done with lunch, she hucked her placemat across the table, which connected with my glass of water, spilling it all over the floor and Brody.
The cherry on top was when I had refilled my cup of water, and she decided to pick it up, walk to the other side of the table and dump the contents all over the floor.
So naturally I called Andy and begged him to come home with chocolate.
Now she is sleeping after minimal fuss.  I guess being a badass is tiring.

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

That one time I got blood all over the post office

See also:  That time Steph made an ass of herself in front of a bunch of strangers.

I will admit, most of the time I psych myself out about really dumb things to only discover it's really not as bad as I thought (like going to a new grocery store with two kids under three.  I know.  I really over thought that one.)
And going to the post office with a two-year-old and a 10-month-old should have been one of those things, had I actually thought more about it.  In the past I hadn't been to keen on dragging them to the post office, but since we live in Roseville now, and said post office is walking distance from a park and a library, we make a fun little outing of it now.
I needed to mail a humidifier tank back to the manufacturer because I ordered the wrong box, and you would think with all of the Amazon Prime ordering my family does, we would have a box that would fit it, so I could just print up a postage slip and mail it from home.
But seeing that I like cute things, and the tank is shaped like a frog, of course it wouldn't fit any boxes we had.
So, I had to visit the dreaded post office.  Now, even before kids, I never really visited the post office a lot, nor had I mailed a ton of packages, so I didn't really know how it "worked."
I thought they would find a box for me and package up my froggy tank.
When we rolled up to the post office, Jackson had been asleep for a few minutes.  Since he'd been fighting a nap for most of the morning, I decided I would wear him and put Lucy in the stroller.  You know, because I thought they would box up the tank.
Right away, it's super awkward because I have Lucy in the double stroller since we were planning to walk to the park afterwards, and the post office is tiny.  I mean, I could have pushed it into the post office and bowled over a few elderly patrons and some bubble wrap.
So awkward mom of the year I am, I see an employee in the lobby and meekly hold up my tank, saying I need to find a box for it.
The guy pretty much held my hand through the whole process.  I'm a 32-year-old woman who doesn't know how to mail a package.  They should really teach that in school.
After trying to fit it in several boxes, we finally found one.  The post office guy asks if I need tape, and I say yes.  I set the tape and my large box down on their tiny little table, and ask Lucy to hang onto the tank.
Watching me awkwardly fumble at folding the box (since I have a 23-pound sleeping baby strapped to my chest, which makes most things tricky) he offers to tape the bottom of the box for me.
I put the tank in the box, he hands me some bubble wrap, I stuff it in the box and give the extras to Lucy because she loves bubble wrap.  I know, plastic and a toddler, and all of those warnings about this not being a toy, but I'm right there, hello.
Being the person that I am (the can't ever ask for help person) I attempt to tape the box shut.
As I'm pulling the tape down to cut off a piece, my finger comes down on the jagged cutting blade and leaves what looks like a tiny little shark bite on my finger.
Being that it was my finger, though, of course it starts to profusely bleed.
All over the box, all over the table, all over the stroller, all over the floor.
Basically, I am just flinging blood all over the place everywhere I go.
I tell the poor, confused employee that I cut myself, not because I'm mad about it, but because I want him to know his post office lobby has basically become a haz mat scene.
He relocates me over to another counter so I can finish filling out my address sticker.
Now, I should pause here and say that the stares and whispers on the part of the other patrons had already started when I walked in with my enormous stroller and started taking up the post office dude's time.
The stares and whispers pretty much tripled as soon as the blood started flowing.  Some of them were of the sympathetic variety, but there were definitely some judgmental ones going.
As soon as my package was taped and ready, I had multiple offers to cut in line to the front.
But being that a) I wasn't sure how I would navigate my stroller to the front without taking anyone out and b) I already felt bad for making a spectacle, I headed to the back of the line.
Of course that was a mistake, because Lucy was done with her snack.
I had to endure hearing "Go to the park?" and "Turn around, turn around!" and "Get down, get down!" for the remaining ten minutes we were in the post office.
Props to the sympathetic lady behind me, who has a 3-year-old but was smart enough to visit the post office while he was in preschool.
The nice man in front of me, after offering to let Lucy hold his mail, offered again for me to go ahead of him, so I sighed and did it.
Next time, I'm going to Kinko's.
End scene.

Saturday, November 1, 2014

Old house love

I took a totally unintentional break from blogging this past month, but I'm pretty sure it had to do with, oh, I don't know, moving.
We've been living in our new house for three weeks now, but today marks the day that the Lincoln house is no longer ours.  
I had a mini-meltdown this morning when I realized that it was Nov. 1, and yesterday was the last day it was ours.
Andy and I did some cleaning over there during the week, and I made it maybe two hours into cleaning without crying over some memory I had.  I think I was in Lucy's room, and realizing that someone was probably going to paint over her mural made me pretty sad and then it was all over from there.
I like to say that I(we) grew up in that house.  It was the first house we bought, and we spent most of the time we've been married there.  We brought Brody home to that house, we had so many parties and shenanigans, and then we brought each of our babies home to that house.  That house will always have a special place in my heart.
Enough with all of the sappy shit, though.  How about a trip down memory lane?
 Ahh, my graduation party.  We later found the "baby" behind the TV.

 Dirty Scrabble was born at this table.
 And who can forget the adult pinata party?  We stuffed it full of miniature bottles of booze, quarters, candy and poppers.

Aaaaand our very first Halloween party, where Jeff (left) dressed up as Scott (right).
 We brought Lucy home here!!
 And Brody.

 We made Cake Pops...
 And brought Cartman home!

 And had six Christmases...
 And five Halloweens (two of which I remember, hee hee).
 And we brought Jackson home here!
Goodbye, old friend.  You were a really good house, we were very lucky to have you!
(There were so many more pictures I could have posted, but as you can see, I have two little children, and ain't nobody got time for that.)

Saturday, October 4, 2014

A small town really is like a family

I realize how cliche that sounds, but it's true.
This is my last Saturday night in our small town.  
I realize a population of 43,000 isn't really that small, considering the town I grew up in only had Tonaround 1,400 people in 2000.
But Lincoln really is like a small town, and I'm really going to miss it.
Any given day, I can drive down the street and know the guy driving the garbage truck next to me, the police officer on the side of the road doing a traffic stop, the dude cleaning the fountain in Beermann Plaza and most of the guys on the fire engine racing through town.
We can go to Target for diapers and wind up stopping to talk to at least one person we know, and that's on a good day.
We try to go the library every Thursday for Mother Goose on the Loose, and love chit chatting with the librarians we've come to know and love.
We've been here for six years, and the first year we pretty much kept to ourselves.  I didn't really start getting to know people until I started working for the newspaper, and the town really grew on me, I started to get to know so many different people that I consider friends now.
I'm a little sad about moving to the next city over.  Sure it's bigger, and there's more stuff to do there, but I'm really going to miss seeing familiar, friendly faces on an almost daily basis.
Cheers Lincoln, it's been fun getting to know you.  We'll be back to visit often, I promise.

Monday, September 8, 2014

Six months

This little nugget turned six months old on Sunday!

I cannot even put into words what Jackson adds to our family.  He is the happiest, snuggliest and funniest little boy.
This little meatball loves his sister, and she's the only one who can really make him giggle by doing nothing at all.  She sneezes, he laughs.  She shrieks, he laughs.  When I say nothing, I mean she doesn't try to make him laugh, pretty much her existence makes him laugh.
Everyone comments on how big he is.  And the kid his huge.  We weighed him on our bathroom scale and he was 20 pounds last night.  At his doctor's appointment today, he was 19 pounds, which is what Lucy weighed at one!

I'm not sure if it's a boy vs. girl thing, or what, but we have been more successful with breastfeeding, so I think that has a lot to do with it.  
We got clearance to start solid foods, so tonight he had his first taste of oatmeal.  I was too busy manning the spoon to get pics, but Andy did, so I'll have to get my hands on those.  I think it's safe to say he enjoyed it, and kept grabbing the spoon.  He needed a bath right after, that's for sure.

He's a pro at rolling over both ways, and has started scooting backwards on his tummy.  It's really only a matter of time until he's crawling!
I can't wait to see what the next six months hold for this little nugget!