I'd rather celebrate 10 years

Ten years ago, I never imagined this:

I was blessed to see a lot of this:

I knew I would eventually see this:

And he told me he'd support me, like this:

We dreamed about this:

He made me smile by doing this:

And the fun rubbed off on the girls, like this:

And that's why I am so happy to have this:

Happy 10 years, Boo.  

I'd do it all again, in a heart beat.

I love this man.

I love this man.

I. Love. This. Man.

I'd rather be mingling 5/16

Monday Mingle time again!

Now don't faint - I know it's crazy - I'm posting this on Sunday.  I'm not last-minute for once.
No, you haven't stepped into an alternate universe.  Don't fear, I'm sure I'll be late again next week.  (And huge thanks to you those who still commented even though it was practically Tuesday when I posted. Smooches!)

Now, just a warning that I have my helpers with me again this week.  (Shh, don't tell them, but I was secretly hoping to do it alone this time around.  And I was hoping to do it earlier in the day, outside, when it was sunny and I was more alone.)  Damn, turns out I was kind of last-minute anyway.  Gah!

Ahh well, they add spunk when I might have put you to sleep.  ;)

And here is the picture I was talking about - beware the ugly cry:

I was an utter mess.  So was Riley.  We just wanted our little buddy back!  I might get a little sniffly this time around too.  But, I think I'll bounce back much easier this time.  Even quicker if I can find a couple of moms to have a few margarita's with!  

Till next week, minglers...

I'd rather be reminded why being a mom is SO important

Sometimes you need a reminder of why your are a mom.  Because the job is hard, and long, and unforgiving.

But it is also so beautiful.  So very, very beautiful.

I'm not at Mom 2.0 summit.  But this sure makes me wish I was:

I'd rather be in Fantasyland

Do you ever feel like if you (or your child) take just one small step in the wrong direction, it will change the rest of your children's lives?

I know it sounds dramatic, but I feel that way.

My daughter is walking this thin line - the line between Fantasyland and Real Life (which I will now refer to as Meanieville.)

In Fantasyland people play magical games of pretend and believe in Santa Clause, The Easter Bunny, and The Tooth Fairy.  They are trusting to a fault - but that is okay, because no one lies.  They see through rose colored glasses, and are quite content in the fantasy of it all.  It's almost like your living in a Disney movie, where the biggest problem of the day is when will the princess get to dance with the prince again.

Meanieville is not so.  It is a dark, scary place, full of icky nasty stuff.  If one of those little people from Fantasyland were to wander over, they would be eaten alive and be used up for everything they have.  In Meanieville, the people of the land tell lies - big old stinking piles of lies.  Lies like "My sister is the model on the back of the portrait package sheet," and "At midnight all of the adults are going to turn into robots and try to eat us," and "I am a vampire, and I will eat you."  And the cute little people from Fantasyland believe it all as truth, naturally, because that is what just they do - they are gullible.  They are tortured by these lies and can't see them for what they are.

This is the line my daughter walks, and I don't know if she can keep it up.  She has already waltz into Meanieville a few times and it has not been pretty.  I would love her to keep a sense of wonder and mystery about the world, while still being able to tell the fact of life - that things aren't always pleasant.  I want her to still believe that when you blow on your birthday candles your wish may come true, but not believe that ghosts are haunting her school just because a friend says so.

Is it too much to ask?  What do I do to help her keep a lookout for those big stinky piles, but yet not become jaded?  Should a seven year old have to even worry about such things?  Or a mother of a seven year old?

Or do I just need to accept that this is life.  Accept that this is what happens when children grow up.  That they need to learn lessons like this first hand.

My hope is that she will learn that while Meanieville is alive and well, you can still visit Fantasyland - and visit it frequently.

Obviously I do.

I'd rather get excited!

I tend to get a little over excited about Disney.  This trip for the Disney Social Media Moms Conference is no different.  Actually, it's probably worse, seeing as how I've never felt the need to color code my attack plan.  Oy vey people, I need help:

My ical layout for the trip.

That is just the tip of the iceberg.  I have my favorite guidebooks (The Unofficial Guide to Walt Disney World and Passporter's Walt Disney World book) all marked up with dog ears and highlighters.  I have all my dinner reservations (ADR's in Disney-speak) written out and stowed away in it's own little folder - along with my outgoing info for Disney's Magical Express pick up service.  It goes on and on, and it's out of control.

Being that their mother is obviously certifiable, my kids tend to get a little excited about Disney too.  It has been pretty manageable this time around - because they only found out 3 weeks before the trip.

( I should interject here that we always have the best intentions of surprising the kids with the trip.  We have done it successfully with smaller trips, but we can never hold in our excitement for Disney, so we always end up spilling the beans.  This can be hard for a kid if you let them know as far out as we have - over 2 months before our first family trip to WDW.)

The problem, then, was how do you keep your kids from going mad with anticipation?  Our solution is a countdown calendar.

The first year we made it a big deal and did a huge scavenger hunt.  We gave them clue cards and had them go searching around the house for the items that matched the clues; sunscreen, a bathing suit, a camera, a disney coloring book, etc.  They were to piece the clues together to figure out what we were doing.  (They were clueless.)  We even took the hunt on over to Grandma and Granddad's house.  (They were one of the clues because they were coming with us.)  To end the hunt, the girls found a personal note from Tinkerbell in my parents mailbox.  She told them how excited she was that they were coming, and gave them a cute little box with cards and stickers so they could make a countdown calendar.

My eldest getting a little cheesy.  We pulled off that day's card, and kept going til they were all gone.

I don't even remember how we told them about it last time, but we did make the calendar together again. This time, I wanted something to be left on the board to look at as we got closer, so we did it a bit differently.  We punched out circles that were glued onto the board and decorated them with stickers, drawings, and photo's of us on our last Disney trip.  Then we added a number that indicated how many more days til the trip.  On top of those circles, we stapled more circles - punched out of pretty scrap paper, with a matching date - and then attached it all to the board.

I don't have a good pic of the bottom circles, so just imagine their awesomeness.

This time we are going high-tech and have downloaded a countdown clock for the computer.  Mac users can try: The Disney Trip Countdown from Apple.  PC users can try one of the many countdown programs available via a google search - including the Intercot Countdown Timer.

These calendars have really thwarted the "Mommmmmmmy, is it time yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet?" questions.

It does not, however, stop them from saying, "Mommmmmmmmmy, I want to go to Disney NOWWWWWWWW!"

But, then again, it doesn't stop me either.

I'd rather be crazy at the grocery store

I would like to officially appologize to anyone who had the missfortune of being in the grocery store with my kids and me this week.  If you are unsure who we were, here is a list of some of the things that were said, to refresh your memory:

"The giant squid packer thing is looking at me.  It's mad at me.  That, or it's looking at the bag roll because they are in love."

"The next person to put thier tounge on someone else gets a time out!"

"Moooommmmmmm, she did "ka ka" in my ear!"

Upon the automatic door not opening for me and the younger daughter, the older daughter says, "It's not opening because it is a judging door and you were not cute enough." (Also recall, later when we were finally - blessedly - leaving, the same older daughter actually got the "judging" door to open for her.  I was told "See mom, I'm cute so it opened.  You weren't.")

 And yes, I was that mom who said "Back away from the candy or I'm going to hit you in the head with these rolls."  And, yes, I was the same mom you caught hitting said girl with said rolls.  But remember, we were all laughing hysterically about it, so don't get too uppity.

I will say, that when you fall down on the job in the parenting field while at the grocery store, the night only goes down hill from there.  Thankfully, we left with a full cart - unescorted, even - but this is what was said after we got in the car, and at home.  It got worse:

"Mommmmmm, my pants fell down and I'm sitting on my butt cheeks."

 (Then the other daughter, in response to the above statement, added...) "If you're happy and you know it clap your butt cheeks."

Later, I was asked, "Can I play with the wine opener?" as if it were an acceptable form of entertainment for anyone other than mommy.

I loved this attempted bribe: "If you give me an Ande's chocolate I'll be less hyper."

"Can everybody be quiet, I'm trying to poo here!" was screamed out from the bathroom.

The most rewarding line: "I challenge you to... a DANCE off!"

"I fly super fast - just like a Chiwawa!"

I will say that this was not a normal grocery trip.  I left smiling, and not stressed out.  Oh, and I normally don't allow that much bathroom humor.  But, sometimes, you just gotta be insane - and let others think what they want - in order to get through the day, and to give your kids some happy, fun memories.

Don't be a judge-a-puss.  You know you sometimes act like an idiot too.  Or you at least want to.

I'd rather give three scoops

My husband is the cool parent.  The easy-going, "aww, let em stay up late to watch Mythbusters," fun parent.  He disciplines too, for sure, and we work well as a team.  But, I think if my kids had to label us, I would be the bossy one, and he would be the fun one.

That sucks sometimes.

I don't mind that they know I mean business when I give them "the look."  They know mom knows - that mom sees all.  That mom will put the smack down if she has too.  Those are good things, but I miss the other stuff sometimes.

Compared to a lot of parents, I'm probably pretty darn fun - I think.  I let them jump on the furniture.  They sometimes get to sleep in, on a school day, just because.  Make crazy food concoctions, as if my kitchen were a laboratory, for the fun of it.

Even still, to them, I am McBossy, and he is McFun.

But....but...I have the ice cream.

I give three scoops.  He gives two.

He lets me win that one.  He points out that "Hey, Mom is the one that hooks you up.  I'm sorry, I can only give you two scoops.  Guess Mom beats me on that."  He probably wants to give them four.  But he doesn't.  He lets me have a beautiful, fun mom moment.

I have the ice cream.  I'm the fun Mom that gives three scoops.