Thursday, December 24, 2009

It's A Christmas Miracle!

She likes him! She REALLY, REALLY likes Santa!!

Merry Christmas!

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Fall Ball

Dylan had his first t-ball game last weekend. What kind of mom would I be if I let the occasion pass without posting some of the highlights?

The proud papa, helping Dylan get ready for the game. It was also Scott's coaching debut... he is on his way to fulfilling a lifelong aspiration of fatherhood by being Dylan's coach.

First at bat.

A hit!

And a run!
Dylan got to be catcher when his team took the field. I'm not sure if he caught one ball, but he sure loved dressing out in all the gear!

...and he looked like the real deal, too!

Saturday, September 19, 2009

The 100th

According to my archives list, this is my 100th post. I have been putting it off because it has proved to be daunting. First of all, it has taken me just over 2 years to make it this far. Most bloggers that I admire passed this milestone well within their first few months of blogging! Second, I'm not really a meme-y kind of girl, yet I don't have an original idea of my own to mark this momentous occasion, so I will do what I have seen other bloggers do since that is why I started blogging in the first place.

So here it goes: 100 random things about me that you could probably care less to know. You already got 1 & 2 in the first paragraph. (Well, 3, if you count the fact that I also mentioned that this is my 100th post. You might not have known that about me before now.)

4. This list will probably never end up being even remotely close to 100. I'm okay with that the same way that I'm okay with taking as long as I have to publish 100 posts.
5. I will be 40 in three months.
6. I remember when 40 seemed OLD.
7. I wish I didn't.
8. Because now I am that OLD.
9. I don't have a "bucket list."
10. I don't really think I will ever have one, because I don't want to end up regretting the things that I couldn't quite cross off.
11. If I did make one, it would include traveling to all of the continents, except for two of them.
12. I would omit the icy, arctic-y ones.
13. I guess technically, I wouldn't have to travel "to" North America since I'm already here, but there are so many parts yet to see.
14. Even though we have decided that our family is complete and we're "done" having kids, I still REALLY want one more.
15. We won't have another one.
16. We are 99.9% assured that after a simple recent procedure, it would be a medical improbability.
17. At least I know that I will be able to enjoy a cocktail (or 13!) on my birthday.
18. With my amazing, complete family.
19. I sometimes regret that I didn't complete a more versatile degree in college than the one I have.
20. I am a teacher.
21. Technically, it's two degrees. I have a master's in education also. It only made me more versatile in that one career though, so it doesn't really count.
22. I have tried working from home since my kids were born.
23. What do you mean I can't earn a salary for educating my own kids?
24. I don't have the CV to support some great work from home freelance opportunity.
25. I would suck at having an actual "job" in my home anyway.
26. I lack the discipline to get things done in a timely, efficient manner that would probably be required in order to actually earn an income doing whatever it is I was doing from my home.
27. Look how long it took me to publish 100 posts and no one's paying me, it's just a hobby.
28. If I had more time to spend doing what I really like to spend my free time doing, I would probably just sleep more.
29. My house might be a little bit cleaner.
30. There might not still be size 3 month clothing in my daughter's dresser drawers.
31. I might have completed a few more projects.
32. I might publish my blog more frequently.
33. I might bake more cookies.
34. I might have a better song selection on my ipod.
35. I might exercise more.
36. I might eat better and plan more healthful meals for my kids.
37. Hopefully, I'd just play more Candy Land or Diego Bingo.
38. But definitely not Chutes and Ladders.
39. What? My kids like games. I play games with them. Does it make me a bad mother that I am picky about which ones I will play? I don't like Chutes and Ladders.
40. I was 6 or 7 when I got the Chicken Pox. My parents had plans to go away for the weekend and at the last minute my mom was scrambling to find family friends to take care of us who's children had already had the Chicken Pox. I remember the oldest daughter of the family where we ended up staying not letting me play Chutes and Ladders because I would get my Chicken Pox all over her game board. So I hate the game. Apparently my little 6-or-7 year old spotted self was not assertive enough to remind the beyoch that the only reason I had pox in the first place was because just a few short weeks prior, I had let her play Chutes and Ladders at my house and her chicken cooties got all over my board. So move over and give me that spinner. Yeah, I'm sure if I'd said that back then I would love to play Chutes and Ladders now. Stupid game.
41. I am drinking wine as I type.
42. Apparently typing while drinking is not so different than talking while drinking. My speech is becoming slurred through my fingertips instead of my mouth.
43. The backspace key is my new best friend.
44. You can't tell how slurry that last sentence just came out because I backspaced right over it.
45. But if I were speaking, you would know that I am well beyond my first or second glass.
46. Don't worry. The kids were in bed a few glasses ago.
47. I'm screwed if they wake up and really need something.
48. Actually, I'll probably care less. They'll be the screwed ones.
49. I did not sign up to single-parent.
50. I hate that about my husband's job most of the time.
51. Thus the need for multiple glasses of wine.
52. We are four days into a nine day absence of Dad in our household.
53. I know.
54. And I am.
55. Grateful.
56. That his job hasn't tanked with the economy. At least he has a job.
57. I'm not complaining, just feeling a little sorry for my lonely, single-mom self.
58. We'll get over it.
59. We always do.
60. Whenever he gets home from a trip, I end up thinking back to the week or so we were on our own and wishing I had been a better, more patient mom to my kids in his absence.
61. Maybe this trip.
62. Maybe we'll go to the zoo tomorrow instead of eating cereal right out of the box while watching cartoons and staying in our pj's until it's lunch time when I realize I have nothing in the house to eat except for cereal right out of the box.
63. Phoenix has a great zoo.
64. I grew up going to that zoo.
65. I am flooded with 39 & 3/4 years of nostalgia every time we walk through that gate.
66. Great. Now I'm back to thinking about when 40 was old.
67. Looking for more wine.
68. Not gonna feel like getting out of bed in the morning.
69. Let alone getting the cereal boxes out for the kids.
70. I might leave a note taped to my bedroom door about leaving me alone and with instructions for the TV remote so they can watch what they want until I feel like getting up.
71. They might figure it out.
72. Dylan read Hop On Pop the other day.
73. Not the whole book, just the title and some of the simpler sentences at the beginning.
74. It brought me to tears.
75. Yes, I just teared up again typing that.
76. Because he's just 4, he should still be little.
77. But he's figuring out reading, and so many other things that big kids do.
78. I might not be ready for him to be that big yet.
79. But I am loving every minute of watching him grow up and become himself.
80. I've made it to #80. That's closer than I thought I'd get before getting bored and hitting publish.
81. Now I'm determined to make it to 100.
82. But it's so late.
83. Note or no note, Sadie will be in my room before 7a.m. with her daily juice request.
84. It would be easy to fix her juice before going to bed so she won't have to ask for it and I won't have to get out of bed to fulfill her request.
85. But then I won't get her to go potty and change into underwear.
86. And she'll probably crawl into bed with me, snuggling up while sipping her juice.
87. And then I'll have to get up anyway because I'll end up laying there in a puddle of spilled juice.
88. And that might make me a little more grumpy than just waging the morning potty battle and rewarding her with juice to begin with.
86. Yeah, I'm still working on my Mom of the Year application.
87. And yes, I am loving every minute of watching her grow up and become herself, too.
88. I just might have a few more gray hairs of her doing than Dylan's.
89. Because she's just 2 but I swear she's going on 17.
90. Strong willed and fiercely independent put it mildly.
91. I'm so proud of her.
92. Of them both.
93. Every moment of every day.
94. I don't remember as a child aspiring to be anything in particular when I grew up.
95. I'm sure at some point I was indoctrinated to respond "a mom."
96. But I don't know that I ever pictured it.
97. Or is it just that the reality of everything that "Mom" encompasses obliterates the memory of anything that could have ever been imagined?
98. I'd like to say that I'm a better person because of my kids.
99. I hope they don't end up saying that they grew up okay in spite of me.
100. It's all a work in progress.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Friendly Relations

The following conversation occurred between my (2 1/2 year old) daughter and myself the other day while we were discussing extended family members and their relationship to her.

Sadie: An-toh Pa-thit (Uncle Patrick) is my.... um.... I don't know.

Me: He's your uncle.

S: Oh, my an-toh. No a-choo-lee I think he's my boy-fend.

Me: No, actually he's your uncle.

S: Oh. I have 2 boy-fends at soo-ool.

Me: Two boyfriends? Who are your boyfriends at school?

S: Um.... Shamus is my boy-fend!

Me: Who's your other boyfriend?

S: Um... Ms. Tistin! (Ms. Kristin, one of her teachers) She's my boy-fend and I'm gonna marry her!

Me: Well, Ms. Kristin is a girl. She could be your friend that's a girl, but she can't be your boyfriend.

S: Oh. O-tay. Tistin is a goll and I am a boy. I can be her boy-fend. I wanna tell her that I will be her boy-fend, o-tay?

Me: Um, okay?

Great. Otay!

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Overheard, Kitchen Version

Dylan: (This one is far into the category of "bragging mom" quotes from her kids.)

Can I have some lemon-lade, please?

(Tastes it, wrinkles his nose, then promptly rejects it.)

It's too tart. (Tart? He's 4. Tart is an impressive word for 4.)


Sadie: (As we're putting the finishing touches on dinner with our backs to the table, which already has salad and bottles of dressing on it.)


(We continue to prepare dinner while an ignored Sadie takes matters into her own hands.)

Daddy! I got A LOT of ranch!

Yes you did, Sadie. Yes, you did.

Monday, August 3, 2009

My Mother Made Me Do It

There are a few things I swore I'd never do to my own kids before I had them. Mostly things that I remember being done to me as a child, and looking back they just seem like, well, bad parenting. Boy, did my kids get lucky today. I think they suffered through all of the above.

1. Try to get my kids to eat foods that they don't want by bribing them with sweets, or something that they would rather eat instead. (As in: if you just even try that one little bite of broccoli, then you can have this entire ice cream cone!) So the message here is that some food that might be really, really good for you doesn't always taste so great, but if you eat it you can reward yourself with this other food that tastes really, really good but isn't really good for you. I see eating disorders in their futures.

2. Bribe my kids to do anything with something. Our latest kick is gum. Dylan used to chew gum occasionally, like when he'd be around his older cousins and wanted to know what it was all about. Sadie recently asked for gum when Dylan got some. The timing was perfect with potty training and it became her reward when she was able to do all of her business in its proper place. Now it's just how I get them to do what I need them to do, like get in the car in the morning so I can get to work on time. They have gum now all. the. time. Soon it's novelty will wear off and I will have to come up with the next great thing. Do I really want them to learn that they should only do something that should be done anyway just because there might be something in it for them? And really, what am I going to do when they just don't want another piece of gum? Mom really needs to get to work, little people!

3. Tell them, "Okay, well I'm leaving now so I guess I'll see you later!" Wrong on so many levels. Just wrong. First of all, do I really want my kids to think that I am the kind of person who would actually leave them behind, should they choose not to follow me when it's time to go? And also, would I really, ever follow through on that threat? Yes, I do believe my children trust me, why do you ask?

So chalk this one up as a stellar day of parenting in our household. Nothing that a few years in therapy can't take care of.

What I really want to know is: When did my mom start teaching parenting classes and why did I think it would be a good idea to sign up for them?

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Overheard from the Little People

It seems like every day I overhear my kids say something that at least makes me laugh out loud, if it doesn't exactly have me rolling on the floor. I always think, "I should write this down somewhere so I don't forget it." But then of course I don't, so I do. Usually it is location humor (you had to be there and hear it first hand for it to actually really be funny), an unintended double entendre (which is only funny because apparently my sense of humor hasn't matured beyond jr. high), or an awww how cute (not really funny, but hey, I'm their mom, everything they do is endearing). Either way, I thought I would give the "installment in a series" approach to blogging a try, and so here is my first attempt at a "quote of the week" as overheard from the little people in my household blog post.

Dylan, said while walking past a store with automatic sliding doors:

Mommy, those doors opened up when I walked past. Those doors thought I wanted to go in there! That's silly!

Sadie, said while gathering an armful of toys to play with:

I got a LOT of balls!

(I warned you it would be a little adolescent-esque. It was really only funny because I had to turn around to see what she was talking about. I laughed when I saw her arms full of actual balls. It was funnier when she said it again as she was trying to take her brother's toy truck away from him. Okay, she didn't really say the last part. But that? Would not only have been funny, but a classic example of the caliber of parenting practices around here. You know, that they've actually heard one of us use that phrase in that context!)

So what funny things have you heard the little people in your life say lately?

Tuesday, July 14, 2009


Back in October, we set out to potty train our not yet two-year-old daughter. I wrote a couple of posts about our attempts. While she clearly wasn't ready back then, she learned all about the potty and how and when and where she might go. Sure enough, she let us know when she was ready and just as surely, somewhere along the way we've been able to consider ourselves the parents of a fully potty trained two-year-old. One day we were leaving the house fully stocked with wipes, lots of extra clothes, bags for wet and soiled clothes, pull-ups in case we ran out of extra clothes, and towels for the car seat. The next we left empty handed because we knew that accidents were a thing of the past. Being the proud owners of TWO potty trained children is very liberating. We leave the house unencumbered with diaper bags. We laugh at how we used to have to plan for potty emergencies and/or accidents. We wonder at how we went from training mode and several outfits a day to "done" and the same outfit from morning til bedtime. We have to stop to think about the last time she even asked for a treat for using the potty. And we scream at the top our lungs: WE ARE NEVER, EVER BUYING DIAPERS AGAIN, FOREVER AND EVER AMEN!

But the truth is that we're not really done. We never had to night-train Dylan. When we started potty-training him, he would wear a pull-up to bed. He just never woke up wet. So we quit buying them and he slept in underwear from then on. I can probably count on one hand the number of times that he has gotten up to go potty in the middle of the night (the point being that he GETS UP) and he's actually wet the bed maybe once or twice. He's been sleeping in underwear for at least 2 years.

Sadie, not so much. She wears a pull-up to bed and always wakes up wet. She's never woken and wanted to use the potty. I am at a complete and utter loss to know when she will be ready for underwear at night. Will she just stop peeing in her sleep? Will she start waking up to go? If I put her in underwear will she learn, or will I just end up doing a lot of extra laundry?

Apparently, it's not my choice to make. My not at all willful and stubborn Sadie has decided that she is no longer going to wear a pull-up to bed. Okay, she's ready, I think. She let us know she was ready for the rest of it, she's ready to take this on. Great, we'll try underwear. Here's how it's gone so far:

Night 1 - Around midnight, I heard her crying that she needed to go potty. (Midnight crying "I have to go potty" in Sadie's world actually means, "I went potty in my bed and I'm wet!") Easily solved with a towel over the wet spot and a change of clothes. Except she didn't go back to sleep for an hour and a half and got up 3x in that 90 minutes to go potty. But woke up dry the next morning! I, however, woke up feeling like I'd only slept for about 90 minutes the entire night.

Night 2 - Around midnight, I heard her cry out in her sleep. When I went to check on her, she was still sleeping but wet. Hmm... do I wake her to take care of the wet, and risk a repeat of last night, or do I let her sleep and bathe her in the morning? Mother of the Year, here! I let her sleep. (And maybe, possibly did a quik once over with a diaper wipe in lieu of an actual bath.)

Night 3 - She decided to wear a pull-up, which ended up soaking wet, but yea! I didn't have to launder sheets the next morning and air out the mattress. (And we both got a full night's sleep!)

Night 4 is tonight. She is in underwear and went potty 3x before finally staying in bed to sleep. I am planning to wake her to go once more before I go to bed. (PLEEEEASE, please, please, go right back to sleep!) We'll see how that goes.

I know it has only been a few days, but I'm kinda thinking she might not quite be ready for the underwear at night thing. I've never done this before so I don't know how I'll know when she is ready. Do I put my foot down and insist that she wear a pull-up to bed (I am the mom, right?) until I feel more equipped to deal with this, or do I let her keep wearing underwear and hope she'll figure it out?

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Mission: Playlist

I've been known to write a post or two about my running (or lack thereof). Between the heat, my job, 2 kids and a travelling husband, running has been almost non-existent in my life lately. My biggest excuse this time around has been that I need a good playlist to motivate me to get out of bed early enough to beat the heat and be done in time to get a shower in, get 2 kids ready, and make it to work. The music that had been on my ipod was downloaded a couple of years ago as I was getting ready for Sadie to be born. At least it was all uplifting, but a little too mellow to really get my feet moving and blood pumping. Being the technical wizard that I am, I never remember how to load and unload my shuffle, and when I finally sat down to try to see if I could figure it out, the cable malfunctioned.

In spite of a lack of music, I've made it out of bed and out the door before 5:00 for a run the last two mornings. And the entire time I run, I have this imaginary playlist going through my head. But since I only remember parts of songs, and those are way out of tune as I render them, it hasn't exactly been the ideal substitute. So I got a new cable today and was able to sit down and load some stuff on my ipod that I think will get me up tomorrow (and hopefully beyond!) morning. The mix is eclectic, to say the least. Here's a sample of what it includes: The Cure, David Cook, The Go Go's, Journey, Modern English, Jason Mraz, Ryan Adams, Foo Fighters, Fountains of Wayne, Nirvana, "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" by that Hawaiian guy, the Beatles, some Lyle Lovett and Dwight Yokum, the Police, and a vast assortment of my favorites from various TV and movie soundtracks along with some Spoon, Cake, and Nirvana. Oh yeah, and as a tribute to all of the fallen pop culture icons of my youth over the past week, I had to include some Michael Jackson.

What do you think? What's on your get-your-feet-moving-and-heart-pumping playlist?

*In light of the fact that it is nearing 11:00pm as I hit the publish button on this post and put the finishing touches on my perfect-for-running playlist, it's safe to say that my new shuffle mix will not be road-tested any time soon, as in Running Tomorrow Morning = Mission: Impossible!*

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Tuesday, June 23, 2009


Bedtime with my 2 1/2 year old is challenging, to say the least. We moved Dylan to a big boy bed just before Sadie was born when he was about 22 months, because we didn't want to get another crib. And he was just ready. He never got up after being tucked in for the night. We moved Sadie to a bed at about the same age because she was beginning to try to climb out of her crib and we feared for her safety. This didn't bode well for her readiness to stay in bed for the night, and she's been pushing the limits ever since.

Not that we are perfect parents by any stretch of the imagination, but I think we've done a pretty good job through trial and error of making the boundaries very consistent so that once it is bedtime, she has no excuses to get back up. We have a story before bed. We brush teeth before bed. Potty time happens before bed and there's no getting up for the potty after bed. (For the record, before reporting me to CPS for abuse and neglect in not allowing my daughter to urinate after she's tucked in and possibly causing her to have multiple and severe UTI's, she still wears a Pull-up to bed and she has NEVER. ONCE. ACTUALLY. PEED. when we have let her get up to use the toilet after bed.) We are very clear with her about that after this and this and this happen, then it's time for bed. No room for ifs, ands, or buts, and for the most part, she adheres to the confines of her bed when it is time, but not without her fair share of whining.

I am all about giving her choices at bedtime so that she feels she has some control over the situation. "Do you want to brush teeth before or after you have your story?" "Do you want to get a drink of water now or after you go potty?" "Do you want to turn off the light or do you want Mommy to?" "Should I stay for 1 song or 2 (on her CD of lullaby music that she likes to listen to as she falls asleep)?" Of course she always says "2" which usually morphs into 3 or 4 by the time all is said and done. Because of everything that she can sneak into the equation in spite of all of the boundaries and consistency and choices. Like, wait, I need to give you another hug and a kiss; I want a kiss on this cheek, too; I need some dreams; more dreams; more dreams; scratch my back; kiss me again; I want some water. But especially the whine. "STAAAAAAAAAY," she will moan with her pathetically tired little voice that takes nerves of steel to resist.

I resist it for many reasons. I resist it because I am selfish about MY time after my kids have gone to bed and I simply want to leave her room and get on with it. I have books to read, TiVo to catch up on, blog posts to write, projects to finish, and sleep to get to. I resist because I believe that being firm with her boundaries will help her become more confident and independent, and somehow I have failed as a mother that she needs me too much and can't fall asleep without me next to her. I resist because I don't like to hear the whining and I'm afraid that giving in to it is teaching her that that's how to get what she wants. But sometimes she just needs me. And so I stay.

Tonight was one of those nights. As I was feeling frustrated at myself for giving in and not just a little manipulated into staying, I laid next to her gently rubbing her back. I watched her eyes drift shut and her face settle into a sleepy, contented smile, and my eyes drank in the perfection of her features with awe and wonder. She turned her face from me and I stroked her silky soft hair and inhaled its little-girl-sweet-mixed-with-outdoors-and-sunshine scent. And I stayed and breathed it all in, and stayed and breathed. And wondered why I'd ever considered it a chore to stay.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

If the road to hell is paved with good intentions...

...then the floors there are covered with well meaning, cream colored, low pile carpeting.

We moved into our house in 2002. The carpeting we still have now was here then. The owners previous to us had lived here a couple of years and hadn't replaced the carpet either. So we figure it's at least 10 years old. Two previous owner's dogs, our 2 dogs, a cat, 2 spit-uppy babies and potty-trained kids, many glasses of wine and apple juice later, the flooring has seen better days. It has gotten to the point that not only are we embarrassed to invite new people who've never seen the place over, we no longer entertain previous guests. We were reluctant to host a birthday party of four-year-olds because of the state of our flooring. (Go ahead and double click that photo for the full effect of the grossness that is our carpet.)

In the midst of a small remodeling project a couple of years ago, I realized that under our unsightly carpet, we had this pretty decent brown polished concrete floor. I have been thinking about it ever since. When I finally got Scott to admit that he too was embarrassed for the four- year-olds to play on our floor and that concrete might just be more desirable in the interim until we can afford to do what we really want to do, I saw an opportunity. While he tentatively admitted that might prefer the concrete to the carpet, he was unwilling to commit to a project involving removing the carpet and restoring the concrete. He was out of town last week, so I tore up all of the carpet in our living room and hallway. I hauled it to the dump and removed all of the tack strips around the rooms. I had every intention of getting those floors looking as pristine as possible before his return, but it just didn't happen. I didn't tell Scott I was doing it and I didn't want him to have to come home to this:

The floor is a little covered with glue and paint right now and I have been using this pretty fumy solvent to get it cleaned up. I can only take it in small doses and I really shouldn't be using it around my kids, so this project could drag on for a while. Also, the perimeter of the floor has holes from where the tack strips were nailed down. Here's the gist of the note I left him outside the door to read when he got back in town before he came in and saw the mess:

Hey Baby,
I really missed you, but could you be gone longer so that I could get my project done? I meant well when I started it, so please don't be mad. The kids were well taken care of and they are happy and healthy. That makes up for a lot, doesn't it? Just remember that tomorrow is our anniversary! And now at least you don't have to be embarrassed about the carpet anymore!
Love you,

So the floor isn't much to look at now, but he wasn't mad and we're both looking forward to continuing the project and getting on with our carpet-free life. See how pretty my floors will be when they're all cleaned up?

By the way, I really wanted to do my family room as well, but as I was removing the hallway carpet, I discovered that the floor in that room is covered with old school linoleum. I'm gonna need a lot more solvent!

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Not exactly what I thought I was committing to at the time.

Yesterday was Scott's and my 5th wedding anniversary. We have been through some stuff since we've been together: a few surgeries, selling a house, buying a house, moving, waiting and waiting for him to finally propose, planning a wedding, getting married, a couple more surgeries and two kids. Having kids. There's something that absolutely nothing that has happened to you in your life before can prepare you for how much it will change everything. Yet here we are; together, happy, and healthy.

Maybe you thought from reading the title of this post that it would be about how marriage just isn't living up to all that I thought it would be. You'd be wrong. It's about my dinner last night.

We went to Quiessence, a rustic yet elegant restaurant located on a farm in the foothills of South Mountain. It specializes in unique flavors prepared from local, organically grown ingredients and you know you are going to drop some bones when you make a reservation for dinner. But what the hay... we were celebrating! We prepared to have our palates wowed to soften the blow to the bank account.

Our meal started with a complimentary champagne toast. So far, so good. They were out of our first choice of wine, but we were pleasantly surprised by the local Arizona wine they brought us instead. From Cochise County, no less. Who knew?

So we're into the bottle of wine, down the starter fruit and cheese platter, and then came the salads. I had ordered the calamari salad. (I know. The emphasis on "local" fare kinda goes out the window when calamari in Arizona enters the picture.) I've never raved about calamari, but the menu description of the salad had my mouth watering. I had only ever had it prepared one way: breaded and deep fried. A little a la T.G.I. Friday's for our location, but it was described on the menu as fried. So I guess I was expecting something pretty close to what is pictured below. A salad with a few deep fried calamari rings tossed in and classed up a little to match the sophistication of the evening.

Um, the calamari in my salad may or may not have been fried. It certainly wasn't breaded and it was most definitely not lacking tentacles. Long, curled up, covered with suction-thingy tentacles. I didn't eat a bit of it. The rest of the salad, as promised, was mouth watering. I ate every bit of it. And was left with a pile of squid limbs on my plate. Feeling a little embarrassed by having ordered the calamari salad and not eating any calamari, I considered wrapping it in a napkin and stuffing it in my purse. Purse not big enough. Scott had only eaten half of his (not calamari) salad, so we hid my pile of limbs under his untouched greens. Like they weren't gonna discover them and laugh their butts off at me in the kitchen anyway. Whatever. It was a nice place. It's not like they were going to spit in my grilled radicchio or something.

The rest of our dinner was fabulous. The evening ended up being a fitting tribute to five years of marriage with two kids to boot. Nice surprises, laughter and silliness, some tentativeness at not really being sure what we'd gotten ourselves into, taking things in stride, and just plain enjoying where we're at, even with a few unexpected limbs thrown into the mix.

Happy Anniversary, Baby! I would cala-"marry" you all over again!

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Take Me Out to a Ballgame

It is probably safe to say that baseball will always be a part of our family life.

Scott grew up playing Little League and then through High School, played in college and has spent most of his adult life playing in some sort of baseball league. He now eagerly awaits his chance to coach Little League, should Dylan show an interest in playing when he's old enough.

I have learned things about baseball since we started dating that I hadn't even known existed before. Like, what's a Slugging Average? Who knew that could matter so much?!

Waiting for opening day of spring training is like going to sleep the night before Christmas around here (for some members of this household, anyway).

Did you just feel that gust of air? That was Scott letting out a sigh of relief that his son seems to have taken an early liking to his favorite sport.

Dylan wants to go to baseball games and watch them on TV. He wants to stop by the park on a Saturday morning to watch the big kids playing. His knowledge of what is going on during a game already surpasses mine. He prefers baseballs, bats, and gloves to other sporting equipment and typical toys that most boys choose to play with. He dresses himself and Sadie up in Scott's old jerseys. He is right-handed, yet naturally takes a left-handed batting stance, thanks to persistent coaching from dad. (Don't ask me why. I guess it will be important later. See? He does know more already than I ever will.) He talks about getting to play on a team when he turns 5. (Did I mention how fuh-reaking adorable, not to mention more American-than-apple-pie he looks in a baseball cap? See? I can teach him important stuff about baseball, too!)

In the meantime, we all get to play baseball with him in the backyard. We take turns being the pitcher, catcher, and batter. Lately, after attending a few spring training and regular season games so far this year, the staging of backyard baseball games has some new additions.

First, before the game starts, one of us gets a turn to sing the "Nationally Adams." Later, after we've been playing a while, we take a break to sing every one's favorite baseball tune. You may have heard it before; it goes like this: "Take me out to the ballgame. Take me out with the crowd. Buy me some peanuts and crack me up!" Because baseball is just that funny!

Hope you are spending the season enjoying your favorite pastime with your favorite people!

Monday, June 8, 2009

What Really Matters

Well, it seems I've decided to end blogging hiatus #39 with a little post. I've missed you, internet!

The other day as I was completing some mundane task or other, my 4 year old made a comment to me that made me laugh out loud. And all of a sudden, I began thinking in blog posts again for the first time in a really long time. You bloggers out there know what I am talking about... you start to turn little every day occurrences into funny stories that would read well if you put such and such spin on them. And thus, you blog. So here I am contemplating the blog that I have been neglecting because my son made me laugh and I turned it into a funny story, which I will tell you later this week. Right now, I am blogging about blogging.

I know, boring. But it is better than not blogging.

So I started thinking about how long it had been since I had even thought about my blog, let alone tried to blog about anything. And so then I started thinking about why and what has gotten in the way. And I realized that I have made so many things matter too much that really don't matter at all because all of a sudden I have a real job and I go to work every day OUTSIDE OF MY OWN HOME and all of a sudden I am relevant beyond my own household. And I made that matter more than anything else because I was relevant. Outside of my own household. But I became irrelevant in my household which meant that I really had nothing to blog about because I wasn't focusing on what was happening here. So I'm still at the J-O-B but realizing it's just not that important, and I'm getting back to thinking about and doing the things that matter the most. Because when I neglect my family and household, I really have nothing to say that matters. And that made me think that what I am putting most of my energy into isn't really that important after all. No matter how relevant it might make me outside of my own household.

So whether you've missed me or not, I am back to blogging. I might not have anything that interesting to say, but what I do have to say matters to me, so I'll put it out there anyway. Happy reading!

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

I want it all.

I decided to check in with the blogosphere and realized more than two weeks have passed since last posting, and my last posts were about Maddie. While I am still finding myself at a loss for words when I think about that tragedy, what I am finding myself truly at a loss for is time. Where do I find it? I am having a hard time finding that work/life/family balance since going back to work full time in January. When I do have down time, I just want to sleep. And then I wake up at ungodly hours like 4:30a.m. unable to return to sleep with all I have to get done flying around in my head. See? Here I am at 5a.m. I know I should be trying to squeeze in a few more moments of sleep because it's going to be a long day. Or packing lunches. Or gathering towels and bathing suits for swim lessons later. Yet I'm here writing this post just so I can say I blogged today and it hasn't been that long since I posted, and I deserve to go to BlogHer, maybe, next year.

All I really want to know right now, all you working moms out there: How do you do it?

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

In Memory


I logged on to post last week, trying to make good on my commitment to nurture this hobby of mine, but haven't been able to type a single word. Each time I approached the internet, all of my words were washed away with tears, tears shed for a little girl that I never knew, and for her parents whom I've never met. I wasn't going to do this post because I don't know them. How could my words really matter in this time of what I can only imagine is engulfing them in grief and sorrow? But I couldn't write anything else, because the enormity of the loss of little Maddie makes nothing else matter.

So I am posting this today with sorrow for Mike and Heather, and with gratitude that I am able to hold my children close to me, and for the opportunities I yet have to look at the world through their eyes, to witness daily the miracle of them growing and becoming the people they are meant to be.

Mike and Heather, I am so, so sorry for your loss. From day one, your story has not been an easy one to tell. I appreciate every moment that I was able to stop your blog by for updates and stories that filled me with joy and wonder at the miracle that was your daughter. A simple thank you cannot begin to express the gratitude I feel that you have had to courage to share your story, Maddie's story with the world. Everyone who knew of your beautiful little girl will forever be touched by her life and by her passing.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

To BlogHer, Or Not To BlogHer? Is there really any question?

So I registered for BlogHer '09. Yea!, right? But, you know, with the economy the way it is, and spending money on needs, not wants right now, it just seems a little indulgent. I already paid my conference fee, but then there's getting to Chicago, paying for a hotel and having fun while I'm there. I mean, on the one hand it's not like I will ever be the "it" blogger, or write professionally; I don't do any kind of product reviews or look to generate revenue through my blog. It's just a hobby. And I don't know ANYONE who will be there except I read their (amazing) blogs and maybe they will notice me over here in my little corner of the blogosphere waving. Oh yeah, that's me, hi.

And then there's the fact that someone is bound to call IPS (Internet Protective Services) and report my ass for the profound neglect that I have inflicted upon my blog. I mean, how much time do I really spend with it lately? Updating twice a month (if that, recently) isn't exactly quality time. It just took me 3+ hours to catch up reading the blogs I follow. What kind of bloggy friend is that? Jeez, I barely have time as it is for the 27 hours of tivo that I have to watch each week. Who needs to fix dinner and bathe the kids? Mama needs to watch some Must See TV and do her a little blogging! Priorities, people!

On the other hand, my blog is the one creative outlet in an otherwise completely-devoted-to-my-real-responsibilities life. It's getting back to my writing roots, which I foolishly brushed aside somewhere along the way without a second thought at the time. What price do you put on that? At what point does the effort I put into reading blogs that I enjoy and keeping up my own blog cross the line from healthy interest to obsession? And does it warrant a trip to Chicago this summer for BlogHer? (Did I mention my own vacation, by myself, without kids or husband? Yea, me!)

I have always kinda sucked at nurturing friendships in my life. Apparently this goes for any relationship, not just the people kind. My blog life has been suffering since jumping into new responsibilities with a job outside of my home. And I miss my blog life. Even though it's just me over here in my little corner waving sheepishly, it has so much potential. I used to read my faves every day. I was getting to know you. I was less timid about leaving comments, letting you know I was hanging around. But then I started coming around less frequently, and putting myself out there only every once in a while. Who hangs on for that?

It comes down to this: I can sell my conference pass and forget about going to Chicago. No big deal. Maybe next year. Or I can go this year. I can get motivated to nurture my blog relationships and work on connecting with other bloggers. Me being part of the blogging community might not matter to ANYONE else other than myself. Being connected to something greater than oneself is pretty powerful. But is it worth the guilt that this trip might be a little too self-indulgent when times are calling for restraint?

That is the question.

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Now You Are FOUR!

(A week late, but better than never.)

Long gone the cuddly baby days

replaced with all your little boy ways.

First one, then two, next three, now four!

"Hooray!" you shout, "Today, I'm 4!"

Riding a bike, even roller skating,

putting out fires and lots of pretend-making.

Baseball, singing, climbing, swinging,

Laughing, growing, learning, being.

Becoming you, changing fast,

before we know it another year will have passed.

Today as you're four you should know we're so glad,

our hearts burst with pride that we're your Mom and Dad!

Happiest birthday, and have an amazing year, Dylan!

Mom and Dad

Sunday, March 1, 2009

All the cool kids have 'em

The other day Dylan got a hold of a dead Blackberry in his preschool classroom. He decided it was his for the day and carried it around in his pocket. His teacher let me know after school how useful it was to him.

He had several random phone conversations throughout the day.

On their way to music class, he asked everyone to hold on a second and announced that he had to switch the phone to vibrate.

During music class, he pulled the phone out to view the text message that his dad had sent him.

Giving it up at the end of the school day was a tough sell, since he had scheduled a conference call with some colleagues.

Likely gift for his impending 4th birthday? Um, no. First of all, I didn't know he even knew about all those cell phone functions, let alone how to use them. Second, he can't quite even really read a text yet.

But it got me thinking about technological advances since I was a kid. You know, a la all those emails going around titled "You know you were a kid in the seventies/eighties if..." you remember things like the VHF dial on the TV or how to actually use a rotary phone. And wondering about what kinds of gadgets will be obsolete by the time my kids are my age. And at what age is it okay for a kid to get a cell phone, or will they even be around by the time mine "need" one?

So tell me, what is your favorite obsolete item from childhood? What current technology can't you or your kids live without?

Thursday, February 26, 2009

How I Lost My Mom-of-the-Year Award, Chapter 378

The following conversations occurred in my household a few evenings ago.


We were having dinner and Sadie grabbed the salt shaker. "Oh shit!" I yelled, as she proceeded to dump a pile of salt on her plate before I could grab it away from her. A few moments later, she knocked over her cup, spilling milk across the table. "Oh shit," she yelled.


Later the same evening, I was trying to corral the kids out of the house to go watch Scott's softball game. It was the end of a very long day (still getting used to the work and day care routine - how long do I get to use that excuse for?) and I will be the first to admit that I was far from in my best parenting frame of mind. In a last ditch effort to please-OMG-can-we-just-be-in-the-car-and-driving-for-the-love-of-all-that-is-good-and-I-cannot-be-patient-for-one-second-longer, I screamed out to the heavens, "Just get in the fucking car already!" Moments later as Sadie climbed into her car seat, Dylan noticed that her shoe had fallen off. "Get your fucking Croc," he told her.


Oh shit, but we are so fucked. Do I get any points for the fact that at least they are using the words in the proper contexts?

Wednesday, February 11, 2009


I had to parallel park my car last night. I hadn't parallel parked since 2001.* You can get by just fine in this metropolis without ever having to parallel park. You don't even have to do it to pass your driving test for a license. I chose to take that parking spot because it was right outside the garage that would have charged me $2 an hour to park. It was the only available, free-of-charge spot.

I had to rack by brain for a few moments before I attempted. Is it ease in front ways from the back, or is it back in from the front? Oh yeah, it must be back in from the front, which is why I avoid parallel parking like the plague. I really suck at backing in. Oh well, here goes nothing.

I pulled up next to the car in front of the empty spot, threw the car into reverse, and started backing in. Piece of cake, right? Oh GOD this is why I NEVER, EVER parallel park. Because I can never just ease right into the spot. I know I have room. I saw the space. I know how big my car is. I can do this. No I can't. Put it in park. Let me just get out and double check how much room I have in front and behind me. Okay, I'm definitely good. I'll scoot right in there, no problem. Wait. Didn't that car just drive past a moment ago? Did he turn around? Is he waiting for me to FAIL in my attempt to park the car? OMG! He is circling and waiting for me to give up so he can get my spot! OH NO HE IS NOT GOING TO GET THIS SPOT!

So yeah, it took me about 20 minutes of back and forth easing, getting out of the car more than once to visualize my position to finally get it, but I parallel parked my car last night. And I am sure that another 8 years will have to pass for me to do it again. But I'm almost certain I heard applause as I walked away from the car clicking it locked with the remote. What do you know? My circling vulture turned into a cheerleader.

This post was going to be meaningful, like about how parallel parking is some sort of metaphor for my life, or motherhood, or whatever it is I'm doing here. How it is this constant seemingly futile inching back and forth while gaining no ground with vultures circling, waiting for me to fail so they can say, "I told you so!" And in the end I somehow pull it off. Small little victories every day that someone, or no one, may notice, but that give me a tiny glimpse of insight into the fact that I might just be doing something okay. But take from it what you want. Maybe it is just a silly story about how I am afraid to attempt things that are difficult for me, like parallel parking, so I wait 8 years to try again and miss out on all that satisfaction that comes with accomplishing a small, simple task that should be easy but somehow isn't. Hmmm...

*My 2001 story is pretty similar, except I had a friend in the car with me "coaching" me through it. I ended up with a bruise on my arm from when she suddenly remembered the proper car positioning for a successful parallel park and punched me. And there was no applause that time, just angry, screeching tires. But how I remember it was 2001 is because the Diamondbacks had just won the world series and we headed to the ballpark after work to buy official MLB merchandise. You do kinda have to know how to parallel park to get anywhere in downtown Phoenix where the ballpark is. Which is why I avoid the area unless my husband is driving. And why it has been eight years. Just one more reason to hail the advent of the light rail route through the city!

Monday, February 9, 2009

What a Croc

My kids have long been fans of the Croc. I have long been a fan of the Crocs for my kids. (Well, not actual Crocs, just the knock-offs that Target sells. Because I am NOT gonna spend $29.99 for a pair of foam rubber, made in China shoes that my kids'll outgrow in 2 months.) They are easy to get on and off and eliminate a huge part of the getting-dressed-and-out-of-the-house battle every day.

I have lingered on the idea of getting some for myself, but just can't get over that I don't like the way they look on my feet. And that they are so trendy. I haven't let myself think about how comfy they might be because I didn't want to actually have a pair to claim as my own.

And then I discovered the Croc outlet and all my will power to resist is gone. Because ohmygodbuttheyaresofreakingcomfyIneverwanttotakethemoff. Ever. And it's the outlet. Most pairs are $14.99, and they are all buy-one-get-one 50% off. Which makes them only $7.50. Cheaper than the knock-offs at Target. So this weekend I replaced Dylan's worn out fakes with an actual pair, Sadie got a pair of flower-printed light blue maryjanes to add to her stash (Grandma and Poppa sent the pink pair for her birthday). And yes, I even got a pair for myself. It was all I could do to pry them off of my feet to take this picture. I'm afraid that I am ruined for real shoes for the rest of my life. My poor kids never stood a chance. They have so young been corrupted by a mom who easily succumbs to peer pressure and buys them trendy (but comfy!) shoes. At least their feet will feel really, really good.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

My guilt runneth over

I recently (meaning within the past 2 weeks) went back to work after being a SAHM since Dylan was born. The situation could not be more ideal... I am working right where Dylan goes to preschool. I (supposedly) work 5-6 hours a day. I am not paying for daycare. I am absolutely head over heels in love with the care providers charged with my children and they are happy there.

All that being said, it hasn't been an easy adjustment for any of us. I have never in my entire life before last Monday had to be anywhere on any sort of time schedule with two kids in tow. Out the door with some semblance of put togetherness and lunches for the kids and me packed. Out the door and on time every day. My kids have never been in daycare and the days seem endless to them. They weren't napping very well and bedtimes have been just short of disastrous.

I am trying to keep it together for all of us. I have gotten myself up early to get ready and pack lunches so that by the time the kids get up I can devote all my energy to getting them ready and (hopefully) prevent losing my patience. They have never seen me cry as I leave them at the door of their daycare rooms. We do fun mommy and kid stuff together when my workday is done. I tell them that I am so proud of what grown up kids they are to go to daycare because mommy needs to work. All the while I am so close to tears I can hardly keep them at bay in front of the kids any more. But I'm keeping it together.

So how my precious Dylan had the insight to say what he said to me this morning as we were driving to daycare is beyond me. Like he knew it's been hard on me even though I am trying not to let it show. Like he knew I needed him to tell me that everything is okay and I am being a good mom anyway. Like he's just a great kid, a great brother yet such a typical little boy. He said, "Mommy? Know what the best part of my day at daycare is? After nap cause we go outside and Sadie's out there too and I get to see her. That makes me really happy. Also when you put spicy chips (Doritos) in my lunch."

So I will continue to wage war with my guilt and I know that eventually we will find the right balance for us. My house needs to be cleaned, I haven't vacuumed for two (eeeww!!) weeks, there are dishes in the sink, and clean laundry is scarce around here these days. I am not doing what needs to be done, but I am doing what I need to do. I am holding my kids more, playing with them more, reading to them more, really talking with them, and making sure that they KNOW they are the most important thing to me, even though we aren't spending as much time together. So yeah, we'll figure it all out, just as long as I never run out of Doritos.

(And yeah, I'm crying right now. Cried through composing this whole post. It's okay. They're asleep so they will never know.)

(And also yeah? I know I am blogging right now instead of doing what needs to be done.)

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

You know your parenting skills may be lacking when...

the minimum wage paid Target employee tells you that you should really make sure that your children are properly secured into the cart. The minimum wage paid, pimply faced, cocky teenage red shirt khaki pants wearing, scanner thingy toting, young enough to be my cocky teenager. Yes, he did.


I guess he told me. Moments after my encounter with said employee, I rounded the corner where I failed to heed the warning of the yellow "slippery when wet" sign. That sucker WAS slippery... butt planting on the ground and nearly toppling my cart in the process slippery. Yes I did. It's a darn good thing my improperly buckled children were holding on for dear life to their Icees. (It's how we get things done around here. They get a treat and slurp away happily in the cart while I get to shop. Everyone leaves the store happy, if just a tad sticky, over-sugared and sometimes possibly overdrawn.)

I wonder if pimple-face has stopped laughing yet.

I need to find a new Target.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

On Becoming Two

Every cherished moment lived and loved,

as we watch you grow and become your own little person

we stop to look, to take a breath, and can't help but gasp

in awe of the precious baby you once were

and wonder at the amazing child you are.

Happy, happy birthday sweet, beautiful girl.

You are so Sadie, our Sadie.

We can hardly wait to see

what the next year of your life has in store!

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Photo finishes and other things I learned about racing

So I ran the P.F. Chang's Rock and Roll Half Marathon on Sunday. I finished! I am not a very fast runner and never will be. I came in under my goal of three hours, at 2:53. Considering I wasted about 25 minutes waiting to use every port-a-john on the course between miles 1 and 7 (too much coffee at the start?), I am very happy with my time. And hey, I got the same exact medal as the guy that came in first.

After crossing the finish line, there was a runner-secure area. Someone handed me a medal, someone else water and then I was shuffled here and there to get an official finish line photo taken. Everything was all a little blurred through the euphoria of finishing the run and the anxiety of searching the crowd for my friends and family. I was a somewhat dazed, to say the least. Anyway, the finish photos were posed in front of a logo'd backdrop right before exiting the racers-only area. Apparently, the race number must show in the pics so that they can identify the runners and market them online later. I had my number pinned on my back. The photog asked me to turn around and strike a pose. I thought he would just snap the number and then take a real shot, so that my picture could later be identified because it would be next in the cue to the one with my number. That made sense to me. So I turned around with my backside to the camera and I heard, "Click. Next, please." But wait, that's not my real photo, is it? You're gonna let me do it again, aren't you? "Nope, next please." Needless to say, I will not be purchasing my finish line photos! Next time, I guess I will pin my number to the front of my shirt. I may never purchase the official race sanctioned photos, but at least I won't make a complete ass of myself in the photo area.


I discovered why live blogging by runners during events will never really catch on. Here is a sampling of the texts I was sending during my run:

mile 1 have stopps to pee

peing agaan


stopps to pi agin

jsut passed h alfway peeng againslc.

at galvin and priestf (in response to the question where was I? There is no such intersection!)

less tladjfna 2 lflsdkjft

And now my cell phone seems to be shorting out. I wonder if the dried, salty sweat stains all over it have anything to do with that.


My kids were darn cute rockin' out and cheering me on between miles 11 and 12.


The race was four days ago now and it still hurts to stand up. But I ran 13.1 miles. Yes I did! And next year I'm going for the full 26.2.

Monday, January 12, 2009

Yeah, I taught her that.

The other day, I was driving with Sadie in the car. We were nearly in an accident, although it would have only ended up being a small fender-bender.

I had just entered the left-hand turn lane (completely within my right-of-way) and a jerk in front of me to the right decided to swing on over. I had to slam on the brakes and swerve left (potentially into oncoming traffic) to avoid being hit. I laid on the horn as I felt the surge of adrenaline.

You know that moment when you are in the midst of protecting yourself and your loved ones from perceived danger and you feel that rush of energy? When your heart starts racing and every ounce of your good sense and judgement are thrust into getting out of danger? That moment when you are just starting to realize that the situation has been averted and you are desperately trying to regain your composure so that you can appropriately answer the "whys" coming from the almost two year old in the back seat? Do you know which moment I am talking about? It was in that moment that Sadie and I had the following conversation:

SADIE: What, Mommy, what?

ME: That guy was driving like an ASSHOLE! That's what!

S: Asshole, Mommy? Asshole?

ME: Um, yeah, baby, that's what I said.

S: (proudly) Oh, asshole!

(Repeatedly bangs head against steering wheel in defeat.)

Saturday, January 10, 2009

The New Do

Due to an overwhelming response, but mostly because of my own personal preference, we went with the no-bangs-bob.

Hair-cut day was an smashing success, as my little Sadie was quite the pampered princess. Yea! She is looking forward to a long career of salon visits.

Most importantly, everyone (especially Dad!) was very pleased with the results. Here are a couple shots of Sadie showing off her sassy new style:

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

I know that I have not posted to my blog for *aack* nearly two weeks, so I do not deserve any feedback whatsoever. But help a girl out and maybe I will feel encouraged to stick to my resolution of blogging more consistently!

I am probably setting myself up for some sort of catastrophic adolescence with my daughter here, but so far I consider myself lucky as the mom of a little girl who lets me indulge in girly things with her. She is all about playing with my make up brushes as she watches me get ready in the mornings, putting on "lipstick" (I swear I only let her use clear balm. REALLY!), letting me paint her little toenails pink, and wearing my heels (the one pair I actually own) around the house. And oh, her hair. She is all about the hair. If I don't make a move to get out the comb and the case full of hair doodads as we are getting dressed each day, SHE WILL REMIND ME. She asks me to put styling products in it. She wants barrettes and rubber bands all over. She lets me do whatever I want to her hair. I have put curlers in it to make her a Shirley Temple look-a-like. I even get to french braid it. She sits still the whole time and asks me for more.

The problem is, I desperately want to cut her hair. She's had one haircut, about a year ago, and just the bangs. Now her bangs are grown out to chin length. I really want to get all of her fine baby ends chopped off and have all of it cut to the length of her old bangs.

I thought the hard part would be convincing Scott to let me get her hair cut short. He's on board, so I called and made an appointment for later this week, before he can change his mind. Now I'm the one who's having a little remorse. Is shorter, easier hair going to "cure" her of wanting me to style it in cute, girly ways?

Anyway, I am posting a couple of celebrity kid styles for you to help me choose:

We can go with the Suri Cruz look, with bangs. Personally, I am not a fan of the bangs. I think they are to die for on girls like Suri with thick, glossy hair. Not so much on fine, mousy haired girls like my Sadie. The reason her hair is two different lengths in the first place and making me crazy is because I had bangs cut on her which I later didn't like and wanted grown out.

The second option is to go with this very chic Dakota Fanning; the bob with no bangs.

The third option is the easiest, but possibly very dangerous. Easy, because I would just leave her hair the way it is and keep doing what I am doing, but dangerous because it might make me so insane that I would have to sneak into her bedroom one night and snip it off myself.

I think we'll go with option 1 or 2. It is almost her birthday, and she should have a cute, sassy new look to go with her new age, no? Besides, there's always pink nail polish and lipstick. Either way, I will be sure to post "after" pics. The appointment is Thursday, so check back!