Charles Shaw Wine

On our way to the wine store last weekend my brother-in-law wanted to stop by a speciality store that sells wine for 2.99 per bottle. My first thought, cheap wine=headache. I was skeptical but became optimistic because.....well, because I am an optimist and that's how I roll.

At the speciality store they were giving out samples of the wonder wine.

It was so fabulous I had three samples and bought a case. The zinfandel is quite tasty and my new favorite wine.

WORDLESS WEDNESDAY

DEFYING

GRAVITY

MATTHEW-STYLE

Our Fantabulous Memorial Day Weekend

Thank you Tim for being a great cook, cleaner, tool man, athlete, entertainer, and lecturer over the weekend. My bitch sister is a lucky girl.

My bitch sister and best friend in the whole world!

Cassidy and Remi

She's so exhausted that it takes a whole door frame to hold her up.

Matt the rhino. Thank you and you know why!

Dear Hannah,

You are the world's greatest cousin!

Love, Remster

The Kid in You Photo Contest

The Pitter Patter of Little Feet

Wordless Wednesday

Emo Weeping Willow Tree

Remi about to turn and run from the Emo Weeping Willow Tree.

Happy Birthday Mommy Dearest

Happy 55th. You don't look a day over 16 in your stylish clothes that you will only purchase in the juniors department. Yeah, I went there.

The Faker in a Black TShirt and Skinny Jeans

On Friday Cassidy fell down the stairs and sprained her foot in 75 places. She's not a complainer so when she called me to pick her up from school I knew she was in pain. To get a better idea of the severity of her injury I asked her to compare her foot pain to appendicitis. She said the appendicitis hurt worse but, it was almost as bad.

I loaded the babies in the car and we were on our way to the school.

She walked with a limp, she was sweaty, and she had a (I might throw up where's a bucket) look on her face. She got into the car and proceeded to explain to me how she would have called me earlier but she was stopped in the hallway by the "Injured Foot patrol officer". He redirected her to the nurse without asking any questions. Cassidy immediately believed he was profiling her as a faker and trouble maker because she was wearing a black tshirt and skinny jeans. She concluded we could have a great discrimination law suit against him because he delayed her emergency foot sprain surgery. For the record, Cassidy is an honor roll student and she is one of the kindest people I've ever known. She just happens to dress like a trouble maker and faker.

Anyway, I want to give credit where credit is due so, here goes: Thank you Mr. Injured Foot patrol officer for putting my tax dollars to good use by getting your PhD in Faker Identification Technology.

Dear Sydney

Sydney,

You will be 7 weeks old on Wednesday. Wow, where'd the time go? You have grown so much in just a few short weeks. You are surpassing milestones as they seem to come so easy for you. You love being held but you are just as happy to be in your cradle or swing.

Mommy goes back to work this week which means we will have to spend some time apart. For me, each hour that I am gone will seem like two. I will have your bright, beautiful eyes and wide, contagious smile to look forward to while I am at work. I love you Spanky!

Accidental Profanitiy

Last night was Cassidy's final middle school orchestra concert. It was held in the middle school gymnasium. Remi and I were in attendance. We enjoyed the entire show from the gym doorway. I wasn't brave enough to sit with the other parents for fear Remi would totally embarrass her older sister by shouting some accidental profanity. This is because for some reason Remi now pronounces everything with an "f". So, pretty much all of her words sounds like the dreaded "f" word.

Under normal circumstances Cassidy would encourage Remi to cuss by asking her to say words like puck and duck. But, during the performance between songs there is complete silence. Needless to say, inside the gym was no place to take a toddler who shouts accidental profanities unexpectedly.

After the concert, we went out to eat. We chose to go to a local bar and grill where cussing is encouraged and Remi could be herself.

Me, (in the fetal position) Crying with Kate

Today TLC aired a Jon and Kate plus 8 marathon in honor of Mother's Day. I love this program. Maybe its the inspiration Kate gives me when she consistently has at least one nerve left at the end of the day. I watched four episodes today. Two of which I had seen before, twice. I couldn't help it. Its a crack cocaine, heroin-like addiction for me.

On one of today's episodes the family takes a trip to Utah. They must travel by plane for hours with all the kids. When the airport closes due to ice on the runway it is diverted to Idaho. They assumed the airport would reopen in Utah and expected to head back there soon after landing in Boise. Not the case. The airport did reopen temporarily but quickly re closed. When Kate heard the news she had a near nervous breakdown. She burst into tears. All of the sudden, out of nowhere, I started sympathy crying with her and I couldn't stop. If anyone on this earth deserves a nervous breakdown its Kate Gosselin. I felt her pain. Well...... not as bad as she did but, almost. Anyway, I was glad to see she got to shed a few well deserved tears. Here's to you Kate!

A Mile in My Bedroom Shoes

At approximately 630 pm today I walked by a mirror and glanced over to have a quick look at myself. I say approximately because I haven't even looked at a clock today. It was at that moment I gained a whole new respect for child care providers. I was still in my pajamas and there was what looked like spit up stains around the shoulder area of my shirt. And oh yeah, I still had "bed head". I realized that I had just had the most challenging day thus far in my quest to get these children raised.

Its all my fault. I jinxed myself. I shouldn't have told anyone who would listen what a quiet, easy going baby Sydney is. She woke up at 7am. She went back to sleep tonight at 830pm. Naps? Not even one. She cried, she smiled, she ate, and she spit up, with no resting in between. She didn't have any sick symptons. She just wanted to be awake all day, plain and simple.

Momma, I'm Convinced

For as long as I can remember my mother has always said "I love You" before we concluded any phone conversation. Its not just the I love you's, she also puts requests in for me to hug and kiss my kids for her. With the birth of my four children her goodbye ritual has become excessively long because heaven forbid she leave anyone out. Then, there are the times she gets sidetracked during the ritual so she starts over. Its a special treat for her when she calls and the machine picks up. She can get everything out she wants to say without my usual goodbye ritual interruption. It would make her life much easier if we could just assume she loves us until she tells us otherwise.

I confronted her for the millionth time about her obsessive compulsive need to say I love you. Her defense? A response she uses often when she wants one of her kids to feel guilty. "What if something happened and I didn't get to tell you ever again?"

You can be damn certain when I die I will know my mother loved me. I am sure if she has anything to do with it she will slip her tape recorded I love you ritual into my casket so that even in death she can still try to convince me.

My 8,000 Dollar Curtains

We decided a couple months ago to buy drapes and shades for the family/breakfast/kitchen room. We had been in the house for almost two years with nothing but blinds over the windows. So needless to say, it was time to pimp them out.

The job was assigned to me since I was on maternity leave and had nothing better to do with all my free time. As far as I was concerned my job was simple. I would just pick someone from the yellow pages and have them do all the work for me. I scheduled an appointment with a local interior decorator and a meeting was arranged for the following Tuesday. I spoke with a lady named Deb and she said she looked forward to our appointment. She nearly killed me with kindness. I could tell she was faking. She was just building me up so that I would spend all my money on her diamond encrusted, gold and platinum window coverings. Someone should have told Deb I work in the ER and ER nurses are experts at recognizing bull shit.

She rang the doorbell at precisely two o'clock. When I opened the door I felt a little under dressed in my sweatpants and tshirt. Deb looked like she had come to my house to meet the President. When I say President I don't mean George Bush. I mean the President, Founder, and CEO of all the interior decorators all over the world. Her female man suit was neatly pressed and she wore freshly shined high heel patent leather dress shoes. I believe I was wearing socks.....maybe. I introduced myself quickly so she would know she had come to the right house.

Justin came in and offered to help. He quickly announced he was an expert at this kind of thing. Wow, I never knew he had a queer eye. Deb laid out 50,00o different swatches of patterns and material types. I quickly became overwhelmed and decided to let Deb and Justin make the decisions. My only request was that there be no floral patterns. I needed 5 window coverings and 3 french door roman shades.

Deb asked me about a budget. I had not been given one at the time so I told her there wasn't one. BIG mistake. She flashed me a huge smile. I saw a remarkable twinkle and money symbols in her eyes.

One hour later when Deb and Justin had made their selections Deb sat down to draw up an invoice. This took all of 45 minutes. She calculated and recalculated 7 times. The grand total was just over 8,000 dollars. I believe I went into some sort of functional shock. I kept a straight face, barely. I informed her I would present her estimate to Money Bags (aka my baby's daddy) that night and would be back in touch with her as soon as I had an answer.

It turns out I didn't have the heart to show him the invoice for 2 days. On day 2 I just handed it to him. His question for Deb? "Is this estimate for the whole house?" In other words, he wanted me to ask Deb if her curtains were made with diamond encrusted, gold and platinum material.

I decided to hire Justin and myself as my interior decorators. We were able to do the project for a fraction of what Deb estimated. I never called her back mainly because I feared I would lose my self control and tell her how I could feed an entire nation for 3 years for what she was charging for one roman shade.