I'm thinking.... Giveaway!

I know you're out there.... reading, lurking... not commenting... I'm thinking a cute giveaway might get you sayin' something. You'll have one of the cutest bags at the beach/pool this summer... pinky swear. Monogrammed, of course :) I'll have it posted before the weekend...

Oh, and if you're a Georgia Girl (the Red & Black kind), I may have a seperate giveaway for you ;)

XOXOXO

Lucky 13

That's Little Man in his new soccer jersey. He got #13.

He scored his first goal today! And I missed it... Being supermom sucks. I had just left his game half way through to take Big Girl to her dance recital practice, when CPA sent me a text that he scored. CPA said Little Man was sooooo excited!

He also just had his 4 year old well check appointment. (The one with 4 shots... ugh!) At 4, Little man is 44 3/4" tall, and weighs 45 lbs. That put him in the 99th percentile for height and 95th for weight. She measured him twice. Yes, he's tall for his age. Yes, daddy is tall, 6'4". Yes, we think he's going to be tall too. Did I mention, he's also starting to eat me out of house and home!

Soccer is his first sport to play on an organized sports team. He loves it! Next up... Tee Ball. And he insists he wants to play football. For GEORGIA. Slow down Little Man. You'll get there. One day. Sniff. Sniff. Right now, I like you being my lucky 13.

Stuart Little lives here now...

I have mice. IN MY HOUSE! The construction has evidently stirred them up. Where the hell are the stray neighborhood cats when you need them.

Meet one of the Little Family:
Little #1 scurried across my dining room floor the other night while CPA and I were watching TV. We closed in the dining room and got him within a few minutes. BTW, CPA and I rock at teamwork. CPA walked him (in a gift bag) down the street and let him free in the neighbor's ivy.

Little #2 showed up the next night. We lost him. Great.... CPA went to bed, while I stayed up to monogram. CPA sleepily walks into my office at midnight and tells me he thinks our friend is in my closet.

Me: Okay?

CPA: Will you come help me?

Me: Okay. You get something to catch him and I'll start pulling all the crap off the floor that's crammed in my tiny ass closet, so we can find him.

CPA meets me back in the bedroom with a set of those tiny Ziploc plastic containers that you'd store your last two bites of chicken salad. And a broom.

Me: Are you serious? Get a huge ass department store bag from the pantry for him to crawl into.

CPA: These are fine.

I continue to pull crap out of the closet. And by crap, I mean the 1500 bags and purses I bring home from market, which I LOVE, but have no where to store in my 3ftx4ft closet. I digress. Stuart falls out of my black fleece jacket and scurries towards CPA (still holding the powerful Ziploc containers). But not before CPA jumped 12 feet off the ground. Don't worry, I flinched a little, but was too busy laughing my ass off at the grown man with the Ziploc defense. He finally got me a big ass bag. We caught Stuart Little in the big ass bag. I handed it to CPA to walk him down the street.

CPA: Can you take him out? I'm in my PJ's.

Me: Seriously? What are you, 8? It's midnight. You take him.

So, I'm walking down the street at midnight. Because CPA's in his PJ's and I'm the best wife ever.

Little #3 wakes me up at 5a.m. He's in my closet. What the hell is in my closet that's so mouse attractive besides the small nest-like space?!! Don't worry CPA tells me to go back to sleep, we'll get em' in the morning.

Coming to a Trash Can Near You

I realize I just wrote a really nice thing about CPA, our marriage, etc. And its true... however, I am about to LOSE IT on his ass if he doesn't figure out how the trash can works. CPA usally goes to bed before me... why not, when you don't have to finish picking up from the end of the day, lay out school clothes (after you make sure there's something clean to wear), OH, and squeeze in some more monogramming. Because it lives in your home office 24/7. Staring at you, until its done.

I used to be all about taking care of my honey. But now... I'm sorry, I've got two additional humans to take care of, the house, a monogram business... oh, and what's all the racket going on? Yes, a renovation I'm trying to oversee. This house isn't picking out its own windows, doors, tile, fixtures, floors....... by itself.


So, I swear if I pick up one more wrapper (from the granola bar I saw you eat tonight), throw away one more EMPTY cereal box left open on the counter (which I know you ate and finished this morning) AND have to put away the crap you leave on my desk while you piddle around on MS Money I AM GOING TO LOSE MY SHIOT! I realize I am essentially a SAHM (a good SAHM would not complain about this, she'd be ALL that and a bag of chips, but I'm doing the best I can here), but last I checked your arms weren't broken and if you got out the box of Goldfish crackers to eat while sitting watching 57,000 games of MLB tonight... you probably know where to put that Goldfish cracker box back, right? And NO, its not on the table in the living room sitting next to the Waterford crystal picture frame... So, BACK IT ON UP and put it in the trash for me, k?

XOXOXO

Duh, mom!

So, it's one of THOSE days... nothing goes right, you run late for everything, multi-tasking sends you in a tail spin... you know the drill. It also doesn't help when Little Man is in tow for morning errands, which I'm trying to accomplish with one child... and Big Girl is around for the second set of short, very short errands in the afternoon. Two children. Two errands. I can do this.


We are not even to the post office yet, and they are wild in the back seat. I can feel it. This is not going to go well. I'm frazzled already, they don't listen while waiting in line with me, small amounts of pushing/shoving/silliness. While walking to the car Little Man makes a mad dash through the parking lot to the wrong car. Big Girl is dragging her feet 15 steps behind me and sad from me yelling under my breadth inside. We get in the car, I'm yelling at them, loudly, under my breath again about how ridiculous it is that I can't even run a simple errand with them. Then Big Girl says, "You should run these errands while we're in school ya know." She's smart, this one.



I wasn't sure to be mad at myself because she's totally right or that it sounds exactly like something CPA would tell me. After he tells me they're always good for him on errands.

More mayhem later... promise.

Lucky

I have been loving this song by Jason Mraz with Colbie Cailat. You see... I am lucky.




CPA and I have alot of friends that aren't. We got married in our late 20's, when ALL of our friends got married in their early 20's. I was in 5 weddings in one year's time shortly after college! Three of our friend's marriages were ending in divorce the year we were engaged. None of them had children. So, those marriages weren't even hard yet... sheesh.

Now, in our mid to late (that's CPA, not me) 30's, we are going through another slew of divorces. Most of them seem to be the men up and leaving because they have decided it is just too hard. Seriously? Um, too hard to be committed, too hard to be faithful, too hard to be a good dad, too hard to be a good partner... UM, too hard to BE A MAN! What the hell is wrong with all these people? As happy as we are, this marriage is a work in progress everyday. And yes, its hard. Are you telling me someone thought it was going to be a first date everyday, forever? I don't know about y'all, but this pretty doesn't roll out of bed like this... its work too. Is it roses and rainbows everyday? No. Is it wonderful most days. Yes.

Am I missing something... are all these other marriages falling apart because they are really that much harder than mine? Or does no one else care about commitment, loyalty or for heaven's sake LOVE of your spouse and family. There's some cheating going on (that's no good in my book), but mostly just alot of giving up. It makes me sad. I can't imagine being with someone who would give up on me so easily. Did I really get that lucky that I found a good man or that he found me? That's another fabulous love story ;)

Either way, we are completely, madly lucky in love. Lucky me.



More mayhem at a later post....

Transformers & Band Aids

Little Man just brought me a band aid. He's worried about my fingers. How sweet is he! I told him they hurt from transforming all his Transformers he got for his birthday, and I can't transform them until they heal. He helped me put the band aid on my finger and says:

Little Man: You better now mama?

Me: Yes, sweetie, thank you.

Little Man: I'll go get my Transformers, so you can fix them now. Let's start with Ratchet.

Me: Thanks man. Thanks.

The transforming never ends.

Bleh!

I owe my blog more than this boring post... ALOT more, like actually posting more than bi-monthly. But, feel sorry for me... I have strep and fluid in both ears. I spent an hour at the doctor's today with Little Man to find that out. From 4:30 to 5:30 with no snacks, no juice, and not even a crayon & paper in sight. My fault, no? I was screwed before I even got there.

When I get out from under the mountain of laundry that never goes away and the monogramming to be done before I leave town, I will post my fun finds from market. Here's a sneak peek...

Maybe I'll even get around to posting some pictures of the paint, wallpaper and fabrics the fabulous decorator I hired is working on for the house. All of which I will be selling my left arm to buy... sheesh. Please come into my foyer...

My last post included my first posted picture (of my cute Big Girl and Little Man) and it took FOREVER to download into the blog! Am I doing something wrong or is it always that slow?!!!