Back by popular demand...

And by popular, I mean my Mom, Aunt Debbie, and my Aunt Linda.

I have been slacking terribly on the ol blog but once you get behind, it's hard to catch up. Plus, I'm a part-time working mom now, so you know, one must still sleep.

In order to overcome this behind the times dilemma, I have assembled a slide show to sum up the biggest happenings including Halloween, the return of our Elf on the Shelf, Thanksgiving, and Christmas light viewing.

Or -- HallElfThankslights for short.

Without further ado, may I present Fall 2011, in a nutshell:

Free photo slideshow created with Smilebox

The Family Bed

For some, this phrase conjures up images of soothing sleep, deep, connected breathing between children and parents, snuggles warm and cozy in the king size bed. Not in this house. It's more like torture. Dan actually has a bad neck, for the second day in the row.
It starts innocently enough. Someone is up crying. I go to get Reese, bring her to bed for a snuggle. I may or may not be on Tylenol PM. I warn Dan of this fact. He replies with a mumble about a foyer's plaster. Then, a heavy breathing baby falls asleep on my neck. I lay there motionless. I finally heave my body off of the bed and return the babe to her crib. No lie, I return to the bed and not ten minutes later, Riley comes in telling me about a bad dream. These dreams usually revolve around bad horses. We are investigating. She insists on sleeping only on my side, stabbing her foot into my lady town and her elbow into my ribs. She may or may not sleep there all night, it depends on how tired or bruised I am. Inevitably, she ends up laying sideways in the king-sized bed and Dan and I are both left clinging onto the edges of the bed for dear life. What a good nights sleep.

What not to do.

I once read a list of parent mistakes that we should never make with our children. Out of the usual suspects, I read one that said you should never tell your child to "hurry up." Evidently, this conveys to the child that their time is not valuable and that rushing our children makes them feel like a failure...or some crap like that. If I never told Riley to hurry up, we honestly would never leave the house. We would be stuck in limbo - in that dangerous place where the garage seems really exciting and the car seat takes 57 minutes to maneuver any possible entrance.

On the list, I didn't see anything about vacuuming your children. I am almost sure they will have suction or cleanliness obsessions as adults, but, hey, you gotta do what you gotta do. This is especially true after an almost 15 month old enjoys a messy cupcake. Little did I know she would like it so much....and so did big sister.

Where is my family?

Riley loves to make up songs and then subsequently sing them in this deep, man-voice around the house. One of her favorites is to sing, "Where is my family?" song. A joy to a mother's ears. After grilling her during our pony-unicorn play therapy session, (Me, as the cheetah: I get grumpy when I don't get enough sleep. Riley, playing the Mommy Unicorn: Where is my baby?) we figured out that her "bird" is looking for his Mommy and Daddy. In her world, everyone of her animals is looking for their Mommy or Daddy. This excuse also comes in handy when she wants to pick up a baby lizard or stray cat. I say to her, "Now, we don't want to take them home, they might miss their Mommy and Daddy," of course I follow this up with, "Sometimes people have two Mommies or two Daddies or..." Dan then reminds me that after all, she is only three. Don't even get me started on the stranger danger talk.

While this video is long, it just makes me laugh. So enjoy, Mom.

Thursday night funny

Feel better Mimi!

Dance, Girl, Dance.

Let is go on record that I didn't want to sign Riley up for dance. I thought she would be too overstimulated from school and we shouldn't do dance until she was four. I didn't want to push her into something that she didn't want to do.

Let is also go on record that I was wrong. Dead wrong.

Miss Riley Belle loved dancing.

On a morning ride to school, her best buddy pointed out her dance studio. Riley pipes up, "I want to go to dance." I knew she was serious because she kept talking about it.

We went out yesterday and purchased her shoes and dance outfit. She was ecstatic. Danced in the store. This was course after she freaked out in the Target dressing room because she was afraid the attendant would come in on her naked. She also kept repeating, "I don't like that lady." The lady look unamused when we exited the room.

After school and her snack, Riley dressed in her dance ensemble and waited for her ride to class. She kept her shoes, socks, and water bottle in the bag I dug up from my stash, insisting to sling it across her chest like I wear my diaper bag.

Because of the plague currently attacking Reese's eye, nose, throat, and ears, we stayed home and Riley rode with our friends. She shot the in-studio pictures of our ballerina and tap dancer in action. She can't wait to go back next week.

Back to School - Proud Moments

Last week brought three big changes to our house. Mommy works part time as a professor, Riley is in the 3 year old class at preschool and Reese is being looked after by a close family friend while Mommy and Riley at school. Everyone had a great first week and we are excited about the upcoming school year.

Morning of the first day of school for Mommy and Riley.

Riley and one of her teachers, Ms. Tami. We were lucky enough to get her for the second year in a row.


What makes it even better is that Riley and her best friend are in class together!
In contrast to last year, I left that little preschool classroom proud. Proud of my first-born as she looked confident and helped her friend adjust to the new surroundings - familiar to her this time around. I was so proud that I actually high-fived my friend as we left the room. I was proud that I let Riley wear her worn out, hand-me-down-from-her-cousin red dress and her non-matching pink, sparkly, light up shoes. I let go. It made her happy so I was too. Last year I was holding an almost newborn but this year, I confidently handed her off and strode off in my high-heels and working mom wear. I was proud that I was excited, not sad. I was excited not only about Riley's newest adventure but mine too. And you know what? I couldn't wait to see my kids when school let out and we picked up Reese. I loved on them a little more, used kinder words, and even made dinner. Now that's something to be proud of.

The mall

We had to get out of the house. Desperately. It had been raining for two days and we hadn't left the house let alone change out of our pajamas.

I decided to load the girls up in the van. First up, we did the carousel ride. In line, some girls were looking at Riley. This obviously makes her nervous so what does she do? Pull Reese's hair. While on the ride, I position myself between the two horses the girls are riding, "Cinderella" was Riley's and Reese was riding "Jessica." We had to talk about names for a long time: Why would Cinderella be a horse and who is Jessica?

Then, Riley is the kid who you can't get off the ride. I pry her little hands off and promise her pretzel sticks. Nutritious lunch, right?

After I slather them down with sanitizing wipes, we head to the little tables at the food court. I spot a girl I used to work with - pre-mom days. I notice how lovingly she peers in her kids eyes, enthralled in their words and little faces. I drag my kids over and we exchange our hellos.

Of course, the first words out of my mouth are, "You have two kids!"
Her: You do too!

This is when it happens. It's like I have been released from solitary confinement. It is all unleashed.

I teach college kids now. How old are your kids? When are their birthdays? Where does he go to school? What are you doing? Oh, this is your family? Hi, I'm Jamie. We used to work together. These are my girls.

(Cue Riley suffocating Reese with a pretzel stick.)

All of this happens before she even responds. It's like she's in shock by my rate of speech and the content in which I am providing at record speed.

We never get farther than the food court. That was enough activity for one day.

Boobs.

So if you are thinking, is Jamie writing about boobs again? The answer is: Hells Yeah.

Reese was up last night with teething pain. In fact, she interrupted our hubby/wife movie watching and sneaky cookie eating time. We were watching Bad Teacher. Cameron Diaz wants big boobs to attract rich men. She is also a bad teacher. Spoiler alert: This is basically the entire plot of the movie.

Reese is sitting on the couch with us, drinking some milk from her sippy cup and moaning her little self back to sleep when all of a sudden, some gigantic boobs pop onto the screen. (Cameron was in the plastic surgeon's office and was getting an eyeful of another woman's larger pair).

My former breastfed baby bounds off the couch, grunting, running, and pointing at the television screen. She is pointing at the lady's rack. She gets as close as she can to those puppies and sort of dances at the sight of her long lost friends.

And that folks, was the highlight of my day.