personal victories

This month I had a few personal victories.



1. I talked Jeremy into an automatic dustpan. I love it. No more piles around the kitchen table waiting to be tracked into the rest of the house. No more "where did the dustpan go?" moments. No more complaints from Jeremy about why there are piles to begin with.

It super sucks like magic. My world's been literally transformed.

2. I wrote a letter of complaint to GAP (sad selection of back-to-school clothes, price points way off) and offered to be their mom-at-home marketing consultant, because after all, I am their target shopper -- my own kids, baby gifts, referral service for friends. And... I ACTUALLY got a letter back declining my offer, but so appreciative of my enthusiasm they enclosed a $10 gift card. GO Me!



3. I spent the whole week scrapbooking, condensing my kid's lives into 12X12 layouts, and am now up to date. I feel so organized. Just look at this moment, never to be forgotten. I love that Ruby is wearing her Tiffany necklace with the Indian Maiden Princess get-up. And I love that Ashton let her style him!



4. I've convinced myself to spend the entire next week tackling my disaster zone of a house (a mental victory, OK?) because, hey, when you're making 75 cupcakes for a Pack Meeting with two little boy helpers, things get dirtier faster than a speeding bullet. Who can complain when they're so darn cute? Even when, like Wyatt, they're trying to escape my camera and jump the balcony. You can hardly tell from his photo that just yesterday Wyatt electrocuted himself with scissors in the kitchen outlet. FYI: His hair ALWAYS sticks up like that, unless Jeremy is around.

soccer saturdays

We spent a beautiful Saturday afternoon at Ashton's soccer tournament.



Watching this kid play is pure joy -- the way he "slices" his hands when he runs to make himself lightening quick (his method)...



his high-fives to his teammates when someone scores ...

his somersault back to the halfway line mid run ...



the way he automatically lines up to personally take every kickoff and free kick ...

how he's the only five-year-old on the field keeping score ...



the way he tells us on the sidelines just how many goals he's scored and many dollars he expects from Jeremy.

Over Achieving

Today was the start of a little lunch club between four of us moms and kids. I hosted and thought I was taking the easy road by making ravioli. I accidentally made ravioli filling instead of sauce last Friday, then realized my mistake and stuck it in the fridge for another day. So I figured I'd use up my homemade ravioli filling and leftover sauce. BAD, BAD, idea.

Homemade ravioli is so hard to make. NEVER NEVER attempt this at home. Store bought ravioli is really good and pretty cheap, considering...

I had to roll four strips of dough 48" long, and this dough was soooo elastic, I finally got two cans of peaches to hold each end down while I worked up a sweat trying to get my dough past a foot. Like a balloon, it kept snapping down shorter and shorter. A smarter woman would have stopped, and at one point I did throw my dough ball back in the Kitchen Aid bowl in disgust, but dangit, I was determined.

One hour later, I had 40 pathetic looking raviolis, and I was happy about it, too.



Too bad I didn't see Wyatt, getting busy in the honey, drinking from the thing like it was his sippy cup.



Now I had messy counters, sticky baby, and sweaty me (I wasn't kidding about perspiring while I rolled out those things) to deal with and only 15 minutes until arrival.

Somehow, things got done (even the bathroom, yea!) and ladies LOVED the ravioli. All I could think was, "Good, because you'll never have it from me again." Every now and then Ashton would pipe up during our conversation, "My mom hates that ravioli!"

As I was telling dear friend Nancy last week, "If I'd just stop over achieving, none of these things would happen to me." (lots of laughter, please.)

A day in the life of ME

This week I told Jeremy I'm like FEMA. Emergency evacuation every morning to get the kids off to school; always a rush; always something nearly forgot. Last year we nearly forgot Ashton. (He HAD gotten in the car and thought his shoes were inside, but got back out when he discovered they were in the house. I didn't realize the got back out part until I was turning out of our cul de sac and saw neighbor Mara screaming at me to stop. I look in my mirror to see Ashton tearing down the street, yelling, after me. "Oh! I'm sorry," says Mara. "I didn't realize you MEANT to do that and was using this morning as a TEACHING moment." In climbs Ashton and away we go.)

And I'm poison control, though not lately, knock on wood. And I'm general disaster relief -- broken glass, missing toothbrush, bubbles in shinguard that preclude Ashton from leaving my lap at soccer, and too many more things to list.



But my consolation is Jeremy says I'm more competent than FEMA. Another week gone by.

School Days

Today little Ashton headed off to preschool. I started to get sad before we even neared the parking lot. "I'm going to miss you, Ashton," I said. "It's OK mom, you'll be fine," Ash replied. "I might need to get a diet coke on the way home to cheer myself up," I said. "Good idea," said Ashton. He ran in without looking back. "What about me?!" I said. He U-turned for a quick hug and kiss.

Even Wyatt missed his buddy. As we left school, Wy kept saying, "Ashin....Ashinnnnn."

Here's what I'm going to miss -- ongoing dialogue like the one we had this morning on our way to get apples at Glen Willow Orchards.
Ash: "Mom. If we're ever going to move, can I take my weapons with me?"
Mom: "Yes."
Ash: "And mom. Can I have my own suitcase for my own weapons?"
Mom: "Yes. But we're not moving."
Ash: "You promise across the whole universe?" (He's referring here to keeping weapons and getting own suitcase for weapons -- not the moving part.)
Mom: "Promise."
Ash: "Let's go get some delicious, red delicious. Hit it mom."
Mom: "Delicious. Red delicious." (Never heard this song before, but....)
Ash: "They're yummy and sweet and tart and good all the way to the farm. Hit it mom."
Mom. "Delicious. Red delicious."
and on, and on, and on.....
Ash: "Mom. I really need to pee in this bottle."
Mom: "You just went and I know you don't need to go the bathroom."
Ash: "But I need to go now and I like this bottle."
Mom: "We're almost home."
Ash: "But this bottle is much closer."

sigh, sigh, sigh. What a kid.

Tudie-ta's

First chronicle of my tudie-ta life...




Main Event: Ruby puts red nail polish through the wash. "What is that smell?" I wonder as I begin to pull clothes out of our supersize dryer. Out comes a dried out brush. Out comes an empty bottle of polish (MY OPI). Out comes a supersized load of polish-crusted clothing. I spend next hour cleaning polish off inside of dryer so I can move in my next load. Do the clothes come clean? To be continued...




Sideshow One: Ashton's room is a LegoLand mess. "Hurry up, Ashton, it's bedtime," I say. "Mom," he replies, "Slow and steady wins the race." Note to self: Too many readings of The Tortoise and the Hare.




Sideshow Two: Ashton, my beloved, turns 5-years-old. I am so thankful to have this bundle of energy in my life. I spend a frantic week prior to his birthday searching for a bike only to discover the Chinese shut down the bike factories and shipped out the workers during the Olympics. There is not a bike to be found at Toys 'R Us, Target, Dick's, or Precision Bike, but I finally find the prized bike at an independent. Ash, Wyatt, and I check out the helmets while the store manager secretly carries bike to my trunk. I'm ecstatic. Jeremy's response, "So what you're telling me, Brandy, is you overpaid." Guess we've been married 12-years.




Sideshow Three: Not to be forgotten, Cade remains fabulously tudie-ta free.





Sideshow Four: Jeremy and I go on a three day vacation sans kids to NYC to see the U.S. Open. I love every second of it (except when I start thinking about kissing Wyatt's cute chubs). Amazing sister Molly flies out from LA to watch the kids. When we get home at 2 a.m. the kitchen is clean, chocolate chip cookies are cooling on the counter, and the kids are happy. Am I lucky, or what?