Fashionista in training

Let me start this post off by stating that I am NOT, by any stretch of the imagination, a fashion goddess. My tastes runs to the conservative and well, boring. Today A and I went on a quick trip to JcPenney with my mom. We each had a $10 off a $10 purchase coupon that we figured we might as well use. A has a birthday coming up in January and there was a decent sale going on in the toddler department. We selected a few outfits and she insisted on trying them on. Then she had to try on some other things, too. And admire herself in the dressing room's full length mirror. She then had to parade out to show Grammy all the wonderful clothes. And bow for the other shoppers. As we left the store, she asked if we were going to buy shoes now. Oh boy.

It's begining to feel a lot like Christmas

Christmas is just over a week away and there is still so much to be done. In addition to all the normal Christmas activity, it is pageant week at the boys' school. They go to a catholic school and our christmas pageant is a big production. Every kid in the pre k - 8th grade has a part. J is in the choir this year, where 5th-7th eagerly await their turn at the 8th grade speaking roles. I'm thinking Joseph or drummer boy for next year. N is part of the christmas tree and he is directing his tree as they sing Oh Christmas Tree and Jesus Loves Me. As the head homeroom mom for the school, I am in charge of the cookies and punch reception that follows the evening pageant performance. It's a brutal week. But, pageant day really signifies the begining of Christmas for us. This will be J's 9th year in the pageant. N is only on his 4th year. It is the same pageant every year. And every year these kids move me to tears when they perform the Christmas Story. From the tiny pre k stars all the way to the 8th graders who have the most important roles, they absolutely blow you away. As I sit in that darkened church Thursday night, I will be reminded once again, of the true meaning of Christmas. And I will cry.

Potty Mouth

I confess to having a potty mouth. Hell, I cuss like a sailor at times. I've been thinking I needed to clean up my mouth. Today A (age 2) told me the damn tree was beautiful. As I was trying to figure out if I'd heard her correctly an ornament fell off the tree. She asked how the hell that happened. The dish soap is waiting next to my toothbrush.

Rest in peace Nugget

A few days ago, I went to check on N's hermit crab, Nugget. Well, his name is actually Butt Nugget, but I try hard to change it to the more mannerly, Nugget. But I digress. N is prety good about making sure he keeps Nugget watered and fed, but since he's only 8, I do check behind him. Well, Nugget was out of his shell and let's just say he was looking like, well, a petrified nugget. Turns out he had recently changed shells and moved into the lovely painted shell we had provided for him. Turns out painted shells are toxic to hermit crabs. Who knew? Certainly not the pet store where I asked if the shells were safe and was assured they were. So, if there any hermit crab owners out there, pass on the painted shells. Rest in peace Butt Nugget.

He's the captain

J came in from baseball practice last night all stoked up because he was voted team captain. This makes me proud of him on so many levels. He was chosen by his teammates because without fail, he has the most positive attitude on the team. He always has an encouraging word for a fellow player, cheers the loudest from the dugout, and stays positive no matter what happens. Since this fledgling travel team often times resembles the Bad New Bears, this is a good thing. They need positve energy. But his winning attitude does a mama proud. In his eyes, this puts him one step closer to being like his idol, Derek Jeter, captain of the NY Yankees. You have to understand that this kid is a huge Yankee fan. He has been coached from birth, by his equally die hard grandpa, on all things Yankee. His goal in life is to become their starting first baseman. Of course, he's now also coveting the captains position.

Magnificent Monday

I want to officially go on record and state that I hate Mondays. Mondays are the single busiest day of the week for our family. Mondays signal the start of the new school week which entails trying to remember who ordered lunch, who has what to hand in this week, and my personal favorite, is it car duty week for the 7th grader (insert grimace here, especially if it is AM car duty). Monday is also the day A has playgroup, N has cub scouts and gymnastics, J has service club and baseball practice. Since T works the closing shift at the store the majority of Mondays, I'm on my own. Or almost. My parents pitch in and help out with the shuffling of kids. I probably don't thank them near enough. Homework is completed in between activities at various locations. The car, the library, the middle of the shopping center where the gymnastics center is located. After we all arrive home, these darn kids expect to be fed. I don't thank my crockpot near enough either. I hate Mondays. My favorite part of Monday is when I collapse into bed and can start dreaming that it's Tuesday. Did I mention I hate Mondays?