June Cleaver Nirvana

Ever since Fussy started Fight the Frump Fridays, Fridays have been fabulous (the after pictures of last week's beauty alteration are posted here and please notice I am wearing earrings by Fussy!). Hmmmm...coincidence or Fussy's own take on The Secret?. I don't know, but I am just living the dream. Here is what is on the Nirvana schedule today:

5:30--3 boys wake up
6:30--3 boys are ALLOWED out of bed
7:30--breakfast
9:00--grandma comes over (Yeah!)
9:30--1st grader goes to school, grandma stays with 4 y/o because....
2 y/o and mommy go to play date with blog-goddess and fellow Texas dweller Anglophile Football Fanatic...

I know! Pretty exciting. Almost takes the sting out of the whole 5:30 three boys wake up thing. Yep, now for the real question that has brought about this post...

What am I going to wear? I have never met her in person so I would like to come across friendly without a hint of stalker. I would like to appear capable but not overdone. I would like to look current without being too-trendy. AND I would like to pull this off out of my current wardrobe because going early to the mall, buying something and changing in the minivan doesn't fit into my schedule (and is a little creepy). The challenge escalates because we both recently threw out 1/2 our wardrobes and haven't been to the mall since that time.

I have been addicted to What Not to Wear, Tim Gunn's Guide to Style, Oprah's make-over extravaganzas and pretty much any reality show with a big reveal. One of the things these shows have in common is they talk about mixing and matching, but don't address core wardrobe. Tim Gunn has his essential list, but I find for me in mommy-mode it is quite a bit more dressed up then I am willing to maintain on a daily basis. I have lived 38 years without a little black dress *gasp* and figure my money is better spent on something I would use weekly.

So, I am in the testing stages of rolling out "Holly's slot machine wardrobe system". Fancy, eh? Classy too! Think of your basics as the three rows on a slot machine. The top row would be tops, the middle row bottoms and the bottom row shoes. At the minimum you would need 3 in each row, but eventually you may want the top row to have a few more choices. If you think of the rows when you are shopping you will find yourself choosing things that coordinate with your existing wardrobe. My choice has been to keep the bottoms neutral in color and use more pattern and color in the tops and the shoes. This allows for more different combinations of the same key pieces. I find that my bottom row expands at a much faster speed because of the ease of trying on shoes vs. actual clothes with 3 boys at the mall, but by using the slot machine system I can help keep my shopping in check. The slot machine would be just core pieces. Accessories, coats and other things don't appear. Testing phase people! If this takes off, future Frump posts may include "accessory roulette" or "outer wear blackjack".

These are my mommy play date slot machine choices...Let's give it a whirl:
Let's pick a winner...

What is the winning combination today? Simple. Whatever is clean.

Got (soy)milk?

I have a confession to make. I took pictures after Jeff's magical make-up tour (if you visit the story of my little button, please leave a comment). But they were self inflicted portraits. It was either that or have them taken by a 2 y/o. I took approximately 43 pictures of my face while standing at a mirror. Not one of them did Jeff justice. Not one of them did me justice. Not one of them could be cropped to NOT include my camera. I decided to make that post without pictures because I figured if I said I looked fabulous your brain would make me fabulous...maybe even more fabulous then I actually looked which is, well, fabulous.

Let's assess my work:Alright, not bad for the first shot. I seem to be looking in the same direction as the camera through the mirror...I will re-adjust:
Adjustment made. But now my head is all twisted and what is with the smile? I'll just take another to fix that:
Ya, switching sides with the camera did not help. Hmmmm...let me try this:
Much worse! What expression am I making and could I not figure out the camera was blocking my entire face. You can see the brows, but really.
OK, that just looks like a give up.
Better! The camera is a little close to the head to be cropped out. I will try that again with the camera farther away...
OMG. Did I move? Why am I now facing OUT of the picture? Let me try something radically different...
Experiment failed. Although it does straighten out any PRE-wrinkle tendencies. Here is my favorite picture, but hardly a ringing endorsement of Jeff and little button:
Maybe photography lessons are in order for my 2 y/o...

*Mommy disclaimer: I believe potty training stories fall into the realm of "things other people don't want to hear about unless they are going through it or just did". Other things that potentially fall into this category: fishing stories, golf game reports, fantasy football records and yes, this is going to be controversial here, but birth stories *gasp*, *and now for the sound of mommies rushing to delete me from their readers* *and now for the sound of me saying "Crap! I was just making some progress in the traffic stats here"*, *and now for the sound of me retracting that last statement because as I am about to reveal below, this is all about me*. So, if I may finally get to my point here. As stated before, it is Nirvana policy that no one is under contractual obligation to read. If you do not have wee ones or are a blood relative to my wee ones, please look to the right in the fancy pink box and click on the funny thing of your choice. You are excused for today, but I expect you back tomorrow.*

About 3 years ago the following scene happened in an Ultrasound room at a local hospital:
US Tech: So, you have two boys, huh?
Me and blog-Stedman: uh, huh.
US Tech: *pointing to screen* Do you see that right there?
Me: Oh Lord...I have to potty train THREE BOYS?
Let me clarify that I was excited about having another boy because realistically, I have all the stuff and I am getting into the groove of this, but the horror that is potty training overwhelmed me at that moment and has come back to haunt me now. I figure that God sent me this last boy to potty train to entertain Himself. I can hear the heavenly mockinglaughter now.

Let's have a potty training review--
BOY #1: I read ever article, book, pamphlet, Internet advice and watched the Dr. Phil potty train in one day show. I got all the stuff recommended. I started just after Ryan turned 2 in hopes that he would be potty trained by the time his brother was born. I followed the Dr. Phil plan to the letter. Throwing massive pee parties complete with favors and noise makers. By day three I was a huddled mass on the bathroom floor yearning to be free. Free from the hell of potty training. Free from the restraints of living in the bathroom. Free from the FAILURE. I made an executive decision to stop the hemorrhaging. We discontinued the potty training. Didn't mention it until well after the baby was born. Didn't do anything else until Ryan was 3. Didn't do anything but write a scathing email to Dr. Phil.

BOY #1 Round Two: Ryan has always been smart. Too smart. He has always been conniving. Too conniving. Waiting to potty train a child until after 3 who is smart and conniving is a recipe for disaster. Overall, it was easier to get him to go on the potty and complete the necessary tasks, BUT then the bargaining began. He started holding his poop and pee hostage for ever escalating demands. "I will go pee on the potty if you give me this". "I will go poop on the potty if you will give me that". Lord help me. I made an executive decision to stop all rewards and then suffered the consequences. But finally well after mommy exhaustion had set in, BOY #1 was FINALLY potty trained *insert angel choir singing here*.

BOY #2: I can sometimes learn from my mistakes. I didn't even think potty training with Boy #2 until age 3. I set aside 2 weeks to vegetate on the bathroom floor and we began. Boy #2 is a very different soul from his older brother. Boy #2 has no interest in rewards or winning. Boy #2 lives in a different world. I often describe Reid as being "on island time". So, for 2 straight weeks of me obsessing about the potty, Reid did not go on the potty. Not. one. time. Then on day 10 he suddenly went pee while standing and afterward never had an accident. The switch had been flipped. Hallelujah, except for one tiny issue: poop. Yes, my dear island boy hadn't pooped on the potty. Not. one. time. He stood to pee and then would go poop in his underwear. This went on and on for NINE MONTHS. Nine months. Nine months. Yep, you read that correctly, nine months. Then he decided to poop on the potty and hasn't had an accident. Boy #2 was FINALLY potty trained *insert angel choir singing here*.

BOY #3: My crazy baby turned 2 in December. He believes he is 5 and because he follows his brothers around all day is a bit advanced in some areas. He has shunned all things baby for awhile and now is shunning the diaper. He is obsessed with the potty. When we are out shopping he will ask to go to the potty. I politely tell him that he isn't potty trained and I am not going into a disgusting public restroom with him for that purpose until he is. He is showing ALL the signs of potty readiness. ALL THE SIGNS. Yet, I do nothing. Don't get me wrong, if we are HOME and he wants to go potty, I oblige. BUT I am not doing anything extra to encourage it. WHY? Because I am tired. Because I am terrified. Because I hear heavenly mocking in my head. Because I am lazy. Because I know my life will never be the same once we start. Because, because, because...

What would happen if I just said no to potty training?

Would that be so wrong?

*Please, please act normal when you enter. DO NOT mention what went down here two days ago. I am going to carry on as if nothing happened. You know how Mondays can get...*
Happy Monday. You know what that means...(electronic drum roll from Rock Band creating oodles of points needed to unlock better songs)...POTLUCK! Yeah! Today I am contributing Herb Sliders featured on this week's menu plan at Blissfully Domestic. I am on my way to Target to get the supplies and if the kids all take 4 hour naps this afternoon I might be able to pull this off. The 4 hour time frame is in no way a reflection of the recipe author, it is more about user error. I love the IDEA of cooking, it is the EXOCUTION that worries me. The word "exocution" is a perfect fit in that sentence. So, if you are hungry now and need snacks there are a few leftover goldfi...shhhhhh.

There are several handwritten home made signs on posts (the kind that you would see for garage sale advertisement) at busy intersections nearby that read "2 Cool 4 Skool Home Daycare" followed by a phone number that is a cell number. Let me just make these bold statements: If you are selecting your child's daycare off of homemade signs sporting cell numbers at busy intersections, childcare may be the least of your problems. And to the "2 Cool" people...LOOK UP! There is a Kinkos right there! Go get a real sign!

This made me laugh very hard from Watch Me Christine. Which brings up the fancy new widget I am displaying to the right. It is my top ten most favoite recent posts and it is updated minutely regularly. Most these things are very, very funny because really, who can't use a good chuckle? So if you are bored and looking for a laugh, I have done all the work for you and searched out the most current giggles off my reader.

Speaking of work, my blogroll is currently under construction because it was the blogroll I designed when I had one non-relative reader. Please be distracted by the fancy new widget!

Thanks to Frog Ponds Rock for this sweet bouquet. I love visiting her site for the scenery. It is like a mini vacation.I would like to pass it on to everyone who made a comment on this post. I nearly fainted dead away...47 people! Thank you soooooo much. You have no idea how cool that is (Ok, some of you know how cool that is on a regular basis, but not me). And, if you go comment now to put me over 50 there is a bouquet of flowers in it for ya (is that too greedy?) So here I am again exceeding my blog spending limit, but no one carted me off to blogjail last time...can I say repeat offender? Someone should really write a manual so I know the rules.

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Monday is going to be furious when it gets back, but I just can't help myself. I can not come up with any cohesive thoughts with a beginning, middle and end so it's potluck time!I am serving this:It is a goldfish bar. No designated driver needed after this shindig. This idea was born approximately 30 feet from and 10 minutes after this heaven moment when Reid (not pictured there) was grabbing random bags of goldfish and throwing them into the cart while I was trying desperately to find snacks to serve at our impending HS group. It was a chocolate meet peanut butter kinda moment. An added bonus is that it allows for side by side comparison of the crazy new products goldfish is rolling out on a daily basis. Who knew that 'Blazin' Buffalo Wings' would be my favorite?

I had a really good laugh when I read Angie @ KEEP BELIEVING's Signs your kids are watching too much TV yesterday morning. Yesterday afternoon my boys were watching TV upstairs while I was down in the kitchen. Ryan(6) came running downstairs as fast as he could yelling, "I need paper! I need paper!" I pointed in the direction of their art paper and he grabbed one and ran upstairs. I didn't think twice until this was delivered a few minutes later:
This, dear reader is the 800# and price for pancake puffs. Which my boys believe we cannot live another day without. This child hypnotising commercial runs on their website. I have an idea. Why don't we get the pancake puff people to make commercials for the following: potty training, picking up your clothes, making your bed, good manners and listening to mommy. They seem to have the key to the kid's attention.

I took the minivan in for a smashed snack food and juice box detox car wash and walked into the adjacent coffee shop to catch up on my googlereader. At the table next to me were 2 guys doing a job interview. I overheard the older one tell the coffee employee he was from the bike store. After pleasantries, the interviewer asked, "Do you ride a bike?"...silence...crickets..."uh, uh...no." I am no Human Resource genius, but I think that interview was over.

I apologize that this is long overdue, but awhile ago Courtney @ Life with 2 Beautiful Girls sent over this sweet award:Thanks so much! Courtney, I still owe you a meme, but as previously stated, my brain isn't exactly cohesive today. The award will look stunning next to this one from Rachel at Always Wanted 4:I heart and appreciate you. And since you are really supposed to decorate in odd numbers, let me mention this:Thanks so much to Rachel at The Land of Monkeys and Princesses for the Royal Banana award. I have been secretly coveting it (is that so wrong?) and will display it proudly.

I think American businesses under-utilize the Drive-thru window. I vote with my dollar by daily supporting fast food, dry cleaners, coffee, pharmacy, and library drop box drive thru windows. I think almost ANY business could and should have a drive-thru. I am not just talking restaurants here (although I think they all should have them). I am thinking big: Clothes! Books! Furniture! Gifts! Think of a magical world where you could drive up to Victoria Secret's menu and order a six pack of briefs, 2 miracle bras and a little something for dessert.

Here, take this for the road:

Last week I went with a girlfriend to have our make-up done at a local department store. It was a very nice department store. So nice that I had never even been inside it.

We ate lunch at a chic bistro and walked down to Barney's for our 1 pm appt. We were seeing Jeff who was a traveling MAC rep. and wizard of all things make-up. She sat down in Jeff's chair first and I sat down for face preparation work with one of Jeff's assistant. We were treated like queens and were laughing and joking so much that periodically make-up application ceased to allow us to double over. Jeff finished with my friend's make-up and she looked glamorous. I sat down in his chair. He took a look straight in my face:
Jeff: *serious inhale gasp* Girl, who does your brows?
me: nobody
Jeff: *hand to heart, stepping back in horror* Can I fix that for you?
me: I'll take all the help I can get
Jeff: *scrambling for tweezers* I used to shape brows and have in my mind exactly what you need
me: great
Jeff: *still scrambling for tweezers, now frantically* Where are my tweezers?

At this point a full on tweezers hunt in Barney's was on. Jeff had left his out of his make-up bag. Every other make-up artist in the store was now searching fervently for their tweezers. When this resulted in no tweezers a discussion group ensued about where to go PURCHASE tweezers in the mall. Then Jeff had a light bulb moment:

Jeff: Oh, I forgot! I am in Dallas. My little button is just down the hall!

He raced to the phone and made a call. It was a fashion 911 call to his little button. He returned triumphant in the news. "My little button can fit you in RIGHT NOW, but we have to get moving." So, Jeff and his assistant, my dear friend and I parade out of Barney's little button bound. I have to admit that I had no idea what was going on at this point, but it was an adventure and I was obviously in serious need of this attention.

Little button turned out to be a very nice make-up artist at the mall Lancombe store who had worked previously with Jeff. She drew, waxed, plucked and primped the heck out of my brows and when she was done she spun my chair around and huge sigh of relief erupted in the room. I had been saved from my low maintenance ways. It was fixed. The make-over could now continue...

Which it did and when completed I looked super fabulous. Yeah!

I bought these:Stated nutritional information for one kid serving:
Calories 130
Fat 2g
Carbohydrate 26g
Fiber <1g
Sugar 8g
Protein 2g
Crap. How am I supposed to calculate it based on these results?
While you are pondering that, please let me know how to figure it out for a PB&J (insides only):


This is a 2 y/o driver:
This is why insurance companies don't insure 2 y/o drivers:
ahhhh, how cute. His first car accident. We are currently in heated negotiations with the elephant to avoid a whiplash lawsuit.

This morning while shopping it was mommy nirvana:
Starbucks and wide open aisles at Target.

Last year in January, I took blog-Stedman to Las Vegas for our 15th wedding anniversary. I made all the arrangements as a surprise. He really doesn't like to travel and he hates surprises so I don't really think I was paying attention in our marriage at that point, but that is not this story. I had reserved a rental car through one of those online price comparision sites and chosen the cheapest mid-size car since we were not staying on the strip and that is this story...

We get to the car rental place in a colossol line...wait...wait...wait...finally! I sign the paperwork and we are free to find our car in the gigantic parking lot. Our stripped down sedan is a shell of a car. It barely has a steering wheel. We hop in and it stinks. bad. really. really. bad. I want to go get a different car, but my blog-Stedman is tired of the wait and the walk and just wants to get to our hotel. So we are off with him driving the smelly sedan skeleton. We had gone about 3 miles and this conversation emerges:

Him(frustrated): My seat warmer is on.
Me(mocking): This car doesn't have seat warmers, it doesn't even have power windows. It must be the sun from where it was parked. We are in Vegas, baby (the baby was added to this story for dramatic effect and did not appear in the actual story).

2 miles later,
Him(exasperated): My seat warmer is on!
Me(exasperated and mocking): THIS CAR DOESN'T HAVE SEAT WARMERS. Why would they need seat warmers in this part of the country? It is January. It is 70 degrees.
(I know it gets cold in Vegas too, but really seat warmer cold? I think not.)

1 mile later,
Him(exasperated and desperate): My butt is burning! Get the manual out of the glove compartment and look up how to turn off these seat warmers.
Me(assured and being reassuring): There are no seat warmers in this car. They don't need them here and this pile of junk wouldn't have them.

Right then, no mileage has accrued,
Him(exasperated, desperate and close to tears?): My butt is burning if you don't get the manual and turn my seat warmer off I am going to stop this car on the side of the road and do it myself.
Me(quietly offended at being spoken to in that manner): Well OK.

So, I look in the manual and find the seat warmer page (CRAP! A whole page dedicated to seat warmers in this manual is not a good sign for my side of the argument) and found the switch (CRAP!) There is a switch which can only mean... Really people, put two and two together...that car had no business having seat warmers.

GOOD MONDAY MORNING! Are you awake? Are you awake? Are you awake? At this point are you thinking, "Why is Holly so perky and annoying?" Because its potluck!

This one is dedicated to my brother because he said to me this week, "what's with the potluck?" WHAT'S WITH THE POTLUCK? Potlucks don't need an explanation! Of course, a few months ago he said, "what's with the blog?" and now he is hooked. Yep, he will soon be bringing food to share.

My potluck contribution is yummy and nutritious. I pulled the juicer out of the cupboard that I have had for years, made a trip to Costco for large quanitities of fresh fruit and have been juicing my little heart out. My favorite is the pineapple, orange and banana combo. Drink up! It may help ward off all the illness crud that is going around these days and I want my readers to be healthy....although, if you are bored at home with nothing to do but read blogs...just kidding.

Against all odds this blog is being written with a cranky baby on lap.

During the weeks amd weeks we were sick (Illness Watch 2008...get your badge here) Reid(4) missed a karate class. He and Ryan(6) are in the same class so he is used to going with his brother. I took him to make up the class and his brothers were along for the ride. He started fussing before we got to the studio, but Reid can usually be talked out of a tantrum so I wasn't too worried. We get there and it turns into a full-blown scream fest to the effect that he is NOT going to participate. Now what? I can't reward this behavior by going home, but I can't physically force him to participate. We ended up sitting and watching the entire class. That is a lot of fun, watching a karate class that your kid is not participating in with 3 boys....let's do it again! Which is what we have to do because we still haven't made up the class. Episode II, I load up the minivan with all the boys and tell Reid he has to participate (you might want to be taking notes on this amazing parenting technique). We get there and Reid starts to lose it again. He kicks and screams and cries. One of the female teachers takes him aside and talks to him, 10 minutes into the 30 minute class he is still in tantrum-mode. She brings him back and asks Ryan if he would help his brother by joining class. Ryan is a HUGE help and says yes even though he is not dressed for the occasion and was happily playing video games. The minute Reid hits the mat, his is a new person. In fact, within 1 minute he was volunteering to do something, huh? I can't explain this one. Oh, the clencher was that AFTER class I found out that Ryan was a class behind as well so he could and should have been making up a class with Reid. Ugh. I can't keep up.

Blog-Stedman broke down and bought "Rock Band" yesterday which is a derivitive of "Guitar Hero". He is spookingly great at Guitar Hero. I am in favor of the singing portion of Rock Band. So, please come over because we need a bass player. I think he is wondering (like every teenage boy in America) why his mad skillz on Guitar Hero can't translate to a more enjoyable employment. Unfortunately, it is not listed in the want adds or desirable on resumes.

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