Word on the street these days has it that a Sunday well spent brings a week of content. It makes sense, that little buzz phrase. Whatever your definition of “well spent”, the idea that being productive in mind and/or body over the weekend sets you up for Monday-morning success makes some sense. I can dig it. 
Ideally, “well spent” should have mean staying in bed until noon and hanging out on the couch in my underwear. In reality, there was a lot on the agenda this last weekend: soccer games and birthday parties and massive amounts of homework; a thousand chores and a billion errands; a birthday to prepare for, workouts to fit in, and a garden to plant, so “well spent” meant running around between three different counties in order to *try* to cross off a thousand to-dos without losing a kid or my cool. And it was a success. Mostly. If you count success only by the fact that I didn’t lose a kid or my cool and completely ignore the fact that I didn’t get as much done as I’d hoped. 
At times the weekend was frustrating, and it sucked. Like the part where Briseis and I showed up to her soccer game at 7:30 am on Saturday morning two towns over just to figure out we were nearly three hours early because I had been emailed the wrong team’s schedule. Or the part where I got rammed by a cart full of boxed produce at the commissary because the employee wasn’t paying attention and ran into me at full speed. Or the part where Emma peed on the floor and Madden mashed strawberries into the carpet. Or the part where I took a chunk out of my thumb when a plate broke while I was doing the dishes. Or the part where Madden mistook a football shaped bowl for an actual football and threw it right on top of Shannon’s foot while she was doing the dishes, shattering it into pieces. Or the part where the one thing I reaaaally wanted to do this weekend — plant the garden — didn’t get done. 
But there were also plenty of parts this weekend that didn’t suck. Like the part where I completely caught up on Project Life. Or the part where I knocked out 11 of the 13 homework assignments I wanted to get done. Or the part where the littles and I took an impromptu trip to the pet store and then to one of our favorite playgrounds. Or the part where Shannon surprised me with fresh flowers Saturday afternoon. Or the part where I got an email letting me know my credit score jumped 23 points since last month. Or the part where I got to run errands on Sunday ALONE. Or the part where the TV didn’t get turned on once before the sun set because the kids spent the entire weekend playing outside. Especially that part.
Briseis spent every waking, day-lit moment outside with Mya, the only other girl in the neighborhood and one that happens to be in the same grade as her, which made me happy because 1) it was one less kid in the house, but also because 2) friends that aren’t a brother or sister or a soccer teammate is something that she needs. I often worry that Briseis’s childhood isn’t ‘enough’. That she spends too much time inside, plugged into one screened device or another, and not enough time outside getting dirt under her nails and scrapes on her knees. That she is left to rely on siblings and family members for social interaction instead of having a group of friends outside of school and soccer practice that she gets to regularly play with. I’m so thankful that we have another little girl her age that lives four doors down, and a handful of other kids that live on our street, for her to socialize with.
All in all, I’d call the weekend a success. I got a lot done, the kids had fun (and stayed out of my way while doing it), and I went to bed early enough last night to wake up this morning before my alarm went off, which means I started this week before on time. Setting myself up for success. I like it. Now let’s see how long I can keep this trend going. 
Happy Monday, bitches. Be rad. 

April 7, 2014 in photos, life lately

When I was a couple months pregnant with Madden I came across this image and thought it was funny in a cutesy sort of way, but I never imagined just how true it would ring. And holy hell let me tell you, #TRUTH. 

And this little twerp proved it last weekend, in the course of a single day. In one day — ONE DAY — he drew all over himself with pen (yes, that’s a hot pink arm cuff that he’s ROCKING…#thembasicbitchescannotcompete), ate a dirt flavored popsicle (literally), smeared more jam all over his face than he got in his tummy, painted himself in yogurt (though it wasn’t as cute as the very first time, and it definitely wasn’t as bad as the time Emma fed herself yogurt for the first time ever), and (two days before all the rest of these incidents) decided to go fishing for shit in the back of his diaper. Like, literally. Fishing. FOR SHIT. #elbowsdeep






Such a disgusting, dirty little dude. But I wouldn’t trade his stinky, messy, loud little butt for anything. Except for maybe a week without kids. Or free daycare. I’d trade all of my kids AND a couple of my organs for either of those things. NO BULLSHIT.


March 12, 2014 in photos, lol, madden

















Last Wednesday night we were buried beneath a foot of snow. A foot of snow isn’t very much to a lot of people, I know. But a foot of snow here is an impetus for total chaos. Needless to say, Thursday was a snow day. The government closed, daycare closed, even fucking Dominos was closed. WHAT THE HELL?!

RJ still had to work, though, so it was just the kids and me All. Day. Long. Maybe that sounds like fun to you, but I guarantee you it wasn’t fun. Snow days aren’t exactly fun when you’re a parent and 1) hate the cold but also 2) hate being cooped up inside and 3) have a shit ton of super time-intensive homework to do. But it’s the hand we were dealt so it’s the hand we played. For like, 15 minutes.

While the kids hung around on the couch watching cartoons and eating waffles, I ran around the house trying to find shit for them to wear in the snow. The only reason Emma had anything remotely snow-appropriate to wear was because mi amiga Heather dropped off piles and piles of hand-me-downs a few months ago, which happened to contain snow boots, snow pants, and a rain coat. So, you know, THANKS, HEATHER! Madden, on the other hand, was SOL. I had to double up his socks, his pants, and triple up his shirts and even then he definitely didn’t stay dry. 

Neither one of the kids had any idea what was going on or how to play in the snow, which was a little embarrassing but also relieving because I wasn’t trying to spend all day out there in the freezing fucking cold. Emma was more concerned with cleaning the snow off the car than she was with playing in or with it, and Madden mostly just stood around looking perplexed or smacking the snow with his cutie little mittened hands. I snapped a few photos, called it good, and bribed the kids back inside with promises of Barney and treats. Thank god they both were totally fine with coming in and playing inside for the rest of the day because I have exactly zero amount of time to dedicate to the fucking cold. I really need to move to the beach.


February 17, 2014 emma, in photos, madden, memories