Escapism Anyone?

I really love reality tv.  Sometimes the 45 minutes (we DVR and fast forward through those pesky commericals) I spend with my husband on the couch breathing the same air and watching the same (ridiculous) shenanigans is what I look forward to ALL. DAY.  Parked on the couch, staring blankly at the tv, taking in The Amazing Race, Survivor, Top Chef, Project Runway, America's Next Top Model, etc.  Those last two watched after Chris is in bed--he just can't go there.  All of that is build-up for the penultimate reality show for me--So You Think You Can Dance. . . I heart that show.  Big times.

I find I'm wading through some serious exhaustion these days.  This makes me either the laziest person on the planet or the full-time working mom of a three-year old, a nine-month old and finishing up my first trimester of my last pregnancy.  When my OB asked how I was doing and I replied tired, he said it must be because I'm not taking my vitamins.  Sure.  That's why I'm so tired that even uploading pictures and editing them on my computer seems too much.

Clicking the remote?  Totally doable.  So that's where you'll find me these days.  Upping my IQ with the boob tube.  I mean, I do DVR Jeopardy and Private Practice.  Okay, so the last one doesn't really help the IQ, but it's so darn goooood.

Run-Away Day. . .or Life

Sometimes life gets away from you.  You're all, we make dinner, we save money, look at our kids, aren't they great?  Then the universe slaps you back into reality--you know, unplanned pregnancy (at 35) and then chronic exhaustion, husband has to work late, three doctor appointments in one day (we're all fine, don't worry) and you are back in check.  Hell, I was even behind on reading my blogs.

Now I'm all, there are piles of laundry everywhere, dirty dishes in the sink, endless whining of a three-year old, we ran out of homemade baby food, and had to order in 2 times this week out of necessity.

(As for the 3 doctor appointments, B had a follow-up GI appointment (she's doing great), I had an OB appointment, Jose [Baby Three], is doing well and then Brooklyn had a visit with the pediatrician because she's got a cold/ear infection. So nothing major, but it was quite a day).

I get it Universe.  I get it.  Consider me warned.

Three Year Old Logic

Ell:  Mommy, you got a baby in your tummy?

Me:  Yes, I do.

Ell:  Why? (he asks this of everything0

Me:  I just do.

Ell:  It's Minnie's baby.

Me:  Noooo, it's not Minnie's baby. (said through church giggles)

Ell:  Why?

Me:  (stumped)

Blocked by the Big Decisions.

I think I have Blogging-Block.  I have brilliant blogging topic ideas while laying in bed or making a sandwich, but sit down to write and. . . nothing.  For serious.  Or the ideas that come to mind are dumb.  Uninteresting.

The current status of my life is diapers, making formula, working, saying "wait" to one child or the other about 50x per day, rinse and repeat.  The current hot topic for Chris and me is if we will be forced to buy a new vehicle.  You see, the back seat of his truck is pretty small, especially with two carseats.  Add a third?  Ha.  Well, it turns out that there is a super-skinny, super-safe, super-expensive carseat on the market that might make fitting three carseats in his truck a reality.  I say expensive, but compared to purchasing a new-to-us vehicle, there is no comparison.  See?  This is why I have Blogging-Block.  The sheer excitement is too much.

Keep your fingers crossed those darn carseats will fit.  I mean, I'm ready to be a mini-mama, but would rather not incur yet another payment to make.

A Few Cliches & Cuteless Overload

My baby boy is three, y'all.  THREE.












His first 6 months seemed like a hellishly long time, some of which I've tried to remember not to remember.  For real.  But from 6 months on, it's been a fun ride.  I mean, I 'm trying not to get all sappy and full of cliches, but really that's where I head.  I know that first pic is upside down--I have no idea how to fix it and it was just too cute.  The second one is the Ell-Monster headed home from the hospital.

SO to ring in THREE years, we had a big ol' birthday party.  It was unanimous success that cost a small fortune held at E's gymnastics gym.  (I think that's redundant, but I don't know how to fix it.  I blame the baby.  The one in my stomach).  I remember seeing pics from a birthday party one of my friend's had for her one-year-old and that I was certain I was not  going to be the parents with the over-the-top decorations, parent costumes and taking theme to extremes for a TODDLER.

Well, I'm still not that mom.  I was totally swayed to part with my hard-earned Holiday Bonus for birthday party fun because it didn't require crazy cleaning, crazy clean-up or crazy decorations.  I'm lazy, y'all.  I mean, I even ordered decorations from Etsy all printed and cut out instead of the PDFs because it just seemed too much.  None of it mattered because it was FUN.  And now is the time where I convince you by spamming you with cuteness.

How cute is that nephew of mine?  He LOVED the trampoline.  Loved.  

Really what I'm trying to say is that all the kids loved the trampolines.  

Did I mention that the party came with TWO facilitators?  They entertained, organized and corralled children, not to mention that they unloaded my car, decorated the room and then loaded my car back up at the end.  I LURVE them.  

Sweet baby standing up with just a bit of support from Aunt Manny.  No idea why Manny's hand appears purple here.  I must've mucked up the color balance.  Again.

Ell's friend Sophie.  He was beyond excited that his friends from the sitter were there for him.  

A little front roll action for Abby.

The kids loved chasing the balloons.  

Here they are sitting on the parachute.  This activity was beyond fun.  Nope.  I didn't get a picture.  I was having too much fun.   

Sweet Hudson hopping down the trampoline.  He really didn't want to leave that activity

Exactly a millisecond before Ell let go. . . on the count of one, not three.  Silly boy loves to fall into the pit.  

He got a medal! At first he proclaimed that it read "Happy Bir-day, Ehhyaa," but then loudly proclaimed, "I don't want it."  I was proud, I tell you.

So excited about candles.  This was the second attempt, because on the first he blew out the candles before we could sing or snap a picture one.  

With Cheyanne, his buddy from the sitter.

Aunt Deana and Little Bit.  

Balloons are so magical to kids.  I don't know why I forget such simple things.  So yep, it was a good day.  Beyond good.  And no need for me to put on a costume to prove it.  

Two Things That Should NOT Go Together (Adventures in Poop, Vol. IV)

First trimester pregnancy and potty training.  Let me be more specific:  first trimester pregnancy and those potty chairs that require dumping of the matter into the actual toilet and then sanitizing (by. hand.) the pot.  My nemesis.  The Ell-Monster would prefer this little chamber pot (who knew I would ever have a use for this term in my for-real life?) because his feet touch, but selfish mommy has now hidden the insert for the chair because I.can't.handle.it.  I'm pretty much an awesome mom.

I may have mentioned these things not belonging together a time or two in previous blog posts, but I feel like I need to reiterate just in case anyone might be wondering.  I would not recommend it.  I could have written tonight about the amazing book I'm reading, birthday party adventures or even my craptastic day at work.  But somehow the lure of poop and pregnancy was calling again.