Where am I?

Oct 30, 2014 by

Last week I traveled for work and this week I was in training until yesterday afternoon. I can’t even remember what I’m supposed to be doing right now – as is evidenced by my super late post.

Here are some things. In no particular order.

  • I made a menu for next week. I KNOW. See? I was so productive with that, I might as well just call this week a success.
  • My friends are just the greatest. All of them. For no reason and all the reasons.
  • I’m so freaking excited my kids love their Halloween costumes. No, Audrey is not going as Elsa because Halloween requires a costume and Audrey is Elsa errr day.

The Supers.

True sisters

Oct 16, 2014 by

My girls are best friends. Seriously. About 88% of the time, they really and truly enjoy being in each other’s company. Which makes me happy.

The thing that is funny to me is how different these two children are. These two girls who are only 22 months apart and being raised by the same parents in the same house could not be more different.

While they share a family resemblance (I think?), they even look very different. But, that’s only the beginning. Some of their personality traits follow the “traditional” oldest child/youngest child stereotypes – Olivia is the bossy, rule-following, protective, big sister and Audrey is the (somewhat) easygoing, rule-breaking, coddled, little sister.

Livie Lou: Big Sister

Treat yo self. {A Foxwoods Review & Giveaway}

Oct 9, 2014 by

Recently, my fellow blogger Jenn and I suffered the excruciating hardship of enduring  60 minute signature massages at the hands of the folks at the Norwich Spa at Foxwoods. Listen to this torture: This beautifully choreographed, full-body, firm massage will release the tension in the entire back and shoulders, leaving you with a renewed sense of well-being. 

I KNOW. Can you believe what we go through in the name of sisterhood? Look how tired and sad we are:

Poor unfortunate souls. In pain. In need.

Just kidding, you guys. This. was. AMAZING. Jenn and I walked into the spa and were instantly relaxed, which is saying something since between us, we have four small daughters — and y’all know how relaxing THAT is. We arrived a little early, as suggested, so that we could enjoy the amenities of the spa: a gorgeous pool, sauna, and hot tub. It was enough for me, though, to lounge in my comfy spa-provided robe and sip a beverage in silence.

I Let My Daughter Quit

Oct 2, 2014 by

Oh, extracurricular activities. How I love SLASH hate you. My girls have been involved in various activities (outside of full-day full-time daycare since early infancy) beginning at age one. From gym classes to swimming lessons to soccer to dance to golf, we’ve tried it.

I wasn’t involved in anything outside of school when I was young and I’m pretty positive it’s directly related to my having a difficult time getting jazzed about sports/outdoor activities/exercising/moving IN GENERAL as an adult. I’m just… whatever. I’m old and set in my ways and leave me alone I have some crosswords to do.

But, my husband is Mr. Activity. He’s involved in at least one (not at all time consuming or annoying to me) activity outside of his full time job at any given time of year. The following list is to give you an idea of what I’m dealing with as his wife, it is BY NO MEANS exhaustive:

Things My Kids Do to Keep Me from Selling Them to Gypsies*

Sep 25, 2014 by

Kids, man. So difficult, so frustrating, so infuriating while simultaneously (or darn near it) so adorable, so kind, so forgiving, so loving. How do they do that??

My kids are experts. And please don’t think I’m bragging. I can assure you that I am not. I wish they failed horribly at this, but they are smooth criminals, people.

This morning, for example. It was a pretty typical school day morning. Nobody’s listening, everyone’s whining, sisters are fighting, doors are slamming… nobody has gone potty or brushed her teeth and everyone is crying and CALGON TAKE ME AWAY.

All of a sudden, Olivia’s attitude flips like a switch. She saunters over to me, sits down on the floor (next to me, because I’m pinning Audrey down while trying to secure her sneaker without breaking her flailing little foot), takes my hand and Audrey’s hand (bold move, sister.). She then says, quietly, “Mommy, you don’t like it when I yell. It makes you mad. I don’t like it when you yell. It makes me sad and it makes Audrey cry and it makes you and Daddy fight. We should all try very hard to be gentle.”

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