Seeing Red...

And pink.

Ok, and maybe a splash of white.

Say all you want that Valentine's Day is a made-up holiday designed by Hallmark for the hopeless romantics like myself, but this Pisces ain't buyin' it. From the moment my parents placed a little cellophane bag of sugar coated hearts in my tiny palm, I was sold. Single, broken-hearted, quasi-committed or married, February 14 is one day I celebrate like most do Christmas.

Now if I could just convince the retailers to create a "red Thursday" or something to beef up their themed stuff. Anything with class is quite lacking I must say for this important event. But here are a few things up my sleeve this year:

Our family valentine that will hit a few mailboxes (cute back not shown here but featues Daddy high-flying our son and says something that might make you gag with the words "soar, love" and more:

Stationery card

View the entire collection of cards.

For little dude's pre-school exchange:

Source: batemanbuzz.blogspot.com via Megan on Pinterest

And for his wardrobe to capture the ladies' attention:


Gift for the hubs (the glasses he's been craving):

A half-day vacation to spend with my Valentines on a cupcake date:


Plus a slew of tacky decor posted in our home and my office.

So if you're planning on hangin' with me at all around this time, prepare for that obnoxious grin and squeals of delight in reaction to all the love around. And seeing lots of red.

And pink.

And a bit o' white.

Happy almost Valentine's Day!

Oh Sh*t, II

“Hold on Mom, I gotta check this text out – it might be from Mike,” I said as I rummaged through the disaster that is my purse, tossing aside diapers, loose change, water bottles, toy trucks and more (yes – it’s a big handbag). Responding to its insistent dings, I found the iPhone screen to read:

WELL, NO NAP TODAY BUT ON THE PLUS SIDE I DID GET TO CLEAN THE SH*T THAT HE PULLED OUT OF HIS DIAPER AND WIPED ALL OVER HIS ROOM.

Yep, it was my husband.

Torn between chuckling and being slightly alarmed, I respond:

Me: Waaaaaa? (as if I’m surprised a toddler splayed poo around his room at some point in his two-year old life).
Him: YEAH, IT WAS GREAT.
Me: I’ll help detox when I get home – sorry honey. Do you need me now? (Note: this was a test. There is no way in the relaxed one hour I had to myself in the past month I was going to go home and clean poo…I can do that any day. Wait, I do that every day.
Him: NO – I THINK THAT I ALREADY GOT IT ALL. IT WAS ON THE DOOR, HIS BED, LOVEY, WALL AND WHO KNOWS WHERE ELSE.

Feeling a bit guilty for missing this milestone event, I nabbed a few more things at Target, including a candy bar because surely I was going to need that to cope with the emotional disasters I was sure to be returning to at home. (Reflecting now, a chocolate bar was not the best choice.) A short drive later, tunes cranked up, I return to two boys still in shock from the whole thing. Little dude is feeling guilty and mortified about the happenings while the hubs is still lightly gagging in the corner.

Boys – clearly they don’t have enough experience with sh*t in their lives.

I enter little dude’s room to find it smelling mostly of Clorox and spot-free. As he reiterates the story over and over of how he just wanted the stuff out of his diaper and then wasn’t quite sure what to do once it got on his hands (he had reached into the back), I held him close and said: “Son – I love you and I’m not mad at all. Let’s just work to keep our poopies in our diaper or the toilet, ok bud?"

One squishy hug and a kiss later, I taught him one of life’s most important lessons:
“In life – sh*t happens. But you know what? We’ll love you anyway.”

A lesson we should all keep in mind as life passes us by.

Plus, it wasn't nearly as interesting as our first brush with sh*t.

Here’s hoping your week is sh*t-free!

Because I Have No Words...

I'll let Taylor say it for me.

I had no idea how much fun two would be. Every little bit of it.

It's not that I don't want you to grow up, little dude. It's just that all this, right here, right now, is insanely remarkable.

I love you more than anything. Thanks for the magic.

Top 10 Ways My Son is Like a Rapper

1.) He beat boxes. Literally. Thanks for the lessons, Biz Markie.
2.) Breakdancing is a regular occurrence, generally between the hours of 7:30 and 8:30 p.m. My guess is a rapper’s timeframe is slightly later in da club.
3.) His rhymes are original. Sure it’s more likely they include the word “reindeer,” “duck” or “clown” vs. something hip or hop, but hey, he’s rhyming.
4.) A head bob always follows a good beat in the car. And in rhythm. You go boy.
5.) Walking is not generally how he flows. He makes his way to a from with a bit of a swagger. And by swagger I may mean robot arms, leg bends, squats, skips, etc. Surely that’s swag for a two-year old.
6.) He digs bling, particularly heavy necklaces. In fact, he chose Daddy’s Jayhawk Mardi Gras beads as his show-and-tell item the other day.
7.) He’s constantly sporting shades. Recently he’s moved to aviators. So Kanye.
8.)“Hey gril!” is a frequent phrase used in public places when he’s talking to small female children who can’t really hear him. Gril=girl. And he’s more shouting because they are doing something he prefers to be doing, but this still counts as I imagine it will come out in a smug grin and smooth tone one day. PS: I dread this day.
9.) He likes to count money and throw it in the air. And yes, we catch it on video. Small differentiator: they’re likely pennies from his bank vs. the benjamins spotted on BET.
10.) Rockin’ the mic is his thing. He grips it close and does shout outs directly into it as he prances about the fireplace, aka “stage.”

Now whether this will help pay his way through college or our nursing home bills is still up in the air, but for now, it sure is a lot of fun to watch.

Thanks for keepin’ it real, little buddy. Thanks for keepin' it real.

What She Said

This little doozie was all over the web today, gobbled up by mostly Moms that likely feel just like her.

You know, like me.

Lesson learned: "So, maybe instead of tearing each other up, we could each admit that we're a bit torn up about our choices, or lack thereof. And we could offer each other a shoulder or a hand. And then maybe our girls would see what it really means to be a woman."

Well said, Momastery, well said.

Little Bit at a Time

So the whole New Years resolutions/vision board/just write it on a post-it at least thing didn’t so much happen this month. And now that we’re rollin’ into February, I’m just going to go ahead and return those paints and artsy fartsy fun things that would have made for a killer goal-oriented piece of art to hang in our bathroom. My guess is that’s ok, since things like “hanging a picture” is generally on about a two to three year timeline these days. Instead, we’re taking a stab at plan B:

The declutter and organize calendar. Found on Pinterest, of course.

Admittedly we’re sitting at January 21 with only two items crossed off, but hey, it’s a start right? And speaking of new beginnings, I tackled our junk drawer at 6:42 a.m. today:

And I’m not even nesting or hormonal. That’s how you know you’re house has driven you to the brink of insanity.

Secretly, I’m so pumped about the junk drawer cleanup that I nearly posted a picture on Facebook. And texted 10 of my closes friends. Ok, and I did show a photo to my Mom. I mean, it’s been one of those dark crevices that you constantly have to open because a guest asks you for the one item that rests right inside that drawer, right? Totally. And then you have to do that whole announcement about how it’s a place to stash your trash, yadda yadda.

I’m quickly discovering I don’t have an excuse for the rest of the house. And also? I don’t know what to do with the crap that I took out of there and requires a home, so I stuck it in a Target bag to deal with another day. But still:

The junk drawer is a breath of fresh air.

Little bit at a time, right?!

Loads of Laughs

An accent that sounds alarmingly like all of my extended family members. Takes place in one of my favorite stores. Includes ridiculous one-liners, particularly about home decor (remember the baby sneakers and now the one-eye?) that's totally worth the lines around my face.

Target Lady, I love you. Thanks for the loads of laughs.