Green With Envy

I see the men in my neighborhood look. I do. Their eyes catch mine as I walk up and down my lawn. I sometimes feel like I am on Desperate Housewives. Sometimes they wave. Sometimes they smile. Sometimes I get both. I wave back and say hello. If their wives only knew. I never see the wives. They are never outside and they are never doing what I am doing. Why am I getting so much attention? Is it because I am wearing something sexy? No. Is it because of my legs? No. Do you want to know why I am getting their attention? They can't believe I am mowing the lawn. Most of our neighbors have a lawn service. But for the few that mow their own, I have never seen another woman out there mowing the lawn. I think I would fall over if I did.

I could also be getting so much attention because of the sexy number I wear on my feet:

And if I am feeling really ambitious, I weed wack.

So ladies, if you want to feel like a million bucks in your neighborhood, start pushing the mower. You will certainly get the attention of the menfolk in your suburb. Or at least your one and only will be thrilled that you mowed the lawn.

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Note: Kyle, age 4, was so excited to be allowed to use our new camera to take these shots. Of the shots he took, I was headless more often that not.

Letting Summer Go

I am always cold. Even in the summer, it is not uncommon to find me wearing my slippers and a sweatshirt. I prefer no air conditioning. But, unfortunately, I have lost that battle with my husband and kids. So, air conditioning it is.


I love the heat. I love everything about summer. There is one thing that I hate. The end. I start to get depressed just knowing that the end is near. When I worked at a college, I was lucky because the end of summer meant that it was going to get crazy at my job. Crazy! Students moved back to campus. My phone rang off the hook and I was gearing up for the start of classes. As a SAHM, we are back to school but it just isn't the same. The adrenaline doesn't flow so I am back to being a little depressed that the days are getting a little shorter and the leaves are starting to turn on some trees. In an Indigo Girls song called "Mystery", one of my favorite lyrics is "The summer is beginning to give up her fight." It is so true. This is the time of year when summer begins to say goodbye and fall sneaks in.



So this weekend, I soaked up as much summer as I could. I sat outside on the deck boat watching as much as I could. I got into the ice cold swimming pool because it was probably my last chance for the year and my son begged me. I took my time walking my dog so I could look at the stars on a crystal clear night. We spent the last weekend at the peaceful, Catawba Island near Sandusky, Ohio. We are lucky enough to be able to mooch weekends at a condo that Mike's parents own. We try to get up there as often as we can. This weekend we took the kids on the boat, jet ski and to Cedar Point. We had a wonderful time with Mike's parents and the kids enjoyed every second.


So goodbye sweet summer. You are my favorite. I will enjoy the others but you will be the one I am dreaming about on a cold snowy February in Ohio. Go ahead and give in summer. Give up the fight. It will soon be time. Let go. I am ready. I have my sweatshirt and slippers ready.

The Wrong Way to Get Rid of Clutter

This is the light that I should have turned on.

These are the toys that I told my kids to throw down the basement stairs (really). Well, except for R2 D2, he's heavy.

This is the basket I carried down the stairs, without the light and full of toys.

This is the toy that I stepped on and crushed.

These are the stairs that I fell down last night.

No broken bones but definitely feeling it today. Lesson learned.

Blondes Build Better Mouse Traps

A few weeks ago, a friend saw me for the first time in months. She exclaimed "Your hair...it's so....blooooonde." Yep. Yes, it is.

I sure had a blonde moment this morning. Ryan celebrated his sixth birthday yesterday. One of his gifts was Mouse Trap. He loves it and cannot wait to play it. Neither could his little brother. While his big brother was at kindergarten, Kyle begged for me to open the game. He pleaded. He begged some more. I said no. I could see from the box that there were a lot of parts. I just didn't have time. I wasn't in the mood to pull out the directions. I told him my usual "Wait until Daddy gets home. He's good at that sort of thing."

I started to clean up for a visit from the in-laws. Guilt started oozing while I washed my floors. Just follow the diagrams. Take it line by line. You can do it. I quickly washed the floors and played with Kyle.

I pulled out the directions for the game. I pulled out the instructions for putting all of the pieces together. Insert blonde moment here. I have never played the game and didn't know that the GOAL OF THE GAME IS TO BUILD THE MOUSE TRAP. I put the whole game together. I was so proud of myself. Well, until I pulled out the directions to the game and realized that the kiddos are supposed to put the mousetrap together piece by piece as they play. Damn.

Oh man. I giggled at myself for the rest of the morning. So yes friend, my hair is blonde. It sure is.

Little Earthquakes

Tori Amos had an album out years ago called "Little Earthquakes." I was too young to really grasp the meaning of the title but I loved the album. My husband and I are again wrestling with the topic of the third child, I told him that we have to table the discussion. We are not even at a place where we can talk about. There are too many little earthquakes in our lives right now. Too many transitions and unanswered questions to add another to our lives.

One of our little earthquakes was that my oldest went to kindergarten last Thursday. He was ready and so was I. In preparation of the many sheets of paper that will soon make its way into my house, I went through all of the artwork from preschool. What a change! I had to make two piles. One to save and one to throw away. I definitely felt a little earthquake as I packed some of the sheets into the garbage bag. I know I can't keep every piece of paper. Knowing this did not make the task any easier. I feel the shift of my little boy into a little student. I hid the secret stash of papers until the boys went downstairs and tip-toed down to the garage with my bag. I know that I will be happy that I did this so that next fall, I will have less papers to deal with. But, it was such an emotionally charged task. Where did my little boy go?

Lots of little earthquakes but no major quakes. Changes that we all deal with. Transitions for us and our children. We'll get back to our major discussion of whether to add another child to our family but for now, we are going to take each little earthquake as they come.

Used To Be a Fan of Old Fashioned Birthday Parties

I have read many posts where people are against the big birthday parties for kids. I wrote one myself. But, I have to be honest, I have taken a walk on the dark side and guess what? I like it. I like it a lot.

I am having my oldest's birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese's on Saturday. I am so stress free that I am almost forgetting that I am having the party.

Normally, I am fretting about the state of my house. I am cleaning. I am shopping for food for adults that won't eat. I am worrying how I will entertain the kids. I spend so much time and energy before party worrying. I know. I know. There is no need. I get that. But, I do. Nothing will change that. It is just who I am.

I called my sister who is also taking a walk on the dark side this weekend for her twins and she is also carefree. We are like giddy school girls. We both can't believe how easy this is. This is the reason why there are so many people having parties at bouncy places, pizza places and party centers.

Parents are busy and this is so easy. Yes, there is a place for the old-fashioned birthday party. I have had those and I am sure we will have them again. Ryan asked for this party and I thought I was giving in. He has no idea how happy this party has made me this week. We'll see if I am so carefree after two hours in Chuck E. Cheese's with 12 boys and 2 brave girls. Good thing I bought a bottle wine for my hubby and I for Saturday night. We are going to need it.

OK, Why Lie?

OK. I am feeling guilty. Guilty for causing any mothers out there some grief. The other day, I wrote about how Jennifer Lopez has said that she has not had a nanny. She said she and her husband Marc Anthony have been doing it all without help. I was really impressed. Lately after reading the book, You'll Never Nanny in this Town Again, I have been pretty annoyed at celebrities who claim that they can do it all and be great mothers (without help). It just isn't possible. I don't work and there are days that I am not a very good mother. If I was at the gym hours a day, going to the salon, having photos shoots, interviews and filming, I doubt that I could squeeze in quality time with my kiddos. I would need help. Someone has to help with the kids. Just doing regular things with children like bathing them, feeding them and caring for them takes up most of the day.

So back to J. Lo. One of my readers, Jessica, emailed me a piece that blasted J. Lo. It said that there is no way that she doesn't have help. She must. She is just not calling her help a "nanny."
Think about it. I personally have seen J. Lo and Marc's pictures in People. They are out to dinner. Do you think Jenny's mom came in to babysit? All relatives? No. Probably a paid babysitter or nanny.

I don't even work and I have help. Not paid but I am in a babysitting co-op. We trade hours with each other instead of money. I have help. I have around 25 women that I can call at any time to help me with my kids. My life is pretty ordinary compared to J. Lo and I have help. How can two superstars be without help for the past six moths like she is claiming? Just not true.

So I apologize. J. Lo has lied and I don't want to cheer her on like I did in my last post. Being a mom is hard enough without the media claiming that motherhood is easy. You can't do everything. You can't be perfect. It is OK to take care of your children and not run triathlons. It is OK to not lose the 50 lbs. from your pregnancy in six months. It is OK to not get a shower. It is OK to put that hair back in a ponytail if you can't get a second to wash it. And you know what J. Lo, it is OK to admit that you need help and have a babysitter sometimes. It is OK.