Hello I'am Meggan Welcome to my website.
My husband Ettore got these Pez dispensers for us when we first started dating. I am Peppermint Patty and he is Charlie Brown. We haven’t seen each other much lately because I have been staying at my Mom’s with Lucas, since Lucas got sick. I was able to come home briefly today and these Pez were waiting for me on my pillow…I think my husband is trying to tell me something…I wonder what it could be?
Ladies, I have just purchased a piece of budding designer greatness. Witness an original Chandler duct tape wallet, created by 10-year-old Chandler. This wallet is one of a kind. Having this wallet is like having a 3rd grade finger painting by Picasso, or a girl scout scarf knitted by Coco Chanel.
Ettore and I had gone for a drive after we went to watch Reilly’s basketball game. We were just driving through neighborhoods not looking for anything special. As we approached an average suburban house there stood young Chandler. He was standing at the end of his driveway holding a little picket sign advertising what I thought was a lemonade stand. Little did I know lemonade stands were passe when you are a budding young designer.
Me: “Are you selling lemonade?”
Chandler: (showing restraint) “um, no. I am selling duct tape wallets that I created.”
Me: (also trying to show restraint and not throw myself out of the car) “ETTORE STOP THE CAR, HE HAS WALLETS!!” Side note: I love a good wallet, handbag, or accessory.
So we pulled over and Chandler showed us his Spring 2009 wallet collection. Selling price $3.00 for one or two for $5.00 Sold! I took the red one. When I asked Chandler why he added the silver stripe of duct tape to the red wallet, Chandler patiently replied, “to break up the red of course.”
Of course, my bad.
I love this wallet and I actually use it to hold my receipts. Every time I use it, it makes me smile. We went to leave, and Chandler went back to work selling his wallets. As we turned to drive around the corner Chandler called out, “Be sure to come back next week…I’m making matching duct tape purses!!”
Bless you my child.
Once you have children the first thing to go, besides your waistline, plucked eyebrows, fashion sense, clean floors, sense of direction, memory, and pedicures, is the ability to commit to scheduled plans. I would say that I make it to about 20% of the appointments that I schedule. With that average, if I were a baseball player I would definitely have a scorching steroid problem to stay in the game. Well, I don’t play baseball much, or have a steroid problem. I have cancelitis: the chronic canceling of plans.
Cancelitis affects all mothers, but especially mothers of toddlers and young babies. My calendar is nothing more than wishful thinking with lines scratched though dates of appointments. The biggest pain in the ass is always have to come up with watered down reasons why I can’t make it to an appointment. I always say, “sorry the baby is unexpectedly sick, or I we just couldn’t seem get out of the house in time.” Which is true.
Sometimes though I fantasize about just letting the truth hang on out. I fantastize about calling up the hair salon, and when the nineteen-year-old stylish salon receptionist curtly asks why I can’t make the appointment I want to tell her to go Google explosive diarrhea. Tell her what she is looking at on Google is only partially contained in my son’s diaper, the rest is on me. THAT is the reason I will not be making it to get my hair trimmed, and thanks to hormones after pregnancy, get the back of my neck shaved.
I want to tell the dentist that I am sorry that I have to cancel my appointment for a teeth cleaning because I have not been able to be very clean myself as of late…and my teeth are just scratching the surface. We are waaaay beyond not flossing. With the house, dishes, laundry for three boys, toys, cars, bathrooms, and baby butt to keep clean, sometimes I don’t see a shower or toothbrush, for quite a while.
I have cancelitis this morning. I was supposed to meet a contractor at the house to get an estimate on a bike shed. Fair enough. Then I spent all last night in the ER with a son who was spiking a 104.5 fever and coughing his lungs out. Turns out my baby has pneumonia. Once again I have packed up to my Mom’s and we are hopefully on the mend, but meeting the contractor will regretfully not happen.
Sometimes when you have cancelitis friends cancel you. I was actually dropped by a new friend, also a new Mother oddly enough, because I wasn’t returning ALL her phone calls. It truly wasn’t intentional. I want to keep up with everyone, but with three kids…etc. etc. etc. I honestly don’t know where the days go.
Unless you have walked a mile in my bathrobe holding a baby, while doing homework with a twelve-year-old, while texting your teenage stepson so you know where he is after school…don’t judge.
The good news, my friends with older children tell me that the cancelitis gets better as your children get older. You are never 100% cured of cancelitis, but you can manage it with childcare, play dates, and hopefully a little one with a rockin’ immune system by the time he starts school. That being said, my good friend Cheryl just had to cancel dinner plans last weekend when both her girls (age 6 and 7) unexpectedly came down with the flu. We are hoping to get together some time before her kids start high school.
THE SUPERGLUE IN QUESTION HAS GONE MISSING!
Several posts ago I wrote about a mystery in our household. I had brought some superglue into this house and the only thing that ended up getting mysteriously glued together were the scissors. Someone had gotten into the glue. I put on my sleuth hat and shook down the boys for a confession as to the true identity of the serial gluer. Neither one cracked. Oddly enough, the scissors have now become unglued, but Exhibit A, my prime evidence, the glue bottle itself has gone missing. This is a tough case, I am obviously dealing with a professional.
I have a problem…I think my small car makes my Mom butt look big. I’ve had it. I’m giving up on diet and exercise to make my butt look smaller, tomorrow I am buying a Hummer.
I have risen to new heights in Motherhood…81 1/8″ of new height to be exact, courtesy of Reilly’s IKEA bunk bed.
I was told Motherhood would be a whole different level.
We have been having a lot of bed and sleeping drama as of late. Lucas is not sleeping, which means I am not sleeping, which means Ettore is not sleeping. On top of that our bed broke, nothing scandalous from the throws of passion. Ettore simply sat on the bed and a few of the nails gave out on the support beams causing the mattress with me on it to go thudding to the floor. All I could think of at first was, thank God it wasn’t me that broke the bed. I am having enough body issues without a bed breaking underneath my weight!
It took a few days to get it fixed, and since we didn’t have the older boys we took up residence in their room. After both of us struggled to get comfortable on Harrison’s double bed I reached for the stars and climbed the bunk bed ladder. All 5’10″ of me spent the night in the bunk bed. Who says you can’t revisit your childhood. This time though a trip back to childhood also includes a trip to the adulthood chiropractor.
I wanted to CRY!! The photo above is from my latest visit to Target. What you are looking at is my coffee that spilled ALL the way from the front door of Target, to my car. WAAHHH…NOT MY COFFEE!!! For a Mom who is EXHAUSTED, you know we live on one thing and that is coffee. To see all that liquid gold spilled on the ground was heartbreaking. I just stood there staring at the ground in disbelief…WHAT…HOW…WHY GOD WHY!!! Where did I go wrong? Was it checkout? Was it when I checked my receipt, was it when I re-positioned Lucas in the shopping cart? Breath Mom breath. I had to pull myself together, I was losing it. They are right, never cry over spilled milk, coffee.
Double up on the Prozac ladies, because the tears are going to flow! Gather up the babies and rock them as you listen to this hauntingly beautiful new album, by multi-platinum artist Jewel, titled Lullaby. The album is available for pre-sale on Jewel’s website, www.jeweljk.com, and will be autographed if you pre-order online. There are samples to listen to on Jewel’s website as well. I ordered my copy and can’t wait to hear the complete album. Lullaby sounds amazing, this album is how I wish my voice sounded when I sing to Lucas. I am afraid sometimes my frog like croaking rendition of ”Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” will give my little man nightmares. Problem solved, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star is on the album and it takes your breath away it is so gorgeous. Also, makes a great gift. Below is text taken directly from Jewel’s website…
“Multi-platinum singer-songwriter Jewel is partnering with Fisher-Price and Somerset Entertainment to debut her first-ever independent release, Lullaby. The 15-track album features 10 self-penned songs and a few standards including Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and Somewhere Over the Rainbow. The acoustic record is reminiscent of Jewel’s twelve-time platinum album, Pieces of You. “It’s the perfect album to relax to at the end of a long day,” said Jewel. “It’s really a mood album. It’s great for children, but it was written with adults in mind. I’m really excited about it.” Lullaby was produced by Jewel and recorded at her home studio in Stephenville, Texas. It will be released on May 5th and available at major retailers in the toy and baby departments, as well as online at jeweljk.com and iTunes.”
*I did not receive a product sample or compensation for this post. The views expressed here are my own.
I just uploaded ALL the videos from our family RV trip to Seattle this summer. I had forgotten how many wonderfully embarrassing (for the childen) clips there are. They are never going to take us anywhere again. We aren’t saving for college, we are saving for therapy. Click on Dancing Queens below and ENJOY! I highly recommend dancing in front of your children. They will be horrified.
I am not pregnant, but lately my appetite and cravings have BEEN OUT OF CONTROL. I want to EAT…and a lot. I thought I had this whole craving thing licked until the following actually happened this afternoon…sigh…
Nice Woman: “Excuse me ma’am, you have a pretzel stuck to your jacket.”
Me: (Mom no longer shocked by what is slathered, stuck, spilt, spit up, or smeared on my clothing): “Oh really? Thanks.”
At that point I plucked the pretzel from the side of my jacket and held it in my hand. As I stared at the pretzel I began to face an internal struggle of epic proportions. All I could think was yummy!
Lord help me I wanted to EAT THE PRETZEL.
I wanted to eat the pretzel, but I KNEW I should throw it away. I held the cute little snack food in my hand for what seemed like an eternity, throw away or eat…throw away or eat…throw away or eat, my mind raced like a runaway freight train in my head. Chooooo-chooooo…EAT EAT EAT…NO GROSS…THROW AWAY THROW AWAY THROW AWAY!!!
I gulped, smiled meekly at the Nice Woman and tossed the cute little snack food in the trash. Bye-bye little random pretzel with your crunchy goodness that I have no idea where you came from or how you got stuck to my jacket. I survived. I did the right thing. The craving had passed. I was so proud of myself I went and ate an entire pizza.
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