The economy ate my wholesale accounts

I've been seeing a slow but steady change over the last couple of years in my business. It started with just a few of my retailers ordering less. Then, a few stores actually closed shop. Over the summer I had a fairly large customer stop sending birthday gifts to his clients. That was a nice chunk of change that we relied on each month that vanished overnight. Two more stores closed. One large retailer stopped ordering all together...and now the first store to ever carry our products, the Anchor Room, has closed their doors too.



Honestly, except for the emotional attachment to Anchor Room, and the relationships built with employees, I haven't really minded the loss of the wholesale accounts. I am a busy mom, with lots on my plate. My day doesn't begin and end with DipSticks, so losing wholesale seemed manageable. After all, I work just as hard on those orders as I do for direct, retail orders, but I make half the money.



Then, the busiest season of the year rolled around and I held my breath. You just literally NEVER know what's around that crazy corner called Christmas Shopping season. As expected, I had very minimal wholesale orders, but I did increase my corporate and retail orders. I think all in all it evened out. I wasn't nearly as stressed this year, which came in handy, given the whole stress eating issue going around here. But, I'm certainly not knocking anyone off the Forbes list anytime soon either.



But, I'm okay with that. For now. I have many things to deal with that are more important than sales and profit loss reports. Kids for one thing. Health is up there pretty high too. Once both kids are in full day school (which will be this August!! Woot!) I will have lots of time, and if all goes as planned, my health will be back on track by then too. So, look out!



I know the economy had a lot to do with my sales decrease locally, but I've witnessed two other food businesses in LA and New York quite literally explode with sales this year. That tells me there's a lot out there in the big ol' interwebs that I have yet to tap. Very exciting and motivating....so now I'm making my list and checking it twice, to make sure I am ready for next years Christmas Shopping season. Many changes to come, but change can be good.

Is there a doctor in the big house?

For Jacob's 4th birthday, we got him a doctor's kit toy. He loves it and plays doctor all the time. Well, all the time except for when he's playing PlayStation Lego games (like batman, indiana jones, and star wars) with his big brother. He has learned the difference between good guys and bad guys, or so it became apparent this morning.

We were loading up the car to get Joshua to school, and Jacob was toting along one of the pieces from his doctor kit. He said, "Mommy! I got my doctor toy!" "Oh great!" I said excitedly. "Are you going to be a doctor when you grow up?" "NO. I'm going to be a bad guy."

That figures....

I'm sorry...First day of what?

Yeah. So. My 5 year old son Joshua is apparently growing up. I tried my best to prevent it. But, he has been nothing but ungrateful of my attempts to slow him down and keep him from entering the real world. The world in which people might actually expect him to pick up after himself, or wipe his own butt. A very scary world, of people who may not laugh at all his quirky jokes. Some people (though not very many) may get annoyed if he says "Watch this out!" 1800 times a day.


At some point he's bound to be called a bad name. There could be kissing involved. He might suck at kick ball...given his genetic pool, there's actually a pretty good chance of that.


But, regardless of my emotional pleas to stay a kid, he has gone and grown up, and will be entering Kindergarten in less than 30 days. I signed him up for registration today, and the administrator showed me the sheet of supplies to get. It just didn't feel right. I can still vividly remember loving the pre-school shopping excursions to get just the right pencils, and the perfect binders and adorable folders with kitties or hearts, or most likely unicorns. Some books I wrapped with cut up shopping bags and decorated them with glee, anticipating the start of what could be the best year ever.


So, this is just wrong. I can't possibly be the parent of a child who is ready to embark on that journey, can I? How will I deal with it? How can I drop him off in the morning and not see him again until 3:30? How will he survive without me?


My first year in Kindergarten was so different than Kindergarten is today. It was only a half day with no homework, and we actually took a nap. I remember playing with blocks and helping to hammer in nails for the "jail" that would be used in the school carnival. I remember my first boyfriend, Jerry Barnes...Holy crap, I had a boyfriend in Kindergarten. That means Joshua could end up with a girlfriend. Oh I'm not ready for this. Maybe we should home school.

I was nearly done in by a kickity kick ball

My son Jacob turned 3 on Friday. I had a heck of a time thinking of what kind of cake to make him.

He loves Spongebob, trains and balls, but I've already done those cakes. I didn't want to do a similar one for him that I had already done for Joshua.

So, one day I asked Joshua what kind of cake he thought I should do for Jacob, and he gave it some thought. After a few minutes he said, "How about Wow Wow Wubbzy!" My brain did a very quick scan of Wubbzy's shape to determine if I could even make that, and since he is primarily a rectangle, I said "Yes! What a brilliant idea."

When the time finally came to plan the cake, I had opted for just a 9 x 13 white sheet cake that I planned on frosting yellow, and cutting out Wubbzy's little bumps/ears or whatever they are on top of his head. Easy. Peasy.

But, unfortunately at the last minute I also decided to add hands, feet, tail and a kickity kick ball. I cut the hands, feet and trademark tail out of cardboard with the intent of frosting them later. But, the kickity kick ball was going to be a chocolate cake made from scratch, with mousse layers and a ganache frosting. Blue with light blue polka dots...just like on the cartoon.


The sheet cake and appendages came off without a hitch. I frosted them all yellow, and piped dots on and around the cake to embellish. I finally traced all the parts with a black frosting, and made eyes, nose and mouth as well. Wubbzy was complete, and ridiculously cute if I do say so myself.

The chocolate cake on the other hand....

I have no idea what went wrong. I've made cakes for years, and never have I seen such a thing. The cake would not come out of the pans at all. They crumbled and cracked and fell apart, but I was determined to salvage it. I managed to get one cake round on the cake plate, then topped it with some chocolate mousse. So far so good. Then, I carefully placed the next cake on top. Very shaky looking, but I persisted. I topped it off with more mousse and walked away to rinse the dishes. When I returned, half the ball had fallen off. The cake cracked right along the side and fell. I glued the crap out of that thing with frosting and mousse and mangled it back to a semi-circular looking object. I was not about to be outsmarted by some flour and eggs, by god!

Then, my brilliant ganache idea was up next to bat. I poured it on top of the ballish shaped object, and watched as it ran all over my freaking table, and over the already perfectly frosted yellow hands of the Wubster.

I was not daunted by this however. Apparently I was in a good mood that day, because otherwise I normally would've tossed the whole entire chocolate mess into the garbage...or more than likely eaten the crap out of it from stress, but apparently this candida diet has also helped me cope with these type of situations. Who knew.


After cleaning up most of the spillage of the ganache, I carefully piped cute little light blue circles of buttercream all over the ball...only to watch them SLIDE RIGHT OFF!

I grabbed those frickin' frosting balls and walloped them back in the ganache bowl. I scraped off all the ganache I could without compromising even more of the cake/mousse fiasco, and mixed up a bit of dark blue buttercream. I swirled the buttercream in with the other remnants of blue ganache and chocolate mousse, creating, in my own mind, a nice tie dyed look to this lovely kickity kick ball. Not exactly the same as the show, but those are the breaks.

I carefully piped MORE light blue buttercream circles. Some of the ones on the edge started to slide off again, but I didn't care. I was SO done with that ball.


I cleaned up the ganache spillage off of everything I could and managed to mess up more of the yellow Wubbzyness, re-piped some of that, and called it done. Took my photos and wondered if I should Photoshop them before putting them on here.


In an effort of honesty and imperfection, I will post the actual photos. I'm so not an expert, but I pretend like I am in my own head, so this just kills me that the ball didn't turn out. I will do some research to see what happened. I don't think I left out an ingredient, but that's not an impossibility.

Most importantly, Jacob had a great time and loved his cake, and of course had no clue as to what mommy went through to get it just right for him. Everyone ate both cakes, and they tasted great, despite the crumbliness of the chocolate one. The favorite, oddly enough, was the chocolate mousse cake.

But from now on when I watch Wow Wow Wubbzy with my son, I will always, always hold a grudge for that Kickity Kick ball...

Before shot of the Wow Wow Wubbzy cake.

Wubbzy and Kickity, barely hanging on.

Closeup of kickity, giving into the pressure.

Jacob had a great day anyway! He loved his new light-up dino shirt, too.

Thank you lake for fixing my son.

Awhile back I posted about my son Jacob not taking baths anymore. I received several great suggestions, but unfortunately none of them worked. Showers...outdoor baths....new toys. But, he was still terrified of the bath.

Then, we went to the lake for vacation. He didn't even get in the lake, but for some reason, now that we're back home, he wants to take baths all the time. He took two yesterday.

I have no idea what the heck happened, but thank the lord. Kids are weird.

Technological Solitude

While preparing to head to the lake last week for vacation, I looked forward to some down time. I expected the sun. I expected some long, country walks. I expected some quality family moments.

What I hadn't expected was my withdrawal from technology.

As a business owner, I am ALWAYS "plugged in." Email. Phone. Internet. Searching. Replying. Inquiring....working.

As a mom, I use technology frequently as a way of finding pertinent information for the crisis of the day (fevers, rashes, how rainbows get their colors) as well as just a way of coping with the day to day stresses of being a stay at home mom, by reading mommy blogs or just chatting with compassionate friends who are in the same boat.

After a few brief moments of solitude at the lake, I checked my beloved iPhone, out of habit.

What??? No service!? But it's my iPhone...a gift from the techno gods, how could it let me down?

I walked around, arm outstretched for hours, just hoping for a half of a bar...let alone all 5. I went to each side of the cottage and all the way out to the end of the longest pier (which fortunately happened to be ours) and still, only a fraction of a bar, and no Internet access. Where we were, was apparently far from an ATT tower, hence my lack of connection.

I finally discovered a spot by a window, that if I held my tongue out just so, and didn't breathe, I could get just enough bars, and my Edge connection for Internet access and email connection. Ahh, sweet relief.

Most people might think I'm a bit crazy for actually wanting to have contact to the outside world while on vacation, but I really love technology. I also love working on the business, so for me, working on vacation isn't really work.

Now, running after an insane 3 year old all day who can't sit still for two seconds, and absolutely without a doubt must always go in the opposite direction as you want him to and do what you told him NOT to do at least 5 more times...or trying to coax the 5 year old to come out of the cottage long enough to give his alabaster skin a rosy glow.....now that is work.

Bathroom emergency. Backup requested.

Dear Internet, I need your help.

My almost 3 year old son Jacob has developed an acute fear of the bathtub. It may or may not have something to do with with potty training, and/or a battery operated fish.

Several months ago, great progress was being made on potty training him. We let him run around the house in his birthday suit, and he told us when he had to go. He even told us sometimes when he had a diaper on, or would take off his diaper and pants and head to the potty.

I thought a miracle was occurring, because his older brother was almost 4 before he was fully potty trained. Then, for some odd reason, out of nowhere, when we would put him in the bath he would freak out, grab his johnson and get out of the tub to sit on the potty. I thought at first he just had to go really bad, but now every time we take off his diaper he freaks out and grabs the goods.

I have even gone so far as to get in the tub with him, but this does nothing but get me soaked while he screams at the top of his lungs. He went almost 2 weeks without a real bath. We just washed him down with a rag. And his hair...forget about it. When I wash his hair, I wait for the pounding of the CPS to come knocking on our door. It's that bad.

A probable cause is that some soap got in some nooks that didn't feel so good, or maybe that my older son terrorized him with the battery operated fish. But, shouldn't those memories be gone by now? We've eliminated the fish, and any "soap in unwanted nook" sting should be gone by now too.

So, what do I do? I've tried being funny. I've tried easing him into it by giving him a bath in the sink. I've tried bribes and new toys and soothing words, but none of it is working.

I assume he will eventually grow out of this, but until then, how do I explain the smell?

Broccoli is green

Joshua: Mommy, I want some food.

Mommy: What kind of food?

Joshua heads out to the freezer in the garage where nothing but organic bread, organic veggies, homemade soups and of course, ice cream reside. It doesn't take much to figure out which one he's heading for.

Mommy: Joshua, you can't have Popsicles. Or ice cream.

Joshua: But, mommy, I just want some food.

Mommy: But, Joshua, there's nothing out here that you want, trust me. And no Popsicles.

Joshua: But I want some new food. Not Popsicles.

Joshua looks in the freezer: "Broccoli"

Mommy: Broccoli?

Joshua: Yeah. Broccoli. I want some broccoli.

Mommy: You do know that's green, right? It's a vegetable. It's not broccoli ice cream.

Joshua: I know. I want broccoli.

After picking myself off the floor from fainting...I go make some broccoli. My lobotomy theory has been proven.

Losing it.

Not sure if anyone cares, or if anyone can relate, but I am seriously, seriously, losing my freaking mind.

I don't know what happened between last week and today, but I'm leaning towards the possibility that my kids also got a lobotomy while we were in the hospital for their strep throat. I can't prove it, but that's the only logical option.

Since they started feeling better they have been nothing but ungrateful devil children put here on earth to see to it that I eat chocolate and shoot myself. In that order, of course. What would be the point of shooting yourself and then eating chocolate? That's just stupid.

To describe their behavior would take much more effort than I am willing to put into it this morning, but let's just say I am being pulled in twelve different directions by two tiny little humans who consistently piss each other off in ways that no one understands. Screaming and crying and hitting and whining. All, not on my list of fun times.

"I want food!" "I want juice!" "Spongebob!!!" "I want my computer!" I want more food!" "Apples!" "Crackers!" "Juice!!!!" "Jacob, stop hitting me!" "Jossa (jacob's word for joshua) AHHHEHHHEHEHEH!!!!" "

And now that summer is here, screaming at them is a bit more challenging. I'll say something like "What is your problem!? Why are you being such a pain?" only to look out the window and see my neighbor standing outside...through the open, screen window. Hmmm, can't even imagine what's going on in her mind. Perhaps, "Who to call? who to call? Child protective services or 911?" So, now I have to be more aware of the window situation, and before I let out a blood curdling screech, I quickly glance up at the windows. That determines my noise level.At least in the winter there's a slight barrier of glass to muffle the screeches.

Not that my kids even hear me. I say the same thing ten times in a row. "Joshua, don't swing that around in the house, you'll hit the dog or your brother." While Joshua is still swinging said object, "Joshua....I just said not to swing that." Swinging..."Joshua!!! What did I just say?!" Still swinging damn thing...."Joshua, I'm going to count to 5 (swinging) if you don't stop swinging that thing (swinging) by the time I get to 5, I'm going to (swinging) send you upstairs for the rest of your life." 1....2......Swinging, swinging, swinging, now I've lost it. I don't even get to 5. "Give me that thing right now," I say in my deepest, most evil voice and yank it out of his hands. Then let the waterworks begin. Hurray! More. Freaking. Crying.

My house looks like a bad Roseanne episode (wow that shows how out of date my TV references are), with dishes sprawled about, usually with the dog licking one clean, and toys that I didn't even know we had have some how found their way onto every square inch of my floor. The sofa cushions have become the best toys in the world, but only if they are stacked on top of each other to jump onto, or leap from. And then of course, all the sofa pillows, from both sofas, need to be placed strategically throughout the house, because if you don't walk on them, your feet will catch on fire.

I send them outside so I can clean up inside, and they inevitably end up whacking each other with a golf club or baseball bat, or a stick. One or the other comes crying inside to me within minutes of being outside. Why is this happening?!

I'm an only child, so having a brother/sister relationship is over my head. Maybe this is normal, but dear god. I should have been given more patience with each kid, not less.

The only solace I take in all of this is that my annoying neighbors who, on the north side of us have barking dogs and screaming kids, and on the south side of us smoke so much that I'm developing second hand lung cancer through my own house, are getting paid back with my crazy, out of control children.

When you find me dead in my house after shooting myself...rest assured, there will be chocolate smudges all over my face....

And now, the aftermath

As a stay at home business owner mommy, my work is never, ever, ever done. This weekend was full of crying and messes to clean, and hospitals, and medicine delivery attempts (yes I said attempts....those $%#@# kids are so difficult! it's bubble gum flavored for crying out loud!! What's the problem?)

And of course a tiny little holiday known as Father's Day, that we all attempted to enjoy the best we could. The kids were astonishingly back to normal. (and yes, there was an occasion that both Mark and I dared to wish that they were still sick. we are going to hell in about 5 minutes.) A crazy day filled with joy, laughter and screaming. Ah, normalcy, how I've missed ye.

Which brings me back to reality. I have work to get back to, now that the dust has settled. Things I put off over the weekend in order to deal with my sickies, are now needing prompt attention.

The boys however, have other ideas. They want ice cream, tea and mommy's undivided attention still. And why not? I gave them everything they wanted for 3 days, why should it end. I'm sure any minute now one of them will say "It's not fair!" But hey, life's not fair, and if life was fair, I'd be 5'10", a size 2, and sipping some giant cocktail with an umbrella on a beach somewhere, so get over it.

Now, back to my regular schedule, with the addition of kids hanging from each limb. Wish me luck...

Update do dah

Whew. Another not so boring weekend around here, unfortunately.

The breathing difficulties ala Joshua ended up being Strep Throat. We did not even catch it until he tried to finally eat, and screamed like he had just swallowed razor blades, which I'm sure is what it felt like.

I looked in his throat, and sure enough, those pesky white spots. Unfortunately this did not get noticed until after doctor's office hours-of course-and I thought I'd wait it out until Monday, only applying some natural aids to comfort him.

This worked for the most part, except he was still not eating. He said, "I'm too sick to eat Mommy. I have bumps in my throat, see...." while sticking his tongue out. He said, "My heart is beeping too fast because I exercised and now my heart is too big." And, "I can't eat until I see the doctors." I giggled at his observations, but still worried a bit.

Then, Saturday morning came with the very hot to the touch Jacob, crying and moaning. I knew what I would find in his throat, but looked anyway only to find that, yes indeedy, he also had Strep.

I wavered about what to do for hours. We ultimately decided to take both to the hospital, and bypassed the stinky after hours clinic. I just couldn't wait until Monday for our doctor.

At the hospital, Joshua was hilarious. He proclaimed how comfy the bed was and thought we should take it to his doctor's office, and began his list of foods he wanted to eat once he was all better. Chips.....Goldfish Crackers.....and Muffins! Muffins with yellow frosting from the food store to be exact. Then, when daddy asked him to bring my purse to me, he said, "But I'm too sick, see...." While sticking his tongue out for proof. He also rubbed Jacob on the head to make him feel better, and picked out a nice stuffed puppy from the nurse's puppy drawer for him.

After assessing the damage, and rambling about third world countries and using big words I'm not even sure he understood, our doctor sent us home with the requisite antibiotic scrip, and we settled in at last in our comfy house. Joshua still wouldn't eat, and kept reminding us of the bumps. "I'm too sick to eat" while he's running around the house tormenting the dog.

I started to worry, as this was the third day with no food for him and he was starting to look a little Billy Bob Thorntonish. Finally, after many trials and requests, he settled on Pokemon macaroni and cheese. The first bite scared him, and I made him chew it like he was 90 years old "Until it's soft and smooth, gramps!"

He cleaned up two whole bowls of it and I did the hallelujah dance of joy. If you know me, macaroni isn't usually something to cheer about around here, but today it was heavenly.

Jacob is still struggling through this. Poor guy is sleeping it off in a big way. I hope by tomorrow their antibiotics will have kicked in and done their job. But, we will be closely following this up with some good quality PRObiotics to get those good germies back where they belong. yin and yang.

The great, great news about all of this, is that the breathing treatments were unnecessary, and that means Joshua may have outgrown his bronchitis/allergy induced asthma/whatever the heck the doctors pull out of their hat syndrome.

It's kind of strange how their illnesses played out so differently. Joshua's developed slowly, culminating with the painful spots on Friday, while Jacob's arose suddenly, on Saturday, which allowed us to treat them at the same exact time. This saved time at the doctor office, and will make it much easier on my ten day antibiotic memory assignment. Things have an interesting way of working out sometimes.

Thank you, Goblins!

My 5 year old son, Joshua loves LOVES anything related to computers. At first I took pride in this fact, dreaming of the day he becomes the next Bill Gates. He has been a natural computer whiz since he was 3, maybe even earlier.

He now installs things on his computer and knows how to find what he installed, and then start playing it... sometimes to the chagrin of his parents. He knows the words download, install, delete, mouse, cursor, dot com and Internet.

It really wasn't until he started waking up talking about certain games, or telling me about dreams that had specific computer game references in them that I realized he was probably on the computer too much.

It started out, simply enough, as a way to have him learn how to use the mouse, and to learn from Teacher Dora, his colors and ABCs in a way that I couldn't teach him. It morphed into hand held video games when he was hospitalized for a breathing problem, and daddy wanted him to feel better. It most definitely did the trick, and that video game came in handy for many doctor appointments, and one more hospital stay. Well worth the expense.

However, as many parents do, we found ourselves in this never ending pattern of letting him play the video game all the time. At first it was the computer he was addicted to, now it has become this tiny little magical device known as Nintendo DS lite. Most days I would let him play for more hours than he didn't play it. I felt guilty for sure, but when I took it away he freaked out and cried and screamed and lost his mind. I knew deep down that was a sure sign of addiction...one that we needed to break pronto, but I had my own issues to deal with as well as a business that won't run itself, and needed the very elusive down time that that video game gave me. I succumbed to the "computer as babysitter" method of parenting.

After a few months of this, I noticed my son was losing his personality and just wasn't fun to talk to any more. Every question to him followed with an answer that didn't match. I would ask him how his day was at school and he would say, "And then these big guys would come and I would get them!" Stunned, I nodded my head and said something like "That's nice Joshua, now mommy needs to go put herself in time out for being a horrible parent."

So, this is when I invented the Goblins. The Goblins are these evil creatures that live in the ground and take little kids' video games. When he wasn't looking my husband or I would hide the video game, and when Joshua would inevitably start crying about where his video game was, we told him the Goblins must have gotten it. At first this didn't go over very well. He cried and wanted it back and stomped around, but after this happening a few weeks in a row (magically the goblins return his video game to some random spot in the house on Saturdays or Sundays) he started to play along with it.

Now, when he gets his video game back on weekends, he says "Mommy. I am going to sleep with my video game so those Goblins can't take it away." And, as any wonderful mom would do, I say, "That sounds like a fantastic idea Joshua, you are very smart!" Of course in a few hours one of us finds the video game lying somewhere out of sight from Joshua, and Viola! it comes up missing again. Darn Goblins.

So Saturday came and daddy was out of town and it was crazy yucky outside, so I decided the Goblins should make their return. We were upstairs and I said, "Did you hear that? I think I might have heard the Goblins downstairs, Joshua." He ran to the top of the stairs and listened and said, "I heard them again, Mommy! The Goblins are here!" And, he ran downstairs and saw his video game on the kitchen counter and yelled, "THANK YOU GOBLINS!!!"

These Goblins are becoming as sacred as Santa around here, and I'm thankful for it.

Save time with these adorable toothbrushes

I stuggle pretty much daily with getting the kids to brush their teeth. They won't do it themselves, nor will they let me without a huge fight, usually ending up with toothpaste in someone's eyes, ususally mine.

So, when I was at the store the other day I saw these adorable tooth brushes that play music while you brush, I thought I'd give them a try.

The best part of all was that they had a Mario Bros. one, and Joshua is 100% addicted to his Super Mario Nintendo Ds game. We've had to banish it to just a few hours on weekends, or else he'd be propping his eyes open with toothpicks to play it all day, every day.

And, they had a Thomas the Train one too, so I was able to kill two crazy birds with two, heavily licensed, toothbrushes.

The music isn't annoying actually, like you probably would think it is. In fact, when I push the button for the Thomas one, Jacob comes running as fast as he can. Then, he tells me to get Joshua's too and runs to give him his Mario one.

They are magically brushing their own teeth without me even asking.

Plus, you can turn the music off if you don't want it on the full two minutes it usually plays.

These are made by World Trend, and I got them at WalMart. I'm sure they are available everywhere where toothbrushes are sold...happy brushing!

Mommy, watch me! Part II

Lord help me. I think Joshua is going through some kind of regressive growth stage. I noticed a few weeks ago that he was starting to ask me to watch him all the time. That's not a problem really, except that what he wanted me to watch were things like his foot being on the wall on this spot, and then hey watch, my foot is now on this other spot. Or him walking backwards. Or moving his finger in a circle in the air...What do you say to that?

I just nod my head and say "yeah, Joshua, that's great." I'm probably setting him up for huge failure when he grows up when he'll find out people don't really get that excited about normal body movements.


Then a few days ago he was mad that I wouldn't let him have ice cream for lunch. After ten minutes of a scream fest, he decided, okay, I'll have the chicken and mashed potatoes. However, he put my hand on the fork, and pointed to his mouth. He wanted me to feed him! Like.A.Baby.


That same day, Jacob was playing on the piano. It sounded a lot less like a car accident than usual, so I told him he was doing a good job. Joshua meanwhile, who was sitting on the potty to pee, says, "What about me Mommy? What about me?" Um...good peeing Joshua?


What's this about? How do I deal with this? Mark says it's a phase and that Joshua just wants attention. But what I don't understand is that I yell at Jacob pretty much all day, so why would Joshua think that's better than the way I treat him, which is usually quite the opposite of screaming, with giant hugs and kisses and lots of praise for bodily movements.

I am seriously confused....someone hold me.

A Mother's Day

I sit down to type this post on Mother's Day. For those of you with children, I hope you are enjoying the day in any way you want.

I have heard women say that on Mother's Day they like to get away from their kids. A friend of mine once said, "It's MY day. Why would I want to be home?"

That really stung me, and I actually changed my view of that person after she said that. I feel like Mother's Day is a day to be with the ones who made you a mother. A day to be appreciated and to appreciate. I am so thankful that I have the opportunity to be the mother of two beautiful children, that to think of being away from them today is the last thing I would do.

In my house the rules change a bit on Mother's Day. I don't have to clean or change diapers, and my husband usually cooks and has some kind special treat in store for me.

That hasn't always been the case, however. On my very first Mother's Day ever, things went horribly wrong. I had Joshua in March, after a very stressful pregnancy that resulted in an emergency c-section 5 weeks too early. Mother's Day was just a few short months later and the trauma that I endured, not to mention the difficulty in getting him to latch on, and the insecurity of caring for a tiny 5 pound baby were fresh in my mind. So, I kind of looked forward to a good day of honoring me and all that I went through and a moment to bond over this beloved new being in our home.

First thing in the morning my husband handed me a card. I read the card, and it was "from" Joshua. It said things like "thanks for all the things you've done" and "I'll always remember" and other wording that sounded more from a college student than an 8 week old baby. Probably should not bother me, right? Then, by about 3:00 that afternoon, there was nothing else. No flowers, no nothing. (and please don't get me wrong...it didn't need to be material items, he could've just told me to do nothing all day, or just offered to make me tea...any gesture like that is worth more than anything money can buy)

I know some of you are saying, "What's the big deal? My husband didn't even get me a card." But Mark has set the bar pretty high for himself. This is the guy who on my first birthday with him, took me to a park, dug holes in the ground to place candles in, and had a cake, champagne and flowers all in a big picnic basket. It was lovely, and he continued to out do himself each birthday, valentine's day and Christmas thereafter. So, on my first mother's day ever, it kind of seemed like a no brainer.

My mom and dad were coming over for dinner, but before they got there, we had a huge argument over this, and the card, resulting in the card being destroyed by my husband. (not our finest day, let me tell ya!) Of course then, I immediately started crying because even though that card did not fit the occasion, it was still the very first card I had ever gotten as a mother. (must have been the hormones)

He ran out and got me a new, more fitting card with Snoopy on the front, just in the nick of time for my parents to arrive. We made it through dinner, and the next following 5 years with only minor cuts and bruises.

I don't think I overreacted. I think Mother's work damn hard, with little to no acknowledgement sometimes, and if there's just one day out the whole year that we can have someone bow down to us and make us feel like queens, then I am going to take it. Mother's technically should get a whole month in my opinion.

Of course I will need to make Father's Day special for him too, he did have a little something to do with the whole baby making process after all.

But that's why Mother's Day comes first in the year, so you can do for them, how they do for you. If he forgets Mother's Day, you forget Father's Day, tit for tat.

Although, our first Father's Day, I actually did the opposite of what he did, and made a stepping stone with Joshua's foot and hand prints. I could have done what he did back to me out of spite, but it was more important to give him the kind of Father's Day I felt he deserved.

A story to remember, but hopefully one not to be repeated. So, enjoy your Mother's Day in any way you can, and make sure you take some time to remember what being a mother means.

Busy weekend

I have more pretzels to make today, so I won't be adding any major posts. Sorry to disappoint.

However, I have created a very cute hang tag for a baby pretzel that I'm dying to share. I will hopefully get time to take the picture and get it up online later.

Saturday we start Joshua in soccer, then I have a moms meeting, then to the shop for some cleaning for the Board of Health inspection (yippee!) and then to the Big Eyed Fish for dinner to celebrate Mother's Day with my mommy.

Apparently this place is awesome. They have a clown who walks around doing tricks and making balloon animals. It's sure to scare the crap out of Jacob, landing us back in our car for the long, whiny road home before we even order. Should be fun!

Mother's day is Sunday, and I seriously plan to do zilch. Tea. Chocolate. Book. My idea of a good time.

I am going to post about my very first mother's day though...check back cuz you will feel so thankful you weren't me on that day....my husband should hide about now.

Is there a censor on my ass?

It's no wonder my adrenals have taken a crap. I just realized today that every single time my butt hits a flat surface, one child or both come running to me like a big flashing light just went off warning them that mommy isn't busy doing something for them.


Seriously. I walk aimlessly around the house putting away things that don't belong on the floor, looking at my growing behind in the mirror, getting juice or crackers for the kids, opening the frig and wishing candy grew in the ground so it could count as a vegetable...for hours.


But, as soon as I think of sitting down to work on something of great importance such as returning emails, searching distributors, counting how many posts about amy winehouse are on perez...ya know, essential tasks to life, I swear something happens.


I start to tap on my keyboard and instantly the little one is yanking on my shirt and saying something like help, spongebob, or maybe food, and try as I might to ignore him and keep typing, it's very difficult to type one handed, and the left arm of my shirts are three times too big now from all the pulling.


I need a break. I'm a stay at home mom raising two beautiful boys, and a wonderful business, but somedays, I feel like a better alternative is to sign up for front line duty in the war...I imagine I'd have more down time and far less stress.


Since I'm too old for the military, I better start searching for more plausible options. Like finally heading to that convent I've always dreamed of, or maybe being an intern for the president. I could definitely get some good naps in then...

The Butterfly Whisperer

I drove for Joshua's preschool field trip the other day. We went to the Botanical Gardens to see their butterfly exhibit. I didn't quite know what to expect from Joshua, he's not really big into bugs.

However, as soon as he saw one land on a flower, he instinctively put his finger gently under it's legs and the little guy hopped right on to his finger.

It kept coming back to him and it would stay there for a long time. He really seemed to enjoy it, so I have deemed him the Butterfly Whisperer.


He's looking forward to going back...who knows, maybe I can get a show on cable about a 5 year old butterfly prodigy. Any takers?

The many faces of crack

These photos are about a year old, but they are priceless and still relevant, so I just had to share.
I gave Jacob the last drippings of my white mocha one day, and, well, see for yourself...

A Starbucks fan for life. I wonder what they put in those things, anyway? Hmmm.

Just put your coat on!

Okay. Some background....I have always done everything for my sons. I never thought twice about it, just did it. I dressed them. I brushed their teeth. I put their coats and gloves on. I put Joshua's backpack on. Underwear, socks, shoes...yes, it's my fault, I did it all.

I thought it was awesome, because I was not one of those parents who were constantly screaming at their kids to "Put your coat on!" "Get your shoes, now!" I didn't have to yell because I did it for them.

Except I forgot one thing...they are supposed to learn that at some point they have to do it themselves. On Tuesday, Joshua's preschool teacher said to me in the softest, most condescending way, "We are working with Joshua on how to put his coat on."

My first thought was, "Thanks, that saves me some time." Then, it dawned on me, that what she really meant was "You stupid parent. This is something we shouldn't have to worry about. You are a horrible mom for coddling your child like this, and now we actually have to teach him something."

So, this morning I dutifully tell my child to put his coat on now, damnit! Why can't you put your coat on? You're 5 now, your teacher thinks you should be able to do this already. Crocodile tears streaming down his face. I feel awesome.

Meanwhile, Jacob is crying because the dog is within inches of his cereal and it's devastating for him, don't I understand and why can't I move right now to stop this vile creature from drooling on his cereal?!

Then, I put on Jacob's socks (sorry, it's a habit I can't break all at once apparently) and then horror of all horrors I put his shoes on too. but, this is not a good answer for him. he wants to throw them across the room and cry some more about how horrible I am for putting shoes on him and can't i see that he's busy eating cereal with dog drool in it, and that shoes are not the priority right now woman!

So, I turn my attention to the boy with crocodile tears that are pooling around his feet at this point. Face Red, Eyes Bloodshot. I am on top of the world! Damn preschool teachers and their helpful suggestions....now look at what you made me do. my kid is crying, and I feel like a horrible mom for trying to get him to put his own coat on. He's only 5, it's not like he'll be in high school and need help with his outerwear, or underwear for that matter. What's the big deal?

He puts his coat on, sort of. Then, I sort of help a little tiny bit, then I teach him how to zip, and then he starts crying again because that's just too much information and the teacher only said to know how to put my coat on mom, so why are you filling my brain with all this useless information before you're told to, you crazy crazy over achiever you!

Okay. Coat on. Now I can move my attention to Jacob who does at least still have his socks on, but I can't find his shoes that he threw across the room, so I begin looking for them only to remember that I had actually picked them up and put them on the table already thinking that would be a good idea, so I could find them easier.

This time he's ready for his shoes, and things go smoothly, until I mention that I'm going grocery shopping and Joshua decides that he wants to go too. But he wants to go now, not after school, no school today mom, i don't want to go to schoooooolll!!!

At this point I'm threatening home school to him like he should wish he came out of someone else's womb because I am so over this fighting and I just want these kids to want to do what I say and not argue ever because don't they know that it's hard being a mom and I just want them to be happy and not cry all the time. I should be crying all the time, not them! That's the rules, right?

I pick Joshua up from school in one hour, and I am breathlessly waiting for what we'll all be crying about then. Ahhh, parenting. Who wouldn't want to do this all day?

I wouldn't trade it for all the peanut butter and chocolate in the world.