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Time is almost up! If you want a chance to win some awesome prizes ... you have to head over to Iowa Geek's place and leave her a comment on her December Scrap-Bribing Post.
If you promise to tell her An Iowa Mom sent you ... I'll make it really easy for you to enter ... just click here!
than an afternoon movie with your siblings. Pull out a few comfy quilts and cuddle up and just enjoy the time together.
Of course, that's not nearly as good as an afternoon movie where three of the children are quiet, entertained and out of my hair for a couple hours.
I better be careful ... I might start getting the reputation of a mother who doesn't want to be around her children.
Ahem ... but if the shoe fits.
<Okay, now it's your job to tell me how completely normal I am and I deserve some time to myself every once it a while.>
Okay ... so maybe most of my lurkers want to remain lurking. FINE! You can keep yourselves a secret. I don't mind. <Pout>
For those of you who love me ... which, come on, who wouldn't ... I want you to run over RIGHT NOW to Iowa Geek's place and check out her December Give-A-Way. It's awesome and if you leave her a comment letting her know that I, An Iowa Mom, sent you ... she'll enter us twice.
Hello?
A GIVE A WAY.
You could win.
It's big.
It's great.
Why are you still here?
Big Daddy and I don't exchange gifts for Christmas. Never have. I have to admit, Christmas for me is every day of the year. I don't mean that in a sappy way, I mean that when I ask for something ... Big Daddy will normally get it for me, so I get nothing for Christmas. However, that leaves me at THIS year and I admit I batted my eyelashes and talked him into getting me this the other day. Thanks Iowa Geek, if it weren't for you ... I wouldn't even have known this cool little gadget existed. I love it!
Anyway, the point is, I don't get much at Christmas. The only presents I get are from my mom, and they are always great ... but this year, I want more! And YOU are the only person who can give it to me. Yes, YOU!
What is it?
All you lurkers out there, I would love for you to leave me a comment. Let me know you're here. I'm hoping to find out about a lot of awesome people and blogs that visit me daily and I don't even know who you are.
That is all I'm asking for. It's not like I'm asking you to all pool your money together and buy me new living room furniture ... though that would be great too.
If you've found yourself here, regardless of how and why, and you are reading this right now ... just leave me a comment. It's that easy.
And it would make my year.
Really.
I hope you all have a very Merry Christmas!
We were sitting at Applebee's, eating a meal we shouldn't have been, when Big Daddy said, "I really don't like it when you call me Big Daddy on your blog. Why don't you just call me fat ass, it would work just as well?"
Calling him "fat ass" in a sugar coated kind of way was never my intention. The title of Big Daddy came from Molly, actually. One afternoon the hum of the garage door going up caught Molly's attention and although she was sitting in the living room chair with a book, she was eyeing the door waiting for her Dad to come through it. Retrieving the mail from the mailbox is the highlight of Big Daddy's day, so it was a minute or two before he would enter the house.
But, when he did ... his life and name changed forever ... Molly's eyes lit up when she saw him. She through her book to the side. Jumped out of the chair. Ran towards her father with her arms spread wide open ... calling out ...
"MY DADDY! MY BIG BIG DADDY!"
She flung herself into his arms, happy as clam. I found it absolutely hilarious, therefore, naming him Big Daddy for all the rest of eternity.
It's a term of endearment. And he hates it. And that's just too damn bad!
Love you BIG DADDY!
I told Emily she'd have to wait a minute when she requested a new coloring book be fetched from the shelf in the closet. After explaining that I was in the middle of something and I could not "do everything", and that she'd have to be patient ... she came up with this:
"Well Mom, maybe if you had longer arms ... you could do everything!"
The following words just came out of Emily's mouth. I am not even remotely kidding or exaggerating.
Are you ready?
Are you sure?
Here goes:
"Mommy, can we make our Easter bags now?"
I explained that it wasn't even Christmas yet, knowing that would nip this little idea in the bud.
Ah, no! Here reply was, "But we need to be prepared!"
So, if there is one thing you all can be thankful for this holiday season ... it's that Emily is not YOUR daughter. If she were, you'd be like me ...
GOING ABSOLUTELY CRAZY ... with bags under your eyes.
It's been one of those weekends. You know, the kind of weekend where everything that could go wrong ... did. Everything you had planned on accomplishing ... you didn't. The kind of weekend where if one more kid whined or cried you felt like your eyeballs might pop out of your head, the veins in your neck may burst, and it wouldn't be an exaggeration to envision yourself falling on the floor kicking and screaming.
Yeah, it was one of THOSE weekends.
I will spare you all of the details.
However, it got me thinking ... Moms Turn hasn't had any contributors lately ... and I KNOW that I'm not the only one having "issues" with life these days. It's that time of year. You know ...
'Tis the season for your family to piss you off.
'Tis the season to feel like you're the only one who does anything.
'Tis the season to wish your children belonged to someone else.
'Tis the season to watch your bank account dwindle, as you purchase gifts for people who might not even appreciate them.
'Tis the season.
Head on over to Moms Turn and let out your frustrations ... anonymously. It feels so much better to get it all out, realize that you're not alone, and gain all the support you need to make it through.
Have a great day everyone!
Power was non-existent on Tuesday as the ice storm blew threw Iowa. Our lights flickered and threatened to go out during the morning hours, and then followed through in the afternoon ... into the evening ... into the night.
You all are going to need to brace yourselves for what I'm getting ready to say. Seriously, sit down, take a deep breath, hold on to your computer monitor ...
It was the best day I have had in years.
Without the electricity, life just automatically got so much simpler. Don't get me wrong, for the first hour I was curled up in the fetal position over in the corner, breathing into a paper sack, trying to come up with a plan to miraculously "will" my Internet to work just by the Grace of God, because you know ... one can not live without the Internet . Alright, that is an unfair statement ... let me fix it. One can not live with KNOWING they can not have the Internet. It's just a fact.
After I detoxed and came to grips that I was no longer in control ... of anything ... we started to have a good time.
We played games.
We ate cookies.
We made crafts.
We laughed.
We hugged.
We talked.
Then it turned ugly ... as we made a competitive chart to display bets on when the power would come back on. I know, teaching children to gamble this early in life is probably not a good thing ... but darn it ... it's so much fun! Everyone picked an hour and what they wanted if they won.
For example:
Drew picked the power would come on between 9pm and 10pm and if it did he would win 11 cookies.
Jake picked the power would come on between 7pm and 8pm and if it did he would get a free day off school.
Big Daddy picked the power would come on between 8pm and 9pm and if it did he would get .... never mind ... this is a family friendly blog.
I learned my kids are very competitive. Very.
For some reason it's rare to get a picture of all four kids together. And because we were having such a great day, I wanted a photo to remember it. I snapped a series of photos and was quite proud of the results ... until the next day ...
Apparently, kids look much better by candlelight too. At least in flicker of the soft glow, I don't see the Cheeto ring around little mouths. I'm so busted. I might as well fess up ... in the name of fun ... we had Cheetos for dinner. I know. I should be nominated for the "cool mom award".
If I were a photoshop pro, I could probably edit that cheesey ring around Emily's mouth right out ... but I'm not ... so my perfect photos are no longer.
I think I'll make it a tradition to shut off the power off once a month for a family day together ...
Okay ... once a year, maybe.
It wasn't long ago when I explained that Molly insisted on wearing sundresses every day in the dead of winter. Emily is the same way. An inch of ice on the ground and she is set to go in her halter top and mini skirt.
Emily has her own idea of fashion. She definitely knows what she likes. And if this is how she emerges from her bedroom now, at four years old, I shudder at the thought of when she is a "tween".
Oh dear heavens, I can't even think about it.
Ssshhhh! We aren't going to tell Big Daddy about the days that are sure to lie ahead.
No way!
Not happenin'.
I'm thinking that all future outgoing letters to Santa Claus must be screened. Why, you ask? Why would a mother feel the need to do such a thing?
Drew informed me this morning that he asked Santa for mice.
Yes, real live mice.
Lots of them.
You see, he has come to the conclusion that Rocky, our cat, would love to have mice running around our home ... so he could chase them ... and Drew could watch. Everyone would be happy.
Every.Single.One.Of.Us.
That would be a Santa letter in need of confiscation.
For sure.
If you watch the news, I am sure you've heard about the huge ice storm that is pounding the midwest. It's just started where we are and actually, it's so warm right now that the roads are just wet and it's raining ... but the temps are expected to drop, and then I'm sure it will get down right nasty.
As I sit here typing away, my lights keep flickering. Why? I don't know. All the wires in our neighborhood are buried. I'm sure there is a good explanation as to why we could lose power, and many of you are yelling into your computers saying, "Hello, AnIowaMom, are you just plain ol' stupid?" And, I suppose I could answer yes to that question. I just want you all to know ... if we do lose power and you don't hear from me, it's only because of the storm.
Don't worry ...
The kids may be out of school (and they are).
I may not have electricity.
I may not have heat.
I may not have Internet (ouch!)
But I have my beer.
I may be stupid, but I'm prepared. I'll be just fine.
I might as well keep complaining about all the things that tick me off, since I'm on quite the roll lately. 'Tis the season, eh?
After a quick jaunt to the store a few days ago, I realized I was running a tad bit later than I'd anticipated. Maybe it had something to do with the fact I had to argue with my 2 year old for 30 minutes before we could come to an agreement on what she should be wearing. So, after shopping and loading everything and everyone in the car, I glanced at the clock and noticed it was way past my lunch time. Arby's was just right down the street, so why the heck not? After all, I was very hungry.
Shut up Green3. Don't worry, I kept to the budget and didn't allow anyone else in the car to get anything ... only me. That, my friends, is a very effective way to keep costs down.
So anyway, as I make my way to the window, I hand over my cash and with a smile asked, "Can I please have a lot of Arby's sauce? Not only do I like it on my sandwich, I love it with my curly fries too!" The lovely lady behind the register returned the smile and said, "Sure, no problem".
My mouth watered all the way home, which is about 20 minutes away, so you can imagine how hungry I was after smelling the fast food I've been depriving myself for over a month now, just to save money. Geez, the things some people will do. I couldn't wait. I could actually taste it before I even opened the bag.
And when I did ... here were the contents:
I didn't even get a napkin. And WOW ... I don't know what I'll do with all that extra Arby's sauce?
Here I am at 3:45 in the morning, laying on the couch with my pillow and blanket, television on low, cat cuddled beside me as I'm begging my brain to turn off so I can get some sleep. Then I hear a story begin on the news about how the Santa Clauses around the world should be skinny ... because apparently fat Santa are sending the wrong message to children.
ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Seriously ... ARE YOU FREAKIN' JOKING?
I know I may have a lot of people disagree with me, but I am getting so tired of people trying to change our culture and traditions in the name of "political correctness". Someone please tell me that they really think a child is going to see Santa Claus and think it's okay to be fat? And if they do ... why they feel it's not up to the parent to teach them otherwise?
When a child hops up onto Santa's lap and snuggles into his jelly belly, they should feel the magic that children are supposed to feel when partaking in this wonderful tradition. I know I can still vividly recall the feelings I had when I walked up to recite my list to Santa. If a child doesn't feel that magic and only thinks of how pudgy his belly is ... well, that's just plain ol' sad. They are missing out on such a magical part of childhood and the memories that are formed in the process.
I grew up with a "fat Santa" and I know it's not healthy to be overweight. I also grew up with a mother that kicked my butt outside to play rather than allowing me to vegetate in front of a television or video game. I am starting to think the parents of today are just trying to eliminate anything and everything that could cause their children to be unhealthy rather than teaching them to make the right choices.
My beliefs lie with the concept of personal responsibility. It's up to you to make good choices. As a parent, you should teach your child the same. I'm sick of people trying to take all these things away completely so they don't have to deal with it and teach their children the difference between right and wrong. My wish this year for Santa is that these people will just knock it off and stop ruining it for the rest of us.
I want to keep Santa fat.
If you do to, visit KeepSantaFat.com
Molly refuses to wear anything but dresses.
Sundresses, to be exact.
Maybe it's always sundresses because that's all she has in her closet. When I think of winter clothes, I think of sweats and sweatshirts. The comfy clothes. Apparently Molly thinks of dresses. Never mind the 18 pair of pants in her dresser drawer.
Flash back a couple of days. A winter storm is emerging (or so they say) and I feel the need to get to Wally World to stock up on the necessities that one MUST have when snow and ice is heading their way. I would normally go to SuperTarget, because everyone knows how I feel about Walmart, but Target didn't have the main "necessity".
My beer.
Not just any beer. Miller High Life Lite. I know, you are all thinking I obviously belong in Walmart, judging from my beer of choice. And maybe that's true. But that is beside the point.
Anyway, if there is one thing I've learned from reading mom blogs, it's that life can get really bad if you're stranded in your house, with a foot of snow outside, canceled school ... and no alcohol on hand. See, I pay attention. And I informed Molly that we must get to the store, no if-and-or-buts.
But there was a but. She wanted to wear what she had on ... not what I had fetched for her. Mind you, it was 21 degrees outside, a winter storm on the way and I may have DHS called on me for allowing my 2 year old to wear a sundress to Walmart so I could get my beer.
Reasoning with a two year old is a waste of time. You'd think I'd know that by now. After about 15 minutes of explaining that it's just too cold for that dress ... we compromised.
You know she was the best dressed child in Wally World, right?
Hey, shut up ... at least she matched.
Well, it's that time of year. The time to feel warm and fuzzy and grateful for all we have. During the holiday season, I love to do special things with my children. It's the only time of year I feel this way ... any other time I don't want them anywhere near me.
Oh jeez! Stop gasping. I'm just kidding. Kind of.
So this year, we made a calendar and listed many fun things to do each day, counting down the days until Christmas. Now that our calendar is made, I thought I'd share it with all of you, as you may want to actually get off your computer, stop reading blogs and do something with your children too. Yeah, I'm not going to do that either. But I will find some extra time each day to do the following. Shoot, it's only once a year ... I suppose we owe them that, right?
Enjoy! Have a great time making wonderful memories with your little ones. These are the times they'll remember with a smile. I hope.
19 days until Christmas - Write a letter to Santa
18 days until Christmas - Take a family photo in front of your Christmas tree.
17 days until Christmas - At dinner time, eat dessert first and then your main course.
16 days until Christmas - Create your own Christmas drawing and display it for everyone to see.
15 days until Christmas - Write a holiday greeting and send it to someone in the military.
14 days until Christmas - Make a paper chain counting down the days until Christmas and hang in in your bedroom.
13 days until Christmas - Send a small, secret gift to someone you know who needs a smile.
12 days until Christmas - Make pancakes for dinner and display and decorate them in the shapes of snowmen.
11 days until Christmas - Make a gift for your teacher (and classmates, if you wish).
10 days until Christmas - Purchase a toy and donate it to a child in need.
9 days until Christmas - Make and send a handmade Christmas greeting for your Grandparents.
8 days until Christmas - Decorate a door or window in your home with handmade paper snowflakes.
7 days until Christmas - Make an ornament and personally deliver it to a neighbor.
6 days until Christmas - Write a Christmas story and have everyone in the family contribute a paragraph.
5 days until Christmas - Make and bring cookies to 3 friends/neighbors.
4 days until Christmas - Cuddle up by a fire and read your favorite Christmas book.
3 days until Christmas - Pile up in the car and venture out into town to look at all the Christmas lights.
2 days until Christmas - Sing Christmas carols together.
1 day until Christmas - At dinner go around the table and take turns telling what you love about each person.
MERRY CHRISTMAS!
Late last week I had the opportunity to go shopping alone. There were several places on my list and it was like my own personal Amazing Race to see if I could make it to each and every one of them before I was supposed to be back to pick up the girls. You all should know by now that I viewed this as a challenge, and how I love challenges.
As I drove along, I noticed a guy giving me a strange look as he passed on the highway. What was up with him? I checked the rear view mirror fully expecting an enormous booger to be hanging from my nose, which would be the only explanation for the stare bestowed upon me as his brand new Suburban whizzed past my "paid for" one. (Yes, you read that right, as of last week, our car is paid off, whooo hooo.) There was nothing. My nose was clear. Slightly irritated with the dork, I just carried on.
Pulling up to the stoplight in front of the mall, another funny look came from a gal waiting to proceed in the lane beside mine. "College kids", I thought ... "She probably can't believe I'd ever dream of wearing my hair in this so out of date style."
Whatever.
The light turned green and as I glanced to the left and right to make sure there was no oncoming traffic ignoring their red light, I saw this girl laughing. Laughing right at me.
Then I realized.
I was singing.
Not only singing ... I was jammin'. Belting out the tunes. And my window was cracked. And the disk was High School Musical 2. And I was alone.
For a brief moment I was horrified. Then I found myself funny too, and I busted out laughing.
Then I turned it up.
What this youngster doesn't know is that I have four kids. All four of them absolutely love High School Musical so the CD is frequently in the disk player for them to enjoy as we travel from place to place.
The other thing she doesn't know is that when the kiddos are in the car, I am forbidden to sing. I know. The nerve. They tell me I'm a bad singer. Like they know what they're talking about. They're kids for crying out loud.
And then Big Daddy gently broke the news to me. The four children I gave life to, were right. I could not hold a tune and I absolutely ruined the songs when I sang them.
So there ya go. I was alone. The driver's seat was the only one occupied. The radio was in my control. While I didn't realize I left the High School Musical disk in, because us moms do that constantly, I obviously didn't care. (How many times have you been driving down the street and realize you're listened to kid tunes ... and you're singing along? HA!)
At that point, I subconsciously believe I was just happy to be singing along. No one to criticize me. No one to yell for me to stop. It was just me and my radio.
Never mind the fact that the only thing more annoying in this world than my singing voice, is the very existence of Rosie O'Donnell.
Yes, it's that bad.
College football is like air to Big Daddy during the fall and winter months and if there is one thing all the children have learned over the years, it's to accept this fact. Big Daddy will hoot and holler all day long on Saturday and sometimes it's directed at the TV and sometimes it's directed at them ... depending on who's winning and who's losing.
This Saturday was no exception. And things weren't going Big Daddy's way. An ice storm hit Iowa and our satellite dish was iced over, causing our TV to remain blacked out with a little blue box at the bottom explaining it was "Searching For Satellite Signal". The veins in Big Daddy's head were bulging, his cheeks were bright red, and I swear I could see smoke coming out of his ears ... but it could have been those gray hairs that need to be trimmed. Sssshhh.
Jake, Drew and Emily are the experienced children and took cover in the basement, knowing not to complain that they were missing their favorite episode of The Suite Life with Zach and Cody (is that what it's called?). They were quiet and kept their distance in fear of Big Daddy. Molly though, has only endured 2 college football seasons and decided that since there were no over-sized men running around on the TV, beating the crap out of each other ... that it must be play time with Big Daddy.
Bravely and obliviously climbing up into the chair and snuggling in to the crease of his arm, she squealed, "Tickle Me Daddy, tickle me."
"Molly!" he groaned, managing to keep his voice someone pleasant for her sake, but eyed me so I knew good and well that he was not up for a round of tickle fight. "Please get up."
"Okay!" Molly exclaimed excitedly. "Git-Ti-Up Horsey, Git-Ti-Up" ... she exclaimed, jumping up and down on him. She was determined to play and this even put a smile on Big Daddy's face.
Amazing! I don't know how she does it.
