Ugh, gah, frick, ALRIGHT.

It's that time.  The time I knew would come eventually.  I'm glad it's here as much as I loathe its return.  I am officially, and publicly, recommitting myself to the gym.  I have to for lots of reasons but to be honest with you the main reason is I don't want to wear the size I'm wearing (or even the size below it) to my cousin's wedding in June.  Plus Lauren turns ONE on Wednesday and I just can't use the whole, "I just had a baby" or "I've had 3 babies in 4 years" gig anymore.  DAMN that.  Anyway, I figure if I have a tiny bit of accountability to someone - you, my blog readers, all 6 of you - then I may get my ass there even on nights after the kids have gone to bed and I'm exhausted.  Soooo, let the games begin!

Thank you, my faithful gym friend.  I could not do it without you.

   

A little Victor Borge wannabe

This was 3 years ago while visiting Nana.  What Drew lacks in piano skills she makes up for in Victor Borge-wannabe skills.  It's Friday, I have nothing else to post, and I just love love love this clip.

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Have a great weekend.

I'm gonna be one of those parents...

When I taught 5th grade, before I stayed home after having kids, I used to secretly snicker at all the LAAAAME emotional parents who dropped their new kindergartener off on that first day of school.  The cameras, the hugs, the tears.  PLEASE.  It was so annoying.

But now...

This little girl

is offically registered

for Kindergarten.

And she is going to turn me into one of those crying, picture-taking, peeking-through-the-window-one-last-time kinda moms.

Photo by Kia Gregory. 

Snicker all you want.

Hush little baby. No, for reals. HUSH.

If you know William at all, you know he'll tell you his life story the moment he meets you.  He hasn't stopped talking - like conversation talking - since he was 20 months old.  I am not bragging.  I am trying to evoke sympathy from you.  Can you imagine, a little 20 month old who speaks in sentences and wants to converse with you?  All day?  Everyday?  And now that sweet little boy is 3 years, 5 months old and he hasn't stopped since the day he started.  It's EXHAUSTING.  He's cute, he's charming, he's emotional, and he's curious.  These are the things that have kept my ears open thus far.  For people who don't know him or who haven't spent much time with him you may wonder how this really goes.  Like, how can a little person his age speak so much all day.  You're welcome to come visit ANYTIME and see for yourself.  Thankfully he doesn't require a response of affirmation for everything he says but I don't want to be rude or seem disinterested so I've paid attention for the last year and a half of talking.  I'm not sure I can do it much more, though. 

I saw this and immediately thought of William.  This is William in 35 years.  I'm not even kidding.  And his name tag will say, "Hi, my name is William.  I am here because my mom stopped listening to me when I was 3."

If you don't believe me, here is a little look in.  This was just one moment yesterday.  I happened to have the camera because I was taking a video of Lauren trying to walk.  He was by no means performing for the camera.  This is NORMAL.

 

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OMG.  See? 

I'm less smart because of reality TV

I swear to God my mind has turned to moosh in the last 6 years.  I don't blame it on my pregnancies or my kids (I hate when people do that).  I blame it 100% on reality television.  It's pointless, it's mindless, it's trashy, and it's fabulous.  I think American Idol started it all for me.  I mean, I did watch The Real World back in the early 90's ("True stor-aaaa!") but I think the first real reality show I got into was American Idol.  From there it's just gone downhill.  I don't even watch regular shows anymore.  My DVR is set with Real Housewives of whereever, Pawn Stars, American Idol, Keeping Up with the Kardashians.  I know!  You think less of me already.  And not only that, I love Fridays when my People magazine comes in the mail.  I've replaced real, quality television shows with reality tv.  I've replaced real books with practically tabloidy literature.  What has happened to me?  The only thing I feel good about with all of this is that by the time I sit to watch any of the shows I've taped or read any of my magazines that my children are in bed.  They are not witness to my trash.  I must change these habits and be a better role model.

On that note, I'm super excited that tonight begins the top 24 of American Idol!  I think the girls sing tonight.  Did I mention that I went to the finale of American Idol when Fantasia was crowned the winner?  I got two tickets to the Kodak Theatre in L.A. for the taping of the finale so Kristina Wing and I took the day off school and went.  We spent half the time on our cell phones with our classrooms so the kids could know what we were seeing.  See?  I've been a great role model for young children for years.

Oh, and Jersey Shore people in Miami?  YES.      

Not just words

I was washing my face this morning and before doing so I put my hair in a messy bun and a headband on to keep the little fly-aways off my face.  Drew was in the bathroom with me.  She usually misses this ritual of mine because I usually do it at night when she's already in bed.  I watched her watch me in amazement.  I was thinking to myself, "What is she thinking?  Why is this so interesting?"  That's when she said, "Mommy, what are you doing that for?"  I told her I wash my face everynight and did last night but this morning I thought it may help me wake up a little so I was doing it again.  She said, "Oh.  I like your hair like that."  I laughed a little, looking at my horribly messy appearance.  Then she said, "You are so pretty."  It nearly knocked me to my knees because I knew she meant it.  She was just watching me in the mirror for minutes and then said it.  She didn't want anything, she wasn't distracted at all.  This is a child who is sneaky and often unkind to her baby sister and who doesn't flinch when I yell at her.  She's stubborn and independent and has been since the day she was born.  Somedays my method of dealing with her is killing her with kindness because it's my only option.  I speak those kinds of words to her all the time but she is not free with the compliments.  I wouldn't expect her to be, she's only 5.  But it's not just that, she's just not the touchy-feely kinda gal.  She's just like her daddy and had I hooted about what an awesome thing to say, blah, blah, blah she would have just walked out.  Instead I knelt down and hugged her and told her she just said something so kind that it made my heart so happy.  She smiled and then said I got soap on her shoulder.  Then she walked out.  But she got it.  And so did I. 

A great lesson from that 5 year old girl.  If you feel it, say it.  And then walk out if you feel like it.  But say it.

Watch your tone...

I've never had to work in sales or in any type of customer service industry.  I was a lifeguard in high school as well as my first summer in college, I was a camp counselor at a ritzy camp up in the mountains (I had Peter Cetera's daughter and Kevin Costner's daughter), I was an R.A. in my dorm, I was a 5th grade teacher, and now a mom.  Actually now that I write it that way, I have always had a job where I get to tell people what to do and enforce rules.  Jesus, no wonder I'm so bossy.  Anyway, even though I've never had to deal with someone snarking at me from behind a counter, I can just imagine how that would feel.  I think I've always been exceptionally kind to customer service people knowing that on a fairly regular basis they probably encounter rude people.  Rude people like the asshole who was in front of me at the Kaiser pharmacy a few days ago.  He went on and on about a copay, their computer system messing up, his medication should  have been mailed to him but it wasn't so he had to get dressed (gasp!) and go pick it up himself.  His words were inappropriate, his tone was hateful, and his volume was much too loud.  It grabbed everyone's attention in the pharmacy.  I am glad I didn't have my kids with me but on the other hand, I kind of wish I had.  It would have provided me with the courage to step up to him and ask him to watch his language.  People who yell and are mean lose ALL credibility in situations like that.  And more importantly, they walk away while the rest of the people in the room have one collective thought - "What an asshole."

As I tell William often, think before you speak.  Use your head.  And always mind your manners.  Good lessons for a 3 year old.  And for old men at the Kaiser pharmacy, apparently. 

BADASS

I am a lover of tattoos.  I appreciate the meaning, I appreciate the artwork, I appreciate the courage of those who get them.  I've never had a desire to get one myself (I've never even had my ears pierced) but I certainly admire those who have them.  I especially think men with tattoos are attractive.  Chris has none and would never in a million years get one and I'm a bit saddened by that.  I'm not sure what I'd even want him to have.  He'd kinda look ridiculous with one anyway.  It's just not him.  He's never had a cavity or a speeding ticket even.  I don't think he's allowed by law to then have a tattoo, am I right?  

 My true dream man (aside from the one I married ) is him...

*DISCLAIMER - this post was written a month before we all found out he was a cheating asshole.

He's attractive to me in a hundred different ways but I just love the tattoos.  Is that weird?

So, back to the fact that I have never had the desire to get one myself.  I decided a long time ago that when my children entered kindergarten I wanted to get their handwriting tattooed somewhere on me.  I want to have their name, in their handwriting, someplace on me forever.  Chris thinks I'm cah-razy and thinks it's the dumbest idea ever.  I don't.  And I'm totally going to do it.  Drew is entering K in 6 months so I'm beginning to think it's time to start seeking out a place.  I emailed Nic at My Bottle's Up because I knew she'd have some great advice about how to find a good place and what to look for in a tattoo shop.  She's courageous in many ways and she wears them on her body for all to see!  I am not quite so courageous and my badass tattoos will be hidden.  These are for me, not for others.  

Here is what my badass tattoo will look like in 6 months:

Me with my virgin earlobes married to my squeaky clean husband sporting a hidden tattoo of my daughter's name in her own handwriting.  Don't ever say the Peters aren't B-A-D-A-S-S.

Crack. Oh, I mean coffee.

Am I the only one?

Photo courtesy of Lauren Calderon

It's finally ovah!

Drew was incredibly brave as we discussed her surgery in the days leading up to it, last night, and even all the way there this morning. As we sat in the back, in the pre-op room, all decked out in our blue bunny suits, the more doctors and nurses that came to ask me questions, the more nervous she became. By the time we walked into the OR she was crying and holding on to me for dear life. She fought laying on the table so the anesthesiologist let me hold her while they put her out. It was by far the worst parenting experience I've ever had. She went dead in my arms and I was forced to hand her over and walk out. I went outside and gathered myself and went back in to wait. Not more than 15 minutes went by before the Dr. came to get me. I went back and Drew was just waking. She was crying and very bothered by everything and every one. She told the nurse to "get outta here" and told the doctor to "quit looking at me". I had to apologize for her and they all said it's very common. They allowed her to lay in my lap as she woke up and she cried for about 45 minutes. After a while she was able to tolerate some ice chips and juice and they let us leave. The surgery was at 7:30am and we were home at 8:45am. She's had a really rough morning. She is still agitated and she's complaining of her ears hurting. She cries off and on, so unlike her. She's asleep in her room right now, something she wouldn't and didn't do after her surgery in December. This one seems to be taking a little more a toll.


The Dr. said both ears were full of mucus. He was able to drain them both.

And for the record, she requested that I go with her to her surgery, not daddy. Daddy has been her one and only pretty much her whole life so today, although I'm very sad for her and my heart breaks everytime she cries, I am beaming with joy.


We have a hot date at the Disney store today at 3pm and I'm betting by then she'll be just fine.

Thanks for all the well wishes and concern.  I am learning to not make mountains out of molehills but am clearly not there yet.


Below are just a couple pics. You didn't think I'd let this go by without snapping a few, did you?

We made brownies the night before so she'd have a treat when she got home from the hospital

5:30am, brave and ready to go

Texting Jennie in the waiting room

When I went outside to get it together after she was put under, this is what I saw.  It was so peaceful.

Finally back home.

BELIEVE

I believe that kids on a schedule are happier

I believe that mommies who have kids on a schedule are happier

I believe that TV is ok for kids, in moderation of course

I believe in traditions

I believe that the friendship of a good girlfriend is nourishment for the soul

I believe that preschool is essential for kids

I believe in the public school system

I believe in marriages that last forever

I believe in chocolate cake for breakfast on the morning after your birthday

I believe in intimate family time

I believe it's ok to not want to be around your own children once in a while

I believe in spanking

I believe it's important to spend time with one child at a time

I believe it's important to bake with your kids

I believe in blogging a family diary

I believe distance makes the heart grow fonder

I believe in living for yourself and your family and no one else

I believe big is beautiful, too

I believe in vaccines

I believe stay-at-home moms are no better than working moms

I believe in my husband 

What do you believe in?

photo courtesy of: Everything Fabulous

I'm sooo over it

My kids are sick.  Again.  And although it's so not about me, I'm soooo over it.  I'm tired of worrying at night.  I'm tired of keepings lists of who got what medicine when, I'm tired of the top shelf of my fridge being consumed by white and pink medicines that smell like butterscotch and cotton candy.  I'm tired of kids staying home from school (read: with me ALL the time) and I'm tired of one sick kid holding the rest of us hostage at home.  Most of all, I'm tired of my babies feeling icky. 

I'm also just a tiny bit worried that Kaiser has me red-flagged as a Munchausen by proxy mom.  You know, those creepy moms on 20/20 you see who do weird shit to their kids on hidden camera in a doctor's office or something to make their kid sick?  Yeah, one of those.  The last month or more we've been at Kaiser at least once a week, if not more often.   I was there today with my latest sicky, this time the little girl.  She was in bed for the night at 5pm yesterday and by 9pm when I peeked in on her she was burning up.  Then this morning she started swatting what looked like imaginary flies off of her ears.  If you're a mom of a little one you know that's when you say, "Oh, crap.  Not her ears."  With Drew's history of ear issues I wasn't gonna let this go the day without her being seen.  Because it's a holiday the normal Kaiser offices were closed and it was the urgent care.  Were you there?  I didn't see you but I think you were the only person NOT there.  Long story short, Lauren was seen and her right ear is quite infected.  Gah.  She was fussy all day today which is the first time ever that she's been grumpy for more than minutes at a time.  That was the biggest indication that something was wrong.  Here she is, believe it-or-not, in a somewhat grumpy state.  You can see she's still smiling.  I don't mean to brag but even when sick, my kids still are pretty damn happy.  It's almost annoying, actually.  Makes me feel like a real bitch for being not happy when I have the slightest affliction.
  

101* fever and an ear infection

I hope my friends at Kaiser are ready to see me two more times this week.  Drew has her pre-op tomorrow and then her surgery on Wednesday for tubes.  Then I hope we can bid farewell to our Kaiser family for a long, long time.  And I hope to regain some normalcy back into our lives.  The gym misses me and the park misses the kids.    

.   

Love and chocolate

I appreciate the fact that I am in love and have someone who loves me everyday but especially on this, a holiday which is forced upon us and makes us eat chocolate and crap from our kids' school holiday parties.  On this holiday I am reminded how very much I do love my husband.  Nearly 8 years of wedded bliss.  And obviously lots of chocolate later.  Happy Valentine's Day to all.

Will.I.Am.

It must totally suck to be three years old.  I mean, he wants to do so much and be so independent but he's only capable of... well, you know.  Not a whole lot.  I mean, I think he is capable of more than Drew was at this age but still.  Drew was never a complete hot mess at age three so this is kinda new for me.  William is a three year old little boy who acts like a hormonal, emotional 14 year old girl.  Chris thinks he's bipolar.  He'll go from being full of joy to a puddle of tears before you can blink twice and that's no joke.  I just try and remind Chris that he is a sweet, sensitive boy whose brain is in 4th gear while his emotional capabilities are kind of stuck in 1st gear.  Anyway, I'm just glad I'm 34 and not 3.  Being 3 just seems like it sucks. 

 34 doesn't suck, though.  The best thing about being 34 is being a mama to a mama's boy.  Just sayin'.

   

Flashback Friday

We are family that is a lover of musicals.  Until the age of 3 Drew had never even seen an animated Disney movie.  We watched Mary Poppins, The Sound of Music, and Music Man.  Those still are the kids' favorites although they've been exposed to the other stuff now.  This video was 2 years ago, just days before Drew's 3rd birthday.  We were on our way home from the mountains, a day trip to the snow.  I so clearly remember this moment.  I fell in love with her all over again.



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Amen

courtesy of Everything Fabulous

Amen.

Where did 5 years go?

Five years ago tonight I was in the hospital laboring with my first baby.  She was born at 4:00pm on February 10, 2005.  I was SHOCKED that she was a girl and I was SHOCKED that she wasn't 22 pounds.  I just knew I was carrying this enormous baby boy.  When she was born a she and at a tiny 7 pounds, 12 ounces I was stunned.  STUNNED.  Since that day she has stunned me a hundred times at least with things she knows and the things she has said.  Nothing, NOTHING stuns me more, however, than the fact that my baby girl is now five years old.

Drew blowing out her candles on her first birthday, with a little help.  I was 8 weeks pregnant with William here.

Drew, blowing the candles at her 5th birthday party.  No help needed.

Being measured on her 1st birthday

Being measured on her 5th birthday.  45.5 inches tall.

Drew and me on her 1st birthday.  She looks like Lauren in a wig!

Drew and me on her 5th birthday

Ms. Shy Thang

Ms. Thang

I can't stand it.  Happy birthday to my baby girl.

No more babies in this house

On Wednesday my first baby turns 5. When she started walking at 9 months I thought, "Welp, there is no more baby in the house, time for another!" Within a month I was pregnant with William. When William started walking at 12 months I thought, "Welp, there is no more baby in the house, time for another!" Within 8 months I was pregnant with Lauren. Now the little girl is just one big confidence boost from walking on her own and I'm terrified of being overwhelmed with the baby bug again really soon.


I need to stop thinking about the future so much and just enjoy today. There will be no more babies in this house and that's ok. Chapter 2 in our book has begun and I need to not dwell on the fact that Chapter 1 is over. Chapter 2 is gonna be just as fabulous.

Contently flawed

As the mother of two young girls, I am very conscious of the words I choose and how I speak about myself.  It's no secret to the world that I am not the size of a magazine model yet it's important for my girls to know I love myself and that daddy loves me and that my size does not define me nor does it dictate my life.  I'm as beautiful as those women.  It is my responsibility to live my life with confidence and instill in them a quiet confidence as well.  I saw this video clip and loved it.  I think it's worth the 5 minutes to watch.  As one of the clips in the video says, I am contently flawed.  I hope my girls will always feel the same about themselves as they grow up.

WWJD? Not the same as WWWD.

See this cute boy here?  He's mine.  I claim him with great pride.

Even when I pick him up from school and his teacher tells me that during the after school program he pulled down his pants and showed his bum to a few kids as they sat reading a bible story.

Anyone who wonders what he may need for his brithday I would suggest this:

Then printed on the back it should say, "He wouldn't show his friends his bum during bible time."  I'm pretty sure, anyway.

Pefect? No.

I don't try and be the perfect mom to my kids.  I'm unlike every one of my mom friends in that I DO NOT feel badly when they cry in their cribs as babies (assuming I know they are fed, warm, dry, etc.).  I nurture and care for in a very deep way but I also expect a lot from my kids, even at a young age.  I have no idea how this method of parenting will turn out but it's all I know how to do.  So far, so good.  I'm also very fortunate that my only responsibilites in life are my husband, my kids, my house.  Aside from being a crappy cook I think I do a pretty good job at my job.  However, this week I've fumbled quite a bit.  Chris has been gone on a much deserved trip and while gone all 4 of us had fevers, coughs, sore throats, ear infections, and nightmares.  It's been a hoot of a week.  On top of that, we've had construction going on in our hallway and kitchen area.  I haven't felt stressed at all, in fact I've had a great time with the kids every day.  I have, however, forgotten very basic things.  Just one (of the many) examples is that today I dropped the kids off at school and not only did I forget Drew's homework at home but WE DIDN'T EVEN DO IT.  I also forgot William's teddybear - today they were having a picnic with their teddybears.  On top of that we were 5 minutes late which to me is the equivalent of being an hour late.  I know these are all small things but this is my only job in life.  The school director said to me, "That's ok.  It's life.  All the important things are taken care of."  I said, "Yeah, you're right.  They are dressed and fed.  Their teeth are brushed.  And I kissed them both as I left their classrooms."  I'm not beating myself up about it 'cause, yeah, life happens.  And this made me feel better.

   

What will yours say?

What would you like for your epitaph to say?  It may seem a grim topic and I don't intend for it to be, but have you thought about it?  If you could sum things up in one single sentence what would you like for it to say?

Every summer I go back to Massachusetts with my mom.  The Homeland.  Now that my grandparents are gone we spend the majority of our time on Cape Cod as opposed to Sudbury, where they lived.  We still go back and visit their grave, plant flowers, see the house, and visit friends.  That usually consists of a day or two at most.  A couple summers ago we took a day trip to the Sleepy Hollow Cemetery in Concord, MA.  We also visited the bridge where the Shot Heard Around the World was fired (c'mon people, the beginning of the Revolutionary War?  Yeah, I knew you knew what I was talking about) and a few other historical landmarks.  I loved the cemetery.  Normally all that stuff freaks me out but this was so interesting.  Like most of the other cemeteries in the area, there are tombstones that date back to the 1700's.  I found it interesting how all the women had their husband's name on their tombstones.  Like mine would say, "Mrs. Christopher Peters".  Many well known locals are buried there.  We took rubbings of Nathanial Hawthorne's grave, Louisa May Alcott's grave, and Ralph Waldo Emerson's grave.  What struck me the most was the grave of a woman who died during the Revolutionary War.  Her epitaph is what I hope mine will say some day.

"She made home a happy place."

Thanks to my old school chum Ralph for bringing up the topic.

Tubes it is!

Drew has had an ear infection every 6 weeks since the late summer.  As a swimmer, my ears and throat hurt more often than they didn't as a kid and I'm not quite sure why I didn't realize that with Drew this was becoming a pattern.  I lived it and can spot the very early signs, long before Drew even knows what is happening.  I wish we'd seen an ENT months ago for her.  Oh, well.  In the past.  TODAY we saw the ENT and her ear infection that was just in her right ear a few days ago is now in her left ear despite the strong antibiotic she's on.  One of the reasons I'm insisting on tubes is because everytime we go through this (yes, we), she needs a stronger antibiotic.  By the time she's 10 she'll be immune to all modern medicine has to offer, not to mention her poor little 4 year old self that is ingesting all this strong stuff just to kill these damn ear infections.  The ENT gave me the pros and cons of getting tubes and I honestly didn't really listen.  I read lots before our appointment and I didn't want the "potential hearing loss from a scar made to the ear drum" to scare me out of it.  My decision was made.  He agreed she's a good candidate (um, ya think?) and I'm just waiting for his assistant to call me with the date.  It's a simple in-and-out procedure.  She'll be put under for a very short amount of time but we're already a pro when it comes to dealing with that.

Thank you, WebMD, for providing elementary illustrations for those of us who need them to know what the hell is going on with our kids.

This is to have succeeded

As of the last week my life consists of fevers, snot, no laundry due to construction, and kids who are snuggly and loving and saving my sanity.  Since none of that is all that interesting I figured I'd just post something from a great blog I've found.  I'll call these my 'fillers'.  On days (or weeks) when my life and brain become totally non-blog worthy, I'll pull one of these lovelies out of my back pocket and post it.

Enjoy your day.

And for anyone who may care, this quote has never been proven to be stated or written by Ralph Waldo Emerson although he's always been given credit for it.  If you're a geek like I am and like things to be absolutely accurate, you can click here to read more.

 

How others live

Do you ever wonder what other people's houses are like?  Like the people you correspond with via email or on facebook or something?  Or the blogs you read?  I totally do.  I'm one of those who LOVES when other people have their blinds open when I'm driving by.  I'm by no means a peeping Tom but I love to glance and see how others live.  I have always been envious of Chris that he gets to enter other people's homes as part of his job.  He assures me that in the ghetto of Oakland I'm not missing much.  Sooo, in case you were wondering what it looks like as I sit here and write my blogs I thought I'd quench YOUR thirst and include a picture.  Here's me on a typical night in our bedroom on my laptop blogging.

Alright, alright.  That's not really me.  But truly the biggest difference is that I don't have a Mac.

Courtesy of Everything Fabulous