Somebody's gone glam...

After having enough of wiping stringy hair out of various cereals and sauce, I gave up and got Gracie a haircut. She loved it. She also loves suckers.

Let's talk about...ME!

Here it is...the vast majority of my time goes to my children. I am perfectly fine with this. I've never been surrounded by so much darling in my entire life. Just today Gracie raced down the street yelling "Ice cream truck, where are you?" at the top of her lungs. Jared broke out with a great big belly laugh when I said "Okay". My heart almost burst with cute overload. But sometimes, at the end of the day I wonder what it is I would like to do with myself when my kids don't need...or want...my undying devotion and attention. As I ponder while staring blankly into a television broadcasting a rerun of House Hunters International, I find a few things stir an emotion inside my heart that feels something similar to excitement. Here they are in no particular order. I want to make all these my goals.

1. A great cook and a fantastic baker. I daydream about owning a bakery...all the time. In my mind I've already planned out the menu, its color scheme, and the music I would play. I watch the cooking channel with the passion of an Olympic athlete. I want my hands to be as manicured as Giadia's, the ease of Barefoot Contessa, and the style (and pantry) of Nigella.

2. Get my Masters in literature or creative writing. Rock on. Doesn't this sound like fun? I love school and nothing brings out the nerd in me more than a good book.

3. Always write. Right now I feel low on my creative juices, but when I am not writing I am thinking about it. Hopefully my non-mom brain comes back and I am able to take a pen in my hand and actually do something with it.

4. Always stay in shape. This one is not so much fun, but I want to stay active and somewhat agile. I love to walk, I love the outdoors. Am I not just like Elizabeth Bennett? I know. Anyway. Walking outside makes me happy. I always want to do it.

5. Have an outrageously cute house. That's right. I said outrageously. I want it to have a perfect blend of summer color, whimsy, and for it to never take its self to seriously.

6. Have a food storage that I would actually eat. With all the diverse happenings and expensive gas and food I think this is a good goal. I don't know about you, but I don't really want to sit down to a bowl full of wheat.

6. Above all, I want my soul and my spirit to keep maturing, my marriage to be joyful, my kids to be happy, and for me to grow in wisdom. I will not discuss these things here because they make me weepy. I don't want to get weepy.

There, I think I am done talking about me. Thanks for listening...or reading...or whatever blogging is.

What I learned today...

There's a big difference between green chiles and jalapeno peppers. Let's just say Sean's in for a wicked surprise tonight for dinner....mwhahahahahaha

Baby Nose Blow

I've figured out a way for Jared to breath a little easier. I am going to copy right my idea and market it as "life changing for babies with a cold..." and then in a quiet whisper voice say "may not work for all babies". Anyway, Jared has had a cold since birth and simply by mistake we discovered that if you put him on his stomach, he grunts all his snot out. After spending an hour with the blue snot suction bulb, I simply give up and stick up on his stomach to struggle around for 5 minutes...problem solved. As you can see, Gracie is not so sure how ethical the procedure actually is. Just look away, sweet daughter, look away.

New Buddy...

I've got a new best friend. She's with me wherever I go. She's highly disorganized, a little dirty, but man, she's got a great sense of style. I call her "Giant Bag". She weighs almost as much as me and contains 15 million diapers. Bless her.

Really now...

Here is something you might not know about me, I have a horrifying phobia of dogs...and balloons. Balloons? Why balloons? They are so pretty and shiny and plastic. This is why. When I was young my brother would torture me . The day after a party he would grab a pin and say "Autumn, I'm going to pop this balloon." I watched in horror as he slowly moved the pin closer and closer to the balloon, my heart racing with every nearing inch. My face slowly contorting into one of abject terror. He would smile wildly while watching the pain on my face. Then when the pin was a centimeter away from the balloon and my heart almost bursting from the "pop" anticipation, I would cover my ears, run screaming from the room and hide in the coat closet, behind the couch, or simply run outside and down the street. I am not sure if he ever popped a balloon or not.

I now have a daughter that believes a party is not a party until there are balloons. I am fine with this. I have slightly matured and don't have a problem with balloons so long as they are in no danger of popping. Sean purchased himself a couple of colorful latex balloons and a mylar froggy balloon for his upcoming birthday party. (Sean, I promise to never make you buy balloons for your own party ever again...unless we have a new baby.) Gracie fell in love with the froggy balloon. I quickly threw the un-popped latex balloons away, but left the mylar one to bounce around our living room for a week or so. One night, I decided I'd had it with the balloon. I waited until no one was around, snuck into garage and dumped it. It's important to note that this balloon had a tiny weight on it and was fully intact. I wasn't going to pop it. There, the deed was done. The next morning Gracie moaned and complained a little, but I quickly distracted her by turning on the TV.

This morning we all woke up to the sound of the garbage truck lumbering down our street. This is terribly exciting for everyone except me. I rested in bed while Gracie frantic with excitement had Sean lift her up to see the truck out our window, their faces rife with the excitement that only a garbage truck can bring. Sean discussed how cool it was, Gracie's eyes were as wide as the garbage can lids.

"Hey Autumn," said Sean, the smile on his face now totally gone.

"What."

"My balloon! My balloon!" wailed Gracie.

Apparently that stupid balloon floated to the top of the garbage truck and was sailing along the top of it. Dang it. I have now promised to buy Gracie half a million new balloons next time we go to the grocery store.

Nervous

Gracie is entering her princess phase. This is all well and good...beautiful dresses, magical wands, fun jewelry. Because of this I bought her a princess coloring book. I just finished coloring with her and must say I am unsettled. Every other picture was of a princess kissing a prince or looking dreamily at a prince or some other sillyness. Most girls enter their princess phase at 2 or 3 or 4, how young to push an idea that they need to be staring at boys. Where were the pictures of the princesses with books? I looked and couldn't find one. I want Gracie to know she can be anything she wants (so long as it's not a drug dealer and such) and that a man is not necessary to her dreams and goals. That is how girls end up with bad men. They've been taught by society that it's imperative to their happiness. I know there is no way that I can make Gracie not feel like she needs a man to be happy. I think its part of being a girl, the wanting to be in love. But I can teach her that there are other things out there and other things to do in the meantime and that she is special and deserves to be treated with respect.

I think I am going to rip those pages out.