Las Vegas Mama

We drove all the way to ballet class only to find that they are on a week-long break. Good one. To further wallow in my sorrows, here is a ballet video from last season. Sigh...

Huh... funny how the last thing on my list always gets done first. If I reverse this I think it will help: Nope. Didn't do the trick. The only thing I have done today is blog. Go fig. Anyway, I think the girls and I are going to go swimming now. 'Cause we have a pool. And we can. I know, it is not on my list. I think the lists needs some slight tweaking. There. That is much better. I am 50% done with my To Do list for today. Gah, I am efficient!! Check out Post It Note Tuesday at SupahMommy !

I actually do not have any cross stitch "Home Sweet Home" art. But it is so comfy-looking that I thought is appropriate since that is what home is to me - comfortable and soothing. What else speaks of comfort? Let see....  Or maybe an awesome love sac (for the record no, I am not pregnant).... What I am trying to get at is that I. AM. HOME.  Cue a spirited Handel's Messiah, "Hallelujah Chorus". I didn't say a good performance of the Chorus...just a spirited one.

As I put the girls to bed tonight the ghetto bird kept coming around. A ghetto bird, for those of you from more privileged backgrounds, is a police helicopter which flies low shining lights into people's backyards as they search for fugitives. That, combined with the firecrackers (in this neighborhood they start about 2 weeks before any given holiday), made it especially hard to get Ivy to fall asleep. And then an hour and a half or so after Violet fell asleep the sounds woke her up. After almost an hour of trying to get Violet to fall back asleep I finally handed her off to my mom to see if she has any luck. There's no place like home. There's no place like home. There's no place like home.

Tomorrow I go back to Las Vegas, which makes me happy. I am ready to be back in my own space. Although I love being around family because of how supportive they are with the girls, I think it is time. I miss my husband who went back early to work. I miss my bed. I miss being in control of my environment. At home I control the food that is in the house. I control our schedule. I control what the girls do. I control the house and everything in it (well, except for my husband - he really resists for some reason. But I am working on it). Here in L.A., everything gets sort of haphazard and the girls generally run amok under the indulgent eye of their grandparents. They love it, and I get a break so it's always nice to visit. But it has been 11 days now and I am ready to be home and get some routine back in our lives.

Hi! I would like to give a huge thanks to Andrea for letting me guest blog here. I am Randi and I host the blog " Watch my garden grow and grow ." A few quick tid bits about me...I am a wife, a mom, a reader, and a gardener. I have never been good at gardening, so I have no idea what happened this year...all of a sudden a have a garden, and it's blooming. Well, blooming isn't the right word. How about thriving, exploding? Anyway, since I have so much fun playing in my garden, I try to include my family in my shenanigans. I include my husband, Matt, by asking him to do all the hard stuff, like building things, putting things together, you know, the "man stuff". To include my daughter, Lucy, who is just over two, I have FILLED my garden with colors. The more color, the better. I have the future maintenance of my garden all planned out, too. My husband will build everything, Lucy is going to mow the grass, and since there will be nothing left for me to do,

...In rushing, rising riv'lets... Today, the day after my grandmother passed away (has it only been one day??), Ivy and Violet have both come down with the stomach flu. A really messy stomach flu that got extra specially messy all over my sister's pristine snow white bed spread. Oops. While I was loading the girls up in the car to bring them back to my mom's (where we are staying), I got paged from an unknown number with the message "PLEASE CALL - 911" Heart pounding, I called and found out that my dog had escaped and was found cowering under someone's car. Hardly a 911 situation, people. Seriously. But still, I am glad we got her back. I think.

...And my Abuelita is at peace at last. I am going to miss her. She had 101 years of life well lived. Here is a video of her dancing at a party last month.

Since we have been cooped up at my grandma's bedside for days, yesterday evening my sister Natalia and I went on a walk, hoping that the fresh air would clear our heads and improve our tense mood. We walked up to our old high school and then our old junior high, pointing out buildings and remembering days gone by. We laughed about things, we brought up old memories. But it wasn't until we caught the familiar scent of some of the buildings, and then put our noses up to those buildings to more deeply take in the scent that we realized that our trip down memory lane was bordering on the creepy. At the gate to the high school's competitive pool we sniffed at the metal gate which for some reason brought a flood of fond memories forth (we had both been on the swim team). We also peered in the windows to the main buildings and sniffed at the soft breeze emanating from the crack of the junior high school office door. We were officially stalking our old schools. We ran the rest

I am back down in L.A. to be with my family because my Abuelita is pretty much at the last of her very long life. She turned 101 yesterday, but the "celebration" consisted of sitting at her bedside and keeping watch through the long night. We think it will just be a matter of days now, if that. Needless to say I am not much in the blogging mood, as inspiration seems quite scarce at the moment. So I thought I would put a call out to you guys and see if anyone is interested in helping me out by writing a guest blog. As a guest blogger you can answer my call in one of three ways: 1 - For you fellow Las Vegas mamas you could review a kid friendly place that you would like to share with us all (pictures are nice but not strictly necessary) and tell us why you do or do not recommend it. 2 - You could wait for your kids to do something interesting, funny or flat out crazy, and write it up so we can all share in the amazingness (is that a word?) of your kids. Pictures of the wa

Ok, so I am not trying to make a political statement because that is not what this blog is for. But this video is all sorts of hilarious. It's done by a group called Auto Tune the News. If you do a search on them on YouTube there are a ton of equally hilarious videos based on news commentary. They seem to really like using Katie Couric. A lot. My favorite part of this video starts at 1 min 50 secs, but whole thing is ridiculously great. Here is the direct link because the embedded video looks like its cut off in my browser and I cannot figure it out. You really need to see the whole image for maximum enjoyment. I am just saying. They also did this following video, which is not at all funny but extremely moving. I just really liked it and wanted to share. I cannot get over how awesome MLK was. Dang. It just gives me the chills. The footage used was from a speech he made the night before he was assasinated. The melody is stuck in my head now.

As a woman, never in a million years would it have even occurred to me to put Ivy up there. Phillip, being a dude, thinks up this kind of lunacy all the time. And that, my friends, is the primary difference between men and women. P.S. She loved it and keeps begging us to put her back up there.

Today was Violet's first Mommy & Me ballet class at Fairytales & Tutus . I was so excited about it! We have been practicing her dance moves. Before we left this morning we even went through the moves... plie. .. arabesque ... tendu . Violet completed the moves beautifully and with obvious enjoyment. I knew she was ready. But when we got there, all her confidence and interest evaporated like ... well like something that evaporates super fast. I am fresh out of similes today. There I was, smiling, camera eagerly out and ready... and there she was, desperately sucking her thumb and making the same face she makes when she hears the water drain out of the tub. It's not a good face, in case you are wondering. Through the stretching exercises all the way through to the dress up, she was clingy and kept trying to stick her hand down my shirt for a little muppet comfort. The only time she sort of became interested was during a hopping exercise where the girls got a kiss f

Oh how I love places that spell things with a "K".  It just adds a certain je ne sais quoi. You know you are in for a special treat when they just straight up do away with the letter "C". Like maybe a treat in the form of a fluorescent-lit red plastic bargain bin sale. Or something similarly wonderful. Like Krispy Kremes . See what I mean about the letter "K"? My previous experience in visiting other children's resale clothing store was Kid to Kid . Although the only thing I love more than buying adorable clothes for my girls is buying adorable clothes for next to nothing, the ambiance at Kid to Kid left a little to be desired. It was a bit shabby and crowded, and the toys look dirty. But the family-run Kid's Kloset in Green Valley was nothing like that. It's clean, bright, and very well-ordered. They have name brand stuff and they carry sizes newborn to a kid's size 8 (or at least that was the largest size I saw). They have clothes,

Admittedly, that may not have been that hard. But I did think it was funny that the dog quietly allowed herself to get buried under the toys during our last road trip. I know I said next time I wrote a dog post it would be about how I show the dog that I hate her back. But after witnessing the poor little pooch quietly sit through dress up games, fur pulling, being made into a "baby" as she was carried around the house, and just generally manhandled, I have decided she serves a purpose. She even allowed herself to be put into a very small cardboard box without complaint. I think she fell asleep in it, that is how little she cares what is done to her as long as she can be close to us. So she she is as dumb as a rock. So she trips me up when I walk, and tries to jump on our dinner table along with a host of other bad behaviors . The girls love her and she loves them. That's good enough for me.

It's a little game I call, "Where's the Poop?" I know, you are intrigued. You are already thinking, "I wonder if this is something I can use as an ice breaker at my next party." Well... ya can't. Not unless your next party involves some pretty weird people. In which case, go ahead. I am hereby giving you usage rights, free of charge. You're welcome. The game starts with a toddler, in this case Violet, taking off all her clothes, including her diaper. The next part of the game involves me discovering a brown smear on her leg and/or bum, thus alerting me to the fact that we are in the middle of a high stakes game of "Where's the Poop?" The object of the game, as you may have discerned with your astute powers of deduction, is to find the poop before Violet finds it again and does something Play-Doh-ish with it (assuming she hasn't already). For non-parents I understand if you get squeamish here and don't read any further. Par

I did a major cleaning on Tuesday, and ever since I have maintained the neatness and order. Its only been a couple of days but this is a major accomplishment for me since the moment I clean it, it is messy within a couple of hours. Sometimes within a couple of minutes. However, I have discovered these last few days that if you put toys back in their box, wash the dishes, and put 10 things away every single day ... your house would be clean all the time. Huh. Go figure. Behold the beauty, Day 3....

I am going to abdicate my position as mother and probably go on an extended vacation. I am handing over duties and responsibilities to Ivy. I think she is ready. I have written a short play, based on actual events, to demonstrate my reasons for thinking this. La Petite Maman , By Andrea The Scene: Breakfast The Players: Ivy - a precocious 3 year old, and Violet - a fiesty 18 month old. Ivy sits quietly at the kid's table, eating her toast. Violet's food has also been served, and is getting cold. Violet enters stage left. Violet: abalsanama caladmsla. Ivy: Eat your food, Violet. Sit down. Violet (casually) : blajajamdmhsa. Ivy: Violet, you need to eat your food now. Instead of sitting, Violet takes Ivy's napkin. Ivy: Violet!! I'm using that! Give it back. Violet: No. Ivy: Don't you sass me! Violet defiantly throws the napkin in the trash. Ivy (in her best "how dare you" tone) : Violet?! That is rude! And condescending. You get a

I have no idea where people go for oil changes, because I have only ever gone to the Chrysler dealership at the Auto Show Mall or whatever its called (off the 95 and Auto Show Drive). I also do not know if other oil change places have kiddie areas as well. That said, I am still going post this because I like it and and who knows who might benefit from know it. For a $20 oil change (you don't need to own a Chrysler to be serviced there) you can go hang out in their air conditioned kiddie area which is enclosed with a baby corral, and is complete with kid sized chairs, tubs of legos and toys, and a play house. I really don't like getting oil changes, and the Chrysler dealership makes oil changes as painless as humanly possible. I can sit there with a book, or I can talk on the phone, or do whatever I generally want to do with barely an upward glance because they are right there with me, gated in and entertained. The other great thing is that I have never been in there with anyo

...that you have attained new heights of laziness....You text your husband (who is in the other room) from your bed, where you are laying down for a nap to tell him that the baby is not interested in napping with you and has wandered in his direction. In my defense I woke up at 5:30 this morning. Not so much in my defense - he woke up at 5am, and was working from home today. Man, I suck.

...That the sales lady at Dave's Bridal * didn't even bat an eye when I stated matter-of-factly that I needed to find a gown for Ivy because she is a child bride. Wearing her bestest ever beauty queen smile, she brightly responded, "Sure, why don't you come over here and I'll show you what we've got!" The other sales lady beside her was also smiling, though hers faltered a bit and a look of consternation was trying really hard to hijack her face and take that smile hostage. "I'm so just kidding!" I said quickly. Second Sales Lady seemed relieved, and laughed nervously. Beauty Queen Sales Lady continued to smile, laughed a little and just said that I'd be surprised at the kind of requests they get. I probably would be surprised, seeing as how they sell special occasion gowns, and how weird can you possibly get with that? Child brides requests notwithstanding. * Incidentally, we were there to buy opera gloves for Ivy to use in dress u

Today when Ivy was served a nice little dome of Jell-O she got all excited because it was just like my belly. "Look, mom! Look! Look! It's like your belly! I just poke it and ploop ! It feels like your belly!" Some might be encouraged to stop eating fattening foods and start excercising a bunch. That is just a fool's errand. I am much more efficient than that. I am hereby imposing a Jell-O Moratorium, by Royal Mom Proclamation. At least until Ivy learns what tact is. And maybe only then. Maybe.

Today we went to Red Rock Canyon to try out the children's hiking trail. It's called Lost Creek, and you can get a map at the visitor's center before you proceed through the 13-mile loop just to make sure you know where you are going.  (The entrance fee to the canyon is $7 per car.) The visitor's center has a live desert iguana and various other displays as well as a gift shop. They call it a "children's trail", but in my mind childhood spans 0-18 years, so let me tell you what the reality is. Ages 3 and up can make it pretty well, though they will still need a little help climbing over some of the rockier parts. The trail starts out as a gravel path and then comes to a fork in the road. You take the right fork, and then it become rocks and steps that you have to climb up and over. Not too difficult, but definitely a little bit of a challenge. Since I brought my 18 month old as well as my very cautious 3 year old I soon discovered that making i

Favorite bowl or drink cup when all dishes are dirty: Measuring cups Favorite kid activity when mommy-energy is depleted: Dragging out the inflatable and letting them jump on it Favorite ninja vegetable sneak attack: Lacing the spaghetti sauce with pureed zucchini   Favorite zero-mess snack: No such thing as zero mess, moving on  Favorite sleep substitute: Double latte, sans foam art Favorite no-effort kid lunch: Microwavable chicken fingers and ketchup

 I just finished my most recent princess dress creation, which has been a lot of fun to work on.... and after some encouragement from friends I decided to just go ahead and list it on Etsy . We'll see if anyone bites!

Just about every month I think I am pregnant again. Some might call it wishful thinking. I call it the gaping maw of dark fear. Not because I don't want another baby, I absolutely do. I wish I already had a new baby. But I do not want to go through pregnancy, not ever again. The experience was so torturous, I dread the day I get pregnant again. Lots of women feel great when they are pregnant, I just happen not to be one of them. The things that make me suffer during pregnancy are as follow: Tiredness Sleepiness Severe and continual back pain Faintness Fatigue Nausea for 4 1/2 months Drowsiness Exhaustion Plus I am not one of those cute, perky little pregnant ladies. I look like a cow. My belly pops out at about week 2 (seriously) and continues to grow like a radioactive watermelon until I burst. Here is a picture of my belly on the day I went into labor with Violet. This time around, with the extra weight I am carrying, I am pretty sure it will be an unhealthy preg