wait.....I have a blog?

Sorry folks. I may or may not be living in a mental institution. D was in Costa Rica for 3 weeks in Jan (he leads a sad, sad life). And me+alone+2 children+winter=survival mode. Sorry to say, blogging is not part of survival mode (shocking, I know). And THEN we went to Northern CA to visit family for a week. You're lucky I returned. I almost set up shop in their garage.

Anywho. Happy Presidents' Day to all. We spent ours eating, watching TV and generally being lazy. How that differs from other days as of late, I really have no idea. But it felt super special. Posting has now resumed.

heart,

Sarah

lion's mane.

My dear friend Katelyn just so happens to be my hairdresser. Yesterday I was in for a much needed color and trim. After we were done I snapped a photo of my fallen comrades......

That mass of hair dear friends, is from a 1/2" trim and a lot of thinning. Yes. Thinning - purposely removing hair so I don't resemble a lion. Its enough for a toupee, or at least Donald Trump sized comb over. Disturbing - yet I can't look away.

Also, today I let out a huge disgusting burp (it happens, get over it), and immediately Dave goes "Your hair looks really good". Now that, is awesomely beautiful distracting hair. Thanks for saving my marriage Katelyn.

priorities: popsicles, mismatched jammies, and "puke-smas eve".

Spent a good part of the weekend with food poisoning. I'm pretty sure I speak for everyone when I say, if you're that sick, all priorities/social graces go out the window. You're purely in survival mode. Case and point - aimlessly wandering through Winco in mismatched pajamas, slippers and disgusting hair didn't hold a candle to making sure I found the exact popsicle I wanted.

Dave did offer to go to the store for me, but last minute I decided to go in myself. Because if he came out with the wrong popsicle I'd have to murder him.

And YES, I found it. Orange Creamsicle. Or should I say Orange Dream-sicle. It may have been very the best meal I've had in eternity. Puking for 2 days give you a new perspective on food, dare I say. The Orange Dreamsicle almost replaced my #1 "post puking for 3 days meal"....Ritz and Dr. Pepper. It was Christmas 2002, or as I refer to it "Puke-smas Eve", the night Santa definitely didn't deliver.....

Happy weekend indeed.

santa lying slavery (playing Christmas catch-up)

I've never been onboard with the whole "Santa" thing, and therefore have never gone into great detail about Santa with my children. I think its because I feel weird lying to them. (So, where does Santa live? Why can't all reindeer fly? How do you know Santa likes cookies? The questions go on for eternity). But I may as well have asked Dave if I could sell the chillins for medical experiments when I told him I didn't want to indulge in the Santa myth. Thus I'm forced into Santa lying slavery. Because of all this, you can imagine that my children are less than prepared when it comes to St. Nick.

When it came time for PG to sit on Santa's lap at our church Christmas party - he looked at me like I was crazy, and rightfully so. We're encouraging our young children to sit on a strange old man's lap for candy. Think about it people.

Mom, can't I just stand and talk to him? Why do I need to tell him what I want? I already sent him a letter.....Good point son, I understand your confusion. And no, no you do not have to sit on his lap (although peer pressure coerced him in to it).

Also - isn't part of good parenting forcing your children to do something terrifying for your amusement? This is Ells approx. 1 millisecond after I plopped her on Santa's lap....

Oh the humanity!

Isn't part of good parenting forcing your children to do something terrifying for your amusement...TWICE?

Sorry little lady, I had to do it again, because it was just that funny. (I honestly thought the candy would sweeten the deal. Ha...hahahaha. No, no it did not.)

And to all a good night.

lessons learned.

• Swimming = exhausting. Not because of the physical exertion, but because it's ridiculously cold when you get out. (yes it was an indoor pool, and yes I'm a wuss).
• Being a mature grown up means that when one of your favorite bands is performing in Park City, and you can't find a sitter, you just don't get to go. BUT that doesn't mean I have to be happy about it. See? Mature.....
• I've watched all of the Grey's Anatomy there is to watch. NOW WHAT?!
• How long is it appropriate to leave your Christmas wreath up? Pretty sure my front door is an abomination.
• "Letting" PG pick out a duvet = saying no to a duvet with alligators on it. Really child?

the bieber sea expandeth......

I still don't know who or what you are, but there you were, in the mall (surprise, surprise), selling me.....cologne? Most certainly you were not giving me directions, like I'd asked.

WHAT IS GOING ON?

Clearly.....

There is no better way to eat Chex.

Or be a better parent.