My DUH Moment

Let's rewind back to Wednesday night, shall we?  I was getting my lunch ready for Thursday. I was pretty excited about a salad I was making. It had romaine lettuce, some diced green and red peppers, sliced strawberries, and some fat free cheddar... SO delicious!  I also packed a little container of frozen chicken pieces. My dressing is a strawberry vinaigrette.  Doesn't that sound refreshing?!?!  Well... On the way to work on Thursday, I realized that I forgot my dressing.  My options were to either save the salad for Friday and bop on over to Subway for a salad, or "borrow" some dressing from the fridge at work.  I told a couple people that I forgot my dressing and they both offered theirs!  Perfect!  I found a tasty balsamic vinaigrette in the fridge and was good to go.  Bonus, someone brought in a bag of nuts so I was able to have fresh cracked walnuts, almonds, and pecans on my salad, as well!

Lunchtime comes around and I am probably more excited for this salad than is normal, but who cares?!  I popped the chicken into the microwave for a minute and began cracking my nuts.  I was getting too frustrated with the stupid wrench that we had to use to crack the nuts (note: if you take a sack 'o nuts into your workplace, take a freakin' nut cracker!) and finally gave up.  I was able to get a few walnuts, a couple of pecans, and one lonely almond.  I poured the dressing on and ate that salad right up!  It was really good!

After we got home from Jaden's school carnival last night and I got both girls in bed, I grabbed my lunch bag from my diaper bag so I could pack my lunch for Friday.  That's when it hit me.
MY CHICKEN WAS STILL IN THE MICROWAVE.
That's right.  I never took the flippin' chicken out!  Are you kidding me?!  I was looking forward to that salad all night and day!  How on earth could I have forgotten the chicken??

I got to work this morning and immediately went into the lounge and saw that the microwave still said "END."  That means I was the last person to use it and sure enough, there sat my warm, smelly chicken.  Today, I packed another salad.  I brought my dressing and another piece of chicken.  Let's hope I still have half a brain by the time lunch rolls around again!  Totally explains why I was so hungry by the end of the work day yesterday... TGIF.

Armageddon is close...

I'm done, you guys.  I'm giving up.  I don't know what else I can do in these TRYING TIMES!  I can NOT handle any more.  I'm serious.

I'm been slacking on blogging a bit and that is because on top of getting things ready for the Home & Garden Show, and wrapping up a few photo shoots, I am running on no sleep.  Last week (or was it the week before?), I begged for your help with my WONDERFUL three-year-old and her not-so-wonderful bedtime routine.  You guys were awesome!  I ordered the book that was recommended and tried a new approach to bedtime.  We've decided that at bedtime, Taylor is having separation anxiety.  Apparently this is very common with kids her age.  I've solved the problem by tucking her into bed, showing her where five minutes is on the clock and promising to come check on her, and then after five minutes has passed, I go to her room and sit on her floor to read my book.  Taylor knows that I will be back.  She knows that I will stay with her until she falls asleep (usually takes 5-10 minutes).  Our one rule is, she must lay down with her eyes closed or I will leave the room.  It has been working without a fault!  Yes, it may be what some would call a "bad habit" when it comes to bedtime, but I don't care.  If she needs someone in there with her, I'm all for it.  Five to ten minutes sitting on her floor, reading quietly to myself, is much more enjoyable that an hour of yelling and fighting.  I win.

There is one problem.  Taylor wakes up in the night, too.  She has been waking up and calling for me every night, usually around 2-3 a.m.  A couple of times, I've sat on her floor for a few minutes until she fell back asleep.  Some times were longer than others.  She would have a hard time falling asleep, so I would grab a pillow and blanket, and camp out in her room.  When she was softly snoring, I headed back to my bed for another hour or two of sleep.  A couple of times, I had her come to my room and sleep on the floor.  Whatever it took to get bot of us back to sleep as quickly as possible.  It sucks, I'm not gonna lie.  I have had enough of the broken nights.

BUT, waking up in the night and then going right back to sleep is WAY better than the situation we had last night.  Taylor woke up at 3 a.m.  I did as I usually do; went into her room and tried to get her to lay down.  I offered to sit on her floor... NOPE.  She would rather pout.  No big deal, right?  WRONG.  In Taylor, pouting is only a lead into a full-blown tantrum.  So I stood there.  Wait for it... wait for it... WWWAAAAAAHHHHHHH AAAAHHHHHHHH!!!  There it is!  I held her and calmed her down, trying to get to the root of the problem.  Last night, it was "wonky socks."  One little twisted sock totally wrecked her universe.  I tried to fix said sock.  No go.  I tried convincing her to take the blasted sock off.  Nope.  Change socks?  Ain't happening.  After an hour, she ended up coming into our room to sleep on the floor... and toss and turn for the rest of the night because of that stupid sock... or whatever reason.  It sucked.  I'm tired.

Tantrums are the worst.  People talk about tantrums and other people are like, "yeah, that must be inconvenient."  Or, "why don't you just give her a little spanking?"  Or, "Just give her what she wants, she'll stop."  Easier said than done, people.  Taylor's tantrums have the touchiest little trigger.  ANYTHING can set her off.  There is NO off switch.  She may start a tantrum because of a wonky sock, but fixing the dumb sock will NOT end the tantrum.  Nothing... not spanking, giving in, ignoring, NOTHING stops a tantrum.

Last week, Mike's mom picked Taylor up from daycare.  For one reason or another, Taylor started in.  Karen had heard us complaining about the tantrums, but had yet to experience one.  Sure, she had seen Taylor drop to the floor and pout, but she was finally able to get the full experience.  I went to pick both girls up at Karen's house that evening after work.  I walk in and BAM.  WWWAAAAAAHHHHHHH AAAAHHHHHHHH!!!  She was writhing on the floor, kicking and screaming.  From what I could get out of her, it had something to do with fishy crackers.  I had to fight to get her coat on, only to have her throw it off.  I had to fight to get her shoes on, only to have her kick them off.  I finally decided to just put her in the car sans coat and shoes.  We only live down the street from Karen's house.  It's seriously a 30-second drive.  I did my best to strap Taylor into her seat while she did her best to fight me, arching her back and kicking her legs.  In that 30-second drive, Taylor managed to slide her way out of her seat belt and climb into the front seat.  When we got out of the car, she was arching her back and sliding out of my arms, still screaming. It was NOT fun.

This has been happening daily.  Not always to that extent, but still happening.  You all helped me with my bedtime problems so I am counting on your advice with the tantrums.  I know it is just her age and that everyone goes through it.  But help me cope with getting through it because it is seriously breaking me.  I'm frustrated.  I'm tired.  I'm just done.  Help.

This Mama needs some HELP!

The number one most misunderstood thing when it comes to parenting is the Terrible Twos.  The number one most misunderstood thing when it comes to 3-year-olds is bedtime.

You see, when Mike and I were new parents, we heard talk of the Terrible Twos phase.  You know, when your child turns two years old, she would throw temper tantrums and even though it wouldn't necessarily be ok, we would deal with it because, well, it was to be expected!  Then when your child turns three years old, she would magically go back to being that angel that she was before the T2 phase!  You know what I'm talking about, right?  Well my friends, I'm here to tell you that it is all a big LIE!

The Truth About the Terrible Twos

1. The T2 phase STARTS at age two-ish and lasts for at least two years.
2. You will look back on those newborn nights when your baby cried for a bottle and then went right back to sleep and think, "It really wasn't that bad!"
3. The child will NOT win the battle.
4. The parent will NOT win the battle.
5. Threats don't work.
6. Rewards don't work.
7. Punishments don't work.
8. It is a battle... With no clear ending in sight.
9. It will stop as suddenly as it started.

We are right in the middle of the T2 phase with Miss Taylor Max.  She is stubborn, she pouts, she whines, she cries, she throws herself on the ground, she screams.  The only thing is, she only does this at bedtime!  For some reason unknown to all other humans, she hates bedtime.  Apparently she believes that bedtime is just a myth and it is something that she doesn't believe in.  She also must think that her family is pretty dumb to believe in the concept of bedtime, because she doesn't like to let anyone else in the house get a full, restful night of sleep!  

When we talk about this with other people, the first thing we are asked is, "What time does she go to bed?"  Bedtime is 7:30.  Yes, it is early, but when you are a kid and need to wake up at 6:00 in the morning, 7:30 really isn't that bad.  Actually, 7:30 is her sweet spot.  Any earlier and she isn't quite tired enough and throws a fit because she isn't tired.  Any later and she is overly tired and throws a fit... for no reason except that she is tired.  We have the best chance of going to bed good if she is in bed at exactly 7:30.  On occasion, Jaden gets to stay up until 8:00.  Mostly to let Taylor cry it out for a half-hour or so, but also because she is past the T2 phase and "gets it."  We've tried rewarding Taylor with staying up a little later and it backfires almost every single time.

Mike and I have tried it all.  We have rewarded going to bed good.  We have taken away her Dora movies, her Maxine, her blankie, her stuffed animal... it does NOT work.  We have tried letting her cry.  We have tried closing her door.  We have tried reasoning with her.  It doesn't matter.  We have asked our parents, friends with kids, and even doctors for advice.  The answer always comes down to, "It is a phase and she will grow out of it."  We know this, but it doesn't make it any easier.

Jaden went through the same thing when she was 2½-3.  She cried and screamed at bedtime.  I remember it so well because Taylor was a newborn.  Between the two of them, Mike and I were getting no sleep at all.  I also know that Jaden grew out of it eventually.  

So, Mike and I are basically at the end of our rope.  We are about to lose it.  It is the most frustrating thing in the world.  I know that it probably seems like I am making mountains out of molehills, but I'm not.  It is hard to handle.  It is hard to know what is the right thing to do.  Right now, it basically boils down to the fact that she doesn't want to be left alone.  She wants either Mike or myself to stay in her room until she falls asleep.  I don't mind doing that every so often, but I'm scared that it will develop into a habit that will cause more problems down the road.  A few times this week, I have sat on her floor next to her bed and let her hold onto my finger.  She falls asleep almost instantly.  When she is snoring, I replace my finger with Maxine's (her favorite doll) arm.  It works, but I'm afraid it is only making the whole problem worse, because eventually we will have to not do that.  Then what?

I know that every kid goes through this.  I know that we will all survive.  I also know that she was pouting and throwing a fit off and on from 11:30-2:30.  We got less than three hours of sleep last night.  Tell me what to do next because I feel like it's time to call Supernanny!

Five Things I Have Learned

1. No matter the situation, I will always have at least one person tell me I was wrong or that I have done it the wrong way.  No matter what, my good intentions will always be perceived as selfish to at least one person. I'm ok with that. If someone else has the time and energy to put into critiquing my every move, I feel sorry for them. Get your own life.
2. Hugs can stop temper tantrums 90% of the time. Taylor is smack dab in the middle of the terrible twos and has recently become an expert tantrum thrower. I get down to her level, speak in a soft voice, and hold my arms out. Most of the time she crawls right onto my lap and cuddles the bad stuff away. The times it doesn't work, I just walk away. She comes around eventually. Love her!
3. I will never have had enough sleep. I need to just get used to being tired all the time. It doesn't matter if I go to bed at 9:00 or midnight. I'll still be dragging when my alarm goes off at 5 in the morning.
4. Starbucks espresso HATES me. One heavenly sip is like swallowing 500 tiny daggers. My stomach turns into a solid, heavy bowling ball. I have switched from my non-fat no-whip mocha and my iced non-fat raspberry latte to an equally delicious yet safer iced coffee caramel non-fat. We get along MUCH better!
5. I have some pretty wonderful friends. It's nice to know that I have people that I can count on. I've wasted too much time and energy on high-maintenance friendships. If I have to work to be your friend, it's just not worth it. Don't get me wrong, if those people need me, I will be there because that is the type of person I am. BUT, if I am in need of someone, they will not be my go-to. I've been disappointed far too much.

"Oh, crap."

I'm tired.  This week has kicked my butt. 

On Monday evening, Taylor wasn't feeling so hot.  We had just finished dinner and the girls wanted to go outside and play.  I went out with them to do a little yard work between swing pushes.  Taylor started moaning and rubbing her tummy.  I asked her if she was going to throw up... no.  I asked her if she had to go poop... no.  Touched her head... cool.  She's fine, just ate too much, right?  She climbs to the top of the slide.  I have my back to her as I am cursing the squirrels and/or bunnies for yet another half eaten tomato, when suddenly Jaden screams.  I turn around and am flashing back to the days of chillin' on the couch at Mom and Dad's watching Double Dare.  Taylor diarrhea'd down the slide!  I scoop her up and tell her to STAND STILL and don't touch the poop!  I run inside, lay a diaper pad down, and start running a bath.  I go outside and Mike is swatting flies away (why do flies like to eat poop??)  Taylor is upset and feeling a little crappy (hehe!)  I get her all cleaned up and back outside we go!  Now, what on earth do I do with poopy pants?  Teach those darned squirrels a lesson, that's what!  This is where it gets a little disgusting.  I sprayed her pants out right by my tomato plants because guess what Taylor had for dinner the night before... CORN.  Enjoy, my furry friends!  Bwahhaahhhahha (evil laugh)!

Well, apparently T had a little virus.  She was acting fine the next morning but didn't eat much of her breakfast.  Around noon, the babysitter called me.  Taylor was having "loose stools" again and wasn't feeling well.  I went to get the poor baby.  After her nap, she seemed to feel a little better. 

Jaden: "My tummy hurts."

Wednesday morning, I head to Walgreen's to pick up some children's Pepto.  Obviously Jaden wouldn't take it and Taylor cried because she wanted more.  No fevers + no throwing up = to the sitters.  Guess what?  They were fine!  No yucky reports for the day when Mike picked them up!

I went to Michigan for a little shopping trip with my mom that day.  I was literally two minutes away from home and Mike calls me, "You should probably go a different way because there is water coming up out of the street and kids (not ours) are playing in it."  I detoured around the block because the police had already taped off the water and were actually standing guard.  The girls had already eaten supper and were ready for bed.  We got them down and I went to make dinner for Mike and myself.  Spaghetti.  Small problem... the water had been turned off.  We called 311 and we were told, "There is a water main break on your street and because the children in the neighborhood were playing in the water, it needed to be turned off.  We wouldn't want a child to slip and be run over by a vehicle or drown."  So basically because parents have no control over their kids (or just don't care) we don't have water... nice.  They estimated that the water would be turned back on around 1:30 a.m.  We opt for Pizza Hut take-out.

After dinner and a little Big Brother, the storms start up.  It is pouring down rain and really windy.  All of a sudden, darkness.  The power went out.  J cries because the storms woke her up and she is scared.  It was really bad out.  We were tempted to go down to the basement, but I didn't want to wake Taylor up if it wasn't necessary.  So, Mike sat with Jaden and we both watched outside and listened for a tornado siren.  Eventually, the storm passed.  We called the electric company and they guessed that power would be restored around 2:30 a.m. 

No water.  No power.  Nice.

Everything was back to normal the next morning!  The shower spit some yellow water at first, but then it was ok!  After work, we came home and had spaghetti.  Mike's mom was on her way over so we could go to a meeting at J's preschool.  I went to do dishes and again, no water.  Luckily, it was turned on by the time we got home so the girls could get a bath. 

It's been a tiring week.

BUT, I did get some good news!  Disney Family Fun saw my post on the Hit The Road badge and loved our road map idea!  They want to feature it in their next issue along with a picture of my girls!  You all will have to go out and buy the October issue when it comes out so you can see these cuties:

Way to go, girls! 

TGIF...

Two of Them

When Mike and I were planning our wedding, I was also planning when I was going to have children.  I wanted four.  I was uneducated and unsmart.  I would think about how far apart I wanted our kids (all four of them) to be.  No more than two years!  I wanted to go from one baby to the next... Do the math.  That is like 8 years of pregnancy and babies!  Like I said, I was unsmart. 

We were married in July of 2006 and Miss Jaden arrived right on time in April of 2007.  Exactly nine months after we were married.  Baby #1, check!  She was a perfect baby!  She obviously had her baby moments, but she was not a fussy baby.  You could sit her on a blanket on the floor and she would play with her toys.  It was great!  In fact, she was so good, Mike and I seriously considered having only one child.  Then I had that little issue with my cervix and when I though of the possibility of not ever having kids again, I knew my family wasn't complete.  BUT, my little surgery did throw a little kink in my four babies, two years apart plan!  I had to wait about half a year past when I wanted to be pregnant to even try to get pregnant.  I was scared it wouldn't happen, but well... Nine months later, we welcomed Taylor Max to our family!

After our second child, we got smart.  We knew we could only handle two.  We knew that we could not let them out number us.  I got fixed and we are living happily ever after! 

However, the title of this post is not about the number of kids I have.  It is about everything else that comes with those kids.  We have to have the same of everything (or at least equal in the eyes of the beholders).  Taylor wants to take her Pooh to Annie's; Jaden has to take Tigger.  Jaden wants to play her Mobigo game; Taylor has to have her game.  Taylor is playing with the blonde Pop-On Pal; Jaden has to have a blonde Pop-On Pal.  Jaden wants to wear a necklace; Taylor has to wear a necklace.  Taylor makes me laugh at dinner; Jaden must make me laugh immediately after (on the same level of funniness).  It gets a little bit ridiculous at times!  If we don't have equality, there are real-life, wet tears.

They are crazy.  They can be a handful at times.  They love each other more than anything else in the world.  They make my heart smile... even when my mouth is not.

Stephanie Tanner said it best, "How rude!"

Listen up, ladies (and the few guys that read, too)!  When somebody so kindly invites you to a party (or any event that would warrant an invitation), répondez s'il vous plaît!  Seriously, it is just rude to not reply.  Here is your lesson.  Pull up a chair and grab a piece of paper... You'll want to take notes.

If you can not attend, or don't even want to, THAT'S OK!  That is an option!  Just call me, email me, text me, get a hold of me SOMEHOW and tell me, "Sorry! Ain't happenin', sista!"  I don't care what your excuse is.  I just want to know if I should plan for your attendance or not.  Obviously I want you there because I invited you, but if you can't, NO BIGGIE.  I hate the excuse, "Well, I didn't call you because I didn't want you to be mad at me for not coming."  To that, I give you a mental punch to the face, NOT because you didn't come, because you were rude and didn't tell me.  If attendance was REQUIRED, the invite would have said that.  When you see those four letters, that means that I understand that life happens and I may not be your first choice... Just RESPOND!

If you can come, don't assume that I already know that.  If I did, I would not have requested an RSVP from you!  Duh.  When I plan birthday parties for my girls, I usually don't request an RSVP from family.  For one, I'll most likely make the same amount of food whether or not one or two people don't show up.  Secondly, their parties are usually at my house so I don't need to give any sort of facilitator a head count.  BUT, should I happen to request a reply, there is most likely a reason behind it.  Do it!

Now, I get that it's not always black and white (dot blogspot dot com).  You may have an instance of, "Gosh, I already have something going on that day but if I can leave a little early, I may be able to make it..."  Than TELL me that!  I will probably just quickly text you a few days in advance and be like, "So, do you think you might be able to make it?"  To that, RESPOND.  Don't ignore.  Don't say that you never got the text because I will ask you to prove it.  Just reply to my text. 

Lesson learned?  GOOD.  If you are already taking the time to open and look at the invitation I sent you (and marvel in my creativity), take the time to look at your stupid calendar and at least text me!  Trust me, I'll be more ticked off at the fact that I can not read your mind and so therefore I have to call YOU, than I would be if you told me you can't come.  Deal?  Oh, and in case you were wondering, this applies to ALL invitations you receive, not just ones from me ;o)

Oh, and just so you know... I have not recently planned a party and not NOT got a reply.  This is just a general kick in the tush :o)  You're welcome!

Have a great weekend!

Post-it: 600.0

Keepin' It Real

Why is it that I alway get so disappointed by reality shows? 

I'm not going to see you for like ever because I'm going to Paris... But when they say "cut," let's go to the club with L.C. and Audrina and Justin Bobby, ok?

When I watched the final episode of The Hills, I seriously had flashbacks of the day I found out that Santa Claus wasn't real.  I was devastated!  It was fimed on a SET?!  Kristin didn't really leave Brody to go to Paris?!  They drove around the BLOCK???  Oh, the agony.  My heart was crushed.  Crushed. 

I started to slowly regain my faith in these so-called reality shows because I wanted Leah, Corey, Ali, and Aleeah to live happily ever after in their cute little trailer in the woods... But then even poor Leah started getting for-real salon highlights and fake nails and I new that she really wasn't poor because there was NO WAY in the world that I could have afforded a trailer, two kids, salon highlights AND fake nails when I was a teenager.  Crushed.

I knew I could always count on the REAL reality shows... you know, like American Idol!  That show is for-real reality.  I truly believe that there are normal, average kids (yes, I say kids because I am OK with the fact that each and every finalist on the stupid show was younger than me...) with too-awesome-for-words-make-my-heart-cry (James makes it cry scared tears) voices.  I truly believe that America calls and votes for these people and Idol relys 100% on America's votes.  Totally legit.  Totally real.  But, because I've been burned in the past, my sensors are on full alert for these reality shows.  Tell me that I'm not the only one that caught the set-up last night.  Idol is down to the top 4.  This is big deal stuff!  The producers need to be 100% fair to each and every contestant.  Mike tells me that they (the producers) always put the singer last that they want to win so that singer is fresh in callers' minds.  I didn't believe him.  I trusted Idol.  Idol let me down.  Idol is now on the same level as The Hills.  Each contestant sang two songs last night.  The order STARTED out as 1. James, 2. Haley, 3. Scotty, 4. Lauren.  When it came time for the second songs, Ryan announced that if you are keeping track of numbers, pay attention because there was going to be a change.  Hmmm....?  They changed the ORDER!  James should have sang his secong song first, but they moved him to the END!  The producers want that screaming Adam Lambert-wannabe to win!  I'm sorry, but James is just Adam Lambert's second chance.  He has to scream in every song he sings and it is getting O.L.D.  I admit, he rocked that Journey song, but everyone else did just as good!  Idol is unfair.  Idol cheats.  They may as well hire Kristin Cavallari to judge next season.  Blah.  I'm still holding out that James will be the next one to get the boot because Haley is awesome and Lauren and Scotty are just too cute for words.  I'm sure I'll be disappointed though.

Yea!! Oh no... NO!

I have been trying to get Taylor excited about the potty.  No, I am not officially potty-training her yet.  I just don't want her to be scared of the potty like a certain little red-head.  Before bath, I get her undressed and sit her up on the potty.  She was nervous at first but we got the princess seat out and all of a sudden, it became pretty cool!

Sunday night (a couple of weeks ago) was pretty crazy at our house.  Mike and I had gone to Indy on Saturday while the girls stayed at my parents' house.  We had just got home from the grocery store and were getting all of the bags unpacked as I was getting the girls ready for a bath.  I stripped Taylor and tossed her up onto the potty seat.  I went to throw some things into Taylor's diaper bag and came back into the bathroom.  Taylor was pointing and grunting (because she STILL isn't talking... much) to the bath.  I asked if she was done and she smiled and nodded.  As with each time, I just picked her up and put her into the bath.  To my surprise, the potty water was yellow!!  I got super excited and was clapping and whooping and getting Taylor super excited too!  J was in at this point and she was super excited about Taylor's accomplishment too!

The girls were busy playing in the bath while I ran in and out, putting things away.  Pretty soon, J starts yelling, "MOM!  MOM!  THERE'S POOP IN THE BATH!  TAYLOR POOPED!"  Ugh...

One step forward, two steps back...

**UPDATE:  This is one of those posts that I compose because I don't want to forget about it but leave it as a draft until a time where I don't have time to post something else...  Monday evening, we were in the family room and Taylor started grabbing her diaper and pointing in the direction of the bathroom.  I asked her if she had to go potty and she nodded.  We trotted off to the bathroom and I put her up on the potty.  A few seconds later, she pottied!!  We all got super excited :o) 

What we've been up to...

2 people coughing

4 people sniffling

1 sore throat

2 pink eyes

4 with fevers

3 with diarrhea

2 throwing up

1 coughing cat

1 ear infection

4 lost appetites

4 achy bodies

6 missed days of work

3 missed days of daycare

2 doctor visits

1 prescription

18 sleepless nights

Don't you wish you lived in my house?

We are doing everything we can think of to get better!  We are airing out the house (when the weather allows), we are drinking fluids, we are going to bed early, we are washing hands, we are disinfecting everything, we are taking drugs, we are still miserable!  At least one of us has been sick every day since March 4th.  This is getting to be a bit ridiculous... Anyone else battling this nasty virus?

I'm real... like Jenny from the block

I've recently read a number of posts by other bloggers on the appearance of perfection that is perceived through the blog world. Typically this from mom bloggers.  Do I think my life is perfect?  Yes.  I think that I have the perfect life for me. I know I am not a perfect wife or mom but I do what I can for my family and love them to pieces.  I like to do crafts and yes, when I'm not pulling my hair out trying to get ready for the Home & Garden Show, I usually do at least one craft a week.  I like to cook and since I'm the only one in my family that knows how, I do it quite often.  I try to make a home cooked dinner for my family every night.  Do I always have a new elaborate recipe?  Nah... Sometimes we have Hamburger Helper.  One thing that you can be sure of, our house will always be clean.  We have a great routine that makes housework seem like not such a horrible task.  Also, Mike is slightly obsessed (in a good way!) about it... which has rubbed off on both of my girls. 

Yesterday, I was getting Jaden's breakfast for her.  Thanks to Taylor, I was only half awake.  I totally knocked Jaden's full cup of milk over and of all places, it spilled down the crack between the counter and the stove.  Jaden immediately asked if she needed to go get Dad.  Um, pretty sure I can handle this one.  I needed to pull out the stove.  Before you look at these photos, let me just say that we have lived in our house for coming on five years.  We had two cats for over 3½ of those years; now just one.  We have NEVER pulled out our stove.  Ever.  Not even to paint (which we did before we moved in).  So bloggers, here is the behind the scenes of my "perfect" life:

Cat hair, dust, spider webs, milk carton rings, goldfish crackers, spilled milk, other random spilled nastiness on the side of the stove....

"Uh-oh! UCK!"

Thanks to my trusty pals, the mess was cleaned up and smelling fresh in no time!

Check out the third cat I swept up!

Ah... much better.  I should have grabbed the yellow paint while I was back there.  Oh well, maybe when I pull it out again in five years... KIDDING.