Breaking Girl Code

You know you have done your girl a solid, when you get a text that says “I almost licked my screen”!

Women, around the world I’m sure, have always accused men of always gawking at and talking about women like they are a piece of meat. Now, I am sure this stereotype has come from some very factual evidence, but before we (women) get on our high horse and ride off into the sunset, let’s face some facts….

Guilty as (we) charged!

My dear Meg has been under some heavy stress lately. In true friend fashion, I have been pleading my case, as to why she should join me in Vegas. Nothing says R&R like sitting around a pool sipping Mojitos, talking about people and reading smutty novels! This morning, to make my case stronger, I sent a link to a show “Thunder From Down Under”. Yep, it’s exactly what you are thinking. I mean really, we can blame men for checking out a hot woman passing them on the side walk, but when is the last time a stunning 6’3”, tan, ripped 6 pack (or 8 pack), sun kissed tousled hair man, with low slung jeans and no shirt man didn’t wipe all your worries away? Even if it was just for a moment. We all have our different types, but you get the picture. It’s human nature and a proven scientific fact we are attracted to hotness.

Talk about something being a “piece of meat”, women turned out in leagues to gawk at Channing Tatum & Company opening night of Magic Mike. Yes, I was there and own the DVD! We really are no better at this than men, maybe more subtle, but just as guilty. So I say, let’s embrace it, not deny it!

Now, if you are shaking your head and saying to yourself “I don’t do that” or “I am married, I don’t need to look at other men” and better yet “my husband doesn’t check out women” well congrats, you have successfully just missed out on the greatest guilty pleasure, while your husband/boyfriend partakes. Doug and I have shared plenty of conversations about the very attractive woman in the room (I mean, it’s not hard to talk about myself, haha). Although, admittedly he mostly just shakes his head at Meg and I. In his defense, we are pretty smutty!

If you are curious what was causing the “licking”, well scroll on down for your viewing pleasure!

Warm Up With The Wilders

So this week’s book by Jill Shalvis was Instant Attraction and I give it 4 smutty stars…what that means I don’t know, but the book was good!  The book opens when beautiful Katie Kramer is woken up in the middle of the night by a hot, handsome, strong, well defined, green eyes searing, rugged, out doorsy, bulging…um biceps…focus Meg…a guy, named Cameron Wilder.  Katie is sleeping in Cameron’s (Cam) bed and we quickly learn that Katie is staying in Cam’s cabin on his family’s Wilder Adventures Mountain Lodge.  Katie took a temporary job at Wilder Adventures as part of a new promise to herself to take risks and live life to the fullest, a concept that is very foreign to her.  Cam has been gone for a year doing a little soul searching via a little continent hopping and his return to Wilder is a shock to not only Katie, but his two brothers.  Cam and Katie are instantly attracted (oh that clever title) to each other, though both leery and hesitant.  They both reveal deep wounds they are trying to heal to each other.  Katie was the sole survivor of a horrific bridge collapse and deals with horrible anxiety attacks and survivors guilt.  Cam was a hot shot X-Games superstar snowboarder living the life of extravagant travel and high paying endorsement deals, until a bad boarding accident ended his career and left him with a bad knee.  Cam is trying to figure out who he is and is wondering if he’ll ever feel again the passion and drive he felt for snow boarding. 

Drawn to her like a moth to a flame, Cam becomes determined to help Katie heal and to help her fulfill her wish to life a full life.  While he’s busy trying to save Katie, Katie actually ends up saving Cam and his hopelessness.  Along the way they face the obstacles of jealous exes and more importantly the fact that Katie only plans to stay at Wilder for a month and then plans to move on to another life adventure.  In between all of this chaos, they find plenty of time to live life to the fullest in between the sheets and even on top of a mountain, in the snow, under the stars (where do I sign up?).

I’ll stop there before revealing too much, but again it’s a good read.  After all, I am a sucker for any story that involves a damaged, lost or troubled hot guy finding a woman that he loves enough to change, a woman that sparks hope in him and a woman that makes he want to be a better man.  Whether it’s Christian Grey, Gideon Cross or Cam Wilder, let’s face it we women melt, swoon and fall hard when it comes to this kind of story line.  Won’t lie, I’m also drawn to this story as a women married to a mountain man from the backwoods of Pennsylvania…aka Pennsyltuky.  I love me a good rugged, good with his hands man of nature!  There are some supporting characters with supporting stories, blah, blah, blah but really who cares, I’m in it for the Cam action!  And good news, the previously mention 2 Wilder brothers = 2 more books!

Les and I have decided that in our warped smutty minds Cam looks like the pretty piece of eye candy shamelessly/shamefully (you decide) displayed below.  This is actually Andrew Cooper who is causing major heart palpitations across the nation in the new diet something or other commercials…who cares what he’s selling, I’ll buy it if he comes with it! 

- Meg

Boy Bands vs. Kids Songs

If you saw Meg’s post on our Facebook page, then you know she has professed her love of boy bands! Which got me thinking which is worse, singing kids songs like the theme song to Dora or Curious George all day (yes even when there are no kids around) or singing your favorite boy band songs? I am really not sure which one makes me seem crazier?

Obviously, having a kid, it makes sense that I would know the theme songs to shows I get to watch over and over, but I am not sure what it says that I sing them even when said “child” is nowhere in sight and has not been for hours. My coworkers just laugh and shake their heads now when I randomly start singing “wiggle wiggle wiggle….stomp stomp stomp” one of my favorite Dora songs. Wait…..should I have a favorite Dora song? Probably having to ask is a bad sign!

Then there is the boy band music that I grew up with, N’sync (singing Bye Bye Bye in my head currently), 98 Degrees, Backstreet Boys and the beloved return of NKOTB. Is it still cool if we like this “pop” music? I mean honestly I would take N’sync over Taylor Swift any day. I feel like it is okay that I still like the “pop” boy bands and my girls Brittany and Christina, but probably a little too old to admit to liking any Justin Bieber song (Admittedly I sing a little Bieber in the car). I mean if women my mom’s age can think “Edward” or "Jacob" are hot, then I can still like boy bands right?

Although I do actually have boy bands and girls like Brittany and Christina on my iPad, it’s not my normal choice of music (I am what I like to call an “Inde Folk” fan). Hey, I am trying to save some dignity here. It does work well that you still own 90's pop music however, when you are setting up playlist for your husband to listen to while he does surgery. Because of the random variety of music you can find in my collection, the Bovine Hunter had asked me to set up some playlists of music he likes, so he could just hit play on his surgery days. Yes, apparently it is true that doctors like to rock out while performing surgery. (Next time you have a procedure and wake up singing Guns and Roses, now you know why) So being the loving wife I am, I made him a few varieties of playlists, but nothing says "I love you" more than a random "Genie in the Bottle" or "Oops I Did It Again". Yep, I am that nice! I knew secretly he would be so happy I added in some of his favorites! Hehe!

Who’s your favorite (secret) band/person you don’t admit to liking? We promise we won't tell!

They Don't Miss A Thing...

     From the moment you announce you are pregnant, you start getting all the stories from family, friends and quite often perfect strangers of all the things their child said or did. When I was pregnant I knew “everything” then I had a baby and quickly realized “I. Knew. Nothing.”. I didn’t always listen or even want to hear the stories when I was prego, because my kid was going to be different. Ha, boy was I an idiot! The good thing is I can laugh at my ridiculousness now. With an infant, anytime there was an issue, diaper rash, colic, teething, etc. I quickly tried to remember all the remedies that people had suggested. I was desperate at times and would try anything. Now that I have a toddler, I often recall the “one time my daughter…” or “wait till they repeat what you say” stories that I have heard. Well ladies and gents, I have joined the “I have a toddler” club. Mind you I am just getting initiated, so I am sure there are far worst events to come, but it has started.

     So this morning we woke to a lovely covering of ice. The cars, the roads, everything was covered in a thin sheet ice. Although the district I work for was closed for the day, I don’t get snow days. So Aida and I venture out to daycare on my way to work. I made sure to wear my flats and not heels today, to avoid any death traps or so I thought! We arrive in the loading zone at daycare and I walk around to get Aida out and take her in. The same as every other day, just normally there is no ice to contend to. Conveniently, the lowest part of the road happens to be in the loading zone so there is always a very nice size puddle there if it has rained or the snow has begun to melt. (Aida’s daycare is in town, so the only other option is to parallel park, which doesn’t work out well, so I use the loading zone) I go to do my usual one foot on the side walk, one foot on the cars door frame so that I don’t have to step in the puddle and get my foot wet (it’s a decently deep puddle). Well ice makes this a little tricky. I started to fall and caught myself on the car door, so not a complete embarrassing moment, but enough to make me do a quick glance to see if anyone saw me almost eat the sidewalk. Although there was no one around but us, I did not escape those beautiful little eyes that so innocently looked at me and says “oh no mommy”. Yep, my toddler misses nothing.

     I say I am just getting initiated because her vocabulary doesn’t allow for her to go in and say “hey, my mom almost totally wiped out on the sidewalk out there, it was hilarious”, but it’s coming and quick! Let the party begin!

Has your child repeated something they shouldn’t or told your embarrassing moments?

Perfect Is Boring, Pinterest Is Evil...

I love Pinterest as much as the next person, but it should be said that sometimes Pinterest makes me feel like less of a person. With its perfectly decorated rooms, refurbished furniture, cleaning and organizing tips and recipes, I find myself wondering sometimes who are these ridiculous women that can actually do all of this? And I really feel like an epic failure when I comb Pinterest for birthday party ideas! When I decided on a Dr. Seuss theme party for Gavin, I started searching Pinterest and came up with some really great easy ideas, green eggs and ham deviled eggs, 1 fish 2 fish Swedish Fish and Thing 1 Thing 2 cupcakes to name a few! There of course were also ideas of Cat in the Hat layers cakes, hand made invites, and Seussical themed favors. Ideas that had I committed to doing I would have driven myself crazy and the hubs probably would have found me curled in the fetal position under our kitchen table repeating “I am Sam, Sam I am.” There are women that can pull the perfection off, and then there are women like me that said women shame into tears.

On top of Pinterest pressure, lets talk Facebook. Let’s talk that annoyingly perfect girl from college or high school that posts pictures of her child’s seemingly perfect birthday party. Streamers, balloons, and joyful children. Perfectly color coordinated, every picture perfect, every cupcake symmetrically iced to perfection…perfect, perfect, perfect, blah, blah, blah…PERFECT IS BORING!

Gavin's birthday party today was far from Pinterest perfect! We all have high hopes in the coordinating phase, but that ain’t real life! My hubs was late getting home from work this morning, setting us behind schedule for the 11:30 start! So this put a lot of the work on me and my saintly drop everything and help mother! Then we had issues with blowing a fuse with all the crap we had plugged in for the party. The highlight of the day though was the incredibly cranky toddler…It was his party and he certainly cried if he wanted to…A LOT! I kid you not the kid screamed when we put cake in front of him and refused to eat it! He wanted nothing to do with the house full of guests focusing all of their loving attention on him, couldn’t be bothered to open presents and said “NO” a whole heck of a lot. So needless to say, we didn’t get the obligatory, Facebook worthy pictures of cute, messy cake eating, mad present opening and smooching the grandparents. Nope folks, I got the picture of my face with a look of sheer confusion on it, holding a cupcake, with a toddler screaming, equal parts snot and tears running down his face next to me. Once upon a time, I too would have began crying, as the perfect birthday moment I imagined in my head didn’t exist, but two years as a mom has taught me not to sweat these very real moments. In fact, I love this year’s birthday cake picture. It happens, and it will be a hilarious story to tell when he’s 18! If every birthday, holiday and any day for that matter were perfect, how fun would that be? It wasn’t a perfect moment, but it was our moment and Pinterest ain’t got nothing on that!


PS to my fellow moms trying to create perfect themed birthday parties, when you get stressed remind yourself that
A. your kid probably won't even remember it, so go cheap and easy and just tell them it was amazing and themed out when their older!
B. They have yet to scientifically prove that kids who do not have perfect theme parties are more likely to turn to a life of crime, so relax! 

Anybody else share this love/hate of Pinterest? Birthday party disasters? Come on folks, tell me I’m not alone!

-Meg

I gushed, she lied...

It’s Gavin’s Eve…it’s a legit holiday people! For tonight is the night before we officially become the parents of a 2 year old! So in honor of this delightful, ridiculous made up holiday I am going to share Gavin’s birth story. Birth stories, seem to be the “In Thing” in the blogging world and whether its blogs or handbags, I love a good trend! Bear with me as I will probably be boringly sappy at points in this post, but I promise some humor, after all what isn’t hilarious about the Vag all but splitting in two for the purpose of creating life! Sorry for that mental image, not really, maybe a little! So here it goes… Before I get too far into this story, it is important to know that through out my pregnancy I was concerned about having a big baby, solely because I was a big baby (10 lbs. 7.5 oz, 21.5 inches). This fear lingered even though Gavin measured two weeks small my entire pregnancy. The week before he was born, I asked the doctor how big he thought the little bambino would be. He felt around my belly for a few minutes, shrugged and said “7 maybe 8 pounds). Sounded good to me! So I was due January 21st, and for the two weeks leading up to my due date, I was effaced and dilated 3cm. And for two LONG weeks, the doctors would tell me that they didn’t expect to see me at my next appointment and that there was no way I was going to make it to my due date.

Well, January 21st came and went. January 22nd came and went. January 23rd and 24th came and went. By the 25th I was huge, swollen and convinced that he was never coming out! Apparently my uterus is a fun place to hang out? The 25th also marked the day that I put a sign on my desk that said “Yes, I am still here. No, I did not have the baby.” I left work that convinced frustrated, tired and fully prepared to be back the next day, still preggers! When I arrived home the hubs had dinner ready. I got into some comfy clothes and sat down to watch a little TV and eat dinner when a very strange feeling struck my lady parts. I quickly realized my water had broken and ran from my carpeted living room into the kitchen as the flood gates opened! To the lady that taught our birthing class who insisted it wasn’t like the movies where it gushes and puddles on the floor…I GUSHED, YOU LIED! In shock the hubs just looked at me and said “Does it hurt?” I assured him it didn’t and he helped my get upstairs to change and call the doctors office.

While I cleaned up and changed, I called the night number for the doctors office. I wasn’t experiencing any contractions, so they told me to take my time, grab a shower, pack and head to the hospital. In the weeks leading up to Gavin’s arrival, I freaked about a lot of stuff not being “done”, one being the pack-in-play w/ bassinet not being set up in our room. A 5 minute task, but I was hormonal and cried that it wasn’t set up. Hubs would tell me we have time, relax. So while I was changing, hubs vanished! Next thing I know he comes running into our room with pack-in-play pieces and starts frantically setting it up in a moment of pure panic, holy crap this is really happy chaos! I looked at him and said “seriously, NOW?” He dropped it right there, grabbed our bags and helped me to the truck. We loaded into the truck, with me sitting on several towels (still gushing birthing class lady!), and we were off to have a baby. We made the obligatory family calls on the way and then mostly road in silence. The hubs had become cool, calm and collected at this point, I was trying to wrap my mind around the concept that the people at the hospital were going to hand me a human being, a human being that I was going to be responsible for! Apparently, 9 months wasn’t long enough for me to grasp this concept!

We arrived at the hospital and we fully expected it to be like the movies. A nurse would appear with a wheelchair and we’d race down the hall to my room! Not the case, it felt more like we were checking into a hotel. They told us to have a seat, they were getting our room ready. So while I was freaking out about a human coming out of me, I had to sit in a chair and watch a Seinfeld rerun, until the summoned us! When they took us back to our room, they did the old test to make sure my water had actually broken and then in a flash there was an IV in my arm, monitors on my belly and we were ready to rock…or wait for hours. About an hour after we arrived, they intense contractions made their evil presence known! I lasted an hour or two and asked for the good stuff, epidural me up! They made hubs leave the room to put the epidural in. When he left I was rolling around, tears streaming down my face, fighting through contractions. When he arrived back the lights were dimmed, I was relaxed, pain free and loving life. I announced I was taking a nap and so I did. We both napped off and on for a few hours, in between getting checked for progress (worst wake up call ever). I was cruising along and by 1am they told me I was ready to start pushing. Before I go any further two things should be said, first the nurses at my hospital were AMAZING and made our experience all the better. Second, hubs has assisted in the delivery of two babies in his career as a firefighter, so thankfully I didn’t have to worry about him passing out, he’d been there done that.

They got me all set up and ready to push. Hubs was an encouraging supportive rock star. He was so amazing supportive and I could see he was proud of me, which made me work harder to push and not scream like a lunatic (epidural warring off at this point). The birthing lady failed me again at this point, because she never explained how hard pushing actually is. I pushed for an hour, AND HOUR! They push for 5 minutes in the movies and those suckers pop out! The doctors and nurses encouraged me too and in an hour a healthy screaming baby boy was placed on my chest with cries from the doctor and nurses of “He’s huge” and hubs yelling “Who wants to over/under me on 9 pounds”. We starred at our beautiful baby boy, cut the chord, then he was off to be weighed and cleaned up. You can imagine our shock when we heard “10 lbs, 6 oz, 22 inches long”. 7 or 8 pound baby my ass! Yep I gave birth to a toddler! The hubs beamed with pride!

Its at this point things got complicated and scary for us. Gavin was healthy and perfect, I on the other hand was not. Because he was so large, my uterus was not contracting as it should and the placenta was not delivering. The doctor massaging my belly trying to get everything to do what it was supposed to and I very quickly started to feel dizzy and not well. In a flash my bed was laid flat, orders were being yelled out. We went from 1 doctor and 2 nurses, to 8 nurses. I passed out briefly, but remember random needles, monitors and tense words. I watched hubs holding our sweet boy across the room and just kept thinking please don’t let me leave them. My blood pressure dropped to a dangerous level and through blurry eyes could literally watch the terror spread on my husbands face. With his medical background, he knew what he was watching wasn’t good. A half hour later, they were able to get the bleeding under control. I was awake, but extremely tired, light headed and beat! Not the perfect glowing birth experience I expected. Gavin was delivered at 2:38am, beyond him initially being placed on my chest, I did not get to hold him again until 5:30am. I wasn’t allowed to sit up until 9am, and spent the rest of the morning getting two blood transfusions. We didn’t have the normal rush of family and friends visiting to meet our new little man, because I honestly didn’t have the energy. Our parents visited, but other than that I spent three days in the hospital just resting and bonding with my boys and while I felt robbed not having all of those visitors, those three days were still special. My doctor visited frequently and explained that Gavin’s size was what caused all of my complications. I had basically almost bled to death, but wasn’t in any immediate danger anymore. I was told that it would take my body a few months to truly recover and get my normal energy level back. Our gentle giant also left mommy with a 3rd degree tear!

The days that followed in the hospital were amazing and exhausting all at the same time. Gavin was the picture of health and we were in love! In the scary moments that followed his arrival, he and daddy quickly bonded and daddy dove right in with diaper changing, since it was hard for me to get around. After three days we were sent home to start our adventure as a family.

So that’s how it started! This whole crazy ride wasn’t what we had expected, but it was what God had planned for us, and we survived. And would I do it again, with the risk of this all happening again? ABSO-FREAKIN- LUTLY! God has a funny way a numbing the bad, painful memories of childbirth, sleepless nights and frustrations of parenthood. I certainly am fearful of the next time around, but the amazing, crazy and unpredictable stuff that follows is beyond worth it! Happy Birthday to my dear sweet Gavin!


P.S. Gavin- When you become a moody teenager who won’t listen, I reserve the right to remind you on a regular basis that you almost killed me and that you owe me for life! :-)

-Meg

Cost of a Working Mom

        They say the hardest job a woman will ever have is being a mom. While I do believe there is a lot of merit to that, I think being a working mom is even harder. Most days I love working. I love my job and what I do. I love using my brain for something other than keeping up with diaper changes, feeding schedules, and nap times. And admittedly, I like the break from cleaning, cooking and being mommy. It's probably good that I like my job, because I don't have a choice about it.....

         

          I carry the insurance on myself and Aida. I pay a whopping $30 a month for both of us to have full medical, dental and vision. This alone makes it worth working when you look at the bottom line. Add on top of that a paycheck and it's logical why I work. Without my job, we would be out of my paycheck and have to pay close to $700 per month for the insurance coverage. 

        Well here's the "but". But days like today make it really hard to be a working mom. It happens more often than not that Aida cries when I leave her at daycare, however, when I come to pick her up she never wants to leave. She loves playing with her friends, especially her classmate Ky and her boyfriend Gavin (yep Meg's perfect angel and my sweet girl are betrothed). Well today she did not want to be at daycare, she wanted mommy. All day she would ask for me and cry when I wasn't there. When I came to get her she looked so sad until she saw me. Where I love the smile of happiness that I got when I arrived, I hate that she was so sad all day. 

        Aside from the "bad days" at daycare, there is the constant battle every evening. There is always cleaning and cooking to do, but she always wants me to play. It breaks my heart when she wants to play and I have to cook dinner (unfortunately it doesn't cook it's self and I am usually a single mom till 6:30 most nights). Because I work, I don't have the daytime to get these things done. So in a few short hours, every evening, I have to try to find the balance between my "to do" list and what my daughter needs.  I do the best I can, because it's all I have. 

        How do you balance your life?  

Warm Up With Wallbanger

Ladies meet Mr. Wallbanger

Welcome to our first Warm Up Wednesday!!!

         

With temperaturs in the teens, what a good day to start the "Warm Up Wednesdays". We love a good smutty novel as much as the next woman, I mean love story, yeah it’s all about the love story! Oh stop trying to deny it! You know you can’t resist those bad boys either, with their stunning eyes, gorgeous hair, strong arms and those manly hands running down his sculpted abs, further down following the V that leads to a promise of…….oops, got a little side tracked!

Our latest read “Wallbanger” by Alice Clayton will have you struggling to put it down. Simon Parker aka Mr. Wallbanger, is our new resident world traveling photographer. Truly a man after my own heart, with his camera and a lens I would love to get my hands on. Setting his focus on his new sassy neighbor Caroline, this bad boy and his harem don’t stand a chance. After a great first impression, Caroline and Simon start their friendship full of witty banter that will have you laughing out loud. Flirty, fun and a few loves of Zucchini bread later this is one book we highly recommend.

The Lone Kiss

My breath caught and my heart began to race. I could hear the chanting in my head getting louder, “don’t panic, don’t panic, Don’t. Panic.” I could handle this! I could find a way out of this situation. How had I gotten myself in to this mess in the first place? There I sat, at my desk, staring down my demons. How had I gotten this deep in without knowing it? I knew it was inevitable, it would happen one day, but I thought I would be more prepared. I knew I was in love and I shouldn’t be. This had never been a healthy relationship, but I just couldn’t walk away….

The morning had started just as any other. I had even held off contact because I knew I had a dentist appointment first thing, so no need to get anything started until afterwards. This affair had been going on far too long, but it’s part of what drove me to “want” to come to work today. After a long weekend I had missed him (I kept this relationship strictly at work). I wanted to feel the velvety smoothness on my lips, the sweet taste of passion coursing through my body. But now here I sat, staring down at the lone Hershey Kiss in my desk drawer. Somehow, I still don’t know how, I had eaten the entire bag of kissing except this one. It had been a sensual 6 weeks of wooing, but now here we were, at the end of the bag. We would enjoy one last sweet moment in heavenly bliss together.  

I guess it’s true what that say, all great things do come to an end. At least until I buy a new bag of kisses anyway. Moral of the story: always have a backup bag of kisses. Nothing can ruin your day like running out of chocolate!

What’s your guilty pleasure?

~Les

It's the end of an era...

This Friday, January 25th marks two years since our larger than life Gavin came into the world! The 25th also marks the moment when I swore to myself that we would rid our house and lives of THE BINKIE! Yes ladies and gents…if there are any gents that actually read this, my kid is a binkie kid, a nuk kid, a pacifier kid, whatever you call it, he owns it! It’s a love like no other I have ever seen. If he had to choose between me and the bink, I am pretty sure he’d pick me, but only after lots of soul searching and careful consideration. The kid has them stashed places around our house like a squirrel hiding nuts and he can hear the handle of the bink click from an easy 30 yards away! I have watched him find it by meticulous searching of his crib, while never waking from a deep sleep. It’s serious binkie radar, love, and sixth sense.

It should be known this binkie love has existed from day 1! Gav was a big baby. A 10 lbs. 6 oz, 22 inch long kind of big baby. I was told at the time that bigger babies are often binkie babies because they crave the sucking sensation. Whether there is scientific proof behind this claim or not, Gavin sure bought into it! So here we are two years later and facing the end of an era! The hubs and I are dreading it, as we are pretty sure our child will revolt, scream, throw things and possible plot our demise! But considering that Gavin has been a ridiculous easy baby/kid we have no reason beyond pure binkie love to think this. Gavin dropped the bottle like it’s hot (annnd now I’m singing Snoop Dog, great), there’s no reason to think the bink won’t be easy. I’m also very over random strangers judging and feeling the need tell me he doesn’t need “that thing” or seriously taking it from my kids mouth. This pisses me off to no end. Like lunge at a stranger like a rapid spider monkey kind of pissed off, so the binkie should probably go before somebody calls the 5-0 on mommy! The more and more I think about this whole bink thing though I realize that its not fear of the toddler battle or over opinionated strangers that are driving the team binkie boat, I realize that maybe I’m the problem, I’m not ready to let it go. It is after all, his final bit of babiness. My baby is not a baby anymore and it breaks my heart. I will miss the funny places he finds to hide it, I will miss how angelic he looks sleeping with it, I will miss binkie kisses and the sound of him walking around the house looking for it saying “dinkie”. I will miss MY BABY! Watching him grow, learn, explore and discover who he is, is exciting and the best part of being Gavin’s mommy, but it all comes at a bitter sweet price, as they really do grow too fast! I know we have to do this and I know we’ll survive, but say a little pray for me to get through this without uncontrollable sobs and ridiculousness that causes my husband to start planning his escape to another country. I’ll keep you posted on our progress!

Anybody else breaking the binkie habit? Bottle habit? Blankie habit? Booze habit….wait, maybe that one is too deep for this blog!

-Meg

Freudian Fail

The common quote “Insanity: repeating the same act over and over again expecting different results” has often been attributed to the great Albert Einstein, although the origin is unknown. Well my friends I am calling “bullshit”! Clearly Mr. Einstein or whomever first laid claim to this quote did not have a 17 month old child and 9 week old puppy living under the same roof.

Life lesson #78,987,342 : Just because you are bigger than them, doesn’t meant they can’t tag team.

I never really know what my evening is going to hold for me, but sometimes it’s a challenge. The first week with Isa, our adorable little puppy, was going great. By Wednesday she finally had really start to come out of her shell and was feeling a bit more comfortable in her new home. As expected, she has a hard time determining which toy is appropriate for her to play with. It’s rare that the Bovine Hunter gets home from work at a decent hour, usually running in just as we sit down for dinner. So here I am in the kitchen preforming my wifely duties, cooking of course, trying to keep the puppy from destroying Dora dolls and peeing in the floor, when my Baby Girl decides this would be the perfect time to see just how many nerves mommy has left. Oh the joys of toddlers....who can reach the counter tops! As I am stopping the impending death of a toy, I hear a loud “clang” and “uh oh” (mind you, most “uh oh’s” are very intentional around here, it’s her version of “bless your heart”). I turn, at the same time as the puppy, to see the dinner plate I had made for Baby Girl spinning faster and faster on the floor and then coming to an abrupt end sitting nicely on the kitchen floor, food very neatly All.Over.The.Place! The race is on, it’s a mad dash to stop the puppy (who suddenly seems to have learned to run) from cleaning up the mess for me. I grab Isa up and put her in the kennel before heading back to the mess. With Isa now safely secure in her kennel, I start the cleanup process all the while grumbling under my breath about kids, dogs, husbands who work too much and a much needed vacation. On my knees in the kitchen, fingers covered in food, what do I hear “click” and another “uh oh”. My sweet, lovable, precious Baby Girl has now set the ever so eager puppy free from her kennel. Again, she really believe “uh oh” is equivalent to “bless your heart”, all you have to is say it and it completely negates any wrong you are about to say or do. Of course this ends the way all fairy tales do, in walks prince charming a while later (after mommy has now lost her mind completely) to a sleeping puppy (clearly worn out from the food chase) and a darling sweet daughter sitting nicely at the table.

And because one exciting evening a week isn’t enough, the washer decided to join the fun and die the following night!

So to Freud’s psychoanalysis and Einstein’s thoughts, Insanity is being tag teamed by two little ones, that collectively weigh less than 50 lbs, but pack the destructive power of a hurricane. Don’t worry, after a few days to cool off I now find it just as funny as you!

xo,
Y’all

We're Smuts, Not Sluts

So Leslie and I like to read, often the same books. In fact we shamefully created a book club, a smutty book club! Yes we like hot, saucy, funny and sometimes cheesy books. Yes we're SMUTS, not to be confused with sluts! Judge away world! Judge. A. Way! We've done Fifty Shades (twice, yes I read all three twice), Crossfire Series, Lucky Harbor, Stephanie Plum, and our most recent favorite Wallbanger. Now some ladies I encounter say they don't like such books (we call them liars and/or prudes). I've heard the tales of, "I'm happy in my own life and marriage, I don't need that smut." Then there are those that think they breed a culture of unhappy women who think that men like Christian Grey, Gideon Cross and Ranger actually exist and will in turn become unfulfilled with their less than Fifty Shades of a husband. To them I say, your loss! I am a very happily married woman who realizes those men are fictional. Real men fart, forget birthdays, shrink your favorite sweater in the dryer and have been know to sniff test clothing out of the hamper to determine if it's clean enough to wear (I thought he'd outgrown this, but it's been 10 years). And I'm alright with these things because, you may find this next part shocking, but brace yourself, I'm not a perfect women. There I said it, but I'll deny it tomorrow! While these books offer a fun escape from reality and something fun for Leslie and I to fantasize, err, I mean talk about, I actually argue they are good for my marriage. The fun, sexy, sometimes flirty nature of these books inspires me be a little sassy and reminds me to flirt a little with that adorable man I share my bed with (my husband, geesh, get your mind out of the gutter). These books remind me of those early days of falling in love with him, the butterflies, all the fun firsts and the days when I shaved my legs everyday! So to our fellow ladies we say SMUT ON! And with that said, every Wednesday (or most Wednesdays, we're moms, sometimes we're too tired to type or read) we're going to review our most recent read! Let us know what you're reading! And we highly recommend Wallbanger...Go Team O!

Welcome...Y'all!

Welcome to Yankee and Y'all! This blog is what happens when obnoxious hand talker from the north (Meg) meets and becomes friends with a straight talking sassy southerner (Leslie)! We're two working, mom's, wives and self proclaimed hot messes, who have a whole lot to say about nothing! WE think we're ridiculously hilarious, a statement that causes much eye rolling by the husbands. So since they've stopped listening to our witty banter, we're taking our humorous observations about life and our experiences to a blog! What can you expect to find here...anything, we're kind of random and lack anything that remotely resembles an attention span (we blame toddler driven sleep deprivation). We aim to make people laugh and hope that our honesty never offends...don't take us seriously...ever, because we don't take ourselves seriously! Disclaimer-Leslie has an unfair advantage here, southerners get away with saying mean things all the time just by adding a simple "bless her heart" to a statement.  Oh, Yankee girl problems! Anywhooooo...we hope y'all (that hurt my Yankee heart to type!) enjoy!