Tuesday, July 31, 2012

40 by 40

My blog has always been dedicated to the adventures of my children, but today I have decided to write a post that is all about me. The best way to teach my children to be goal-oriented is to show them my successes and failures as I strive to achieve goals of my own. I am 32. This is my 8-year bucket list. Wish me luck!

1)      Ride in a hot air balloon.
2)      Build a home: This should not have a literal interpretation. Those who have seen me with a hammer know that would be dangerous to all involved. I’ve lived in 5 states and moved countless times and would like to feel “home” in a place where I am surrounded by friends and family.
3)      Take a photography class
4)      Photograph a newborn session
5)     Go on a girls trip-NO KIDS ALLOWED!
6)      Take an art class with my husband and immerse myself in his world for a few hours
7)      Sing karaoke solo and sober (think Cameron Diaz in My Best Friend’s Wedding)
8)      Do a 5K fun run: mud run, color run, or one of those runs where they throw MnM's at you (I've never heard of this one either, but hey, ask and you shall receive, right?)
9)      Take my children to a drive-in/outdoor movie
10)   Go to the Grand Canyon
11)  Take a helicopter ride (combining 10 and 11 would be awesome)
12)  Whip out my boobs on Bourbon Street. Ha! I'm totally kidding...about the Bourbon Street part.
13)  Take a writing class
14)  Get something published
15)  Learn to drive a stick-shift
16)  Drive a Maserati, if just for a minute in a parking lot
17)  See Cirque Du Soleil’s "O" in Las Vegas
18)  See a show on Broadway
19)  Drive down the Pacific Coast Highway in a convertible
20)  Take my children and husband to Oregon to meet my family and see my birthplace
21)  Buy a nice DSLR
22)  Learn to use Photoshop
23)  Go on an airboat tour in the Everglades
24)  Take my princesses to Disney
25)  Go to Greece
26)  Learn one awesome culinary skill involving fire, other than making Flaming Dr. Peppers (crème brulee attempt likely)
27)  Have a picnic on the beach
28)  Conquer needle fear and donate blood
29)  Send birthday cards (envelopes, stamps, mailbox) instead of text messages
30)  Go camping in an actual tent in the wilderness
31)  Visit Ice Structure (official Ice Hotel in Sweden, Minus5 in Las Vegas as slacker goal)
32)   Help my children volunteer at one charity event of their choice each year.
33)  Take a cross-country RV trip
34)  Go on a minimum of 2 dates per month with my husband
35)  Take a cruise completely for free (hint, hint to my family on the Oosterdam)
36)  Ride bikes with my kids across the Golden Gate Bridge
37)  Turn on the grill and grill a perfect “medium” steak by myself
38)  Join a church and give my children the gift of faith
39)  Add one pair of Louboutin's to my collection by whatever method necessary (beg, borrow, steal).
40)  Pay off credit card debt (difficult with #39)

Friday, January 27, 2012


I have spent many hours trying to convince myself that my almost two-year old is still my little baby and not a dreaded “toddler”, but I cannot pull the wool over my own eyes any longer. Tonight, Abby came into the kitchen and sweetly requested “chicken nuggets?” It was a little early for dinner, but I figured that she rarely wanted actual food, so I would definitely submit to her request. I reached into the freezer and before my hand had even grasped the bag of frozen “meat”, Abby had melted into a tiny writhing puddle of tears on the floor.

I picked her up and asked her what was wrong. She cried “chicken nuggets!” and pointed at the pantry. I walked over to the pantry and she reached in and grabbed a box of fun fruits (also called “fruit snacks” by people who don’t like things that are fun). I pulled one of the packages out of the box and handed it to her. A smile spread across her face and she again said “chicken nuggets”. Obviously, she has been confused by the “tastes like chicken” method of deception that we frequently use.

I opened the package and set her down. She said “No”, handed the package back to me and pointed at the pantry again. “Abby, what do you want?!?” She grabbed the box and pulled out another package of fun fruits, which I proceeded to open and hand back to her. She then threw herself on the floor and began screaming as if I had handed her a package of broccoli. Okay, I am seriously losing my patience now. “Abby I can’t take any more. What do you want?!?”

She flailed on the floor for a few more minutes before finally retrieving yet another package of unopened fun fruits. She walked over to me and said “Open it?” I opened the package and handed it to her. She smiled, said “Thanks, Momma” and walked away happily, as if the past 10 minutes had never happened. Finally, she had found the one that was “just right”. I guess I’ll tell her that we’re having fun fruits for dinner when I pull the nuggets out later.

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Make a wish

We were playing in the yard the other night when Audrey spotted the first sparkling star in the dusky sky. She looked up at the star, wistfully, and said “Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight. Wish I may, wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.” This may seem like a mouthful from a three year-old, but this sweet poetry has been successfully committed to memory after watching the “Little Star” episode of Dora more times than Audrey can count (and she can count to 20 in English and 10 in Spanish-go figure). After she finished serenading the star, she puckered her lips and blew into the sky, as if she were blowing out birthday candles on a cake or blowing dandelion petals into the summer sky. I tried not to laugh because she was taking this whole wish business so seriously. In the end, I always want Audrey’s wishes to come true and I really hope that they don’t blow.