I'd rather paint than clean!

Some of you, dear readers, know that John and I are buying a house in Montana and are planning on moving there at the end of next month. For those of you that didn't know, Surprise! After a little more than a week of frantic work on our current home, John and I finished the last part of renovations and cleaning today and just happened to have our first showing today as well. No telling, of course, how it went but even if they aren't interested I am confident that it isn't due to how the house showed. John worked like a demon, painting, repairing things that have been on our list for months (sometimes even years), and downsizing our belongings. Literally half of the stuff we own is now in a storage locker a few miles away. Now I want to know, why couldn't we have done this before? It wouldn't affect our decision to buy a new home, we outgrew this one almost 2 yrs ago, but it's really nice living in a house where you can see the actual paint color instead of dirty hand prints. Washing the walls can only do so much, since eventually the paint disappears and all you have left is drywall. Why didn't I realize before how much easier it is to throw a coat of paint on occasionally than it is to keep scrubbing the same areas over and over again? I made it clear to John that this would not be happening in our new home. The kids better get used to the smell of paint, because I fully intend to freshen it up every chance I get.

Potty humor

Looks like I'll be starting out with a lot of potty related humor. Just a few minutes ago, my lovely 4yr old daughter managed to get a toilet seat stuck on her head. Now admittedly, it was a foam seat for a potty chair, but it still begs you to ask several questions. First and foremost being, WHY? Not one to let a good opportunity pass by, I immediately sent her to show her father and then asked him to record a quick clip for posterity. I even held her hair out of the way so we could be sure to know which child it is yrs from now when we view the clip. Since it was foam, I managed to get her out pretty easily without a single scratch though I wouldn't have minded if it had dented her ego a touch. She has got to be one of the vainest children I've ever seen. She can't walk past shiny surfaces without stopping to admire herself, and every time a camera comes out she's instantly ready for her photo shoot. Her grandmother even told me that she once took Jocelyn and my next child up, James, for a walk along the river and every time Jocelyn threw a rock in she posed afterward as if she was standing on the red carpet. The years ahead should be interesting.

The beginning....

Long story short, one of my sisters asked me to think about starting a blog. Apparently I'm occasionally amusing and insightful, but a bit long winded when on the phone (though she didn't actually state the long winded part, I was still able to read between the lines). Ergo, a blog. All the cute and funniness of me, and maybe sometimes the crabbiness, in one convenient package. No telephone ear, where you've been on so long your ear is actually cramping, and no long distance charges to your cell phone. As for the name, I'm not sure I want to go into that. Alright, I will anyway since you asked so nicely. I sat at my husband's computer for at least an hr silently cursing it (it has a love hate relationship with us. It loves him and hates me) and trying to think of a name for this blog. After obsessing over it and coming up with nothing, a flash of one of the most embarrasing, humiliating, and funniest times I've ever had while being a mom flipped through my mind. I figured that had to be it. It completely summed up my experience as a mom and life in general. Years back, when my husband was in college and I was working full time as an apartment manager for subsidized housing, I had a tenant over one evening finishing up paperwork. John was doing housework, helping me with paper work, whatever and our oldest son Jordan (an only child at the time, though that was only for two more months since I was 7mths pregnant) was across the room from me squatting down beside a toy playing. While I was talking to this tenant, out of the corner of my eye I noticed Jordan stand up with something held gingerly in the palm of his hand. I couldn't tell what it was and mentioned it to John who, along wth our tenant, turned to take a look. John asks Jordan, our barely verbal 2yr old, what it was and our tenant starts trying to guess. Due to the size and shape she asks, "Is that a pickle?" Some of you may have already figured out where this was going, but for those of you that haven't gotten there yet I'll add a few details that I left out. As I mentioned before Jordan was two, and being two, we had decided it was time to potty train. And since we were potty training, Jordan's lower half was naked. See where I'm going with this now? Yes, Jordan was standing across the living room while I talked to a client for my new job (I had only been there a month and the office was out of my home) holding one of the largest turds ever to come out of a two yr olds rear. John almost immediately figured out what it was and rushed for Jordan, taking him to the bathroom to flush it, wash his hands (scrub them, actually), and put a diaper on him. And what did I do? I put my head on my desk and laughed until I cried. It was either that or die of embarrassment. So that's how I ended up with my blog name; when between a rock and a hard place, I decided to throw my hands up in the air and laugh. Hopefully we'll do a lot of laughing along the way and at the end of it, I'll be a better mom and more rounded person. As for you, if nothing else, I'll do my best to entertain you.
Jennifer