Reasons Your iPad May Be Running Out Of Storage Space

The Most Realistic And Pinterest Worthy Cleaning Tip Ever

I do not enjoy cleaning. But do you know what I hate even more? Having a messy house. Or more accurately, having a messy house that always seems to be cluttered no matter how much time I spend cleaning it.

I'm convinced that many of you feel the same way. When warmer weather arrives, we are all so ecstatic to be free of the sick days and winter claustrophobia that we begin to see our Pinterest boards fill up with cleaning schedules and de-cluttering tactics promising to enhance our spring cleaning experience and make our home look like a spread in Southern Living.

However, I have yet to find such a schedule that actually seems realistic to me. Yes, ideally I'd like to do a load of laundry a day or choose one room to deep clean each day of the week, but I'm not going to kid myself – life gets in the way of schedules. Although many of these lists have some good tips, some of the suggestions are just downright ridiculous. One of them actually lists steam cleaning grout as a weekly task. Um, no. “Ain't nobody got time for that!”

This is probably a more accurate representation of what a mother – especially one with small children – does to keep the house clean:

1) Wake up determined. Clean like a mad woman all morning, only to arrive at bedtime wondering why the house looks exactly like it did when she first woke up.

2) Rewash yesterday's mildewed load of laundry that she forgot about while she was busy making sure the toddler did not eat caterpillars or hurl himself from the trampoline.

3) Decide that the piles of toys strewn across the living room actually add to the décor.

4) Spend entirely too much time in the kitchen fixing snack after blessed snack, scraping dried food off all the heavily trafficked kid zones, and wishing it was more environmentally friendly/socially acceptable to use disposable dinnerware at all meals.

And, you know, various other things that don't end up on these beautiful Pinterest lists...but don't get me wrong – I still enjoy reading them and dreaming about becoming a superhuman organizing machine. It could totally happen, I suppose. I'm just not holding my breath.

Most of the time, I have a pretty good attitude about the clutter. It frustrates me that I can't always keep up with everything, but then I just remind myself that it's all about priorities. I do what I can during the day, but just like everything else in life, I have to decide what's most important. I can't do it all – no matter how many times I read “20 Steps To Becoming The World's Most Awesome Human Being” or whatever the latest pin might be.

So that's my cleaning tip – do what you CAN. Don't be lazy, but don't be overwhelmed either.

Perhaps I'm just too much of a skeptic, but I just don't think there are any magical tips that are going to keep me from having to do the SAME BLASTED THINGS every single day. That's just a part of life. And occasionally I'm going to find better things to do with my life.

 

 

Like dust the fan blades. Uh huh, about once a year...

The Many Philosophical Faces Of Three

When a child turns three, she begins to take life a bit more seriously. Three is a time of great cognizance and skepticism, an era of bold exploration into the great mysteries about the meaning of it all. A bit of existentialism creeps in as the Three begins to question language and connotations and the authenticity of the human experience. So when you tell the little Three to smile for the camera, suspicion arises. Why should I smile in such a bleak, cruel world? Doubts give way to stark expressions.

But it isn’t long before the darkness passes as the heightened senses of the Three begin to recognize the aesthetic  pleasures the world has to offer. Sunshine. Flowers. Incredibly beautiful, camera-wielding moms.

Happiness blossoms and reigns anew.

As the Three’s enjoyment grows, so does her consciousness. Her acute observation skills allow her to pick up on key elements in her surroundings, and this heightened awareness can lead to feelings of intellectual superiority. Three becomes quite assured of her cerebral prowess – so much so, in fact, that she finds the actions and words of others to be absurd.

It is precisely that absurdity that brings about deeper ponderings in the Three’s mind, often to the point of confusion. Sometimes, despite her usual assuredness, the Three becomes bewildered by those things with which she typically is so familiar.

Finally, the Three does what any Age would do when faced with baffling circumstances. Like a chameleon, she swiftly adapts to her environment. She tosses out society norms, flies in the face of all propriety, and flaunts her own brand of weirdness.

Meanwhile, the One’s expressions remain fairly consistent - a perpetual state of perplexity, most likely due to the antics of the Three.

The Evolution Of A Family Christmas Card

Attempt #1: Slightly overexposed. Toddler is enamored with Mama.

Attempt #2: Overexposed and blurry. Toddler is enamored with Daddy.

Attempt #3: Let's just pretend this one didn't happen.

Attempt #7: Daddy snaps fingers in attempt to get toddler to look ahead, resulting in blur. Preschooler is enamored with television.

Attempt #10: I want YOU to have a merry Christmas.

 

Attempt #15: Toddler successfully looks at camera, but preschooler...does not. Finally realize you forgot to clear off the mantel.

Just choose one, crop, and go for it!

Christmas On String Christmas

Visit Shutterfly.com for classic photo Christmas cards.

View the entire collection of cards.

Toy Ideas: A Not-So-Serious Christmas Gift Guide For Toddlers

As the Christmas holiday rapidly approaches, I once again find myself confused and overwhelmed by the overabundance of beeping, flashing, jangly toys on the market. Most of the stuff out there is just junk that will get tossed in the toy box and forgotten long before the stockings even come down, but sometimes I get lucky and discover a toy that actually entertains my kids beyond Christmas morning. 

We all want to give our children a magical Christmas, but how can we be sure we will get our money’s worth out of a toy purchase? Well, in an effort to help fellow parents weed through all of the unsatisfactory toys and find the ones that will actually provide hours of entertainment, I’ve put together a list of playthings that will undoubtedly spur squeals of glee from your little one.

If my little guy could write a letter to Santa, he would likely include the following in his wish list:

10) Packets of Oatmeal – Why bother with fancy maracas or drums when your child can let his inner percussionist out by gleefully thwacking together these crinkly casings of fun? Extra fun if one happens to rip open, sending oats flying everywhere.

9) Random Trinkets – This generally includes items your older child discards haphazardly, such as stickers, candy wrappers, marker lids, and other various choking hazards. Fun for you as well – nothing is quite as exciting as watching your toddler pick up a freaky purple spider and shove it in his mouth, only to discover that it’s just one of those plastic rings left over from Halloween.

8) A Giant Pile of Freshly Squeezed Dog Turd – It doesn’t cost a dime, unless you count the animal that provides it and the food required to create it, and Play Doh is highly overrated anyway.

7) Measuring Tape – Drape it, drag it, fling it, wag it…with this toy, one thing is certain – it will never, EVER actually be in the drawer it’s supposed to be kept in.

6) Plastic/Cardboard Containers – The recycling bin is a veritable treasure trove of Christmas goodies.  Nothing says playtime quite like a tampon box or a mostly-empty bottle of coffee creamer.

5) DVDs, Books, or anything else kept on a shelf – The more important/expensive the item, the better, and all you have to do to ensure that it gets played with is stack the item as neatly as possible amongst other important/expensive items.

4) Remote Control – In the middle of an intense moment of your favorite television show? That’s exactly when this item will most often be played with. Just make sure this is easily accessible to your little one, and it won’t be long before you’ll kick the television habit – an added bonus for you!

3) Laundry Basket –Push toys? No, laundry basket. Rocking animal toy? No, laundry basket. Expensive playhouse? No – laundry basket. The epitome of versatility, this item never loses its appeal. And somehow never gets used for laundry.

2) A Stocked Pantry – Once again, who needs a fancy playhouse? There is so much delight to be discovered within…

And finally,

1) Toilet Paper – And it's even better when it's already in the toilet.

So there you have it – a list of toys that your children would love to have but that you most likely will not purchase for them for Christmas…

Because then they probably wouldn’t want to play with them anymore.

A Winter Un-Bucket List

I’m someone my husband likes to call a ‘Christmas junkie’. I admit it – I totally get swept up in the lights, the music, the decorating, the baking, the gift giving, and all of that stuff that doesn’t really matter in the scheme of things. And I don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with that because that stuff is fun, and who doesn’t want to have a little fun during the holidays?

However, the key to enjoying those aspects of the holiday season is to keep it all stress-free. Minimalize. Don’t make the mistake of seeing the unimportant as important. The minute you stop enjoying those things and start stressing over them is the moment you lose all perspective and start failing at life.

If you think about it, the whole point of the holiday season is to celebrate and reflect upon something so simple and amazing – the birth of a V.I.B. (a Very Important Baby) – so shouldn’t it be a season of simplicity and peace?

I started to put together a bucket list of all the things I want to do this winter, and then I realized…I kinda want to do everything. The Christmas junkie in me needs to calm down a little.

So instead I came up with some things I will not be doing this winter:

1)     Participating in Black Friday. Two words: Y’all crazy.

2)      Writing a letter to Santa. Dude’s not real. Someday we gotta accept it.

3)      Stressing about gift giving. Do you think the wise men worried about the gifts they brought to Jesus? “Yo, Melchior, which scent of myrrh should I bring – Dirty Spice or Eau de Tree?”

No – they were wise men. Give from your heart, and don’t worry about it.

4)      Shoveling snow. Not because I’m too good to shovel snow, but because I don’t live in a place where it snows…and I’ve gotta put a positive spin on that.

5)      Burning the Christmas cookies. I’m easily distractible these days, so I figured it would be a good idea to go ahead and add this to the list. One can hope.

6)      Going caroling. I can’t carry a tune. This will never, ever happen, and even if by some miracle it does, I promise I will only mouth the words. It’s for your own good if you’re within hearing range. Trust me.

7)      Watching the ball drop in New York on New Year’s Eve. Again, y’all crazy. Standing in the freezing cold, elbow to elbow with a bunch of strangers, unable to use the bathroom? I’ll pass.

8)      Believing the groundhog. Each year we wait with great anticipation to see if spring is just around the corner, and one thing I’ve learned is…that rascal’s on to us. He thinks we’re a bunch of suckers.

I feel better already just knowing I can mark some things off my list. May your holiday season be merry and bright! (But also relaxing and low-key.)

Do you have a winter bucket list? Or UN-bucket list?

Like A New Pair Of House Shoes

One year my grandma told me she wanted a new pair of house shoes for Christmas. (For those of you unfamiliar with southern speak, house shoes are slippers.) Such a simple request, so I had no problem purchasing the house shoes for her, lovingly wrapping them in pretty paper, and placing them underneath her tree. I didn’t tell her what the gift was, though I was pretty sure she knew, and looked forward to seeing her open it on Christmas morning.

A few days later I visited her again. I was relaxing in her recliner when I happened to glance down at the gifts under the tree and noticed that mine appeared to have been tampered with.

I picked it up and examined it, and sure enough, the paper was wrinkled, and the tape had definitely been peeled off and replaced.

Grandma lived alone. There was only one explanation.

“Grandma!” I exclaimed. “You opened your present!”

Her eyebrows raised, but she didn’t even hesitate.

“Well, yeah,” she said casually. “I was just sitting here the other day, and I thought, ‘I’d sure like to put on my new house shoes’, so I did.”

I giggled in disbelief.

“So you just opened your present? You just…you just opened it up, put them on, wore them for a while, and then wrapped them back up?”

“Well, yeah...” she said. “They were too small.”

I rolled on the floor in a fit of laughter.

“Grandma! You’re not five. You’re nearly eighty years old – you should know better!”

She just grinned as I laughed at the absurdity of a grown woman not being able to wait until Christmas to open her present (and mostly at her attempt to cover it up).

But you know what? Her casual admission said it all – I think she did know better.

At her age she’d probably spent much of her life waiting for things to happen…waiting for the gifts to appear…waiting for the right moment to enjoy them…and perhaps she had simply decided there was no point in waiting.

I want to be like Grandma. What a tiny, simple, unimportant gift, and yet she literally could not wait to open it.

How great is it to have something to look forward to? To have something that you’re so excited about that you just can’t wait for it? To have a goal, a trip, an opportunity, an event, a moment…something that you long for and go after with your whole heart?

And how much better is it when it's something as simple as a pair of house shoes?

As I walk this path of mine, I want to stop and unwrap my simple gifts along the way with excitement. I don’t want to wait for them if I don’t have to. Life doesn’t last forever, so I’ve got to open as many gifts as I can, right?

So what are my ‘gifts’, those things that I should seek in this journey? What fascinates me? To which parts of life am I irresistibly drawn? What captivates me?

They are the moments that I feel compelled to write about or that prompt me to grab my camera. They are the tiny hands that hold mine, the embrace that calms my fears, and the desires in my heart. They are the things that make me laugh, the things that make me cry, and mostly, the things that open my eyes.

They are everything that is simple and pure and true, and so often overlooked.

Those are the things I find myself craving. Those are the simple gifts I want to enjoy each and every day, and I refuse to wait until Christmas.

 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Heard Around The House

To Princess Cindy: "Your Magic Steve"
 {Your Majesty}



To Peter Rabbit: "Don't go into Mr. Cracker's garden."















To Abram: A whole lot of "No, you're not posta do that!"

To Mama: "My Love" {Because that's what I call her. Sigh, melts my heart.)

What have you heard around your house lately?


And also, what do you think of the new blog design? I'm finally getting around to fixing it up!

Sick

As a kid, I rarely got sick during the summertime. I got sick plenty, but usually just during the winter months, like normal people do. Apparently having small children means you are no longer a normal person (newsflash).

I have already been sick four times this year – twice in the past three weeks – and currently Hannah, Abram and I all have a cold. At least we’re a family who shares.

Since my kids stay at home with me most of the time, it almost seems as though they get sick every time we leave the house. I know that can’t be true – otherwise it would mean we really need to get out of the house more – but it feels that way, and it drives me completely BONKERS. I need to escape these four walls as often as I can, but is it really worth it when I end up spending the next couple of weeks stuck at home, trying to get everybody well again?

Each week the library has a ‘Babytime’ session with stories and songs, and occasionally we venture out to partake in this exciting activity (sarcasm intended). Every parent knows that getting around so many other children is like swimming in a cesspool of super germs, but we do it for the sake of fun. (Or some semblance of fun, which generally means you hope it’s going to be fun, but it just ends up being more trouble than it’s worth.)

At least the kids get a kick out of it, but the question that plagues me (pun intended) every time we go is are we going to win the germ lottery this week?

Everything goes in the mouth

At Babytime they sing a song called “Chocolate” (the Spanish pronunciation – cho co lah tay). I dread the Chocolate song. Because that means they bring out the bag of maracas. The slobbered-on, grubby-hand-assaulted, mucus-crusted, microorganism-infested maracas. And do you know what seven-month-olds like to do with…well, pretty much anything you give them? Right. In. The. Mouth.

In a perfect world Abram would never lay a hand (or tongue) on those icky maracas. Like a true germaphobe, I stay put while the kids line up for them.

But inevitably, without fail, every single week one of the other parents/grandparents decides that my little boy is so adorable that he simply must receive a pair of maracas.

“Here you go,” they say cheerfully as they hand me the dreaded orange-and-yellow wands of disease. “For the baby.” Then they beam as though they’ve just handed us 3-day passes to SeaWorld.

“Thanks,” I say reluctantly as I accept the infected gifts. I could deny them, but then I risk offending the kind gift-giver and becoming known as the mean mom who won’t let her poor little baby have some innocent fun shaking maracas.

It’s not innocent, people. So not innocent.

I give in and let Abram hold them. Then I spend the next few minutes helping him shake them along to the music while his little mouth tries to attack them like a zombie after some brains. I die a little inside and wish it was socially acceptable to bring a bottle of Listerine to Babytime for toy decontamination.

Then we go home, and I nervously await the verdict as I watch for symptoms over the next couple of days. I always breathe a sigh of relief when it appears that we are in the clear and have actually avoided bringing home an epidemic.

Then we go to the store, and he tries to eat the shopping cart. I give up.

 

Lessons In Patience: Mama-Done-Lost-Her-Mind Edition

Abram:
There’s mama! Quick, I need to start flipping out and not stopping no matter what she does! It’s hilarious to see her get all exasperated when she can’t figure out what I want.

Yes, yes, that’s great. She’s sighing. I love it.

Oh goody, the swing. I’m going to pretend I’m content now…just until she’s convinced…and then I’m going to freak out at just the right…wait for it…NOW!

Nap? Ha ha, I don’t think so! I’d rather pretend I’m not tired so I’ll keep getting attention.

Attention attention, oh how I love thee, when I ask for it too much, it makes mama crazyyyyy.

Trust me mama, this is good for you. You’re going to need lots of patience as I grow up and go through many different phases, so just accept your lesson and quit whining about it.

What’s that, mama? I’m making you go bonkers? Sweet.

Hannah:
Whatcha doin, mama?
I’m thirsty.
I’m hun-gee.
Whatcha doin, mama?
I’m really hun-gee.
Can I have a popsicle? Please? Mama, I want a popsicle. Please? Please, mama? Can I have a popsicle?
Whatcha doin, mama?
I’m hun-gee. I want some candy please.
Whatcha doin, mama? Oh, I’m driving you crazy?

Poor sick hubby:
*Various degrees of moaning*

The dog:
*Scratch scratch scratch, lick lick lick, bark bark bark, ANNOY ANNOY ANNOY*

Me: Oh Lord, give me patience.

God: That’s why I gave you a family.

Through The Eyes Of A Preschooler

When is a toddler considered a preschooler?

I think there are many different schools of thought on this, but I can't help but think it's time to let go and move Hannah into that category. It has been a while since she has even looked like a toddler to me, and she's just too smart, too tall, and too agile to still be a 'toddler'. My little baby is growing up.

But don't worry - she's still hilarious.

She's still learning about the world, and that process of learning leads to some funny stuff coming out of her mouth. Life is different through her eyes than it is through mine, and I love looking through her lens.

In Hannah's mind...

The color of this background is called 'wipes'. Obviously, because baby wipes are also this color.

This stuff is called 'scare-up'. (Coincidentally, this is an accurate description for some people):

This is a 'red tayto'. Emphasis on the 'red'. Because the green taytos are not allowed to be picked from the garden:

When this light turns red, even if it is a mile down the road, the logical thing to do is yell "STOP! STOP THE CAR!" 

(Perhaps holding off  a little longer on the traffic education could have prevented some heart attacks. Hindsight.)

And now, mama's personal favorite. This, my friends, is a 'baby jackwater':

Oh, how my world is so much more colorful now that I get to share it with a sweet little mind!

And there is always something on that mind.

Turning My Ineptitude Into Quality Time With Friends

I have always been a terrible artist.

No, really. Like, so bad that my two-year-old daughter can tell I’m no good. So bad that I don’t think my husband has ever not raised an eyebrow when I showed him something I drew. So bad that my stick figures look at me like, “Seriously?”

I’m almost as bad of an artist as I am a singer. You really don’t want to know how bad that is.

So I don’t know why I got it in my head to start playing Draw Something, the iPad app that’s like Pictionary. I guess it’s because no one will play Words With Friends with me. And that’s just as well because it would probably be like grade school all over again when I won too many spelling bees and everyone hated me.

The great thing about Draw Something is that everyone cheats, so you don’t have to be good at it. Perfect for artistically-challenged me.

The way it works is you choose from three different words – easy, medium, or hard – and then use your finger to make the drawing on the screen. The picture then gets sent to the other player, and he/she watches the screen as the drawing is made. Once the correct guess is made, he/she chooses a word and makes a drawing that gets sent back to you.

No one follows any rules, so it gets pretty funny. People often write word clues, and sometimes they just give up and write the answer. And even if it’s a really hard one to guess, you are given letters to unscramble, so it’s not like it’s all that difficult.

It’s just fun. I mean, who doesn’t like drawing silly pictures and laughing at each other?
Even so, I’m still really, really, really bad at drawing. So my cheat? I often google images of my words so I have something to look at while I’m drawing.

Because if I don’t, they end up looking something like this:

Yet when I do use the Internet for inspiration, I can sometimes end up with a gem like this:

Yeah, I’m super proud of that guy. That’s the best it’s ever going to get for me.

But more often than not, I just get really ridiculous:

And, since I have a two-year-old genius who is more proficient with the iPad than I am, it was only a matter of time before she got sneaky and joined in the fun. You'll notice she also used my coins to purchase a new palette of colors. Oy.

I’m impressed. Her word was ‘Pegasus’. I mean, that is a way better constellation than I could ever draw. And she didn’t even use the Internet.

A special shout out to all of you who have stuck with playing with me for this long. I commend you.

*Note* This is not a product endorsement. I was not paid to write this. But clearly, as evidenced by the images above, I did not need to tell you that.

I'm Totally Normal. I Promise! Okay, I'm A Little Weird.

Many of you would probably be surprised to know that I have very likely had a conversation with you that you don’t remember.

How is that possible, you say? Are you a hypnotist? Did you drug me? Quit being freaky, Rachel!

Well, you don’t remember because you weren’t actually a part of the convo. It was just my imagined version of you. That’s right – I have conversations with people in my head.

In fact, if I know you IRL (in real life), I’ve probably had a mental chat with you at least once. That’s how often it happens…while I’m getting ready in the morning, while I’m driving down the road, while I’m perusing the aisles at Target…

(Well, maybe it doesn’t happen quite so often now that I have munchkins constantly interrupting my thoughts, but you get the idea.)

Socially Awkward Penguin gets me.

I guess it’s just that when I start thinking about a topic, I imagine talking about it to whomever I think would be most interested in discussing it with me. Or I think about having a conversation I would like to have but probably never will. Or maybe I’m just bored and you happen to pop into my head. (Lucky you!)

These fictional heart-to-hearts can be brought on by any number of things – a dream, a recovered memory, a Facebook status, a random thought, or even nothing at all. Most of the time I don’t even pay attention to the fact that I’m doing it. But today I did, and it made me think.

I thought about how bad I am at verbal discussions and how I have a tendency toward social awkwardness, and I found myself wishing I could be as eloquent and verbose as I am in my own head.

I’m just not that cool IRL.

It’s probably another reason why I blog. Blogging is my way of releasing some of the internal that I’m not very good at making external.

But anyway, I guess this is my way of saying, Friends, I think about you a lot. You have clearly impacted me in more ways than you know because I carry you with me daily.

Luckily, I googled it (typical me), and despite the fact that it brought up several psych forum hits, I found out that having imagined conversations with people in your head is actually quite normal. (Phew, good to know!)

You probably even have conversations with me in your head. At least I like to think so.

Toddlerisms: Hannah's Latest Linguistic Achievements

She’s got the basics down, and now my little sponge is discovering some subtle language tricks that add flavor to her speech (and bring amusement to all). 

 1) Remembering and repeating what she’s heard:

* “Baby Abram freakin’ out!”

* “Sometimes diarrhea” (I probably didn’t need to tell her about this unfortunate side effect of eating too many grapes)

* “Woopsy Daisy!”

 2) Acquiring her daddy’s (sometimes brutal) honesty:

“Hannah, does this headband look pretty?”
- Long pause -
“Does it look pretty or silly?”
“Yes Mama, looks silly.”
“Really? It doesn’t look pretty?”
“No Mama, that doesn’t look very pretty. Take it outta hair.”

3) Revealing her uncanny knack for comic timing:

After running up to me and grabbing my face -
“Hannah, why are your hands wet?”
“I fell in the potty.”

4) Mastering literal interpretations:

“Are you a daddy’s girl or a mommy’s girl?”
“No, I not Daddy. I not Mommy. I Hannah.”

5) Asking annoying important questions:

“What’s that?”
“Why?”
“What’s that? What’s that?”

6) Learning mind over matter:

“Oh, yes! I like broccoli!”

7) Changing the subject:

“Hannah, did you pee in your pants?”
“I wuv you, Mama.”

As you can see, these are some critical communication skills. I think it’s clear that she’s well on her way to semantic success.

 Oh Hannah, in your own words,

YOU BE SILLY!

Good Days, Bad Days

The morning starts off great. Do dishes, wash laundry, baby takes first nap, toddler entertains herself…   

Baby gets fussy. Toddler keeps sniffing. Go into denial about the green goo leaking from her nose.

Scarf down lunch while the baby squawks grouchily from his papasan. Feed baby while toddler attempts precarious acrobatics. Burp baby and think he’s happy. Get squawked at again moments later. Toddler begins to feel effects of illness and eagerly accepts nap suggestion.

Attempt to put baby down for nap. Baby angrily protests. Try rocking. Baby continues protests. Give in and feed baby again. Baby slowly begins to drift off…

Toddler wails. Set down wide-awake baby. Spend ten minutes consoling sick toddler while baby cries.

Repeat past six steps.

Toddler gives up on nap. Baby finally naps an hour and a half later. For forty minutes. Squawking continues. Snot drips profusely.

Collapse on couch and pray for daddy to get home early.

In the beginning, this is pretty much how I thought all the days would go, for a while at least. I was sure that having two was going to wreak havoc on my life until I adjusted, and I wasn’t sure how long that would take.

But you know what? Days like these are rare. Surprisingly, the littlest munchkin has kept nearly the same routine since he was born, and my adjustment to two has gone quite smoothly.  So I didn’t mind when this day showed up. I’ve been expecting it.

Even the most consistent babies have their off days, even the sweetest toddlers get cranky, and even the best mamas get worn out. That’s what makes those good days so special.

Even little birds can’t squawk forever.

Google Overload: When Search Engines Take Over Your Brain

A while back I was trying to remember a story my grandmother once told me. It was a true story from her childhood about a time when she was walking in the woods in the dark. She heard an owl up in a tree, and as she continued down the road, it followed her. It was a sweet story because she had always felt as though the owl had been protecting her.

But I can’t recall much of the rest of the details. Where was she going? I think she was headed home from somewhere…why was she afraid? I know there is more to it, but my brain seems to have lost some of the pieces of the puzzle. I wanted to know more. So for a brief moment, the thought actually crossed my mind to google it.

Yes, for a split second I had my fingers poised over the keyboard, ready to type in something along the lines of, “grandma owl story” or “owl protection in the dark” (which sounds more like a forest animal birth control ad, now that I think about it). I don’t know what I would have typed in – luckily, I never got to that point. I’m so glad that my brain caught on to the ridiculousness of that act before it actually went through with it.

That close call with insanity made me realize how much I rely on the Internet, and especially Google, for my information fix. I google everything:

“What do you want to do this weekend? “Hold on…hmmm, looks like there’s a street festival on Saturday.”

“What’s the name of that song?” “Um, I don’t…wait, let me google the lyrics real quick!”

 “Liam Neeson looks really large in his movies. He must be really tall.” “Just a second…why, you’re right! He's six foot four!" (Yes, that really happened.)

I can’t remember what life was like before I literally had everything I ever wanted to know at my fingertips. I just remember wishing I had encyclopedias whenever I had a question about something. My kids aren’t even going to know what an encyclopedia is.

"Mom, is that like Wikipedia?”

“Ugh…no. Nevermind – go ride your bike!”
“Bike? Are you talking about my hovercraft?”

I realize this isn’t a new concept. I’m sure you recall those Bing commercials about ‘Search Overload Syndrome'. Yeah, I could totally relate. I can waste so much time clickety-clicking my way across the Internet. But you know it’s really bad when you almost attempt to google things that can’t be googled.

Of course, now that Facebook has ‘Timeline’, it might not be long before we can start googling our life events and actually come up with a few hits.

Too bad Facebook wasn’t around while my grandma was still here. I’m sure she would have tagged me in her owl story note, right?

Toddlerisms: A Little Personality

I’m starting to wonder if my Toddlerisms segment is going to be able to last much longer. I might have to rename it Preschoolerisms or perhaps simply Two-Year-Old-Geniusisms. She is speaking in full-blown sentences, and at 36 inches tall, is looking and acting more and more like a little girl every day instead of the baby that I picture in my head.

But she’s still hilarious. As you all well know, she gets that from me, of course.

They (whoever “they” are) weren’t kidding when they said toddlers are little fireballs of energy. I thought the baby was going to be the one wearing me out, but lately the toddler has been full throttle. The constant energy inevitably provides many opportunities for little accidents (trips, flips, falls, and things of that nature), so we’re hearing a lot of this lately:

“Hannah okay!”

Yes, she speaks in third person. Don’t worry; it’s normal at this age. And quite entertaining. She giggles and squeals with delight as she chases the dog around the house, an event that is generally followed by a THUMP, a pause, and then “Hannah okay!”

Well-being seems to be a theme in her mind lately. Last night she draped a cord over her shoulders, walked over to Clint, and said, “I needa take tempacher.” She then stretched out the cord and placed it over his chest. “Twenny-four,” she said.

I think she’s a little confused. Perhaps we shouldn’t expect a career in the medical field in her future.

On the other hand, we can absolutely picture her in a physical trainer position. During my ab workout she stood beside me and yelled, “You’re fine! You’re fine! Go, go!”

Where does she get this stuff?

But the best thing about her right now is how wonderful of a big sister she is. When he cries, she tries to fix it, and when he’s happy, she’s happy.

And he’s pretty darn happy!

Now, if I could just get them to nap at the same time...

While You Weren't Sleeping...But Should've Been

A while back I was trying to come up with some blog post ideas, and I considered writing about the crazy things that sleep deprivation does to a person. However, I find myself unable to come up with much material for such a post because I honestly feel like I’m getting fairly decent sleep this time around. I was expecting the lethargic lifelessness that occurred after Hannah was born, when my eyes were glazed over in an unendingly vacant stare while I feared that I might never feel any semblance of normal again.

It’s not like that this time, hooray!

Even so, I’m still thoroughly lacking in the energy department, so my blog posts are probably going to continue to suffer in quality and quantity for a while. My brain is not functioning on all cylinders (not that it ever did), but that’s okay. I need rest, and I need precious time with my babies. But I also need some time to myself to stay sane, so I’m going to continue to work on that balance.

What I do know is that it’s funny how staying up too late or not getting enough sleep is similar to drinking one too many margaritas. I remember a time long ago – I was in fourth grade – when I couldn’t fall asleep one night. Instead of counting sheep or some other sort of harmless activity, I came up with a “genius” plan. By the light of my alarm clock, I penned two secret admirer letters - not to actually give to anyone I secretly admired, but to play a practical joke. I planned on leaving them on the desks of two male friends I had in class. Both letters said something like, “Meet me by the big oak tree at recess.” (I don’t really remember where the meeting place was, but that sounds good enough.) I thought it was going to be hilarious for them to show up at the tree and see each other standing there.

So that night I feverishly scribbled away on the notepad, giggling like a maniac in anticipation of watching this all go down. I patted myself on the back for being so HI-LAR-I-OUS. And the next morning at school I went through with my plan.

As genius of a plan as it was, it was not without its flaws. I failed to take into account the fear that fourth grade boys have of romance, so I watched in horror as both of my targets, upon reading their letters, proceeded to take them up to the teacher and show her. No, what are you doing? I screamed in my head. This is not part of the plan!

Convinced I was going to get into trouble, I tried to pretend I wasn’t paying attention as the three of them looked around the room confusedly. Nothing ever came of it, but to this day I believe the teacher knew it was me. I’m sure my face must have turned beat red out of the terrifying realization that she probably thought I had crushes on both of the boys.

Life lesson: Do not try to be hilarious when lack of sleep (or consumption of alcohol) is involved.

Thank goodness Abram has a tendency to go to sleep by 11 p.m. Otherwise I just might persuade myself to engage in more shady (albeit hilarious) activities.

I’m in for it if my kids end up being anywhere near as goofy as I am. So far signs point to yes.